[b]"Or... I could take a third option, and do what [i]I[/i] want to do rather than letting a noble sprig dictate terms. Soooo... There's that."[/b] Ronan raised his hand in the air, and his companions simultaneously drew their bows. [b]"I wouldn't worry too much: you're worth more in ransoms or as a pet than you are dead. Your guards though are fighting men, and they seem loyal- which is going to cause me problems. So what I suppose I'm trying to say is... 'I'm sorry, but you should probably duck'."[/b]

Ronan lowered his hand swiftly, and in perfect time with his movement the twenty-odd bows released. There was a loud clamour, filled with bowstrings twanging, the unmistakable 'stuff' noise that arrows made as they cut through the air, and a large number of fleshy thuds as the thick wooden shafts embedded themselves in the ground, the guards, and Alianor's horse. Ronan looked at the messy scene with a grim distaste, then flicked his wrist in a silent motion for his crew to come and clean them out. The guards had better quality equipment than they did, which would surely come in handy... And let's face it, good horse meat was hard to come by anyway. Ronan barely had time to walk over to Alianor before two eager bandits had set about butchering the fallen animal. He offered a hand to help Alianor to her feet, looking at the noble woman half-pityingly, half-disdainfully.

[b]"It can't be nice, being out in your place like this. But, if you play nice, I'll give you your request- no ropes, no more killing. Come quietly and we'll put a roof over your head, feed you, and keep you safe until we decide what we're going to do with you. Oh, and give your jewels over to my second Huxley."[/b]