Nirashi are one of the few groups who travel the Heartlands well. To that end, they have gathered multiple stories from the remote Domains of the region. This is one such story.
Have you ever wanted to be a bandit?
Wanted to live free and wild?
Cusco did.
Cusco never cared for rules. Never liked the idea of being told what to do. So when Cusco became an adult, he lived his own way.
He was a charismatic and fearless man, exceptionally skilled at making the rules of others feel ridiculous. If you can keep it then it’s yours. If not, you never deserved it. This was his philosophy, and he stood on it true. You might have thought him a villain, and he was… To some.
He and his group robbed merchants, noble households, and wealthy travelers alike. Even other criminals were not safe from his hand, but his favorite were the Lord’s men – tax collectors and the like.
Yet he was not ruthless. He often left poorer travelers be, after only threatening to rob them for a laugh. In some cases, it is said he would leave stolen goods or coin around a village in the dead of night, then watch from a high vantage point as the people scurried about looking for treasures.
For years he remained just out of reach. From one Domain to the next, he and his band flaunted their ability to create discord. When a Lord’s men chased him, he’d lure them into conflict with a neighboring Domain. While the soldiers fought each other, he’d return to his ways in yet another Domain, until they too were drawn into chaos. The Lords petitioned the Empire, but the Legion refused.
It was a domestic matter, they said. Not the Empire’s problem.
And among the people, gods, some adored the bandit-king Cusco. He had women wherever he chose, yet none could tame him. Even among those who would call themselves a wife to another, he would not be shy. This, of course, only made his legend grow.
Finally, a Lord had tired of turmoil. He proposed his daughter’s hand as an offer of peace, a promise of wealth and power. It would be a uniting of clans, an alliance through bond. In truth, the Lord’s daughter had begged him to do so, for she desperately wanted to be the one he would choose. The one who could finally settle the wild man.
Now time is a thing that wears on all men, and the bandit-king had tormented the mountain Domains for nearly two decades. So he accepted the Lord’s offer, and agreed to the marriage.
Shortly before the wedding, the Lord passed, and Cusco gathered his men to return to his ways. The young Lady escaped to him on her own accord, reminded him of the arrangement. Cusco had fallen in love with the Lady, and was reluctant to walk away, so he stayed. The Lord’s eldest son had ascended to rule, and promised his sister she could still belong to Cusco, she said, if that was her desire.
Cusco was wary, but he could not turn down the maiden fair. After some time with his sister away, the young Lord sent an offer to the bandit-king. An offering of peace. A feast before the wedding. Face to face. Man to man. The Lord was known to be frail, while Cusco was strong, and as such, he was not afraid. The night of the feast came. Cusco and his men entered the keep, refusing to give up their arms.
The young Lord kept his promise.
The Lord’s men stood watch. Unarmed. Unarmored. The young Lord, too, partook of only wine as Cusco and his men dined on breads and cheeses. They jested and drank, and Cusco regaled the young Lord with stories of his conquests of women.
Soon the feast was ready. Trays of roasted meats were brought forth, cut into small bits and glazed with a sauce of plum and peppers. Cusco and his men feasted, while the young Lord sipped his wine. By the time the candles had burned, the bandits’ bellies were full and they departed the keep.
The smell hit them first. Smoke. A fire in the distance. Then a dim orange glow that grew brighter as they approached. They spurred their horses onward at speed. The camp could not be saved.
Then, in the flickering light, Cusco saw the unthinkable. A pike buried in the ground. Atop it – the Lady’s severed head. He rushed to it immediately. At the foot of the pike was a small bowl. One plum. Two peppers.
Cusco howled in fury, ordered his men to follow, but when he turned, they were gone. The young Lord’s men had followed them back to the camp, killed them all silently while the bandit-king was consumed by grief.
Since that time, no bandit-king has risen in those lands, and maidens rich or poor shun those who cross the Domains’ laws. The young Lord was not challenged again.