The tent comes closer. This is very easy, so far. It shouldn't be. Or maybe it should - he knows how it is, that time before a battle. More so the more people are involved in it. Still, it's strange, having spent so much time in being so careful, and now this.

Roland glances at Firo a moment, then nods, his eyes turning again to what's ahead of him. Either Firo can carry through on that promise, or he can't. There's no pushing him on it now.

"The guards are spreading out. I see a few. They'll want to protect this place at all costs. If you see a place that's hidden, push me toward it. Some cave maybe, or a convenient rock."

Then the tent is here, and a man is bustling out of it. He does not look particularly like a man planning on killing however many people are living in the rebel camp below. He does not look particularly anything, except busy. He's carrying a couple large cases, struggling with them.

"Oh! Hello! A pleasure to meet you both, I'm sure." One case starts to slip and the munitions man struggles to hitch it up a little more, then looks back up between them. "The peacekeepers sent you, did they? What is it they want now? Honestly, it's like I'm the only one here who remembers we're on a schedule. Sorry, don't think I caught your names?"