[color=1a7b30][h2]Rezello[/h2][/color]
[hr]
Rezello refilled his glass, taking another drink of the unusual wine as the archbishop returned with another individual, an addition to their band. A white-haired woman in an unusual garb, similar to that worn by some of the female members of the faith that he had encountered before, though distinctly more threatening in design. The former inquisitor seemed to recognize the significance of the outfit; as soon as she saw the new member, her demeanor shifted abruptly, her focus directly intensely upon the "penitent" as she introduced herself. From her words, it seemed she may have been famous- infamous? For something, though her name wasn't one Rezello recognized. Regardless of whatever past she might have had, he had been hired to protect his allies, not pry into their histories, and so to him she was no different than any of the others.

While Osric and Carnatia introduced themselves to their new member, Ludvig had apparently started stumbling his own way through a first impression - first with a spit-take at Amaris's initial appearance, followed by suddenly appearing behind her and trying to touch the back of her hood. An attempt quickly foiled by a combination of spikes manifesting from the hood itself and a set of chains similarly appearing from the ground, the former impaling Ludvig's hand and the latter narrowly missing it as they snaked through the air with sharp, angular turns, a startled reaction sending him recoiling to the ground. Unsurprisingly, Ludvig's shenanigans were not taken well by the newcomer, and as he made his way back to his feet she explained her past, evidently as a warning against such behavior. With an apology, he left the room, followed shortly after by Lynx.

Carmen was the next to leave the hall, with Mirielle quickly finishing what remained of her meal before chasing after him, presumably to discuss something about their latest addition to the party. Matters of faith and such. Whatever the case, Osric had the right idea with his previous toast. Some degree of tension was always inevitable in groups like theirs, and no good would come from letting them get out of hand. After all, it was Rezello's job to protect his newfound allies, even if that meant protecting them from each other. As long as they could remain civil with each other, hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

[quote]"How about you, Rezello? This feel like those carefree camaraderie from missions in your past?”[/quote]
[color=1a7b30]"Well, it's not the most cohesive group I've worked with, but for a band of strangers we certainly could be doing worse. For now, I'm keeping my hopes up that any internal strife we have had thus far can be sorted out soon enough, once we have had time to know each other better... and perhaps depend upon one another. Nothing like a bit of mutual reliance to build solidarity."[/color]

Most adventuring parties Rezello had been a part of in the past tended to be smaller than their current group, perhaps half the size. Larger groups like this were typically reserved for more dangerous or otherwise difficult jobs; the expedition from two years ago came to mind, as the group then had been roughly the same size - minus the support crew. Obviously, given the nature of their mission, no such group would be joining them for this.
[hr]
Beyond the typical routines of travel, very little happened during the first near-month of their journey. Lynx had taken it upon herself to handle much of the logistics of their supplies; something to keep herself occupied, or perhaps as a way of trying to prove herself useful to the others. For most of the journey, Rezello had returned his armor to Armory to reduce any unnecessary weight, though he kept his spadone on hand as a cautionary measure. Luckily, such preparation proved unnecessary, as they arrived in Dragon's Maw without incident.

As they reached their stop, Rezello dismounted his horse, stretching his legs for a moment as he looked around. Returning his weapon to Armory within the safety of the frontier city's heavily fortified walls, he thought about setting out to find himself a meal. Preferably something meaty, but not dried or otherwise preserved - he had eaten more than enough of that in the past 25 days. The pork Carnatia described sounded appealing, though her mention of "fine" dining was... less so.