"Drop the daggers little girl."

Cancia looked back and forth, cornered in between 20 men, all armed. She wasn't going to surrender. They would torture her, maybe kill her, but maybe make her a slave again. She wasn't designed for other people's pleasure, she was her own person. She was going to escape now or die trying.

"You've got three seconds miss. 1...2...3..."
Cancia put her daggers back down, ready to strike. "I'm gone," she threw herself flat against the wall, a trail of blue magic dust behind her, one of the arrows flew, missing, nearly hitting the men on the opposite side.

"Get her!" one of them screamed, as they all rushed forward on top of her. Cancia could hardly tell what was going on, she saw blades coming at her, tried to dodge them, stick her daggers into whatever was closest. There was screaming, yelling, a sword put a small cut in her side, then, a sharp pain in the back of her head, everything went black.

...
"Is she dead?"
"No, just knocked out,"
"Good, they'll probably make her wish she was dead."
The men bound her feet and hands, one threw the her over his shoulder, and the men walked off towards the City Guard station to turn her in, collect their reward. The people walking along the street stopped, looked at the unconscious girl that the man was carrying, no one really thought anything of it, nothing that unusual really.

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