Quitxi shrugs to the other two women, redraws and wipes down her blade.  "... let's go."  Keeping the captured brigand close, she checks the door behind them and, if possible, bars it from the inside.<br/><br/><br/>Sidling up to Sophie, the petite thief seems unhindered, but perhaps a little ragged after the battle, but wary of what's to come.  "Three doors in the next room.  One looks like a storeroom."  She stretches her thin, long neck, rubbing it with one leather-gloved hand.  Her copper hair and amber skin show no trace of perspiration despite the dry heat.  "Thought it was a hideout, not a 'base...' this could be a complex.  Sometimes the footpads don't know what the whole show's about."<br/><br/>She checks Sweetwater and Sophie with a pointed glance, then heads for the door behind the bar.  She's not about to try to collect paintings or bottles as scavenged goods... too fragile, too much time to pack them... at least, not just yet.  But she's searching, just in case, for signs of alarms, traps, or correspondence.  She creeps to it and tests it... if it is a storeroom, maybe they can stash the prisoner there... just to prevent him going to find help in the streets.