Shortly, they were fed a greasy, pasty gruel by one of the skinny, wretched slaves, under close supervision from a guard. They could smell the cooking meat and cheap wine that the slavers themselves enjoyed, nearby - likely not a coincidence. As night arrived, the camp was cloaked in darkness, for this was an overcast night, devoid of starlight or moonlight. In the distance, the howls of strange creatures could be heard. Needless to say, sentries were posted.
Gods only know what's out there.
No worries, mate. Most of the guards and slaves slept, but neither Rillen nor Songa were able to. Apparently, there were others who had the same problem. The bandit had been obsessed with the big warrior-woman since first laying eyes on her. Scream and I'll cut out yer tongue.