A fellow brigand, Andrus, had awoken Beran with a message that the column had been spotted approaching the spot where they had set the ambush. Beran got up and was rushing to put on his gear, carefully sheathing his knife on one side of his belt and a sword on the other. They would be at the spot where they would be swarmed in about fifteen minutes and now there was only five left as Beran scrambled out of his command tent. Quickly organizing the rest of the group he had them ready for the signal. "Hopefully the other camp is just as ready" he thought as a scout blew his horn to announce the charge of his camp.

As they ran to the road he saw one of his comrades, Jemrik their own camp's archer, go down from an arrow that pinned him to a tree. Beran shouted out "Why are they ready this fast? Get that archer, the rest can't be that prepared!" Another nearby thief, Beran recognized him as the one who had woke him up, nodded and Beran watched him run onto the road, to be met with a man in full armour with a flowing cape bringing down his sword. Andrus barely managed to dodge out of the way and then the rest of Beran's group flooded out onto the road. Combat had begun.

"Where are the others? Captain Beran where are they?" Beran heard a panicked voice coming from a young boy fighting a deadly looking woman with an enormous sword. He had been recently "recruited" by his comrades when they had assaulted a merchant's caravan six months back. The boy was a sellsword, obviously looking to make his fortune in the world. Beran offered him the choice to die or live and work for him. The boy had rather enthusiastically chosen life. He heard a sick sound as the boy was run through by the woman, who was already moving to engage another one of his men. "Too bad his choice only gave him a postponement of his early grave." Beran muttered as he moved into the fight, both sword and knife drawn.

"They should be here! By Saint Ajora! Do not count on their help, fight carefully these people have somehow managed to keep them." The man in the cape approached him as soon as he said that and Beran had no more time to talk or even glance to see how his men were faring. The man fought how he imagined a demon might; his every blow was fierce as the avalanches of Germinas and just as fast. It took all he could to defend himself and he was incredibly relieved when he departed from combat to aid a red-haired youth with a spear, who was outnumbered by Beran's men four to one. Beran went after the one who would gain him the ten-thousand bounty, he could see the command in his eyes as the youth protected the archer who had shot down one of his men and another had an arrow bristling out of shoulder. Another boy, with a flail belted at his waist and nondescript brown hair stabbed the already wounded man through the chest.

Beran was losing, and he knew it. Something had to happen to change the tide. He had lost three of his group of eleven already and the others did not even look wounded. His black mage shouted out a high pitched chant as he cast a fire spell on the one with the flail belted at his waist. It seemed to have next to no affect as the young man almost shrugged it off.

"He should have used a Blizzard." He snorted as he ran up to the boy with the bounty, "Using fire in a rainstorm. Idiot." Beran swung at the boy, who deftly parried his sword slash but caught the dagger's bite with his shield arm. "He has no experience fighting against a foe with two weapons!" Beran thought as he smiled. Nearby him the demon in the cloak had slain three of the four who had been outnumbering the spearman. The last was lying on the ground, a barbed spear lodged in his chest. His mage had gotten somewhat more intelligent and was casting ice and lighting spells against the flail-wielder but still to little avail it seemed. The man with the flail looked a little scarred and his left arm had some minor cuts in it but these did not prevent the man from running him through. As he idly wondered what had made the man able to shrug off such magic attacks, Beran swung out again at the youth in front of him who managed to parry both blows of his this time and returned with a slash that Beran caught with his right blade above his head.

Andrus, Hans, and Derk were the only ones other than him left. Only one of theirs was even seriously wounded, and the swordswoman was drinking a potion that knit the flesh of a badly bleeding thigh wound. The potion had been tossed to her by an unseen person from the bushes. He shouted in alarm at the fact that they must have a chemist hiding that he had not even seen. He heard a gunshot as well but it did not seem to have hit anyone that was left. He gritted his teeth and thought about next time, if there was a next time, the white mage would be in his camp. These young knights had obviously killed the other group before this fight, Beran had bet everything on them not being able to find either camp, but it appeared they had found both.

That was it. He called the retreat, attempting to save the little that remained, and yelled "Fall back! Run!" An arrow caught Hans in the back as he turned around to locate the shout. Andrus and Derk were sprinting to his location as he was running back to the bushes himself. He was caught by the demon in the cape and the swordswoman and yelled out as he knew he had already lost "Andrus with me on this one he's dangerous. Derk take the other and run at any opportunity."

He became lost in the battle against the cape as he and Andrus flew at him with the desperation of dying men. He parried every stroke save one from Andrus that only caused a dent in his breastplate. His return attack was brutal, and rent his armour, shattering into pieces. He fought on as Andrus again managed a strike, this one striking deep into the demon's shield arm. Derk was having no avail against the swordswoman, who had utterly destroyed his buckler underneath her repeated strikes. Derk had always been a poor swordsman.

This was going nowhere and the others of the group were almost in distance to aid their friends. He cursed whatever had kept the second group out of the fighting and yelled to his two remaining companions, some of the youngest among their band "Run I'll hold them back, we don't need to lose everyone. Get word to whoever sent the message that we have failed."

Beran turned to the swordswoman who had Derk at a major disadvantage and struck at her, allowing Derk to run after Andrus. She had the same weakness as the leader had, no skill at fighting against someone with two weapons, so his dagger caught her arm the same way it had the boy. The demon struck him with a slash across the back that he felt spurt blood. As he turned to face him he struck again, running him through his shoulder. Beran shrugged back to lock the sword in his flesh and smiled. His opponent was now weaponless, leaving him with an opening for a great strike, a bone-crushing one. As he swung his sword around, his last effort, the demon in the cape had an answer the way he had expected, parrying the sword with his free shield, leaving him open to a disembowling strike. He smiled as he swung and, feeling a sudden resistance, he looked down with his last breath. The demon had released the sword and caught his blow with his hand. He had to be a demon, only demons could do such a thing! He closed his eyes, his last sight was the demon almost... smiling, as Beran toppled to the ground, ramming the sword in his shoulder further through him.

Mirhalim had just managed to get to Syrento as he dealt the fatal blow to the man. He watched as Syrento pulled his sword free from his shoulder with a grating tug. Syrento then faced the man right side up and called Mirhalim over to help him move his body over to the bank beside the road.

"He fought hard. Oddly, he seemed almost noble as he sacrificed himself to let those two escape. Strange to think of honour in one who waylays travellers. He almost caught me with that strike of his with that knife. Could have been deadly."

"Sure looked that way. I would have hated to fight him myself if you said he was a challenge." Mirhalim pulled his hands up behind his head. "However you are right, I would not have expected honour amongst bandits. Perhaps he had a reason to put himself in this situation but sadly it put us at odds against him." Mirhalim responded, letting the bandit's legs drop as Syrento folded the bandit's arms on his chest.

Ciel came running back with news that she had not been able to catch either of the runaways as they seemed to disappear into Grogh. Pathways through it only known to bandits she had said, spitting on the ground after. Rior and Navar followed shortly behind her, herding their chocobos.

After getting their chocobo Syrento asked Ciel to conflagrate the corpses of the bandits since they could not bury them, nor leave them behind. After a few mild objections she burnt them and all of them were already riding into the main part of the Grogh hills before the smoke even began to rise.