Vlor marched the party down to Judas' tent, an open area of desert property either avoided out of respect by civilians and peacekeepers alike or bought out by the Quartermaster himself. The Orc wasn't sure about this team, noting that many of the people he was suppose to lead were either displeased by Blim's decision or already ingrained that they should be the leaders. When it came down to a fight, a hunting party should b able to communicate and trust each other like family. This mismatch of freaks and oddballs was not even close to that.

This mission would not only be a test of Vlor's worth, but if they can manage to adapt and work in new situations it seemed. There was a reason why Blim choose the Orc over the already venerated Naia and Samuel. He was testing Vlor just as much at these two. The idea of it made the Orc discouraged in a way, for tasks like there were to serious to throw a rouge in just to see how things go.

AS they reached Judas' tent, an odd scent resonated from the large cloth structure. It smelt of the desert tobaccos Clan Elders would smoke in meetings, an oddly sweet but cold smell. The group entered the tent, greeted by the stench at full force. Vlor tried to ignore it, for it wasn't the worse thing he's ever smelt.