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Grey didn’t reply to Silveris’s taunts, no matter how badly he wanted to lift the fire bandit into the air and smash him against every solid object in the camp. Grey stopped and glared at Silveris.
“I’ll come quietly,” he said. “But please heal Rook. That’s all I ask for.”

——

Sampson grabbed a length of rope to tie Mirima’s wrists behind her back. Cordell had dealt the killing blow to finish of the stallion and Sampson grit his teeth at the effort it took capture such a fine steed. Silveris would no doubt be angry.

Sampson surveyed the prisoners. There was the cloaked girl with the knives (Jez), the dragon man (Mystic), the illusionist (ayelle), the arrow girl and the telekinetic.

((Since we missed it, we'll let it slip ))

Silveris blinked at Grey, surprised that he was turning himself in so easily, and he motioned for Myles to take Rook off of Grey's arms and carry her to a nearby tent where Myles could try bandaging her injuries, then one of the bandits approached Grey with a length of burning hot chains to tie his arms.

Marcelle took Mirima's instrument in his hands and examined it carefully, deemed it looked ordinary enough, and tossed it to Silveris for safe-keeping until he found out how to use it but in the meantime he smirked at each of the prisoners, calculating the prices in his head.

"Cordell, get these prisoners secure on the horses. Sampson, roll up the tents and pack all our cargo. Rally up a few helpers to assist. We're going to pay a trip to Lady Jadis."

Once in the tent, Rook's eyes batted open again and she tried for a moment to sit up, then gave up the effort and lay back on the bedding where Myles had put her. "Danny...water... please..." she asked in a hoarse voice, possibly delirious from her earlier blood loss.

--

"The sooner we get rid of 'em, the better," Cordell muttered to himself as he collected the oldest, most docile of their horses to use for the prisoners. He fitted them with only saddles and halters, purposefully leaving off bridles and reins so their riders, even if they managed to get their hands free, would not be able to easily control their steeds. He hoped the trip to visit Jadis was quick and uneventful. He'd never admit it to anyone, but the desert witch scared him worse than Marcelle.


((OOC: Any objections if I play Jadis if/when we get there?))

Mirima quickly fastens her cloak once again, being careful to avoid drawing attention to the bag at her hip.

As Marcelle ignores her hint and gives the orders to pack up, Mirima mutters barely audibly enough to be heard, "Fine. Your loss though..."

She offers her hands in front of herself to be bound. "Nasty wound you got there. You sure you can ride?" A sense of genuine concern comes with her words. At the same time, the thought of kicking him in the gut passes through her mind, but most of the other captives are unable fight. Incapacitating him would only be a minor, and very brief, victory.

((OOC: if he doesn't take the bait and insists on tying her hands behind her back, she'll be sure to tense her wrists and keep hands side by side to give the best chance of wriggling free. Also, @Rook, that's fine by me.))

((I'm cool with it. @Rook, ditto go for it))

Grey watched Myles take Rook away, noting which tent she'd been carried into. He didn't want to leave her in the hands of a bandit but when someone held out a steaming, red chain to bind his arms, Grey realized he had no choice. Alone, he was no match for the entire camp, telekinetic or not. He tried not to wince as burning hot metal met skin and searing pain shot up and down his arms, numbing his feel for his fingers.

There would be no telekinesis in a while.

----

Sampson was admittedly a little surprised at the concern in the musician's words. She had a sing-song voice, and he guessed it probably came with being a fan of music. Sampson raised an eyebrow when she offered her hands in front of herself, but tied the rope anyway, making sure it was extra tight.

"It's none of your business," he hissed in reply. Sampson contemplated cutting off the bag that was strapped across her, but if Marcelle didn't think it was a threat, he supposed there was no need.

Sampson gathered a couple of bandits and they proceeded to clear the camp.

They'd put us on horses bringing us to this 'Jadis' to sell us. This was pretty normal for me getting captured and well being sold or something else. All the other prisoners sounded like they hated every single thing about this and wanted to rage. But I kept calm and raged until something very bad happened. So it probably a long way until we get there.

((No objections ))

Myles stared uncertainly at Rook, unsure of what to do as the arrow girl called out deliriously for someone named Danny and remembered Silveris or Marcelle saying something about the rest of her village burning to ashes, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy as he wrapped her wounds and carried her towards a horse.

Once all the tents had been packed and all the prisoners had been mounted, Marcelle hopped onto his black stallion and Silveris onto a substitute mount, and before they set off, Silveris rode his horse towards the bandit that had shot the three arrows through his prized stallion and promptly burned the man to a charred corpse.

Marcelle led the bandits towards the horizon.

Her plea for water went unanswered and Rook was only semi-conscious of the fact that she was put onto a horse then tied to the saddle, not to keep her from escaping but to simply keep her from falling off. She slumped forward and did not so much as flinch when the screams of the man being burned alive by Silveris filled the air.

"Shoulda sold him to the witch too," Cordell commented sourly, growing increasingly frustrated by the waste constantly on display. It wasn't that he was growing disillusioned with the bandit lifestyle. On the contrary, in a land of limited resources, it seemed only fitting that it should be the strongest who took what they needed first. But maybe if they were more careful with their resources, they wouldn't be risking their lives every few days trying to get more. That stallion would have easily fed the lot of them for multiple days and they had just left it to rot in the sun.

He turned away and rode down the line of prisoners, looking for an outlet for his frustrations. The purple haired telekinetic was on the horse directly in front of the female bard and he positioned his steed beside them. "Ever meet the witch?" he asked, hoping for some kind of reaction. "Sure is an ugly old thing. But I sure wouldn't want to cross 'er. Turn you into somethin' unnatural. Or might just fatten you up 'fore making stew."

Grey gave the one-eyed bandit a sideways glance. From what he'd heard Marcelle say, this man's name was Cordell and he was no doubt one of the more trusted and higher-ranking bandits in the group. Still, enemy or not, Grey was glad for something to distract him from the burning pain of the hot chains around his arms.

"I've met a few," he answered with a tilt of his head. He looked casually over his shoulder and that's when he spotted Rook, slumped on her horse and nearly unconscious.

"Cordell, is it?" Grey licked his lips uncertainly and met the bandit's eyes. "If I were to buy a slave, I would want the ones in tip-top shape. After all the effort it took to catch us, what use would a dead prisoner be?"

He angled his head in Rook's direction.

It was getting dark and Marcelle knew that nights in the desert were just as brutal as the days and the bandit leader pulled his horse to a halt, turning to face his bandit caravan and the progress that they made across the sand, running an eye over the prisoners just in case.

"We'll settle down here. Set a few tents, but not all of them. And make sure none of those prisoners escape tonight because for every prisoner missing in the morning, one of you will be thoroughly burned."

Silveris stopped his horse as well but didn't turn around, instead keeping his eyes on the horizon ahead and then looking up at the darkening sky as the sun slowly descended, and he closed his eyes and breathed in the soft wind that played with his white-blond hair.

"Sandstorm? Let's hope not."

I was still on horseback which felt like an eternity but was it like 10 minutes. The day just became night so the bandits decided to rest.I'd look up see something in the distance and hear some noises that sounded like a sandstorm. And to even to make it truer I saw some dust across the sand moving strangely. Then after a few minutes of resting, I saw a giant dust cloud in distance coming toward us. It was the end for all of us.

Mirima doesn't reply to Cordell's taunting questions, but she silently wonders whether the witch might not be better than the life she's run away from. If they'll even get there.

By the time the small caravan stops, Mirima's wrists are raw. She had been able to keep them separated just enough to get some relief from the tightness of the rope, but it was far too tight for her to wiggle out.

She edges her horse up alongside the chained prisoner in front of her. Before dismounting she tilts her head toward the chains and seared flesh beneath and grimaces ever so slightly. "You musta really ticked 'em off, huh? How'd you all get yourselves in this mess anyway? And sorry for frightening you earlier; I was only trying to help. Some good that was...." Her conversation sort of rambles along without any demand or much expectation of an answer. "Oh, I'm Mirima. You got a name I can call you by?"

((OOC: I keep getting this message under the "Did you know..." section: It's like it knows Rook is knockin' on death's door here.
))

"Appreciate you lookin' out for us," Cordell gave Grey a "friendly" punch to his arm... right where the chain had burned him. He rode down the the whole line of prisoners, giving each of them a few much needed sips of water. Rook coughed and sputtered as the bandit poured some of the liquid into her mouth, but then seemed to awaken a bit and actually drank a few gulps from his canteen.

With the threat of a storm looming, Cordell helped the others set up 3 tents as quickly as they could. One for the bulk of the bandits. A smaller one for the prisoners and some guards. And the third, the largest, for the horses. Normally they would be left under the open sky, but not tonight with the possibility of a sand storm.

Once they'd been ushered (or dragged) into the tent, Rook managed to sit herself upright, wincing.

"Here's dinner," Cordell said, tossing a single canteen of water for them to share into the tent with them.

(Can I join?)

((thanks for this it helps me to start)

Iavre woke up on the ground , it was hot and her skin was burning . It was red like a lobster , she looked ashamed it looked afwul. She sit down but it hurt her to much , she crawled a bit . She looked painfully around "Hello!" it sounded raspy.

She felt like she wanted to cry , she needed some water . She decide to cry so she could drink her tears. But well crying she start realizing she needed water because there were no tears what could drop on her tawny trouser

((Welcome Iavre!))

Grey winced when Cordell punched him right where it hurt. He nodded slightly at Mirima.

"Name's Grey," he said, careful not to shift the chains around his arms too much.

But then the prisoners were dragged into a single tent and given a canteen of water to share. The guards were outside the tent and Grey tried moving his fingers. He was met with white pain.

Can't use my hands. He grit his teeth and leaned back, listening to the faint howl of the wind. Then he noticed Rook had sat up and he tilted his head at her.

"Awake?" he smiled. "Although we're still in a living nightmare."

she crawled to some tents , not knowing if there would be people or not . She managed to get it , she noticed the bottle of water . She quickly drinked it and wiped the water of the chin after she drinked .

She finally could stand up and looked around her , she looked a bit choked seeing all those people around her who she first didn’t noticed . “I only needed some water!”

We were all being dragged into a tent and one only and one of the bandits said: "Here's lunch." He gave us slope and few things I did not want to eat.

I'd almost finish dinner until I saw it. The Giant dust cloud from earlier was 2 minutes away from us and I did want anyone to die well except for the bandits. I went outside the tent trying to get through the people and once I was outside I yelled "SANDSTORM!"

"Indeed" the ranger said, "where... are..."

She paused as a girl with a bad sunburn lifted the tent flap, crawled inside, and immediately stole their only water.

((Iavre would quickly notice these people are clearly prisoners. Most are injured. They've got their hands bound, most with rope, except for Grey, who is bound with a chain.))

Rook gave the girl a rather incredulous look. She seemed about to say something more when Mystic cried out his warning. There could be no attempt at escape this night. Leaving the protection of the tent could easily spell death if it was a bad storm.