Rintor scowls as he walks. The mountains looming in the near distance seem more arid than they'd looked from afar. It's likely that the party is headed into their rain shadow. Open ground is more defensible with a party this large and unlikely to travel stealthily, but voyaging into the mountains proper is inadvisable. Finding and following a river or stream into he foothills is our best bet. Then there's the startling lack of native fauna that more than one person has observed. Briefly, Rintor adds his voice to the growing chorus of agreement. The halfling and the tall, gangling girl - still half a child - go to investigate, while the half-elf seems eager only for the personal glory of slaying a beast in combat, uncognizant or perhaps uncaring of the fact that hoping to protect others from danger means hoping for it to exist in the first place.

All of these little storylines come to a halt before they have the chance to resolve themselves, however, when a sudden, unexpected noise emerges from the depths of the heavily-laden cart. It quickly turns into a man breaking free, supplies tumbling to the ground, and -

Rintor does not wait a moment longer. He centers himself, reaches for the threads of light, and grabs them none too gently. Disappearing from view, he sprints toward where the man is leaping from the cart, landing in a roll, and starting to rise. The stowaway pauses, his face becoming pained, pensive, bewildered, and then jubilant in sequence. Then The Blade of Boshir appears in front of him, black-robed and as menacing as he cares to look at this point in his life. "We know no more than you, stranger. Now you had best explain the Who are you, and what the meaning of this intrusion is." He rests his hands on his daggers, feeling a long-forgotten or perhaps long-repressed rush, and quickly clamps down on it again. The consequences would be too great.

As the shabby little man turned away from her, Rhen had to suppress a shiver. Those few who couldn't be distracted by physical appearance were always the worst threat to changelings' independence. Certainly made it more difficult for her. She wasn't anywhere near the master manipulator her cousins were. Perhaps, when she got back, she'll get more in touch with her heritage. They were the people of the twilight, and standing out in the metaphorical daylight seemed to be less appealing by the moment. Surely someone here could be a beard for her. It wasn't necessary, of course, but she sort of wanted the reassurance.

Distrust had shaped her people, and she thought she'd rise above it. Perhaps- The crack of wood shattering caused her, and more than a few of the others, to turn around. The Bashirian reacted first, disappearing then reappearing in front of a... man. A very, very, noticeable man. Rhen moved between the newcomer and the Bashirian, paling her hair and skin to contrast the threat. By the time she stood between them, she was shoulder-height to both of them and almost platinum blonde. "Wait a minute..." She put a hand on each of their chests. To stop them doing anything rash would have been her excuse, but she quite liked the muscles on both sides.

"Perhaps, gentlemen," she looked up at both of them, her best almost-innocent teen smile on her face, "we should start with diplomacy." She turned to face the newcomer completely, noticing the tattoos. She wondered where he got those, briefly distracted by the spectacle. "So, tall, strong, glowing, what on the new world were you doing in our provisions?" The thought that he'd been put there for her eye candy briefly flickered through her mind, but she shook it off and watched his eyes instead. "Stowing away for glory? No, you're too surprised. You are happy to be here, but you didn't expect it." She put her hand over his heart. "You're not a threat. Not now, am I right?"

@Force and Fury@ReusableSword

The splintering wood caused the soldier part of Esailia's mind to kick in, halting any conversation. As she whirled to face the new threat, shield raised, a command for the group to get behind her on her lips, she saw Rintor already on top of the situation....literally. She didn't ask questions, her mind jumping from containing the event to making sure they weren't surprised again. The Mithra turned outward, her gaze flying around the nearby area for any sign of possible ambush or attack, not caring about finding out what caused the crash at that moment, since she'd be informed eventually.

Ayana jumped when the wood splintered behind her. The shattering of that crate was easily the loudest noise to grace these plains in some time, and the newcomer's shout, even more so. The kitsune reflexively put her hands up in a defensive stance and took a few steps back. She could defend herself if she had to, but she would rather leave the situation to more able fighters. Her heart raced as the others approached the stranger. She couldn't say why, but she didn't like the look of the tattoos the man was wearing, nor did she like the fact that what they thought was food was actually another person. She glanced over at Esailia and her tension eased a bit. The Mithra was clearly ready to do her job if they had to. Surely all of them could easily take out one crook.

Tori jumps at the sound of the wood breaking, quickly turning around bow in hand. Ready to shoot if someone said to do so. Still unsettled as many others are, she keeps her eyed locked on the man, his tattoos clearly showing. Tori looked at Esailia and said " tell me when and I will shoot, No hesitation ". She wouldn't even think twice. @Yuuta@Esailia

He didn’t react when the man appeared before him, little could disrupt the euphoria he was experiencing that was until the man spoke. This Dark robed man who stood before him seemed experienced, hands reaching for what looked like the hilt of a blade before hesitating. His orange eyes looked the man over, “you’re not a guard, Assassin maybe. With body type… scout more likely yet too much practice and discipline. Hmm former military likely” he spoke aloud as if thinking in a mono tone voice. “If he is a trained killer, maybe he is here for you?” the demons words whispered through his mind, “No I doubt he is, his eyes betray him. There is no fear, curiosity more likely.”

Then he was distracted by yet another, this time a girl she looked young pale skin and white hair. She was short and a bit courageous getting in between two relatively sized men. He raised his hands slowly to adjust the wrappings around his face to better hide it from them, this was something he has done so often its almost second nature to him. The iron chains rattled as he moved his arms before resting them back down at his sides. Then this girl did something unexpected, she touched him and spoke to him like a human. He took a deep breath as she rested her hand over his heart and after pausing for a moment to hear her words he recoiled away from her touch.

It was only a few steps simply to be out of arm’s length, as if she represented danger or something he did not deserve. “Please” the man spoke still looking at where she had touched him, “Don’t do that again.” His eyes gradually looked back up at her, “Neither of you show fear, so you must not know who I am... or you don't care” The man bit his lip underneath his scarf, “you could give them a false name” The demons words held strategy but was not the advice he needed, “No Argor I will tell them the truth, even if they try to kill me”

The man stood up straight and looked to them, “My name is Victor Warnock, the people of Chaosera have grown to give me the name the Crimson Marauder” he paused for a moment to let it sink in and judge their reactions as well as giving himself time to take off his head wrap, “I was supposed to be put to death by executioners ax for the murders of at least two hundred villagers and five nobles, the destruction of three villages, as well as numerous acts to incite chaos and tyranny against the crown.” Again he paused this time for a while longer, “I’d like to make it a point whether you believe me or not that it was not my choice to do the things I have done. As for your provisions, I can only guess that I was easier to dispose of with you, then with them.” Again he paused this time looking around at both his surroundings and the others.

The surrounding plains where bare for the most part, aside from the odd shrub or small tree. The orange sky and strange cloud formations would have convinced him he was somewhere far away but the fact that the sky was orange and the sun was still rather up in the sky irked his sense of well everything. It all seemed off, in smell, feel, and sound. “Where am I?”

@checkeredsoul@Yuuta@Esailia@Regitnui@Force and Fury

@checkeredsoul@ReusableSword

Esailia tore her gaze from their surroundings to shake her head at Tori, murmuring "No, too soon to start making threats." Before resuming her self-appointed duty to keep a watch for surprises. If a single man stashed in our cart surprised a veteran like Rintor, I shudder to think what else could be in store...

But even as she thought this, Thee man announced himself as the Crimson Marauder, and her face went pale, shield and sword falling to her sides in shock. He kept talking, but the Mithra wasn't listening anymore, instead her mind was flung back into the past by that name...

A tattoed man wandering out of her house, dragging behind him a Mithra woman...Searching a village calling out for her mama....faceless men dragging her out of her hiding place and taking her away from her home...

Armor clinked as Esailia clenched her fist around the hilt of her sword "Bastard...." She muttered, before saying louder "Murderer!" and starting a sprint towards Victor, sword raised. Her armor made more than enough noise to alert a deaf troll of her approach...

I have killed nearly as many, yet I am lauded as a hero, at least by my own people. War is funny that way. Rintor looks the man up and down. Rhen has inserted herself in between them and Rintor already senses ulterior motives at work. This new arrival makes Rintor feel both sympathy and an intense apprehension. He knows little of the man's story, being from as far afield as he is, but he knows the name. There is a...darkness about you that is not of you, he thinks. Rintor's darkness is very much his own, willingly and constantly suppressed. surreptitiously, he lowers his hands from the grips of his daggers.

To the man's question, he replies, "We have stepped through a portal to another world. Beyond that, you know as well as I do."

Then, Esailia shouts and Rintor turns. "Do not take justice into your own hands, recruit!" She seems to keep charging. Rintor finds the threads again and prepares. "We will decide how to deal with him as a group!"

@Esailia@ReusableSword Tori nodded at Esailia, and lowered her bow. Yet still with little trust she kept it in hand. Then another woman appeared, yelling words as rude as she had ever heard from anyone in a long time. " Do you know her?" She asked trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Whatever was happening, it wasn't going to end well. For some reason Tori felt lost but only in her mind. She had No reason to trust anyone here yet Esailia was someone she would listen to. She looked at her, waiting patiently for an answer. Yet before she got an answer Esailia was gone.

"The Crimson Marauder?" Rhen repeated, ignoring the military discipline going on in the background. She grinned with genuine pleasure. "You're famous, and I want you." A single step forward sufficed to bring him back within a suitable distance for surreptitious examination. "You're a legend, and my people like keeping legends alive."

She turned to the Bashirian. "I vote we keep him. Or at least, that I can keep him." Rhen turned back to Victor, excited to meet such a well-known personality. If she could get his persona right, and pass it on properly, her cousins would practically wet themselves. Right before her was the opportunity of a lifetime, and he was not going to slip put of her grasp. Even if the rumours were true about him being demon-possessed. "At least as long as it takes to know him properly."

@ReusableSword@Force and Fury

Victor looked at the man before him, a bit of confusion on his face, “Portal?” it took him a moment to realize, “you mean that big thing the kingdoms had been preparing for lately, or whatever shindig that was.” again the demon chimed in, “that would explain why we don't feel the master anymore.” Victor nodded then looked towards the sound of screaming, “hmm someone remembers us" a deep sigh from Argor, “it was simply a matter of time... would you like to trade out?” Before he could switch, the girl in front of him said something surprising. Confusion swept over him for a moment before he spoke, “You want me? I am no legend, I'm a monster” Argor spoke once again, “you and your admirer can talk about it later right now where in danger” Victor frowned and took another step back in a way that it put this girl and the other one between him.

The change was subtle the tattoos began to pulse along his body before slowly sinking to a dark red as the black of his pupils enveloped the orange in his eyes and slowly bled into the white of his eyes until everything was black. The chains on his arms tightened as he wrapped them once around his hands settling himself in a relaxed defensive posture. “I know your wondering girl, my name is Argor the destroyer” his voice was deeper and he seemed to hold himself with an air of pride and arrogance as he waited for the attack.

@Regitnui@Force and Fury@Esailia

@ReusableSword@Regitnui@Force and Fury

There was no yelling, there was no battlecry. Esailia crossed the distance quicker than one would imagine someone in full plate could move, as though she too were possessed by some unnatural force driving her muscles and intent. The woman's gaze was locked onto Victor, the man of her nightmares, the man who caused her so much pain...It was clear in her face that she was beyond listening to reason. The hate overwhelmed her mind, and took control of her actions.

The Mithra Guardian deftly sidestepped Rhen, her shield grazing the Changeling's arm, before preparing to shield-bash Victor. She didn't seem to care what Rintor was doing, only registering him NOT aiming a weapon at her or the man who just claimed he was a known criminal and murdurer.

"No no no, its shield bash, then twist and thrust!" The man corrected the pair of girls, whom both wore heavy leathers and were equipped with wooden shields and swords "You always follow through with your movement, as not to give your enemy time to recover. Now, try again...."

Children! Hotheads! Whatever personal vendetta was being played out here, justified or otherwise, could not be allowed to hijack this expedition so early on. Why the kingdoms sent so many inexperienced, emotional youths on what should be a journey of discovery is beyond Rintor. For a moment, he even considers letting these two kill each other, but he who allows a preventable death to happen is nearly as bad as he who does the deed. Besides, that's the taint of demonic possession.

Feeling that the threads will slip away from him soon, he leaps into action. First, Rintor decides to use the mithra's momentum against her, setting himself for a bare moment and thrusting a palm upwards into her chin. Plate armour is great for protection, but not so great for balance. A hard enough blow above the centre of gravity should knock her over. Immediately, he spins away, drawing his daggers and releasing the threads in the process. A familiar burning sensation spreads through his gut. The warning, he thinks. Further violence will release the curse. Aware of his own impotence, he nonetheless reappears with a blade at Victor's neck. "Both of you," he bellows in his best parade ground drill-sergeant, "compose yourselves! Esailia, you are a representative of your law-abiding people and so help me, I will have you behave as one! You, newcomer," he demands, "you had best explain this demonic taint you have brought into our presence or I will step aside and let her run you through without hesitation."

Esailia had been ready for a counterattack from Victor, but this left her wide open to Rintor's palm. It connected strong and sure, sending the Guardian into a backward cartwheel to land on her back and neck, and a moment later her legs followed. She wasn't knocked out, but she was without a doubt dazed and in shock from the landing...

@Esailia@Force and Fury
Tori stands bow drawn, she waits for anyone to tell her to shoot. Nothing would be worse than shooting someone that we could have gotten info from. People are rushing around what Tori could do is either shoot at someone or run towards Esailia. Tori has never had to think so much about something. At home she was able to think clear and when something happened she could be done is short time. Now in this new land she wants to help everyone. She lowers her head for a second and then runs to Esailia.

The potential danger was right in their midst. He certainly looked dangerous to Shel, tall and weighty, oddly clothed, masked, faintly glowing. All tended to be tell tale signs of trouble. There was also the story he told of himself, explaining that you both were and were not responsible for the murder of 200 villagers, that also tended to be a tell tale sign of trouble.

But what was a Halfling to do?

Rintor and Rhen had began a vote in regard to just what to do with their stowaway. Shel was pretty sure from the way she was looking at him that the changeling had a list of ideas that was growing by the moment. But before much could come of that the Mithra Esalia had dashed in and been restrained by Rintor, preventing an encounter that may well have led to the death of incapacitation of one or the other.

With the battle momentarily delayed and the relative safety provided by having three of their number quite close indeed to the threat with a fourth providing bow and arrow cover Shel figured he really ought to do something.

His sling and his butcher knife weren't particularly threatening, but Shel wasn't very good at being threatening in general. Wasn't much good for much of anything in combat, good thing then it hadn't come to combat just yet. He tottered over waving gaily despite the awkwardness.

"Hello Victor the Crimson Marauder, hello Argor the Destroyer," he said to the stowaway, "I'm Shel the Halfling," looking uncomfortable and pointedly out of his depth he reached into his bag and pulled forth his mighty weapon with a flourish, "Would you care for some Traggot? It's a Dwarfen delicacy, boiled wolf hide."

Ayana gasped when she saw the violence unfold. At first she was too stunned to stop Esailia from charging at the strange tattooed stowaway, but once she saw the mithra hit the ground, she ran over to try to give her a hand. "No, no, we shouldn't be fighting each other!" she yelled, a quiver of fear in her voice for what would happen if the party immediately shattered and started killing one another. She bent down and put an arm around Esailia to try to help her sit up. "I think Rintor's right. At least let him explain why he was in the box before you go around stabbing people." She kept her hands on Esailia, prepared to hold her back if she needed to should the mithra decide to lose it again and go at the man.

As they spoke, the sun finally touched the horizon, and the orange sky started to fade into a deep red. Ayana curiously glanced at the grass. It was starting to look less green. Maybe it was just the dimming light...

The man was still for a moment as the blade was pressed against his throat, one would expect fear from some one appearing next to him yet Argor simply smiled until something caught his attention. A short man that walked over with a cheerful way about him, addressing both Victor and himself was a good way to catch his eye. “You would kill the boy and release the demon? For doing nothing more than protecting themselves?” he paused for a moment as he looks to the girl in armor while still speaking to the man, “Within context that would make you out to be the first murderer in this new realm and not the intrepid defender... but at least I know now that making her angry makes her a sloppy fighter.”

He turned his attention back to the Halfling offering him food, “why thank you, Master Shel” a title he commonly used towards Halflings. Their upbeat and helpful nature made it difficult for him to find a reason to kill them before... although some did get caught up in the massacres occasionally. The demons dark eyes glanced to the man with the knife as the chains he was holding loosened as he reached out slowly for the food before taking it, “I haven't the slightest idea why we were in that crate. However, the lord that was sentencing us did seem rather superstitious, that could have something to do about it” He took a bite of the food and looked to the others, “It seems to be getting dark... and the grass changes colors” a short pause from the demon, “that is strange.”

@Esailia@Force and Fury@BangoSkank@Yuuta@Regitnui

The change was subtle, but mesmerising. The uneducated eyes of fixedforms might only see the eyes, but that had been one of the first tricks Rhen had been taught. The important part was how the slight hesitancy of the mortal afraid of their power changed to the steady assurance of an immortal. The body language shifted completely, and Rhen unintentionally mimicked it, her eyes changing as well.

The attacks and ripostes were a ballet to her eyes, even with as little as had happened. Demons moved differently, and Rhen drank in every muscle movement, every gesture. When he spoke, she repeated the words under her breath. It was a slow process, getting the appearance and accent right, but the real work was getting the personality right.

She noticed the grass only when he mentioned it, so absorbed she was in knowing him. "It might even be dangerous," she added, forgetting she had his accent on her lips. "I've seen vampires change like this. Perhaps the grass is the reason we don't have animals here." She took out her book, getting closer to the Crimson Marauder and narrating the events.

"Forgive me if I haven't got your language quite right," she said to him, looking at the demon's eyes. "But I'm not just interested in your host. Both of you are the legend, and I would ask both of your permission to learn you." She shook her hair back to the red colour she'd worn initially, and cleared her throat. "Who's the plant expert around here?" She called in her original voice. "This grass needs an examination before it turns into bloodsucking knives or sets itself alight."

@Yuuta@ReusableSword@Esailia
Tori was trying to help Esailia when Ayana came also. Tori listened to what she had to say, " yeah maybe he had a good reason" Tori said trying to make Esailia calm down. She could tell that Ayana had noticed the light dimming, " god we haven't even made a shelter." she said. " Esailia, Ayana, maybe we sould just get back to the group, there is no reason to fight when no one has eaten a good meal all day.

Tori looked around seeing the sun go down, " come on guys". Tori waits for the others to nod or something she didn't feel like having someone die tonight.