The rune-cloaked cultist stepped aside to let the pair out the door, to the odd looks of the young and big fellows. Still leaving the door open, he opened his mouth, but the young man gave him a shut up glare and stood, putting the knives away.
"Well, I for one am glad we can get underway. I must admit, we hadn't anticipated humans to walk in, especially in a time like this, and on this day of the year too. So I must say, you lot came in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why he-" he threw his arm in the direction of the caravan master- "Brought you folks in is well beyond me. I don't particularly care what you lot do, though I suppose he thought a couple of you had potential for joining in. All of you maybe? Who knows. I wasn't aware it was anyone besides us seven or so. Feel free to leave, I do-"
The mud man stepped forward a few feet, turning a dripping head to look over all in the room. "No. All remove. He said so."
The young man sighed. "Come on, we aren't here to ki-"
The trapdoor to upstairs opened, and the highwayman poked his head out. "All is well!" he yelled with a british accent to the low background of sobbing before the trapdoor closed again.
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Outside, the rain had abated considerably and the fog receded, and the forests stood almost silently, inviting Raven's entry...