[@Gentlemanvaultboy] [@thewizardguy] [@Wraithblade6] 

	[center]Ozo, the Great![/center]
 [h1]Dusk of the first day[/h1]

	Ozo, for the most part, did what he did best for his friends as they set up camp for the night. He pulled out a pot from his backpack, some dried herbs, and vegetables, and some dried meats. Quickly putting them all together in the pot, and setting it on a rock, which was planted into the edge of the bonfire, he stirred it as it began to steam, conduction doing its thing. 
	"If you don't want a soup to spoil, never boil...If you want soup to be a winner, simmer, simmer...." He hums as he cooks, the large fish man sings that simple melody over, and over, as he stirs, and seasons his soup. After a few hours, he puts forth his creation, as everyone was winding down for the night. "There ya go. I hope you all enjoy soup, made by a master chef!" Ozo declares, proud of his work, and indeed, it's the work of almost heavenly proportions. After drinking his portion, as Ozo does little chewing, he flops onto the ground, and sleeps. 

	[h2] Dawn of the second day [/h2]

	Ozo woke with a start, the last to awaken, and only due to the arrival of the strange knight. Ozo sat up, and wiped his eyes. "..Well..Hello! My name is Ozo...you're some sort of powerful being! A knight of great standing...Oh..why are we here? Well, I'm here to help them! They saved my life, and I seek to repay such a debt...also..as for the gods following me, they're hitch hikers, not gods of mine. One of them follows my human friend...and the other sorta just..showed up, after I ate a chunk of magical sword...So..yes, there's that." Ozo begins, smiling widely.Out of all of them, grief found no home in his heart. He's lived his life with no regrets. No remorse. Any failure, a learning experience to improve upon. Any victory, even hard fought, celebrated. Friends lost, revered, rather than mourned. 
	However, excitement filled the gap left by grief. He seemed to almost glow with anticipation, expecting something great, wondrous, magical from this encounter. He rocked on his feet, his fat fishy feet, not knowing what would come next, but seeming giddy all the same. Be it a fight, or a new friend, he was ready, and waiting.