Orchid kept his grip on the man, but did remove his blade from his throat to let him speak. Parum and Kyra asked the questions while Orchid kept the man on the ground, and he was rather surprised when an arrow flew into his eye socket. Orchid turned to see that Kyra had executed the man after the questioning. Orchid didn't say much about it, but thought that maybe more could've been coaxed from the prisoner. But then again, it's not as if Orchid would have known how to do that without giving the man a savage beating for it. Having no reason to maintain grapple Orchid let the body fall to the ground as he got up and sheathed his blade. First thing Orchid did after that was go eat some chicken. Though fairly burnt after left unattended, Orchid had no issues eating the overcooked fowl. Or all of them for that matter. Better then chewing on kobolds anyways.

Saving two field hens for the others Orchid returned to the group when Brannor asked what the dead man had to tell. After finishing his snack Orchid spoke up. "Mhmm. Man not cultist. Hire sword, wanted to runaway. More cultist mile away. Rearguard." Kyra also had plans to infiltrate the cult in disguise. Orchid had no issues with that either; being sneaky was just a thing a hunter does. The elves used to dress in boar skins when hunting the great sows of the south. He figured that they'd do something similar here. "We be sneaky. Pretend be cultist. And then... What?" Orchid didn't really think about why they needed to sneak in, assuming that their purpose was to kill everyone. He supposed that they could sneak inside to sabotage the place. But he didn't have any plans beyond finding the cultist and killing them.

"What do we do?"

@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Hekazu@Ryonara@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen

Drawing blood, from the helpless and hapless prisoner, demarcated the situation perfectly, constraining the righteous fury of the cleric to symbolize as a beacon to all those that stood between them and Tiamat's hoard. The furry kerchief over the ursine druid, begged curious laughter from the enveloping trees and forest, as the green barbarian nonchalantly followed his stomach’s orders, once his brawn was no longer required. Carefully, with energetic firmness, looking, with a changed and inspired expression, at the spot where Brannor motioned over and stood, after loosing an arrow, the brown animal trotted slowly to the previous weapon's cache.

Something seemed not right.

The kobolds had fled unscathed, but were mythic in their talents to regroup and outmaneuver others with treacherous tactics and numbers. Such menaces forced the old pirate to remain in the shell of the bear for a moment longer as the battle's song grew brisker and the time duller.

A decision was to be made.

They were to either seek the route of either the rear guard, or to race further ahead in earnest quest for the monks’ bequeathed master, Leosin.

His paws cinched strings of dirt and leaves between each gritty claw, snapping branches in his wake. The ground appeared littered by someone who was gathering firewood to bolster their recently interrupted meal. Rearing on his hind extremities, Torus wailed in an imploring tone; exhaustion had already riddled the youthful beast’s demeanor. He bore teeth and smiled seriously. His semblance mimicked both a naive and precise attitude, as if he was in a youngster's dilemma, not participating in a foreign folk dance, awkwardly hugging the perimeter as Orchid feasted.

The raven cackled, as its woolly throne, below its talons, sat itself. The fowl fluttered its wings waiting to strike a chord of balance and vigilance, in case enemies were to unexpectedly recede back into the camp.

It was an odd scene.

The bear did not seem to want to throw off the avian shawl from his left shoulder, imbibed with the need to wait for the half-blood to finish his meal. Until complete, the sailor remained eager to send again Judgment into the heavens as a flapping guillotine.

Or better yet, a soaring omen for those perceptive of their impending hunt.

The fate of Brannor's final shot would never be known to the adventurers, for both it and the man it had been shot after quickly vanished into the lengthy plantlife of the plains. Now that the fight was over, it was surprisingly tranquil here. Few sounds by small wildlife, some crackling from the already dying fire and no other signs of the cult than the pile of weapons the man of the wilds set out to inspect.

To his dismay, there did not seem to be anything important among the steel. Two scimitars and an equal amount of shortswords, all surprisingly well kept as well as a single shortbow and a quiver with seventeen arrows remaining. They would next turn their attention to the one briefly captured man, noting that he had been wearing simple leather armour with merely a few pieces of cloth tugged into some pockets, all of it ragged, none bloodied. Few carried a smell of oil. Past that there laid a couple of pouches next to his current position, right where the people had been sitting earlier. The contents of these pouches equalled, totalled together, twenty-eight coins of silver.

Orchid's interest had been on the bird they had been roasting, and unfortunately for him the hirelings of the cult had not been the greatest of chefs out there: While some of the surface flesh was charred, a fair deal of it was also undercooked. These people were not used to cooking fowl, it seemed. Yet the question of the green barely clothed man could not have been more on point: What would they be up to now?


@Lucius Cypher@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Norschtalen@Gordian Nought@Ryonara

Parum turned away at the last second before she saw the arrow sink into the man's head. She really wondered just who was the villains here. She understood Kyra's anger, it just... It just didn't seem right. Perhaps it was because Parum was a coward and naive, but surely they didn't need to execute him. He wanted to leave and even told them what he knew. But Parum held her tongue in check. She couldn't stomach these actions but neither could she defy them. Kyra soon moved onto the subject of infiltrating the cultists somehow. Brannor mentioned how they'll need disguises as Orchid filled Brannor in about what the man had told them. Parum tried to put aside her disgusted thoughts and come up with a solution herself. "The... The cult. There doesn't really seem to be a uniform of any sorts." Parum walked towards the pile of weapons that the mercenaries had left unattended. She kicked over a few trying to see if there was anything unique about them, but she was certain they were simply weapons, nothing more nothing less.

"They are a large enough band, they wouldn't notice a few new faces. And the man had mentioned that a black-haired woman with a purple robe had hired them. We can use that to explain why we're there, as well as someone to watch out for. If you let me do the talking I can try and deceive them as we go into their camp, scout the area. Only... There's the matter of Brannor." Parum turned to face the rugged warrior. He had faced Cyanwrath the cult's champion, and had unsed some sort of unmistakable power as well. If anyone from the attack at Greenest recognized him, it would be difficult for Parum to talk her way out. "Because Brannor faced Cyanwrath, he may be recognized. We can try to hide him with a hood, but it would not be easy if anyone knows his face, or worse, if we run into Cyanwrath ourselves. Unless... Unless we take Brannor prisoner."

Parum pondered this line of thinking. She didn't like making plans with many moving parts. One mistake and the whole operation is destroyed. However if this works out, then they could get into the cult to spy on them, and get out with none the wiser. "We can pose as mercenaries and take Brannor as our prisoner. Say that we found him stalking the army. If they are taking villagers and others like Master Leosin, then surely they have a prison. Once there we can try and free the prisoners as well as Leosin, or at least get closer to the heart of the cult's dragon hatchery." Looking at the others Parum tried to think who among them would make for convincing sellswords. Orchid for certain; an orc warrior would be a dime-a-dozen for mercenary types. Even if he is a bit dim it would be just in and orc's character to let the more charismatic, intelligent halfling do the talking for them. Torus also seemed to have a bit of an edge for a druid, as if he was no stranger to this sort of business. He could pose as a mercenary mage perhaps. Kyra would be more difficult, not only due to her grudge against the cultist, but the fact that she was a pink-haired elf who was at Greenest. Kyra could use some of her magic to disguise her hair at least, that way no one would immediately recognize her.

"As for you question Orchid, first we must find the camp and infiltrate it. We find Master Leosin and confirm if he is dead or alive. If he lives, we try and find out more about what he knows of the cult. If he is dead, then we try and find out about the cult ourselves."

@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Hekazu@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen

Kyra glanced down at the deadman when Brannor mentioned they didn't have the time. Perhaps he was right. Kyra had simply said this to satisfy her own anger. Try to show her enemy some measure of respect to justify her ruthless killing. But it mattered very little now, he was merely another deadman in these woods. Kyra imagined that there will be many more to come. When Brannor had asked what the mercinary had said Orchid explained it in a few words, followed by Parum giving a much longer explanation about how they could infiltrate the cult. She basically said everything that Kyra would have thought of, minus taking Brannor as a prisoner. Kyra didn't like the idea of keeping of their front line warriors bound and defenseless, certainly not against these cultists. Though Kyra did knew a few knot techniques she could use to "Bind" Brannor's hands, but that he could easily escape from. They were meant to hold animals, but against a human with opposable fingers, the knots would be easy to undo even from behind one's back.

"Aside from posing Brannor as a prisoner it seems like a good idea. We have no idea what we're facing yet so we need to find this camp and scout it out. Get an idea of the enemy's forces, how many of them are true believers and who is just a sell sword, as well as where the dragon hatchery is located. Finding Leosin is also vital. If he is as strong as the monks say he is I'm sure that he is still alive. He may be in danger though. I'm... Not confident about playing the part of a cultist or mercenary. Perhaps I should be the prisoner instead? Brannor isn't wearing the same armor as he wore when he fought Cyanwrath, and he can hide his features with his cloak and hood. I also know a few knot techniques used to hold animals. But against someone with fingers, I can easily undo my own knots and use magic to fight if we are in danger."

Plucking the arrows from the man's stash and adding them to his own, Brannor thumbed through the rest of the goods, those ragged and those not. He soon found the pouch of silver pieces, hefting it in his hand and judging it, it felt as though it was a fair amount of coin, to which he dumped into his own stock for the time being; there would be time to come in sorting out their pickings, now wasn't it. Instead it was time for him to respond to his company, whom he had nodded to now and then as they spoke while he did his grim work.

"I fear that even if we did take our priestess 'prisoner' I would be too easily noted." The deep voice replied at last, looking to the young women, then off to the half-blood warrior, browsing them with primeval golden eyes, "While I am not fond of being in bonds and without my arms it is safer than the other option for the rest of you."

The man stood to his full height, dusting his gloved hands off before looking back to the rest of the casualties. "My only advice is you pick pieces here and there from their stock to mirror them in camouflage and we leave for their camp."

Typical of his demeanor, Brannor added nothing more beyond that and returned to his habit of surveying the distance for any threats their eyes might not have seen earlier. His spirit doubted anyone else would be upon this rolling wilderness, especially with how ill prepared these men were and how their kobold allies broke rank at breakneck pace. Cowardice at its finest, a quality this cult seemed to display in spades. Contrarily, courage and sacrifice knew no bounds here apparently for if it were not the huntsman posing, it would have been the youthful Chauntean cleric that volunteered herself to be put in harm's most likely way.

Yet, something spoke to him on a new, more strange level; that he was confident that Shepard was correct, at least about the monk. If he was going to be taken as prisoner, as it seemed, then he would most likely find the missing man in the process - one who was competent and capable, at last more than most.


@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen

The group had some sort of a plan for themselves and while both of the potential fake captives were ready to act on it, Brannor delivered a convincing argument for himself. Kyra would get her chance too, if she so insisted, but at least the warrior of the wilds would be bound for the time being. With time passing every moment and daylight being such a limited commodity, especially with their late wake up call after last night's combat, the Greenest's defenders continued on their path towards the base camp of the cult.

The path was as easy to follow as it had been when they hadn't yet diverged from it and they could continue tracking the enemy force without any difficulty. What alerted them this time was not a trail of smoke however, but the piece of knowledge relayed to them by their momentary captive: There would be a rear guard set up about a mile from their position. They were approximately 100 yards away from a jutting rock formation when an idea struck both Torus and Kyra. That place would be perfect for an ambush.

The group stopped their advance for the moment and would need to establish a strategy for this obstacle. There was no reason to believe the rear guard would not be there or somewhere immediately nearby, but how would they be dealing with it? Surely simply marching through would be unlikely to work out in their favour?


@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Norschtalen@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Ryonara

The side of the ursine brute rose its front left claws as it halted the troupe, breaking the outlook of the opaque belt of the horizon before their ensuing trek.

The druid saw something, but required the eyes of clouds to enumerate his suspicions.

The ashen familiar, registering the signal of the paw, flashed phosphorescent feathers full of dark flight, issuing into the naked sky above. Judgment's wings flickered into the heavens, the sleeping blue which wrapped the earth with its breathy maw. The fowl would have to gather intel, alone, as it elusively severed the range with its master’s mystical visual connection.

The bear, with a lively grunt, turned and revealed its stratagem upon the compressed soil, audibly drawing the scheme afore the company. Talons revealed two etch marks on parallel sides representing a pair, flanking either direction of the enemy's pavilion, depicted as a circle. The square in the middle materialized as the paw beat the transcendent thorax and again pointed at the quadrangular polygon, suggesting self, buried in the symbol of the rectangle. Its long legs, supporting the broad furry back, reflexively fidgeted into a more comfortable position, intermittently, while crouching, immersed in the devices of drawing arrows. The bear up the middle, while each duo verging the lateral skirts of the elliptical campsite.

The dirty ruse was complete.

The sailor only lingered for the avian’s return.

The bear's antics would be very likely to draw the attention of the others who already had stopped for a moment. Judgement took off, flying to, around back from the place that was supposedly the location of the rear guard and the information they brought to the Druid was quite clear in nature. There were multiple people, at least as many as seven if not more. Unlike the ragtag folk they had seen before, these ones were most definitely alert and would spot anyone trying to approach them, one even following the movements of the familiar for a moment as it flew above them. A possible predator from below drove the bird back.

It could tell a few things of the rearguard. They were prepared to intercept anyone approaching through the army had taken, they were indeed on high alert and they were all wearing matching clothing with each of them dressed in a black leather tunic and to top it off the lot had copious amounts of spears and other throwable weapons at the ready. To walk in would be a fool's errand.


@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Norschtalen@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Ryonara

Orchid had taken it upon himself to relieve the bandits of their meal back at their camp. No sense in letting good food go to waste after all. They had nothing in their belongings that Orchid was particularly interested in either and as Brannor had said, they did not have time to bury the dead. Best they could do was perhaps sanctify their corpses, but that wasn't something Orchid was capable of. Eventually the group settled into some sort of an agreement about how to approach the cultist's camp, though Orchid wasn't entirely privy. He just knew that he was suppose to be the muscle, which suited him just fine. Leave the complicated thinking to others. Even if he tried, his plans would be half-baked or illogical.

As they party moved onward about a mile away they came to a stop. Orchid had a good feeling why; the prisoner had mention a rear guard at about this distance, and this location looked like the perfect ambush spot. Orchid could tell because if he had to find a hiding spot for prey, this would be where he would do it at. Wide open area for a clear shot, but the advantage of cover and high ground to prevent the enemy from retaliating. Orchid wasn't too keen on using his shortbow either, so if they do get caught he'd need to close the distance or end up a pin cushion. And while Orchid was no coward, he knew the rest of the party wanted to get to the camp. Fighting these ambushers weren't that high of a priority. And if things do go badly at the camp, they need to be at their full strength.

Katalmach crouched low to the ground and looked around. They were still in the forest, in his element. As an outlander figuring out the terrain when on a hunt was just as important as knowing what your quarry was. If the party asked for it, Orchid could easily find them a path around these enemies and they may continue on their journey. It may take some extra time, but they'd be able to go without wasting resources on a big fight. "What do? Fight? Run? Orchid say run. Go around. Find big camp."

"What do? Fight? Run? Orchid say run. Go around. Find big camp."

"It all depends on what the old man has to say." Brannor began in a low, slightly hushed tone as he turned to face Orchid at an angle, then away as he looked to the remarkable enchantment of form that was Torus as a great bear.

His attention, rightfully so, shifted up and over, walking the environment from corner to corner, edge to edge. It all was suspicious, that it felt as though it were a trap; one reasonably laid by an enemy who likely expected them to be coming. After all, the knight of the wild could only guess that the Draconic beast he fought with the night before was not a fool - at least not enough to assume a thing such as himself dead. Nature's power was certainly not one that feeble, not in the slightest.

"Let us hope the eyes on the wing above told him more than we can see now..." He continued, huffing lowly with a prolonged exhale through his nose; just being here, close on the trail of the enemy, was unsettling. In all other circumstances the wilder would have just gone around, but this was not his choice, at least not alone that was.

"... but do not expect miracles."

Brannor added, noting the fair priestess of Chauntea in particular. Not as a blow against her, but a realistic expectation. Even someone, something, with his gifts would not be so bold or foolish to assume there was not danger lying in wait wherever would be worst for them.

Being suspicious was always the safest choice.

@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen

The ursine companion flapped softly onto the fur of its master's haughty shoulder. The meek wings folding inward, the evolutionary involution of a species removed and above the physical restraints of this earth.

Seven. At least.

This confidential knowledge would likely be no surprise to the divine aspirant of golden eyes. Additionally, the half-orc provided insight to this traveler’s dilemma, by suggesting a circumventing route. His talons again etched the soil, now writing in Common.

Traps ahead. No time for rest. We must go. They are waiting.

The chinless monstrosity soon obeyed the information distributed by the dark avian. His large grizzly cheeks were quivering in a meticulous fashion, masticating the risks and staving off the hunger such a corpus demanded. The path between Kyra and Parum opened, away from the treacherous snare ahead, lurking and lingering behind the ridges of strewn rocks. Reflecting upon his tainted pirate past, the bear ambled past the Hin, towering with enormous arms and legs. The tide of deception was mounting and the time was to swim to a shore of safety.

Torus posited a stance as he glanced over his back past Judgment, waiting for the others to follow suit. The force of his awkward posture seemed fetched, as the druid could not saunter such a pose for long.

He released the glance, bequeathing his hope some would take the offer of a ride without a saddle.

Alas, the inky bird remained by his ear, whispering the pangs of glory and sin.

With the new information at hand and relayed as was best for the Druid in his bear form, it did not take long for the heroes of Greenest to plan out what would happen next. The most important of it all was that they would surely not be going through the pathway between those rocks, that was simply asking for trouble and as much as Kyra wanted to deal it out to the cult that had invaded her home, she too knew that going for such a manoeuvre was simply too risky to even consider. With that option out of the way and turning back definitely out of the question, all that was left was above, below and around. Two of those were eliminated through sheer incapability of performing them, so finally the reached conclusion stated that they would go past the rearguard.

Naturally it was for the best to use the terrain to their advantage, something the group would well know to do. Torus and Brannor were no strangers to nature, and with Parum having some knowledge on these matters from her studies as a bard, they opted to steer clear from the immediate vicinity where it would both be easier to spot the tall grass moving and to step on hard ground by accident. No, the group chose to move safely and as silently as possible, sacrificing perhaps a whole hour to circle around the guard post, but could still find the path easily afterwards. Eyes in the air were of great help in this process, that much had to be given to Judgement's credit though. Now having set back upon the path made by the army, the heroes kept their eye out for trouble, but would not encounter further problems until a strange, rocky plateau came to view.

No mistake was possible: The plateau was, if nothing else, shielding the sides of the path that had been taken. There was a small wooden tower built near the entrance into the pass, and it was necessary too if one wanted higher ground. The plateau itself was way too tall for anyone from the top of it to be able to fight effectively against anyone at the bottom, with maybe the exception of the accurate marksman. They'd have to get closer to be really able to tell the height of it, but the tower appeared quite short in comparison. Was this the camp? Or was this merely another ambush? The small pillars of smoke rising from beyond the natural walls would hint towards the former.


@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Ryonara

The trek around the dangerously tall grass was time consuming, but much to their fortune at least half their number had some sort of tie to the wild heart and it made what might well have amounted to a major delay into one quite minor. This was a welcome distraction from what the paladin knew was coming before him, a test of his self and resolve. It was not that he could not escape his bonds if need be, or at least as he had been told, but that he was to be roped and bound at all. This was a motion of trust and sacrifice, one he truly hoped would let him seek out this missing man they so needed, this "Leosin" and if at all possible, strike a blow against this cult. What that was to be Brannor did not know, rather he prayed to the ferine pool within him, that ethereal might, that it would make it clear if at all possible; as distinct a beacon as the dawn itself.

Surveying now where the path led them, what he beheld did not rouse much additional confidence. Whatever this place was, with its smoky pillars billowing ash into the otherwise pristine air, certainly did not belong; it reeked of outside influence in what amounted to otherwise rocky grassland. Yet, all the same, the outlander doubted if this was the camp and not just a camp. As it was their foe was ramshackle, some ugly force made up scaled beasts and filthy, coin-loving men, headed off by zealots sworn to some unheard of queen. All of its business roused nothing but disdain in Brannor's heart, at least he was certain of that.

"Is this it?" The huntsman inquired, looking to the halfling and the young woman, trusting them to know better of what this camp was to have been than he, the bear-man and the half-blood orc.

Folding his arms, leather rubbing against the chain links across his chest, he returned to staring at the scene before them as distant as it was. Clearly of the many things he took confidence in, that the Silver Lady would see their deeds through, this turn of events was not what he imagined. When they said "army" Brannor imagined some great sea of tents, smoke, fire, steel and wood, some force of reckoning bearing down on the land headed by a cult of draconic fools... not this, not some strange rocky plateau with but a seeming tower resting atop it.

With a determine sigh and shake of his head from side to side in disapproval, he added, "Then we might as well make ourselves ready... assuming the intent is to still walk myself into the camp as a captive."

The golden eyes warily observed their reactions thereafter.

@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen

Parum had been very quiet the entire journey. She had just been lost in her own thoughts. She's been trying to think of some plan to get them through this crazy mission. Somehow make it through here alive. Everyone seems so confident in their abilities but she wonders if they realize the sheer scope of what they were trying to accomplish. This wasn't just some band of thieves menacing a village. It wasn't even just an army passing by. They were messing with a deranged cult with actual goddamn dragons. Parum knew that she had been dwelling on this for far too long, but at the same time she couldn't stand the fact that they literally have no solution to this. All they're doing is moving from one objective to the other, hoping for the best. That didn't suit Parum well.

At the potential ambush site Parum also remained quiet, uncertain if the enemy could hear them from this distance. If they did, they did not react as they moved around the ambush site and bypassed them without any trouble. With that danger pass Parum tried to focus on the task at hand. They reached a plateau of some sort, with only scant evidence of any "army" or group of that sort. A couple smoke stacks and a watch tower of sorts. The chances that this wasn't the camp was possible, but thinking about it, Parum was certain this is where they needed to be. It may not look like much of a camp. But this would be the perfect place for a dragon's nest. "I think this is the place. If not their main camp, than at least somewhere important. We'll take Brannor as our 'prisoner' while the rest of us act like mercenaries. Torus, Orchid, I'm sorry to say this but I need you two to play the part of dumb muscle. Kyra, just be quiet and broody. Let me do the talking." Parum's dress was a bit flamboyant for a harden merc, but at the same time just barely practical enough to at least be seen as something more than a dandy. Once they had Brannor looking like a prisoner, Parum was ready to try her hand at deception.

Silence was a renowned virtue of the old man.

His furry hide crouched further, low to the ground, as a symbol of understanding and as a humble mount for the half-blood, who now bore the weapons of the imprisoned Brannor. The shouldered raven, crowed smugly, a two worded accommodation to Orchid, suggesting the relevance of such a gesture.

"Ride well."

The juxtaposition of green atop brown not only provided a further semblance of camouflage, but the image of a Ranger with its animal companion, providing visible audacity and veracity to the hunt of the Ferine paladin. The beast of burden, as he was, lugging still the hamartia and catharsis of the crazed Xaron and her vile deeds, hummed gratitude between his clenched jaws. She would have usurped such an enterprise with hubris and unpredictability. Alas, the demon that possessed a portion of his unforgivable soul had vanished into the whispers of his hibernating mind. His peripeteia, at the hands of Kyra's master, was a gracious serendipity bestowed by Chauntea. The anagnorisis was phenomenally vivid as the bear lay prostate, worshipping the ground in which free-will and imposed obedience had warred and survived.

Standing and hoisting the barbarian aloft, the druid allowed the verdant warrior to command his trek, to cement the guise of this elaborate ruse.

@Ryonara@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Hekazu@Lucius Cypher

The party bypassed the ambush. Orchid had no problems with this, made things simpler for him anyways. Orchid liked simple. Eventually they arrived to a big rocky place with smoke and towers. It looked like a camp to Orchid. Parum said that it was now time to use their disguises. She asked Orchid and Torus to just be dumb muscle, a term that Orchid didn't really understand. But he can be a big scary guy with a sword, which is effectively what Orchid needed to do. Orchid took Brannor's weapons since he was going to be their prisoner, as well as tied up his hands. Orchid knew a few hunting knots too; for an animal with hooves or paws they would be impossible to get out of, but anyone with fingers could undo them with their eyes clothes. If Brannor needed to he could easily get out himself, if no one cuts him free beforehand.

Next was getting to the camp. Orchid tried his best to pump himself up and look the part of an intimidating sellsword. He was a half-orc with a big sword, which should be intimidating enough. But then Torus gave Orchid a wonderful idea. "Yes!" Orchid wasted no time mounting Torus. He's never ridden an animal before. But he felt like a champion. "Ah yeah! Alright 'prisoner', let's go!" Orchid played his role well as she tugged Brannor forward behind Parum. Orchid looked eager to ride Torus and quickly adapted to his roll. Orchid tries his best to look intimidating as they approach.

Given the conflict between the Bard and the Priestess, it came as a slight surprise that the priestess would accept what Parum was telling them, that being her simply staying quiet and 'brooding' as she put it. She crossed her arms and opened her mouth, ready to break out in an argument... but she didn't. She shut her mouth, dusted off her gear and commented with a brief message of approval. It was both important that they would get there soon and without a hitch, and her rising an argument would help neither of those goals. She would follow along with the plan, for the good of Greenest. For the good of her home.

The final approach towards the area proved to go off without a hitch with nobody harassing the group as they approached. Some people passed them on their way away, most giving a passing glance to Orchid and Torus, some shaking their head afterwards but going on, others stopping and staring in disbelief. If nothing else, the combination drew attention to itself. Whether that was called for or not, that was what it did.

From the entrance, they already had a good view into the plateau's governed area and could indeed establish that this was the camp they had been looking for. From where they were standing, the area opened quite large, the horseshoe shaped plateau offering it surprisingly large amount of space. At the front many leather and hide covered tents were pitched, kobolds heading in and out of them and they could see that the 20 foot high guard tower near the entrance was manned by the little lizards. They left the group well and truly alone, but somebody donned in a green cloak and leather armour approached them and tried to address them. "Hey, I don't really know about bringing that bear in... I see you have a prisoner and all and I trust you know the procedure but come on. An animal going loose in the camp ain't a thing to take lightly", the man told them.

Parum would have a word with him though, aptly convincing them of the bear's tameness, to which the man shrugged. "I guess. Ain't my business if you get in trouble though. Any higher up goes saying bad things about it and it's all on you a'ight? Good. Go on", they revealed their true indifference, most likely being one more of the hired help for the camp. Now that they were here, they could not that the traffic in and out was hardly regulated at all. Marching in with appropriate disguises had been a smart move. Look like you belong, and nobody will question you.

The valley in the 'horseshoe' extended at least one thousand feet until it reached the back wall, and from this distance one could barely make out the mouth of a cave. Not too far to the left of it was a much bigger tent, guards swarming around it, most likely something important. Further to the left, about 80 feet up from the ground if they had to guess was another guard tower, standing on a ledge protruding from the plateau. There had to be a ladder there somewhere, no? Whatever was in these lower parts was mostly tents, but a lot was covered by the bustling masses and the housing. If they were to find anything here, they would need to go looking.


@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Ryonara

It took Rebrer all of about thirty seconds to realise that these new folks were not who they seemed they were. Rather than his normal getup, he was also wearing the hooded cloak and leather armour like the rest of the hired hands. The hood served the dual purpose of keeping himself hidden, and his bow hidden. His rapier was at his hip, although his tools and rucksack were hidden away where he slept. He had quickly learned that if he kept the hood up and kept a distance, most of the guards wouldn't even bother saying hello.

Of course, this new group threw all of that into flux. Running a hand through his hair, he tried to determine who the leader of thr group was. Or the head. They were the same thing, he was pretty sure.

That wasn't the point though. As much as he would appreciate backup, he had already spent time getting to know the place, and this party was the last thing that he needed. They certainly weren't more hired help, so he felt somewhat safe approaching them, the man who had stopped them already turning away.

Rightfully not fond of his bonds or how he found himself deep in the den of the enemy with them, the man watched with biting eyes while one of the mercenaries who approached them turned his back. This entire pit that they called home was crawling with their number and their inability to recognize outsiders mayhap to be the only saving grace to arise. However, what drove the man more mad was that they had dedicated to this plot with the bear guise; Brannor had not the faintest why they elected this, assuming they knew something he did not, and kept his jaw firmly shut in place of making a scene or talking. That was likely to arouse more suspicion than the tremendous brown beast it seemed.

Flexing his hands some, seeing that they were preparing to delve deeper into the smoky camp, he chose to ever so slightly test the bonds; never likely from here on out be a better time to risk that after all.

He prayed to the wild heart inside, an internal voice to act as his guide in this time of new and unusual trial - far more strange than anything else he knew. Anoint me with the strength from within, the means to stay myself and be at peace when before me and around me, all I can witness is this evil. I cannot stand idle forever, but I am patient like the other great works of nature. Continue to grant me this, Mother of the Moon.

It was not long into his dive for the heart of himself and what he was that he witnessed more company. As he so requested, he proved more patient in this too, feigning to pay no mind and instead survey where next the might be taking him. Not to forget of course where next to look for this missing monk, but he did expect far more captives in truth.

If memory serves, the little scaled wretches of the night before had a habit of surrounding and spiriting away people when they could.


@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen