Ophius sat as silent and motionless as if he were still safely hidden in shadows, his eyes closed and focusing on meditative focus as much as he could manage in this position, which was paltry to say the least... His mind worked over and over his situation, plotting, planning, theorizing, struggling to come up with a way to escape without either a sword or arrows sticking him. To other prisoner's though he may have looked dead were it not for staying sat up, having made no apparent attempts to move or complain since being stuffed into the middle cart. Like the other's he was amply bound and his muzzle was strapped shut, but being an argonian that may not have been too big a deal... were it not for the great insult of having stuck corks onto the ends of each of his claws to keep him from cutting himself free, and more so a 'charm' was wrapped around his wrist bindings to cut him off from magic that could save him. There was 'one' boon he seemed to benefit from, the armor he'd been wearing when he was captured was easily mistaken for plain concealing cloths [unless you'd rather I remove this], and with his surrender they seemed content to bind him thoroughly and insult him with corks... It wouldn't help him right now anyway, he couldn't even turn invisible because of that charm, and it'd be too obvious if he tried to remove a cork and cut himself free, that'd just get him gutted early. Even so, his mind worked over so many details, how quickly he could 'de-cork' and slit someone's throat, contemplating the density of the Guard's skulls if he slammed them into the cart hard enough, and even the slim possibility of breaking someone's neck with his still free tail... as satisfying as these actions might be, each one was certain to result in his death shortly there-after and... [I]'wait... what's that sound?'[/I] He had tuned out the rain, though it felt delightful on the scales that were exposed, but a sound that was more prevelant came to him through the rain, a harder sound, rushed... All at once those silver eyes shot open and he looked behind them [I]'By the shadows, it can't be... It'd be far too coincidental.'[/I] But sure enough the shouts went out, They were aldmeri and they were coming for the imperials... or perhaps someone among the prisoners really was a spy and they wanted them back bad enough. This was a chance he couldn't sacrifice, as soon as the imperials rallied and turned their attention away from the prisoners and to the Aldmeri bearing down on them, he dug his claws against eachother, scrabbling carefully to pull the cork off of his index claw, and though quite painful he twisted his hands so that he could dig the claw into the leather bindings. [I]'wait for it...'[/I] He cautiously sawed through it as the assailants drew closer, tiny increments at a time. [I]'wait...'[/I] The first of the imperials clashed, and his claw reached the half way point of the bindings, severing the string holding the magic blocking charm. [I]'A little longer...'[/I] The first of the prisoners began to leap off of the carts and try to escape, drawing the attention of both Imperial and Aldmeri as they fought. [I]'Now!'[/I] Even with the bindings not completely severed yet he rose to his feet and leapt from the cart, vanishing from sight in mid-air, having activated his invisibility as soon as he was away from the charm. while the other prisoner's bolted straight for the tree's, he took advantage of his invisibility and sprinted to the side before arching towards the forest, effectively ensuring that the Aldmeri arrows weren't even aimed at him as many of the prisoners met their end shortly after finding freedom. Since he first leapt from the cart he counted every second with practiced precision, keeping track of what time remained of his invisibility while running full out... He broke the tree's with only seconds to spare and pressed himself to the other side of one of the tree's just as he became visible again, panting mildly from the forced exertion, such effort went into it, and now he had a whole new ocean of possibilities for grasping his freedom, and of course quickly finished cutting through his wrist bindings, then free'd his muzzle. First he looked back over the field, checking the distance incase any of the assailants were giving chase, then turned to view the forest's edge around him for potential resources... Rocks and wood don't make very good weapons when one doesn't have the time to turn them into something effective, but a few tree's down he spotted something much more 'malleable' pinned to a tree by some Arrows... A few seconds later he was trotting off into the forest with a fresh corpse over one shoulder, still warm even, careful to keep a brisk pace and use his tail to sweep away his tracks. ------ Minutes later he came to the edge of the same clearing as those who had fled before him, and on instinct he paused for a moment to observe them, silently appraising the area for threats before deciding that for the time being, the clearing bore only other escaped prisoners. So he stepped into the clearing, heading straight for the river, though now he didn't have a corpse with him, instead he had 8 large red-stained bones under one arm, A few strips of something thin and red over a shoulder, and both claws very bloody. He didn't speak yet as he reached the stream and got to cleaning his claws, as well as washing the bones and sinew off, followed after a moment by Snapping one in 2, creating the barest of improvised stabbing tools. when he finally spoke, it was less of a greeting and more of a critique, though his voice had a strange slightly creepy smoothness to it for an argonian "You under-estimate your situation Human, Even if the entire band won't chase after us, we are still unarmed escaped prisoners in the forest, likely to have at least a few Aldmeri try to follow us to 'clean up', unless you think you can take them bare-handed, we best not stay in this obvious location for too long." He paused and leaned over into the steam to take some fresh gulps of water, leaning back up with a quiet sigh before holding up one of the still solid bones "Now, who wants a weapon? It'll take me a few minutes to get each one to a useable state and they won't last long in a real fight, but they'll be better than bare hands... I can make daggers and bows from this 'material'." He wouldn't call him a black-smith, so much as a survivor, Better to be okay harvesting bones to make weapons than to leave oneself devoid of weapons in an emergency... and that dead prisoner sure wasn't using them.