A few bandits dropped the stolen cargo they were carrying and walked closer towards Castor, circling him like vultures. “That’s quite a pretty little thing yer have there,” said one of the bandits who stepped very close to Castor until he was about two meters from him. Castor griped the hilt of his knife and a stream of white electricity poured to the ground with stray sparks cracking in the air. The masked men stepped back but seemed to have no intention of backing off.
“What should we do?” said the the bandits amongst themselves. “That thing is probably worth more than all the cargo in all these caravans.”
“Hey mister,” called one of the masked men in a jovial mocking voice, as if he were teasing and playing with him. “Where did you get that?”
“That is none of your concern!” shouted Castor, waving his knife around creating a larger fountain of lightning and sparks. The horses around were getting really agitated and kicked on of the bandits that were trying to steal them. In the confusion and amidst the noise the horses kicked, struggled and neighed loudly. A masked man crept up behind Castor and struck him with a wooden club knocking the wind out of him. Castor fell on his knees and dropped the knife. The masked man picked up the knife and all of the masked men laughed triumphantly. Castor lunged forward and grabbed the man by the ankle, the mask man was completely engulfed in white electricity. The bandits watched in horror as their friend cried and screamed as he was being continuously electrocuted for over twenty seconds. The charred body fell on the ground, unmoving but still breathing. Castor grabbed the knife and got to his feet once again but still unsteady. Again a stream of electricity poured out of the tip of the knife. Castor swung it around like a whip and cracked it by the feet of the other bandits.
“Go away from here, drop everything you took and leave now. I will not hesitate to kill all of you now. It won’t take much,” said Castor.
The bandits despite their masks looked horrified. Obediently they dropped all they were holding and slowly went back into the forest and up into the mountains. They carefully carried their friends who were now unable to move. When all the bandits had vanished into the forest Castor dissipated his electricity and turned to the caravan driver. The caravan driver was holding onto his whip tightly ans watched Castor with fear in his eyes.
“What did they take? The bandits I mean.”
“J-j-just s-s-some of the cargo. T-th-they did not kidnap anyone, most of my cargo is still there I think.”
“Alright,” replied Castor, “I’m sorry I can’t help you repair your caravan or gather you things. I think my ribs are broken, I’m just going to lie down for a bit.” Castor leaned against the caravan, in pain and exhausted from using so much magic at once. Castor slowly slid to the ground and sat leaning against one of the wheels of the caravans. The driver jumped down and started to gather his cargo that had been thrown on the ground.
“Thank you, sir,” said the driver.
“You’re welcome,” replied Castor with a smile. A few more people returned to the caravan as the commotion had been quelled and it had become much quieter. Castor insisted on staying until the caravan was ready to leave just in case the bandits decided to return. Castor sat in the back of the first caravan next to cargo and caged animals until the caravans reached the next village that evening.