"No shit," she said in a little bit clearer of an accent--obviously vocabulary she'd learned abroad. "I am not from here. Not at all." She smiled a bit at that, as if making fun of herself and apologizing for any linguistic or social shortcomings she would inevitably have. She was glad to hear that their opponents were just brigands--that word, she knew well. Noisy, bold, but determined brigands. Often violent, forceful, and not terribly subtle. There, they had an advantage. 

"Well, if you dont have any cash up front, then I'm going to have to steal some food and supplies. Not to mention the horses. If I'm gonna do the legwork for you, then you better make it worth my while afterward. Meaning money. But yes. I can do that." Ridahne happened to know this settlement he spoke of and knew how to get around without using obvious roads, but she'd have to do a little sleuthing to find the horse stables and a suitable place to pilfer supplies. But at least she knew what kinds of supplies to get, as she came from a desert planet herself, and knew a great deal more about how to actually put them to good and efficient use. She had spent very little time out in the wastes (very, very little) and though it was different than the more picturesque sands of home, survival skills were survival skills all the same.

"My goal is to not be discovered. Like I said, my skills are in secrecy and stealth. I am a strong woman but let's face it," she gestured to herself: a tall, thin frame more befitting a dancer than a brutish warrior. "There is only so much of me and I don't pretend to believe otherwise. Brute force is not what I do. But don't you worry about me. I prefer a sword, as it is more precise and it feels like an extension of myself. It is...an art. But I am not archaic or naive. I have other weapons and am well trained in them."

Ridahne dragged over a duffle bag--a raggedy, dusty thing that had seen better days--and began to show him its contents. She had a classic pistol, the kind that took old fashioned bullets and was small enough to be easily concealed under the right clothing, one small grenade like object that emitted toxic smoke instead of an explosion, a little black baton with an extendable wire cable that, when she turned it on, arced a squirming blue electricity all around it so that she effectively had a lightning whip, which could disable opponents as well as machinery. Lastly she produced a small box that had once held protein bars, and took from it a little stone sized object with a basic button, and a bag of what was clearly ultrasonic earplugs. 

"I've never used this one," she explained. "I got it off a dead man. Probably a thief who went running into the dust to hide himself but had no idea how to survive. I can guess what it's purpose is, but I don't know just how loud or destructive this thing actually is. I thought about selling it not that long ago, actually. Do you know anything about it?" Ridahne held it out to him, the little object sitting like a smooth, polished black agate in her brown palm.