As soon as the girl hit the ground, Marnid knew exactly what kind of men he was dealing with. Though they were undoubtedly trained to act even if their leader fell, he could not stand for injustice. This was unlike him. But then again, he was unsure of why being offered to some strange women would do him any good. Better still, it sounded like they were sacrificial lambs. Weighing his chances was always what he did but this was a matter of life and death. Would it be better to live for now, unarmed and uncertain of the future or risk death with a handful of strangers who had nothing to lose right now? The answer was obvious but it'd be better to even the odds.

Walking forward, he threw his blackjack in front of the Legion's commander's feet in contempt as he knelt beside the girl. Whispering in to her ear, he spoke.

"You didn't answer me girl. If there was a place to go, where is it?"

((Yeah, he's been waiting for an answer for a while. If you could answer, then it'll be possible to arrange for a tactical retreat.))

Sigrun felt the sting dissipate from her body at a slow pace, and her body transferred from the fetal position to a relaxed state, now lying on the ground. She could feel a large bruise that had formed where she was struck. One of the men knelt down and whispered a message, a question, into her ear. She turned her head in pain, and her expression displayed it clearly.
"The desert goes on flat for miles, nothing to take cover behind at all." she replied softly. Escape would be impossible from this point due to the terrain, and even if they have the ability to run away, the legion could easily decimate them from the close proximity.
"It's best to give in for now. Better to live a couple days longer than to die right here."

The legionary heard Sigrun's voice, and with no concern towards her whatsoever, he kicked her face almost instantaneously. He gave no reasoning for this, and it merely seemed as if he was bullying the weak. She groaned in pain as his armored foot hit her squarely in the jaw. Unamused by her utterances, he kicked her again. He then turned to Marnid.
"Conversation is strictly forbidden at this moment, and is disrespectful to the Imperial Legion. Those who utter either sigh or word shall be reprimanded."
He then threw a kick at Marnid's chest.

Well he tried thought Marnid. Even he couldn't escape this time, especially not after taking such a blow to his chest. It almost knocked the wind out of him but it probably served him right for thinking uncharacteristically. He landed flat on his back on the heated sand with little intention to get up quickly unless ordered to do so. Now it was all up to the decisions of the others. The knight might fight but it was no longer Marnid's problem. Steel Arm Thenza was it? Well it wouldn't be such a bad thing if the slight was returned tenfold. Perhaps at a later time. If there were ever to be a later time. Again with this kind of thinking. Perhaps being a slave to fate was starting to wear thin.

OOC: I'm either posting wayyy later tonight or tomorrow afternoon. >.> Je promets.

Vincent smiled beneath his mask. They were taking any potential weapons, even punching the girl for her book. Still, it would be difficult to survive the desert, and he doubt that he wouldn't be noticed sneaking out, so to surrender was the only option in his mind. However, he wouldn't try to simply give up everything so easily, and hid his knives in places one wouldn't think to search (being as descreet as possible; He wasn't noticed as the rest, or at least, he believed that) unless they were thorough in finding anything that could used as a weapon. he then took out his cestus from his hands, so disappointed he couldn't use them.

And besides, seeing a Empress might be fun.

Her arrow, still strung, was lowered. It was clear as their dire situation continued to deteriorate before them, that things were going to continue to go downhill, they had no escape. Curse the barren desert and its unappealing hiding spots, the best she could think of was perhaps hiding underneath a layer of sand, though for that to work she would need a large chunk of time to perfectly conceal herself, and one could never be sure whether or not they would jab into the sand to find escapees. They had asked for them to give up their weapons, which would be fine, archers had to be quite flexible to switch from far to close combat so she would user said close combat abilities to escape.

Tiandra unnocked her arrow, that's when she saw the other girl, who seemed to be quite quick to give up as the situation grew worse and worse. Her eyes widened and she cringed slightly as the other girl fell to the ground, asking if she could keep a simple book. That was just cruel, though it reminded her of the nature of soldiers, they were usually quite scummy men. Especially her being a woman she was at risk, she would have to be very careful and keep her eyes and ears open while around them. She would miss her quiver, for she knew she wouldn't see it again they would probably destroy everything, all her arrows, her bow, thankfully she knew the herbs required for her poison concoction, unfortunately it would be hard to come across the black powder, it was a gift from her mysterious benefactor. Thankfully she kept a small amount on the inside of her boots, though no one would recognize it because it looked just like dirt.

She dropped her weapons in front of the soldier, making sure to keep out of arm's reach from the man. Tia felt extremely tense while in their situation. She walked over to the side of the girl and knelt down, she seemed to know these people well enough so perhaps she would know what to do next.

((Half of the first paragraph is the legionary speech, thus I compensated. edit: sayo complained so i fixed it))

Mere minutes felt like hours as the storm continued to rage around them. As of yet the opposing party had not stepped forward, or so he was led to believe, which was somewhat disconcerting to the knight as Thenza didn't seem to be one for cowardice. The knight almost felt compelled to run, but his conscious would not allow him to leave his would-be allies in such potentially harsh conditions. The wind began to die down and the sand with it, revealing the legionnaires mere feet away from the group, weapons drawn and faces emotionless. Rows more of the legionnaires stood behind the initial, making it apparent to the knight that defeat was already at hand; though defeat was not something he would give in to easily. a single legionary with decorated armor, presumably announcing his rank, made his way through the mass of soldiers to the front and began to speak ferociously. "Illegal travelers!" the man shouted as if attempting to intimidate them. He paused before continuing. "You have trespassed into territory ruled by "Steel Arm" Emperor Thenza without passing through the designated checkpoints! There is no sufficient data which states you have passed the border legally." The knight knew little of where he was, but it was apparent he had gotten there through devious methods. The man continued on, threatening to raze the entire village and take them to an empress the knight had heard little of. The legionnaires remained unmoving.

Isaac hoped it was a mere intimidation tactic to make them co-operative, but the knight did not doubt one such as Thenza, nor any of his soldiers. The presumed officer brandished his sword and signaled the legionnaires. The kard-wielding woman was the first to step forward and give in her armament before asking the officer a question sheepishly. The man's reply was a cruel mailed punch to the woman's gut, causing her to collapse to the desert floor. To threaten the lives of the village inhabitants came off as little more then words to the knight, yet action-against a female, no less!-- opened old wounds that seeped fury into the knight's blood. The tactician gave up his club shortly thereafter and seemed to utter a question to the woman, bringing the legionary's wrath yet again. Blood began to boil within the knight and a battle cry would have penetrated his throat were he able to do so. All rational thought left the knight's mind as he brandished his blade just below his chest, holding it in a death grip. The urge to stab through the decorated legionnaires' armor wherever a chink may be was overwhelming, and in mere moments he would give in; thrusting the blade forward at the legionnaires' chest in an attempt to pierce, or at least throw him off balance for another potential strike. The knight was well aware this was likely his last battle, but the bastard had to die.

OoC: I CAN'T WRITE MORE THAN THIS, WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!

The second blow to the woman was too much, something snapped inside him; Dartreigh couldn't restrain his anger anymore, his entire body was filled with enough tension to make him jump. His hair raised the slightest amount and he clenched his teeth so hard his jaws were in pain. When he saw the knight about to attack with his sword, he reacted and made a short sprint towards the legionnaire. In a split second, he held his javelin with both arms preparing for a piercing stab. He couldn't even think of a method to attack him, his instincts just had him lunge at the only enemy he could see during that moment. When he closed enough distance, he leaped and aimed for the front of the legionnaire's head with a thrust that he gave with all of his strength.

Dart didn't mind that it was practically certain he would be killed afterward, but as long as his target dies, he thought he would be content. The knight probably felt the same, although he was probably more prepared for the several others in the legion to attack. Thenza may have the skills to avoid the same situation, but a mere higher ranked pawn wasn't invincible like him. The distance between them was completely closed. He was not prepared for the legionnaire to live, he would be caught completely off-guard in that scenario.

The legionnaire took notice of the rising tension before the attacks. As both of the foolish warriors raised their arms in battle, he did not reveal an ounce of fear, bloodlust, or any other emotion caused by conflict. His expression was blank, the same grave mask he had been wearing not too long before. He glanced at the javelin toting warrior first. As the man plummeted towards him, he raised his hand, and took hold of the javelin with incredible strength. The soldier unbelievably held Dart up by the javelin with his right hand. He still conveyed no expression.
He turned to the knight charging him, and lifted his arm which held the sword. Calmly and sternly, he calculated the point of entry, then blocked the knight's sword with his own in a stalemate.
"Clearly your unfettered rage has caused both of you to become disillusioned. You cannot hope to strike down a hardened soldier with your pitiful attacks. I have trained for years to overcome my emotions and advance beyond the capabilities of a normal soldier, simply because I waste less precious time on emotions that blind judgment. Thereby, I increase my efficiency by a minimum of twenty five percent." he explained to both in his unremarkable tone.
The entire legion is trained to overcome human weaknesses. The exercises they perform are the exact same that Thenza once underwent to perceive his abilities and strength. In absolving the mind of all that distracts one from fighting, he has given birth to the perfect soldier.

"Now, who should I strike down for disobeying the decree? One of you, or one of the innocent who have surrendered to the Empire?"

Dartreigh was desperate, yet in complete awe at what was happening. He was actually lifted and being treated like a nuisance. His emotions hadn't completely fogged his mind, he still managed to reach down into his left pocket while his right arm was holding him up as steady as it could, but his fingers were trembling, and they scrambled for the knives. He accidentally cut his palm, but he ignored it and only grimaced. He only had a few, but sparing two might save his life, it was no sacrifice. It had all happened within one or two seconds a moment after his attack had been avoided, and he threw two knives at the same time aiming for his head once again. His face was at an angle that couldn't easily be reached from his point since he was speaking to the others, but he tried his best. With surprising accuracy, one of them actually went on the course he had hoped for, while the other strayed off and aimed towards his chest. If it had not worked, he was prepared to either let go of his javelin or yank himself free by frantically kicking this unbelievable foe. He didn't know why he was even trying, each one of the soldiers behind him was probably just as prepared, but he wouldn't embarrass himself by giving in, especially after the situation he had created.

Dart hoped the knight would attempt to attack again as well, if the legionnaire were to let go in order to deflect the knives and counter the knight, he had hold of his javelin again, but if he threw him instead (Which was entirely possible, especially since he lifted his entire body with ease), he had to be quick enough to balance himself and lunge again. He thought he wasn't prepared for this scenario, but his reflexes, although desperate and twitchy, managed to do something. Confusing or startling wouldn't work against this man, Dart couldn't think of anything to do in such a short amount of time but to simply continuously attack. They were goners anyway, he would be content with taking out just one.

Now was his chance.

The sandstorm had caught Viper off-guard, his mask making things very hard to see, and thus when it was revealed that Thenza had retreated and left them to deal with the legionaries, he was quite suprised. A man who seemed to be their leader asked for their surrender, and that their weapons would be given up. He didn't want by any means to give up his bow, but DID consider it, if it was for his safety. Then he saw the previously frightened girl give up her weapon and ask to keep her book, which she wasn't allowed. That probably meant they would take his mask...

...And he would rather die than give that up. He saw one more man give his weapon, then kneel down to speak to the girl, which he was punished for. He wasn't to give up without a fight, and that was what he'd give. The arrow that he was holding steady as he was deep in thought was suddenly aimed at the hand holding the leader's sword. If he could make him lose his grip, even just slightly, the warrior could break free of the defence and quite possibly make a fatal strike with his sword. It was a small target, but it was close, and this wasn't training. Right now he was determined to strike his target more than anything before.

Tensing his muscles, steadying his grip, and waiting for a moment where there would be no obstructions (AKA) to his shot only took a split second,and then his arrow flew lightning fast towards his target ((okay, maybe not as fast as lightning, but you get the point-that arrow was FAST)). The arrow was poisonous, just to make sure that hand would weaken. It was more than strong enough that, if it hit, it would more than likely pierce the armor despite the fact that it wasn't designed specifically for piercing things-it WAS an arrow, after all. As fast as the arrow had gone another took its place as he pulled it against the string of the bow, this one aimed for the leader's neck. He didn't aim as carefully as last time, but it still flem towards the leader. He then drew one more, aimed it carefully at a legionary, and fired it. He then repeated the process with another before drawing one more, ready to fire it at any legionaries that tried to help their leader.

The legionnaire indeed saw the knives thrown at his face, as well as the arrows speeding towards him, but neither flinched nor panicked. The knives pierced his face, and he did not cringe. The solemn expression plastered on his face did not shift. He practically ignored the knives presence; it was merely a light wound. The first arrow shot at the armor bounced off violently, snapping in two as it ricocheted off the steel. The second perched itself in the outermost flesh of his neck, not even close to the vital regions. He lifted his leg up, push-kicking the knight from their stalemate and launching him in the general direction of the male archer. Then, he whipped the other warrior from the javelin, throwing him several feet from the legionnaire, throwing his knives in the sand near him.
"What a pitiful display, but I admit I expected more from a group of heavily armed travelers. You wield some of the strongest weapons I have seen from a ragtag group, yet you don't know how to use them effectively. That greatly diminishes your abilities in battle, and coupled with the fact you are fighting out of blind rage, you never stood a chance." He explained to the three.
The legionnaire motioned for the rest of the legion to escort the four who surrendered towards the capital. Immediately they were hauled from the surrounding area and began to trek towards The Great Pyramids of the South.
-------
Their hands were bound behind their back to prevent rash offensive actions, stemming from the dangerous behavior of the last three members of the group, who now seemed to be at the mercy of the head legionnaire Kosos
He was a fear inducing man, and Sigrun shivered at the thought of once knowing him, his face was all to familiar. From his actions, he didn't remember her. However, they were barely acquaintances from the start, just that he caught her once while she had been stealing under the Black Man's orders. Kosos was not a legionnaire at that time, so he didn't reprimand her, only asked her if she had a name. He seemed different then. It was something about Thenza's exercises that corrupted a man's soul, throwing away emotions for efficiency in combat. How...brutal...
-------
Kosos tossed the javelin in his hand, deciding who to waste.
"Each of you must pay the price for your impudence." he announced, his attention diverting from one to the other each moment. The knight and the archer were close enough to be killed with one clean throw, then he could finish off the last with his sword.
"Who wishes to die first and end it now?" he roared "I will make it as painless as it is possible. But please, make this quick, I must raze the camp and punish the tribe before they escape." His voice was cold, no guilt, no emotion, no soul. He was not a man.

OOC: By the way, if your character dies, you can submit another one if you please. However you'll have to wait until I can integrate you into the story before you can post. Also, middle section with Sigrun is an example of "digging" into back stories for the characters. Just little moments. By the way, I'll allow to to do almost anything with NPCs, because I'm versatile enough to work around things like that. However, if it's something that has to do with another player character, you need to contact the other player and set something up so they aren't surprised and unaware. Just thought you should know! ^_^

((Or we could go through with it, YOU PANSY. Sorry for the short post, just wasn't really feeling it.))

The knights' drive was quickly eroding as the legionnaire displayed his skill, picking up the spearman-who was in mid-lunge, no less!-- like a toy. His movements were quick and precise as evident by the last second clash of blades, and as steel met steel they began to fight in stalemate. The legionnaires' strength was quickly put to use; it took the entirety of the knights' mass and strength to even hope of fending the demonic warrior off. While the two tried to overcome one another, the spearman and an archer had sprung into action. Two knives made their way towards the legionary, aimed for the face, and one struck true; yet the mans' expression remained as stony and lifeless as ever. At the same time, two arrows flew over the knights' shoulder and one buried into flesh, still failing to earn even a flinch from their foe. Their stalemate was quickly put to an end as the legionnaire placed a firm kick to the knights' chest, nearly knocking him down. He skidded what must have been several feet across the desert sands before coming to a stop, though this did not deter him from rushing back. Fervent battle had withdrawn all fear, replacing it with fury and bloodlust, yet this emotion seemed to aid the knight as he raised his sword to chest-height and prepared to dig his blade into the legionnaires' torso.

His life was coming to an end for an incredibly stupid reason, but Dartreigh didn't even think about the reason for his situation. It was clear they wouldn't survive, he wouldn't win no matter how many chances he were given. The archer's arrows were ignored, even if they made their way to a vital organ, the legionnaire could probably ignore it long enough to wipe them out. That wouldn't surprise him at all, after he had seen what the man could do: ignore a knife directly thrown at his face, an arrow in his body, while one of his arms is occupied and his other is fending off a knight, all with that same expressionless face of his. He only had five knives left, they would clearly do nothing unless he would stand absolutely still for him to walk up and stab him, even then he could probably survive. His javelin was in the monster's hand as well, he didn't think about being thrown off by losing his grip of his only useful weapon. Either him or the archer could be killed right at that instant, they had no way to defend themselves.

It was as the man said, their emotions did nothing for their survival, not even fury that would drive their body to do extraordinary things would help them. They would have to restart their lives to be trained the same way as the soldiers just to have a chance at beating him. Hope was no longer found inside Dart, not even the tiny thought that he would be able to take out one of the soldiers remained. He might as well commit spiritual suicide before he had his head sliced off. If he attacked the legionnaire, he would have a javelin through his heart, but that would allow the archer to live a few more precious seconds, he probably didn't have the same suicidal thoughts as he did, and he just might be allowed to live.

Dart stood up once more as quickly as he could with his shaking body. His mind became eerily calm, and he was just a shadow of a person trying to die, positive thoughts failed to reach him. His nervous system was the only thing holding him back, but he ignored it and his shaking hands reached into his left pocket to throw three knives at the man's head once again, he was much farther away this time, he couldn't tell if they were taking the correct course or not. Probably not even one would make it. The other knives in the sand near him were ignored, they only reminded him of failure. He held the last two in each hand, and made a clumsy sprint towards his invincible foe one last time. If he made it before the javelin killed him, he would blindly stab the monster's face for even the smallest chance of killing him by damaging any part in his head.