[b][center][color=#17c311][h3][i]Cyneburg[/i][/h3][/color]
[color=#17c311]Location: [/color]The campsite
[color=#17c311]Interacting with: [/color]Keystone, Kyra[/center][/b]

There was a lot of information to process quickly here, some good, a lot less so. First it was that nobody seemed to mind her mixed heritage, which was a relief, if one that she had half-expected given Lob's previous presence. Still, not everyone everywhere was so accepting, so she would have to pick up a new veil or fashion a new one out of some improvised material. She'd been wearing that opaque piece of cloth for so long that it felt off to not have it anymore. That was about the extent of good news.

Although Cyneburg liked people and enjoyed seeing them succeed, she had to keep herself detached from them and recognize that people having to die in war was something that had to necessarily happen to keep the balance in check. It was a tough fact to have to accept, but Kyra killing the orc who had just surrendered and any remaining survivors didn't sit well with her, especially as to what set her off on this in the first place. Maybe the humans actually [i]had[/i] started this whole affair and Kyra was in on it. Perhaps her first instincts about these people were wrong. She'd have to be careful around them.

What sat worse was the news of undead. War and death were part of the cycle, but Undeath sure wasn't. This was almost certainly a sign of bigger, more dangerous things at work. In any case, she would have to step in and deal with these undead. If it turned out to be something she couldn't handle alone she'd have to contact the Organization about it.

Around now Cyneburg realized she had been standing in one spot for a couple minutes staring at nothing. It seemed like everyone was stating if they were ready to leave.

[color=#17c311]"Oh, um. I'm good to go."[/color] Cyneburg still carried everything on her, so it's not like she had to do a lot of preparation in the first place. And there was that same flute again. At least it wasn't trying to falsely imitated birds anymore. Maybe it was a signal played by a scout relaying a message to other orcs in the distance. Fuck.