"There's a story to tell," you start, eyes fixed on the chief, but your mind on the figure moving stealthily among the birch trees. "The Labyrinth was... challenging. We faced many trials, and not all of us made it out. The boat... it didn't survive either."
The chief looks at you, interest piqued. "What happened to it?"
You hesitate, gauging the tension in the air. "It was destroyed," you say finally, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Destroyed in our battle against Gisla's brother."
A gasp goes around the campfire. They're hanging on your every word now, their chores forgotten. You continue to weave your tale, speaking of the trials and tribulations you faced in the Labyrinth, your words painting a vivid picture of the perilous journey.
All the while, your eyes never leave the figure in the trees. Melaxu. She's getting closer, and you need to keep the bandits distracted just a little bit longer. For her sake, and for the sake of your mission.