While Squad Quinque discussed their course of action, the bandits began creeping through the ruins towards them. While by no means a professional force, these men had fought and killed beside each other many times, and no words passed between them now that the alarm was raised. Their scout had spotted Hiro's bow, and made the assumption that at least one magic user was amongst them, so they took what cover they could as the approached, slowly spreading out in a ring to make use of their slight numerical advantage.

They seemed content to hold back for a bit, only moving forward cautiously, either waiting for an opening, or trying to force Squad Quinque to make the first real move. From what the recruits could see, there seemed to be a good mix of axe users and sword users, the latter being split quite evenly between men wielding light one handed blades and heavier two handed ones.

It was not clear at the moment which was the group's leader, if they were even with their men.

Up on the slope behind them...

*****

Heike shivered as the wind began to pick up, making him long for his stolen hat. The weather in Frosspeak had been much harsher than this, but he had been in Jotenvarr for awhile now, and grown acclimated to the warmer climate. That, and his attire was much thinner and less cumbersome now, compared to when he lived in his homeland. Priestly garb tended to be a mix of robes and animal furs, to protect those missionaries who preached their sermons on the road instead of in the country's many churches. 

His current garb, on the other hand, was vastly different from known priesthood's. While it retained the basic appearance of a holy-man's robes, they fit his form snug rather than loose, with the bottoms raised a bit higher than most as to avoid tripping him up. When he was on the road, his longest sparring partner was a traveling myrmidon, and he learned much of his fighting style from the man. He favored agility over defense, the ability to strike a man's vitals over the stamina to last a lengthy fight. 

And currently- agility was something he lacked, tied up as he was. Having gotten the attention of Squad Quinque and warned them as best he could about the coming danger, he set about looking for a sharp stone to work at his bonds with. It was a tougher task than he anticipated, most of the rubble for the ruins being down below, and his current terrain being more dirt than rock. Unbeknownst to him, back at the camp...


*****
One brigand had stayed behind, leaving his companions to deal with the King's Brats. They had dealt with the last batch easily enough, surely the boss would overlook his absense. Grabbing his axe, he took a look upwards, admiring the sun's reflection of his prize's blonde hair.

"[color=FACC2E]Oi, fight [i]two battles[/i] without reward? Fuck em', I still need paid for the first...[/color]"

Slowly, he began to make his way up the slope, a devilish smile spreading across his face.