A Winter Night

[Minty]

Huff, puff, huff, huff.......

Ignas catches up to the group.

"I wasn't aware you were going to be early. You could have told me that I was allowed to take my time. , the halfdemon would say, looking quite pale and a bit more displeased than what was usual for him. Now he was early. Early, and cold. And surely, the cold would sink in further now that he was worn out as he was. Well, no use in going back now.

Ignas allowed himself to lean against a tree that rested a good distance away from the horses presence. Time to wait for the other collaborators, then, so they could assemble this unruly mob of what surely must be mostly unskilled, loud, -expendable- people, and go traipsing into the enemy's den.

Actually, on second thought, Quincy was probably the biggest liability present. What the hell had he just gotten into here?

[Jirai]

"These two."

She pointed out a pair and began to get out the tack, saddle them.

"I told you what I found out already." And here the girl shuddered. "Don't know that I want to see that for myself. But I'll go." Wouldn't the veiled girl always follow where Agnieszka lead? For the most part.

Having finished reading the two (they were nothing special, nothing challenging), the young Trader swung up onto her own with somewhat more confidence than she had earlier exhibited with the animals. Let's just hope she doesn't break a leg on this ride, not without Bryce's handy presence!

[Quincy]

My Lady, said the lone man in the clearing.

"Sir," the girl replied.

Acteon was at her side and Ignas was bringing up the rear with ragged breaths. Quincy's smile was small and subdued, and she gazed through the hawk-eyed slant of her helm.

"I'm sure she'll be 'ere soon enough," she nodded to whispery Jons; the man was at an advantage, for Quincy had no idea who he was. Ignas exploded into the clearing, voice thick with anger, and she quickly turned her head. Her eyes flexed wide.

"I didn't know she wouldn' be here," she managed calmly enough. "Besides, I'm sure she'll be along any minute."

The girl on horseback turned back to Jons, her mount stamping at the snow with a white hoof. "I am Quincy, an' this is Mister Acteon Skinner - an' yonder is Ignas."

[Vanidor]

He wanted to say it. That he knew your names, two of you at the least. The man who announced his displeasure at being out in the cold and blustery night. You, Quincy Randall, who was well-well known throughout Myrken (and futher, if one listened to the correct tales). The third though. Jons did not know you, nor of you. Still, if you were in -their- company, then you were safe from scrutiny, at least for a short while. So then, the soldier bowed his head to Quincy, and then a smaller nod to the other two men.

When he finally answered to Quincy's introduction, it was in a voice that was stepped up from the bare whisper he had allowed before. "Lieutenant Jons Feul. I am Aeryn's man in this." Aeryn's man. Kerrak's man... Jons held so many masters that it was sometimes hard to trace who, exactly, he answered unto. It was a situation that suited him just fine.

And with that thought, Jons Feul smilled and then settled his dark-eyed gaze upon Quincy, almost content to leave it there while his other senses focused on the winter-coated forest around them. "Let us hope she does not take too long. If these are the same caverns as before, we have some ride to go before we arrive."

[Carnath-Emory]

And like all of the best things -- and many of the worst -- this is how it begins: quietly. With bodies moving back and forth through a tavern commons. With a jostling of horseflesh, in the warm stables. With the knock of bruised knuckles upon a worn, wooden door.

It's this last which rouses a slender man from his rest, so that he may be escorted from his room. Cloaked heavily, he is led down staircases and past barcounters, following a path along which Agnieszka and veiled Rhaena had already travelled. With a slimly curved weapon pressed into his hands, he is drawn to the doors and beyond them -- and past Sefall, at some point; he keeps closely to the building's long shadows, and they do him a fine service indeed.

Snow creaks its protests beneath their boots -- and crumbles soon after, when they're mounted and breaking free of the stables. It will not prove to be an easy ride, for Bromn must become accustomed to the courser's gentle gait, and to the fact that he is riding alone at all. But it will continue, however haltingly, and they will rely on the fact of Ariane's own horsemanship -- and that one horse will naturally follow another's lead -- and, in a moment of magnificent irony, they will pass Agnieszka and Rhaena without even conceiving that the they might share the same eventual destination.

Where is Ariane, Jons? Why, at last -- and very belatedly -- she is here, arrived in the clearing atop a tall beast that snorts frosty vapor from its great nostrils; with a smaller one in tow, upon which is seated Altias Bromn, former Governor. And with, it must be noted, widening eyes on seeing just how many bodies have joined her sister here this evening. Oh, Jons -- and Skinner -- and Ignas -- and Quincy -- the woman stares.

[Seth_Bloodmoon]

Seth now hung back, beyond the outskirts of the clearing where everyone seemd to be gathering. He had made good time with long strides but would have missed them all gathering had they not paused to wait for another's arrival. Now he pondered taking his leave for there seemed to be plenty of people gathered and at least a couple more on their way here, he did not want to end up being in the way.

Thus he did not try to make his presence known, yet, though he didn't try to skulk amongst shadows or hide like a theif. He merely observed from where he now stood, a little ways off the beaten path, a cloaked figure watching with hidden eyes.

[Awry]

And so Sefall followed, with Smoke in silent tow, noiselessly sliding through the black of night towards the stable. Listening, quietly, peeking through any spaces there were in the gaps of the wood, and then finally watching Ariane ride off. It would be impossible to keep up - he was good at running, but it was a *horse*, after all. Even Smoke wouldn't be able to keep up.

There was an answer, of course, but he had to judge if it was worth it or not. A moment of thought, two moments. So many people had taken off - some of them he had known, some of them not. In his hands was a small vial of what seemed to be white, milky liquid. A pause - who was that well-cloaked figure that Ariane had been leading away?

The seal cracked, and the stopper was pulled out. Sefall kneeled down by Smoke, the darker gray timberwolf lazily coming up to him and poking her nose up to sniff whatever he had just uncorked.

...which seemed to be a hazy mist that flowed out of the vial. Sefall took a deep breath of the foggy air, which smelled heavily of pine and ozone, mirrored by Smoke (who also sneezed in a rather covert way), and then he stood. He could feel the magic coursing through his body - his skin was abnormally warm, like he had somehow gotten scotch into his limbs.

Sefall grinned, paused a moment to pat the wolf, and then, with supernatural speed, the both of them continued to shadow Ariane at a good distance - not daring to actually reveal themselves just yet, they stayed wherever they could, whether it was behind a tree, low to the ground, behind an obstruction, in some bushes, or just in the shadows if there was no where else to hide. At the very least, although he always attempted to find some sort of cover or place to lower himself in an attempt to obfuscate, the seal brooch that pinned his waist-length cloak was taking effect - a symbol and tool of the Hand of the Emperor of Lasting, it made the lines of Sefall's body blur, making it much more difficult to distinguish him as a human from the next tree or boulder.

People spying on other people often were not aware of others creeping up from behind. And so it was that both man and wolf found another watching the crowd from a safe distance - but his size made him stick out a little too slightly from the night, and made him a bit recognizable to Sefall, who'd seen a similarly-sized chap in the tavern here and there when he'd visited. for now, Sefall circled, keeping a berth from both man and crowd.

This was going to be interesting.

[Minty]

Too many damn horses in this clearing. Yes, way too many. He grew uncomfortable, as surely as those beasts must as well.

Introductions are made, in one direction, anyways, and Ignas does not particularly care to speak much at the moment. He is in fact, perfectly -silent-. He knows little, and thus, needs to be able to listen, to understand what is happening. Which...there had better be something happening. Or else someone was going to get it later for convincing him that there was a good reason he get out of bed and come here, never blame his own boredom, of course.

[Acteon]

Acteon watched the Lieutenant as the man approached them on horseback. He shot a glance to Quincy and when he saw that the woman was not alarmed, then he did not worry about the stranger either. Acteon did note the man’s attire however—another armored body, who would undoubtedly rattle, clink, and clang all the way to the cave. That part did worry him.

Acteon nodded to Jons when Quincy and he exchanged introductions. Acteon even muttered a “well metâ€

[Quincy]

"She'll be 'ere," Quincy said with a certainty, and as though her sister were conjured from the night by her conviction, she could hear the quiet of another approach. Soon, her sister and once-governor Altias Bromn were with them.

At Ariane's expression, Quincy grinned inside her helm. She even managed a superior flash of her eyes toward doubtful Ignas Demonsbane. There were six of them in all, now, which was a number shy of the troup that volunteered to travel to Kanpar; still, they'd known that horrors awaited them in that lost village beyond Devil's Ridge. If all went well, this little journey would be completely uneventful, and perhaps they'd learn a few things in scouting those supposedly empty caves.

The glade gave up all its secrets as the moon revealed itself. If the trees could keep the wind from their backs, it would be a perfect evening. Or at least it would have been - but she became subtly aware of Acteon's tension; she found her own, shrewd eyes glancing at the trees surrounding.

"Good evenin', Ari," she said without a single excuse for their additions; unlike Acteon, she thought of more as more safe.

[Seth_Bloodmoon]

Seth had finally reached a decision, perhaps misguided by his own slightly negtive thoughts. There were plenty here and they did not need another, he would simply be in the way. So the tall, cloaked form turns away from the clearing and begins to head off, still not exactly hiding himself but not trying to make his presence known of.

Thus he would travel back to the Dagger, if he went 'unnoticed', and would spend one evening there before departing for unknown parts once again. In his mind it was far better that he maintain his distance, oh he could probably do that while in a large group, but there was a chance he could still screw something up... make the wrong choice that would cost someone, other than himself, dearly.

[Altias_Bromn]

For once, Ignas and the once-governor had something in common, a dislike of horses. And there were indeed far too many in this clearing.

It had been an uneventful ride, save for the horses. The world around them was beautiful to Altias, covered in drifts of pristine white. The hidden places beneath the trees where even animals had yet to walk. It was silent perfection. So clean and pure. So unlike their destination.

Altias was not sure this was a wise idea. In fact, he was pretty certain this was a right daft idea, but if they were going he would not be letting them go alone. As he looked over those gathered, it seemed they would not have been alone afterall.

"Hello to you all."

There was a gentle incline of his head toward all present, those he knew and those he did not.

"We are all informed of our destination, I trust? If all is as I remember, this should be a time when very few are present in the caverns. Dhrin may have increased the number of guards, concidering the many rumors and stories that have been whispered around the town of late."

There is a long look in the direction of his companion. She had been one spinning these tales. Fair enough, what she spoke was true. Altias' concern was that all this talk would draw their attentions. Dhrin...could be handled. Dhrin, was not the worst of their worries. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

"Ariane...you would speak?"

This was your idea, wasn't it? You should probably give all of our new companions an idea of what lies ahead. Despite his misgivings about this journey, Altias smiled and nodded, giving this gathering over to Ariane, so they might move on, or have more information.

[Acteon]

Venatici stirred. Her ears, which were angled backwards toward Acteon, showing her attentiveness to his commands, turned quickly toward the direction of the retreating Seth. Acteon’s eyes quickly shot in the same direction. He had learned long ago to watch Venatici’s ears for signs of danger. Horses are domesticated prey animals and their natural tendency for flight, rather than fight, meant that they were always on guard and aware of the potential dangers surrounding them. It is because of this natural tendency, and the fact that a horse’s hearing is so significantly better than a man’s, that Acteon tended to focus on Venatici’s ears whenever possible. So when the horse turned its attention quickly in any particular direction, Acteon was usually quickly to follow.

Acteon watched the darkness for a while, missing some of what was said within the group, mainly the pleasantries. It wasn’t until Altias Bromn started to speak more that Acteon turned his focus back to the group. Acteon then turned to Ariane Carnath-Emory when Bromn was finished and encouraged the woman to speak.

Acteon stroked Venatici from her crest to her withers, trying to ease her in case she worried about the sounds in the darkness. But maybe a small part of him did it to ease his own worry. In situations of combat, Acteon would undoubtedly agree with Quincy's position; more is always better. However, in the case of reconnaissance, scouting, and spying, Acteon felt that fewer individuals were key to avoid detection. It helped a bit to hear that Ariane and Altias had been to these caves before and, perhaps Jons had too, though the man had expressed some uncertainty if these caves were the same as the ones that he had visited in the past. They also seemed to have some knowledge of the sentries or guards that protected the caves. This was good as well.

He waited for Carnath-Emory to speak, anxious to hear more about their destination. After all, there is no such thing as too much information.

[Minty]

"'bout damn time someone explains what's -really- going on here.

These are the thoughts that run through Demonsbane's mind as he stands there, watching, looking so terribly displeased. Because here was going to come the part where he was sure he'd come into dispute with -whomever- was giving the orders here. Likely Ariane. Which at least, was better than Quincy organizing and running the whole thing by herself.

This is why he pushed himself off the tree he'd been resting against, and crossed his arms in front of his chest a bit tighter, in hopes of staving off the bitter, hideous cold. Because he needed to -listen-. And because a group this large would probably be split up. Or...-something- needed to be done. Because there were too many bodies, and too many bodies in one place would make this exceedingly clumsy and difficult.

[Cinnabar]

Riders. Lots of riders.

On his way towards the tavern the silver-haired youth had been passed by... how many now? Four? Five? More? He'd stood at the roadside as the horses passed, and those following on foot. Some of them he'd briefly recognised, others not. Something was definitely up, and the thought brought a grin to his lips. Tempting as the tavern was, with its warmth and its drink and its company, this was intriguing, and he was damned if he could resist finding out more.

So he turns back along the path, jogging through the snow until he finds a place where more than a few riders had turned aside from the main route, into the woods themselves. One doesn't need to be a master woodsman to follow the trail of churned snow and crushed undergrowth left by so many horses and riders. A couple of times he notes other riders passing him off to one side, evidently knowing where they're going without having to follow the paths of those who travelled ahead of them.

He slows slightly as he presses deeper into the woods, picking his way over roots and between trees... hm. Voices up ahead. Voices and figures in the pallid half-light of the clearing, dusk stripping away subtleties of colour and shading into the dim white of the snow, and the inky blackness of the shadows that move upon it. This would be the gathering, then.

He steps closer, emerging from the treeline to stand at the edges of the group, quietly noting the mood of this intrepid band. Some arrayed for battle, all seeming more than slightly subdued, tense. Though he's perhaps not as armed or armoured as some of the others, he is a as prepared as he's going to get. Warm coat, good boots, and a rapier and dagger at his belt. Anything else he'll have to do without. And wait, is that Quincy whose voice echoes under all that steel? That certainly has him grinning broadly, a hand waved in greeting before he turns his attention to those speaking. Ah, more familiar faces. Let's see what this little adventure's all about, then.