"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.

"That's an old one," Maedoc said. It was a sonic grenade. Something fancy like that wasn't made anymore. Too delicate and costly. The military had a stash of them, of course, so it wasn't like they were missing out anyway. Every time one burned out, though, they got a little rarer. "Pretty nasty little things. Prolonged exposure can make you go deaf. Permanently. They're reusable, but they burn out after a while. Or just put it to full power and it'll basically explode and knock out anyone in the room, ear protection or not. Only seen them a few times, and only got to use them once."

They'd basically just emit a loud noise for as long as you set it for, unless set to detonate, and they were quite capable of shattering glass and eardrums alike.

"Let's hope we don't have to use this one any time soon. It's not exactly fun for anyone involved and draws too much attention," he told her. The last thing they needed while thieving were incredibly loud noises. "Anyway, pack up whatever gear you want to bring. Once we rob the salvagers, we shouldn't stick around. I want to be on the move immediately. We can risk showing our faces around here again after we pull this off..."

If everything went well, no one would care what he stole. Or at least they wouldn't dare do anything about it. But that would only be after they succeeded. If her stealth skills didn't pan out... they'd care plenty.

"Ai!" Ridahne looked at the small device with a newfound appraisal, though she couldn't decide if she was fascinated by it or if she loathed it. "I have seen one of these before...or, not the thing itself, but what it does. A man came to me in the Dust Sea--found me because I decided to set up a fire pit outside, so he got lucky--but he could not hear me and his ears bled. He told me a story of how it happened to him, that the military people had somehow captured and tamed a spirit that wailed in agony when it was released, and the sound of its keening made his inner ear parts go pop! I didn't believe him, but he could find no other way to explain what happened. I know now." She held the thing in her slim hands as if it were as fragile as a robin's egg, staring at it with a curious expression on her inked face. Ridahne replaced the device in its protein bar box.

"I will assume we will not be staying here afterward. Just in case." Ridahne rose gracefully and began to gather what few things she had scattered around the concrete pad and stuffed them into her large hiking pack that had seen much sun and much wear but was still holding strong all the same. She was incredibly efficient with what she did have, though, and packed quickly--a sure sign that she was well accustomed to a nomadic life. When finished, she hefted her pack on her slim shoulders and disappeared into the nearby rubble to go and bury it amongst some broken concrete so it would still be there when she came back, ready for quick retrieval. She had a much smaller pack, one that was slim and with out much in the way of zippers or buckles but instead was leather and canvas and had a hefty drawstring top with a dust flap over it. The pack looped around her chest and sat diagonally across her back, fitting in perfectly with the sword and long knife she wore also. She did also put on shoes, which she seemed to detest but found them altogether necessary for anything beyond normal daily activities. They were light, dusty, and very quiet.

"I am ready. Are you staying here while I get horses, or do you have the strength to come with?"