From the dust of ages past a new world rises, inheriting the trauma of that which came before. Rends in the earth span miles and spurt the fresh blood of chaotic magics, and the stonework of lost civilizations pushes up from the ground like scar tissue. Around one such scar, its history all but forgotten, is huddled the city of Arskel. To some a dead-end, the last stop on a road to nowhere, to others a shelter for the lost where redemption may yet be found.

From a distance the ruins atop the Cliff struck an imposing silhouette, casting their shadows upon the city beneath, but a closer inspection would reveal their decrepit nature. Vines twisted up through cracks in the crumbling masonry, and much of what remained was supported by the wooden beams of the shanty town that crowded the base of the stonework. Yet in spite of its appearance, it bustled with life. Some stalked its narrow alleys with concealed blades and ill intent, but others stuck together. Gathered around communal fires, they shared what little they had amongst each other and blessed the coming day.

Below, fishing boats had already begun to ply the waters from the Lake district. The morning's catch lay fresh upon tables and in stalls, waiting to be sold or salted. A short distance to the south, uphill and upwind, lay the walled off Gold Quarter of the Lake district. Every inch of the district was in use, while the streets were broader and better maintained than elsewhere in the city, the decadent homes of the wealthy were slotted together as tightly as the more austere portions of the city. The guard here remained on a vigilant patrol against the vagrants that called Arskel their home, and the clubs at their side were typically well-worn.

Beginning on the northern edge and running through the heart of the city was a single artery that connected Arskel to what many considered to be the greatest civilizations the world had to offer, the Road. Nestled between the two extremes, this is where the majority of the citizens resided and carried out their day to day affairs. The streets were crowded by foot traffic, with a rare few mounts and beasts of burden being led by travelers.

At the center of the Road district stood the Wayfarer's Guild, the largest and most renowned guild in Arskel, and in fact the region as a whole. A modest perimeter wall enclosed the compound which housed the main hall, a central tower with two wings extending to the east and south respectively. Several smaller structures that served other miscellaneous functions also lined the inner walls. Today the initiates who had gathered from around Olanthus to seek a new life would begin their trials to become true Wayfarers. Each of them had already been to the guild hall before and been approved by Oswynn Caragan, Junior Vice-Captain in charge of initiation. Some time today, each of them had also received their summons.

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Coming through the gates of the compound, the eastern wing of the guildhall was a tall, single-story structure built into the wall it abutted. The three initiates, two elves and one stone dwarf, had been led by an adept into what appeared to be a common area wihin that wing. The high-ceilinged chamber could comfortably seat dozens at the scattered wooden tables distributed haphazardly throughout the room. For the moment, there were only a few groups using the area, having drinks and going over plans in a casual manner. Some had scrolls rolled out on the table and were leaning over them, pointing and commenting in voices that couldn't be heard from where the group stood.

At a table near the entrance, a dainty ice-gnome in polished armor sat nursing a tankard of what was likely ale.

"Good morning! I'm so glad you all- Oh, there's only three of you?" Her expression went from chipper, to disappointed before bouncing back again. "Never mind that, I'm your handler, Kiska! And you are?"



Finn found himself in one of the guild's briefing rooms. It was a rather bare room with none of the adornments that were typical of the southern wing. These plain briefing rooms were typically used for initiations, which he would know considering he had gone through this process himslf several years ago. In the center there was a round wooden table with sturdy chairs, and a shuttered window looked out onto the training squares in the guild courtyard. Other than that the room was empty, that is except the two new faces to the guild, hoping perhaps to find fame and fortune, or maybe accomplish more mundane goals? There was no way for him to know yet.

What Finn might have noticed, however, is that there was supposed to be a Handler with him. He had been told that he would be filling a spot on an initiation assignment, as there had been an unusual number of no-shows, but he had yet to be briefed on exactly what that assignment was.



On the other side of the common area from the first team, a faun stood at the head of another table with a red-skinned figure beside him. Although he was attired in simple robes, his bearing was calm and confident, almost regal. He made a polite gesture for the initiates to sit as they arrived, but whether or not they chose to he continued.

"Welcome to the Wayfarer's Guild, I hope you find it to your liking. I'm your handler, Suran Reshta," the introduction might have come off as canned, but perhaps that's what happened after years of greeting initiates. He gestured to the figure beside him. "And this is Rohaan, we have a few missing faces, nothing to worry about, so he will be taking their place." Had there been a crack in his façade when he said nothing to worry about?



"Alright. You four will be working together on this one," the orc, with his gravelly voice and stoic expression, struck an imposing figure, or at least he would have were it not for the giant-blooded Khol. He seemed unfazed by the group before him, as if it were just another Monday in the guild. "I'm Logrim. After you've introduced yourselves, I'll go over the details of the mission and we'll see what you've got."

The five of them, four initiates and their handler, stood in one of the training squares in front of the proper guildhall. Logrim had been pacing a rut in the grass since the first one had arrived, and finally seemed to settle down at the last appearance.

Kothrias Hemlenfell stroked his beard with a calloused hand while his eyes passed over his fellow guildsmates, most of them were probably foreigners to Arskel like himself yet Koth had never been one to judge someone by their features. Appearances can be deceiving but the personality makes the person, that in his opinion made more sense than how most just judge their fellow kin by the clothing they wear or the people they drink with.

So after a moment of due consideration he stopped stroking his braided beard and cleared his throat grabbing everyones attention, "Aye it's a pleasure to meet you all," he said in his gruff accented voice "The names Kothrias Hemlenfell but ye' can just call me Koth for short." finishing his introduction the dwarf went back to thoughtfully stroking his beard, as he did out of habit when he was thinking or listening to others speak.

---

"Petragar Stoneweaver," the dark skinned dwarf stepped forward, offering her hand to the gnome that was not much shorter than herself. She had been nervous, seeing the two tall elves making their way to the same guild hall as she had been called to. Seeing a gnome helped to calm those nervous though her expression maintained a stoic neutral expression. "Most have taken te'callin' me Petra though."

@Aerandir@ERode@Guilty Spark

---

So this was the Wayfarers guild, huh.

The human had made sure to take a moment to observe most people on the way in. Watching people were a good way of getting to know people, and roughly the way the people around them were. For the most part, the people here seemed...rough, but friendly. Lots of good sorts here. Some of the good people doing bad things, variety. She was pretty sure some of them had been of the exact opposite, too. Bad people doing terrible things.

Hm, she had to wonder which one someone would label her as?

A quiet chuckle as she leaned back in her chair. What a motley crew of misfits. She should fit in right at home here.

That said...her gaze slowly shifted to her companions within the room. Curious. Pure blooded humans were uncommon these days, and there seemed to be three sitting right here. Though, the man in black made even her uneasy. Hm. She'd have to watch him, probably, but as long as they were on the same side, it was likely nothing. The boy however, held her gaze for a bit longer.

What was he doing here? Another initiate? He had a pretty good body, but he couldn't be that old from the look of him. Well if he was here, he probably was skilled in something. Not that she was going to leave him alone though.

"Hey boy," She broke the silence between the three of them. Might as well do something to pass the time. "you sure you're in the right place? I was expecting initiates here not to be completely green."

"Sheri, no familial name." The book elf introduced herself from behind a large tome. Of course, it wasn't an act of shyness nor societal disinterest. One could call it the opposite, in fact. The script on the cover was unreadable to those not versed in the book elves' native language; onlookers were unable to tell that the book she had been reading was titled Societal Interactions within Magic Vol. II. Perhaps it was also a blessing as onlookers weren't able to tell that Sheri had authored the book herself nor could they see that this was the second volume of something that most would consider superfluous.

Still, she was shifting through the pages to find something.

He kept his hands clasped tightly around the black wood staff that he had in his hands and curled his tail around his feet. Observant gold eyes clocked the path in the grass carved by their handler and the careful scrutiny he was being subjected to by Tati'yana's reptilian eyes. He tried not to shuffle uncomfortably under her gaze, important to keep up apperances.

He appreciated the short introduction from Koth as it set the precedent that he didn't have to say much, so he stuck by the other tallest member of their group, who had yet to introduce himself, as he felt much more comfortable given his own height. Less out of place and easier to fade into the background.

He tried to ignore the disappointment he picked up from Tati'yana as he had no idea what it might be directed towards, but he hoped that they would all be able to get along well enough with each other. He wasn't sure of their mission or anything of the sort, but he intended to be friendly with these people, provided they didn't give him a reason not to.

"I'm Hawks Zulcan," his voice a quiet, low sound, "Looking forward to working with all of you." He leaned on his staff, going for a confident nonchalance, and trying to act like he wasn't a bit spooked by the wildly different personalities that were present.

From what he'd seen of the guild overall they were a motley bunch of all different races and specialties. He only hoped that none of higher ups recognized him for who his father was, that would only make things more difficult in the long run.

East Wing Common Room,
@Guilty Spark@Moonshadow@OwO

---

She'd checked it three times that morning, but she had gently adjusted the belt carrying her sword one last time when she planted herself for the morning's muster. This was not the day to misstep, for her group it was the date of their initiation trials. For her, the trial could just as well have already started. Towering over her fellow elf, her complete stillness made her stand apart even more. Everything felt tight. It was with great wisdom that she commanded herself to breathe, ripping her glare from a random group across the hall when her handler spoke up. She couldn't help but flicker another look in their direction as Kiska remarked on their number.
"Vera." She almost choked, her voice a little quiet with a strain that finally broke when she started talking. "Likewise," She nodded her head towards Sheri. "Just Vera. Pleased to meet you all." She exhaled, gradually deflating as she eased back into a speaking tone. "Let's all do our best today, yeah?"

"Hn." Was all the cloaked knight said aloud as he beheld the guild hall's common area. He'd pulled his hood off before entering and removed his helmet, tucking it under his arm. For months, he'd tried to avoid showing his face whenever possible as a wanted man, and he couldn't deny that it felt good to have some measure of safety and security to feel fresh air on his face. For now, at least.

The Guild itself was...adequate. It certain wasn't the barracks he'd lived most of his adult life in, but that was a thing of the past now. For a last resort for thieves, scoundrels, and criminals, it was certainly less shabby than he'd been expecting. That was more than enough, really.

Mathias looked over those gathered at the table with him, setting his helmet down upon the table for now. Some sort of horned nature man, what he now understood to be a tiefling, and, the biggest shock of all, what seemed to be a full-blooded human. A blind one, at that. Just a year ago, he'd never seen much of any race besides half-orcs, dwarves from the mountain's depths, and the occasional foreign trader. It was almost a good thing he'd spent so long on the run, considering it had let him acclimate enough to the culture shock he'd experienced ever since he'd been run out of Tyrcliff.

"If no one else wants to break the ice, I will." Mathias grunted, nodding briefly at those assembled. "Mathias Rugal. Former knight. I'm looking forward to fighting alongside you lot."

The Handler was late.

Leaning against the wall beside the shuttered window, a pale-skinned man drew a shard of flint out from the pockets of his coat. He held it between his index and middle fingers, before striking it with a heavily scratched ring around his thumbs. Sparks, bits of light in an otherwise dim room, scattered and fell into the bowl of a polished tobacco pipe. A mixture of foreign herbs and leaves, dried and shred, smouldered upon contact with the sparks. They glowed red as he breathed it in, then turned gray as he released a faintly nutty smoke out. The man’s black eyes gazed at the other two in the room, not focusing particularly on either one. He felt the itch in his scars, but did not respond to their cries of revenge or retreat, and instead, remained where he was. Arms folded, flint in his pockets once more, a mahogany pipe cradled before his lips, his vision growing hazier as smoke filled the room and found no easy escape.

Another tinge of emotion. Pity this time, as those sweetly-barbed words left the pale woman’s mouth. She was pale like snow, droplets of blood where her irises laid. Tone irreverent and confident; in an age of bodies warped by the well of leylines, one could never be sure if what looked like a child truly was one. But perhaps such disrespect could be expected. This was Arskel, the dead end of the trail others named the High Road, and this was the Wayfarers’ Guild, the last chance for any aspiring adventurer, any wayward criminal, to find employment with their craftless skills. With no Handler here, what were they to do but turn on each other?

Qantz-Farron let out a small, mirthless laugh. His gaze settled on the bladed lady.

“We’re not going to get along, but I pray we get out of each other’s ways,” he said, voice as viscous as a snake’s venom. “You’ve a name, or do you prefer ‘girl’?”

Vela cast her covered gaze up to the ceiling, her 'vision' wandering around and about -past the initiates, past the handler, past the other newly-minted team across the room, a smile wide across her face all the while. She let out a little 'hm', sounding not-quite satisfied with something, before pulling her near body-length ponytail over her shoulder, and settling down daintily in an offered seat.

"Can but one take the place of our 'few' missing faces? Or am I looking at one called an 'Adept'?" Vela asked, folding a knee over the other, and clasping her hands over the resting leg. The smile on her face faded jarringly quick, her interest in the matter only just long enough to ask the question. Her head remained still, but her eyes darted about her team, then.

A ragged knight of an orc, and a flame-skinned tiefling. She felt out of place, but made no outward gesture of it. She was not unused to tieflings, but the horned faces she personally knew did not dress in such casual clothing. The orc seemed similarly 'inappropriately dressed' for one called a former knight. But then, that had her mind wandering into assumptions -her first being that this man had lost quite a bit. Clearly, to her, he did not drop the title of knight willingly.

"I am Vela Fade, a sorceress, if you will." She dwelled for a second on Mathias's introduction, and realized only then the pun within it, pertinent only to her. She smiled again, and continued, "I foresee a bit more time needed to break the ice completely," she smirked devilishly.

---

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Finn sat silently in a relaxed posture, appearing to be more interested in an odd shape of an alcohol stain on the table rather than the two humans sitting at the table with him. It was a really rare occurrence that three humans happened to be partnered up in a guild.

He unconsciously fiddled with a feather destined for fletching in one hand as he spun it between his fingers. He looked bored and restless waiting for the handler to grace them with their presence.

But this wasn’t the case, he didn’t even see the stain in front of him. What really was going through his head was…

WHAT...THE… HELL. Come on man... THINK! You talk to girls ALL the time, now you cant utter one word? What the hell is WRONG with you?

Finn was trying his best not to stare at the new girl, fighting with himself to figure out the best thing to say to her… when she spoke to him.

She just call him a BOY? He blinked a couple times. Looking at himself as if trying to look for the green on him. With a serious look and tone he then replied. ”Huh… interesting... I would have sworn I'm more Olive tan than completely green.”

Well there we go. Stupid remark right of the bat. He thought to himself.

He gave a lopsided grin and scratched the back of his head Pretty sure this is the right place, there’s only four teams today and the other briefing rooms are being used at the moment for other things...I wonder if your handler just accidentally went to the wrong briefing room? There are a couple in the building and they look the same.

The other guy in all black then spoke up. Seriously who wears all black in this weather.

He quickly added, ”I’m not Boy by the way. My name is Finn. Finn Reinheart. But Sorry miss… I mean Ma’am, You look so beautiful and youthful I thought you were around my age.

Oh shit... Finn mentally facepalmed himself.

The Half-Giant stood there silently, his distance from the others short but notable. His scarred arms were crossed, his demeanor guarded and his head bowed. Despite his large size, it seemed as if he was trying to shrink away from everyone else ever so slightly. No, it seemed a better analogy for what he tried to do was fade into the background, like some sort of statue. It was quite difficult to do so, given his stature, but he remained quiet and seemed to not react to this strange troupe he found himself. At the same time, his aura seemed to be the most exerted of them all, especially to those who are magically sensitive. A shame, really.

Logrim, their handler, seemed quieter and more well-kept than most of the orcs the vagrant has seen before in the wilds. It made sense, especially for someone higher up on the Guild. The first to introduce themselves, the stout Koth, seemed much truer to the stereotype, which was never too bad to have as an ally. The reptilian girl, Tah-tee-yah-nah? She was the strangest of them all, the wanderer feeling some sort of kinship with another wild soul, silently agreeing as she remained guarded amongst them for but a brief moment before amicably speaking to Koth. And finally, the Dragonborn, who seemed the wisest of them all, as well as the most mystically inclined. Possibly a mage, for better or worse.

The former bandit could not help but chuckle slightly at everyone's introduction, realizing that each initiate had introduced themselves by height. It was the little things that he noticed quite easily, after all. His senses were keen, which made it easier to do so as it always helped to focus on such small things in order to drown out the countless torture he had endured. It's how he coped throughout his life, how he held back his pain and suffering, and more importantly, how he kept The Beast Within abated. It was at that moment that his blood froze, realizing it was his turn to introduce himself. Imposter syndrome began to set in as he found himself among this group, wondering if he really belonged. Would they welcome him if they knew what his sins were? That he was the Wolf of Hallowood? A thug, a murderer, a monster?

"Khol, like the stone." The Half-Giant finally introduced himself to the others, his rough voice only hinting at his internal torment. He hated his name, as it was given to him to remind him of what little use he had with his former family; fuel for the mages. Still, it was the only name he had known, the only one that he had chosen to stick to out of the many horrible things he was called before. "Don't get in my way, and I won't get in yours." A promise was made to his allies to keep their distance, not because of an apparent revulsion, but because he knew that no matter who his allies were, no matter what darker deeds they may have committed, none of them deserved to meet him when that thing would take over.

After introducing himself, Khol bowed his head down once more, not wishing to disclose anything else about himself at this time. At the same time, he did keep an eye out, gauging their reactions. Khol expected disgust, hatred, fear. It's all the Wolf of Hallowood had deserved, after all.

---

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Kothrias laughed jovially at the excitement of Tati-Yana the Yanaski, a race of people his clan knew well and respected them for their devotion to the earth.

The woman ignored everyone as she bounced in excitement and greeted him in her traditional way, Koth did the same gesture in greeting to Tati-Yana and chuckled "Aye lassy we stout folk are close with the earth spirits," behind his beard Koth smiled warmly crinkling lines around his ruddy cheeks "It is nice to meet ye Tati-Yana." Koth said placing a hand over his chest which symbolized a gesture of friendship between their people.

While it came as little surprise to Koth he quickly took notice of the following lack of enthusiasm amongst the other two members of their little band of misfits. Koth realized that he had initiated their introduction by order of height, holding his composure he forced down the urge to laugh.

Hawks Zulcan stood with an air that dripped arrogance or nonchalance but it was one in the same in Koth's opinion, the Dragonborn looked like a magic-user of sorts and probably came from a higher class family but he found that he needed to get to know the scaled mage before he regarded him as a friend.

But what grabbed his attention instantly was the man looming tall and noticeably silent until it came to his turn to make an introduction. A half-giant? Perhaps something else altogether? Khol at a glance appeared distant in Koth's perspective but he could respect that.

Koth walked up to the man and looked up at Khol, staring the half-giant in the eyes with a look of determination as he planted his fists firmly at his waist and with an arched eyebrow Kothrias Hemlenfell spoke with bold intent to Kohl.

"Aye I'm familiar with stone," he told Kohl as he reached up to extend greetings in the form of a handshake "But I'd like teh see how you handle yer liquor later laddy." Koth said wriggling a bushy eyebrow mischievously as he essentially challenged Kohl to a drinking contest

@Aerandir@ERode@Guilty Spark

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"Hah, how cute." Sera smirked, chuckling at Finn's reply to her jab. Naive and oblivious? Or just willfully doing so? From the way he was talking he was probably not even an initiate. Not that it was really on her mind right now. No, instead, she had got up from her seat, leaning over the table wearing an aggressive, provocative grin. One hand was placed on the table for balance, the other rested on her hip. "You got a lot of nerve, hitting on me boy." Her words carried a teasing, blatantly disrespectful tone, a slight cold breath as she spoke. "I can't tell if you're oblivious or you just enjoy getting harassed by women." Her free hand snatched the feather he had in his hands. "Either way...careful who you get friendly with. Might end up as a snack for someone." She gave him a rough, hard shove on his chest.

If he was her superior, couldn't get too carried away. She needed to at least get in before causing trouble, heh...not that he seemed particularly threatening if he was going around saying those kinds of things freely. Her gaze turned back to the other man in the room as she straightened her posture.

"What's the matter?" She grinned aggressively. "Call me whatever you want, but if you need a name...Sera Vrukeil." If someone recognized the name, well, that was fine. A bit more fun if someone did anyways. "And don't worry your creepy eyes about it. I think we'll get along juuuust fine. Not my first time working on a team, so as long as you pull your weight, we're not going to have any problems."

Sera took her seat again, taking out one of her knives and idly observing the blade.

"What about you, huh? Gonna introduce yourself or are you just gonna stand there making threats?"

With such eloquence of speech, perhaps the pale woman wasn’t so far off when she addressed that youth as a boy after all. Still, Finn Reinheart. Even at a glance, one could understand that the youth was a warrior. Fledging and inexperienced in more than one way, but one with a strong enough foundation that there was reason for him to be working for the Wayfarer’s Guild. Qantz-Farron drew in another lungful of smoke-infused air, and let it out. Undoubtedly, Finn was the physically strongest within this group.

But Sera could still wrap him around her finger.

And now, her gaze had turned to match his own, biting words eliciting a smirk to meet her grin. “Qantz-Farron Jinterrez Yusentein,” he replied, dipping his head and taking a step back in the mockery of a bow. “Disregard the last two, and address me by the first two.” He straightened up, but remained where he was, by the window. “I meant my words as observations only, but to construe that as a threat, hm...you are an interesting one, aren't you?”

Qantz-Farron turned towards the warrior then, his smile fading, expression without warmth.

“And Finn, it’s a pleasure.”

---

---

Finn eyebrows raised when Sera stood up and leaned on the table closer to him. He nervously swallowed as she said he had a lot of nerve for hitting on her. He raised a finger but she continued on saying she couldn’t tell if he was oblivious or enjoyed being harassed. He looked to the side and half shrugged while tilting his head to the side. As if to say he didn’t know either… that perhaps it was both. Probably more the latter.

This was the moment she snagged his feather away from him. His head pulled back as a slightly confused look came upon his face. First thought that came to mind were other kids stealing things from him when he was a child. It irked him slightly, at the thought. But then again, it was just a feather he found while traveling. He had a dozen more in his small pouch. So it wasn’t a loss. So he let it go.

He furrowed his brows as she warned him on being careful who he becomes friends with. It seemed odd she would say that. Did she have a darker past? Was she warning him away from her? As for the snack part, he didn’t know what to make of that. Sure other races were known to eat humans. But there were some in those races that he worked along with. Before he could ask what she meant by that she shoved him in the chest.

The way he was sitting made it all too easy to tip his chair back at the force. Normally anyone caught off guard like that would have tumbled backwards out of the chair. But not Finn. Kicking his foot up he managed to wedge it against the bottom of the heavy table top. Which gave him enough of a hesitation to reverse the momentum by tucking forward. Balancing on the edge of the two hind legs of the chair.

He held that position for a moment as she turned her attention towards the other man. Who had asked her what her name was. Which she gave, Sera Vrukiel huh? Wasn’t that the name of a noble family in Borea? Finn had been there a few times over the last ten years… if he remembered correctly there was something bad that happened to that family five, or seven years ago. He couldn’t remember details but it was a tragedy that shocked the entire city state. Perhaps he would remember more later.

She seemed very aggressive and possibly competitive...that is for sure, though open to working together. That's good. It will help in the mission. His attentioned moved towards the one who now called himself Qantz. Who seemed to be interested in Sera as well, even stating the fact. Yet when he turned his eyes to Finn, his smile faded and a very insincere pleasure was spoken.

Finn began to grow uneasy at the man's gaze. The fact no light glinted from his eyes...almost as if he was starting into the eyes of a corpse. Clearly he didn’t think highly of Finn. Not that Finn was surprised. He dealt with that alot. Even within the guild at first. But he’s changed the minds of many of the other guild members after working with them. Becoming friends with the most unlikely.

He finally allowed his seat to drop back down to all four legs with a thud. Standing in the same momentum. “It’s a pleasure to meet the both of you. Qantz , and ms. Sera. Though a bit.. Rocky at first. I do hope we can work together well. Not too often can I work with some fellow humans.” Started off, feeling more confident now that the ice was..cracked in a sense.

Looking to Sera, who was still holding the red feather she snatched from him while also one of her blades as she inspected it. With it near her eyes, he finally registered that her eyes were a dull red. I do hope you understand I meant not to offend, and make it look like I was trying to hit on you . I was merely stating a truth. “ He added with a smile on his face.

Finn looked up at Qantz and with that same smile, as he leaned both hands on the table he continued.
” I guess we can start by getting to know each other’s strengths so we can make a plan for this upcoming mission. To start off I am not a green adventurer” He said with an amused glance towards Sera.
” I’ve been adventuring for ten years now, and have been a member of this guild for 3 years. Before all that, I grew up in the woods just west of here, Where I also learned how to track and hunt. I am a decent archer who can infuse elemental magic into anything I touch, mostly just my arrows. But I also can also handle my own in a close combat fight, so you don't need to worry about me being in trouble if some melee guy gets too close. Mentioning that he was an archer due to the fact he did not have his bow and quiver on him.

He lifted his right hand and motioned to both of them with a palm up.
What about you both? It was clear Sera was a swordswoman, with her swords and large dagger that rested on her hips. As well as the multiple smaller daggers.and knives, including the one in her hand.

Qantz he couldn’t see any weapons or equipment on him, perhaps he was focused on using magic? Or perhaps he left his weapons and equipment in his room. He did not look much like a fighter, but then again, appearances could be deceiving.

Insight and observation were two of the things that Hawks prided himself on. It was how one stayed alive living the the slums of The Cliff as well as a boon when working with unusual people and this group definitely qualified as unusual in his mind. The druid who bounced between the members of their group, seemingly had a mind that did not sit still for more than a moment and moods that shifted with little warning. He could see her disappointment as she looked his way and pushed the creeping feelings of concern and dread to the back of his mind. They barely knew each other, and he was not one to make early judgement, only note what he could see.

Gold eyes flicked to the dwarf, Koth, who appeared to be believing of the disinterested arrogance he projected. Once he got to know the members of this group better, he'd let down his guard. He couldn't stop a small flicker of a smile from forming on his face as Koth spoke warmly to Tati'yana, and seemed undaunted by the cool greeting that was afforded to them by the largest among them. If any of them were going to be able to break down whatever barriers potentially stood between them before this mission, or after, it was likely to be him.

As for Khol, he was difficult to get a read on. Large and intimidating to look at, but quiet and less willing to engage with them. Similar to himself in some aspects he supposed. Something about the man tickled at the back of his mind. As if the Numin who followed him was trying to inform him of something that he couldn't quite place, a sort of wild energy that was kept carefully contained, but it wasn't his place to pry. Each of them had their reasons for being here after all.

Hawks gave an imperceptible nod, unusual but capable to mentally summarize his own observations. He fiddled absentmindedly with the metal filigree of the brooch that secured part of his armor, his gaze landing on Logrim who had stopped his pacing once they all arrived. He was eager to learn what this mission of their might be.