[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjcyLmE5NGIxMC5UV0ZuWkdGc1pXNWxJRTloYTNOMFpXRmsuMA/dalek.regular.png[/img][/center] Magdalene did her best to keep her composure as the losing battlefield quickly devolved into hell. No matter how hard they fought, regardless of the she managed to fire, everything just got [i]worse[/i]. More of the Bone Clansmen swarmed in, the tent became more and more tattered, the sandstorm worsened on them... It took more effort just keeping calm than actually fighting these damned raiders... The whole experience was painfully familiar to the Band of Wolves' final night; Superior armed opponents pouring through the camp, cutting down anyone and everyone. Their own bows and clubs laughably useless compared to seasoned warriors. Only this time it was much worse; The sandstorm threatened to rip the skin off their bones at this point, and they could call themselves lucky if a single one of them survived. Then, suddenly, a ring of fire roared as it surrounded the group. Shortly after, the tent fell over, the full brunt of the sandstorm now flooding into the tent. Following her old trusted survival tactic, Magdalene hit the ground, pulling up her hood over her head and closing her eyes. Between acting like a corpse and hiding behind a small flipped over group of furniture, she'd be completely overlooked. Her best hope at the moment was that the Clansmen would finally flee and let the sandstorm finish off their group of travelers. She didn't actually expect making it out of this situation alive. She didn't see the light that enveloped the group, and mistook it's warmth as the desert. She did, however, feel the coarse sand and dirt give way to smooth and cool stone, and heard the cacophonic carnage grind to a halt. Magdalene raised herself up on her knees, her entire body still quivering, and looked around. They'd left the ruined and ravaged tent of the camp below, and were now in a courtyard, surrounded by knights and robed figures of various sizes and build. The air was no longer blistering and full of dust particles, but instead clean and refreshing, allowing Magdalene some fresh air. Upon registering that they were now safe and still alive in Exusia, Magdalene fell backwards, collapsing back onto the courtyard's expertly-cut tiles, letting out a long and rough groan of relief as she gazed up at the blue cloudless sky above. She could've even started to cry in joy at the sheer miracle that rescued them. But, they had a job at hand. One of the knights stood forward and, repeating the same terms as the now-dead delegate below, ordered them to drop their weapons and magical tools, before their audience with the Queen. Despite her initial protest the first time, Magdalene had no arguments this time. After the ordeal she just endured, she had no privilege of withholding her weapons, especially not when the hospitality of Exusia was the only thing saving them from the savage raid of the Bone Clans below. Sitting herself up, she realized she was still clutching her crossbow, even after dropping to the ground and being teleported leagues into the sky. One of the knights walked towards her, and she handed it over to him. Reaching into her pouch, she handed over her knife as well. Confused for a moment, she looked down at Poe; [color=9B631B]"I Don't... suppose my bird counts as a weapon?"[/color] Magdalene asked the knight as she stood up properly, her voice still hoarse and shaky. She held up Poe on her palm. The black bird flapped their wings and pecked at their feathers, flinging off what remained of the sand.