Like some kind of barbaric herald, Revna's arrival on the scene was marked by the shattering of glass and a yelp of pain. Sounds from the tavern could be heard from outside. A harsh, high laugh. Stinging exchanges in the heated air. Words said that could not be put right again. Wooden stools squeaking as patrons abruptly stood. Dull slaps, fists pounding against bodies. A syncopated symphony of grunts, insults, and bodies hitting the floor. Two shadows came into view of the tavern's front window, one upright and massive while the other hunched and staggering, obscured by thick glass with a green patina. "Don't do it Revna! You're paying for it!" A large man shot through the window accompanied by a crystalline explosion, flopping to the soft ground like a marionette with severed strings. The man's ears were cropped, some punishment for a crime in a past life, and his clothes were shredded and bloodied. He groaned. "Quits?" A high, rasping voice called out from inside the tavern. "Quits," The defenestrated man called out as he clawed at the ground to his hands and knees. "You're smarter than you look, Algar. That's not saying much." The tavern's door swung open and Revna ducked under the low frame as she tightened her sword belt with one arm while the the other held her halberd. She stood to her full height and stretched as she walked, loosening the tight muscles in her thick neck. "Revna! You're paying for that!" The tavern owner called after her, now standing at the broken window. "Just put it on my tab!" She shouted back. Revna turned back to survey the damage. Two of Algar's friends slowly emerged from the tavern, lethal-looking drunks reeling about with bleeding, red-rimmed eyes and skin turning various shades of black or blue. "I'd say same time next week, but I'm heading out of town for a while. Official Faith business, you know," Revna called to those in the tavern with a laugh. With a single look they fetched Algar from the ground and flared like quail back into the the tavern. [i]A nice warmup.[/i] [hr] As Revna walked to the stables to check on her horse, she spotted Katrina, speaking with two others. She felt a trickle of warm blood running down her cheek from where Algar had punched her and sliced the flesh with that gaudy ring of his. The blow was already beginning to turn purple and shine. She wiped away the blood with the back of her hand as she spoke. "And that's why I can't drink alone, Katrina; you usually scare those types off. You with your grim visage. Really, this is [i]your[/i] fault," she gestured to the broken window. "I think they'll be lost wit-" Revna stopped mid sentence when she saw who Katrina was speaking with. Brother Osric was no surprise, but Sage she hadn't expected. "Well well, come to wish your old sparring partner good luck?" Revna said as she approached the trio. "Honestly, I appreciate it, but you didn't have to come [i]all[/i] this way." She knew it was no small task to leave the shop behind for any length of time, and it would have been easier to simply say goodbye in their village. Revna had dropped by to do so, in fact, but Sage had been nowhere to be seen. Then she noticed her clothes. Leather and chainmail. A slow smile crept across her face as she put the pieces together, her broad forager teeth stained with blood. "Ach, I knew you couldn't stay away!" She planted her halberd into the ground and swept up the smaller woman in a friendly embrace. Revna smelled like leather, blood, sweat, and stale mead. Katrina, while good company under certain circumstances, wasn't exactly the type Revna looked forward to spending every waking moment with on the road. Sage, on the other hand, was a far better travelling companion in her eyes, and she was beyond relieved that her friend would be joining them. Revna sensed some tension between the two women of the party, having missed something, and did her best to diffuse it. "Don't let her looks fool you, Katrina. She's a devil with that sword of hers. I should know." She pulled down the collar of her gambeson far enough to reveal a clean, straight scar that started just at her collarbone and descended down at angle down before disappearing under layers of cloth. Katrina had seen the scar before. She'd seen [i]all[/i] of her scars. But they didn't exactly trade stories on war wounds, least of all Katrina, with her strange and swirling burns like brands. "Courtesy of Sage. Won't be making that mistake again anytime soon." Revna turned her attention to the monk. "Brother Osik. May the Mother Above bless you," she said, bowing her head. The words sounded strange in her accent, as if her tongue was wrestling with the phrase. Truthfully, she didn't buy into any of The Faith or their gods, and certainly not The Mother. But it didn't hurt to say the words, or so her father had told her. Her gods wouldn't mind. She caught a glimpse of bundle of elegant daggers, and she grabbed a sheathed one without bothering to ask for an explanation. [i]More steel could only be good, right?[/i] Revna thought as she ran the leather sheath through her belt. She studied the Osric’s saddlebags and casually rummaged through them, seeing just how much the church splurged on their expedition. There was a [i]lot[/i]. Too much, by her estimation, for just them. Then again, Revna had never been in an expedition of this size, or even outside the Seven Villages since she had arrived, so she wasn’t entirely sure how much they’d need. "So, where's the rest of us?" Revna asked she climbed down and leaned upon her poleaxe, looking around as if the rest of their party would be nearby.