It's never as clean or as easy as you hear in the stories, not that Dotazaic could actually remember any of the stories specifically at the moment. Prison break stories were always a popular source of entertainment at some of the less reputable taverns that he had been 'invited' to over the years, and there was a common issue with all of them: ending the tale with the escape cuts out all the truly hard bits. No story that Dotazaic had ever heard had mentioned the grueling hours of fleeing on foot, constantly looking over your shoulder in fear of the mounted soldiers who were no doubt out there looking for you, nor the constant paranoia that gripped your thoughts on that walk.

Could this have been staged to lower my guard? Was I broken out just so I could be punished further or subjected to a far crueler fate than the executioners axe? These thoughts and more occupied Dotazaic's thoughts as his body wearily followed the group of escapees through the grasslands behind their apparent savior.

Fortunately, before his paranoid and fatigued mind could convince him to do something immensely stupid like running off into the grasslands, his thoughts were interrupted by the man who called himself Tychus, who announced that they had company. Nowhere near tall enough to be able to see over the top of the rest of the group in front him in order to catch a glimpse of their adversaries, Dotazaic instead searched the ground for anything that could be used as a makeshift weapon. Finding nothing of any use to him, he quietly cursed to himself about how stupid he was not to have grabbed something from the prison camp on his way out. Anything at all would have been more useful than the grass and dirt that seemed to be the only things to hand. Then he caught sight of their opponents and all thoughts of fighting left him.

Off in the distance he could see an enormous plate-clad figure who was holding a warhammer which had a head the size of his entire torso; one hit from that thing would very definitely spell the end for him. However, the woman who slid from her hiding place in the grasses was the one who really caught his attention and got his heart properly racing with fear. She carried an air of casual lethality about her, but more than that, he got the feeling that even encumbered with weapons as she was, there was no way he could escape her alone. Even accounting for the height disparity, Dotazaic was confident in being able to out-sprint a being in full plate armor, but he felt there would be no escape from this woman.

Nonetheless, when he heard the urgency in Tychus' voice when he told them all to flee, he didn't stick around to question the order. He knew perfectly well how useless he would be in his current state; even if he had a weapon to hand he wasn't sure he'd know how to use it, let alone keep up with Tychus. All in all, he'd just be a hindrance here, and he had every mind to put as much distance between these bounty hunters and his scalp as he possibly could. Hearing the human escapee call back to the group, Dotazaic replied as he ran past him. The stilt was only jogging. Typical.

[color=fff79a]"You don't need to tell me, lad. Now put those legs to good use before you catch a spear to the torso..."[/color]