Above the bandits, the cry of a raven broke the dusky silence. The cloaked figure stood in the distance, just blending in with the shadows. The only thing giving it away was the red sash tied around it's middle. The cloak billowed out when a breeze made it's way through the trees and there was no attempt to hide.
Booted feet crunched rocks and broken branches, crushed leaves. The lookout stood up, surprised to see someone so far into the forest but before he could get out a strangled cry a sword was shoved through his middle. Quickly it was whipped out the side and a splatter of blood dripped down the tree. A quiet sigh and the figure moved on, stepping into the camp. The camp smelled like old blood, the scent of wrong was heavy and quickly the figure looked up, gazing at the raven for a moment before she took the hood off.
"I've finally found you!" She exclaimed, "You know, I've been tracking you." The tone of voice was as if she'd been asking them if they had tea on and if they would be so kind as to let her join them. "Your watch is sloppy," the sword flicked again and the fresh blood made an arch on the dirt, "if any of you survive... Well, I'd suggest you start up with a better one." The raven cried again and Raizel grinned widely before looking up, pleased that her little chase was over finally.
"As it is, I'm afraid now is when you pay for those innocents you've killed and the only payment you're able to give is in blood and tears." A lick of her lips and a tilt of her head, she raised her sword and rushed in. The movements were exact, no swing was wasted, no strike was useless. It was violent and messy and the chocking sob of one bandit trying to swallow her sword was the only thing that broke the silence between heavy breathing and movement. She had counted seven bandits, four lay dead which meant there were three left. Two of them she could see, glaring at her trying to decide if they should run away or try and kill her, but the third, where was the third?