Backflash: Yesterday

Ntaj was back on the cart and heading towards the border of the Gorlf territories. As the caravan master told him a few days ago, they didn’t actually intend to go through the territories but take a shortcut near them. That’s where Ntaj and the caravan would part. The ride was thus far largely uneventful, without even a pickpocket or being spotted by wild animals. Sure Ntaj had a few close calls and nightmares, but nothing that would warrant danger to the caravan itself. Even for Ntaj he got over them an hour or so after they had passed. Right now he was reading that book Claire had loaned to him, though at this point he was just casually reading rather than studying.

”Gol-ems. Mag-i-cal con-stre-ucts made of mag-ic.” He read out slowly. At this point he was largely skipping pages and just looking for interesting images of monsters he may one day wish to fight. Dragons were, of course, in the book. They had an entire chapter dedicated to dragons and their subtypes, such as drakes, wyverns, serpents, and the like. Golems were another creature that piqued Ntaj’s interests. Artificial monsters created from just about anything, from dirt, steel, or even corpses. Some were even made of things like slimes or oil. Very strange creatures that made Ntaj shiver a little, since they seemed very similar to elements. At the very least, both proved to be very resistant if not immune to physical attacks. Ntaj purposely avoided the page on elements, and the entire E section of the book all together. He figured he knew enough about elementals to just leave them alone.

As he flipped through the pages he spotted a page that reminded him of home: A page on witches. ”Witches. Magically inclined people who practice dark and profane magics. Witches often refer to female magic users, however they can also be used to refer to males. Males are often called Warlock. Dangerous and wild, witches combined the cunning of humans with the cruelty of demons they often make pacts with. Witches often employ familiars where they gain their magic powers from.” Ntaj smirked at this. How… Inaccurate. Or rather, it was probably too much of a generation. Because he remembered meeting a witch before.

Backflash: Twenty Years Ago

”GREMLIN! GET YE GONE!” Lashing out at the young orcs was a wild-haired, ragged looking wood elf with a whip. Of the orcs, Ntaj was one of them. It was something of a game, a lesson, and a fight for survival. As a totem warrior, Ntaj was sent to the tribe’s shaman to learn the ways of mysticism. And their shaman was this very same wood elf trying to whip them. The reason she was attacking them was a test to see who was worthy of being a Totem Warrior. Also because the young orcs just unknowingly broke into her home, which just looked like a cave.

Ntaj jumped out of the way of a lash, but didn’t quite run away. The others orcs were also standing somewhat close, keeping their distance, but the more cowardly orcs have already fled the cave. This was part of the test, or so Ntaj though. After all if the witch really wanted to get rid of them she would use her magic, not a whip. Not that the whip wasn’t enough; one of the kids were crying on the ground as a whip had lashed him right across the chest, causing a bloody wound to form. Ntaj was fortunate enough to have avoided such a fate, but time would tell how many scars he’d have by the end of this day.

By the time the shaman had grown tired of whipping at the orcs, there was only seven children left. Ntaj sat against a wall, his arms covered in red lashes. A bloody cut was on his back, so bad that blood was pooling around where he sat. Cracking her back, the shaman had tossed her whip at one of the limmp orcish children and started treating the wounded, Ntaj being the third she attended. “Hmph. Just seven? Last time twenty of you stood your ground. Whelps! I’ll have to train each of you harder than the last!”

Back to Backflash: Yesterday

Ntaj poked the scar on his back. His first lash and one of many. The caravan slowed down a little, allowing Ntaj to get out and take the book with him. He went up to the wagon where Claire was staying, who was surprised to see Ntaj over. He handed the book over to the cleric who smiled and thanked him.

“It’s almost time.”

”Oui.”

“I guess this is goodbye.”

”Oui.”

Ntaj and Claire looked at each other awkwardly. They knew very little of each other over the little time they shared together. It was nice, but at the same time forgetful. So Ntaj asked the important question: ”We friends?” Claire sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Hmm… No. I can’t say we’ve known each other long enough that we could call each other friends. Acquaintances perhaps. We’ll both head our separate directions and may never see each other again. We may not even remember one another if we do meet.” Ntaj had a hard time understanding a lot of Claire’s bigger words, but he got the jist of it. It was a bit awkward for Ntaj to expect Claire to to think much of Ntaj in such a short time, more so since he hasn’t really done anything to give him a notable impression. But Claire continued to speak.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t regret meeting you. You are a strange, but nice person. We may never see each other again, but I did enjoy our short time together. Additionally, I know that you will do great things. Your place isn’t here, and I likely won’t be part of it. But you’ll do great things, and if I ever hear about it, I may remember these moments we shared.” More big words to Ntaj, but from Claire’s smile, Ntaj also smiled. Whatever he said he must be happy about it.

”Oui.”

A few hours passed and it was time for Ntaj to leave. There was very little fanfare; the caravan master called out to ntaj to let him know that this was his stop. Gathering all his belongings together, including Honey, Ntaj hopped out of the wagon and waved goodbye to the caravan. A few minutes later and Ntaj was left all alone on the side of the dirt road. He looked into the forest and could practically see the borders into the Gorlf territories. Taking a deep breath Ntaj looked at Honey. ”Let’s go!”

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Location: Storehouse - Gorlf Northern Territory
Interacting With: No one

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Interaction Tags: -

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Valona had been busy writing in her notes and concerning herself with her current situation to really pay attention to anyone that was around. She had no desire to make friends and even less desire to accept anything from these people. She noted the large, muscular and scarred man offering food for everyone but she didn't even acknowledge this. She remained curled into her corner, legs crossed and scribbling away inside her book. Norsa and Ha'des were still bickering inside her head and it took all she had to focus on drowning them out so that she did not weaken mentally and let Norsa take full control. That would not be good for anyone in the general vicinity as Valona could imagine Norsa trying to help start a fire by casting yet another fireball spell within the storehouse. No one would want that.

Sighing quietly to herself, Valona finished up her notes and bound her book back up. She looked around at the rather large group of people she found herself in the company of and she frowned. Why was she here? She had been travelling alone not hours previously and now suddenly she was pulled into a group of people that she did not know, sitting in a damp, muddy storehouse while the elements outside threatened to flood them out. She didn't ask for this and yet, here she was. She questioned why no one was concerned that she had set the storehouse on fire originally. Well, that Norsa had set it on fire, but perhaps Kyra had not told the others this information just yet which, in all honesty, Valona found odd.

Burying her notebook away into her pack again, wrapping it in the waterproof sheets she had for it, Valona set her pack as a pillow and wrapped herself entirely in her cloak. She was not unfurling her bedroll as she knew she would not sleep for long. A nap was what she would have and it would be enough. She did not plan to do magic again for a while if she could help it. That last surge had been far too much to control. She began to drift off into her usual restless sleep.

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Location: Storehouse, Road North of Salarn, Day Three

Interacting With: The Medieval X-Men

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It was still raining outside, but at least he could say that it was raining outside and not on top of him. Food and rest had done well for his morale, and so a more robustly optimistic Keystone rose from his position near the hearth and gave himself a glorious morning stretch.

True sleep was a thing which Keystone avoided recently. Instead, he preferred to take his rest by means of cognitive meditation. It was a practice very foreign to his initial upbringing; likewise to his primary training in the pugilistic arts. The ability to forego sleep by force of will alone yet still recover his vigor was one of the most useful techniques he had acquired during his travels. Keystone often wondered how his people back home would take to his new learning. The few times he had returned in recent years, he hadn't really shared anything with the small handful of people he considered friends.

There was one confidant with whom he would talk, whenever fate allowed for his return to the great, walled city that shaped his early years. Her name was Magdalyn, but everyone just called her Mags. She was a fine lady, so long as the term "Lady" was used with heavy seasoning, and kept up Keystone's house in his absence. Her history was... well, far from praiseworthy, from a legal standpoint. But the massive brawler trusted her, and she had not broken that trust as of yet. Particularly considering her history, it was something near miraculous that their relationship was platonic. Very much like siblings, point of fact. Even so, he had not divulged the extent to his martial studies to her.

Keystone brushed himself off and pulled on his heavy hide coat. It was a marvelous piece of leatherwork, rustic yet refined, segmented armor yet functional clothing. He buckled it on and turned to gather his supplies. The large man was anxious to put some miles behind him.

The pots outside were filled with good, clean rainwater. The weather gave a blessing that way. For the third or fourth time, Keystone poured its contents into the party's waterskins and canteens (the ones that gave him permission, anyway). When everything was topped off, he drank as much as he could and discarded the rest. If they required more, it was still raining. He had his cookware. After a quick and cold breakfast consisting primarily of what they had for supper the previous night, he secured his pack on the wagon and stepped outside. It was time to seek a touch of privacy.

Keystone took a circular path around the storehouse, looking for any signs of unknown guests. While not a tracker, he could spot the obvious, were it present. Satisfied to the extent that his marginal skills allowed, he found a tree to lean against and dropped trou. Facing the tree, he braced against it with one hand and held his coat away from the danger with the other as he cannoned out the forcemeat and roughage that consisted of his diet with a low, foghornesque sound not unlike the death throes of bull moose. Overall, he was dissatisfied with the performance; it was not up to his personal standards of arseblastery, regardless of the nigh mythic properties possessed therein when compared to similar actions of mere mortals. A sigh, shrug, and seven poplar leaves later, he rejoined the group.

Cremwise, amongst others, stared at him with mute disbelief. Apparently ignoring the eyes boring into him, Keystone took the last few swallows of cold tea from the night before, gave his employer a rude, two-fingered gesture, and stood at the ready near the wagon. From his position, he looked at the altered group. They now had three archer women present, one of which with whom he'd been previously acquainted. What the hell was Sana doing here? This was a discussion that had to transpire with a note of privacy. He didn't know whether her (or his) history of realm-hopping was common knowledge.

Instead, he looked to the addition from the previous night. "Ey there, Gretchin. Needin' an assist? You're lookin' a might shaky this mornin'. Mayhap you ought grab some breakfast while it's still un-ate, eh? Bit left by the hearth."

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Sana grumbled as she rolled over onto her back and opened her eyes, rubbing them with the back of her hands to get rid of the sand that had formed in the corner of her eyes over night. Slowly pulling herself up to a sitting position and glancing around. Seemed people were starting to wake up, Kyra of course was already up and looking outside. Sana couldn't remember a single day since she had met Kyra that the elf wannabe hadn't been up before her. Standing up she stretched her arms over her head and stepped over to her old friend who seemed to be lost in thought.

"So, why are you out here anyways?" Sana asked as she leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest and eyeballing her old friend.

"Came to check about the Orc war and see if the Goblins were aiding them in things. Just in case you know," Krya said as she stood there looking as the rain had basically stopped and the clouds were thinning some. It was still gray outside but at least now hopefully things, weather wise, weren't going to get any worse.

"Okay, that makes more sense. You with a caravan isn't something I could normally picture you doing," Sana said with a slightly chuckle which caused Kyra to smirk a bit.

"Nah, the merchant was hiring, figured it was a good enough excuse to get north of the border and such. Been scouting for the most part. Haven't really been with the group unless it was night time. So, want to explain to me now that things have calmed down a bit more on you and Keystone over there?" Kyra asked perking a brow.

"Nothing really too explain. Fog got me, dumped me off in some place called Lore. Really fucked up realm with people that had the biggest ego's I had ever seen. Which is saying something considering how big my own ego is. Keystone was dropped there too it seemed. We kind of ran across each other in a tavern, a few others were there that had had the same issue. We were planning on going elsewhere to see if we could find a way back to our own homes but then there was a hellhound from here that appeared there. Hence the cloak for Keystone. But anyways, before we could leave the fog got me again," Sana explained as she looked out the window and was glad that there was no sign of fog currently.

"Hell of a time. Well glad you are here, could use you in this if you want to stick around," Kyra said as she stepped over and looked out the window with Sana.

"Oh, you are stuck with me for now. Another fog comes I am grabbing you and you're coming with me," Sana said coyly. She wasn't about to be taken away alone, again.

Cyneburg

Location: The house by the road North of Salarn
Interacting with: Eh

Cyneburg blinked a couple times, realizing she was awake. Her body immediately felt stiff since it was leaning on the wall rather than being in any kind of suitable sleeping position on the floor, but that didn't bother her too much. She had sleep like a log and felt markedly better than she had when sleep took her. She could shapeshift again, a feeling that was pretty bomb. Being stuck in humanoid was like not being able to change your clothes. They got really dirty and worn out and there would be nothing you could do about it. The druid stretched her arms out, but winced from sudden pain that struck both her sides. Oh yeah. She was still covered in burns. If whatsherface still wasn't able to heal those up yet, she would need to prepare a salve to deal with them. Cyne blinked again and noticed Kyra and the gypsy having a conversation.

"Good morning." It was proper people etiquette to say such things to people when you first woke up. But then again, this group didn't seem like it adhered to such a thing as manners all that often. Which was convenient, because people etiquette sometimes (oftentimes) slipped her mind. Cyne pushed herself up into a standing with her walking stick/axe and took a peek outside. If her weathersense yesterday was of any indication, it would probably still be raining, but you could never be completely sure unless you looked outside.

Satilla Valen

Satilla had woken up very early even after yesterday’s events. She did go to sleep fast once the shelter of the storehouse was present, but still. Her little kitty, Skittles, woke her up sometime before sunrise. She didn’t really like that too much, but there was no much choice in the matter. Similar to how mages and priests had to prepare their spells each day, the witch herself also had to do it if she was to use any magic. With her eyes slightly closed, she reached out to her bound familiar, the cat also simply relaxed next to her. That was how a witch prepared her spells. The familiar acted as a magic library for their magics and they had to prepare them like this by mentally conversing with the cat as strange as that sounded.

By the time she was done with her preparations, she realized time had rolled by pretty quick. Some of the group had already woken up it seemed. Including the silver haired human, the newly arrived bard, Keystone ( who wasn’t a surprise t oher for some reason.) and Cyneburg also.

“Good morning, everyone.” Satilla also greeted the druid and the others. After that she slowly crawled out of her sleeping bag with a small yawn which she covered with a hand. At that point she realized the druid was still injured with burns!” Hold still for a little, miss. I will heal you right away!” The witch said as she quickly moved over to Cyneburg, before nearly tripping herself at a realization.” If you wish me to that is… I also can prepare some salves if you prefer that.”

Location:The burnt house
Interacting with: Himself

Calanon had slept atop Brogach, the beast's body rising and falling as he breathed, lifting the Elf up and down gently until just before dawn. He had gotten up, and decided to sit against the wall silently, his legs crossed and hands upon his knees, contemplating his and Brogach's next move. He felt it prudent to help out this troop of companions as they made it to the nearest settlement. Their quirky nature was endearing at best, and at worst it didn't bother him.

But what then? Stay with them? He didn't think it would be best, but perhaps circumstances would change that would alter his way of thinking. Generally bad things happened to those around him. His free hand reached over to grip his opposite arm. Or maybe that's the remnants of the curse casting doubts in my mind. He closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath to calm himself. So still was he that he wouldn't be surprised if no one had noticed him up, but it was then that Sana and Kyra had begun talking.

He smiled to himself as he listened. There seemed to be more than a few old friends here who had run into one another once more through happenstance. It was a refreshing thing to witness in these dark times. His Elven eyes opened when he heard Satilla offer to help Cyneburg. He would get up and go help her himself if they needed it.

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Location: Storehouse - Gorlf Northern Territory
Interacting With: No one

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Interaction Tags: -

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It had been a short night for Valona. She had been sleeping, blissfully unaware that anyone was even nearby to her location when suddenly she was awoken by and unearthly, dream shattering roaring bellow that could only have originated from the depths of the belly of one Johnathan Keystone. Valona, however, was unaware of the prolific backend trumpet that travelled along with this particular pugilist. If the sound was not enough to wake Valona from her slumber, then the stench that followed it certainly would have. The entire experience could only have been made more ominous if there were visible clouds that rolled along the floor like a dried ice mist that exuded from the body of frost trolls and white dragons alike.

Sitting up with a start, Valona felt her face wrinkling and contracting in on itself, as if to stop the smell from invading her orifices, but it was to no avail. She couldn't bear it any longer. She had already been questioning her staying with this rag-tag group of do-gooders and she decided it was not for her. At least not full time. Gathering her things quickly, Valona readied herself and slipped out of the storehouse before dashing off into the night. She would find somewhere less... flavoursome to stay for the night. She doubted anyone would notice she was gone, save for perhaps Kyra but even then she knew that no one would miss her. She had not been within the group for long enough and had, so far, caused them more trouble than benefit. Good. She liked to leave people wondering about her anyway, it was in her favour.

Besides, who was to say this was the last time that she and the people from this group encountered one another?

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Her sleep was a bit more restful than she imagined it would be. Perhaps it was the crowd of misfits whom she had smuggled her way into. Maybe there truly was power in numbers. Power for what, she couldn’t exactly say. But once everyone was awake, she knew what would be on their minds. Do I stay, or make my journey on my own?. It wasn’t as if she was headed anywhere in particular. She couldn’t be bothered with planning that far ahead, just as long as it got her far from where she’d come from, as long as they had food to fill her belly, and pleasures to keep her mind preoccupied. She wasn’t quite proud of that last part, and thinking on the members of the new party, they wouldn’t be either … ”Enough about them … why should I care what they think” It was the cowards way out, and she knew it. But to face her own demons, seemed only to be a waste of time, especially when there was breakfast to be had.

She had made her round once around the encampment quite early in the day. No orcs, no hunters or poachers, no guardsmen or assassins from her past. She wasn’t quite sure what would be left of ‘breakfast’ by the time she returned, so had managed to pick some fresh berries and nuts while on patrol. It was a quick enough snack, but also, her hunger pains only caused distraction, and made it hard to focus on any larger game.

Several others of the group started to wake, the storehouse bustling with the noise of others as they moved around, engaging each other while preparing to leave. Her face contorted, and she bit her lower lip as harsh memories flooded her mind. It had been so long since she was ever a part of something, their chatter was a bit unnerving. It would be something she would have to get used to if she were to stay with them.

Her thoughts smashed into bitter pieces as a foreign sound trumpeted not far from the store front. The smell gave its nature away fairly quickly after and she couldn’t help but chortle. What on earth could make a noise like that? Who in this realm could create a stench that bad? Living anyway.

She made her way over to whatever food had been left over from the night before, scooped it into a small bowl and headed back over to the wagon. Greeted by a friendly face, she couldn’t help but chuckle. It occurred to her she knew so little about her new friends, any one of them could’ve left such a foul smelling parting gift. But for some reason, her suspicions rested with Keystone. Perhaps it was the look about him, the rough around the edges, the disregard for the opinions of others, whichever it was, it was endearing, in a strange way.

"Ey there, Gretchin. Needin' an assist? You're lookin' a might shaky this mornin'. Mayhap you ought grab some breakfast while it's still un-ate, eh? Bit left by the hearth."

”Thank you. I intend to do as much.”, she raised her bowl to him and dipped her head. ”And how is your morning thus far? Satisfying?”, she chuckled softly

It had been some time since Ntaj left the caravan. The first night he spent under the comfort of the stars. Having a meal consisting of local fungi and a few wild eggs, That night went by quietly. Not even any nightmares, though no dreams either. The next day had a bit more going on for it. Ntaj had spent the better part of the morning simply traveling, making a point to take the road. Roads lead to civilizations and strangers, and Ntaj was eager to meet others. Sure there was a chance that he’d run into some hostile soldiers, in which he’d handle his own way, but he wasn’t going to let the risk of running into trouble make him avoid potential new friends. But it was when he was off the main road to relieve himself that he met someone.

It was another half-orc. Ntaj could tell because he had features of both an orc and human, most notably green-skin yet no tusks. While Ntaj’s own tusks were small, at least he had some. This half-orc could pass as human if he wasn’t so green. Ntaj found the half-orc taking shelter underneath a tree, as it was raining very hard at the time. Ntaj himself was considering taking shelter, but he had thick boots on and was keeping warm with his pelts. This half-orc however was ill suited for life in the wilds: he had nothing but some ruined clothes, a knife, and some sort of metal rod. When the other half-orc noticed Ntaj he took out his knife to defend himself, while Ntaj simply shifted his stance to have his shield forward.

”Kuv tsis txaus ntshai.”

The other half-orc looked surprised and spoke back in orcish. Ntaj understood his surprise since the other half-orc spoke the same dialect of orcish as Ntaj did. He must have lived near Neverwinter as well.

”Tsis txhob tuaj nyob ze! Kuv yuav txiav koj!”

”Koj yuav tau sim. Tab sis kuv yuav tua koj.”

The half-orc was shaky and gaunt. Ntaj could tell he hasn’t eaten properly in a few days. If Ntaj had to guess, this half-orc must have been a deserter from one of the local armies. Trying to get away from all the fighting, only to be left fighting for his life against the forces of nature. He should have really stayed with his group. Ntaj glared at the half-orc and spoke sternly with him.

”Muab tso tseg riam. Kuv qhia zaub mov.“

The half-orc snarled at Ntaj, but the grumbling from his stomach made the choice clear. Ntaj was full, strong, and had a big sword. This half-orc was starving, sleep deprived, wounded, and the only thing he had going on for him was his kukri. Once more, the half-orc had to sheath his blade and rely on the mercy of others.

”Tsis muaj nyiaj. Yuav tsis tau zaub mov…”

”Hmm. Koj muab kuv rab riam, los yog hlau pas nrig.”

”This?”

The half-orc took out the metal rod in his bandolier. He was surprised that Ntaj knew what it was. He didn’t, but he figured that the half-orc wouldn’t keep it if it was useless. ”Oui. What is it? Yog nws tej yam yees siv?” Ntaj figured that it must be valuable if the half-orc didn’t immediately trade it for food. Surely his life was worth parting with the metal trinket.

”It’s a… There isn’t a word for it in orcish. It’s called a Traveler’s Anytool. This is how you use it.” THe half-orc proceeded to show Ntaj how to use the Traveler’s Anytool into a multitude of forms and shapes. Hammers, blades, spikes, tools, just about anything short of a kitchen sink. But it could turn into a pot or bucket. This certainly interested the woodsman like Ntaj. He often would need a whole other backpack just to have all the tools he’d need on hand. But this little rod was all those tools and some that he’s never seen before. ”Very good. Trade for food.”

Ntaj and the unknown half-orc traded with each other. Ntaj received the Traveler’s Anytool, and in exchange Ntaj gave the hungry stranger some of his food. It was about a day’s worth of rations and his flask of water, which the stranger ate in one sitting. Ntaj could tell the half-orc had been starving. After getting his dishes back Ntaj stood up to leave, stopping only when the half-orc called out to him. ”Koj yuav ncaim? Cia li zoo li ntawd?”

Ntaj turned his head back towards the half-orc. ”Yog. Tsis yog vim li cas nyob twj ywm. Kuv tsis paub qhov twg koj yuav mus, tab sis kuv yuav tsis tso tseg ntawm no.” Like Claire had said, Ntaj’s place wasn’t here. He had only stopped to take a piss, and meeting this stranger wasn’t something that Ntaj intended to spend much time on. The half-orc seemed surprised that Ntaj was just going to leave so quickly, especially during a downpour like this. But he did nothing to stop Ntaj as he continued on his journey.

Aside from that meeting, not much else had happened. Ntaj did run across a few dead orcs, and eventually found a cave. There were remains of a poorly made campfire within, with barely enough wood to make a spark. And what wood was left was so damp it may as well had been mud. If it weren’t for the heavy downpour, Ntaj would have turned around and kept walking. However it was getting late, and there weren’t any trees in the forest tall enough to provide him shelter from the storm and give him enough room to hang his tent. Thusl, this cave would do as camp. Honey, who had been following Ntaj through the brush, entered the cave and shook off the water from his coat. Once Ntaj had explored the cave (There wasn’t much to find except bugs and a dead end), he set up his tent and made a small dinner. Since he gave a good bit of his food to that half-orc, all Ntaj had left was a bag of nuts and dried fruits. Trail mix.

Morning came quickly. Another uneventful night, which suited Ntaj just fine. He hoped that today he would find some good company. In hindsight he should have asked that half-orc to accompany him, but perhaps it was for the best. If he truly was a deserter, Ntaj was certain that he wouldn’t get along with him. Retreating from battle was a smart thing to do, but fleeing from it like a coward was worse than simply dying. Call him traditional, but Ntaj figured that even a half-orc should have some honor.

Dismantling his camp Ntaj looked at his food supplies. He still had an ample amount of trail mix left, as well as spices to liven up his meal. However he made a note that he would need more water as he drank the last in his canteen, and of course he could always go for some extra meat. Feeding some trail mix to Honey, Ntaj walked outside the cave. It was not raining at the moment, however dark clouds still loom above. The rain could return at any time. The ground was thoroughly soaked and even the dirt near the roots of the trees were muddy. Ntaj was fortunate that he had managed to get himself a thick set of dwarven made boots. While he often abstained from clothing as much as possible, footwear was one of the few things he could agree with. He turned to Honey, who was doing his business against the cave wall, and spoke to his partner. ”Let’s go!”

Aftering ensuring that all his belongings, equipment, and other possessions were safely secure and on his person, Ntaj left the cave. He walked for some time before he finally found something that caught his interest; faint tracks. While the rain had washed away most of the trail left behind from yesterday, in certain locations the footprints were deep enough that the storm couldn’t get rid of them entirely. He followed the trail, which eventually lead to two more dead orcs. He would have simply stopped his search there when he spotted more tracks on the other end of the road. Curious and hopeful to meeting new people, Ntaj followed the trail the best he could.

Soon he arrived to the only thing that stuck out in the forest as something man-made and foreign: a building. It was big, old, and slightly worn. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was here for, since Ntaj didn’t notice any roads attached to it. Though considering that he was still trying to familiarize himself to these forests, perhaps he simply missed them. He could hear movement from within even as the rain poured, though he couldn’t make out what anyone was doing or saying. ”Oui. Ntaj wish he found building first.” Uncertain if the building was merely a shelter or someone’s home, he walked up to the entrance and knocked.

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Location: Storehouse, Road North of Salarn, Day Three

Interacting With: Lerraina, Ntaj, Group In General

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”And how is your morning thus far?" greeted Gretchin, apparently suppressing a smirk, "Satisfying?” She chuckled softly. Keystone was mildly amused. On the one hand, he enjoyed speaking with someone that was equal parts sarcasm and levity. On the other hand, having that sarcasm and levity aimed in his general direction must be met in measure. He arched an eyebrow and met Gretchin's gaze, putting a look of concentration across his face. Keystone raised his left fist, letting it hover just below his direct field of vision. He raised his right hand next to it, as if he were holding an imaginary tool of some sort. Regarding his invisible implement with some concern, Keystone inserted it into the side of his balled-up right hand, and began turning it slowly as one might a crank or a wind up automaton gear.

After some three or four turns, the broad man's first two fingers sprung skyward in a manner resembling an insulting gesture, eerily similar in form to the one he had presented Cremwise with earlier. Keystone's look of intense concentration was replaced by mock surprise, fading to a rough smile as he uttered, "Dearie me, m'lady. I'm just as shocked as you." He smiled a bit, somewhat more genuinely than his last expression. "C'mon then. Miles to go yet, if'n you're comin' with."

With his belongings stowed and a meal inside of him, Keystone was ready to hit the road. The difference of rest and improving weather visibly altered his mood for the better, at least enough to pull crude jokes on his traveling companions. Keystone strode toward the door with a lighter step (for him), and reached out to open the storehouse portal when a clear knock sounded from the other side.

Someone was knocking. Fabulous.

Keystone looked back at the others, motioning with one hand to indicate urgency. He didn't have a clue as to who this may be; friend or foe, the true and angry owner of this structure, nasty Orcses, what have you. Considering the nature of the past couple of days, he didn't want the group to be caught flat footed. Keystone could take a hit well and didn't require much in the way of preparation for a fight. If this was an issue, he could buy the rest of them precious seconds by acting as a human bulwark.

With forced informality, Keystone opened the door. His foot was planted firmly behind it, ensuring a high measure of control over how far the door would swing inward. And there he was. The person laying knuckle upon door in an attempt to elicit a meeting between himself and those on the other side. It was yet another Half-Orc. At appearance, he was alone, if mostly naked.

"Well then." he began flatly, "Right sorry there, squire. You're gonna have'ta speak with the Lady of the 'ouse then, yeah?" Keystone leaned his head back just enough to allow for his voice to be more clearly heard on the inside. "Oh, Sweet'ums..." For less that a heartbeat's time, his eyes darted back in Sana's direction, "Gots us a bloke out 'ere by his lonesome, solicitin' buttons at the doorstep."

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Kyra and Sana kept talking among themselves, keeping their voices down as they caught up on what all they had been through recently; or more accurately; what they had been through since the last time they saw each other. Sana having to go into a lot more detail to explain what happened to her than Kyra did. Kyra had never leaned before where Sana had gotten her scars from or why she had suddenly been able to use to her songs with any magic to them. Sana was not to happy to have to relive that and what all that entailed but it was better to get all that out in the open. The orphans, the fights, the burning, the Dark Paladin her and a group had had to fight. It all was a rather trying story to tell and Sana tried to keep it as short as possible but she still was visibly uncomfortable having to think back on it.

Standing there the white hair ranger would nod from time to time and poke her old friend with a question here and there as the others started to get up from their nights rest and taking note that they were one person short from when they had gone to bed. Crazy chic seemed to have exited the scene, stage left even. She wondered why but she didn't let her mind wonder too long. The woman had not made a lick of sense since she ran across her in the road the day before, so whatever her reason to dart off had been she didn't really want to know.

Then there was a knock at the door and the duo perked a brow as they stopped their conversation and looked over at the door while Keystone took it on himself to check it out and see who was on the other side. When he called San "Sweet'ums" Kyra nearly choked as she covered her mouth to keep from laughing; it wasn't because he had called Sana that but the look that quickly spread across Sana's face was priceless. Slack jawed and rendered speechless was an understatement. Sana looked at Keystone like he was as mad as the double talking witch had been before shaking her head and slowly stepping over towards the door. Kyra crossing her arms over her chest as she watched the events unfold.

Peeking around the door and then back over at Keystone before finally answering. "I thought we already had a set of encyclopedia's dear," she said before looking back at the new comer. Another Half-ORC, what was it with Half-Orcs in this area Kyra had to wonder as she stepped over and took a look at who was at the door from her spot behind Keystone.

"I think Lob was wearing more clothing," Kyra noted and it caused Sana's head to snap around and look at Kyra shocked.

"You know Lob? Rub your bone, curl up like a pet Lob?" Sana asked quickly.

"Yeah, saw him in town. Was with us a bit then wandered off," Kyra said shrugging. Sana was going to ask more later but she turned her attention back to the one at the door and Keystone.

"Well, dear, you decide. I'm going to finish getting things ready for the day," she said before turning and walking off, her hand on her body at her back just in case as she stepped back over to the window and peeked outside. It someone was going to attack they would probably do it soon considering how long the door had been open at this point.

Satilla Valen

Satilla nearly jumped out of her skin when a sudden knock on the door happened. Her body visibly jolted for a moment as she went through the stages of complete shock to fear and then surprised worry all in a brief 10 or so seconds as she threw a glance at the person outside the door from what she could see from her angle in relation to the door. She blinked a few times before she completely understood what was outside.

Yet another half-orc. What in the bloody oblivion was with this area. Did Half-orcs grew like mushrooms around these parts…?! It was almost uncanny… almost. Kyra then mentioned something about someone wearing more clothing that the half-orc outside, before she left Keystone to deal with it.

The witch was frankly confused at this situation. Was that another possible new companion? Maybe… maybe not. She shrugged mentally, before she took a breath and turned back to Cyneburg, preparing to cast her heal spell.

Cyneburg

Location: The house by the road North of Salarn
Interacting with: Satilla

Cyne was about to answer Satilla's question when there was a sudden known at the door. Who could it be right here at this time of day? Turns out it was a half orc. That was the... third one she'd seen in 3 days? By Gaia, this was the most number of half orcs she had seen in one area since she was a kid. Any more and she would have to suspect something was up. Was there some kind of half-orc convention here that she was never told about?

Dubious number of half-breeds in the area aside, this newcomer was certainly a drink of water. A mostly naked, very muscular drink at that. He had a lot of weapons on him, so he was probably an adventurer of some kind. That, or this would be the weirdest orc ambush yet. One would think that they would just break the door down or jump through the windows if it was one.

"Oh, yeah, if you could heal these burns it would be great. They certainly didn't make the trip here any better. Maybe next time I shouldn't try going after a spellcaster if I'm in a fight." Cyneburg pulled up her clothing away and to the side, revealing the burns on her torso to the open air, where it would be more easily accessible to Satilla. The sensation caused her to suck in a bit of air, but she managed to keep silent otherwise.

Ntaj just looked at the human who had answered the door. He honestly wasn’t expecting any humans in these lands, knowing that the orcs were at war with one of the local human nations. But this human looked tough; he seemed to be the fighting type, though not a soldier or uniformed merc. He had no visible weapons aside what appeared to be a knife on his belt, Ntaj couldn’t quite see it, as well as hide armor. Well made hide armor, likely better than Ntaj’s own, but if one could afford high quality hide they likely could have brought chainmail. He was most likely a lone sellsword or perhaps a local warrior. Not that Ntaj had a problem with that; didn’t matter to him what your origins were so long as you could hold your own. Whether you’ve earned your skill in battle through necessity or choice were admirable.

That aside, Ntaj had a bit of trouble trying to understand most of what the fighter had said. Something about a lady; his accent and lingo were a bit too advanced for Ntaj’s simple common to translate quickly. He simply stood there patiently as the human left and went to retrieve others. He saw two humans, as well as a few others inside the building, though no one spoke to him directly. One of the women mentioned a word too big for Ntaj to understand, so he assumed they weren’t talking about him. However they started talking about someone named “Lob”, which sounded like an orcish name to Ntaj. But they also said he wandered off, so Ntaj didn’t think he was around. So he stood there awkwardly as if expecting questions, but he supposed he ought to introduce himself first.

Taking a few moments to gather his thoughts as well as to try to formulate proper common, Ntaj greeted then in typical Dark Star fashion: he held both his hands close to the center of his body, his right hand balled into a fist which was then covered with his left. Then be bowed from the waist, making a point to look down at the ground instead of directly at them. It was a sign of trust, and hopefully they wouldn’t use the opportunity to lop off his head. Once he had bowed Ntaj spoke up. ”Hello. N-My. My name is, Ntaj. Please to meet you.” Then he gave them a wide smile, showing off his white orky teeth.

Location:The burnt house
Interacting with: Himself & Everyone else

Calanon smiled to himself as he listened to his new companions conversing and getting along. He'd had friends who would die for him before, and he would do the same for them. But then again he had also seen townsfolk at their wits end ready to teach each other apart in order to escape an indirect and less immediate danger than their fellow man. He frowned as his thoughts drifted to Talem, and having to watch his friend die being under the spell of the curse. He gripped his arm, and the intensity of his gaze directed ahead would have caused some pause if there hadn't been a knock at the door.

He moved as Keystone did, and had an arrow drawn in his Recurve even as the burly man signaled for warning. Calanon's expression changed not at all, from concentration upon his past to concentration on the present. His midnight blue eyes flashed like steel, his fit body ready to loose an arrow at a seconds provocation. Brogach's head has perked up as well, body tensed.

"A half Orc?" he asked softly aloud as the door opened. ”Hello. N-My. My name is, Ntaj. Please to meet you.” the half breed said uneasily. He looked formidable, but acted rather meek. Calanon still held his bow and arrow at the ready, but his expression relaxed somewhat. He'd see how this played out first. His new companions seemed formidable as well, after all. He glanced at them as he waited.

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Another visitor? Another soul added to the ruckus

”Hello. N-My. My name is, Ntaj. Please to meet you.”

Lerraina paused mid breath at the knock. She was just starting to ease up a bit, just to be rattled with the thought of someone here to kill her. She peeked round and peered at the greenskin thoughtfully. She couldn't recall anyone of that color being in the guilds back home. Perhaps it was just her being paranoid. Taking a moment, she lowered her head, her eyes scanning the ground as if the right words were staring her right in the face, yet she couldn't read them. What would Gretchin do?, she pondered.

It was already decided that Gretchin was a bit more extroverted than she normally would've behaved, perhaps a bit of a few things if she played her cards correctly. And so, the game was afoot.

Calanon seemed as vigilant as ever. Which made this the perfect time to test her theory. She cautiously stepped forward, her eyes focusing on the large figure before her. Her bow hung casually at her side and as she came nearer, her steps were gradually relaxed. She reached out a hand "Mine is Gretchin. It is a pleasure

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Location: Storehouse, Road North of Salarn, Day Three

Interacting With: Cremwise, Ntaj, Group In General

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Keystone looked sideways at their new arrival, swinging open the main door to the storehouse. The action revealed the full group, both those being friendly and those readying weapons. It also allowed the group to see him, the newest Half-Orc in a series of several that had graced their path in the past two days. Keystone also noticed the defensive efforts of the archer with whom he had been previously acquainted. Being a frontman is one thing when confronting the unknown; it was usually easier when someone had a projectile backing him up.

He nodded in a manner that vaguely suggested a greeting to the newcomer, then spoke aloud. "You 'eard the lady. Not needin' encyclopedias, neither. Sorry chum. On our way out for the day, we are. Try again, 'nother time."

The massive pugilist looked over to Cremwise, "Cremmy, we look clear on this end, ceptin' this guy. Let's get back to it, eh? And would the last one out be a sweetheart and close up? "

The merchant positioned himself atop his wagon and urged his horses forward. The conveyance lurched forward, slowly emerging from the structure and eventually merging its path with the road, continuing on the the same overland direction they had traveled for the past two days. Keystone stayed near the front, wondering what manner of surprise was in store for them next. At least they were all alive and back on the road. With a little more luck, they would soon be back in a little spot of civilization where he could restock his supplies and truly get some deserved rest. At the present, the order of the day was safety and survival, regardless of who else decided to approach.

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Sana and Kyra both waited for the rest of the group to leave the building before they headed out with Ash padding alongside Kyra and Sana leading Epona by the reins. Once outside the two said a few quiet words to each other before Kyra nodded and headed out in a sprint ahead of the group with Ash and Sana mounted her horse. Moving to a trot until she caught up with Keystone and the rest.

"Kyra is going to scout ahead for half the day, I'll switch off with her midday," she said towards Keystone as they ambled along. Cremwise sat on his place in the wagon and paid no one any nevermind. It had been an adventure to say the least but his merchandise was in tact and everyone was still alive, or at least he figured they were. If anything, there were still enough along with him to help protect the wagon and that was his only concern.

Sana took a deep breath as she glanced around, holding the reins loosely in her hands as she kept an eye out from her position on the back of her horse. "So, how did you manage to get back here from that hell we were stuck in?" she asked rather nonchalantly. For her, it had been as simple and as complicated as how she had ended up there in the first place. The Fog. She was still searching for answers but nothing had been found out so far. All she knew at this point was that she had been able to go longer this time without having to get bipped out of a realm than she could remember from any of the others. Maybe it was over with. If she never got answers but it stopped, she could deal with that.

She thought about what Kyra had told her, about what had happened and why Kyra was out there. It answered the question to why Kyra would bother scouting day after day ahead of everyone. Kyra wasn't one that was normally for scouting, even though she was good at that. Sana was usually left for that. Granted, she had just arrived and Kyra had already spoken about taking advantage of her being there and getting a little bit of a scouting break before the day was over. Maybe she had the questions she had come to answer already answered. Or at least was sure enough to let down her guard some in that department. She would have to ask Kyra more when night time came once again.

Satilla Valen

“Of course, miss Cyneburg. I will heal those right away.” The witch stated, as she slowly and carefully touched the druid’s shoulder, closing her eyes. Sensing the hot muscles and skin underneath her fingers. Those burns, they were in the field of moderate wounds as far as the witch was about to determine. It was going to be bad if she went with light cure and it turned out moderate. Thus she decided to not take chances and go with the medium heal.

Taking a deep breath, she molded her ability and gently let it flow into the wounded woman. Satilla liked healing, it made her feel useful and to an extend safer. People didn’t target healers that often… with notable exceptions of course.

“There, this should be better…” She eventually said, taking a deep breath as she felt a piece of her energy vanish after the use of the spell.” How are you feeling, miss Cyneburg?” She asked, hoping the wounds weren’t worse than she anticipated.

By the time the healing ended, Satilla finally heard the newcomer introduce himself. It was a rather cute way of talking really. It was clear he hadn’t mastered the common tongue, but was still able to talk to an extend at least. For a moment in the witch’s head the new half-orc appeared almost like a child, before she shook those thoughts away. He could still be a danger… and she feared that, so she kept quiet.

When it was decided that they had to now go, the witch took it with almost a relieve. The sooner they got away from the forest and into the safet…. Relative safety of a town, the better! She gave the newcomer a nod, as they passed him and quickly hurried after the vagon, trying to keep near and behind it as best as she could.