The man crouched as he walked up a grassy hill toward his group. The wound where the witch had stabbed him, bled endlessly and he only had his mask to cover it. His leader would be angry he did not retrieve the girl. The girl was tough. And wherever did she get a dagger like that? His group waited for him and so did his leader.
His leader's name was Campion. He had a young face, and was in his mid-thirties with dark eyes and a long scar along his cheekbone. Campion stood tall with his arms crossed waiting impatiently. The man, Lizar, was face to face with him.
"Sire, she escaped."
"Escaped? How?!" he yelled.
"S-s- she had a dagger and stabbed me." Lizar showed him his arm. Campion rolled his eyes and walked away. Lizar heard him say,
"I'll make sure she does get captured.” Lizar followed him and Campion turned to him.
“We’ll try again and this time we will get the girl and the map. Let’s go round everyone up,” he said. Lizar nodded.