Kharne had been one of the first to arrive, only led by the young looking priestly one. Which means he got second best seat in the rickety carriage with a pair of donkeys for pullers. He was unfamiliar with carriage and equine languages, it was all gobbledegook to him. Still he paid his dues, plonked his ass down, and seemed to be waiting for others. Or a specific time to leave. He was unsure of which, he normally traveled everywhere by foot.

A pair of men soon set up shop, swiftly followed by woman in fancy clothes. Ah fuck everyone was starting to introduce themselves, he didn't really feel like getting all buddy buddy with what was a female hunter judging by her gear, a man of god, a trouble maker, and an enforcer. The barbaric dragonborn was not one for socializing unless he was drinking, and he was very much sober right now. Ah fuck it, why the hell not. It's not like it's going to do any harm giving them a name.

[color=red]"Kharne."[/color] He rumbled out gruffly, his voice uncomfortable to listen to given its incredibly deep nature. It had a touch of something else though, a draconic accent that had a sort of hiss and gutteralness to it. Dragonborn [b]were[/b] known for having their own magical language though...

With everyone present and seated the carriage moved, trundling uncomfortably through the countryside of the cursed land. A fog rolled in, toxic apparently judging by the old man motioning for them to covered their faces as well before banishing the rotten smelling air with a talisman and mystical words. Possibly. Or maybe king cheese pulled it back as a game to see how far they could get before dropping? Eh too much thought not enough smash. How much longer until their first destination?