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A strong gale spun around everyone, intriguing Charles. "Hmm, delightfully cunning... Using wind to keep away the enemy..." He pondered a bit, and thought about attack opportunities. The sun was still bright, and he was close enough to aim it well, so he said the hell with it.

He got close to the edge of the maelstrom and started to do his thing. The light bended on the selected bandits, and they combusted, flailed, screamed, and rolled around, looking very silly. They soon found out the sand was just as hot as the flames, and jumped back up, still screaming with a face much like this.

After a while, they fell to the ground, either dying or going into shock.

So, he selected more targets, seeing that there was a vast plethora of them, they were easy pickings. "Pardon me..." the light centered on one point, becoming very intense on one bandit's forehead, and moving down quickly to slice him in half with extreme light exposure. He didn't have time to scream. Another was downed from neck burns, and another from the same thing, only on a different part of his neck.

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A couple figures peered over a dune, looking out onto the bandit fort. They could not be seen by the bandits, but they could see the bandits perfectly fine. Among the group was a dark-skinned woman, who seemed more than a little frustrated. "Looks like we found deh others..." As she looked, she saw what appeared to be a sand tornado, and then saw it launch, revealing the figures who had been hiding within. Among them, a red-haired figured could be seen. "Damn dat boy, he ran right in, and now he's trapped wit em'." She looked around a little more, and saw that the bandits still had the upper hand, and were closing in to kill. After getting an idea of what the situation looked like, Deborah turned to the others with her.

"Dis group is one of deh smaller groups, but has been growing in powah, evah since dey got a new leadah. From what I hear, he's one of deh lowest, most disgusting filth in existence. Dey were on dere way to becomin' one o dah largeh groups... until dey messed wit us." Deborah gripped Graver. "Come, deh east side will allow us tah move unseen." She led them around, hing amongst the dunes, until they reached the east side of the fort. With all the fighting, nobody would notice them, and all the archers seemed to be on the western side.

As they came up close, Deborah could see a familiar face at the fort's entrance, and grumbled a little. If that man intended to interfere, it would be at his own peril. Deborah whispered to her companions. "Okay, les go save dere sorry butts, and get outta here! ...I don't wanna hear no lectahs from dat woman about leavin' Pentheus."

As the bandits continued to attack, figures shot out from the east side of their fort; a lizard man, a younger looking one, a male lancer, and an ebony woman. The four on them rushed and ambushed the bandits from the side, and began to create a hole in their formation. The bandits were slow, and didn't know what was going on, causing their time to counter this new surprise to be refuted. Music began to fill the air, and the attributes of many increased. Soon enough, a big hole was made, and a clear path between the two allied groups appeared. They would be in a much better position with not being surrounded on all sides. And to top it off, the bandit numbers were spiraling. Surely the bandits would not let up, but they would learn soon enough not to mess with FEF.

And so it was that once again, Charice found herself with a magician riding as a passenger, casting Flux spells this way and that at whoever took her fancy. In theory, this was very nice for Charice; although a bit rusty at riding with a passenger, she still knew enough to move not so quickly and mostly just let the Flux do the talking.

"Waugh! For the last time, don't hold on to me! I don't need your help when I'm casting! I'm a noble! I can handle myself!"

...In practice, she still had some nice magic, but unlike Katherine, she was a royal pain in the butt. Oh, well. At least they'd saved her, assuming Charice and Aph survived this. Their odds looked good, at least--most of the bandits couldn't reach them, and the ones that could seemed focused elsewhere.

"Oh, that was not predictable, using an opposing magic... Bah, I will strike those chaps." There were 4 fireballs heading towards him, but with the wind barrier still up, they would diffuse on it. Still, Charles didn't want to cause Akihi more stress, so he used his old trick. 4 streaks of light beamed against the fireballs, and they stopped in place to fall on the ground like a napalm.

More bandits were going down, but it seemed like they were endless. If he could see where the mages and archers were, he could have taken them down, but his sight isn't that great.

The wind had been cleared, and the bandits had been forced to retreat. They were safe, for the time being.

Roy took a knee, then looked up at the dark-skinned woman and the others that had come to their aid. He paused for a moment, then looked away.

"Thanks...for coming to help us. If it weren't for you guys, we would have been overwhelmed, even with my assistance." he said.

Yes, he was ashamed of what he had done. First, he had abandoned the group to come try to play the hero and help out those that were left here. In his defense, some of the people out here he couldn't afford to lose. If Alihi wasn't being treated for her injuries, she would have rushed out here to aid her brother. It was exactly his case, but instead of a sibling to protect, it was his mother.

He got back up to his feet. The young lord only had to use the Rune Sword twice to heal himself. The SoS, rapier, and the dark sword were all sheathed. In his hands was a Steel Sword he had picked up from one of the slain swordmen. Why waste his weapons when he could just use the ones his enemies carried? It was also much easier to discard, since he wasn't planning on carrying them for long. After all, there were always better suited weapons some other sword user would carry (He had already cycled between several Iron swords, a few Slim swords, an Iron Blade, and now the steel sword he was carrying).

They were free to head back now. He turned around.

"Mother...we can fin--"

She wasn't there.

"Mother?"

He looked around. Did she get up on her own, and he had merely missed her? Was someone else supporting her? No. She wasn't with them. And then it hit him.

His mother...had been taken...by the bandits.

He had failed to protect the one person he swore to protect until his father returned.

"No..."

This was a total defeat for the young lord. His commands put his comrades at risk. He thought he could hold off the bandits with the small force he had, but in the end had to be rescued by the very people who would have probably waited too long to come out here (his hastiness to help the others was probably the cause of them coming out here). They had failed to defeat all the bandits. And now, his mother had been taken hostage.

He could understand Alihi's pain when her child was taken from her at that party. But his situation was far different than what the female tactician had to deal with. At least Amara had been kidnapped by a woman and not by some butt-ugly, lustful bandits. Ninian was a full-grown woman, and a very beautiful one at that (yes, he did call his mother beautiful. And no, he did not have an Oedipus complex), not to mention that she was an ice dragon. The dancer would not last out here, unless the bandits took good care of her. The chances of that ever happening? Slim to none. Good, gentlemen-like bandits don't exist.

Roy couldn't head home. What was he going to say the next time he saw either of his Uncles without the dancer with him? Oh, sorry...she was kidnapped by a bunch of bandits? His Uncles would never forgive him. And what if his father saw him now? He couldn't bear to even look at the man, let alone say anything to him, if the older lord truly was here in the desert.

Negative emotions began to swarm into the crevices of his heart and mind. Sorrow. He had someone precious taken away from him. Regret. She was right there, right behind him, and she had been taken without his notice. Guilt. He swore he would protect her, and he failed to do so. Fear. He dared not think about what would become of her.

Anguish. One of the worst emotions for a physically, mentally, and emotionally strained dragon (even though he was only a quarter dragon, dragon blood was dragon blood) to have to ever feel.

Before Feo could have his little fun, he heard the woman demanded her scarf back. The woman wanted her scarf back? Feo couldn't help but chuckled amusingly.

"My dear woman," Feo smiled lustfully as he tucked the dancer's chin underneath his hand. "A delicate desert flower such as yourself shouldn't worry herself over a raggedy cloth. You should be treated with fine jewelry and royal clothes if one is so beautiful."

He then turned to one of his harem and pointed the royal blue silk cloth among the treasury. "You there, bring that robe to me now." He ordered.

The harem girl jumped a bit from the order and went to retrieve the robe. She then walked toward the leader and presented the cloth to him. There was a bit of fear in the harem's look. Feo took the cloth from the harem and placed it over the dancer's shoulder.

"See? This fine cloth matches you so well than that rag you've brought with you." Feo spoke. His voice sounded husky as he went behind the dancer's back. He was still holding two ends of the cloth in his hands.

"Now then..." Feo smiled with lustful desire. He pulled the cloth back, binding the woman's arms together to her body before tying a knot behind. He then pushed her to the ground. If the dancer was lying on her back, she would see a leery look of the leader as he was hovering over her. "Let's have a little fun right away. I have a feeling these bumbling idiots will interrupt me later on, so we might as well do it now."

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The bandits were in chaos, and their comrades were fleeing to safety. Deborah and the others could drive back these scum easily, the way things were going. But then she caught the shouts of a familiar voice. It was Ali, commanding the bandits into the fort. This was good, it was pointless for the bandits to continue, in their current state. It was uncommon for bandits to simply give up, after getting enraged, but Ali was obviously smarter than a regular brigand.

As the main host fled back into the their fort, a few bandits remained outside. Whether they just didn't want to follow orders, or if they were covering their companion's backs, it was uncertain. Whichever reason it was, they were still going to fight. One came toward Deborah, and swung his axe loosely. It was easy to parry, and after doing so, the halberdier smoothly slashed the brigand's side. She spun around and blocked another axe, causing the brigand to flinch, giving Deborah the perfect opening for a jab straight through the lowlife's gut.

Deborah looked around and saw that the others had pretty much taken care of all the other stragglers. The rest of their group were resting; breathing heavily from their long struggle to survive. Quick treatment could be given now, before they quickly fled from the fort. However, something was off. Deborah didn't know all the names of the people in their original group, but she could still remember their faces. A few were missing. As she pondered a little more, she remembered seeing the dancer's face among the surrounded ones, but now she was gone. Deborah found the dancer's son and looked upon him. The look on his face said it all. The bandits had captured one of their group members.

"Damn it to hell!" She growled, in frustration. Ali must have had something to do with this. All the others were simply running wildly, not paying attention to what was happening. Deborah turned to where the others had gathered. "Hurry and apply any healin' items ya got. Deh bandits managed tah capchah one of us, and we're not leavin' her behind! Deh probably got some kinda ambush waiting for us, so be prepared." Deborah pointed to the top of the fort walls. "Even deh archers have stopped firin'. Deh clearly waitin' for us tah go inside. But dey'll be in a big surprise, if deh tink we'll be done in by some petty ambush attempt. So get deh treatment ya need, and let's hurry up. ...A dancer in deh hands of dis leader is not promising."

As the rest of the group applied any bandages, or took any vulneraries they needed, they made their way over to the fort entrance. There was no time to check for other entrances, and they were probably locked anyway. After all, the bandits wanted the group to come through this gate. The group was going to walk right into a trap. But that didn't really matter. They had to save a friend, and damned if some ambush was going to stop them.

Deborah made the motion to move, and the group rushed in. The more powerful of the group took the outside, while the backup units stayed in the center. Looking around, Deborah indeed saw that the bandits were awaiting them. Archers were preparing their bows, and bandits were chuckling, thinking that they were going to catch their prey at last. But Deborah simply chuckled back. "Alright, listen up! deh fools spread demselves out real good. Fight deh best ya can, and get rid of any bandit in sight. When we make a pathway, we'll rush through, until we make it tah where dey got our companion! Don't let up, and ya won't die! Go!"

The tides of battle were not being merciful upon the small group that was fighting in the desert. Who could say that chances of victory would be good with their numbers against the bandits? And yet, Sue and the others had the same feelings: they could not give up, for to surrender was to suffer a fate worse than death.

But that pride she had in battle turned to despair rather quickly, when she'd noticed her General losing his composure. Ninian had been captured, and she hadn't even noticed! How could she even call herself a nomad trooper if she couldn't see a tribeswoman being taken away?

She was about to drop her sword. Sue was feeling like she could no longer keep those oaths she made so many times. She never defended anyone. She never stopped those whom weren't really evil, like the Heroes from dying. How could she face Rath, knowing this happened?

But then she gripped the Silver Sword, choosing not to listen to her reasoning so much. So what if she wasn't perfect, if she was against odds that anyone else would have folded against? It wasn't her place to give up either, or she truly would fail to be a Sacae tribeswoman, one who protected their clan with everything they had. She was tired, but there were reinforcements.

All is not lost.

Even if Roy said the bandit leader was his target, she'd cut open as many of those desert rats as possible! There was to be no mercy, no quarter. They had another FEFer as a captive, and they weren't going to show them any mercy, for sure.

"... let's go..." was all she said, addressing no one in particular, but being one of the first to move into battle. When she did engage in a fight, the anguish she faced turned to frustration, and it showed in the speed she sliced one of the bandits' throats. "One down..."