The chilly desert winds during the nighttime woke Naz up from her unconscious state.
She was surprised to see that her her hands were strapped with a silver black rope while her feet tingled with the desert sand.
"We're restrained by mana ropes," She thought."Where are we?" said a voice, few meters away from her.
"Shush! Urluck. We fell into a trap, "she whispered. "They had water, anyone would fall for it after crossing the desert for three days," Eiggeira refuted, "But I wonder why she did that?"
"It's because she's a sour hand," Naz answered.
"Great, first we lost our way and now we're about to be made sacrifices in exchange for power due to the crazy beliefs of a few dolts and mad orcs," Bickernash complained.
"I have to agree with you," Naz nodded. Urluck revealed a grin, "Not all hope is lost, we can still escape"
"The tight rope? It's fused with mana!'' Bickernash scolded. "As usual, the only purpose of your mouth is to be ran at all times" said Naz.