All of you have been in a training camp in the foothills of the Ashfell mountains for a little over a month. It is possible you've noticed each other before but do to the nature of the methods of training your various skills and the way the recruits are housed you've never gotten a chance to actually meet. In either large combat practice groups or for rarer skills under the tutelage of an individual mentor you've been training your rudimentary skills, watching as the others you shared the rough barracks with were tapped one by one for service after only a couple weeks.

Today however, after the evening meal you were each called before the one you've received your training from. “Instead of coming to me in the morning, report to the meeting ground by the front gate at sunrise. Take your belongings. If you are late, you may have to stay here until you can prove your ability to be on time.”

There was a chill in the air the next morning, new frost on the ground as the last of winter clung to the camp. Spring was breaking through and the camp's livestock, tended by children of various races, sought out the new grasses with fervor. As you approach the meeting spot (hopefully for your sakes on time) you notice the tall dusky figure of a obviously half drow, half surface elf woman standing next to a heavily scarred up half-orc man. Even if you have never seen her before, which is unlikely, you would have heard enough about the Lady Aleya to know who she is. She rarely comes to this camp but when she does the recruits talk for days afterward. The rumors surrounding her are many but all agree on one thing. She is the face of the revolution and was fiercely loyal to the cause. As the small group assembles she looks at each of you in turn. When she spoke her voice was both commanding and enthralling.

“I'm sure each of you were wondering why you were still here. You may have noticed that you progressed faster or were innately more skilled than some of your training mates and naturally were confused when they were selected to serve the cause before you. The reason for this being you were being watched, tested and given more training because you showed promise. Each of you has displayed a trait I need. Some of you are ambitious, highly naturally talented or simply have the drive to force your skills to a higher level simply through your determination. I have seen all of you, read the reports from those who trained you and have heard it from your training mates. I would like to put your skill to use in a better manner than just as field soldiers.” The half-orc man stepped forward at a flick of her hand and she smiled, though none of the warmth of it reached her eyes. “This is Paagdish. He will serve as your guide and guardian for the next few months. He isn't very talkative and he's quick to reinforce lessons with a lashing. He'll be watching you and only assist if absolutely needed. He reports directly to me.” She caught each of and held them in her gaze one by one as if appraising them. “This is not a competition between you. To truly excel you must learn to play off each other's abilities and work within a group. You were all chosen for reasons. Does anyone have any questions?” She asked them as she stepped back and mounted a horse, looking down at them all expectantly.

“By Maglubiyet this is it. I feel it is all starting.”

Ghourl spoke to himself in goblin, the rough language being his native tongue. He was a Hob-goblin; rutty orange brown skin and a blueish grey nose that was compact, wide and bigger than a humans. His six foot three frame seemed large but for Hob-goblins he was just below average height. His 220 pounds of lean muscle and bone shows him to be thinner than what a normal being of his kind would be. He barely filled out the studded leather armor he wore and his limbs were thin and lean. Over-all his entire disposition betrayed a hard life of survival in the wilds.

He sat in a small clearing on top of a low hill, the thick woods around him giving this place a break in their growth. A few large sharp boulders jutted from the ground around him, giving him a secluded place to think and dwell. He chewed into the rough jerky that was part of his allotted rations and sighed, his breathe exiting his nose as two frosty plumes of air. Winter had not fully let go yet and this morning was bitter, the frost making rocks and grass slick with frozen moisture.

He went over the words of his drill sergeant again.

Instead of coming to me in the morning, report to the meeting ground by the front gate at sunrise. Take your belongings. If you are late, you may have to stay here until you can prove your ability to be on time.
Ghourl had been up well before sunrise, all his gear packed and sitting next to him. He could see the sun starting to peak above the mountains east, and stood up grabbing his gear. He adjusted his two long braids that laid over each should and came down in the front, his long dusty brown hair kept tightly bound making sure they don’t get in his way. His studded leather was already on and he adjusted the arm guards, thigh guards and shin guards while tightening the straps on his chest piece. His brown and red toned thick clothing beneath him was kept tucked and snug to make sure nothing became uncomfortable. Soon he hauled his pack over his shoulder and headed off down to the front gate of the camp a quarter mile away.

By the time Ghourl arrived at the front gate the sun had rose half way, and he stood waiting while others have showed up. By habit he checked his gear to make sure everything was there. His battle axe hung from a loop on his right hip, it’s leather bound haft quietly bouncing as he moved. His trusted dagger was snug in its leather sheath that was strapped to the outside of his left thigh, and his second dagger was strapped across the right side of his chest, the hilt pointing out-wards and up an angle. On his back was his pack with the minimalist gear he carried, and a long quiver that held 10 javelins, all with a smooth three foot haft of some local wood and a narrow steel leaf shaped point, broad at the base where metal meets wood and tapering up towards a deadly tip. Everything seemed to be in order.

He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement to the figure that stood before him when he arrived, her slender dark figure easily distinguishable. Lady Aleya. Next to her was a half-breed with heavy scars. Her attitude was more intimidating than the half-orc who stood next to her, the tales and stories revolving around her surfacing to Ghourl’s thoughts. He knew she was one of the leaders, or at least he thought. She was devoted to the cause of this “revolution” as they call it, and if she’s here summoning us something big must be coming.

As other beings arrived and their total came to five, Lady Aleya spoke. Ghourl listened as she explained they were tested more than others because they all had skills of some sorts, and the scarred orc was named Paag-dish. Ghourl looked around and glanced at the others around him. These were to be his companions in battle. They were now a band together, much like one of the hunting or raiding parties of Ghourls clan. His face soured as he thought of his past, the memories still fresh in his mind even after several years.

He looked up as she mounted her horse, asking if there were any questions. Ghourl spoke up, in common if she spoke to them in common.

“I have but one. Our first blooding, what is it? What shall our band be commanded to do?”

On hearing the commans to take up what he had and not be late, he rushedly gathered his stuff and forgot something....oh yes, his bag of stones. On the walk there he stopped to pause to look at the people around him...ummm....more walking dead to him. When he reached the place they were to meet, he saw her....his halfling mind forgot her name but her corpse was quite nice, and that horse-its rotting flesh was beautiful. He looked around and he recognized the corpses he was going to work with, a Hob-goblin, an Dragon thing, a fey and whatever they were.

"Any questions?" he saw her wheel around to another corpse near her. He was silent as he had not heard much and did not want to bring attention to himself as he was analyzing the ones around him. "I love being Halfling!!!!" he thought to himself. He noticed someone else....who is he, what is the role he plays. The other corpse looked battle hardened and experienced,yet, he did not know the full extent of his halfling pesonality....nor did the others.

A camp located in the foothill of the Ashfell Mountains was where Triana had felt welcomed for the first time in her life. The Half-drow was recruited to begin training to fight for a revolution against those who had wronged the outcasts.

It had been a little over a month since she had been recruited and she ensured that she gave it her all in hopes of impressing her mentor. For once in her life she was not shunned for being a mixed blood race.

Triana woke before sunrise every morning and found a quiet place to pray to Wee Jas for her spells before training begun. The ritual would be different today as her mentor informed her yesterday that she would instead be gathering at the meeting ground by the front gate at sunrise. Instinct had told her to pack for the occasion and she had readied her backpack with items before going to sleep last night.

The cleric woke before sunrise the frost upon the ground glistening in the pre-dawn light. Soundlessly she prepared herself for the day mentally, and then settled down for prayer an hour and a half before sunrise. Closing her hazel eyes she prayed to her diety Wee Jas, and had another half hour before sunrise to arrive at the meeting location. Triana put on her black cloak and raised the hood, as she grabbed her quarterstaff from the corner of her tent.

The woman being completely packed, having prayed to her diety was now ready to make her way to the front gates allowing her mind to ponder the reason for the meeting grounds instead of the training district. Gracefully she arrived at the gates when the sun was half risen into the sky and she could see a large creature already waiting for the rest of the group to gather. Nodding to the creature which she believed to be a hob-goblin she waited for the meeting to begin. Triana took in each visitor and how close it was to sunrise that they chose to arrive.

The Cleric had no questions, any information they would need would be provided as they began the mission. Having faith in the cause she remained silent listening as the Hob-Goblin asked a question to the Lady Aleya. The woman waited for the orders from Paagdish who would serve as their leader over the course of the mission.

Garron packed his things the night before after recieving his orders to meet at the gate. He hated orders, order of any kind. He prefered chaos. He would not be subserviant for long.

He was the last to show up to the meeting, just in time for the drow lady to give her speech and introduce Paagdish, their guide and leader, whom answered directly to her.

As she spoke, he took in those he would be serving with and sizing them up for who would be a threat to him. All he did in the past, and now in the present, was to honor Tiamat with his actions. He would see the Dragon Queen's will be done.

He stayed stoic and silent when the request for questions came. He waits for the chance to spill the blood of the "innocent".

'Heh, there are none that are truely innocent.'

Ahvir sat in the mess hall a little longer than he normally would've tonight. He'd just gotten word that something special was going to happen. About bloody time, he was clearly the better option out of all of these common folk who claimed to do similar things to him. They tried. But only Ahvir had the grace, the intellect, and the cunning that was truly required in the art.

"Heh, and the lookses. Never forget the lookses."
So instead of excusing himself to his chambers, Ahvir decided to stay out late, and put on a show for all those who had come to call him friend. His shows were unique as well too: some sang, some played instruments, some tried to do both. But Ahvir was able to mimic drums with his mouth. And cymbals. And... Well, most everything. Adding in a hum here and there, maybe a few words, and he was able to simulate at least three bards doing their musical work. Some said it was because of his heritage, and it likely was. After all, Ahvir was not humanoid, like these folk were.

After his performance however, he excused himself. He slipped out, his nimble, lithe body almost gliding across the ground as he moved with precision to his chambers. Tomorrow was going to be a big day. It was going to be the stuff of legends. And he was going to be a part of it, and capture the tale. This was going to be his moment. This was going to be the stuff that was sung of for the rest of his life... And Ahvir was going to be the first to tell of it.

Ahvir strapped on his armour before he went to bed. It was light enough to be worn whilst sleeping, and he had no desire to waste any time tomorrow. He would be there before the sun rose, waiting for the others. He also strapped a few of his daggers to the insides of his legs, should anything happen in the middle of the night. Finally, Ahvir gathered his things, packed them neatly in his backpack, then laid that beneath his head. It was hardly enough to break anything. And he let his eyes close, imagining what tomorrow would bring.

~~~

Ahvir woke with the dim light that dawn brought. Without a word, he stood, lifted his bag up to his shoulder, and wrapped his scarf around his neck so that it covered his mouth. It wasn't the prettiest feature of his, but it had a beautiful gift. He didn't wish to frighten the other with his fangs, so he would keep them hidden... For now.

Calmly striding in the brisk morning, feeling the dew on his feet, Ahvir arrived where the designated meeting point was. He saw others there already. So there was more than he that had been called... Great. At least they weren't from his group. Anything to get away from those sorry louts. Ahvir calmly strode in and joined the crowd, calmly appraising the others in the group, as well as the two they faced.

Lady Aleya's voice rang clear throughout the group. Ahvir tried to maintain eye contact, but it was too intense, he had to look away every now and then... Which he despised. But he still understood her words. They were chosen for something great, just as he had thought. Time for things to get real interesting.

At her inquiry about questions, Ahvir waited until the others ask. A hobgoblin - quite obviously a fighter with his muscle build - asked the only question that mattered at this point. When the Lady looked to Ahvir for his question, he simply replied, "Less questionses than a dwarf with a full tankard of ale, my lady."

The half-orc looked over the group, grunting his disapproval frequently. He stopped before each one, his yellowed eyes dragging over every detail, searching for out of place gear or weakness. He glared up at Aleya for a moment and made a disgusted sound, shaking his blocky head. She met his eyes, a vicious smile spreading on her full lips, and shrugged. “I know they're raw recruits not the elite team you requested, Paagdish, but they will serve nicely.”

She turned back to the group then, taking a moment to decide how she wanted to answer the hob-goblin's question and chuckling at the Jaebrin's response. “I need Maple Ridge. I need the town, resources as intact as possible with little or no innocent death. Do not punish anyone for the crimes their parents have committed.” Her voice turned icy and hard as steel, violence flashing in her eyes. “Should a child be intentionally felled by your hand I myself will ensure you never make the mistake again. If you wish to kill without reason you should leave now.”

She paused long enough to make sure none of them were stupid enough to move. “Maple Ridge is a two day walk to the North. If you need any supplies that have not been given to you Belja's Nook, in the east, is a neutral trading camp. Don't start trouble there. I trust in your abilities to find your own means of paying.” She thought for a moment and then slid a hard leather case containing a map of the country from her saddle and held it out. “You'll have to decide amongst yourselves the best route to Maple Ridge as well as the method you plan to use to secure the town. Don't let me down.” She watched a rider approaching and frowned, momentarily distracted from the group.

The rider, obviously a warrior judging by his gleaming silver plate mail and the multiple weapons on both his person and attached to the saddle. Paagdish growled deeply in his throat but Aleya remained calm and unmoving, watching as the man slid from the saddle. He had sharp golden eyes that traversed the recruits, a scoundrel's grin on his lips the whole time, and black hair that was clipped short in a common military style. “You're needed back, Aleya.” His voice was musical and even when addressing the fearsome woman it held a playful mirth. “Bonestaff's orders.” He fell silent for a moment, his eyes falling on Triana. “Aleya, do you have a sister you never told me about?” He approached the half-drow girl, bowing deeply. “The paladin Tyrael, at your service, beautiful.”

(I know the map's a bit rough but you get the idea. The dark green around Oakcross is a forest that I can't think up a name for.)

The Cleric stood at attention listening to the words exchanged between Aleya and the Orc who would accompany them. They were not there long, and yes they would be considered raw recruits, but she wished they would not have spoken the words aloud.

A smile found her lips as she watched the paladin approach and speak so sweetly to her. It was the first time anyone had spoken to her in a positive light and it made her heart skip a beat. Triana allowed her eyes to meet Tyrael`s eyes yet she kept her words swift as to not delay their departure.

"A pleasure Tyrael, my name is Triana, perhaps you have leave to join us on our quest"

She smiled while holding his gaze a few moments longer before turning her attention back to Aleya and Paagdish. The smile disappeared as she went back into business mode and had to ask a question before embarking on the journey.

"My Lady, Do you wish for us to take control of Maple Ridge and await for your troops to relieve us, or do you wish we rid them of the wrongdoers and return?"

The woman glanced towards the paladin again and blushed slightly, however thanks to her gray skin, it would be difficult to notice that she was so taken by the man. He was breath-takingly handsome, and his eyes seemed an endless tunnel that she could easily gaze into until the ends of the earth. The Cleric smiles warmly to him before turning back anew to await her response.

Ghourl stood and listened as the morning sun warmed them up, the frost and chill slowly creeping back into the shadows of the woods. He took the map from Lady Aleya and listened as she spoke about Maple Ridge. Thoughts flooded to him about the town, information that will prove very handy to have. His tribe used to travel from mountain range to mountain range in the many seasons they had together, and Maple Ridge was one of the settlements that they skirted.

It was a Dwarven mining town with too many citizens to count. He didn’t like the feeling that he had, but he wasn’t going to be given a second chance like this. Lady Aleya had given him a second clan, a chance not many of his kind would have gotten. He didn’t want to disappoint, so he accepted the task given to them.

As he stood, his breathe still puffing in the cold air, another warrior of the tribe came up. The creature was dressed in thick metal plating, and seemed to be a Man-ling. He must have been special to be able to take the presence of us, despite him his drawbacks. Ghourl ignored the conversation that was had near him, and thought about the task at hand.

Hmm, no pups killed, and she needs as many of the dwarven machines working and intact. Hmph, what does she need from them? Steel most likely. Steel, tools, and probably slaves too. With this she probably wants to arm this army. Fair enough, but why not march upon it? No matter, we will not fail her. The tribe needs it.
Ghourl nodded slowly, and looked up to Lady Aleya.

“No pups killed, Dwarf things left unbroken, and the tribe-lands captured. All for you Lady Aleya, we shall conquer.”

Ghourl clenched his right fist and swiftly pounded it against his chest, palm side down and hitting right over his heart. He bent at the waste in a pseudo bow. Failing was not an option now.

He looked over the group, waiting till he can speak as the Man-ling was still present.

“We should decide how we get to the village. Right now, I see the mountains will be fastest, but Winter isn’t gone yet from the passes. We could head west and go around, but that will take a bit longer.”

Ghourl stood, seemingly ignoring whatever the Man-ling in plate said. This was not the time nor place for a human to be involved.

Ahvir subconsciously swayed back and forth in place as Aleya gave them the details of their current objective. It was just a natural feeling of a pulse in time with her voice as she spoke. He did it whenever there was someone talking, singing, playing an instrument for an extended period of time.

"Simple enough, I suppose." Ahvir though to himself. "Get in, stay in, kill everyone who says nay. Or so it seems..."
But of course, there was one thing which could not be ignored... What was in it for him? She never mentioned any sort of reward. Time to see what he could get...

"Lady Aleya," Ahvir begins with a bow, but never breaking eye contact with her. He rights himself and continues. "The village, of course, shall be yours. But many citizenses who live in these villageses have some treasureses that they leave unattended, or at least won't need them when they've found their graveses. Would it be entirely unreasonable to take those treasureses as payment, as there has been no mention of pay? Am I to assume that it is... Finderses, keeperses?"

Ahvir's small lisp was prominent from behind his cloak, and he found delight in pluralizing words for a second time... It reminded him of his father and mother. But they had taken off, as Jaebrin parents do, and left him to fend for himself only a few years ago. But still, memories are memories.

It seemed as though they were about to be joined by someone too, as Ahvir saw a knight coming through the morning mists to come join them. Hearing their new 'commander' growl at the newcomer, Ahvir shifted his stance so that one of his daggers was close at hand... One could never tell with there knight types in shiny armour if they were on the human side, or no. However, it seemed he was on the right side, as he calmly spoke to Aleya, talking about Bonestaff with no sense of fear, or reverence. Obviously, another high up one.

Ahvir was shocked though, as he got off his horse, and went to one of the others in Ahvir's position, and laid himself out like that. "How embarrassing. At least have some tact. Some high up captain you are." Ahvir frowned underneath his scarf. Hopefully not all of the commanders were as tactless and easily swayed as this one.

Meanwhile, Ahvir turned his thoughts to Maple Ridge, and Belja's Nook as well. He was somewhat unfamiliar with the area, so instead of seeing the knight embarrass himself more, he instead racked his brain, to try and think of whatever her could about these places.*

As the lean, muscular, warrior in their own ranks spoke, Ahvir tuned back in.

"Going through the mountainses shall take us to another town, where we can ask around at what kind of defenceses Maple Ridge has in place. Knowing that, we can also grab supplieses to better be able to do what we need to do. I vote the mountainses; cold isn't too bad as long as we don't go near the peakses. And if we have to, so be it."

------

*OoC: I don't know much about these towns, so Ahvir's going to use his Knowledge (history) and Knowledge (nobility), as well as his Bardic Knowledge to see if he can find anything out, as well as what common knowledge there is about the place.

“I know they're raw recruits, not the elite team you requested, Paagdish, but they will serve nicely.”
Garron wasn’t sure he liked this woman, though it was honorable to serve, seeing as he had already pledged his service to the revolution.

She chuckled at the Jaebrin's response then answered the hob-goblin’s question. “I need Maple Ridge. I need the town, resources as intact as possible with little or no innocent death. Do not punish anyone for the crimes their parents have committed.” Her voice turned icy and hard as steel, violence flashing in her eyes. “Should a child be intentionally felled by your hand I myself will ensure you never make the mistake again. If you wish to kill without reason you should leave now. “
She paused long enough to make sure none of them were stupid enough to move. “Maple Ridge is a two day walk to the North. If you need any supplies that have not been given to you Belja's Nook, in the east, is a neutral trading camp. Don't start trouble there. I trust in your abilities to find your own means of paying.” She thought for a moment and then slid a hard leather case containing a map of the country from her saddle and held it out. “You'll have to decide amongst yourselves the best route to Maple Ridge as well as the method you plan to use to secure the town. Don't let me down.”
Was she looking at Garron, or was that just an all around order? Garron finally spoke up with a grunt and a huff,”Misteress I do not kill on just any old whim, but you sure know how to take the fun out of a mission. No innocents killed…leave as many alive as possible, that’s understood. If we meet with deadly resistance, do we kill or subdue?”
After receiving an answer to his query, Garron took notice of the lady’s distraction, something caught her attention. A new rider was on the scene. Garron had seen many of this new guy’s type before. They were always dressed differently from region to region, but he could always spot a paladin a league away, for they were almost always after his hide in Unther. This man’s presence doesn’t sit well with Garron at all.........Good he is taken with Triana.

“I know they're raw recruits not the elite team you requested, Paagdish, but they will serve nicely.”

That was all he heard. "So, where we going?" He asked innocently to the others hoping they would not catch on that he was not listening. "Names Takley, waht are yours?"

“Oh no, the pleasure is truly all mine, beautiful Triana.” Tyrael seemed loathed to pull his eyes away from Triana, sighing softly when the golden glowing gaze landed back on Aleya. He shrugged slightly at her frown and looked back at the girl before him. “As much as I hate to tell a beautiful woman no, I'm needed for other things. I've pledged to champion Aleya's cause and while Maple Ridge is important, I cannot help you now. I will see you there though.” His hand came up and caressed her face lightly, his fingertip leathery from years of weapons training. “I'm sure I will see you there anyway. If you're anything like the other half-drow woman I know, you'll be advancing quickly and I'll end up following your orders.” He said with a laugh, glancing up at Aleya again.

When Triana asked her mission question he fell silent, knowing the answer but also knowing he wasn't in charge of this group. “You'll take it and hold it for a short period of time, then be relieved by a force more suited for such work and you'll be placed on another important assignment, not left babysitting. Tyrael will be part of the force relieving you.” She looked around for a moment, waiting for the next question or comment.

When the hob-goblin spoke up her lips curled in a smile, amused by his interpretation of the orders given. She certainly was glad to hear dedication in his voice but had to stop a wince at his exact wording. Loyalty to her. So many creatures all looking to her.

“It's good that you're already aware that it is a Dwarven town.” She nodded and barely had time to compose herself before the next question made her smile again. She looked at the creature for a moment, trying to place him and then smiled. “Indeed, Jaebrin, you may take the spoils of your victories so long as you take no essential items and do not strip the whole town. I expect to see you well outfitted with supplies before I see you reveling about drinking and spending time with hired women, though.” There was only a hint of joking in her expression.

Paagdish stepped forward then, looking like he was about to say something to Garron when suddenly the woman nudged her horse forward, a shining of silver was the only warning before a wickedly sharp blade pressed against Takley's throat, a bead of blood welling up where it met his flesh. “You think you're too good to pay attention when orders are given? Keep your ears open lest you lose them, halfling.” All hint of smiles or amusement had been wiped from her and her voice was icy again. “Since you did not see fit to pay attention the first time you were told where you were going, you now have to rely on the mercy of your peers. Tell me, and them as well, Takley, why should you be permitted to remain in the group instead of repeating your training. How do we know you payed attention long enough to learn anything?”

Paagdish had stepped quite a bit away from Aleya and her horse and caught Garron's eyes. “Someone swing a sword at you and you stand there and die, you have all blame.” he said in response to his question. “Mission not about fun. Mission about survival and victory. Soon as is decided if short one keeps ears and go with us, we leave. Through mountain to Belja for supply. Tell name and what best at.” He looked at each of them in turn. “Then we go.”

Tyrael caught his mistress's eyes again and sighed gently. "I'm afraid that's my cue to leave. I'll be seeing you around, beautiful. She'll send me in to help if you end up too bogged down." He kissed her fingertips and went back to his horse, mounting and heading a little ways away to wait for Aleya.

Triana was being charmed by Tyrael, but unfortunately he had duties elsewhere before he could join up with them at Maple Ridge. A smile flashed across her lips as he complimented her every time he spoke with her. The woman had lived alone, being outcast from both the drow and human communities for being a half-breed. The Cleric had taught herself to defend herself, but now she would be forced to work with others and she was going to be quiet unless spoken to directly.

The half-drow nodded towards Aleya`s reply to her question about the mission and then glanced towards Tyrael a smile quickly finding her lips. His words were an inspiration for the Cleric to ensure she would reach her destination alive.
Triana filed away the information exchanged between her new companions and their employer. Their destination would be a Dwarven town north of the mountains and it might possibly take them a month or longer to reach the city, but the mission would be accomplished and she would survive. She had to survive in order to see the Paladin again. Tyrael would inspire her to greatness along their mission, but it would be a challenge to force herself to work with these companions. In her years she had learned not to trust anyone, she had been betrayed by people she thought she could trust since she was a child.

Paagdish spoke to them and she nodded to his words waiting for the final decision to march out, though she was trying to plan out their best possible path. The first stop they would have the chance to gather supplies before heading north.

In the corner of her eyes she caught the Paladin glancing her way and smiles as their eyes met. He had rough hands but he was a real sweet talker, and she was quickly warming up to the idea that perhaps when the mission was over they would get the chance to grab a drink together and see if his virtues remained the same while drinking. Tyrael’s lips brushed her fingertips before returning to his mount and heading out to wait for Aleya to escort her back to their own mission. A smile found her lips as she watched him move back to his horse and then returned her attention to Paagdish.

“You think you're too good to pay attention when orders are given? Keep your ears open lest you lose them, halfling.” All hint of smiles or amusement had been wiped from her and her voice was icy again. “Since you did not see fit to pay attention the first time you were told where you were going, you now have to rely on the mercy of your peers. Tell me, and them as well, Takley, why should you be permitted to remain in the group instead of repeating your training. How do we know you payed attention long enough to learn anything?”

Takley voice grew deeper "I see dead people" it returned to normal. His eyes growing greener while he thought after that until they grew to be almost blinding, his pupils could not be seen. Looking back to what he believed hoping it sounded close to the mission they were going on "Why my fair Lady, oh most beautious corpse, resistance is futile, those who resist are to be defeated, innocent life shall be spared, cake shall be eaten...only one piece, I missed second breakfast. Valuables shall not be taken if they are essential to life. My friends and allies, you never know when a lock shall have to be opened, or a trap disarmed."*whisper*"or someone to chase away the chickens that get in the way."*full voice*"Small places are harder for someone that are enclothed in full armour or are taller than 3 feet as well, someone to comfort the ones who see their fathers, brothers or relatives die by very strange and direly preposterous actions!!!" *His eyes were still glowing but returning to normal* "That is why my friends, allies and commander, is why I should be allowwed to stay."

((if he had a guitar and the song "the Larger Bowl" was out, he would play it after wards))