As Orion stood under the dimly lit canopy the trees provided. He turned upon hearing a voice lidded with elven tongue. "Are you hurt?" The elf inquired, his voice was soft, reminding him of the many elvish scholars he had been lucky enough to meet.

With his train of thought now scattered, the young man shrugged to the question, giving a light wince as it managed to pull at the bruised skin around his stomach. Ego aside, he did need help. "If it will cause no trouble to your group- then yes, I have a slight problem with my stomach." He was quick to add a "Thank you". Looking down at his wound and the dark specs of blood that lay around it, he couldn't help but scold himself. This wasn't his first tangle, and it wouldn't be his last. Looking back to the elf, he gave a grateful nod of his head, almost a bow, but not quite. He didn't feel bending would suit him well at the moment.

This elf, he had been the one to call of the beast of a mirage he had seen earlier, in the tavern. It was just as likely he had summoned it. A magic user. More and more adventurers and people alike had begun to use magic, levitating this, cursing that, setting this on fire. Whatever they could do, Orion didn't want a part of it. He had seen what happened to a young witch whom had used too much magic in too little time, taking her life source and close to shattering it. He hadn't seen her again after the incident, but to be honest, he hoped he wouldn't. Though, he had to admit, magic was useful when using it the right way. Restoration, for example, was a good use, and a good branch of magic. In order to heal someone, he figured it might take a bit more from you.

Suddenly, he heard the crunch of leaves being shuffled next to them. His amber eyes moved to locate the source just before his neck and head, once all three had gone together to turn, he found what he had heard. The red haired woman that had stood beside her Captian, and no doubt, friend. He still was unsure as to what she was doing, her back to him. Orion out of habit had lifted his face mask and flattened it, smoothing out the soft, and to him, delicate piece of attire. He noticed it then, what the woman was attending to. The customs of men are not easily forgotten when you're raised upon them.

He watched silently as she began to give the proper ceremony, one that he bristled at giving to these.... Giving a soft, unheard sigh, Orion closed his eyes and leaned away. If that's what she thought was best, what was his word against it. All in all, if he were a bandit, stuck into a situation that forced him to, then he too would want to go with at least some semblance of peace after death. Well great, he'd only just met these people, and now they were making him see the bandits side of things?!

Swearing that he heard a young woman shout "PUPPY!" being carried through the trees, Orion shook his head. This would be a long journey indeed.

The man who was named Orion admitted that he was injured after failing his attempt to shrug it off. This close, Elrithian could see that blood was miscolouring the cloth around the wound. His first instinct had been correct and he was glad he had decided to go and ask.

“Well, even if you did so unknowingly, you did show up to our aid and got that while helping us.” He said and smiled at how politeness he was shown.

Elrithian knew the basics of healing, that which all mages of proper education learned, so he would probably be able to do at least something about the injury himself if needed. He was, however, both quite exhausted and not the best healer of the group. From what he had gathered, and after the fight in the basement, that honour would be Sevines, and he was sure she would be of more help than he. Sevine had actually showed up at that point, she had started with what he assumed was Angardian burial rites.

“Sevine!” he said to get her attention, slightly louder but that just meant ordinary speaking tone for anyone else. “Turn your eyes towards the living for a moment. This man is injured. Would you have a look at it?” The dead could wait, in his opinion.

Erahja, too had arrived to drop of the dead that she carried, finding her brother talking to the other stranger and Sevine immediately started taking proper care of the bodies. Not really having anything else to do at the moment, Erahja was about to ask if she needed any help with that when someone shouted ‘puppy’ after which the captain and Zal gathered around a woman enthusiastically petting the S’ithra’s dog.

“Well isn’t that just what we need, more strangers! And this one is possibly insane.” She remarked, mostly aimed at her brother. She was still getting used to the two that had already showed up. Who was this dog-loving woman and what was she doing here? How long had she been sitting in the bushes? Did she even know about the bandit-infestation and the fight they were just dealing with the aftermaths of?

Elrithian had just turned his attention from Erahja making snide comments and back to making sure Orions was being treated for his injury when Zalrinus came up asking for the amulet back. Startled for a moment from being spoken to from a new direction, Elrithian realized he was still holding the amulet in his hand.

“Yes.” He said and held it out towards the S’ithra. “Thank you.” He gave his half-nod half-bow. The amulet had helped and he was grateful, even though he had decided when being threatened in the basement that he didn’t particularly like this S’ithra.

When he felt sure that he was not needed for anything, he sat down by the nearest tree. It felt to him it had been one very long and confusing day since they rode out with this group, during which he had spent some time drifting in and out of consciousness. He hoped that whatever reward this Matthias had planned for them, it was not a party. He was so tired. He didn’t need to do more than close his eyes for a moment to start drifting into sleep where he sat. Erahja started to help with the bodies, following Sevine’s example as she had no personal experience with the burial rites, and kept an eye on Elli who, understandably, looked like he would fall over at any moment.

De watched the events that his new found group had made about the new girl. At first, she seemed fairly harmless to him as she treated a dog, he assumed was named sid, pretty well. Regardless the Dog's master seemed fairly hostile towards the girl, he seemed very bitter about being kidnapped which frankly, De found a little ridiculous. However, the girl did give a hint of a threat to them and her confidence could be something that De should not underestimate. What guardian was she referring to?

Still, as De thought he said nothing as the dog's owner left possibly out of frustration and a need for sleep. Now that he thought of it he didn't really know these peoples' names, only Orion and this Angel. There was hardly any introductions at all.
"Angel.." He said simply, focusing back on the kneeling female figure. He smiled lightly and crossed his arms casually as he looked down at her. " I hope that is not ironic... My name is DE.. and I am just as new and weary of these people as you are."
He had hoped his kinder words would bring her to become more friendly, he still didn't like the sound of a guardian and sought to make sure that she was not tempted any more than she already was. Even if it was a lie, it shouldn't be reason to be unsavory.
"I can't speak for the man with his dog, but you have a friend with me.." De bent his knees and leaned down to either shake her hand or help her up which ever it was he had honest intent.

As the mysterious woman drew back her hood, Rhaedin immediately noticed a hint of elven characteristics in her face. Yet as she searched the red head's face, she also noticed something that she hadn't seen in a long while. The woman had Cherod lineage. Zal cut short the scene by telling Angel, as she had introduced herself, that he cared not who she was, or if she had a guardian, as long as she held no intention to kill them. He departed from their group, adding that he was going to find his bed.

Even after Zal's departure, Rhaedin had remained behind to survey the group. She felt no need to speak at the moment, she would assert her power only if the situation demanded it. Instead she turned her attention to Sevine, and watched the witch perform the sacred burial rites for the dead. She had seen this done many times on her travels, the dead were treated with great care and respect, no matter what life that individual led. All should be lain to rest with dignity, it was a noble idea that the majority of healers in Angard adhered to. It was no different with Sevine.

Rising up from the ground, Sevine looked to Erahja who had come to assist her. While the group had circled around the newcomer, Sevine had built a modest brushpile upon which she had moved the bodies. It was a long rectangular pile of dried sticks and twigs, grass, and dead plants. Now the corpses of their foes lay upon the woodstock, and it was here that Sevine revealed her intentions with her burial rites. "Watch your hands..." Sevine cautioned her companion, the Rakasha. Sevine stood at the base of the pile and tipped her head back slowly, up to the sky still dark with night, but faintly growing lighter by each passing second. Dawn was approaching.

"Sarmon, ruler of death, king of war, I ask that you guide these souls into the Void, so that they will not wander this land lost." The witch dropped her head, tucking it in to her chest and closed her eyes. She pulled her hands in beneath her chin, and cupped them together before she whispered words almost inaudible, "Duva." A small ball of fire formed in her hands. The fiery orb floated, hovering above the flesh of her palms. Sevine could feel the heat of the small orb, it pleasantly warmed her hands, but this was not the purpose in which she needed to use the flames. Kneeling down, she released the fire orb upon the brush pile and watched. The fire spread slowly, eating its way higher. Sevine's hair reflected the light from the fire, shimmering bright like copper.

In Angard, every body in which a soul cohabitates, must be properly lain to rest, either through burial, or cremation, by doing this, the souls of the dead are sent to the Void, an eternal resting place. All souls travel here, or at least according to Angardian religion, after bodily death. There is no distinction between heaven or hell. Souls that are still in the realm of the living are believed to upset the balance and flow of life. Many witches, such as Sevine, are hired to "cleanse" homes, or sometimes, villages, where plagues, famine, or war have occured and where people have died. Of course Sevine knew this, it was what she learned. Everything she knew came from her grandmother. Without her, Sevine though darkly, she would not be here, setting fire to corpses of men and some women, who had attacked her. Her gaze had been intently locked upon the flames of the growing fire, when she realized that Elrithian had called to her.

Glancing back over her shoulder, she could see Elrithian standing next to Orion. She could tell by the way he stood that he possessed an abdominal wound. She started off for Orion, and saw him smooth his mask that he used to cover a portion of his face. How strange.. When Sevine neared him, she asked him with an observant tone. Her eyes ran over him, from head to toe, investigating visually to see if there were any other ailments he felt readily. "What troubles you? Tell me what causes you the greatest pain." Her weathered-blue eyes lock upon Orion's. They were golden like Rhaedin's, was he an elf too? Or half? Sevine had met only one half-elf before. His name was Tobias Gwylin. And he was a scandalous thief who had tried to break into her apothecary back home. He hadn't expected the witch to be clever enough to create her own alarm system, and particularly one that used magical wards...exploding fire wards...

After Sevine ended her rites of burial for their slain foes, Rhaedin turned back. She spotted the man in iron armor and watched him kneel down beside Angel. He introduced himself as De and offered his hand towards her. Rhaedin smiled softly at the polite gesture. Angard was notorious for men who adhered to a code of some sort. Whether it was a code of logic, honour or chivalry, it was present in the societal circle of men. The captain headed back to the Drearie Ponde Inn. As she strolled through the field, Rhaedin found it odd that she wasn't bothered about returning to a building where a large amount of deaths had recently occurred. Not that she was fond of it either... She needed to report back to Mathias, to inform him that the bodies had been taken care of properly.

Angel tried to focus on the S'ilthram, she honestly did, but the puppy’s disappointment had caught her eye’s corner. He seemed saddened by her lack of attention, made worse when he whined disapprovingly, and shortly had rolled onto all fours before he plopped down to lay. He seemed rather bored with the event as his head dropped upon his large paws and started to sleep. She couldn’t help but feel rather guilty for ignoring the puppy, even if it was for a good reason, her mind turned back to the reptile still holding the flame ball within his claws.

He seemed to examine her features a bit, be it out of surprise or curiosity, she couldn’t tell. As the S'ilthra’s words unfolded what happened to date, in a short list, Angel’s head only tilted in bewilderment and interest. Part of it sounded fun but not all of it, namely the being clubbed on the head, robbed, and possibly killing who she guessed had been responsible for the event. Finally she was relieved when the creature decided to put away his flame at last, her ears perked upon learning a few things about the puppy, especially his name, when the S’ilthra moved to talk with a robed Elf. The white porcelain skin and long hair, he looked more like one of King Eyres’s scholars then a fighter or a druid, at least not at all like her father from the picture Merthias had shown her. Angel couldn’t help but wonder why he was traveling with them at all.

That was when she heard someone else speaking, catching her attention now. Her eyes set on a Rakasha, the coat spotted like an Ocelot, commenting about her arrival and even her state of mind. Inwardly, Angel had a feeling the question wasn’t meant for her as it was for the others yet she answered it anyways.

“Insane? I don’t think so, but then again, there are worse things to be then being insane. That’s at least what Glif told me once but I doubt my brother agrees with that.” Her voice seemed a little amused at the idea, even a small smile had crept on her lips. That’s when the man in armor caught her attention. At the sound of his voice, Angel’s head turned to face him as his mind seemed to absorb her name. He seemed rather friendly, his arms crossed coolly before his head tilted down and made eye contact with her. She couldn’t help smiling when he introduced himself, giving her something else to call him other than Tinman, her mind noted the armor, as offered his friendship before helping her up. Angel rose slowly at first then placed her hands behind her back while she bounced on the balls of her feet and heel in a slightly childish pace.

“I’m not too worried because the worse they will do is hurt me. They wouldn’t have been the first unfriendly people I’ve met or the last, Merthias is mainly worried about me getting hurt.” She said the first part in a worry freeway tone and added her gratitude on time. “Thanks for the help.” She told him kindly in return. Her head tilted to the side where she looked past him and noted the burial rites which took place, her glance only brushed over the scene for a moment then came back to De.

“What happened?” Angel asked when one of them went inside, her finger edged from her back and pointed at the makeshift pyres.