"Aye, we can trade fer it indeed," the man beamed. "So, err.. Which one of you two are we trading?" He glanced at his men with a shit eating grin on his face. "I mean, the one hidin' 'er face could possibly be-Hrrk." The man slumped forward as a chained knife stuck from his chest, Shria's arm raised, the chain wrapped around it.
"Slavers, why is it always slavers," she murmured as she gripped the chain and pulled the man from his horse. The others starting to shout in anger and approaching them.