Krets did little else than nod along, occasionally taking in the purple coloured haze his pipe produced and pushing it out from the opposite corner of his mouth after a few seconds. He could actually see a bit of himself in the demeanour of this pink haired woman. Sometimes looks could be deceiving. On a cursory look, this person would not be expected to behave this way. But he couldn't let that throw him off his game.

So, she had the skill of a healer when she needed to have it, but she preferred to not use it. The bow she wielded was her tool of choice, she claimed, as well as that she did not care of others in the group as long as they kept themselves out of trouble. Her behaviour during her time in the camp seemed to match just as well. "I see", Krets nodded one last time once Kyra finished her piece. "Then how about the prisoner your group brought into the camp? Surely you must be aware that the man served as the 'champion' to the people of Greenest just the night before? How did you manage to subdue him? I've heard he is quite the combatant." His tone had turned to something almost gossipy as he moved from one subject to another, but his unchanging pose and demanding gaze let the priestess know that he still expected an answer.

@Norschtalen

These pressing questions were annoying. If she was going to be interrogated they should have done it while she was at the tent, not in the middle of the open like this. Kyra would've liked to do literally anything else but talk to this man, especially by herself. Still, the sour mood help her image as an equally sour mercenary. "I barely know anything about him beyond what I've seen these past few days. He's a fool who fought a battle he could not possibly win." Kyra said with a hint of sadness. She had to hide it quickly however and spoke up. "Noble but a meaningless. Not even certain why you all covert his skills. From what I hear, he didn't even last that long against your champion. He certainly wasn't too difficult for my group to handle." Kyra snorted and turned away from Krets.

"If you're done obsessing over some prisoner or my party, I'm going to go get something to eat. Perhaps I'll be more cordial once I have a few pints in me."

@Hekazu

Come the end of Kyra's outburst, Krets chuckled genuinely. Alcohol, bah. Weakness. Besides, asking a single question about one matter was hardly obsession. She was hiding something and wanted the conversation to end as soon as possible. The investigator would humour her, not exactly intent on returning to speak with her. He had received all that he had been intending to get out of her. "No, that would be it. See, it wasn't so hard now, was it?" He shook his pipe and turned around himself, preparing to head off to heavens know where, though through the direction from which Parum happened to following the conversation. To her luck, the investigator would seem lost in thought as he passed her, smoking his pipe absent mindedly as he moved on.

---

To the disappointment of Kyra, however, Krets would later be seen entering the food tent, though for whole another reason. A few arrangements were made and, if willing, Orchid and 'Torag' would find themselves guided into a crude table where the investigator stared at them from the other side. "I've heard you took prisoner the so called 'champion' of Greenest. A commendable feat. If rumours are to be believed, one of you was a bear at the time to boot. Most extraordinary. I would like you to answer a few questions about the whole situation for me, though", he would set the ground for this discussion to be had.


@Norschtalen@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought

Orchid was enjoying a gristly flank of venison when Kret's came in. Orchid's mood was originally fairly jovial until he came in, as even Orchid could recognize that this guy was their new inquisitor (Not that Orchid knew what an inquisitor was). He tore off some meat with his teeth and gave the man a dull stare. "Hrgn. Orchid eating! Talk later, eat more." Orchid then downed a swig of water. Orchid didn't abide by the booze they had here, mainly because Orchid wasn't much of a drinker. He's been spoiled by the clean water his teachers could provide him. "Chewy meat. Bad meat. But food is food." Orchid had wished he had pocketed some of those better cuts of meat when he was butchering game out back.

Gazing and grazing over the recent game garnered, the druid's brows, both relaxed and in control, soon eyed Krets, wading through the crowd with the mess tent to their specific table. A venue of food was a subtle accommodation for an even more keen inquisition. The verbal investigation centered strangely around the capture of Brannor.

With a tongue of a bard, Torag returned the answer in Draconic, in boastful demonstration of their apparent alliance.

“We simply took advantage of an opportunity, after the man’s defeat by the claws of Lord Langdedrosa Cyanwrath. Why does he harvest even the title Champion?”

The wizened pirate was well aware that either a kobold or a cultist must have returned to the encampment, spreading rumors of a bear and an orc attacking their miniscule faction outside of Greenest. The question returned back to the prosecutor’s venue, allowing Orchid to follow or discern any hint of such a disparity.

@Lucius Cypher@Hekazu

Krets gave Orchid a wrathful glare, though his mood seemed to improve considerably when his question would actually receive an answer from Torus. "A peculiar case, weren't they? You were there for his fight against Cyanwrath, weren't you? I heard that was quite a show by our good commander. Makes one wonder how they were out and about again so soon", he shared almost jovially as two tankards were placed on the table before the people he was interrogating. He himself received one as the cultist serving them made it to the other side of the table in turn, though with the difference that his was pure water. Krets had picked his poison, and that was not booze.

He gave Orchid another sideways glance before returning to the clearly more co-operative Torus: "I would prefer you to keep it to the language I decided to converse in. It is considered rude to change in the middle of everything, at least where I come from. Now, if you would tell me, why? Your goals do not exactly seem to align with this... Parum. Why do you follow her? She seems like the type of gal who would abandon the cause if she found anything she deemed more profitable. You, on the other hand, preach the name of the Queen of Dragons."

@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought

As orchid tore through his meat he looked over to Torus as he spoke that dragon tongue of his. Orchid had head him speak it, but still couldn't make sense of it. He'd rather have to listen to a scholar's common then draconic. So Orchid elected to ignore the conversation, now finished with his meat and onto the potatoes. When the cultist came by to hand them some drinks orchid took one whiff and sneered in disgust. He didn't want booze, he'd rather drink Kret's water. And Orchid would do so, taking Kret's mug and draining it in one gulp. As for Kret's question, while it was mainly directed to Torus, Orchid elected to speak up as well.

"Parum smart. Parum know what we want. Orchid be strong! So Parum take me here, where strong things are. Torus weird man. Torus want weird things. Dragons and gods and weird dragon gods."

After saying his piece Orchid left the table to get seconds.

"Not only queen." The old man added a spiritual insight to the flattery of Krets. "But scorned mother."

The druid also moved the tankard to the side, for a moment, speaking plainly in Common.

"... banished by her brother, Bahamut, to Avernus, her current solace resides within the Nine Hells. To proclaim her name is to embrace the salvation of perdition. Utterly and completely. To scorch one's identity is to be liberated of purposelessness. It is no longer Torag who should live, but the undying Queen who scalds within this ember."

The double entendre was subtle, hinting both at Xaron's rise to surface of this ancient shell and an apparent connection to evil five headed chromatic dragon.

"Only then, in the bright inferno in one's razed soul, can the flame of avarice bloom and ignite like wildfire across this realm."

The pirate eventually raised the flagon, but held her pursed lips to discern a response.

"To Tiamat's glory."

@Hekazu@Lucius Cypher

The time spent returned to the slave camp had been a welcome reprieve from the rest of the mindless, menial tasks they had set him on. His captor, rather his "liberator" in this case from the failed plot at the hands of a seemingly abusive half blood had taken enough pity on him to return him to a spot to rest. Perhaps it was the man's begrudging respect for a dangerous enemy and the nobility to carry out the duty of a captive or just it was the man cared nothing at all and simply thought the orc-blood to be a buffoon. Either way, it put the outlander at rest, where the first time in a time he came to sit. The taxing attempts on his body, the physical labor, had far from sapped his strength; his power deeper than just the muscle, sinew, and bone that made up the flesh.

But the mind was weary, not just for the reason these people were in bondage, forced to labor and toil likely until death under some dark, scaled evil, yet because the enemy was so near and they were failing to do anything to them. Yet, that was the key component he reiterated to himself time and again, yet. The Pale Lady would provide much earned vengeance on them, this time on other terms... but that was part of the yet. In the meantime, the period of being so much as seated alone, even among the prisoners, some of whom who huddled, others who stared off into the abyss, was a welcome time away from these troubles; it made ignoring the stench of these filthy fiends and their equally vile voices and praises to a dragon all the easier to shutout.

Awaiting closure still, needing to acquire the monk and depart, the huntsman bit his tongue and proved to bide his time until he could feel the leather wrapping of his brutal blade in hand again. To hear its strange edges sing and tear apart these monsters, true monsters; the creatures as the little scaled ones or the void souls of the human cultist, all little more than mockeries with dark hearts.

"All in time." Brannor muttered to himself, resting a forearm atop a knee.

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

As Orchid reached for the goblet of the man chatting with them, Krets slammed his hand on top of it, forcing the half-orc to contest him for the ownership of said water if he really wanted to get into it. Which, in the investigator's honest opinion, would be nothing but a mistake. But since the green brute did not seem to relent, Krets eventually made the decision to be the civilised half here and snorted disapprovingly as the interrogatee did as he pleased. At least they gave an answer to the question before vacating the table, leaving the old druid and the investigator alone for the time being. Krets waved the cult member attending to their needs back to the table and requested another water for himself and began lighting up his pipe again. Why did all of these newcomers do their best to get on his nerves?

Torag's story, on the other hand, had strictly nothing to do with the question asked. It told something about the man's supposed motivations, that it did. But it did not exactly convince Krets of the devotion of this man. It was as if he was trying to ram it down his throat. Granted, that was this camp all together and many of those who interacted with him, trying to impress him. Krets liked the cult leadership for this reason: They didn't do shit like this. He drew in a deep breath from his pipe and breathed out slowly, letting the fumes tint the air before his visage just slightly. The new water arrived just in time for the toast, to which he would nonetheless join. "And for the hoard to befit the Queen's return", he added, holding his pipe on the side as he drank.

Well, he was rather sure of the results he had by now. He stayed for a while longer, long enough for Orchid to return and catch Krets and Torag exchanging a few pleasantries before he would be given the stink eye and Krets would excuse himself, to head to Tiamat only knows where next. The party was left alone for a few hours now though. Long enough for the sun to settle beyond the natural walls of the camp.


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

After the strange man left, Orchid finished off his seconds and took a moment to relax. A fully belly, a day of work, all in all not too bad. He shortly considered the life of banditry for a moment, but his attention was quickly redirected to two other half-orcs sitting nearby. Decent sized; Orchid was a little bit bigger but they might put up a fight too. Orchid had an idea. So he turned to Torus and spoke quietly. "Orchid gunna go. See you later." Standing up Orchid approached the two half-orcs, cracking his neck and stretching his arms as he built up his swagger. "Oi! You two!"

When Orchid approached, one seemed to be talking about some adventure or fight he had. Orchid wasn't really paying attention, he was just going to show him up. "Ya skinny twigs. Sitting around like a bunch of milk drinking louts. Do ya even know which end of a sword to use? Hmph!" Orchid slammed his foot onto the table and leered at the two. "Sticking pigs and plundering peasants ain't da way of a warrior! A real fighter! Ha! I show ya how it's done. You two, come with me. Or do I gotta prove something to ya right now?" Orchid's leer turned angry as he cracked his knuckles again. Each knuckle had an audible pop to them.

"And then... get this, and then!" the younger of the half-orcs approached by Orchid tried to get on with his story but fell victim to a laughing fit, only to then be interrupted more thoroughly by the demanding bellowing of the fellow green skinned newcomer. Someone who apparently had a superiority complex, the older one concluded. That they wouldn't even know which end of a sword to use. Big words from somebody they had never seen.

The young one fell silent, taken aback by the display. If a man like this had an idea for something, perhaps they should follow? Onward to glory! But what was it that this man had in mind? "What is it that we will do?" the young one asked, clearly bewildered by the unorthodox approach by one of their kin. But the beardless long haired young would soon fall silent as the older half-orc with a fuller beard stood up next to Orchid, half-a-head taller than this loud one of no manners.

"Hold it right thar sonny", he called out, clearly to both Orchid and the man that had been in his company. "I dun rememb'r seeing ya in our troop en route to Greenest, or on way back. I dun recall you luggin' a single crate to the new hoard. Yeah, I don't reckon' ya are just here to have us do you's work for ya, are ya? Ya's got a little too little purple on yaself fo' that. Ya wanna order me 'round, you betcha arse ya gon' prove ya got the balls!" The older half-orc crossed his arms and grit his teeth, staring Orchid into his eyes.


@Lucius Cypher

At some point, Parum would gather those she could together. She knew they wouldn't have much time to talk since they were under constant watch, so Parum spoke quickly and quietly. "We can't stay. Tonight we leave with Leosin. I saw him strung up to some sort of post out in the middle of the camp. It'll be hard to get him during the day, but at night we should be able to grab him and go. I know a place we could stake out for a little while, and with any luck I'll have someone nearby we could use to replace Leosin when we free him,
just to keep the cult off our tails for a little while longer. I'm sure once they notice we're gone the entire camp will go into high alert, so we have to do this right the first time." Parum did a quick scan around the area for anyone listening. She paused for a bit to observe, then continued.

"Torus, I'm going to need you to secure out getaway. See if you could transform yourself or use your bird to find us a route out. Kyra, I need you to be our eyes. If anyone might spot us, I need you to distract them. I don't care how. We also need to save Brannor, though I'm hoping Orchid can take care of that. Lastly if possible... I want to free the other slaves. I can't say we can bring them back to Greenest, but at least if they're free they might have a chance to escape. Or a chance to distract the other bandits for us. Parum said almost in one entire breath. She kept darting her eyes back and forth to make sure there wasn't anyone eaves dropping before leaning back and resuming her casual demeanor. "That's pretty much it. If you have any better ideas, I'm all ears."

After the camaraderie of the half-bloods ceased, the druid eventually gleaned the plotted words from their crew's make-shift leader. The blue haired Hin deliberated a coalescing scheme in lieu of dusk fall, to deliver Leosin whilst exchanging a mirrored faux in his stead.

However, the exit stratagem apparently required further reconnaissance.

"On it, Parum. Allow a cat to nip this for us."

The pirate quickly turned into a dark corner near the mess hall, hopefully away from prying eyes, transforming into a tiny, black feline. The charcoal avian, Judgment, who continued to glide above, began to guide its masked master, by way of paw and fur to the missing monk.

@Hekazu@Ryonara

Kyra listened to Parum's plan and nodded her head. She was getting tired of sitting around on her thumbs anyways. "Works for me. I think I might know where you're talking about, so I'll keep eyes out on anyone looking for us." Before everyone would leave Kyra took her fingers to her lips and made a whistle that sounded like a bird call. "My father taught me that for hunting. It's a bird call we use to signal when we found prey. I'll use it to let you know if anyone might be coming." Kyra could do a few more whistles, but without some time to let them listen to each one they probably wouldn't realize the subtle differences between them. Or at least everyone but Torus wouldn't. He seems to know his way around animals.

As the group split up Kyra left the tent to keep an eye around the camp. See how many people were coming and who might be eying her and her team. She knew there were a few so she kept an eye on them and needed to think of a few ways to distract them when it was time. Perhaps setting a tent on fire or poisoning the water. Something big that would need their attention. Kyra had a slight smile on her face just thinking about it but then she hid it. She can't let her intentions be known. Yet.

"Ah?"Orchid turned his eye to the large, older orc who didn't seem so easily cowed. Good, Orchid had hoped for something like this. He squared up to the older orc, intimidated by the size difference. Orchid's grin turned into a snarl and there was a look of challenge in his eyes. "I fought the champion of Greenest. Came looking for this army, found him after her slaughtered a whole gang of your warriors! Only needed my sword and my bear to defeat him. Aye, I hear he put up quite a fight against this army. Fought the boss himself. But I took him down, no problem. So what've you been doing, eh!?" Orchid glared into the older orc's eyes, daring him to speak up again. Orchid was half tempted to smash his forehead right into the orc's big mouth.


@Hekazu

The older half-orc drummed his fingers against his left bicep as Orchid issued his challenge to him. "It does not a great warrior take ta take down sumbody who's beaten already. I was thar wen boss-ragon took 'im down. Now he's a man ta follow. Not ya, sonny", he retorted disapprovingly, seeming top actually start to influence the opinion of the younger half-orc just as well. The tactic employed by the hero of Greenest didn't exactly seem to work on this man. "If beatin' a beaten man is wha makes ya a hero, ya can forget it."

Though it was at that moment that the other half-orc Orchid had found raised an eyebrow. It was as if he disagreed with something that had been said, but wouldn't quite dare put it into words. However, it was quite a small gesture. Whether Orchid would notice it, let alone be able to capitalise on it, that relied on his skill on reading social cues. And considering his bringing up, that might actually be a challenge.

---

While Judgement would not notice anything out of the ordinary from its high perch in the sky, Kyra came to realise something. Most of the people of the camp did not seem to mind the group much if at all, but as time progressed the more elaborately dressed ones would begin to take sideways glances at them more and more often. If she shared this with Parum, she could confirm that most of these people were "Dragonclaws", as evidenced by the fact they wore similar clothing to the Stern fellow from earlier who had set acolyte Davis to work with the halfling.

Brannor would also "enjoy" increased safety measures, in the form of one or two additional guards seemingly following him around as reinforcements to the usual assigned to the job. The exact amount shifted depending on the presence of other guards at the time, but luckily enough they weren't exactly trying to keep hidden. Any of his allies could realise this, though as per usual the guards did not seem too interested in looking after something seemingly not problematic.



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

The hunter paid little mind to his two accompany "fellows", if anything he kept to himself and spoke little. Whatever work they told him to do, he simply did without complaint or protest, following exactly to the detail; no questions asked, no information given. It seemed to do well the trick as it were, that they only stayed around him out of fear he might be a danger. Rightfully so the tall man, gritty in tactic and technique, was unquestionably a threat in plain sight, of which some knew directly. Few slaves were anything of competent combatants or more and it seemed as one well imagined most were just common folk thrown into the place of thralls.

Performing at a steady pace the outlander never was hasty or urgent in his tasks for them, granting his captors neither the pleasure of his hand at their work nor the joy of reprimanding him for resistance. This too came to give a reward of sorts, that the cult's guards became less and less on edge toward him, until two often became one or he was left under the ward of some other taskmasters. At times Brannor's mind wandered toward exploiting their weakness, when they would be drinking or babbling amongst themselves; that a carelessly left weapon just in reach could be used to cut them down. How tempting it were to strike whenever the back was turned or their lips took in more ale from almost assuredly pilfered goods.

The phrase, "Hurry up." was all that could enter his mind, especially as now and then he noted his companions going about their own work under their own disguises. Some earning strange glances from the more senior cultists, which began to develop a clearer pattern to the hunter; many of these people were undisciplined, but others? Others were not just in this for whatever promise the cult had beyond its dragon and the loot they took, like all of that which they stole from Greenest, but instead followed its dogma. Some actually believed in this madness, this corrupting shadow born under leathery and scaled wings.

It returned him to the felling stroke his hand issued upon one of them but a night before, a memory that only further urged the wilder to pursue this mission more. In fact, it was what spurred him to keep more an eye on them as he toiled.

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

Racing past multiple contrived tents concocted by the roaming and pillaging children of Tiamat, the new form of Xaron, led by the pirate’s familiar, soon dawned upon the prisoner bivouac, where the slave with the gilden gaze of gold was apparently held. Halting her progress, the bard mentally motioned the avian guide to circle above, mainly in the line of sight of the wilder, while she intentionally crossed his stare, intermittently from time to time, hoping to garner his interest and attention.

Once. Twice. Thrice. It was not obvious that the skittish guise could be discerned and diagnosed.

Until recognized, the feline would secure a gentle distance, pawing the earth, placating its dog-piled dirt with the enjoyment of tumbling silt upon itself. The mystical kitmiri would toy with the evident siesta of Torus, engendering the mercantilism of this more youthful figure, and others to come though animistic, as these were more rewarding than the corpus of a frail and slowly fading sailor.

Purr.

Quickly, the soil amalgamated into a purposeful steeple, pointing towards the cobalt bird circling the sky.

Every now and then, whilst guards were distracted or amiss, the reincarnated songster, with closed eyes, wandered the camp as Judgment, hoping to procure and purchase the position of the mousy Leosin with pupils from the heavens, branded by the wish of an inverted Pangur Bán yearning for another's monk.

@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Hekazu

Kyra spent most of her time at the camp's makeshift range, practicing her archery or adjusting her bow. Or at least that's what she wanted the others to think. Not only was she trying to gauge the abilities of most of the camp's soldiers but she was watching out for the party. As more cultist arrived most didn't seem to know much about Kyra and her friends, but she did notice a few individuals who looked more important than your rank-and-file bandit or soldier. Either their robes were more intricate or they had some sort of dragon claw ornament on their person; similar to some members of the camp who ordered around lesser cultists. They could be dangerous but also useful. Their highly notable regalia could be used as a disguise; no one would question someone higher up on the command after all. Kyra would try to find Parum and pass this information along.

"More cultists arrived. A few wearing dragon claws. Looks valuable, don't it?"

As more people arrived Kyra felt goosebumps on he arms. They needed to hurry up and get out of here, and not just because Kyra was growing more and more tempted to sabotage the place. More cultists meant more eyes on them, which will make it harder for them to try and escape. And when night falls, Kyra was certain that one or two people will be specifically assigned to watch over them to make sure they aren't up to anything at night. With nothing else to say Kyra just stayed near Parum for now. She's basically scoped out most of the camp that she could walk around, and later she'll try and get some supplies that could help their escape. Namely some flint-and-steel and maybe an oil flash or two.