His night vision was about as good as anyone he had ever met before, but she was well above that, which just made him slightly suspicious, though he refrained from betraying his thoughts. At an hour from the camp, he diverted from the game trails they had been following, and began to slowly make his way to the camp, now focusing on being quiet rather than speed, and began sneaking closer, having requested the elf either wait for the noise to stop, and either withdraw to get more help if he died, or to come in if she thought she could help.<br/><br/>He ditched the pack near where he had been watching the camp for ten minutes or so, not staring at the fire but at the darkness around it, trying to spot the sentries they might have posted, and carried only his heavy duty knife, his bow and quiver, and a couple other items that were stuffed into his pockets, out of the way and arranged to not make noise, using tricks he had learned in the war zones. Done preparing, he stalked toward the nearest enemy he could see, a couple small pellets in his breast pocket. Both of them were full of chemicals, one that caused fires to flare brightly before dying, the other a fire suppressant, allowing him to screw with the bandit's vision. Neither were actually INTENDED for that use, but he had found out about them by accident camping one day, accidentally dumping them into the fire rather than the pot of water he had been boiling, damn near burning himself. Both were meant to purify water, but the fire trick was great for parties.