Smoke on the Road (open)

[Smoke]

The Western Isles. Home to mighty mountain men. Free Spirits who will know no bounds make their homes here as well as those who are chased out of civilized lands. Bandits and exiles live rough lives, fighting for every bit of scrap they can salvage or make for themselves here. There's always an exception of course. In this instance, the large cities built on sea trade on the southern portions of the islands. Some of the trade legal. Some outside the law. Much of the wealth there is also built on the backs of those forced to carry the strong and wealthy. At least going by rumor.

Smoke didn't concern himself with thoughts based around those things though. His concerns were far more mundane. At present, he was enjoying a nap after his dinner, his dinner having consisted of the bear that he'd found already here when he'd wandered into the cavern to rest for the night. It had perked up at his entrance, then roared. It had snarled and bounded forward aggressively. It was a common reaction when something invaded your territory to attack it. He'd let his reaction loose in response. Full on retaliation. He was the biggest creature on the food chain around here, and he was hungry. Pretty soon, the Grizzly was charging into a quick but brilliant flash of red light, before a a shadow as black as the depths of the cave they were in swelled out of the man's form before it. Before the transformation was even finished, there was a massive scaled creature charging right into the pitifully outmatched bear. The recoil as his spiked head had smashed directly into what had quickly changed from predator to prey had been pleasing. Smoke had pushed hard and fast enough to lift the beast off the ground, and had only stopped when he felt the creature smash against the distant back wall with a crunch. There was a bloody snarl as he had reared back his head, and smashed it down one more time before letting the bear die easily with a pair of large claws through its throat. Smoke rumbled a sigh as he backed up from the wall, and calmly surveyed the rest of the cave. Devoid of other life, the only signs that something had been here was the carcass now laying on the floor. This would be a safe place for the dragon to shelter in for a short time. He found a pit reaching deeper into the cavern in the back, and after tearing off enough meat from the grizzly mess for dinner, he quickly deposited the rest of the remains there. Whatever called the deeps its home could have what he threw aside.

Smoke was a dragon. Old beyond the imagining of the petty humans who wandered the landscape of the islands he made his home now. Far stronger and more resilient than a mere beast of the wild, his ancestors had shaken the world with their power. All of that had changed in the War of the Scouring a thousand years past, but even limited in their abilities to assume full draconic form now, dragons still commanded fearsome power and inspired mind numbing terror in the human populace of Elibe. Such was their reputation that entire armies would form strictly for the purpose of bringing down the scaly horrors. That was why there were few dragons left in all the lands. That was why Smoke had made his home here, on the remote Western Isles.

Now though, Smoke was distubed by something. One red eye opened up and he once again surveyed the cave. He'd fallen back against the wall to rest himself after resuming human form, and as he'd slept a thunderstorm had blown in. Apparently, it was a pretty serious one, and it had forced a traveling convoy to seek shelter here, of all places. He wasn't overly alarmed. He'd been interested in investigating this area precisely because he had heard rumors of activity by the Newcomers here. Not the natives who had lived here for since before he had moved in. The Newcomers. Largely Etrurian, although with smatterings of other peoples scattered among them. He had lost track of time as he'd kept mostly to the north over the years, and stayed out of peoples' ways. Even he still heard rumors on some of his wanderings though. Whether true or merely the ramblings of an addled lost soul he was never sure though. What had interested him enough to come out of his northern home was word that someone was funding a gold mine.... That could be a lucrative venture, and one that would bear some watching. A gold mine was interesting. Someone actually looking to make one was a far more intriguing prey for the treasure starved Smoke. It had been years since he had added anything to his collection. A patron like this would be bound to have something worthy of being added though.

"Get the horses inside! Oleg! Get around behind that cart, and give it a push.... I'm tired of all this rain!" There were probably twenty or so men at least, which meant it would be crowded up there. Maybe this was part of the venture that he'd heard about. If so, a little information sleuthing would be the next step.

Picking himself up and dusting himself off, the black dragon headed towards the caravan. They'd find him anyway, so he might as well get this over with. And if a fight broke out, then may the best dragon win.

"Mmmm... Hello. Wasn't expecting company tonight." His voice was low, and seemed to carry with a smooth charm meant to set people at ease as he spoke. Nothing like the sounds he was capable of making when transformed, but it still carried a bit of a base rumble to it slow deliberate delivery. Even in this weakened form.

"What's that?! Who's there?!" A torch spun in the grip of a man, and the sounds of several weapons scraping their sheathes sounded as Smoke suddenly found half a dozen weapons trained on him, and their wielders approaching from the frontal arc.

"Easy fellas... No need to stick me full of holes yet."Thunder cracked outside as smoke glanced around at the ones threatening him, and took a step back, raising his hands up to show that they were empty. "Just wondering what was going on with such a large crowd is all."

The speaker, a well muscled man in a bit of iron plate and with a torch and a spear glared at him, unimpressed. It was far from a good cover story, but the simpler the dragon could keep it, the easier to maintain it would be. "Who are you? And what are you doing up here?"

"Well, I live around here. I travel as I see fit, until storms like this force me into shelter for the evening."

[Charlotte]

“Step down, Garvan, that’s no way to greet a local.” The voice that sounded from the group was distinctly feminine, attempting to break the tension with its soft, soothing purr. The clicks that sounded directly after were none other than the heels of Charlotte, though her usual choice of clothing was forgone by a heavy traveling cloak with fur lining the inside of the hood, which covered the young woman’s head as she stepped forward. She didn’t seem to be the leader of the group (and she wasn’t), but considering the circumstances Charlotte had taken it upon herself to keep these useless oafs moving.

Considering Etrurians were the last people she tended to do business with (as she had no interest in the generally religious folks), Charlotte had taken to the group of men as traveling partners only, recognizing she would need more than herself to make it through the Western Isles – especially the mountain ranges. As soon as she’d discovered the group’s path, Charlotte weaseled her way in with a few of her standard fallacies – “I lost my guide” and “I’ll stay out of trouble, I promise” being the two she’d picked for this particularly sympathetic group.

After the small caravan had been moving for a while, the group’s leader – a rather handsome fellow who went by Ryker – split off with just a few men, saying that he would meet the group up ahead at a crossroads he’d marked on the map for the men. Well, the group arrived at the meeting place and waited at that crossroads for hours until the storm rolled in. All the time, Charlotte had mingled with the men, making jokes and ensuring them everything would be fine with Ryker. Was she certain? Of course not, but the reassurances were building rapport for her, so she wouldn’t complain.

Finally, the storm blew in and forced the caravan to find the closest place to take shelter. Charlotte had spotted the cave, but she let Garavan, the iron plated man who threatened the stranger in front of them, take the head and lead the men up there, allowing herself to head up the back so she could keep an eye out for any signs of Ryker. The moment she heard the men unsheathing their weapons Charlotte couldn’t help but worry that they had happened upon some wild animal, but she was relieved to see it was just a man – albeit, a rather strong looking one at that – standing in front of them.

“My apologies, sir,” Charlotte offered, lowering her hood to reveal the golden waves that weren’t tucked into the back of her cloak. She decided a bit of honesty would likely help deescalate the situation, though she didn’t doubt the twenty men could handle the one if anything were to go south. “A few of our traveling companions disappeared a few hours ago, but like you, we were hoping to wait out the storm in the, ah, comforts of a makeshift shelter until we could set out again.” She paused, looking over the man and noticing he was a bit light on traveling wares. She smiled, motioning behind her. “We’d be glad to share some of our rations if you can spare the space for a few hours.” She ignored the grumbles that had sounded behind her. Technically those rations were not hers to give, but by the lack of true dissention, Charlotte knew that these men valued a dry space for the night over a bit more food for each of them.

[Smoke]

The distinctive click of heals on the cave floor echoed a little as Smoke. He carefully turned his head as a much prettier voice spoke up from near where the rest of the caravan was. My, oh my... There was quite a sight heading towards him. The golden locks flowing down over her shoulders glinted as fine as any gold that he'd seen in these lands. The furlined robe she wore. That was good work. And the placating nature of her words stroked the dragon's pride far more than his own act of pretending to be a weakling like these creatures were just in order to fit in.

"Well, Fair Lady," Smoke said softly, glancing back towards the man named Garvan who still had his weapon out.

"I'd say that we have an agreement. And I certainly wouldn't want to give Master Garvan any occasion to put that..." Smoke looked down at the weapon still out. A steel bladed sword. Nothing spectacular there. "... to use."

Garvan still scowled a bit longer, but eventually, he took a step back and sheathed his weapon angrily. As he did so, so did the rest of the fighters nearby.

"You want to play host? Fine. But you're responsible for his actions, and we'll all be watching. One wrong move..." Garvan looked back over towards the humanform dragon, as he finished his threat.

"And it's the last one you'll make."

Smoke had a difficult time stifling the snort trying to break out as the man went back towards the rest of the caravan and went about getting things ready for the night.

"Does he always reek this much of fear and suspicion. Regardless, you have my thanks for stepping in and inviting me to join you for the evening. I expect I would have been chased out without your intervention.... I am known as Smoke when I do make it into town around these parts. May I have the pleasure of your name, Golden One?

[Charlotte]

Charlotte breathed a small sigh of relief as Garvan stepped down, prompting the men to sheathe their weapons per his example. She had no issue playing host to their new guest, as he’d likely prove more interesting than the Etrurian travelers she had been “befriending” over the past few days. By and large, the group’s character was as she had expected – which was to say, anxious and conservative in action. Thankfully, though, no one in the caravan was a missionary or a priest, as the last thing the woman wanted to hear about was the Prophet or St. Elimine. There were mentions and sayings that some in the group used, which Charlotte didn’t mind, but blatant evangelicals? Charlotte would pass on that.

With Garvan off to get the group turned down for the night, Charlotte turned her attention to the newcomer, able to finally give the man a good once over. Instantly the young woman would describe him as rugged and rough, and he certainly didn’t ignore his physique. It was quite clear he wanted to present himself as an intimidating figure, what with his bulging biceps out for display and the ragged scars carved into his knuckles. His clothes, while sturdy, definitely were worn in, but one thing in particular stood out to the cloaked blonde: a fine corded necklace with gold and ruby adornments lay on the man’s exposed neck. Charlotte had to wonder what something like that would be worth, and why on earth a lone traveller would be in possession of such a thing. Even a guy like him should be worried about being mugged, she thought, interested in why he would wear the piece so openly.

But Charlotte wasn’t the type to pry right off the bat, especially when she didn’t see a way she personally could get the piece off of the man. Besides, she was supposed to be a good host, wasn’t she? She smiled, nearly blushing as the man addressed her. Now, Charlotte had been called a lot of things by a lot of men, but “Golden One” had to be the most creative by far. Her lips cracked into a please smile.

“I am Myscha,” she replied, giving the same name she had provided the caravan members. “And Garvan’s harmless, he’s just pretty lost without the caravan leader, even when he’s supposed to be doing the leading in his absence. “ Charlotte was speaking more openly than normal, though it largely had to do with the fact that she saw no reason to hide the business of the company of travelers. They hadn’t tried to hide anything from her, so she assumed the information she had wasn’t of any value and could be given freely.

“And it’s no trouble at all, really. We’re just glad you’re willing to share the space for the night.” Charlotte removed her damp cloak as she spoke, revealing her tightly fitting traveling clothes and leathers. Thigh-high boots that were stained by the mud and rain graced her legs, while forest green leggings covered the rest of her legs. She wore a similarly colored blouse, which was shaped by a tautly tied leather corset and detailed with strips of leather which revealed her chest. As a whole the traveling gear was detailed and seemed cared for, which could also be evidenced by the way the woman carefully folded her burgundy cloak in a way that she would be able to hang it to properly dry for the night.

“Which reminds me...” Charlotte held up her forefinger, moving away from the man for a moment over to the rest of the group, grabbing what looked to be a medium-sized satchel after she hung her cloak over the side of one of the carts. As she walked back over to where Smoke stood, Charlotte pulled a decent sized portion of rations – mostly jerky, some nuts, and a piece of bread – and offered it to Smoke. “We did have a deal after all.”

[Smoke]

Smoke continued eyeing Myscha as she removed her cloak, studying what he could about her. It was obvious that she was a beauty from her grace of movement, and her obvious dexterity. It wasn't just her attractive form that he noticed though. The clothing she wore was made for ease of movement, and while she was slender it was the lean muscle of athletics that was underneath. So she was someone from a hard life, or someone who had chosen to be prepared for one at the least. Still, he wondered what her motivation could be for coming out here. And he wondered what those travelers had come up here for. Perhaps it was tied with the news that someone was trying to start a gold mine. Maybe this was the crew coming for that purpose.... He wondered what the relation was between the caravan and this gorgeous young woman. Garvan seemed the sort to boss around anyone he perceived as under him. Whether it was needed at the moment or not. He hadn't gone full bore bluster on this one.

"Myscha...." he said quietly, as if testing out the word on his tongue. His voice was low as something akin to a smile graced his lips. He hadn't spoken much in recent months, but there wasn't a more potentially rewarding time than now to start again. He could remember hearing its like in many of the countries he'd traveled through. It was probably rooted somewhere in Ilia if he wanted to track down its origins though. He didn't.

"You are truly generous. Thankyou." Smoke took the offered food with a smile. It was his due, after all. But it was rare that he actually be able to enjoy it. Even now, this wasn't truly tribute. Merely payment.

He quickly bit down on the jerky, enjoying its rough salty texture as he chewed. While not particularly hungry, he wasn't about to turn down this gift.

"You said that some of your companions became lost hours ago? And it sounds as though your leader was among them.... What is your business up here, anyway?" He spoke around the chewing until he gulped down the piece of jerky that he'd started on. "Not often that a band of travelers are found heading into the interior. The mountains deeper in are not known as hospitable to civilized folk."

[Charlotte]

This man was… interesting, to say the least. The way he masticated on his words, much like he chewed over the jerky Charlotte had given him, was careful and deliberate, almost as if every word was chosen especially for that sentence. Maybe he was just a lone traveler? She’d heard of travelers who were a bit out of social practice after solo trips, so she assumed that was the reason for his interesting demeanor. It definitely made her want to learn a bit more about why he was out here, though.

It seemed his curiosity was piqued about their little traveling group as well, being that he dove right in to asking where they were headed. To be honest, Charlotte could care less where the actual caravan was headed, considering she only needed them for safe passage through the notoriously rough peaks. But she had enough sense and a honed ear to know what they were in the area for; though she wasn’t sure she wanted to share that information openly. It wasn’t hard for Etrurians to have enemies after all.

“Oh, I’m honestly just traveling with them so I didn’t have to travel alone,” Charlotte admitted after chewing on a small handful of dried fruits. Her next statement would be a fabrication. “But you know Etrurians, always on some sort of pilgrimage to some holy site or another. Can’t remember the exact shrine, but it’s on the way to where I need to go so I came along.” Her distaste for the Etrurians as a whole wouldn’t be hard for Smoke to gather, considering Charlotte didn’t do much to hide it. She really didn’t have problem with religious types so much as the “holier than thou” types. They just came off as much too judgmental for her tastes; they had no idea why someone made the choices they did, so what right did they have?

“So what is a man with a name like Smoke doing heading into the interior?” She purposely repeated some of his words in a teasing fashion, her voice lightly bouncing in a low sing-song fashion. “It’s pretty dangerous to make a go at these mountains alone...” She paused, her eyes again glancing over his toned build. He appeared very capable of handling himself, but when alone in the mountains of the Western Isles with gods knows what monsters hiding around every turn, it was a warranted question.

[Locke]

Locke had been traveling alone, staying hidden from bandits and beasts and moving quickly and surefootedly over the hilly terrain. Then the storm happened. And while it didn't particularly bother him, Locke was much more comfortable with the earth than the sea or sky... And a lot of wet made him damp. He didn't really like damp. So he needed a place to wait... And ideally eat as well. He was quite hungry. After traveling a ways on human rations, Locke had begun to have cravings for freshly killed meat. So far, the only things he'd seen had been scrawny rabbits and tough, chewy goats. It was quite the disappointment. At least back in Nabata, there had been fleshy, fatty camels. Mmm.

Scanning the surrounding hills revealed a small cave mouth up a ways to the south, so Locke set to climbing, using some draconic strength to aid his passage. A few rocks shuddered as he climbed, and when he neared the top, one fell from above, bouncing and coming for the manakete with disturbing speed. Locke chuckled and half- shifted, allowing his tough hide to absorb the impact, and then reverting and finishing the climb, having barely broken a sweat.

There was a loud rapping noise at the mouth of the cave. Many heads of the merchant company swiveled, and a lightning flash illuminated the grim and foreboding figure of... a monk? Locke stood in the doorway and began speaking, his words almost drowned out by the thunderclap that followed the lightning.

"I seek to shelter from the storm, and I ask nothing of you but some of the space you have here." Locke's nose twitched as he smelled the unmistakable odor of fresh meat and the faint twang of blood on the air. "And maybe the bones of that carcass you have there, if you won't be eating it."

[Saturos Prox]

Saturos adjusted his hood as the downpour began to worsen, making sure it covered as much as humanly possible. Cold was fine, dandy even, but rain? Terrible. The last place he wanted to be right now was in the middle of the Western Mountains, but now that Aidan’s war was coming into full swing it had become far easier to place the Prophet’s men all around the increasingly tired symbol of rebellion. Because of this, the wily swordsman’s superiors had thought it best to use his prodigious talents to investigate rumors of a dragon near the gold mining operations of a wealthy Etrurian noble out in the Western Isles. The man had expressed a lot of worry that his affairs were at risk, and as the lord had provided much financial support to the Prophet over the years, his concerns were to be immediately dealt with. At least until the Bernese Rebellion moved into its next phase, that is, because the according to Saturos’s superiors, the rebellion didn’t need his help to sack castles. Supposedly they had proven perfectly capable of doing that already, and they hadn’t cared that Aidan was growing increasingly more unstable. No, in fact, they saw it as progress. Saturos thought otherwise.

The operative shook his head in frustration. He had been happy to have avoided the whole Marcus debacle, and now his spymaster was sending him on another of their dragon hunts. Why him? While he was an expert in survival skills, disguise and infiltration were his real forte and he didn’t see what help those would be against a possible dragon. What was he supposed to do, befriend the scaly beast? It seemed like a waste of time. If they found a dragon, and it started causing problems, they could just send in Admiral Aurion’s fleet and wipe it out. It wasn’t like these things were unkillable.

Saturos walked on, and as he did he began to hear the shouting of men and the whinnying of horses a ways away. It was getting dark, and the thick raincloud cover didn’t make it any brighter, but to the south from where he currently was he could see a lit cave and couple of figures, both horse and man, moving in front of it. Probably men traveling to or from the gold mine, which meant Saturos could probably shelter with them to stay out of the rain, and maybe even scam a free bite to eat. No point in using rations if he could find food other ways.

But as the Etrurian adjusted his trajectory to make his way over to the cave, a shadowy figure came bounding up the side of a nearby cliff face at an incredible speed. Reactively Saturos ducked behind the nearest tree and drew his sword halfway from its sheath, continuing to watch from a more hidden vantage point. The figure, now more apparently human, kept making his way up the side of the hill with ease. The feat was inhuman, which made the operative think of only one word: dragon. Had he found the beast already? Saturos looked on with wonder as the man merely shrugged off a falling rock then finished climbing up the hill without a care. That had to be the dragon, but why was he heading to cave full of people? Were they his friends, or was he looking for a snack? Time to investigate.

[Smoke]

The larger man frowned a bit when he failed to get a straight answer from her. Not that the vagueness was unexpected. A chance meeting in the wilds wasn't a reason to give away all your secrets. A chance encounter with a dragon was a chance for him to put everything together anyway though. She'd given away that they were not heading to the same space and that checked out from the way Garvan had spoken to her earlier. The claim that they were heading to some shrine or other fit with the fact that she'd called them Etrurian, but it also fit with his assumption that there was a band of people coming up here to get the gold out of the earth. If anyone would have the power to do this, it was the Etrurians. Their governors held the most power on this island of any faction. Maybe the time had come again to turn them all onto each other as the ruthless feeding pack they were.

"I know it's dangerous. It's why I live here. Fewer people to worry about. Fewer laws enforced.... Bah. The governors of the cities, and the warleaders of the tribes further to the north. All they wish for is supremacy in their own little dens. There's something to be said for the freedom from their worries that living out here gives you." That could be taken a multitude of different ways, and it was mostly true. The main reason he had left civilization behind was simply because he was tired. Tired of hiding what he was to blend in with the little people. Tired of all the betrayals that these shortlived ones seemed to inevitably make. He didn't wish to return home with the knowledge of what he'd seen either though.

"As I said before, I live here. In the hills and the mountains. I wander where I will, and occasionally make my way into town between." Between the scraps with those things that managed to cross him. He left that part off though. "I probably know this area better than any guide you could hire." A short blunt statement to cap it off. Maybe enough to get him a little more information or accessibility to the group....

A voice rang from the front, and Garvan's growled out response was audible over the thunder outside.

"Who are ya! Hold still, and drop your weapons by the cave entrance! Why should I even let you in here?"

"Sounds as though you're needed again, Myscha. Someone should relieve him of his position before he gets your company killed. I know a few people...ahem, peoples who do not take well to such rude travelers in these parts."

[Charlotte]

The life Smoke described was one that Charlotte wished she could partake in again. When she’d had her time with the group of smugglers that had taken her away from her apprenticeship, it was the first time Charlotte had felt truly free to do what she wanted, go where she pleased without having to worry about punishment. Even now, she looked back fondly on parts of that time, longing for a time when she didn’t have meetings or stalls to run or jobs to complete. Granted, Charlotte wouldn’t be able to live alone out here like Smoke did, but to not have the commitments she was guided by now? Charlotte couldn’t help but be a tad bit jealous of him.

“Well I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get to tear myself away from this band of merry travelers,” Charlotte joked playfully, though she did make note of Smoke’s claim. She didn’t doubt that the man had a better working knowledge of this area than most, especially if he called these mountains his home. That could come in handy whenever she needed to work through this area again. Not to mention she was enjoying their conversation, which was proving much more interesting than Garvan’s lamentations about the missing Ryker.

Charlotte audibly sighed in exasperation the moment she heard Garvan’s voice roar over the thunder. “You don’t have to tell me twice... Give me one moment.” Charlotte quickly whisked herself away from Smoke, stepping around the men who were scattered about the mouth of the cave before she found Garvan, with blade drawn and visibly shaking, staring down what looked like just another lone traveler.

“Garvan,” she started low enough that only Garvan would hear, just a hint of agitation in her voice. “I think you need to get some sleep.” Her hand moved to lower his blade, and he didn’t fight her off. “It’s been a long day and you’ve protected your men long enough. If anyone else happens across the cave in search of shelter, I’ll handle it, okay?”

Garvan thought for a good few moments under a furrowed brow. “Like I said before,” Garvan finally growled, though the fatigue was apparent in his eyes, “yer responsible if any of these strangers so much as toes outta line…” He sheathed his blade, glaring over towards the green cloaked man and then back to Charlotte. “And if yer sharin’ any more rations, its coming outta just yers.”

“That’s more than fair,” Charlotte conceded with a nod. “Now go get some rest. You deserve it.” With that, Garvan shuffled off towards the bedrolls some of the men had laid out. Charlotte simply shook her head, looking towards the new face, raising her voice so she would be heard over the storm. “I’d stay clear of those men if you’re looking to take shelter here for the night.” She pointed to the opposite side of the cave from the caravan, which while a bit draftier would keep the travelers an acceptable distance away from the tired and wary men.

“Over there is as good as any. I’ll see if I can procure a few spare bedrolls.” The blonde was being inexplicably hospitable, though it was largely because she didn’t want any trouble. If anyone was traveling on this road tonight, they would undoubtedly seek shelter and would find their way here. If they were kind to passersby, it made for much less risk to them. When it came down to it, though, Charlotte was putting her own neck on the line for these strangers, and a large part of that was just sympathy. In any case, Charlotte waited for the man to move to his respective side of the cave before moving back over to the caravan’s spot and rummaging through the extras.

[Locke]

"I carry no weapons. I am a traveler, who wishes to shelter from the storm. I ask nothing of you but space..."

When the blonde approached him, easing the stalemate, Locke nodded graciously and moved to the empty space she had indicated. As the woman mentioned bedrolls, looking through her group's supplies, Locke again spoke up, quietly and respectfully. "I thank you for your concern, but I would not want to impose. I am fine with the ground, ma'am." Indeed, the manakete had already made himself comfortable, nestling himself between a few boulders and setting his cloak over one. With his satchel in front of him, Locke prepared a small meal, sighing in disappointment as he took out some of Kyle's rabbit and some of his desert moss. He'd run out of cactus fruits, and there was no sign of a fresh kill, but the tantalizing smell of blood on the air kept his stomach yearning for meat.

Locke finished his snack and peered curiously at the other occupants. There were the caravaners, and that friendly woman, and another man. He was big, and well-muscled, as opposed to Locke's thin and lithe build. And the man wore a beautiful necklace, adorned with gemstones. Maybe he was some sort of hermit? Either way, Locke wasn't quite sure where to go with a conversation, and so decided to sit quietly and wait. Maybe he'd learn something from their conversation.

Suddenly, a pang of worry struck him, and he slid his hand into his robes to feel his stone, safe in its leather pouch. The cord was still fastened around his neck, and the dragonstone was warm to the touch. Its spirit spoke to Locke, telling him about the earth. Usually, the voice was soothing, but now, it seemed anxious. Unsettled, even. Locke listened carefully. It seemed like the earth was not stable in this area... Something stirred underneath the surface. Not man, or beast, or spirit, but the rock itself. Locke decided to check back later. He'd been warned before by his stone, but it was in Nabata, and the warnings had helped him avoid dust storms, sandslides, and sinkholes. This warning was different. He didn't recognize its signs, and it seemed foreign to him. Locke was glad for the information. It would help him later in his travels, if he could deduce what it meant.

[Smoke]

Smoke snickered in amusement at the expression Myscha wore as she went to deal with Garvan. He was turning out to be a full time job. Made Smoke wonder where the man's talents lay if he had truly been chosen as the one to replace Ryker. More than likely, it was where his loyalties fell rather than his talents. Choices such as those could often be made in the interest of winning favor and making sure your people were in control. Sometimes, it could lead to bad decisions being made clearly evident though, as it was tonight.

"Careful, Stranger. There be beasties about in this cave." Smoke said as he saw a smaller man claiming to be a monk enter. He looked the part, that was for sure. Smoke had heard of those sorts before. As crazy as the religious sorts, but in their own way. Some gathered in their little schools, and spent their days thinking over life's big questions. Like what was it's purpose? Was it right to kill? Could one ever attain ultimate peace? He'd heard plenty of questions like those over the years. He'd found no definitive answers yet, and he doubted any of the humans with their mist-among-the-waves lifespans would ever find any. Couldn't blame them for trying though.

"That one's been half rabid all night." He said his bass voice filling their corner of the cave, as he nodded towards Garvan. He caught the man giving him a dirty look and narrowed his eyes, meeting the mans eyes as he returned the frown. Smoke's red eyes continued to hold Garvan's gaze in an unblinking stare from across the room, until the other man quickly blinked a few times and looked away, griping under his breath as he did so. "He simply needs someone to follow. Like any dog, he needs a master. Without one, he worries he will be found out."

Smoke looked over and settled his gaze on the new person in the cave. This was a much less focused gaze though. Less like that of a predator, more like a normal person. "Myscha understands." Smoke smiled sedately at the blond woman as he moved to settle himself in against the wall, a healthy stretch from The New One.

"Taking care to avoid conflict and remaining polite can be just as important as having the strength and will to break those who continually give affront to you."

New One had a light build, long green hair, and was dressed in loose flowing robes. There was an interesting piece of armor that Smoke's eyes lingered on for a moment, but it was quickly determined to be too small for him. It was interesting though. He wondered if there was a story that went with it. The most interesting feature on the man definitely had to be the tatoos on his face and neck. These, Smoke was certain that he had seen somewhere before, but couldn't place them. He'd been around for about six hundred and fifty years. There was bound to be quite a few things that would look familiar, but that he wouldn't be able to place without some serious concentration. These in particular were practically screaming at him though. Taunting him with their familiarity. When was the last time he had seen marks like these before...?

[Charlotte]

With bedrolls and another small pouch of jerky in hand, Charlotte made her way back over to the pair of men she had essentially welcomed with open arms. Part of her could definitely understand why Garvan was upset by all of this, but in the long run it paid not to make enemies in the pass, especially those who lived in the area and knew it well. When it came down to it, sacrificing a little food and space in a large cave was priceless compared to keeping her peace of mind.

Before she broke from the caravan, though, a shaky hand grabbed her shoulder. Charlotte was slightly startled, but she knew it was just Aeron, one of the older men in the Etrurian caravan. She had spoken with him a few times, and she had gathered he was also the most anxious of the group as well. He was clearly worried by something, but as to what Charlotte did not know. “Aeron, what on earth is wrong?” He broke eye contact with her, looking at his feet and rubbing his wrinkled and tanned hands together as he spoke. “Do you really think it wise to let these people stay with us when we’re so close? And when Garvan is sleeping and Ryker is missing?”

Charlotte forced a smile. “I spoke with Garvan about this, didn’t I? You have nothing to worry about; I’ll have my watchful eye on the men for the entirety of the night.” His eyes still laced with worry, Charlotte’s tone became more direct, her smile fading. “Aeron, just because these men are sharing the same cave as us does not mean they are following us, all right? And if they were, don’t you think all of our men could take two wayward travelers?” Finally the man gave her a slow nod, to which Charlotte responded with a light pat on the shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about, see? Now get some rest. If this storm passes we have another day’s travel ahead of us.”

The young blonde left Aeron, walking back over to the other side of the cave within earshot just as Smoke was describing the de-facto leader of the small caravan. Even without hearing a name Charlotte knew he was talking about Garvan, and considering only a short time had passed since Garvan had half of the caravan draw their weapons on Smoke, she couldn’t blame the man for voicing ill opinions of the man. She wasn’t Garvan’s biggest fan, but she knew he was just doing what he thought was right, even if it was incredibly wrong.

Charlotte appreciated that the burly man understood the stance Charlotte had taken on the whole situation. But as she tossed a bedroll and a bit more jerky the way of Smoke and the new arrival, Charlotte couldn’t help but want to speak in slight defense of Garvan. “Garvan’s simply a very plain man who wasn’t meant to lead anything, let alone anyone. He was raised and trained to live by the sword, so being averse to conflict isn’t in the man’s nature. He’ll die by the sword for his ignorance, no doubt.” After setting her own bedroll down on the ground, Charlotte quickly rolled it out close to the men and near the cave wall so she could sit with her back to the wall within sight of the entrance of the cave. She was hopeful no one else would happen upon their spot, but as flashes of lightning and the torrential downpour continued, she wouldn’t be surprised. So for now, the woman chewed on a bit of jerky and kept an eye on both sides of the cave. Charlotte could tell she wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.

[Locke]

"Some are meant to lead. Others to follow. The majority of hu-er, men, choose the wrong path. Too often they seek power, wishing to be idolized and followed. Yet they do not realize that they are among those who should follow... The wise know when to step up, but also when to step down. That is what makes a true leader."

Locke had met the large man's gaze and held it, unblinking, as he spoke. His tone was quiet and free of malice or anger, and his eyes gleamed with the wisdom of many years. The large man was an interesting specimen, that was for sure. His diction was such that he was continually referencing his own strength. Locke couldn't help disapproving. Human men always thought they were the strongest of creatures. They were only the proudest. The woman, on the other hand, seemed foolishly kind and altruistic. There was no good reason for admitting him to the cave; the obnoxious guard was in the right by being wary. If Locke wanted, he could morph and devour them. But he was not violent, hungry though he was. His mind was his weapon, among so many humans.

What were these humans doing here? He couldn't imagine why the group would distrust strangers so much, unless they were up to no good. And the large man seemed to be relishing the discord. What an interesting picture of human contradictions. Their hypocrisy was immense. They bickered among themselves, squabbled, and hated anyone who was different. Xenophobia to the extreme.

Locke got up, walking into the darker rear of the cavern, sniffing the air. The scent of blood seemed to emanate from a pit. Pity. He was hungry. Well... No, it wasn't worth the risk. He couldn't tell how far down it was. A real shame. Returning to the humans, he curled again into his rocks and looked at the two faces that weren't completely hostile. "I am Locke."

[Saturos Prox]

Despite the heavy rain, Saturos steadily made his way up the jagged, winding pathway towards the cave. Unfortunately, the once dirt pathway had turned into a thick, semi-flowing layer of mud, and while the Etrurian had managed to maintain a fairly steady footing in spite of it, he couldn't keep himself from slipping into the mud at least once. Fortunately, however, the rain was coming down hard enough that, after a few more minutes of walking, the swordsman was pretty much washed clean by the downpour.

Soaked and more than a bit miserable, the operative reached the cave entrance. From where he stood, he could see the group's carts pulled into a circle at left corner of the mouth of the cave, keeping their contents out of the rain as well as forming a bit of a barrier between themselves and the rest of the cave. And while they all slept, or at least tried to sleep, three figures stood at the other side of the cave, talking, or at least, not sleeping. One was a large, dusty haired man wearing an assortment of leathers who stood out from the other two not for his large size but rather for the fact that he was entirely dry, meaning that he had been in this cave when the miners had arrived. The other man was a green-haired robed sort who struck a far less imposing figure than the first and didn't look much like the kind of person one would expect to encounter out in this mountains. Still, Saturos didn't recognize him, and yet he was covered in rainwater. Hmm...

"Myscha," said Saturos, stepping into the cave's entrance and out of the rain. He dropped his hood and looked at the two men standing with her. "Sorry, I'm late. We got caught in the storm and took shelter to wait it out, but when the rain didn't let up, I came back to check up on you guys." The swordsman glanced back at the carts. "Did Garvan cause much trouble when I didn't show?"