Gawain clumsily stepped forwards, body battered still from the beating he had received. He had followed the Eretol lady, and proceeded to the church, which was nothing more than a heap of smoldering ruins at this point. [i]By God,[/i] how could the elves sustain being in the smoke so long? Some elven magic, surely. Gawain himself was trying his best not to cough his damn lungs up..

As he approached the church the elf, whom seemed to be the leader, approached him and rudely dragged him by the arm. A shove further and Gawain was standing next to the large steed. It was a fine steed, making Gawain wonder how the elves could even afford such beasts. He'd seen many horses in the royal stables that would appear inferior to this steed. The elf instructed him to take seat, or rather, take saddle. [i]“Why not give me my own horse? Surely you have had casualties. Their horses must be around here.”[/i] he asked, rebelliously looking back at the man. Or elf, rather. [i]“I mean, my hands are bound, I have no armor and you have my weapons. If I survive your warriors chasing me down, I won't survive the desert. Surely, my own horse would be benefici-”[/i] 

He interrupted himself, taking a moment of silence before looking at the horse again. It seemed he reached the conclusion of futility in asking the man for his own horse. [i]“Right.. I didn't think so..”[/i] he silently mumbled as he grabbed the horses reins and slung himself on top. It was a timely process, since his hands were bound. If the elf had been so stupid as to let him sit on the back of the horse, Gawain could've tried to strangle him and take him hostage - force the elves to give him weapons, and armor, and then take a horse and make an escape. But no, the elf seemed smarter than that.

Must've taken slaves before.

As soon as he was seated he looked at the elf, viciously. [i]“I'll have you know that if we happen to get ambushed by angry mages, I'll be hopping off of this horse. I'd rather not serve as your meat-shield, and I'm sure you'd rather fight without me on your horse. No disrespect, elf.”[/i] The word 'elf' came out even more vicious than Gawain's face was at this moment. Before he came to this area, to investigate the border region, he had hated the elves and the mages. When the mage captured him, he had hated mages more than elves. But now that the elves had captured him without even as much as a chance at defending himself, he really, [i]really[/i] hated the elves. And he was sure that they knew as much.

When the elf asked for his name he intended, with every inch of his body, to simply meet the elf with silence. But Gawain's arrogance and self esteem prohibited him from doing as much. He wished to die with at least his name known - so that perhaps he could go down as a hero, fighting an elven warband who tried to harm civilians. It would be a painful death, probably, but it'd be better than dying a nameless knight. [i]“My name is Gawain Castagher.. of Keep Sudval. You'd do well to remember it.”[/i] The mans words were aimed to be a threat - indirectly so, anyway. It cost Gawain a lot of patience to keep himself from simply taking the horse and attempting to ride off with it, or to jump at the elf and tear his throat out. His bound hands might have stopped him from doing the latter, but a skilled knight needed no hands to ride a horse. [i]“I'd rather band up with the mages than the elves, right about now..”[/i] he softly mumbled as he looked forwards, out into the desert, waiting for the elf to mount the horse and do whatever he wanted to do. 

It was so humiliating, being captured like this.