Just as Deon's pressed down against the flexible chain weave of Elora's armoured crotch and<em>rubbed</em>, which elicited a soft gasp from the elf, Beatrice stumbled into the clearing. The short chain between her legs made it hard for the witch to walk on the rough forest floor. Deon stopped in his ministrations and quickly checked the hourglass to make sure that it was still Elora’s turn to be with her master. Then, he shot the newcomer and angry glance.<br/><br/>“Shoo, girl! Or would you like Elora to bust in on you when you are with me? Do you really think this is going to win you any favours?” Deon asked angrily and his dismissive words hit the young woman like a whip, making her cringe. She didn’t turn around, though, but remained standing at the edge of the depression. Her head was lowered in submission, but her body seemed agitated.<strong>”What!”</strong>Deon asked, his temper rising.<br/><br/>Slowly, the chastised, intimidated witch raised her hand – and there was a barbed<em>arrow</em>sticking through. “Lizardfolk, master.” She said in a timid voice, as if Deon’s disapproval was worse than both the situation and her injury.<br/><br/><strong>“To arms!”</strong>Deon shouted and that made Elora buckle in his lap. She was still tied down, though. Hurriedly, he tore off the blindfold and cut through the leather strap with the knife he had used to tease her with. “Get the girls and get us to high ground!” Deon instructed the paladin. While Elora got her bearings and drew her sword, the priest went up to the wounded witch.<br/><br/>“Come.” He told her and gently but firmly pulled her along by her shoulder. Beatrice hadn’t earned the trust of the party, yet, and she was pretty useless in the fight without her spellbook and waddling on a chain. Deon’s hand started to glow with a blue, healing light as he led the captive witch up the slope. “It will be alright. Elora will get us through to the others.” He said and gently touched the girl’s wounded hand.<br/>