They trudged through the mud and the mire for what seemed like hours, until finally they found an end of the disgusting and smelly bog. It was the first bit of ground they had found that their feet didn't sink into once stepped upon. "Good, solid ground." Geradin muttered, stomping on the patched dirt for good measure. To the side, Beren the warrior Monk practically leaped out of the swamp, hitting the dirt and shaking his feet and legs like a dog would. He hadn't seemed to dislike the experience though, the Caramel skinned young fighter was pretty much the only one other than the towering, armor clad Lizardman to not hold his nose for any length of time. 

Geradin patted his robes, grumbling. Calanon stood before the group, gazing into the heavily wooded forest before them with his keen Elven eyes. Beside him, Brogach the Red Elk stood, ears erect. The group continued to collect themselves and dry off, before Calanon suddenly drew his bow in a lightning swift motion and aimed at the trees before any of them could blink. 

"[i]Hiyovin'la![/i]" A voice called out, drifting from the Woods as if the very trees had spoken to them. The ranger blinked, and lowered his bow slightly. He called back in Elvish, speaking for a few moments in a language none could decipher, gesturing to his group as he did so. Another voice, a different one but no less whimsical, spoke from another direction within the forest, and soon Elves clad in brown leather and green tunics, over light mail revealed themselves, striding out of the treeline armed with spears, swords, and bows drawn. 

The Lizardman, now known as Argon, hissed warningly. Beren the monk had put up his guard as soon as Calanon had begun conversing, but he dropped it now and did his best to soothe the warrior beastman beside him. "They're the one's we're supposed to meet." he told Argon. The Lizardman blinked, and tilted his head in a very alien manner. "Oh. I shall stay my blade for now. Thank you, friend Beren." 

At the fore, a blonde Elven woman clad in functional but light armor strode before them. Hands on her hips, she measured the travelers with a look of appraisal. Pointed ears poked out of her golden mane of hair. "I see you were sent by Vanya. I trust the bog was not too difficult for you." Her voice would have been honeyed and pleasant if it had not come from someone who was so obviously used to commanding others in combat situations, making it more hoarse and curt. "I am Verya. If you're done wiping yourselves off, we will take you to our waypoint and provide food and clean water. You'll need it. Troubling news has reached us." 
[@Fetzen][@Banana][@The Fated Fallen][@BCTheEntity]