It may be a new place, it may not have a war ravaging the countryside like Hellas does, but bandits are still bandits and Kassandra is familiar enough with the sound of a bandit attack to come running. There's something about the jeering. And the shouts for help, of course, but it's the jeering that differentiates bandits from bears, wolves, lynxes, lions, or any of the other myriad threats an unwary wanderer can encounter in the wilderness.

She is aware, as she bursts out into the open to see the bandits and the woman on the horse, that she's outnumbered, but that has never been something that particularly bothers her.

Kassandra draws her bow and aims an arrow straight at the head of the one doing most of the talking.

She may be outnumbered, but she also has their attention.

"I would not try it, if I were you."