Morndath clicked her tongue but turned her back to the group and waved Cyanwrath to follow her for a second, stopping to talk with her evident second in command a few paces away from the adventurers. They whispered their words, though they also accompanied them with some waving of their hands. In the meantime Torus was helped back to his feet and the man on his right mumbled to his ear: "Friendly advice: Don't get cocky with the wearers of purple." With that done, the guards stepped back, giving them the same breathing room they had had when the moment to talk had started off. And soon it would be concluded just as well.
"Well, I will need to add you to my ledgers, but that I can handle without your help since I know your names. As for your reward for capturing the very champion of Greenest instead of just any prisoner... I'll need to look into that matter just a bit more before I can promise anything. Since you came here seeking to join our ranks, consider that wish granted. First things first, we need more hands at the mess tent. Head on over and ask what there is to be done. When it comes to resting your head for the night, I'm sure you can figure something out. Our tents are not available for the freshly hired", she instructed, likely to the surprise of the many in the group. The guards behind Parum and her motley saluted and cleared themselves from the tent. They hadn't really seen this coming either, but orders were orders. If they were not found to be infiltrators, they were to be left be.
At the mess tent those of the group who could be trusted with cook's utensils were given those to handle, the operation overseen by a portly cultist who appeared as if he enjoyed the offerings of the kitchen a bit more than appropriate. While this job would go for a few hours, Brannor who was currently on waste disposal duty for the horses of the outriders would hear a few quite interesting words being spoken. They came from a presumed cultist wearing quite ordinary gear, but they lacked had a hideous scar over their right eye and nose and were smoking some rather elaborate pipe. Their message to the guards at the camp entrance was simple, but disconcerting. "Do not let a group of blue haired halfling, a half naked half-orc, a senile appearing old man who may or may not take the shape of a bear or other mount of the orcish blood and a pink haired woman with a bow leave the camp. Most important ones would be the old man and the blue haired girl, so stop them even when alone. Morndath does not want them going." With the message relayed, the man would then leave.
Rebrer happened to stick near to the mess tent as this man then appeared around there, hanging around the outside of the place while still smoking their pipe. In the time he had spent with the cult, he had come to know this man. Krets, another inquisitive soul. Problem was, Krets was fiercely loyal to the cause. And them hanging around after that meeting... the wearers of purple had set their own spy onto the newcomers. And Rebrer could occasionally feel the man's eyes on his neck just as well. They were on a clock.
@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Gordian Nought@Irredeemable@Lucius Cypher@Ryonara