[center][h1]The Moving[/h1][/center]

The Tengu sat in silence, waiting for the arrival of those he had sent for, those whose hands held the fate of his friend, and in truth, a vital part of the Resistance. There was little chance that the Camp would still be there when they rescued Warlord Hank, due to the proximity of the camp to the forest itself, and the man who fancied himself the leader of the city within. Bastion. The game of military chess had already begun, but the Tengu wasn’t leading the charge himself, no, he had little use for tactics and the like, that was always Hank’s game. Having grew up with the human, who’d been abandoned near the Tengu temple on the southern edge of the island housing Feyerlun. 

The spies of both sides had to have passed along information, making each passing moment a chore, as each person had to stay on alert. When would the invasion come, and who would be doing the invading. Would the meager camp, full of hardened commoners turned solider invade not only the forest and its majestic beauty, but the  well defended city that lay within, or would the full might of Kyut knock down the stone walls and tents that housed the Moving, and take heads on pikes to show their leader? 

A shadowy foot began to step from the darkness of the cave, but a voice caused it to retract itself. The Tengu, if he noticed the limb, didn’t pay it any special attention. Instead, his attention focused on the Elf, of strange hue, whom had entered alone. Did he ditch the man whom had been sent to find him? Interesting. He motioned for the arrival to have a seat across from him, though his eyes returned back to the table. What would he say to these people? Of course, they’d do what he asked, they came from the Resistance to the Apotheoses. All had lost something since their arrival, be it their freedom or family, their livelihood or station. 

Silence would drown them for the next few minutes until the others arrived. One had come from a caravan one of the last that would reach the Resistance, and the other, a big minotaur, wasn’t far behind her. As they arrived, he motioned for them to join the other and waited until they did so.

[color=DarkKhaki][b]“So, you must be the one that was outside the cave,”[/b][/color] he asked, looking at the Elf. His attention turned to the minotaur, and he spoke softly, [color=DarkKhaki][b]“You must have been fashioning the hat.”[/b][/color] He sized the creature up, noting he had seen bigger, but this one seemed to hold a boundless potential for strength. How stereotypical of the simple folk. He turned towards the girl, not exactly knowing she was off the caravan, [color=DarkKhaki][b]“And that leaves you, the flesh worker I would assume?”[/b][/color] 

Not realizing how wrong he was, nor would he be inclined to care, he allowed himself to fall silent for another couple of minutes as he went over the plan in his head one last time. He lifted an empty tankard, noted the lack and filled it with some dwarves wishkey, offering it to each of the arrivals in turn. 

There should be more, he thought, not just the wishkey but more people to accompany this group. Perhaps Werr, Welui, and the other were already out retrieving them. He would wait. Not long, however, because every minute meant that his brother, his friend, could be suffering. 

With sufficient time passed, the Tengu began to explain the plan. They were all chosen because they weren’t known. They held no special rank within the Resistance, they were the everyman, and could essentially blend into a crowd. He turned towards the elf, well, they could for the most part. That strange coloration could prove problematic if Bastion employed a well traveled scholar. 

He shook the thought from his head, and continued to explain. Warlord Hank, his brother and friend, had been captured two years prior. It ignited a fire within the Tengu who, during his time in the hook, assaulted enough of the Apotheoses camps to force them to move him - here. Perhaps this wasn’t the best place for it, especially with the impending collision coming. Their job, the ones before him now, would be to become Apotheoses members in a concerted effort to free Hank, and take him across to another town for a debriefing. 

They could decline the offer, as was their right, but would they have really come all this way just to say no? They were picked because of their respective skills, as well as their aforementioned lack of notoriety. 

As he finished explaining, the Tengu, now on his third cup of Wishkey, looked over each of the gathered individuals. Would this be the last time he saw them? Perhaps. But it didn’t matter, they were expendable. Hank wasn’t. 

[color=DarkKhaki][b]“So, what shall it be? Enter into the forest and rescue the Warlord, or turn back and fight in the Moving’s eventual battle with Kyut. Either way, you’ll be pitted against a war leader so competent that only two people in the area could possibly match him. The Old Man, and the Warlord, Hank.”[/b][/color] He hated sounding so defeated, so hopeless, but that was the truth of it.  His personality had changed a great deal since Hank’s capture, given the two were considered the more playful of the Warlord’s. 

[u][i][b]Summary:[/b][/i][/u] The Tengu explains the mission parameters and offers them a chance to turn it down. Beforehand, a mysterious figure attempted to enter but retreated.