Roland of Gilead paused for a moment to contemplate the newcomer's question. Did he remember how he got here? The entire introduction of the setting seemed a little rushed, and most of his attention was focused on self preservation during the first few moments. Roland took a moment to collect his thoughts and really think about his forced transportation into this world. After a brief collection of seconds, he let out a sigh. 

"I don't recall how I got here. The final moments that I was conscious in the last world are the last moments I remember before waking up here." Roland explained to York being careful not to reveal any sensitive information about his quest in mid-world; he could not know whether this entire situation was an illusion set up by the man in black, or worse...the Crimson King. He would glance back over his shoulder once more to assess where the armor clad knight and the fool with a sword equal to his torso were doing. 

The pair appeared to be exchanging tense words, as an ominous glowing cannon remained pointed in the face of the dark haired man. Roland could not hear what they were saying despite his sharp senses, but whatever it was it was not reaching any conclusion. All of a sudden a bright flash emanated throughout the landscape from what seemed like a quarter of a mile southeast of his and York's position. Roland had to make a decision. Was the spaceship and potential adversaries over in this area a more important place to observe than the seemingly godly illumination to the south? A fire burned in his belly saying no. 'Must be Ka' Roland thought to himself. 

Roland shifted his blaze blue eyes over to the man in the suit he had just met. The same fire in his belly that told him to move towards the light told him that this man was here to help him in this diversion of a quest. A temporary ka-tet beginning to form? Roland knew not what tricks it played with him this day. Scoffing and finally making a decision, the cowboy addressed York. "We should head over there. Whatever these two are doing, I believe we best leave it up to them." He paused for a minute and extended his hand outwards towards the slick looking York. "My name is Roland of Gilead, last of the line of eld and their gunslingers." The words he barely ever had the opportunity to say anymore reverberated through the air. A small aura of darkness could always be felt when he said them.  

Once the greeting was over, Roland would begin a low jog away from the bush southwards towards the light. He assumed York would follow closely. 

[@BringBack1996]