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Iavre sighed “Thanks,” she looked down

Grey let Mirima tend to his wounds, wincing every so often as the chains shifted and sizzled.

They needed an escape plan. Grey listened to the tune of Mirima's whistle and closed his eyes, thinking about their next move. The sandstorm sounded like it would go on for a while. The bandits probably knew that already. Most of them were common henchman but there were a few, like Cordell, who were fierce, and Silveris and Marcelle, who were magical.

Grey just hoped it wouldn't come down to magic against magic.

He opened his eyes. "Any ideas on how to get out of this mess?" he asked no one in particular.

“If someone pretend he dies those dudes will come because they want ‘healthy ‘ slaves , maybe one of us can escape .”

Mirima gently pours ointment onto Grey's arms; every so often she has to rub it in or move the chains and apologizes for causing him more discomfort.

She doesn't immediately respond to his question about escape ideas. Iavre has a valid point, and Mirima waits a minute to respond. "But I think we should all try to escape together; we'll have a better chance of getting away and actually surviving than any one of us on our own... And we'd do better if we could get a hold of the horses." She pauses for a minute and seems to struggle with the decision to say something else or not. Her mouth opens and closes more than once as she thinks. Finally she says, "If you all want to stick with her plan of leaving one behind,... I'll stay. I'd be more of a liability than anyone else."

“If one can escape l, he could kill those dudes and then verybody is free!” She giggled

Rook swallowed the last bite of her biscuit. The question in her own mind wasn't exactly how to escape the bandits, but how to fulfill her original mission... killing the leader. Neither of which would be easy when she wasn't even sure if she could walk. She shifted her leg at the thought, grimacing slightly.

"There's too many for that, Iavre," she said, but had no good ideas of her own to suggest. She looked at Mirima, noticing for the first time that the woman was indeed an elf. "If we can, it should be together. I see nothing to be gained from leaving one behind."

"What of this witch?" she asked after a moment. "Does she really cook people?"

“He said she did.” She looked a bit scared. “But maybe we be in a candy house , so it won’t be too bad , then I would eat so much candy till I get sick.” She giggled a bit.

“And afcourse eating chocolate.”

Pinning sand 'neath the tumult of a particularly ungraceful landing, the huntress rolled to her feet, limber sculpt recoiling like a spring teetering for fatigue. Behind her, the tide of the sandstorm lay stumped like the sea afore the cliffs, the press of the storm roiling out an arc over the camp, suspending an avalanche above their fire-lit shelter. Somehow she caught the squint of a knife flashing in the great shadow of the bulging leviathan.

Reaction was instinct. Reflex was instant.

She had jerked her head aside, blade snatching at her cowl. The cloth fell aside as she, figure slashing the sand into a swiveled rivulet, reeled into new poise three feet aside where she had landed. The spear had come free of it's half-scabbard holster in the scuff of her motion. Now the still hooded spearhead hovered ahead of her stance, her figure heaving for breath, dark eyes honed to the man that had flung the dagger. Her ink-hued lips twisted to a soundless snarl, gritting.

"Rein yourself in or I will bring the storm down on your head, dog!" The words punched from her parched throat nigh growl, save for the volume she lent her voice.

((Shit. I missed this sorry... I was wondering why noone was reacting to my emote and in fact I missed it entirely. I'll respond to this now. Edited my post before. It should read an answer to Sampson's attack.))

Silveris and Marcelle both whipped their heads around at the sound of an unfamiliar female voice in the camp and their eyes fell on the girl with the spear who was facing off with Sampson, and Marcelle snapped his fingers, signaling for the bandits to surround the girl.

"Another one? They just keep on coming. I don't know if Jadis can handle all these prisoners. We might have to pay a trip to the salt mines, maybe even the trolls, after all! It'll be a rich, rich day!"

Meanwhile, Myles had drifted away from the other bandits and soon found himself standing in front of the prisoner tent, holding his roll of bandages and indicating to the guards that he had a job to do, although he hadn't exactly been ordered to come here, but the guards let him in anyway.

What harm could a kid bandit do?

“Hey , is that creepy witch real!” Iavre shouted “I tought the witch of Hansel and gretel is death?” She asked wondering

Vessa shot a bitter smile 'round the circle of bandits cornering her. "What a greeting for the witch's disciple, hm.." crackled she and her voice was grinding rocks, a venomous musing in self-chagrin. Vigor heaved through the ebony venus as she caught a second wind and gained her feet and the full of her lean height.

"Jadis say, 'Vessa, you must go help them. Big sandstorm coming. They will get lost.' And I say, 'yes bibi, I will go and help them, for you. I will brave the perils of the desert and the storm plaguing it to help them!' And this is how you greet me??" Incredulity raced across her marked face only to become vapor as she spoke anew, voice crawling, pregnant with blooded enthusiasm, "Come then if you wish death!"

With a flick she rid the wrap of cloth from the obsidian spear-head, the compass of her weapon's cruel device come into sudden, sweeping reality. No gaze could ever hope to touch the light-defying lozenge mounting her weapon. It was a scar ethereal, shying comprehension from it's aspect. What it did to flesh nobody had lived to tell... She smiled over her weapons unearthly involution.

Sampson felt the color drain from his face. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Had he - did he just -

Did I just throw a knife at Jadis's disciple's face? he thought, both shocked and horrified.

Sampson glanced at Marcelle and Silveris, unsure of what to do.

----

Grey looked up at the sound of Myles entering the tent. The young bandit had a roll of bandages in his hands, but Grey had a feeling he wasn't here for that. He tilted his head wordlessly at Myles.

It was then that Grey felt a sting in the side of his head and he immediately sat up straight, staring at the tent flap. He closed his eyes. There was another presence in the camp. Not a fiery presence like Marcelle or Silveris. It was a dark, magical presence.

Grey let his purple eyes drift to Myles. "What," he said, "is happening out there?"

The witchling fixated Sampson with a scrutiny born of malice. Her dark stare glinted of embers tempered in the fires of rude greetings, incredulity wavering in favor of such wickedness as only righteousness can compel. Driven by anger morphed abject in the turmoil wrenching through her gut, she inched forward, first minute animation a lull; but no sooner had her mind been set to task than she reared into prowl. Light-shod feet hissed through the sand as the tribal huntress carved her imposition into the terrain separating her from the offending bandit, murder already committed in the basins of her raven eyes.

((Sorry I have not been on a lot very sorry))

I was still tied to the pole like usual.Sandstorm still raging and well people fighting.I looked Everywhere just to find my escape and no nothing.I looked at myself and still had collar on me its been on me for so long.So I decided just to struggle like struggle hard but it not work.So I just waited until I died or someone untied me.

Silveris glared at Vessa and raised his hands, intending to intercept the girl if she made a blow for Sampson, but Marcelle quickly stepped in, holding up his hands and smiling sweetly at Vessa, who he now recognized.

“Greetings. I hope Jadis is doing well? Forgive me for not recognizing you immediately. It’s been an...eventful day. I suppose this is your sandstorm?”

Myles blinked at Iavre, a little surprised at the fairy tail reference and nodded hos head slowly in answer to her question because yes, the witch was definitely real.

Myles felt goosebumps on his skin as Grey stared at him, for he knew this man was magical and had even faced off against Silveris and Myles shifted under Grey’s gaze.

“Lady Jadis’s disciple is here.”

Myles glanced at Mystic, who was struggling with the pole and ropes; he was glad the dragon man still had his collar on.

"No so loud..." The ranger urged Iarve when the younger girl started shouting. Perhaps she was near hysterics from the shock of being captured, but yelling would do nothing but bring the bandits. And sure enough the tent flap opened a moment later.

Rook looked over as the young bandit entered the tent and now she vaguely remembered that he had bandaged up her wounds. Perhaps he was here to remove the dirty bandages and replace them with clean ones. Why they would send only him seemed odd though. Even with bound hands, there was the risk that they could together overpower him. Then force him to untie them... then... what? Run out into a sandstorm?

She eyed him uneasily, then glanced around at the prisoners, trying to guess what each might be thinking.

But then her heart fell when the lad announced that a disciple of Lady Jadis was here. As if that had just sealed their fate.

“But that’s not fun , the candy house could be?” She said a bit excited “But the witch will end in the oven because we all together are stronger then her.”

The serpent in the witchling's gaze found new home on the leader and a reluctant halt coiled through her stride, anchoring her two arm-lengths from the bandit that had earned her ire. Eyes as pitch as onyx glinted with recognition where Marcelle was concerned but no smile of greeting dared her mien. With the bandit leader's admonition, the huntress' features faintly softened but a grudging caprice bedighted her with an impatient aire –and her voice with a terse note speaking, "Your man is an idiot. You should stand aside. I will spare you the trouble of him killing someone that you will want alive, no?"