Mrow?
Mowwww.
Maooooooo.
Meow, Meow!
An Annoyance.

Somehow even in his isolation, though not a bastion of frozen crystals, this thing has breached his mental fortitude and recalled him from his cosmic enlightenment. Ears could no longer bear the incessant cat calls, nor could the flesh ignore the weight of the furry creature sitting on his lap. Eyes cracked open, breaking apart hastily as the pallor of topaz stared into the cat's own. A twisting grimace curled his lips and furrowed into his brow, disgust crossed itself with fury breeding forth contempt. Yet as his hands reached out to grab the little devil by the neck and wrangle it, the faster Skittles reacted in time to leap off and start dashing away from the enraged mage.

Had Thomas been in any state but this one, he may have shouted after the fleeing familiar, but Star Phase was all the wiser to know it would neither listen nor reply back. As such there was little interest in speaking rather than chasing, as his mortal coil could carry his stellar soul. Chasing to chastise the cat, yet it took a dash straight towards its owner, into the campfire of the others, to which the scents of the meal before them allured the feeble needs of the body. Hunger, thirst, desire, all three cardinal sins for the stoic stars, but perhaps even they in their cold uncaring way, longed for something more than just being. Perhaps just like how they wished their brother back, they too sought unity. For in the vastness of space, solitude is forever.

"Your accursed feline accomplice has disturbed my concentration." A voice and lexicon far from his previous tone with Satilla. Strange, although perhaps she would notice the subtle changes in both his temperament and personality. From the shy uncertain boy, to the cold and arrogant scholar. It was an affect of his phases, changing the mercurial moods, ever shifting as the moon, and twinkling as the stars. Yet perhaps he would do well to return to the Sun Phase, his preferred state for he was far more like the old down-to-earth farmboy he was. "It is difficult to focus on the heavens with such infernal racket."

And perhaps now would be a good time to help prepare a meal? Although Thomas was fairly certain he'd stick to the veggies.

Ntaj just about to go about plucking a fowl when Keystone came over and started telling him something. Ntaj had no idea what he said, but he could tell from the tone that Keystone was displeased. Was it because Ntaj was going to try and help with the food? Was it because he didn’t wash his hands? Was it because he was mostly naked? Usually it was that. Ntaj’s habit of being mostly nude was very unusual, even back at Dark Star. He only got away with it back then because he was a prince, and no one except his mother would dare tell him to cloth himself.

”Okay.”

Turning away from the cooking, Ntaj wasn’t sure what else he could do. He lacked the money and resources to make the camp any more comfortable than he already did. Perhaps he could strike a deal with the orcs to trade for their furs? Though he doubts Ntaj had anything they’d want. He did have a few useful potions, and that traveler’s anytool, but the former he wasn’t sure if the orcs and the latter Ntaj had no interest in trading away. Keystone mentioned something about wood, to which Ntaj figured he meant to get more firewood. Without Cremwise’s cart, the most ready source of dry firewood would likely be from the orcs. It had rained quite hard here not too long ago, and the day was still too young to have dried any logs on the ground. Still, romping through the forest wouldn’t be the worse way to pass the time.

Ntaj returned to his things and geared up, grabbing only his armor and weapons. As he was suiting up, he took out the Traveler’s Anytool and started messing with it. ”Hmm… This… This… And… Here.” Ntaj looked at his creation: some sort of iron horn. He gave it a quiet toot, and even then it made a fairly loud noise. Now if ntaj found any danger, like dire bears, elementals, undead, or gnomes, he could properly alert the camp. Now there was only one more thing he needed: A partner. Ntaj had been traveling long enough to know that it was dangerous to go alone. Normally he had Honey watching his back, and while Honey wasn’t realistically the most threatening creature ever, he did have a sharp nose and often found enemies long before Ntaj would. But with honey sent out on a hunt, Ntaj looked around the group for someone to help him gather firewood. That’s when he noticed Cyneburg head into the brush and decided to follow after her. ”Cyneburg! No go alone!”

Ntaj followed Cyneburg into the brush with the intent to ask her to help gather firewood, and watch their backs. Plus, if Ntaj’s weird dream from before was more prophetic than he realized, he could use Cyneburg’s help with dealing with that giant toad monster and other forest monstrosities. Undead weren’t the only abominations in this world, after all.

Satilla Valen

The meat preparation was going along rather nicely. Satilla was even surprised how well she handled preparing the hunted animals. The activity of dealing with skinning, gutting and separating the meat from the carcasses seemed to have been engraved into her as a habit, after all the cooking she used to do as a child. She was still just glad to be able to help with this. After all those people aided her when she was lost and now she felt she must earn her meal.

Among the preparation and the scent of cooking that Keystone was doing, Satilla noticed something rather unusual. Her cat skittles seemed to have positioned himself comfortably into the meditating Thomas and meow and pester him to the point he left said meditating state!

“Yes, I noticed…” The witch replied to Thomas as he came over to complain about her cat. Satilla was rather surprised at his change in demeanor, but she had heard something or rather about Sorcerers. Now she knew it wasn’t just a rumor it seemed.” It is rather surprising, Skittles usually doesn’t annoying people. He must have really taken a liking to you to do that, Thomas.” Satilla replied, studying him quickly.

“Are you feeling better now?” She asked, curious at both his change in demeanor and if his body has started to calm down after forcing himself into whatever mess he was earlier.” You still chewing on those leaves?”

---

---

Krya glanced up from her work as she noticed some people were wandering off. Why wait until now she had to wonder to herself. She never understood people that waited until the last moment to get something done, it was rather inefficient. Things like firewood and water should have been gathered while her and the other two were inside dealing with the Chief, not held until the last minute right before dark when there was undead that had been attacking. Granted the fact that some had eaten while others had not and no one seemed interested in any else's true survival until others started making an effort drove an annoying prick into the back of Krya's mind. She couldn't general laziness or even the appearance of such.

"I'm surrounded by morons...." she muttered under her breath as she yanked the skin clean off another fluffy bunny. Sana cocked a brow as she glanced over to her old childhood friend at her words and took note of the look on her face. She knew that look all too well. It didn't bother Sana as much, as far as she was concerned if people didn't help they wouldn't eat, other than that she didn't give too hoots but she knew her old friend and Kyra expected a lot more from people than they probably expected from themselves. Shaking her head she decided it was best to not even broach the subject anyways. If Kyra blew up, it would make for an entertaining show to go with dinner.

Standing up she gave a quick thanks to those that did help with the meat preparation as she gathered it up and headed over to Keystone with it. She doubted anyone looking for water would have a big issue because of all the rain as of late but she would have been wrong. The water source for the camp was in the cave and no one that wasn't part of the tribe was being let in now that the meeting was over. Next water source, a mile north. Dry firewood would of course be another issue, best hope was probably drying some out once it was gathered.

Setting down the prepped meats next to Keystone's little work area she cleaned her hands off on a spare linen. "Know it is a lot but didn't know if we would get a chance to hunt again tomorrow or how bad the night would go. Figured it was best to stock up and dry some of this stuff out overnight for meals tomorrow," she said as she winds picked up a little bit and a chill ran through the air. Pulling her cloak closed she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "It's going to be a long night."

---

---

Location: Woods North of Salarn, Orc Encampment, Evening of Day Three

Interacting With: The Group

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---

The campsite was soon awash with the sights and smells of a proper meal tooled together by expert hands, the light clinking and scraping sounds of utensils on cooking wares accompanying an occasional nod or grunt of affirmation from Keystone. Those few who chipped in (that he didn't object to) were invited to stick around the fire to give the occasional stir or scrap of conversation. The large man's armored leather coat was folded and set atop the section of log he was using as a seat. In its place on Keystone's torso hung a tool-bearing apron of canvas and leather.

To better facilitate speed and ease of cooking, Keystone had pushed the sleeves of his long, woolen shirt over his elbows and removed the pair of fingerless gloves that seemed ever-present. A set of richly engraved bracers gleamed dully in the firelight, now fully visible for the first time to the company assembled. Dwarfcraft, for anyone with an eye for it, but obviously sized to fit a Human. While the unburdening of his limbs helped in his endeavors, it had the effect of revealing a roadmap of old, extensive scarring. In places, it was quite disturbing. He didn't seem to mind, though, as his dedicated work to the task before him saw those time-again damaged and healed hands flowing between wooden spoons, a flat spatula, and his favored knife. In short order, a meal came together.

He was not in high spirits. Not particularly. He conversed, made tiny cooking requests of those who chose to stick around the fire with him, and answered any mundane questions put to him simply and directly. It seemed as if he were waiting on something, and not just the food to be ready. Sure enough, the inevitable did occur, and their supper was ready. Stewed Rabbit with edible greens and caramelized onion, pan roasted Pheasant (or whatever the hell bird they were, they were at least prepared as Pheasant) with root vegetables, and a short pan of a strange, white grain that many of occidental origin would have been sadly unaware. It was cooked simply and appeared very fluffy and starchy. Keystone insisted upon it to round out their meal, placing a portion of it into every bowl as he passed them around for his group.

Addressing Sana's suggestion to dry meat for the next day, Keystone responded, "Weather's against us on that, Miss Sana. 'Sides, it'd take more hours'n we got. I'm Low n' Slow-in' the foxes a while, maybe good by morning, if that helps. It's gettin' cold out o' doors, so we should be tops for the meats to hold through at least tomorrow. Throw more heat under 'em before we set to gnawin' on it, anyhow."

Keystone made sure all parties appropriate got a decent portion of food before acting on his own impulses to gorge himself. Even before that, he recovered his coat and gloves. The weather was getting cold, and he suspected it may be a long night. He got a plate together for himself and set it to the side. There were a few items of cleanup he wished to attend to, not the least of which being his large covered cast-iron pan. With the largest amount of the sanitation done, he finally got around to his own supper. Turns out, he was hungry.

Between mouthfuls of neeps and birdie of which he was in mid-attack, he managed to eventually vocalize, "So, Chiefy's got some terms..." He did not expect this to be well received, even as he explained the situation. It was hoped that a full stomach would soften the impact.

Cyneburg

Location: The Woods Nearby the Makeshift Camp
Interacting with: Ntaj

Cyneburg strolled through the dense underbrush of the woods as if the plants and mud weren't even there.The she walked, the forest might as well have been a newly paved road. If Ntaj had had worse vision in low light situations and had he not gone after the druid so quickly, he probably would have lost track of her quickly. When she heard the other half orc tramping through the forests after her, her pace slowed down almost to a halt, allowing him to quickly catch up before her pace picked up to a more "normal" speed. She walked ahead of him, but only just.

"Iist bolkum ghûlum." I don't need help, you know. Cyne said over her shoulder to Ntaj. She kept her eyes scanning the ground for dry wood and such and her ears focused on listening to the surrounding area for other people/animals/undead creatures. All the wood so far had been soaked through just like she had expected.

"This is where I'm most comfortable. Thrang paash bhadûr horn-ishu. I'll be fine." Also, I can transform into animals. Well right now she could only turn into one kind of animal, but that would suffice for the time being. However, it was quickly starting to reach sundown. She'd need to turn around soon.

"Tsis muaj tsis ntseeg. Kuv qhia rau koj tom hav zoov txaus ntshai." Ntaj said, somewhat quietly as he caught up to her. He only spoke quietly because they were in the woods now, and while camp wasn't too far away, they didn't need to go too deep to run into trouble. Of all the things Ntaj had faced ever since he left home, most came from nature. Wild animals, fey creatures, poisons, the weather. Many may have tales of monsters like ogres or dragons that capture the hearts and minds of others when they think danger, but that didn't make the more mundane things any less dangerous. Cyneburg should know, being a druid; she weaponizes those mundane natural things. "Tsis ntseeg peb nrhiav taws. Good one."

In hindsight, Ntaj was only slowly starting to realize that maybe he wasn't quiet as wanted as he originally remembered. It was a fair enough assessment he supposed; he was, after all, a stranger to this group. And a half-orc at that; despite what some enlighten people may say, racism is simply something everyone does instinctively, like eating their favorite foods or avoiding dangerous things. And it doesn't help that Ntaj is both unusual and stereotypical of an orc; his nudity and overall friendliness might be off-putting for the more cynical, while his loose grasp of common and martial equipment gave the usual orcish impression of low intelligence and high aggression. But now Ntaj felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place; the easiest option for him would simply be to leave. They didn't want him, and Ntaj couldn't say he had much investment with them. However he felt this was the cowards way out. They haven't really done anything to force him to leave, and he hasn't really done anything to make them want him around.

Slapping his face lightly Ntaj put these complicated thoughts aside. "It's not that bad you know. They just need to get to know you better. Go find that firewood like Keystone asked; maybe he'll be more impressed with you if you actually find some in this damp forest." Of course, each step was a tell-tale sign that this would be a difficult challenge. The rain yesterday was heavy enough that it was probably what knocked him off that bridge before, so he doubts there'd be any dry wood on the ground. If he was lucky, there may be a few dead branches that had been protected by low canopies or stuck within other branches he could grab. Worse case scenario, Ntaj would have to cut down a few thinner branches or saplings and dry them by a fire.

Looking around, Ntaj wondered if he could find more... Caves. He shuddered at the thought. He didn't like being underground. But if looking for firewood wasn't going to work, then perhaps he could find coal instead. Coal was one of the biggest imports of Dark Star (Hence the name; it had both meteorite iron and much, much more coal) and more useful then firewood. It burned just as good and it was easier to dry out. Ntaj would have brought coal with him instead of firewood if it wasn't for the fact that coal is fairly brittle and might break during his tumbles. Of course, Dark Star was a special place, and Ntaj couldn't be certain if this place was anything remotely similar. But at least if it was here, Ntaj would find it.

With a goal in mind Ntaj started to walk away from Cyneburg. If she wanted to be alone then Ntaj wouldn't force her company. He was a bit disappointed, but it was her choice. "Ntaj go find firewood. Or coal. Hear horn, Ntaj in trouble." First Ntaj was going to try and find some drywood. He'd looked carefully on the ground, but not for firewood, but for an incline. Rain would fall down a slope and soak wood on the way while wood at the bottom of a hill would be in a pool of water. Thus he needed to find the top of an incline and see if any of the trees at the top had dry wood. Failing that, at least if he is high up he'll be able to get a better vantage point to find caves or some such. He didn't want to go too far from the camp of course, since even his horn won't be able to alert them if he fell into another ravine or was eaten alive. But Ntaj felt like he couldn't go back until he could bring back something burnable.

Satilla Valen

Satilla was rather surprised at herself and the rest as the meat was rapidly prepared and eventually finished. She was even more glad when Keystone declared cooking was done and over with. Now it was the time to have a quick dinner. She smiled as food was being divided across the group. She had a decent meal in her hands now, but she couldn't exactly eat that much. She ate little, but then again she wasn't really the biggest person out there.

Once she bit into the meat, she couldn't believe how tasty it was! Keystone was a great cook! So great that in fact Satilla couldn't believe it. She was almost willing to check it to the fact she helped prepare the meat and they were rather hungry for the entire day, but eventually decided that indeed Keystone was the main reason for the great taste.

“What sort of terms?” The witch asked when the chef informed them a little of what went down inside the cave.” Anything we need to be too concerned about?”

Location:Beside the Cave, The River
Interacting with: Gretchin

Before dinner was quite ready, Calanon had done his best to procure people's waterskins, and mounted Brogach, holding his hand out for Gretchin to join him. They'd need to make a bit of haste to grab the water in time for everyone. Once they were both ready, Brogach bounded away into the brush. The forest was damp all around them, water droplets falling atop Calanon (the elf expected Gretchin to be similarly soaked) even with their quick movements through the forest.

Once he reached the river, he took out as many of the skins as he had and filled them up as best as he could. He had seen no Undead as of yet, but he knew that they gave little sign of their approach or passing, other than the twig snap or eerie moan one might expect. Still, despite the present danger in and out of camp, Calanon was quite happy to be spending time with Gretchin. There were a few in their group he was quite keen on getting to know, but with Gretchin it seemed more natural. Perhaps it was because she moved skillfully like he, or perhaps it was the fact she seemed much a loner as he was. He was not sure.

---

---

Sana cocked a brow towards Keystone and shook her head. "Not talking for long term you dolt. Just to get the meat to hold until tomorrow evening at the latest. Nothing a cook couldn't do," she said with a chuckling snort as she took the food that was given to her and took Kyra's as well. Heading over to Kyra and handing her the food before heading back over to Keystone and having a seat. Kyra gave a nod and started eating quietly. It was more than obvious that the ranger wanted some peace and quiet after having taken a few bites stood up and wandered over to Epona to have a seat away from the group some.

Shaking her head a bit at her old friend Sana glanced over towards Keystone as he explained, taking bites of her food as she listened. Glancing up she sighed a bit, wondering just what all they were getting themselves into. Kyra had been listening and piped in. "Basically it boils down to this. They want us to strike a treaty with the village and we have to leave someone behind as insurance," Kyra said clearly before turning her attention back to her food.

Sana looked up from her bowl and glanced over to Kyra a bit surprised by what was wanted and then over to Keystone. "Seriously?" she said more as a statement than a question. They wanted them to leave someone behind? What would happen to them if things fell through and they couldn't get a treaty worked out? Rolling her eyes a bit she set her utensil down in her bowl and ran her fingers up and through her hair. "Well isn't this just bloody brilliant," she groaned a bit before sighing. "I can stay."

Kyra's eyes shot over to Sana and she shook her head. "Fuck that, you don't even speak the language. I'll stay."

"Well neither you do twat, so there goes that idea."

---

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Lerraina remained quiet for most of their venture. Neutral in posture and poise as usual, despite her displeasure of being wet and cold. Moving away from the comfort of the warm campfire hadn't done much for her mood.

Calanon, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy their situation, which made her wonder if it was her company that brought the young elf joy, or the moisture that hung so heavy over them. She didn't care for either and she just might have rolled her eyes at the sentiment, should her own personality been allowed to shine. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy his company, she actually rather liked it. But for one, It was too stuffy for her liking, and it soured her reputation and only helped to tear down walls. Besides ... He seemed too green ... To pure, and she'd never forgive herself if she tarnished that. For as much as she liked to indulge in life's luxuries, she was battle born, and being the bastard child of a whore was the least of her transgressions. A hand subtly moved to her forearm as they stopped to fill the canteens, her own included in the bunch.

The task was more of a daunting one than a time consuming one. It wasn't very long until the canteens had been filled and stored and making their way back to the camp. Her eyes scanned the foothills of the forest, ever vigilant for proof of undead nearby. She longed to loose an arrow, the exhilaration that saturated the air and fluttered through her bones. The odds would certainly be against them if the two adventurers encountered them before reaching the camp. But at least they would have something interesting to share with the rest of the party, other than filled waterskins.

Location:The Woods, The Cave entrance
Interacting with: Gretchin, People around the fire

Calanon similarly scanned the brush for any signs of danger, but thankfully he had seen none. His Elven eyes seeing things with great clarity and definition, but still there was nothing save the occasional animal that scuttered off into the woods. Brogach bounded and bounced, and Calanon was going to make sure to keep a hand on Gretchin's shoulder to keep her from falling off if she had not already shown that she had no problems on the ride toward the river. It took balance to match the Elves to stay atop Brogach at high speed.

He had enjoyed moving fast in the forest, and wished he could stay out longer and live the life of the Ranger that he was. But it was important to stay grouped up at Camp, and his new friends needed water. He'd survived before off water laden in leaves and branches, even in bark. But even he wasn't particularly eager to leap back into that memory of a hard excursion into Orcish territory. Funny that he was riding back into something similar.

His keen Elven ears perked up at the voices that were now close, and just as Kyra had explained the situation they found themselves trotting out of the treeline. He considered Kyra's words, unsure of how he felt about that announcement at the moment. He decided to keep his mouth shut as he pondered it. He hopped off Brogach, giving Gretchin his hand and helping her down before he distributed the water skins. The young Ranger found some food for himself, and sat down by the fire to eat and listen.

Why a Cosmic soul,
Wants not pleasures of the flesh,
A hearth of cold coals.

"Well I do not take well to felines, it should best remember." An obvious tone of both obnoxiousness and haughty superiority. He seemed to gaze down on them. Standing with his ridiculously high collared robe, with the attitude equivocated to some stern tenured university professor. Was this not the boy who had asked to be her student? Now he was here telling her off like some annoyed pedantic scholar? Unlike wizards, who learned how to harness magic through vigorous study, or warlocks who made deals with entities, or priests who somehow call upon the divine plane, Sorcerers were far more mercurial. IT was in their nature, in their blood, they embodied the elementals barely contained. If a wizard was a trained warrior, studied under an institutionalized regiment, and warlocks were sly merchants who bartered their favours to the top, to which the priests were often no better, it was the Sorcerer which was the rampaging beast caged and waiting to be released. The sorcerer was a barbarian with an axe, a frenzy of energy contained in a vessel unworthy of the truth of its fury.

And imagine it, that Thomas was the thin wall of flesh between the world, and whatever it was that empowered him to be what he was. Was it the burning supernova of a sun? Or perhaps the gravitational pull of a massive moon? The dire radiance of the forgotten stars? Another universe was inside him, tiny galaxies swirling away in his veins. A cosmic soul, set into flesh, stolen from the heavens which plot to return their lost brethren to the place beyond the rim. Perhaps he was right to view others as lesser beings in this right, for they were lesser in such respect. And perhaps in the same logic, they were superior to him stronger, faster, smarter, wiser, and perhaps best of all saner. Yes, Thomas would never be conscious of his changes, but there was always the subconscious which routed him to prefer his Sun phase. Yet it was the conscious thought towards meditation which would focus his attunement, and Star Phase preferred Star Phase.

"The leaves are alleviating the sweltering fever, the heat of the campfire however..." Trailing off as he pointed at a root vegetable and willed it closer to him. The invisible hand which lifted from is resting place, what would seem ghostly to some, psychic to others, was merely magic. A mage hand worn around his neck, tucked underneath his robe, made it possible to perform this basic cantrip. And while Solar or Lunar Thomas would probably just pick up the foodstuff like a regular person, Stellar Thomas would never dreg himself so low when magic allowed him such a convenience. And now what would he do before Satilla? Inspecting his tuber like a seasoned farmer would, or rather more like a scholar reading a manuscript. He was hungry, but he had no appetite. Words would far better a meal than whatever that ridiculous excuse for a culinarian could ever dream of making, for knowledge was power, and power is delicious.

"Come. I wish to learn more about herbology from you." Wait Thomas isn't it a bit late? What is late for a man who walks amongst the stars? It was hardly an invitation but a statement short of a demand. Was this Thomas? Either way he had seemed drop the root nearby Skittles, letting it fall suddenly perhaps as an attempt to warn the cat? Next time perhaps it shall be a meteor... If he could get that spell right.

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Location: Woods North of Salarn, Orc Encampment, Evening of Day Three

Interacting With: The Group

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Keystone looked around the fire, noting the faces missing. A good half of the group, for one reason or another, had decided that it was a good time to leave when the food was more than halfway prepared. He growled absently. They were a team in name only. Not that Keystone was the regimented, ordered type, but he felt that a point of common sense was being ignored. All the same, no one was dead yet, so far as he was aware. That meant they still had time to come together. Or run their separate ways as hard and fast as possible, at their earliest opportunity. Could go either way with these people.

The massive pugilist had already torn halfway through his pheasant and neeps, and was beginning to relate the terms offered by the Orc Chief. The party Healer, Satilla, was the first to speak up, asking about said terms. Keystone swallowed hard, preparing to answer her, but was beaten to the task by Kyra. She summed it up nicely: They were to negotiate a treaty with Salarn, leaving one of theirs behind as insurance. Keystone could think of one or two of them he wouldn't mind skipping out on in the middle of the night trusting to be the party's Ambassador to these people.

His face now clear of savory meat & veggies, he spoke up, wagging a thumb at Kyra. "..<burp>.. Yeah, what she said." Truly a man of eloquence.

It was at this point that he really noticed that Sana had sat down next to him. Not to say that she was invisible or being stealthy earlier, just that it registered with him - the spots open, especially now that half their group was busy elsewhere, and she opted to share breathable air with him, voluntarily. She was a brave woman, obviously. Concerned that she would notice him staring, he snapped his head back around and grabbed a helping of rice.

Luckily (sort of), his ocular transgression was covered nicely by the minor argument between Sana and Kyra. Keystone wisely stayed out of it. The last thing he needed was to involve himself in the serrated caterwauling of two experienced archers in the middle of a possibly undead-infested wood, surrounded by Orcs that were unsure as to their motivation. Especially when the two knew each other very well. Oh no, Keystone was going to let this play out. Instead, he reached over and splatted a small serving of stewed rabbit onto his rice. It had been a little while since he had eaten his absolute fill. Now that there was enough food to do so without shorting anyone else in the group, that's precisely what he intended to do.

He wasn't thinking about the possible consequences of that decision.

Two of his group returned, right about then. The third Archer, and the very quest-oriented Elf. "Gretchin. Colcannon. Good of ya t'join." He waved to the food set out and returned his attention to his own, mildly annoyed. They were still down two. All the same, Keystone wanted to address a matter in front of them, one they had not gotten around to as of yet.

"Right... Look, I'd 'ave preferred all of us be about for it, but life ain't perfect. Gotta talk it over, yeah? Yeah. Thing is, I always seem to be stuck 'tween the Undead and the thing what they're wantin' t'get at, y'understand? Been fightin' them for years now. Lit'rally bloody years. If you lot haven't, we gotta talk Tactic. Now..."

Movement from their recently quiet member caught his attention, from almost the other side of the fire. It was the recently taken-in spellcaster, who had looked close to unconsciousness for the majority of his presence with them. Using what Keystone assumed was arcane means, an entire, intact root vegetable rose and hovered slowly to him. What concerned Keystone was that, he was dead certain that he had cut down all of the veggies prior to cooking. Perhaps he missed one. Maybe more. In morning light, he could assess.

Directly following the arcane relocation of the wild baigie, Thomas broke the fireside conversation, seemingly expostulating the idea of talking business in lieu of expanding his knowledge of herbalism, under Satilla's tutelage. Sure enough, it got Keystone's attention away from the ongoing discussion of their predicament and dangers to come. Yes, he was quite interested in this new exchange, just not for the reason likely preferred.

When Thomas dropped the freshly cooked foodstuff onto the ground, the itinerant pugilist wished to voice his disapproval of the younger man's behavior.

"What the 'ell arsebiscuitry is this, ya fongin' cockmerchant? Lobbin' about my bloody neeps, at her bloody cat, and now you're wantin' something from 'er? PISS OFF. We got matters, and Bacon-damned serious ones, need looking to." Keystone was rising from his seat, plate still in hand. His demeanor suggested almost parental incredulity, with restrained, pulsating annoyance that threatened to make a lateral move. "If'n you get hungry, your supper's feline adjacent at present. Help or bloody leave."

Thinking about it optimistically, Keystone might have found a frontrunner for the Ambassador position.

Satilla Valen

Well someone was in a whole different type of attitude and mood than before. Satilla looked at Thomas, wondering what to do with him. Thomas’s earlier younger and likable attitude from earlier was gone, now he appeared as a way too prideful professor that didn’t care about the rabble students and just wanted to do his own thing, while preferable have the whole world dance upon his desires.

“Well…” The witch started, taking a small bite from her food.” Will have to wait, I’m still eating.” She stated, continuing her meal.” Do not lose track of simple manners at least.” She added, returning her attention to the rest of the group. The witch didn't like Thomas in this state.

“So we require to leave a ‘guarantee’ while we try to broker a treaty?” She muttered in almost disbelieve.” What will happen with the person who stays if the town don’t agree to it?” The witch asked, throwing a glance at Keystone and Kyra. Both fit the role of leaders of this group. Then again, Satilla wondered what was with Sana and Kyra and their apparent childish fight about who should stay. They looked almost like siblings fighting over something in that moment.

Cyneburg

Location: The Woods Nearby the Makeshift Camp
Interacting with: Ntaj

It was irritating to be told things that were both obvious and well-known. Just a bit. Of course she knew that the forest was dangerous. That was one of the first things she learned as a child, and saying that you don't need to tell someone something while you're telling them that thing doesn't magically make the statement less redundant. And going out in the first place was more of an issue of assuaging her own ego rather than a genuine attempt to find firewood that they probably wouldn't need (something she would probably have to work on later). Of course, she wasn't going to tell Ntaj that. It would hurt her image as a priest of nature (and the images of other druids by extension) to reveal that this was more or less a selfish act.

When Ntaj turned around to walk away was when her emotional gears shifted. She had probably been coming off as callous, and in hindsightthe past few days she'd been really self-centered. She needed to fix this, and right now she could do that by not abandoning one of her newly met party members. Cyne swiveled around to follow Ntaj and put a hand on his shoulder.

"If I wanted to be alone, I wouldn't have let you catch up in the first place. While we're out here we stick together. Akh?" She had no idea where coal would be if it were in this area, let alone how he had even planned to gather and carry it back to the rest of the party waiting back at the camp. Sure she could definitely soften up any rock around the coal, but he didn't know that. Or at least he shouldn't know that she had access to that particular skill. Still, she figured it was better than looking for dry wood in a decidedly wet forest.

Ntaj was walking away from Cyneburg when he heard her call out to him. Apparently she was okay with sticking with him out here. That was great; the forest was scary. Smiling at the fellow half-orc, Ntaj nodded his head. "Oui!" Glad that Cyneburg would be watching his back, Ntaj went back to the idea of finding coal. While it may have been too early to make a call, Ntaj was not holding out on any hopes that they would find dry wood. Frankly, Ntaj started wondering if Keystone had sent Ntaj on this task knowing Ntaj would not find any wood, in hopes of getting rid of him. "No... No. Keystone is a smart guy. Not a nice one maybe, but he wouldn't send me out here if he didn't think I couldn't be useful. I'm a natural woodsman after all! It'd only make sense that he'd send out the most capable of us to find something like dry wood in a rained forest."

Still, Ntaj's optimism didn't change the fact that just about every twig and stick underneath the skies were soaked to the core. He had collected a few armfuls of thin but slightly moist branches, which Ntaj was almost certain that it could be turned into decent kindling if left by the fire. But unfortunately, still no big, thick logs that Ntaj could use as real fuel for the flames. Looking for that coal was starting to become more and more reasonable. While Ntaj was looking around, a surprise guest made an appearance; Honey the Badger. His bloodied face made Ntaj carefully put his bundle of sticks onto a relatively dry spot near a tree trunk as he checked his friend. "Honey! Done hunting?"Fortunately a cursory check allowed Ntaj to see that Honey had no wounds, and most of the blood appeared to belong to something else. It helped that Honey still had a hand sized chuck of said meat in his mouth, though he wasn't keen on sharing it with Ntaj. Seeing his friend's meal made Ntaj's stomach growl audibly, reminding him that he left camp without eating, and that he won't be able to return to camp without something to show for it.

Still, something didn't sit right with Ntaj. This piece of meat wasn't a small limb or creature that Honey usually hunts. It looked to be a chunk of meat from a larger creature, perhaps a wolf or a deer? Hard to tell from simply looking at a piece of meat, but whatever it was it was bigger than Honey. And Honey didn't have any injuries from a fight, no scratches or claw marks, only some dirt and the blood from feasting. Did Honey perhaps feed off a cadaver? It wouldn't be impossible Ntaj knew that much. While Ntaj knew better than to feed off creatures he didn't kill, Honey had no such reservations.

Still Ntaj wondered who slew this beast for Honey to feed from. At first Honey thought it would be the orcs. After all, they weren't too far from their camp and it wouldn't surprise Ntaj if they went hunting. However Ntaj also thought that it wouldn't be normal for orcs to leave behind perfectly good meat. Honey had a fairly hefty chunk here, no fur and still bloody. The idea that an orc would just kill an animal for game was... Not entirely unexpected to be honest but it seemed odd regardless. Then Ntaj thought that perhaps it was undead. This unlucky creature simply was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and was mercilessly struck down by a zombie's weapon. It would certainly explain why the meat was left alone. But Ntaj shook this idea off too. While animals might not be the smartest creatures on the planet, Ntaj knew (Or at least he felt this would be common knowledge) that animals tend to stay away from the living, and would certainly run away from the living dead. With their keen animal senses and intuition, if anyone knew that the undead approached, it would be the creatures of the forest. The only last idea that Ntaj could think of was simply that this animal was the prey of another. Certainly not out of the question either, and relatively mundane all things considered. Perhaps it was a elk or other creature who had fallen prey to a predator, who left behind his meal for whatever reason. Perhaps they noticed orcish hunters or the undead.

Admittedly Ntaj only pondered the possibilities because he was slowly losing interest in the chance of finding dry wood. As bad as it would be, Ntaj felt that it would be a delightful change of pace if they ran into some zombies for him to fight. At least then he could report back to camp about his battle and have a reasonable explanation why he didn't bring back any firewood. But alas, his imagination was no replacement for reality. Picking up Honey and placing him in his bag Ntaj continued their search. "We look for wood Honey. Dry wood. Maybe coal? You know where?" Ntaj spoke to his furry companion, who paid the half-orc no mind and continued to finish chewing his meaty meal. Smiling and sighing at the same time Ntaj continued his search. Perhaps Cyneburg with her druid magic could help? He turned towards her, hopeful. "Any idea?"

---

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Sana and Kyra both thanked the pair for bringing back water, it was well needed even with all the rain. It was one thing to have rains soak you through but another to feel the water rushing over your tongue. Both very happy to partake in the water that was retrieved. Sana was about to say something else along the lines of thanks when she heard Thomas changing the subject and then glanced over as Keystone went into his little rip on the man. Biting the inside of her cheek she couldn't help but laugh a bit, even if rudely, towards the entire situation. Kyra simply took another bite of her meal as she watched, though as she put her utensil down her fingers curled along the line bow. This could erupt in her mind rather horridly.

Sana coughed a bit as she placed her bowl down as to not spill its contents, her laughter becoming harder and harder to contain. "You must have been in far worse condition than I thought when I found you. Here we have undead running through the forest, in the middle of a war, an orc camp, and you are talking about wanting to learn about plants? While we are trying to decide who needs to stay behind and on top of that you spill a meal made by a man of Keystones explosiveness?" she said between the chortles of mirth flowing from her lips. Kyra nearly choked on what she was trying to swallow at Sana's choice of words and slowly moved to ensure she wasn't in the path of Keystone towards Thomas or his rearend, because after what she smelt at the tavern neither end was particularly safe.

Rolling on the ground, the gypsy held her gut form the pain that the laughter was beginning to induce as she rolled onto her knees and slowly tried to calm the giggles. Laughing hard enough to break a sweat and gasp for air. "My vote goes to Thomas to stay behind," she suggested as she wiped the oddly joyous tears from the corner of her eyes. Unlacing her bow from her chest and resting it in her lap as she looked up at the stars. Krya say down over by Satilla and cocked a brow. "Last time I saw the woman laugh like that she skull fucked the cause with an arrow," she said in an all too calm voice.

Such agitation. Fools of simpler minds could not comprehend the vastness of the cosmos. Could they not see it? Were they blinded by the darkness of their own ignorance? Or Were they blinded by the light of his own brilliance? Even now this woman laughed like in euphoric mania worthy of the Mad Gods. The blind idiot who desires the world to dance around themself, dancing to the tune of its own design. The dread names whispered among the stars, for even beyond their reach were the epicelestials, beings said to be of tremendous might and power, the god of gods which rule over the gods. And their names were nameless, unspoken but described in ways befitting to them. Only those loremasters would know the true names of these things, but even they grasp at straws. For perhaps they do not actually exist at all, or perhaps they do and they choose not to.

"Hrmph. Bread is not enough for me. Your culinary efforts will be reduced to excrement within its passing after consumption. Knowledge remains. And though in your skills may craft a meal worthy of the gods themselves, it was your mind which forged the nectar and ambrosia lest you are merely a brain-dead monkey who prepares meals by plucking from the chaos a concoction of pure luck rather than thought. You cannot sate my appetite for knowledge in this life. So perhaps in terms you shall understand, I shall ask of you in the colloquial befit of a man of your profession and brow: Simmer Down."
Not keen on making friends here, having told off Keystone in a direct confrontation with nary a glance at the aforementioned explosive chef. The megalomaniac version of Thomas was a far cry from the shy and almost-inept one about an hour or two earlier. Yet no one has brought it up or directly asked the Sorcerer himself regarding the 120 degree shift in personality, maybe they didn't care, or perhaps they never had experienced a sorcerer in their midst.

"Very well." A rather laconic response for Satilla, contrasted to the long-winded, grandiose, and near-philosophic or perhaps sophistic report given toward Keystone.

"As for your concern of undead, the pursuit of knowledge is a worthy venture. Great sages of old have delved deep into the inferno, angered the very gods, and it is said the knowledge of this very fire was stolen from either the heavens or the abyss. And it is better to die one step closer to enlightenment, lest you would rather live in ignorance. As such perhaps it is best that indeed I stay, these in so far quiet orcs may keep better company than a hysteric and militant."

There it returned. The haughty arrogance as he practically volunteered himself to stay in the company of orcs. Maybe he should have eaten something, as he heard Sana's snickers, because someone really ought to tell Thomas he's not him when he's hungry.

Location:Beside the Cave, The River
Interacting with: The group

Once the water had been passed out, Calanon grabbed a bit of food that he could and sat down on the nearest dry log or patch of dirt he could to sit. Thankfully he found a short log, and plopped down to begin eating gingerly. He had a quiet and calm demeanor as usual, and ate in the same fashion. It tasted fair, especially considering the primitive settings they were in. He'd often had to cook in a similar fashion outside, but most of the time he was not very good at it. He had simply made it edible enough to survive off of.

The Elf simply listened to Kyra, Sana, and Keystone speak their minds about this deal they were to make with the Orcs. He didn't exactly like the deal, but even he had to admit that the Orcs were simply being careful. As he bit into a bit of meat, he wondered why the three leaders, or was it just Keystone and Kyra,(?) were often annoyed. Good groups worked in unison, but this group seemed ragtag enough, and had little training together. They might want to take it easy a bit, and perhaps wait for others to show up before they began a discussion. He was just glad he had Elven hearing.

Even with those small thoughts, he still was not entirely prepared for Thomas to say what he said. First he heard the young man's comment on Satilla. Granted, Calanon might be a bit lentient on Thomas for being a grower of plants but...Satilla was a fine companion and should be respected. The comment toward Keystone had Calanon stop chewing, and the Elf's exotic eyes looked between Thomas and the man. It was then that Calanon uttered something in a manner that was not befitting of his usual self. But he simply couldn't help himself at what was swiftly becoming a showdown. "Oh shit."

He was going to volunteer to stay behind himself, but he decided to wait to see how the group handled this situation before he spoke up about that. It wasn't good to get involved unless actual steel was drawn. Even Brogach seemed interested at what was transpiring, though perhaps he simply was looking at those who spoke.