Astyth had been at this encampment for more then a few days and yet each morning she somehow seemed to find herself completely and hopelessly lost. Hell, being a mere four and a half foot tall woman with an inclination towards kindness made navigating a battlefield seem like a cakewalk when compared to the shifting sea of dirty and desperate refugees she had been dealing with in growing numbers each day. She had actually been thankful when she received the note of parchment that had been calling for experienced warriors: any mission that actually got her out of this blasted camp was welcome in her opinion. Sure, she was here to fulfill a specific task for a certain little bird-a task she quickly decided could be just as easily accomplished while helping this “Lady d'Fleur.”

Doing her best to totally look like she knew the exact direction she was going Astyth wandered around for a bit more, her heavy surface world crafted dwarfen plate mail clanking as she walked navigated the crowds: of course along the way she let out several of her usual lines “Oh excuse me.” “Pardon me.” “Could you please stop stepping on me?”-you know, all the normal things one has to say around abunch of careless longlegs. 

She'd been in the middle of thinking [i]I swear this whole section of tents wasn't even here yesterday[/i] when she spotted a gray skinned horned giant of man cutting his way through the vast crowds of people like a shark through water-if she were a betting girl anyone that big and deadly looking had to be going to the same place she was. 

For a brief moment she toyed with the idea of trying to climb the walking mountain in an attempt to see over all the damned bumbling long legs. She quickly decided against such a brash course of action though as the various possible outcomes played through her head. [i]Probably not a good idea[/i] she thought to herself [i]afterall, I never learned if the rumors about them biting were true or not...[/i]

For all her travels in truth Astyth knew little about the famed horned men who went by many names: most of which held very different meanings. She found her mind trailing off as it often did, her thoughts finally wondering just what name this behemoth might use. Wasting no time she followed in his footsteps with the full belief this would work out. Sure enough in a rather short amount of time he had unknowingly led her to a a decently sized pavilion styled tent. This had to be the meeting spot for the little band of misfits being assembled by a “Lady d'Fleur.”-a fact Astyth so brilliantly deduced by the odd menagerie of men and women she soon saw gathered. 

Following directly in after her unnamed guide the mood of the group was...odd. Normally Astyth stood out as an odd duck and therefore usually worked alone but so far, well, she didn't think she needed to worry about being the “wierd one.” 

With her iron mace fastened in a hand made leather rig to her left hip and the round steel buckler hanging on her back she had the free hands necessary to lift the full faced helmet off her head. As her armored hands removed the protective metal mask that resembled a skull wearing a crown the face that took its place was almost comically different: the hazel eyes and slightly crooked nose tracing around everyone in sight. She seemed to like everyone she saw save for Garlenn, whom she gave a brief look of disgust in the form of a scrunched up nose and slight less friendly smile. Quickly though her facial expressions went back to a genuine full toothed grin as she looked at the same woman Gereth was addressing “What the big guy said.” She chimed in a voice that could almost be described as squeeky. Without saying much she seemed to take a bit of thunder out of the horned giants entrance.