[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/K3XcSwZ.png[/img][/center][hr][hr]

It was a simple plan, really. To surround the enemy's encampment and prevent any escape was the mere basics of assaulting a fortified location. Had the encampment been less fortified by the thicket, it would have allowed the enemy to 'escape'. In turn, they would be attacked by a cavalry charge. But tactics didn't matter for this disparity of skill. As proven by their previous encounter, the bandits would have been a joke; mere fodder was to be cut down in order to reach the bandit king. Throwing one's unit at an encampment would, with this difference in power, most likely be akin to a group of men stomping on an ant's nest. No strategy was needed for overwhelming force.

She already had two people interested in joining her group. The mad bomber and some knight. The bomber entered with... less enthusiasm than a soldier would have. The choice in party didn't matter (it didn't for all of them, really) to her. The knight was slightly more interested. He wore a set of bum-armour. As if scavenged from a hedge, it was storied with marks of battle, only to be repaired. The armour was older than him.

Well, she didn't really have anything to say to them. Only two words escaped her mouth:

[color=C57467]"Let's go."[/color]