RP:Second Leg: A Strange Appearance
Background
This is part of the Anders' Expedition story arc.
On the morning after the battle, the group finds little rest untill strange fates catch up with them.
In the Xalious Mountains
The Northern Highlands is what the rangers of the Sage Forest call this region. This is the place you hear so much about, and that it is some of the roughest terrain in all of Hollow. Its still south far enough to prevent the frost or snow that you see further north of here, but the air is chill and crisp. Great peaks adorn the horizon, and strange things have been heard to live there among the cold and snow. Bears, larger than any seen to the south, and strange buildings of death and magic are just some of the tales told about this wondrous land. To the north there seems to be a range, and beyond it some say an estate made of ice or crystal. You have also heard the tales of the castle of a great and powerful mage, although those could be just myths, and wives tales. To the south is a path which leads off in many directions, while to the east is a small castle or building of sorts.
Players:
- Anders - Leader
- Cornelius - Dandy
- Veriun - Guide and Advisor
- Taikahn - Eccentric Disco Lizard
NPC's:
- Anathras - Magican
- Archibald Smith - archaeologist and anthropologist.
- Bob - Knight
- Cutty Stabber - Rogue and Treassure seeker
- Mechator - Mechanical pet
- Methras the eagle eye - Ranger
- Reginald Swertzein - Outcast warrior
- ...and Phil
As the rays of the sun finally climbs their way above the stone curtain of the mountains enveloping the camp of the expedition accompanied with the sounds of animals' different routines the call of morning has come. The camp itself, Consisting of a small gathering of tents and the like as well as simple constructions around a crackling fireplace. There's only minor movement within the vicinity, mostly from weary adventurers tumbling in heavy sleep from the past day's trials.
Anders is sitting next to the knight around the campfire, the light from the fire, combined with the day's first sunlight glistening off the knight's polished armor. Those who were awake long enough to pay attention to such could verry well swear that neighter has slept any during the night. The zombie has been patrolling the proximity of the camp for most of the night, seemingly restless, comes walking back to his master. "Hey boss. Think its time to get movin' yet?" The necromancer merely nods as he rises from his seat, closing his old tome, replacing it beneath the cloak. "Wake the others." The zombie nods. "Finally." he mutters, as he walks over to the closes tent. He batters the sticks holding the canvas above the ground. "Ey! Wakey wakey. Sun's up an' it's time to move!" He moves on along the tents and windguards to wake the rest of the party, atleast those not scrambling to get up without his help. The knight replaces the gauntlets, that had been put aside as he was tending the flames to make sure the fire wouldn't go out, (a duty summarized by him pointing at the embers and burning logs with a sharpened stick,) and tightens the straps holding the gauntlets tight towards his hands and wrists. He drops the stick into the flames, and stands up as well.
Cornelius rested well the night before, and greets the new day with verve. Prior to dawn, after a good stretch the dandy throws himself into a graceful sequence of training drills, a flowing dance of whirling dagger and sabre punctuated by the occasional acrobatic feat. He only ceases his activities when Phil's assault on tents hint to him that it is time to clean up and kit up for the day ahead. Unfortunately for Archibald, it was his tent Phil approached, and a feeble "Sod off! I was having the most wonderful dream! Another ten minutes!" filters through the canvas.
Veriun didn't bring a tent. Nor was he anywhere to be seen. Others were, however quite visible. Especially a small woman bursting out of a miniature 'tent' consisting of a blanket held up with a few brittle sticks dressed in a long white gown (which only made her look more childish then ever) “MORNING AMBUSH!!” came the battle cry as the necromancer found himself the target. While the gnome hurled trough the air like a very-much alive ghost Reginald sat up beneath his improvised wind-cover “I need booze.”
Anders gets hit by the Gnome directly, and is knocked over as if he weighed verry little. The necromancer topples onto the ground with the gnome ontop of him. The Zombie, who has by now finished his first round among the tents, returns to Archibald's tent. And as the archeologist has yet to emerge, he leans in between the tentflaps, and grabs the snoozing youth by the legs, and gives the limbs a mightily powerful tug, fully intent to drag him out onto the ground with one single move.
Cornelius || Archibald awakens with an undignified "Wha..? Who?" as he is dragged forcibly from the tent, still in his sleeping bag. He clamps his eyes shut and groans "Ugh, the smell... Who went and died in my tent. B'groff." Apparently not a morning person, Archibald buries his face back in the small pillow he was clutching, fully intent to re-enter the dream seraglio his fortunate imagination had conjured the night before and continue his discussion on Old Gualon with the scantily clad women scholars residing in that pleasant place. Cornelius smiles as he ducks into the lad's tent to find his own equipment and armour.
Veriun was still absent as the necromancer fell with the gnome standing on top of him, arm raised as if pointing a sword skywards. “VICTORY IS MINE!” she exclaims, to the dissaproval of the warrior now making faces at the sounds. “Too freakin' loud...” he mutters between sips from his no-longer hidden bottle of unknown alcoholic contains. Anathras made his way out of the leaf-covered hovel-like tent he and his brother shared. Saying nothing.
Anders doesn't seem phased, but the Knight turns about, gently grabbing the gnome, placing his hands beneath her armpits and lifting her not unlike a child. He replaces her onto the ground. "You allright, sire?" he says to the necromancer, who simply gets up, dusting off his clothes. "Quite." The Necromancer finishes and gazes around the camp, nodding slightly towards those who had risen from the night's sleep, even those who seemed more alike zombies than his zombie companion. The zombie in question seems annoyed by the archeologist's unaffected state after having pulled him out in the open. He looks around. "Someone give me some water."
Cornelius || Archibald nestles down into his pillow, and tugs his sleeping bag back over his shoulders until all that shows is his messy mop of hair - his appointment with concubine historians was at a vital point where they were going to explain the pictoglyphs he had discovered in an old building in sunken Gualon. Cornelius, still in the tent, starts the process of donning cuirass and gorget.
Cutty responded to the knight's actions by flipping in the air as he put her down, giving him a backwards flip-kick to the chin and then another (although sideways) with a surprising amount of force. Should the knight fall over he'd find the gnome standing triumphantly on his chest. “Victory number two! I am invincible!!” she exclaims to the second elf to emerge from the hovel-tent on his way towards the fire where a pot was now bubbling in a hopeful tone. Although she finds herself ignored.
Anders seems surprised as the knight goes down. Bob seemed highly surprised by the gnome's sudden aggressive action, and falls flat on his arse. "oof!" he grunts again as he is pounced, and pinned to the ground by the gnome standing on his chest (although one could make the argument that Bob didn't make much resistance to the Gnome's last action). The zombie seems annoyed as no one answers his request for water, and he walks over to the packs, he takes a water-skin from the packing. The necromancer interrupts him for a second. "Don't use too much." The zombie grunts, and walks back to the archeologists, dumping the equivalent of a glass on top of the young scholar's head.
With a spluttering sound Archibald is dragged away from the dream harem, the question of pictoglyphs remaining unanswered as he is shocked to full lucidity by the cold water trickling past his ears. With a display of bizarre athleticism he arches and flexes his body within the sleeping bag and, caterpillar-like, scoots back inside the tent to where Cornelius is repacking his equipment. The dandy raises his eyebrows as the youth fumbles for his goggles and puts them on before looking around "Oh drats, and it was such a promising dream too." Cornelius shakes his head and steps out of the tent. Inside, when the dandy has left, Archibald retrieves the leather sheet branded with Gualon glyphs from his sleeping bag and mutters to himself "Dammit, and I was so close this time." With a sigh, Archibald starts packing his gear.
Veriun came walking at a slow pace about the same time as the zombie dumped water on the youngsters face, the gnome started laughing maniacally and the human got up and walked over to the two elves to get his share of what seemed to be a simple stew in a wooden bowl he brought from his pack. The avian showed no sign of having been doing anything specific. Perhaps he'd simply been on a walk. It became none the clearer as he answered the elven archers question “where have you been?” with the word “Around.”
Anders looks down onto the knight, whom is still pinned beneath the gnome even as she laughs maniacly. The knight makes a weak attempt to free himself from beneath the Gnome whom is still dressed for sleep. "Pardon me my lady, but could you get off of me?" He seems to try to not topple the little woman, and even as pinned on the ground takes her convenience before his own. The necromancer chuckles slightly, and then turns and walks towards the elves and the avian in a collected pace, yet says nothing. The zombie laughs. "Ye see, you're not going to learn nothin' unless we get there."
Taikahn was having a spot of difficulty. Surfing energy surges in the Void can be tricky unless you can do advanced calculus in your head. Fortunately, Taikahn is quite clever. Unfortunately, even his math skills weren't enough for a sudden blast of temporal turbulence that hit him out of nowhere and dropped him back-first onto a sort-of flat stone nearby. It hurt, and he felt tingly all over, and his thought processes kept jumping all over the place. He just lay there for a moment, and then: "Mechator, remind me to--" and from there it was garbage to everyone but Veriun, assuming he landed someplace nearby and they could hear him.
Archibald was certainly flat, and possibly stone-like. At least, he wasn't moving anywhere with the Preklek's weight upon him. With a muffled grunt the begoggled youth with the messy hair politely asks "Excuse me, whoever you are, but could you please get off me? And please ask that contraption to leave my pack alone." The sheer unlikeliness of the situation hinted at either a deity's meddling, the universe having a sense of humour, or statistical variance laughing at mathematicians everywhere in a spiteful kind of way. Cornelius, in the act of leaving the tent, whirls at the sound of Archibald's forced exhalation from the Preklek's impact. "Egads, you don't see -that- every morning" He flings wide the tent's entrance to let more light in.
Veriun turned his head to face the new center of attention as the gnome ran by him with the knight's helmet (which she stole) held up high like a war hammer. “Depends on ones morning habits, doesn't it?” he asked Cornelius with a smile as the gnome broke loose on the “Evil Lizard thing!! Prepare to be defeated!”. Taikahn would, as a result, find himself the victim to a barrage of rather harmless but loud strikes from the steel helm at the hands of the gnome. Reginald simply stared with the expression of a man suspecting he was suffering drunken delusions while the elves laughed at his expression.
Anders also gazes at the new center of everyone's attention, seemingly puzzled. But how anyone could tell is a mystery. The knight regains his feet, seemingly less than pleased that his helmet was stolen. Now, with the obscuring helmet removed, the face laid bare is that of a handsome man indeed, if it was not for two visible flaws. The man is pale as a ghost, all, or atleast a large part of his blood seemingly drained, and his eyes devoid of life. The zombie in the background laughs. "Batter that scaly fiend, eh!" he cheers on the gnome's loud onslaught.
Taikahn was suddenly the center of attention, an unhealthy position for an eccentric lizardman whose just had a mad surfing accident. The first realization upon coming back to himself was that he hadn't landed on a stone, but a person. The second realization was that said person had just tried to talk to him and he'd missed every word, and the third was that someone had just rushed him and was loudly thwacking him in the stomach with a helmet. All this was a lot of information to handle--fortunately for his sanity, his pet had a terrible headache already and was highly irritable. How a mechanical cat can get headaches, I don't know. Ask him yourself. The point is, the eight-inch-tall glass-and-silver ball of claws and electrical arcs hurled himself from Taikahn's pocket directly at the source of the clanging noise, and was abruptly smacked in the face by one of the strokes of the helmet and slid off to the side, trying to collect his wits with a buzzing and clicking sound. Meanwhile, Taikahn sort of lazily fell off of the being he'd fallen onto and held up a hand in a gesture for peace. "If you'll give me a moment to catch my breath--"
Cornelius chuckles and leaves the tent, responding to Veriun "Life would be very interesting indeed if such was one's typical morning, old bean" Archibald in the meanwhile finds his wide-brimmed leather hat and jams it on his head, hiding most of the moppish hair underneath it. Shrugging on his leather greatcoat, He picks up his pack while Cutty is distracted by lizard and mechanical tiger, but hangs around to see what the strange being is about to say
Veriun nodded briefly in confirmation towards Cornelius, seemingly caring very little of the bizarre situation. The elves were now watching as well, one snickering and the other wearing a curious expression, having given up on the human who had, himself, given up on understanding the events transpiring in front of him. The gnome ignored the preklek, flying onto him like a nightgown clad hurricane armed with solid steel, thwacking at twice the speed. “No mercy for the aliens!” she cried before giggling uncontrollably.
Bob, recently unmasked, walks up to the wildly battering gnome, and gently lifts her off of the seemingly not so evil alien (as he has yet to eat their little companion), and reclaims his helmet. Replacing it over his head swiftly. "My lady, you should consider your dignity. Please get dressed before you thwack... aliens such as this." The knight seems to be somewhat cold towards the preklek. Phil seems disappointed that the prek-bashing has come to an end, whilst the necromancer seems to have regained his ordinary neutral demeanour.
Taikahn had comically flung an arm over his face during the thwacking and had just come to the conclusion that this was mostly a joke and was considering turning the gnome over and tickling her, since he had a greater reach and would be able to grab her even though he was unarmed, but then a rather pale knight pulled her off of him and he sighed. Both with relief and slight disappointment that he hadn't gotten to enact his plan. He stared at the ground a moment, catching his breath, then looked up at the knight and recoiled. That... was not a natural look, and it creeped him out. "Uh," he stammered, attempting to find words in the face of this... whatever-it-was-that-looked-too-similar-to-an-undead-for-comfort, "erm, ahhhyyrgmmthankyou?" The last two words sort of squeaked out and the prek remained seated. He tried very hard not to stare at the male's face and finally managed to turn and look at the side of the tent. "Ah," he cleared his throat, "where am I?"
Archibald peers through his goggles at the lizard man. "Umm, you're in Xalious...ish. Were in the mountains somewhere. Where the gosh did you come from?" Cornelius, for his part, checks on the wagon and the mules, ensuring the straps and wheels aren't showing signs of dangerous wear-and-tear.
the gnome intercepts the Knight's attempt to put his helmet back on when he loosens his grip on her and takes said helmet, hurling it in a rather weak throw towards the preklek “There's no escape!” she exclaims triumphantly before she starts her skillful attempts at wriggling loose from the valiants grip. “Unhand me, Sir stinky!!” she shouts loudly, the people outside having resumed their morning rituals and habits, accepting the situation to be beyond them.
The knight seems displeased at being called stinky, but unhands the lady as requested. He then turns towards the preklek, reaching his hand out. "My helmet, if you please." The zombie in the background still finds the situation continually humorous, and smirks somewhat before doing something productive with his time, hauling packs back onto the back of the wagon.
Taikahn , despite staring at the wall, had not developed tunnel vision and saw the helm coming out of the corner of his eye. His left arm shot up and around, redirecting and absorbing the motion of the thrown headgear until it was still and silent in his hand. When the... knight...? reached for his property, Taik immediately acquiesced and offered it to him almost before he'd finished speaking. "Heretakeit." He finally got to his feet and went to retrieve the scrambled Mechator while thrusting the helmet into the knight's arms and walking past him, not caring if he actually had the helmet or not so long as he could get away from close proximity. "Xalious, hm?" He stalked out of the tent and attempted to calmly put as much distance between him and anything that looked undead as possible. "I see. And," Archibald might need to jog to catch up by this point, "it's too difficult to explain right now." He focused very very hard on Mechator, looking the cat over and making sure nothing had been dislodged.
Ever diligent in the pursuit of knowledge Archibald trots after the Preklek. "Well, if you didn't expect to come here, and can't explain where you came from, where are you heading to?" Cornelius assists Phil in loading the wagon.
Veriun walked past the warrior and the elves as he joined the group questioning the preklek (the three others finishing their breakfast and starting deconstructing their parts of the camp) while the gnome shot off back to her tent like a gunshot. Probably to get dressed. The avian stopped just a few steps away from Taikahn. Hands in his pockets and gaze on the lizard. ”he came from another realm.” he said, answering Archibald's question, before turning to the preklek himself “How's your mechanical friend?”
Anders has in the time since he deducted that the Preklek would be neighter a threat or an asset (or atleast that would be how it looks at the moment, with the lizard-man scrambling for his dropped toy-like tiger, and assessing his own current situation) has prepared a small snack. Mostly consisting of a fraction of the elves' prepared breakfast. He moves over to the two loading the wagon. "Cornelius." He places the food onto the cart near the dandy. "Eat. You will be of little use if you starve." The necromancer subsequently moves away, seemingly not bothering with making sure his instructions were followed. He moves over to continue to study the recent arrival, silently listening to him being questioned by the scholar, and to the avian's responce in the lizardman's stead.
Taikahn could, in fact, explain where he was going, and would have too if Veriun hadn't appeared. That made this whole thing a little bit more survivable and it promised fun of some kind or another. He stopped moving and turned to face the group. "Right here, I think, to answer your most recent question of where I'm going." He avoided eye contact with any undead member of the party and focused on Veriun. "He'll survive. I don't see anything wrong, maybe there was a current jump when he was thwacked. I'll let him rest for a bit." Upon saying that, he slipped Mechator into his pocket. "He should be fine in a few minutes. Now then, what brings you all here and how may I be of assistance? Taikahn, by the way." He extended his hand to Archibald.
Cornelius glances at the food "Ah, jolly good show, Anders old bean." He picks up the food, and hops onto the driver's perch "Don't mind me Phil, I'll be back there in but a few moments." The dandy takes a brief interlude for the purposes of eating. Archibald in the meanwhile was peering at Taikahn through his goggles the moment from when Veriun made his statement. This makes it all the more awkward when he doesn't immediately register the introduction. The youth hurriedly takes his hand in what turns out to be a relatively firm handshake, and responds "Archibald Smith, Anthropologist and Archaeologist. You've picked a strange destination. Were you here for the birds? Apologies if you were, some people..." He glances at Cornelius, goggles possibly concealing a glare "...some people have no concept of sane or proportional responses to a situation." In the manner of youth, Archibald wilfully ignores Veriun's part in the slaughter of hundreds of birds, on account of him being such a splendid library in avian form.
Veriun wasn't bothered by Archibald's angled view of the events before. He didn't say much, actually. Not at first, as Reginald spoke before he could. And the human had taken a clear note of the youngsters' unfair statement. “Oi there, Chappo!” He exclaimed while pulling a rope around his pack “They were all plenty crazy back there. Don't go choosing your scapegoat just yet.”he snickered, hauling the large pack onto his back as he walked over towards the wagon. Taking no note of the warrior, Veriun answered Taikahn's question. “I am guiding this expedition to a lost valley in their search for lost magic and treasure.”
Anders simply stands there silently until this point. "...an expedition that I happen to lead." Over at the other side of the camp, Phil hauls the last of the supplies onto the wagon. "Don't bother. I'm done." He slaps his hands together a couple of times, as if removing any dust, and then makes way towards the gathering of people. This zombie is much more visibly such, with decaying flesh and several wounds that seems to be festering here and there. He has also a lazy eye, and from the looks of it, it's due to the earlier bird assault. He has also got several newer wounds on his face and neck. The left cheek seems mostly ripped, and his teeth can be seen in an constant half-grin. His eyes are dead.
Taikahn nodded to Veriun and then turned a questioning look on Anders, sizing him up with a raised eye-ridge. The voice was different, but he bore a strong resemblance to an old enemy of his who had a talent for disguises. "I... see." Pause, glancing from Veriun to Anders and back again, and then to oh my gosh a zombie. With a half-insane wordless shout, the prek reached back into his pocket and flung the just-now-gaining-his-senses Mechator directly at Phil's face and took several staggering steps backwards, trying to get away. Mechator, upon finding himself once more in-flight towards someone's face, was once more quite irritated and sparks began arcing between his claws as he braced for impact.
Cornelius had just finished his meal when Taikahn had his panic attack. With a slight rolling of the eyes he swiftly shifts his position on the cart and interposes the wooden trencher he had been eating from between the flying lightning-cat, or whatever it was, and Phil. "Now now, Calm down. Nothing worse than watching an eyeball exploding or melting when one has just eaten, wot. I know Phil's appearance, and eau de mortis, can be a bit offputting, but he's a splendid chap, really." Archibald was too busy getting out of the mechanical tiger's flight path to say anything.
Veriun remained silent with a raised eyebrow. Did nothing. Reginald, however, took hold of the handle of his large sword at the somewhat savage yell from the alien life-form, as if expecting a fight to break out. The elves simply laughed yet again and the gnome shot out, now fully geared, of her small 'tent' if it could be called such. “What'd I miss!?” she asked no one in peculiar, obviously riled up by the sudden noise. The most observant might even notice a extremely well hidden serious part of the little woman taking in the situation, her hands and feet unoccupied in case quick action was necessary. Then again, that might be over analyzing it. She might just be excited.
Anders takes a step back as tigers and boards are flung, and phil is hit by the tray (partially) as it saves his face from another savage mauling from a thing smaller than himself. He curses loudly, his mouth spewing filth that almost sticks to one's eardrums as he is suddenly, and unexpectedly attacked again. He staggers backwards, his nose dislodged by the impact, some darkened blackish ooze seeping from the damage. He grabs the broken nose, and pulls it back into position with a crunching sound. "OI! what the hells was that good for?!" the shout directed at both cornelius and Taikahn, but mostly the latter as it was his action that lead to his face being hit by a board. The knight, who has finally replaced his helmet onto his head, has partially drawn his sword, glaring at the preklek, waiting for any further offensive actions.
Taikahn : Mechator latched onto the tray and scrambled up it, trying to get to a more secure position--having been blocked from his initial target twice now, his initial rage was spent and he figured it'd be safer to just stay with someone other than Taikahn until this blew over. As such, the mechanical creature would attempt to situate himself on Corny's shoulder and watch from there. Meanwhile, Taikahn was not the happiest of people. "I--but he's--he's a--" He threw a pleading look at Veriun and pointed at Phil with a finger, still keeping his distance from the zombie.
Cornelius allows the mechanical tiger to scamper up his shoulder as the tray is retrieved and Cornelius joins the group as well. "So, gentlemen, are we all sufficiently awake and introduced now? Can we get going? I was under the impression we still have some distance to travel, wot" Archibald elects to keep quiet for a moment, to Phil's possible relief - one less source of aggravation for at least part of the morning.
Veriun gave Taikahn his strange smile and tilted his head. “Yes, Taikahn. He is undead. I do not see how it matters. He was murdered once. Is it needful to see done again? I fail to see how such would benefit your goals. Especially as he is indeed quite civil.” He answers the prekleks pleads. Turning to look at the disgruntled zombie, raising an titanium clad gauntlet to his chin. “Most of the time.” he added before turning to the dandy in response to his proposal “Indeed. It would be wise to be off as soon as possible. A fight between these two would be quite the delay, however.” is the avians answers as the gnome almost dissapointedly walks up beside the dandy “So nothings' going to happen? Boring...” she muttered. The merry brothers merely waiting by the cart while Reginald remained alert. Just in case.
Anders turns towards the wagon. "Indeed, it would be best that we be underway." He looks across the camp, and sees the last tent still standing, The gnome's personal cloth-on-a-stick. "Cutty, we got adventure to reach. do you mind picking down your tent?" he then looks at the preklek. "and you. What do you intend to do now?" The zombie interrupts here. "gettin' a good thrashing, that's what." he then glares at the preklek. "No, Phil. You will not cause this one harm. He seems to be an.. aquantance of our guide, and it would be rude to harm him." the necromancer interrupts. "But boss, the bastard broke my nose!" the zombie protests. "and..? What lasting harm does that put upon you? leave him be. If he proves hostile later on, you'll get your revenge." The necromancer then stops by the wagon.
Taikahn wasn't sure what he wanted to do. On the one hand, this adventure meant adventure. Lots of excitement, for sure. On the other hand, it meant having to hang out with a zombie and someone who looked like his old rival. Then on still a third hand there was the fact that Mechator was riding on someone else's shoulder and showed no indication of wanting to come back. He took a deep breath, tensed up every muscle in his body, and then released it, relaxing. When it was all let out, he felt much better. "What I intend to do now is check something." With a mysterious grin, he reached into still another pocket and pulled out a small cube, doing something to it and looking at it for a moment. "Nope, the Void is still too turbulent to navigate. I'll follow along, if you don't mind. I don't eat much."
Cornelius shoulders his satchel on the tiger-free shoulder, and claps his hands together "Splendid. Glad we got all that sorted without further bloodshed." He turns to Anders and Veriun "Well, fearless leader and intrepid guide, lead on!" Archibald double-checks his over-sized pack, makes sure his hat is suitably jammed onto his head, and bounces a bit "Yes, let's get going! I cannot wait to examine the architecture for ancient graffiti! It can be very elucidating to the thoughts of the normal citizens of a place, you know"
Veriub nods briefly and walks on past the cart with an obvious understanding of destination, moving without the slightest of doubts, as with clear purpose and authority. Yet with a manner of nonchalance as if it didn't really become him where they ended up. The gnome dashed over and almost instantly folded her improvised tent like and umbrella and hurled it onto the cart like a javelin, following soon after in person. Reginald walked over and took his seat and off they went. The elves of course following.
Anders follows the avian as he passes him by. "It shouldn't be any trouble." he says in responce to Taikahn. The zombie does not approve, and glares at the prek evilly before following his master, releasing the alien from his gaze. The knight has now fully re-sheathed his blade, and takes up his position as the group's rear guard.
Taikahn looked over the procession and tried to decide where he wanted his place in it to be before finally deciding on up front with Veriun--in his mind, the safest place around. Besides, he had questions to ask. "So, how's that energy being of yours treating you?"
Cornelius takes up position towards the front, strolling along casually whistling a melody to the wind. And why not? Sabre on hip, satchel on shoulder, teamed with a tiger, and brandy for the boring bits - of such things are contentment made. That, and riding the Roc may have filled his quota for reckless life-risking behaviour for the week to the extent that the joys of a simple hike might have been rediscovered. Archibald trots alongside the Preklek and Veriun, and after a polite interlude of silence, jumps into the conversation asking both questions about their respective homelands and the kind of breakfast foods and related domestic rituals they might follow.
Veriun made his way onwards in the same manner. Not entirely unlike Cornelius by now. Although with more of his usual type of behavior. Not quite the happy camper act, which would be unusually extreme for the avian. At least according to some. No, he simply threw a gaze at the prekleks question before he answered and went on as if it was nothing in particular. “It did not take long for it to submit. Surprisingly sensible creature.” meanwhile, The elves had joined in on the dandy's singing, which Reginald did not seem to mind all the much. And Cutty? In lack of further excitement, it'd seem she fell back into sleep among the packs and sacks on the cart.
Anders continues strolling behind the avian and the preklek silently. The necromancer seems to have little to say to anyone, and simply walks. The zombie has sagged behind and has by now joined the knight on the back of the group, staying out of the cheery front where elves and dandies are singing. The zombie seems to be in a broody mood, and his gaze is fixed onto the back of the preklek for most of the time. The knight seems to be more on guard for potential external threats, gazing over the surroundings as he walks.
Taikahn , for the most part, contentedly answered all questions asked of him, although at some point he had to tell Archibald, "Of course, the things you're asking me don't apply to my whole species--just me. I was rather forced to, erm, part ways with them a while back." In answer to Veriun's answer, when he could find a break between Archibald's indefinite supply of questions, he said, "To follow up with the conversation I attempted to start--you found it sensible? Hm. Seemed pretty predatory to me, but then I never did get much of a chance to study it."
Oh, and Mechator continued riding contendedly on Corny's shoulder and watched boredly.
Strangely enough, Taikahn has unwittingly found a way to shut Archibald up, as the young man realises that the data he has just collated needs to be mentally recategorised. He drifts off into silence, a look of concentration on his face, leaving Preklek and Avian to talk unimpeded. Cornelius, for his part, would chuckle at the others adding song to his whistling, but to do so would break the melody. Instead, when the tune does eventually come to its conclusion, he takes a moment to ask Veriun "Now that we've regained out bearings, do we have an idea as to the kind of terrain the next stretch of the journey is likely to encounter?" Whether the answer is satisfactory or not, Cornelius will be content to return to whistling while he scouts the horizon and clifftops for sign of any potential danger or ambushes
Veriun didn't answer Taikahn as he more or less answered himself. Proceeding in the same manner as before, un bothered by the sudden silence of Archibald. But didn't seem to have any preference between the scholar speaking or being silent. Complete indifference. When Cornelius poses his question, however, Veriun looks over his shoulder to answer. “It'll get rougher from here on. Less traveled ground. Mountain paths. I suppose you know the sort. Ridges and wilderness beyond the safe roads. The last leg is ahead of us before we reach our destination and your true quest begins.” he says, before turning his gaze forwards again with his cryptic smile and a somewhat raised pace “The strolling on well traveled routes is over. Now starts the journey proper. I assume none of your are the kind to back away from hardships. ...or heights.”
Phil groaned dissaprovingly "Why does it always have to be heights...?"