"Great!" Owain grinned. It wasn't often that he got to take part in ambushes. His comrades were always against bringing him along, for some reason. "I am a champion of the element of surprise, a veritable master of stealth," he declared. Loudly. "I shall strike like the viper and fade like a sigh on the wind! Let this henceforth be known as Operation Fangclaw Dragonflame!"

...Thank goodness for strong desert winds whistling through the rocks, or no doubt the sentry would have heard him by now, drunk or no.

The brigands were drawing close enough now to discern their number; only about ten of them, but that didn't mean there weren't more hanging around nearby. Owain gripped the hilt of his sword eagerly, looking as though he was barely restraining himself from leaping out from his hiding place and into battle right then and there.

"So, O wise and insightful tactician, when and where shall we strike first? ...I call dibs on that big ugly one."