"Heh..." Lucifer said. "Yeh know, I'm not sure I could do this for free. It ain't very patriotic, sure, but I just want something I can live on. I've been in an' out of holes in the ground, I have barely any clue about who's tryin' to do what, why and who. I'm just looking for a little money to get a nice place in a quiet village with. Anythin' further than 'kill the other bastards' hasn' been factored in yet."

"Actually..." Lucifer said as he picks up the ladle again, drops it into the soup then clangs around again with the stirring. "I think the last time I heard about the king's kids, they were still kids. I can nae think, it's been a long ol' while. I mean, I just go from mine to mine as a blacksmith. I just make tool. I barely care about the mine and careless about the country it's underneath! It never reaches us down there so why should we care? I get about two weeks of updates just by bein' up here before going down again."

The ladle is dragged out, dribbling the broth all over the place. He takes a sip.
"Ah. Righ' that's done." He drops the ladle on the side of the cauldron to fetch bowls from his tent.
"This might be a tad plain. I ain't added much to this as I ain't got the ingredients an' I was expecting a larger crowd. Ah well..." He said as he hands the bowl of steaming hot soup over to Tikitil.
"It's warming at least. I might be useful on this little mission of ours. I'd have thought that most of us are better with swords and hacking bastards down than cooking something half decent. I might be able to make myself useful, eh?" He chuckles as he blows on his soup at that thought. Captive people to try recipes on. It would be fantastic.

The sun was bright in the horizon, and in a couple of hours would be set completely. In the flat lands, it would seem as if the only thing holding up the glowing globe would be the land itself. When she was a little girl, she would always watch the sunset with her father when he was at home. The sight always put her soul at ease, even if darkness followed the sunset. It promised a new beginning, to start fresh the next day, or to provide a rest for the actions of the day. And a rest was exactly what they needed, and in the distance was the silhouette Linton of appeared in the amber vista, beckoning them.

Asch sat upon her horse and held her injured hand up to the sun and flexed it. She gained back motor control and could grasp things with it but not for long and not continuously. She still had the sling wrapped around her neck, and around her black bird-of-prey laden cloak. Her shield shined on her back as well, and the hilt of a long sword could be seen above the shield as well. Even if the Army of Fera's promised was on the opposite side of the forest to their East, she was still prepared. Bandits and raiders tended to take the chaos of war and turn it to their advantage, raiding smaller settlement. Linton however, was large enough to be spared from the ravagers.

Among the town, various lumber and paper mills could be seen. Linton, due to it's central location and close proximity to the Great Forest was the center of the West's lumber and paper manufacturing, not to mention the other businesses that conducted trade upon the wood and various creatures and plants found within the Forest. Blacksmiths, tailors, shops, inns, taverns, all of the amenities one could find, would be found within those city walls. Asch looked upon the town from her vantage point on top of a small ridge, watching as lights from enchanted lamps and lanterns lit up in preparation for the falling dusk. Under her, the chestnut mare she road whinnied, tired from the day of riding. The gauntlet of her injured hand hanging loosely from the saddle pommel. She rubbed the mare gingerly with the hand before laying it back into the sling. "We're almost there. Just a little bit further," She whispered into the mare's ear. "Alright!" She said, calling back to her squad, "We're almost there. General Davyth had sent a runner to bring a message to an Inn to hole us up for the night. We should meet him inside the Bronze Claw," Lizardfolk ran, no doubt, "Let's move before the sun sets on us yeah?"

As ordered, they set out in the morning, when the sky was still a murky blue and dull orange. The Nagi that was with Strom, Akira was the one who woke her up this morning, with barely veiled contempt. She wondered why he had such disdain for them, but refrained from questioning a superior officer. She listened quietly and roused herself from bed and dressed herself.

She and her new squad had met at the north end of the camp when the sun was just peaking over the horizon. They had all been given mounts of their preference, hers a spirited chestnut mare named Berry. They set out without much bravado even from the commanding Strom. "You all know your orders. Make your way to the Pass and find Jensen, and assist him in whatever way you can. Good luck, and God speed. Don't make me regret this decision," He said, glowering at those in the squad and dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

---

Right at sunset, the group found their way into Linton. A quick explanation to the gate guards, some raised eyebrows to the rag-tag squad, and they were in. She had let the guards take Berry to the stables after she tied her gauntlet to her belt and then turned to her squad. "We're here. This is Linton. The city bases it's trade on the nearby great forests. That smell? That's the smell of paper making. It doesn't get too overpowering unless you get close to the paper mills... Just hope that our inn isn't," She said.

"With that, I suppose you all have leave to do what you want. Visit the shops, have the blacksmiths inspect your weapons, or whatever tickles your fancy. Just be ready to march tomorrow morning, we will reach the pass tomorrow, one way or another," She said, with a hint of command. It seems the night and day of thinking on her new position had managed to instill some sort of confidence in her. That or her constant prayers to Minerva hardened her heart. "I myself will be in the Bronze Claw. If you want to speak and get to know each other, meet us there. Apparently, the alcohol is free as well," she said, unsure. She wasn't much of a drinking person, and didn't quite feel comfortable about having her subordinates drunk... But they needed to unwind after a day of hard riding, and the potential deaths on the horizon. She wondered how much gold Davyth had to send with the runner to get that done...

She found the inn easily enough, and luckily it wasn't near the papers mills. Inside, she found a lone patron and a Lizardkin behind the counter. She was right, Lizardfolk ran. The man looked up from the bar and asked, "West Marches? This fellow here already paid, so welcome," He said before continuing his work. The patron at the table was a young harpy. He looked like a normal human, except for the fact of his wings, taloned hands and feet. His knees bent the same way has humans and he had human legs and arms to his knees and elbows, which then turned scaly. The Harpy raised a taloned hand and waved her over.

"You must be Captain Asch. The paladin. Here, I've already ordered you a glass of wine, didn't think you'd want anything stronger, seeing your position," He said, indicating the glass on the table. "I am the runner Davyth sent, Engis," He added. "Well met Engis. Are you to accompany us to Mellan Pass then?" She replied. The harpy laughed and shook his head no, "Luckily not. That place has griffins that will tear a harpy to pieces if they fly too high," Asch winced. She would have to relay this bit of information to Tikitil, Dova, and Aello. "So, where are your men?" He asked.

"Ah, I gave them leave to do what they want tonight. Some should be mak-" She was interrupted by a rather sardonic halfling, "I would have been here quicker, but Lady Captain's legs are too damn long!" Cora said as she drug a chair over to their table and sat. The table was still a bit too high for the halfling, even in chair, but she didn't seem to mind nor care, "Hey! Can I get a stout!?" She called to the lizardkin behind the counter. Soon enough, a pint was delivered to the Halfling, "Now that's a pint," She eying it greedily.

Asch chuckled as she took a sip of her wine.

Nayala had her cloak around her and her hood up as she was mounted on her big Stormsaber. It was large, strong and fast. It had two fangs that would rip through anything, but despite it's rather wild and ferocious outer, it had the heart of a kitten. A big softie. Nayala could play with him and sit around the fire, leaned against him. She always slept right next to him, wrapped in her cloak and snuggled against him. Vanir was his name and Nayala loved him with all her heart. She had come across him when he was just a cub, all alone hiding underneath a big tree that had been uprooted during a storm. She petted him and scratched him behind the ears as they rode for Linton. "Easy," she said as he seemed a little uncomfortable as she stabled him. The second she turned to walk away, he moved behind her. "Stay!" she said in a firm tone, and the big animal did so. With a sad expression.

The Bronze Claw was a cozy place. Bigger on the inside, than it looked from the outside. She could see Asch and Cora already there and presumed that the other members of their party were either on their way here, or somewhere else in town to do whatever business they had to attend to. Nayala smiled at her Captain and the people around her, and walked to the bar. "Excuse me, can I have a warm meal pleaase?" she said softly, and the Lizard behind the counter was refreshed by her politeness. He nodded and she payed what she owed him for it, and then stood around slightly awkwardly, waiting for her meal. Nayala didn't order any alcohol to drink, just water. She could drink oh yes, but right now she wasn't in the mood for drunken stupor. It was nice to socialize and have a drink, but Nayala could do just fine without. Her eyes caught Asch's again and she nodded, and tried to not make it awkward. In truth, she just wanted to eat and go rest in her room. An entire day of riding had taken it's toll and started to show. Some of them had talked about getting together and having a drink, but Nayala wasn't up for it. Not now at least, maybe after she'd had dinner and gotten rid of all her stuff.
The young woman brushed her hair out of her eyes and for the first time truly revealed her face. Her eyes had turned blue again since it was evening and the moon grew into its power. Now, she tried not to look directly at anyone. She wasn't exactly shy about it, or cared what people thought, but.. An inexplicable notion made her retreat into herself. 'You're just tired...' she thought to herself and managed not to look so glum.
"Here you go ma'am," the Lizardman behind the counter said. "Thank you so much,".
Nayala sat down at the nearest table, not far from the others, and dug in. This was the best thing all day, and despite what you might think about this place, the Bronze Claw, the food was actually delicious. Or maybe it was just because she was hungry?

After a night of light preparation, Masana had excused herself from the company of the blue-eyed (for she had indeed noticed this but chosen not to say anything, being that it wasn’t any of her business anyway) Nayala and returned to her tent. Her dreams had brought her no peace, fraught with the reckonings of grey battlefields stained red and brown. The wraithlike images flickered across her sleeping mind, and she knew them to be half-real already, but there was some small comfort in the fact that they were not specific. Only general misfortune awaited her, then, and not so unnerving as those maybe-prophetic dreams in which she felt herself die.

Still, she was awake in the predawn, and her small camp was broken with all due swiftness. It wasn’t something she was terribly practiced at, so it didn’t leave her with as much spare time as she might have liked, but she was still able to bathe and recheck her supplies without issue.

This particular morning, her new arrows and finely-wrought bow joined her other supplies on the caravan wagon. The others were being given mounts if necessary, and she knew that meant an increased pace of march. She could match it if she so desired, but the extra effort would leave her unbelievably tired when all was said and done, and the point of horses and such was to prevent this. Being a creature without legs, it was necessary to make do otherwise, and so she divested herself of as many of her burdens as possible before pulling herself up onto the lip of the caravan itself.

Closing her eyes, Masana concentrated, particularly attuned to the slight breeze of the air’s passage over her face, and the sound the birds made as they stirred to the day’s work. Such a thing was always the hardest the first time, but for she, who knew the unbridled joy of flight, affecting the transformation was no longer difficult. By no means was shifting her specialty, but she had a few different shapes available to her, and this was by far her favorite.

Within a few minutes, a large golden hawk sat upon the supply cart where Masana had once been, the uncanny reddish tint to its eyes the only giveaway. With a few powerful beats of its wings, it was aloft, and circled the camp a few times, until the body of soldiers moved off. Masana followed, gliding along on thermals for the most part, letting the natural currents in the air ferry her along much more easily than the friction of the ground would have.

Flying was a sensation that only flying creatures could understand, and she suspected that even a harpy would be hard-pressed to describe it in a way that would satisfy them. She found it to be above all else freeing, though even this description was inadequate. She supposed it might have looked a bit odd, that such a creature was clearly following after a troop of soldiers, but it was not as though their passage was meant to be particularly stealthy. Even so, Masana found herself occasionally with extra time, and on these occasions she would move off to one side or fly ahead, using her enhanced vision to scan the area for anything too problematic.

When they reached the place they were to rest that evening, Masana waited until everyone had cleared away from the supply cart before landing. It was easier to imagine herself in her own shape, and for this reason, the reverse transition was nearly instantaneous. Unlike her fellow Shaman Grubeck, however, she still had a highly-developed sense of modesty, and thus snatched up her robes immediately and folded them over herself, fastening them in place with deft, practiced motions.

She’d been close enough to hear the captain’s instructions, and figured she may as well head directly for the inn, as she had no other business to take care of. Masana did not imbibe as a rule, so she ordered tea instead of alcohol, situating herself with the Captain and those others so far gathered. She recognized all of them, and could attach names to a few faces, but not all of them. “I don’t think we’ve all been properly introduced,” she mentioned, a hint of apology to her tone, “I am Masana Kelvaras. It is my honor to serve with all of you.” From another, such formal, stilted language might have indicated that she was joking, but it was clear that she at least was perfectly serious in this assertion.

Lucifer sat on the front of the cart carrying the men's belongings along behind the rest of the caravan. The cart trundles quietly as the shire house in front plods ever onwards.

Lucifer flicks to the next page.

require the means to control any animal they have branded. These come in the form of Reigns. A Reign is a magical tie to the will of a creature only the Summoner in question is able to see. These ethereal strings are linked to the hand that carries the Summoner's insignia and pulling upon them can allow for control over the creature in a similar way to reigns being used to lead a horse. The strength of the creatures will dictate the number of strings needed for the Summoner's reigns to bring the creature under control. As each line from insignia to brand has a docility-inducing effect upon the creature that will allow you to bring the creature under the Summoner's control. The species of creature makes little difference in fact, only the strength of the creature's will. Especially skilled Summoners have been documented to be able to wrangle more civilized creatures such as Humans, Dwarves and Nagi. The most difficult still remains to be Elves. Such practices are generally illegal and amoral outside of magical experimentation.

"Yeh can summon people?" Lucifer mumbled, looking up from the book. Out the five books on magic the mage that had healed him back at camp, the book on summoning caught his interests for longest. We was looking through the theory for now, pondering what his insignia would be as Linton's buildings wafted by in the background. The cart comes to a stop and wobbles as the driver gets off. He closes the book and climbs out, wondering over to the Bronze Claws' front door.

As he understood it, Summoning seemed like the magical equivalent of Sheepdog Trials. They seemed rather low down in complexity and academic pecking order of most other magical schools. Probably because Summoners needed only two magical skills; teleportation and conjuring Reigns. It seemed the most accessible too. Like a wizard crossed with a cowboy. They're more practical in their use in either landscaping or maybe even war...

Lucifer wonders in, the tobacco smog hitting him immediately with hints of Mockly Leaf maybe...Someone's splashed out a bit in here. He walks straight for the nearest vacant seat, eager to continue looking through the book. He makes a beeline for the nearest table and flops down with three other women sitting there that he immediately blocks in favour of the book. Not that he didn't here them talking.
“I don’t think we’ve all been properly introduced,” Regal tones said on the other side of the table. “I am Masana Kelvaras. It is my honor to serve with all of you.”
He looks up at the three other women on the table and immediately recognises the wiry, young brunette from the General's tent.
"Wait...Your me commanding officer, righ'?" He said, looking up from the pages. The words "Summoning - A Beginners Guide" in some sort of metal was visible above his fingers that were covering the rest of the books cover. He looked to the Naga and the Halfling. "I can nae remember seenin' either of you two though...Where were you on the field back at Broken Plains?"

Twas not long before the sun peaked over the horizons and Grubeck awoke with fright, beads of sweat dripping down his body, salty droplets onto the earth. It was a strange dream that had overwhelmed the goblin but a simple one. A blade-no, a sword, double edged, ran through his body and had decapitated him. The man wielding the blade was nothing but a shadow figure of darkness; for there was no war roaring in the background but a blinding white light.

Afterwards, his lips twitched into a forced smile, and he took a long needed stretch. Grubeck sighed, packed up his goods, and spotted the mounts that layed before him and his crew. There were many regular mounts, horses, and such, but special mounts as well. As a shaman, Grubeck was intrigued by the varieties of mounts, one being a giant centipede! The second that Grubeck leaned towards it however, the other goblin, Urknenkt, took the special mount. Grubeck gave his kin a challenging look before he turned around back to what else could he ride. Admittedly, the shaman didn't really need a mount, but the rest itself was needed. Besides, he'd need to familiar himself with other creatures in order to mimick them. In the end it was a giant spider that had caught Grubeck; easily double his own size.

It was a fight to rather mount the black spider. Each leg was long and slender, sharp enough at the ends to stab a man, and it hissed, jumped back whenever a man or woman came within ten feet. The pitch black spider had an red hourglass mark on it's abdomen that seemed to glow whenever it felt threatened. The black widow, without a doubt, obviously felt threatened as Grubeck circled it slowly, back hunched, and fingers close to the ground to prepare for a sprint. "Come on, you damned, six legged-" Cutting off his own sentence, the goblin took off with a sprint to the spider's side who raised it's legs out to skewer the shaman. Diving under the beast to the otherside, Grubeck jumped on it's back, took hold of it's reigns, and despite reigning victory; the spider didn't give up on trying to throw him off. As it followed the caravan, it went ahead of everyone else on the trail, climbing up trees and then hanging upside down on a single thread, using gravity to try to get rid of the old goblin.

By the time the town was reached, Grubeck had finally broken in the mount, cursing it all along the way. The moment he got off the black widow, it early attacked him, stopping only at the limitations the reign held, tied to a tree. "That's right." Grubeck said, teasing it with a green finger in its reach before pulling it away. He decided to walk around town and noticed a couple of refugees, one of them, a harpy severly injured, nearly mauled to death. Admittedly, he eavesdropped their conversation and heard of the "griffin" that had done it. Griffins were a legend that Grubeck has yet to see, creatures with the body of a lion, head and wings of an eagle. If Grubeck could take a manifestation of such a creature; a great deal of destruction could ensue. It would take getting acquanted with the griffon, maybe eat it if it has to get to that point, then be it.

Such is the case with the larger animals; while if he tried he could probably mimick the black widow. Reaching the entranceway to the bar; an idea on how he could use his firebombs came to mine. Without the tar it wouldn't be combustable on contact but if consumed, with the help of a small mote of fire from his tribal staff, it could create a large flame and burn down groups. With that in mind, Grubeck entered the bar, and sat himself down near the dwarf. "Some mead' he told the barkeep, before looking at the dwarf right next to him, eyes keeping the words of the book. A large glass was settled in front of the goblin, so he took a quick swig, waited for the woman to finish talking, and said to the dwarf. "I could teach you how to see them." Without waiting for the dwarf's reply he turned to the cpatain with a curious question in mind. "Captain, where's all the war machines? No catapults, ballista, or even chariots. Looks like the forest tribes were more well armed then we are." Grubeck joked, taking a long swig of mead and awaited Asch's word. He did hope that Mellon Pass did have some of the mechaical creations. In his experience, they were very effective against buildings and ripped through anyone in their way.

Sunset was Mirryv's favorite time of the day. Sunsets were the transition between night and day, the peak of twilight. It was the golden hour, between day and night where her eyes could take in the true beauty of the world, not blinded by light or shrouded in darkness. It was sunset when the group arrived in Linton and they'd been riding since dawn. The captain rode a beautiful mare, Nayala rode a large Stormsaber cat, and Grubeck, the goblin whom she'd deigned to learn the name of, rode a large, black spider. Spiders were a symbol of Drow, their deity being the spider queen, and perhaps that was the reason why Mirryv felt uncomfortable around spiders. She'd rode several paces behind him on Severance, her midnight black stallion keeping an eye on the spider the entire trip. Severance was payment for a job 10 years ago, but Mirryv never found out his true age. Regardless, she makes sure that he always gets the best care.

The Captain released them and went to the tavern, the Bronze Claw. She watched the others go about before finally leaving to have Severance stabled. She paid the stable hands extra to make sure he was taken care of well, and headed to the outskirts of town. The sun was almost gone now, and the first stars were shining in the sky. Mirryv felt a chill as the night air settled in, and pulled her cloak closer. Sitting down on a rock, she removed a book from a pouch and began to read. Low light was no problem for her, as at night she could still see very clearly. This book, the 109th volume, was written by her mother, Milikh. It was part of a 192 book series that detailed the entirety of her mothers life. Mirryv, despite how much she despised her mother, needed to know everything about her if she'd wanted to survive. Her mother was crafty, and even though Mirryv had killed her and her young offspring, it was very likely that she had children who were not present that night. Children that might come back for revenge.

This particular chapter was something that Mirryv remembered dearly. It detailed the night that she killed her sister. In her mothers own handwriting, it explained how proud she was of her daughter, but that pride would be short lived. Her mothers words turned from proud to angry in the next chapter, describing Mirryv's betrayal and how she simply left. The anger her mother felt brought a smile to Mirryv's face, but she buried it quickly with a frown. How could a mother be so terrible? How could a daughter feel joy in murdering her? She looked up, and time had gotten away from her. She didn't know how long she'd been out of the town, but she figured that was enough reading for the night. She tucked the book back in the pouch, and walked back to town.

In front of Mirryv was the Bronze Claw. It was a typical inn, if nothing else, and she entered quietly. In front of her, several of the members of her group were enjoying drinks. She nodded, unsure if they noticed her, and checked in with the inkeeper. He explained that her belongings had not been unpacked because they would be leaving soon, to which she nodded and went to her room. It was small, but she didn't mind. She was just glad to be able to sleep in a real bed, the first time in days. Mirryv, not wanting to waste any of it, hopped straight in, and fell asleep.

Asch was deep in thought, oblivious to the playful banter between Cora and Engis. It seemed that it didn't take much of the drink to flush the Halfling's cheeks and set her to talking. Well, talking more than normal. Asch was busy deep in thought about the looming battle in the pass. The thought has lodged itself into a cranny in the back of her mind and festered. She took a sip from her wine and began to circle the wine in her glass, hoping to calm her nerves once again. It was like this the entire day, she would be fine and seemed unfazed, yet when she started to think, the thought bubbled it's way to the surface again. They could all die soon. But... But they all knew that joining up. She was brought out of these unhappy thoughts by a voice. A sure, regal voice from the Shaman Masana. Asch lifted her eyes from the wine glass and to the Nagi.

“I don’t think we’ve all been properly introduced I am Masana Kelvaras. It is my honor to serve with all of you.”

"Ah, well met Masana. I am Asch Hart- Er, Captain Asch Hart now. Paladin of Minerva, Goddess of Mercy. My father was a Knight in Mountainview, and my mother a Priest of Minerva... So logically, I became a Paladin. Why choose one or the other if I can be both, yeah?" She said with a playful smile and took another sip of wine. That was some fine wine, the lizardfolk must brew it themselves.

"Wait...Your me commanding officer, righ'?" The blonde dwarf asked her. He was reading a tome of some sort. Magical perhaps. That was a sight, she never heard of many Dwarven Sorcerers. They were always burly men with an axe as big as themselves. Well, in the stories they were. Asch figured that dwarves could become mages, why not right?

"Aye, I am," She replied. "Erh?" Cora mumbled chin deep in her pint when Lucifer asked her a question. "Oh, yeh, I was in tha battle," She said, "I was wit' her and... Uh.. Tak, where ya at?" She called for her Nagi friend. "Right here Cora," He answered from the corner of the bar, a tankard in his hand. "Yeh, an' him," She said returning to the pint. She met Asch's expecting eyes and realized she forgotten something. "Oh yeh! Me name's Cora Whitfield. I'll be yer ranger wit' me crossbow!" She finished. "So watch your ankles," Takeo jibbed playfully. "Right then, I am Takeo Amaya. Battlemage," The slender Nagi said with a bow

The joke caused Asch to chuckle. "Captain, where's all the war machines? No catapults, ballista, or even chariots. Looks like the forest tribes were more well armed then we are," A familiar voice asked. Grubeck. "I think the Generals wanted speed in this," She answered, "War machines like that would have slowed us down. Aside from the chariots... But I doubt your spider would like that very much," Asch said, smiling, "Besides, we're going to Mellan Pass. From what I seen when I passed through on my pilgrimage, it's a path with sheer cliff faces on either side, and Griffons roosting on the lips. War machines would just clutter the pass up and make fighting even worse."

She then leaned forward and looked at Engis, "Do you want to tell them what to expect when we arrive?" She asked. Engis shrugged. "Only what I gleaned from messages. The pass, as you know, is the most direct route to Mountainview, though the cliffs and bypassing the Great Forest. That's why it's so important. On the other hand, the best way for us to get to Hope's Breath is through the plains, as why much of our force is pushing southward as we speak," Engis explained, pushing the plumage down on her head, "But, as the Captain said, Mellan Pass, speed is the need here. It is of great importance to Fera's Promised, so you are to provide aid to Jenson and push them out of the Pass. You are the Vanguard until a larger force and be redirected to hold the pass." Engis said, shrugging.

"But that's not going to happen tonight. So rest well, eat, and drink. We leave in the morning. We will get to the Pass tomorrow," Asch said leaning back. A sigh came from the bar, an elf next to Takeo spoke, "Another hard day of marching Captain?" He asked, "Yes Jaren, I apologize, but we need to get there before the Promised launch an assault," Asch said. Jaren Diteal, an elven mage. He was normally quiet, the days march must have worn him out.

Asch took another sip of her wine "Why not get to know each other a little better? We are going to be fighting together in the coming days. Who wants to go first?" Asch asked.

Nayala watched the people who came in and out of the Bronze Claw from afar. She listened to the conversations coming from the table where her Captain sat, and several others. She had finished her plate and scraped it clean with her fork, and this was the best she felt all day. She ran her fingers through her hair as she leaned over the table and sighed, closing her eyes. A bath would not go unthankful. She brushed her hair back and let it fall behind her head, baring her face and neck. But it seemed that it slowly crept its way back, and fell around her face again, framing her gentle features. Nayala smiled and looked at a strand of her hair before snapping out of her daze and walked to the bar with her plate.
"I'd like to pay for this please," she said and smiled at the man behind the counter.
"15 pieces please ma'am."
"Here you go," Nayala said. "Oh, and could I have a bottle of summer wine please?"
"Certainly," the man answered and handed her the bottle. He gave her a smile and told her the price of it.
It made her feel more welcome than she had expected of this place. A reminder that even in war, not all things are what they seem. Once she had paid for it, she took it and went back to her table and sat down. Nayala poured a glass and stared at the wine, deep in thought. Mirryv, the awkward Drow girl came inside and went straight for her room. Not a word, not a glimpse. Nothing. Nayala was curious about her. Was she going to stay like this the whole trip? The half-breed woman stopped herself short. Trip... that sounded like they were on holidays. Like they were just going to visit someone. A deep sigh and a frown appeared on her face as she was reminded that they were at war, and that they could all fall in the pass tomorrow. Who knew what was up there? Who knew what was going to happen?
She tuned in on the table not far away and listened to them talk, looking over there when they didn't see. There was a Halfling, a Nagi, Grubeck inquiring as to where all the war machines were, Asch and an Elf. She couldn't help wondering where Lysander was, now that she hadn't seen him for a while. This Elf though, Jaren she heard his name was, looked the likes of a mage. At least Nayala thought so, and she was rarely wrong. She was good at this. Before she knew it, she had taken the bottle and moved towards their table.

"May I sit?" she interrupted and stood behind a chair, waiting for a reply. She looked directly at Asch, awaiting her reply. It was her own way of showing respect and letting her know, that she trusted Asch as her commanding officer. Nayala closed her eyes for a second and opened them again. Her now blue eyes were tired. They were glowing their bright blue again and that meant that her nightsight was improving. All of the Drow people had better eyesight at night. But in here, in the Bronze Claw, only the candles lit up the dark, and that could confuse her eyes sometimes. The food had done her good and she felt more in the mood to sit down and talk to her brothers (and sisters) in arms. Even if it meant that they were going to have a drink or two. Nayala was just happy that she wasn't the only woman.

The matter of choice was now... which mount was to carry the goblin count into battle, the stableman a snaketail that carried himself in a mannerism that Urknekt did not exactly felt too comfortable in, there was something not entirely right about him

Urknekt looked over the huge black warhorse, a stallion that weighted more than 3 of his kind combined, the beast towered over the short frame of Urknekt "As the goblin master can see, this is a mount fit for a king, o it has carried great men into peril... not so sure about having carried them out of it" Urknekt looked at the teeth of the horse "I dont suppose you have Ice ogres on your stables" The snaketail man took his pinky to his lips "I'm afraid that we do not know them by that name goblin master, what is wrong with this impressive specimen?" Urknekt looked at the beast and could not help to wonder if the Snaketail was making fun of him "Well to begin with a mount is something you must have quick access to, even to one of them tall ones the stallion would require an individual of an exceptional height to mount it with ease, my people would require some sort of... chair to get on top of it and in the mids of battle I can wager that would be dangerous, I might even be dead before I am able to grab him by the saddle"

The stablemaster shook the end of his tail, it was pierced with rings that clattered whenever he did that "Well my good goblin these are the ones most... conventional to the army but I assume the master and I know that sometimes just because a boot fits an elf doesn't mean we should use it" Urknekt could not help to chuckle at the joke "What are you getting at?" the viper smiled "There is a stock of much more unconventional creatures that the goblin master could find more to his liking, provided he was to take a look" Urknekt nodded in approval "Very well show me"

It was a good deal beyond the camp, the creatures housed there seemed to unnerve beasts and soldiers there and by the looks that the goblin was getting he understood the why all too well, 8 eyes like dark beads looked at him and the naga "What manner of creature is this?" Urknekt asked "Has anyone tamed these?" in the mountains of the north he knew of giant tarantulas that preyed on everything but ogres, they favored harpies as their meal for a reason "Not so much as tamed my good goblin master simply, teach them to carry weight with the promise of a feast afterward"

But who is it planning on feasting on?

"I'm not sold on that one I'm afraid keeping it fed would be an issue" the nagi nodded and they moved towards the next cage, like the other it had a piece of cloth covering it "well then how about this one?" before the cloth was fully removed Urknekt had to duck to avoid the dung that was thrown at him, it was a caged ape he could easily see the pros and cons that such beast would provide as a mount, a swiftness on hard terrains, a strength to carry him out and in but on a road he suspected his top speed would not be in par with a horse "How good is this one on the road" the nagi seethed of disappointment "It is a mount for special troops not for your common soldier my goblin master" Urknekt frowned and he said "I take it that the answer is no, this was a waste of time"

The nagi looked agitated by this and said "There is something else you could see, it is fit for your shot frame, it has sturdy legs to carry you fast and swiftly across the fields and it is not a predatory specimen, besides it has a magic trinket which makes it all the better" the goblin was intrigued now "very well show me"

Curled like a ball in its cage another insect awaited movement before showing itself off "What is that" the nagi placed in one of his fingers a dark green ring that he had been hiding in his pouch and said "This is a Berethill Centipede, found in the black islands were the lack of predators has made the insects there grow so large, it is a daunting place everything there just seems so disproportionate in comparison to what we find in our lands, if you think our spiders are big you should see the size of those creatures" he made some signal with the ring hand and the centipede began unraveling itself "Have you ever heard of the rings of power?"

"No" the goblin lied "Are they dangerous?" the stableman looked annoyed "They pose no danger, their crafting requires patience and magic and a defective ring of power could be the doom of its wielder, our magicians have become masters of this craft"

Wish I could say the same about those goblins that made ours

"I suppose one of those is related to this creature" The nagi nodded "Said creature has a name, you may call her Tropia and indeed this green ring allows me to talk directly to her understanding your Berethil Centipede is hte key to being a nightmare on the field, however one must be careful that the Centipede does not take over your mind instead"

The goblin drew his hand forward "let me try" the nagi looked at him with suspicioun "first we talk payment" Urknekt had been waiting for this, he drew a scroll and handed it to him "What does this..." the goblin cut him off "It means that I am under Captain Asch orders and I am to be supplied, expenses might be passed down to commander Strom"


*****

It was a real shame that the nagi did not housed Mamgons, now that would have been an imposing sight on the field, the goblin towering over buildings and trees alike, he would have an issue without a structure to ride the beast or the crew to man the firing positions and lead the behemoth forward, but it would look bloody intimidating.

Alas he had only seen them in the army once, they were more often than not more trouble than what they were worth, if you were lucky enough to have more than one at a time you had to watch out for the males not trying to fight each other either in camp or in the field for the Alpha position, the females were too elusive and not aggressive enough, and gods help you if you had a male and a female and they went in heat in the midst of battle.

Urknekt was content with his centipede Tropia, the need to place the ring had not surfaced as of yet but still he kept it at hand just in case, the riding position was something he would have to get used to, rather than sitting proud and tall like the tall ones did on their mares and stallions, Urknekt had to latch on the centipede's back like a monkey hangs on to a branch, he could sit at any given moment with his back pointing to the sky but that brought him out of balance and should the centipede have to rush few things stopped him from bending backwards and be as useless as nipples in a breastplate.

So he had to lean forward and tuck arms and legs to the centipede and take good care of his mounting chair, the nagi master had told him how troublesome it was to find a tamed giant centipede from the black islands, let alone a riding chair for the one he was riding one custom made with her attributes of length and weight in mind.

*****

He was entering the bronze claw now, late again but this time for a very different reason the first time he had been wenching as any goblin worth his mettle would, today he had been making bargains, he had sold the winged helm of the archer captain that he had slew, it had give him some good gold coins for his trouble.

Still the blacksmiths on this town were not up to the levels that Urknekt required, they had not yet been able to work the metal the same way the goblins of the north had, combining durability, resistance, light weight and the gears and cogs that increased the goblin's strength, hopefully somewhere else he would find that talent.

He entered and found the table were his group should be sitting, he recognized the old goblin, the female captain and the snakewoman.

“I don’t think we’ve all been properly introduced I am Masana Kelvaras. It is my honor to serve with all of you.” she was presenting herself "Aye hello there Masana, my name is Urknekt and gods know id like to get to know you better" he said with a perverse grin, the old goblin was making questions regarding mechanical things... maybe he could help Urknekt to keep his armor in shape "you should not bore the captain with dull things, cant you see that these tall ones got no love for destruction" he took a seat close to the goblin elder and the snakewoman, one by one he undid the locks on his helm and finally revealed his bald, gray face with his golden eyes "Lets talk about something interesting instead, but first!" he signaled the waiter boy and said "Bring us a good barrel cant you see these people are thirsty!"

"I could teach you how to see them."

"Yeh what, eh?" Lucifer mumbles, starting to look for whatever just babbled something about seeing things in his ear just then.

"Oh, yeh, I was in tha battle," Cora said, lowering her drink. Lucifer turns back to listen. "I was wit' her and... Uh.. Tak, where ya at?" She started twisting around to look for someone. Lucifer tried to follow her sightline.
"Right here Cora," Answered the handsome Naga raising a tankard, face half covered in his long think hair.
"Yeh, an' him," Another few gulps. She looked up at the stare Ashe was burning into her neck with. "Oh yeh! Me name's Cora Whitfield. I'll be yer ranger wit' me crossbow! So watch your ankles,"
"Heh, yeah..." Lucifer half-heartedly tittered. His former arrow wounds seemed to tingle for a second.
"Right then, I am Takeo Amaya. Battlemage," The pretty boy with the bow said, slithering over.
"Lucifer Bedfellow, good teh meet yeh both. Hang on..." He says as he slides of his chair, walking away from that table and straight to a chair on the table adjacent where Grubeck had chosen to sit.

It was hard not to stare at what seemed to be a face that couldn't wait to be in the ground before decomposing. The haunting skeleton smile made you wonder how he spoke at all like he does. You have thought words like "machines" would be a losing battle for someone without lips. But the decay seemed to go further than that with the scratches in his barely covered scalp. You could forgive anyone of wondering what necromancer was looking for this goblin somewhere.
"Hey you! What'd yeh say about seeing things? Yeh mean Reigns?" Lucifer said, raising the book to illustrate his point. Always careful to look at the time-stained eyes and not the nose hole. "Never knew we had a summoner. I did nae see any wildlife fightin' with us yesterday. We seem to have everythin' else under the sun though."

Tikitil drifted above the squad, her wings spread wide for gliding. She wished it was possible to sleep up here in the sky, where there weren't ants to dig in your feathers and where you could safely rest from your troubles. Unfortunately, she wasn't built for it; her shoulders ached if she kept her arms in the same position for too long, and she just couldn't sleep while flying. It had helped with avoiding crashing into trees back in the deep forest, but now, on a long march, Tikitil was beginning to wish the gods had made her different.

Like able to snort fireballs out of my nose. That's a useful idea they really should have capitalized on. Lots of business potential. Or maybe the ability to hypnotize people with a scream or a song... Nah, that's silly. Tikitil shook herself out of her thoughts, noticing that her flight had overtaken the group. She tilted, circling the group, keeping a watchful eye out for bandits or anything like that. Of course, she didn't know what a bandit would look like, so she just assumed they would advertise it. Maybe with a sign...

------

Tikitil's taloned feet left scratches on the cobblestones, leading her to frown and try to lighten her step. They probably won't like it if I scratch their street. Maybe I should buy shoes or something. Although even those metal claws made her walk funny and trip into things. Falling into a well would suck.

Of course, where she could find shoes for feet like hers was a mystery that would have to wait. They were supposed to meet at a tavern or something, right? Called... Some word she hadn't quite caught. Or remembered. But it had Claw in the name, right? Which probably meant it was located...

Tikitil looked up and down the street, noting the distinct lack of any directional signs that didn't rely on words she didn't know.

"Learn to read more," she scolded herself. "That way you can find things, and know when wanted posters have you on them." Except those had pictures, and she knew her name at the least. So that wasn't really a good justification. Either way, it was getting dark, and Tikitil didn't want to get trapped outside in a strange place. There might be gremlins in the sewers.

She continued down the street, occasionally stopping to sound out a sign in case it was where she was looking for. Eventually, though, she had to concede that she was, in fact, entirely lost.

An old human woman was sweeping a doorstep nearby, although the house was so run down she needn't have really bothered. When she saw Tikitil start towards her, she nearly ran back into the house.

"Do you know where an inn called... Uh... The golden, um..." Right, it helps to know where you're trying to go...

The old woman watched her carefully. "Are you with the army, dear?" she asked, slowly.

"Yes!" The harpy beamed proudly. "I think!"

With a disappointed huff, the old woman set the broom aside and opened her door. "Wonderful. More soldiers. If it's the Golden Claw you're looking for, it's on the mill road- Opposite side of town from the actual mills."

Tikitil had caught on to the anger, though, and was curious. "You don't like the army?"

The old woman's hand tightened on the doorknob, a pale skeletal outline in the darkening light. "They took my son away," she said, in a hoarse whisper. "What's there to like?" The door slammed shut, leaving Tikitil feeling vaguely concerned.

What's that supposed to mean?

But there wasn't time to dawdle, and Tikitil took off down the street at a skipping run, heading away from the vague terrible smells.

-----

Tikitil pushed her way through the doors of the Golden Claw, suddenly feeling very cramped inside the building. She always did, though, so she ignored the feeling and took a look around. The inn looked... Homeish. Like someone would live here, rather than rent the rooms out. Of course, they would have look like that, if anyone was going to stay there.

It's big, though, if it can fit all of us. I wonder if we kicked anyone out of their rooms? Not the most polite way to enter a town, she guessed. Maybe that was why the old woman had seemed resentful. Come to think of, the town had been practically empty of people, or at least of men. Probably. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference with other races, since their feat- Their hair didn't tell their gender. The length of it sometimes did, but after a few awkward moments Tikitil had learned to discount elves from that equation.

She moved up to the bar, miraculously without whacking anyone with her wings, and sat down on a stool. Only her head was visible above the counter, plus her claws clutching the edge. The lizardman bartender gave her an odd look. "Doubt you're old enough to drink, kid."

"What? How old do I have to be?"

"Old enough to sleep on the counter, at least."

"What? But... But I'll die if I don't drink!"

The bartender paused, his scaled brow knitting in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"It's illegal for me to drink?" Tikitil looked around, cautiously. I've been breaking the law and never even knew it! Oh no...

"What are you talking about drinking?"

"Water."

The lizardman could have hit his head against a tree. "Never mind, I was joking." He pushed a glass of water over to the harpy and moved on, exasperated.

Tikitil blinked. Does that mean I can still drink booze?

I’m not surprised,” Masana replied to the dwarf with the book. “I was on the left flank. I do not have the capability to fight on the front lines.” There was no shame in the statement, it was simply the truth. Besides, an army made exclusively of melee combatants would soon be buried beneath the earth, were anyone left to dig the graves.

The captain returned the greeting, and what she said turned the nagi woman’s fairly neutral expression into a smile. This must be the one Shaterna had mentioned then, the favored of Minerva. “It is good to meet another in the service of the Sisters.” Minerva- or as she was called by the nagi, Mikada- and Sharterna were generally considered to be related by blood, and sometimes referred to collectively as the Sisters.

Masana picked up her cup of tea, only to almost drop it again when she was addressed by a second goblin. At first, the nature of his comment didn’t sink in, and she was about to appreciate his enthusiasm for gaining knowledge of his comrades when she felt Shaterna’s amusement through the mental link they shared and reexamined the statement. If her complexion were not so dark, she was certain her ears would have turned pink. Had he really just-?

“Um.” It was the most inarticulate thing she’d said all day, possibly all week, but she didn’t know how else to respond. A lifetime interacting with priestesses, nobility, and soldiers who knew to keep their obscenity well away from the princess was not exactly good preparation for being bluntly hit on by a goblin in a bar, and when Grubeck took the silence as opportunity to begin drilling the captain on siege weaponry, Masana seized the chance to focus on something besides her unease, taking an uncomfortably-large gulp of tea and listening to their commanding officer’s explanation. It made sense enough, though it was a pity the advantage of such technology would not be with them. She knew only a little of the engineering behind war machines, but she was well-familiar with military tactics, and understood the power they held to turn the tide of a battle.

Nayala approached and asked if she might sit, and Masana wondered if her manners had been somehow remiss in not doing so herself, but then none of the others had either, and the Captain had not seemed to mind. She was not terribly familiar with custom here, and made a note to observe as much as possible, that she might figure out how it was best to behave.

There was a general inquiry, an opportunity for them to provide information about themselves, and Masana figured she might as well. “My family has a history of military service. I’m not… particularly suited, myself, but I’ve learned a fair dose of magic, especially in healing and weather manipulation. Should you need either of those things, I’d be more than happy to help.” A slight lift of thin shoulders, and Masana decided that was probably sufficient. She never had been too fond of speaking about herself, after all.

Urkenkt was right. The tall one's had no taste for destruction. "Speed" was the excuse that Asch had given but just as quickly as he lost his interest, he regained it again, when she mentioned the mytholgical creatures, griffons, were rooted to the roots of the cliffs. Such cliffs would no doubt be difficult to climb over but as a wolf it could be possible. Then what? Those creatures must have strength or either be big to do the damage he saw on the injured harpy he saw earlier, dubbed, "the lucky one". "I'd have to lure one of them out." He thought as he took a sip of of his booze, noting that they would have numbers up on those cliffs.

While he was pondering the mystery of the griffon, the goblin was approached by a dwarf who had started to suddenly talk to him, and at first was confused at his questions. After being shown the book, he remembered this was the fellow reading that summoning book, and started to reply to his questions.
"Summoner? Nah, I'm a shifter. Tried it once though, didn't like it, hate those animals." Grubeck said without reilizing the irony in his words and with all the seriousness he had. It was true, the goblin had Reigns, but he quickly abondoned them because when you didn't summon an animal it followed him and only he could notice. It was superstition in the end, his back turning every five seconds, expecting his Reigns to maul him when they got the chance but they didn't. They just tracked him down, anywhere and everywhere, like the trackers from the depths of hell then did nothing unless summoned. Those things weren't natural.

Midway to taking a large swig, he paused, then suddenly leaned towards the dwarf, carniverous teeth set about in anger and brows furrowed. "No wildlife?" Grubeck merely whispered as he stared down at the dwarf immediatly cutting off his response. "No vicious wolf tearing apart soldiers? No bear ripping out a juggernaut's throat? The fire raining down from the sky? That. Was. Me."
He leaned back in his chair and merely looked at his stout acquantence before he brought a hand over to his mouth and coughed on purpose.
"...and a harpy... Grubeck let out before resuming a normalcy along a gulp of beer. To see spirits, it takes years of meditation and practice for a shaman such as myself." pausing for a little bit, he leaned in towards his companion, and whispered instinctively.

"Buuuuut there is a quick way." The goblin said, giving the dwarf some hope. "You must be exposed to magic multiple times, over and over, again and again. After could you use meditation to quickly control The Sight. It's dangerous but easy to prepare and could be done in a day. Even I could do it! Leaning back to his seat, he finally finished his mug of booze, and filled it back up with the open keg right next to their table. After taking a long swig of the drink, he profoundly stood up and turned to everyone else at the table. "I'm going to capture a griffon!" Grubeck announced before pausing for a brief second. "Free drinks on me! For you, you, you, and that harpy over there!" He shouted, pointing to various people who weren't drinking anything that could make them drunk, knowing he had no money in the cloth that just covered his genitals from public view, and not caring from the alcohol.

The goblin soon sat back down in his chair and looked at the dwarvish fellow in front of him. "The name's Grubeck by the way. Got any questions? Or more of 'em books?

"Never knew we had a summoner."
"Summoner? Nah, I'm a Shifter. Tried it once though, didn't like it, hate those animals." The wizened mage said. Lucifer was trying to remember if he'd read about Shifters yet...Animals, right?
"Well, I did nae see any wildlife fightin' with us yesterday. We seem to have everythin' -"
Grubeck seemed to linger on a thought for a second midway through taking a glup as Lucifer spoke, then suddenly leaned across the table to cut his sentence off. The half-missing face still managing anger frighteningly well.
"No wildlife?" Grubeck sits back. "No vicious wolf tearing apart soldiers? No bear ripping out a juggernaut's throat? The fire raining down from the sky? That. Was. Me."He then seemed to cough on purpose into his hand. "...And a harpy..."
"Hey! I didn't mean nae offence, mate! Maybe I was in the wrong bit of the field or somethin'. I just didn't see anythin'. I'm only askin' yeh some questions." Lucifer said, raising his hands defensively as Grubeck settled back down.
"To see spirits, it takes years of meditation and practice for a shaman such as myself."
Which I ain't got...Lucifer thought to himself.
"Buuuuut there is a quick way. You must be exposed to magic multiple times, over and over, again and again. After could you use meditation to quickly control The Sight. It's dangerous but easy to prepare and could be done in a day. Even I could do it!"

"Righ'..." Lucifer mumbles. So, in order to even get into this stuff, he's got to be shocked for hours and hours? Makes Lucifer sound like a lantern being filled up. Now, this might be a quick thing but...What constitutes 'quickly' here? Days, hours? Minutes maybe? And what would the Shaman have to do to him? It just sounds unnecessarily painful somehow. It could be the ghoulish appearance of Grubeck that inspires such a thought but...The guy seems a little...unhinged too...

"I'm going to capture a griffon!" Grubeck announced, suddenly standing up. Well, there's all the evidence needed that this guy was a little bit nuts. Maybe magic does that too you? The book skips over accounts of Summoners gaining more and more control over wild life and touched on managing to take over more intelligent species. Maybe the power sends you nuts?

Eitherway, that Earth Mage back there seemed to have some sort of edge over him. Magic could be handy.

"Free drinks on me! For you, you, you, and that harpy over there!" Grubeck seats himself again, turning to Lucifer.
"The name's Grubeck by the way. Got any questions? Or more of 'em books?"
"Yeh. I got them off this mage back at camp just before he finished treating me wounds. I weren't too beat up but he was happy to give them to me. Seemed eager to get rid of them actually. I found that the Summoner one made a lick o' sense to me but I got a few basic ones on elements an' shootin' different types o' sparks like fireworks. I got them in the cart." Lucifer said, looking at the books cover then setting it down.
"So!" He continued, lacing his fat fingers in front of him on the table. "What exactly would you have to do to meh in order to get me seeing Reigns? Ghost stings don't sound all tha' hard teh be honest. And, do yeh think this could get done before we leave tomorrow? I know I wouldn't be wrangling anythin' more deadly than a bunny but-" He shrugs," Worth a go righ'?"
"Oh! And, err...The name's Lucifer. Lucifer Bedfellow." He was still trying to place Grubeck on the battlefield. Lucifer must have been far away from anyone around here at that point. He kept hearing mumbles about taking down juggernauts all the way here.

Naya caught the eyes of the Nagi she had conversed with back in camp. Masana. The priestess. She gave her a soft smile before taking her seat in the chair, across from her. She overherad the Goblin, and stifled a smile. He was unbelieveably inappropriate and it looked so odd, Urknekt hitting on someone like Masana. They were diametric opposites.
Nayala had taken notice of him before - how could you not - when he quite loudly had entered the tent where they had all recieved their orders. He seemed the type to make a fool out of himself for knowing better than everyone else. Or so he thought. Still, Nayala deemed it too soon to judge but still kept a wary thought at the back of her head. If he had given Nayala the kind of.. attention he had given Masana, Nayala would have been flustered and would struggle to come up with a polite reply. She could only handle so much at the moment. She was tired. The other Goblin, Grubeck, was talking to the Dwarf and she followed the two of them with her eyes. She took a swig of her wine and shifted her focus, looking over the rim of her cup. Her eyes found Cora, the playful Halfling. She brought a certain joy to the table, one that lifted Nayala's spirits and made the trip from today wiegh less heavy on her shoulders.
She listened as they were told about what to expect at the pass. Griffons. She counted herself lucky to be an archer, and a good one. IF they decided to take wing, she would still have the ability to shoot them down. Either that, or she should start making nets on their way there, first thing tomorrow. She had done it countless times before and could do it sitting on her large Stormsaber Vanir. As soon as she thought of him, she wanted to leave the table and go to him. She missed him and the nights when they slept under the stars, next to a fire and she could lie up against him. He was a precious mount and also very valuable in battle. Capable of outriding any normal horse and able to tear a mans arm off as easy as snapping a matchstick.

Masana introduced herself to them, and Nayala listened carefully trying to gather all the information she could, and kept her bright blue eyes fixed on her as she spoke. She could understand why Masana had reacted the way she did, when the Goblin had caught her unawares with that comment. She was used to Priestesses and to have a certain tone to her voice when she spoke, Nayala knew this, so in fact she was a bit on thin ice here.
The Elf didn't say anything but smiled brightly at the Nagi, and then shifted her gaze. Nayala finished her wine and looked up, she saw Tiktil. Watching Harpies walk always made her tilt her head to the side. She could never get used to how it looked. So curious and...wrong. Wrong in the way that it looked uncomfortable to Nayala, and that she thought they looked at home when they were airborne with the wind under their wings.
She stood up and walked to the bar again, asking for three pitchers of wine and a refill of her cup. The man nodded and refilled her cup. She sat back down and after a couple of moments, there came the pitchers. They were sat down at the center of the table, and the barkeep was about to turn with a polite smile.
"Wait." Nayala called and the big man turned.
"My lady?" he asked and saw the flicker of the Elfs eyes.
She didn't expect him to actually call her 'my lady', and she thanked the Gods for her darker skin tone, hoping that no one would notice that her face had turned slightly red.
"Here," she said and handed him payment for the wine, plus a little extra. "Thank you for your kindness."
"It is me who owes thanks." he replied and made a slight bow before walking away.
Nayala took another sip of wine and then turned to her Captain.
"Pardon me, Captain." She said and looked her in the eyes. Whether or not she knew about scouting reports, or how the road ahead looked, Nayala did not know. She intended to find out though, and would offer her assistance if her Captain deemed her worthy. Still, she did not expect an answer tonight but merely wished to make the offer.

If you had asked him before, Urknekt would have told you that he probably was not going to be very fond of this group of his with their stupid concepts of honor and duty and goddesses and crap like that, which, truth be told was devoid of any weight or meaning being just hollow words that a killer might use to paint himself a hero to its people.

If you asked him now, what he thought of the group, he would tell you that everyone but the goblin elder had their brains removed and replaced by horse`s excrement.

They were dull and talking about things of no real importance and as he could have bet his liver on, the elves proved to be unsocial freaks who stuck up behind and watched from affar, they reminded of cats, how he hated those creatures... they did however, manage to make a delicious stew when paired with honeyed orange.

He looked to the goblin elder but he seemed to be talking about capturing a griffon "Aye we should do that just to prove we can!" shouted Urknekt making his support to this endeavor clear

What in the bloody hell is a Griffon though?

He did not failed to notice that the nose less goblin was in deep talk with an icefolk with hair the color of wheat, mayhap it was not the right time to talk about necromancy with him at the moment, there was another individual who might offer insight but he was an orc and he just knew that no matter what they thought they knew it was useless to a goblin as himself.

That left him with the snakewoman, to hear her tell it she was some sort of priest,monk,wizard...thing and while he doubted she was an adept at communing with the dead, but since he knew well that the goblins were the risking type, thats why they had left their caves and managed to settle on mountains, rivers, hills and pretty much everywhere.

"Saaaaay" he said as he grabbed a seat near the snake woman "Kelvaras is it? do you by any chance know anything about... well i dont know how you southrons name it but" he realized something "you know what ill need a drink to talk of this stuff"

He lifted his arm and said "hey waitress two whiskeys here" the snakewoman replied "sorry I don't drink" Urknekt nodded and said "O I get it" he lifted his arm and said "hey waitress, two bottles of rum please" the priestess seemed struck by this and replied "Goblin I don't think you heard me, I DON'T drink" Urknekt nodded again and said "I know what you mean" he lifted his arm to signal the waitress again and say "Well have two cups of wine here" the nagi reflected something that Urknekt perceived as annoyance as she finally said "Goblin, Im not drinking any alcohol" Urknekt laughed "O why didn't you said that earlier" he signaled the waitress yet again and said "Hey well just be needing beers after all"

While the waitress indeed brought a bottle Urknekt never stopped to check if the nagi was drinking too, probably she wasn't thirsty but his head was dizzy by now "you know what woman, I think well pick this later I think if had enough for the day and plenty for the night as well, be seeing you later" Urknekt got up and mumbled "sweet dreams"

If he remembered it by next morning he would make a point to never drink so much without someone to undress him, it was difficult as hell to remove all the safety locks and to undo the cogs and remove the chains that composed his impressive infantry armor, putting a key in a keyhole proved to be a challenge to many when under the influence of alcohol and undoing such a complex system of armor was something that was well above and beyond the drunk goblin`s skills so he slept with some parts of his armor off and most of them still over him

He could not recall what exactly he had told the snaketail about the talk with the dead, had he used the name of necromancy to refer to the ability to speak with the dead, he could not tell you if he had gone into specific details or if it had been a really general talk but he wished she could do it, he wanted to talk to his son again, tell him how proud he was when he stormed that elven keep... and how his memory would be one of inspiration and valor when he died holding it, and how once Urknekt`s time walking on the land of the living was done they would finally make that trip to the Island of Aceplon.

He had other spawn, of some he did not knew even the mother`s name let alone the whelp but Lugush was special he was fast and cunning were the others were slow, he proved himself a leader amongst goblin kind and a formidable fighter, so formidable that they told Urknekt if he had sired the child with an ogre

Youre so ugly you might as well shack one

He smiled and his mind drifted away into the realm of dreams

Ashe cranes he head up to meet the Masana's eyes, offering a reassuring smile.
"We are a band of many. Where we find our skills lacking, one of us can make up for that. We need a pool of skills from which to draw solutions and both of yours are as valuable as anyone elses here. Healing could be more so. People like to be kept in one piece."

Nayala, sitting by Ashe, took another sip of wine and then turned to her Captain.
"Pardon me, Captain." She said and looked her in the eyes. Ashe faces her.
"Yes?"

Tikitil's face curved into a frown. It was quiet. Too quiet. A tavern was supposed to be full of jolly drunk people, and most everyone here seemed kind of sullen. That wouldn't do at all. Sullen drunks were for dumping in ponds, and nobody here needed to be dumped in a pond. A few people had filtered in since the soldiers had arrived- Laborers, mostly, a good portion crippled or otherwise made unsuitable for the draft or recruitment boards. Many looked at the soldiers with obvious dislike, and that could only lead to problems. What they needed was entertainment. And there was only one person who she could guess to go for for entertainment, and that was a bard. They had one of those, right? Had to be. Someone'd been singing before. But he didn't seem to be anywhere nearby. What a bother. Would she have to sing? That was a terrible idea, she had a voice like a squeaky door, or so she thought. And dancing wouldn't be a good idea either, or so her dad had warned her. What'd that leave?

Letting the drudgery go on, for one thing. No, never. Impossible. Boredom was heresy, or something. Yes. She'd start a conversation with someone, that's what she'd do. The captain and a few others were talking, but most of the squad... Brigade... Thing, were sitting around all asocial like. Unfortunately, Tikitil wasn't very good at introducing herself. Fortunately, she didn't let that stop her. She slipped off the bar stool, still carrying the glass of water she'd been given, plus a couple of spoons from the counter; All without noticing she had them. They vanished into her pocket while she looked for someone to bother, carefully walking over the tavern floor to avoid whacking someone with her wings.

Clatter. Smash. Evidently, not carefully enough. She'd turned to get around a table, just as a human male had set down his glass; Now it was on the floor, smashed to pieces when the tip of her wing had shoved it off. He blinked once, then turned, his eyes narrowing with anger. "You little bitch, look what you did!" He rose from his seat, and now the harpy saw just how big he was- A lumberjack, probably, one of the laborers fueling the the town. He walked with a heavy limp, his left leg twisted and mangled, but he still looked perfectly capable of snapping her in half like a twig.

Tikitil tried to protest that she didn't mean to, but she only was able to stammer, "I-I-I didn't... Didn't..." She stumbled backwards, her wings bumping against someone's back- She hoped it was someone from her squad, but didn't dare turn to look.

The lumberjack took another step forward, then stopped, noticing the insignia on her uniform. Normally, it would no doubt have shut the situation down, but this man was obviously passed the point where that would happen. The fact that a few others seemed to be backing him up- Three more men, one elf and two orcs, all glaring at her with scarcely disguised contempt- no doubt made him press on. "A soldier? Little girls shouldn't play with spears and swords. You lot are going to bring us to ruin. Take my friends away to die, leave us without any workers and more jobs to do than ever before, then come in here and act like you own the bloody place!" His hand twitched towards his jacket, where the hilt of something protruded- Probably a simple cutting knife for food. He didn't draw it, though. Not yet. "Clean up my beer, bird! You better damn well pay for it, too!"