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Eyes glinting in the darkness like a cat, Eòghan watched the encampment from the distant shadows, chewing on the edge of his pipe thoughtfully. The embers within the bowl flared alight at each puff, casting sharp silhouettes against an already angled face. Laughter and idle chatter drifted along the night's air, and there seemed to be comraderie at the camp already - a good or bad sign, depending on which you looked at it. Either this group was very open and welcoming, or they knew one another intimately already, and would be uneasy against outsiders such as himself and his companion. However, it wouldn't be the first time wary or even unpleasant eyes had been cast their way, and Eòghan had suffered enough foul gazes to put up with some more. Especially when it came to another job - a man had to eat, after all.
"Mallow - they look pleasant enough. Shall we introduce ourselves?" His husky voice betrayed his Kaelian roots, what with the light brogue to his accent; any roughness present he preferred to attribute to tobacco and mead, or simply sleep - he had too much of the former and not enough of the latter, and altogether they had an adverse effect on one's vocal cords.
The skayleigh in question nodded his accordance. From what Mallow had observed of those at the camp, none of them seemed particularly inclined to cause serious injury to newcomers. The fact that most were well armed, however, betrayed any true sense of security. Mallow and Eòghan weren’t exactly the most popular fellows around a campfire, due in part to the insignia of the now defunct order Mallow once belonged to; the Holy Order of the Bloodied Cross had a reputation across the Isles and Bania, that had no doubt spread, to some varying degree, to nearby countries. The imagery of the Order was a penance that Mallow had to bear, until his sacred mission was at long last at its completion.
To Eòghan’s question, Mallow nodded sagely. “This is a juncture for travel, is it not? Doubtless we will find at least one friendly face… Ah, perhaps an ignorant one would do just as nicely. I think it best that we reveal ourselves, now, or soon.” His voice was smooth and musical, in harsh contrast to his companion’s. Softly spoken, with a certain sharpness to the edges, Mallow’s timbre was a gently stirring ocean, hidden depths only barely hinted at during normal speech.
As the two approached, it was clearer to see the diversity of those currently camped in the cairn; a pair of singing dwarves, several humans (one even looked to be a knight of some sort), a Drabarian, and several merchants dotted around the encampment. It even had a blacksmith - yes, the place was far more lively and cosy that Eòghan had first assumed, and this could be somewhat troublesome considering the job. Cosiness meant many could grow far too lax... and while the sound of music was charming to his ears, part of him shuddered to think of what could happen if a camper were so blatantly loud in the forests of Bania. There were creatures in that land that could hear your pulse if it were quickened enough through passion or fear... a song and dance would bring far more attention to oneself than would be wise.
Shaking this thought off, Eòghan reminded himself somewhat chidingly that they were no longer in Bania; although no wilderness could ever be seen as truly safe, Umber's Cairn was hardly a monster-ridden area. As far as he was aware, anyway.
"Do you suppose there is somebody in charge here? Or simply a free-for-all?" He asked Mallow as the pair made their way in - gazes no doubt drawn to the size of his large companion. He could hardly blame them; the Skayleigh were not known for diminutive statures, and Mallow didn't try to blend in in anyway. As for Eòghan, he liked to think he looked fairly ordinary, but even he recieved some strange looks without his taller friend beside him.
Mallow pointed at the two singing dwarves peaceably. “Those two seem fairly friendly, Eòghan, friendly enough at least.” Mallow’s lips quirked, imperceptible to anyone but his companion. “There doesn’t seem to be any recognizable leader among this ilk, though weapons are certainly aplenty.” Needless to say, the lands they traversed could be treacherous, making arms and armor commonplace, but that only made caution all the more necessary. With so many swords and other deadly weapons about, it was prudent to determine friend from foe as quickly as they could.
So the pair weaved their way across the camp, towards the fire, dwarves, and drabarian. The two took for themselves seats around the fire, and Mallow extended a gloved hand towards the dragonspawn. “Well met.” Though he was apt at hiding it, a snake of anxiety began to coil around Mallow's heart. If this drabarian knew of Mallow's order, or cared much for the affairs of Bania, trouble might soon be in their future.
"Mallow - they look pleasant enough. Shall we introduce ourselves?" His husky voice betrayed his Kaelian roots, what with the light brogue to his accent; any roughness present he preferred to attribute to tobacco and mead, or simply sleep - he had too much of the former and not enough of the latter, and altogether they had an adverse effect on one's vocal cords.
The skayleigh in question nodded his accordance. From what Mallow had observed of those at the camp, none of them seemed particularly inclined to cause serious injury to newcomers. The fact that most were well armed, however, betrayed any true sense of security. Mallow and Eòghan weren’t exactly the most popular fellows around a campfire, due in part to the insignia of the now defunct order Mallow once belonged to; the Holy Order of the Bloodied Cross had a reputation across the Isles and Bania, that had no doubt spread, to some varying degree, to nearby countries. The imagery of the Order was a penance that Mallow had to bear, until his sacred mission was at long last at its completion.
To Eòghan’s question, Mallow nodded sagely. “This is a juncture for travel, is it not? Doubtless we will find at least one friendly face… Ah, perhaps an ignorant one would do just as nicely. I think it best that we reveal ourselves, now, or soon.” His voice was smooth and musical, in harsh contrast to his companion’s. Softly spoken, with a certain sharpness to the edges, Mallow’s timbre was a gently stirring ocean, hidden depths only barely hinted at during normal speech.
As the two approached, it was clearer to see the diversity of those currently camped in the cairn; a pair of singing dwarves, several humans (one even looked to be a knight of some sort), a Drabarian, and several merchants dotted around the encampment. It even had a blacksmith - yes, the place was far more lively and cosy that Eòghan had first assumed, and this could be somewhat troublesome considering the job. Cosiness meant many could grow far too lax... and while the sound of music was charming to his ears, part of him shuddered to think of what could happen if a camper were so blatantly loud in the forests of Bania. There were creatures in that land that could hear your pulse if it were quickened enough through passion or fear... a song and dance would bring far more attention to oneself than would be wise.
Shaking this thought off, Eòghan reminded himself somewhat chidingly that they were no longer in Bania; although no wilderness could ever be seen as truly safe, Umber's Cairn was hardly a monster-ridden area. As far as he was aware, anyway.
"Do you suppose there is somebody in charge here? Or simply a free-for-all?" He asked Mallow as the pair made their way in - gazes no doubt drawn to the size of his large companion. He could hardly blame them; the Skayleigh were not known for diminutive statures, and Mallow didn't try to blend in in anyway. As for Eòghan, he liked to think he looked fairly ordinary, but even he recieved some strange looks without his taller friend beside him.
Mallow pointed at the two singing dwarves peaceably. “Those two seem fairly friendly, Eòghan, friendly enough at least.” Mallow’s lips quirked, imperceptible to anyone but his companion. “There doesn’t seem to be any recognizable leader among this ilk, though weapons are certainly aplenty.” Needless to say, the lands they traversed could be treacherous, making arms and armor commonplace, but that only made caution all the more necessary. With so many swords and other deadly weapons about, it was prudent to determine friend from foe as quickly as they could.
So the pair weaved their way across the camp, towards the fire, dwarves, and drabarian. The two took for themselves seats around the fire, and Mallow extended a gloved hand towards the dragonspawn. “Well met.” Though he was apt at hiding it, a snake of anxiety began to coil around Mallow's heart. If this drabarian knew of Mallow's order, or cared much for the affairs of Bania, trouble might soon be in their future.
