[center][b]Orwen Sudernlan, 'Brown', 'Woden'[/b]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8GDLy9K2Fk]A slave-rider's song, in the desert lands of the south.[/url][/center]

Orwen looked at Zacharias, rather unimpressed really, before he put his thumb and index finger together and made the 'money' hand gesture. [b]“The latter is right, but my mother is currently residing in my castle, waiting for a smuggling boat to arrive so she can get out of this hellhole. I'd follow suit, and flee to Dawn, if it weren't for the many many amounts of gold I've invested in this forsaken country. So, be happy that I invested in this country, or there would be no Consano, and the lot of you would be rotting on a burnt out pile of wood because of the infection, bunch of barbarians.”[/b] He spoke with a refined tone, one akin to a nobleman. It was obvious he wasn't letting the man annoy him [i]that[/i] easily. Orwen didn't look like a strong man, but his flail was deadly even if it wasn't handled by a skilled man. And a hidden dagger in his outfit made sure that even if he got disarmed by whomever, he'd have a backup plan. No, no. Orwen was all too sure that none of these people would try anything funny.

[b]“Besides, if I fled, I'd have to abandon most of my slaves. Don't get me wrong, slaves are slaves, but they are also still human. It's one thing to capture and sell them, it's another to lock them in a room and wait for the plague to get them. [i]Even I[/i] am not so cruel. All those little girls and boys.. dead.”[/b] He said it all with a fake frown on his face, as if he were saddened by their theoretical deaths. His frown quickly turned to a small grin, though. He took several large steps, walking around Zacharias in a circle, observing him closely and even plucking a small dust speck off of the man's clothes. He made a satisfied [b]hmph![/b] sound before he walked back to lady Buxton and sir Chester. [b]“So, what is our first objective, oh mighty lord and lady.”[/b] He said it all with a comical tone, smiling at them as he did a small bow before them. It was obvious Orwen was having a bit of fun with them, despite the hierarchy officially stating that they were higher in both blood and rank. Orwen didn't believe in that, though. Money was power, and he had much more of that resource.

Then, a man entered and raised his hand. [color=olivedrab]"I'd speak with your leader, Consano.. That is if you have one fit to speak with me. I can wait."[/color] Orwen couldn't help but grin at the man as he revealed his pricey travel garb. That seemed awfully expensive for a traveller. There was something off about this man. Something that Orwen couldn't quite place in his mind. A mage..? No.. the man looked too rugged for that, although his face was shrouded by the shadow of his hood. A traveller? It could not be, he was too well dressed to travel like this. Not alone, anyway. A foreigner? Maybe. Orwen had been to many countries to buy and sell slaves and to hire mercenary companies for dirty work. But he'd never seen this man's style of clothes. It was.. an impressive dress style. Orwen could see himself wearing something like that. Perhaps he should buy it off of the man. 

Orwen's fingers went to his mouth as he dragged his thumb across his mouth whilst thinking on the stranger. [b]“Yes-yes, you can wait. We can all wait. Time is not important for Mankind. In the end we die, regardless of whether you can wait or not. Everyone can wait..”[/b] he said, while spinning his thoughts inside his brain. It was a painfully cryptic and nonsensical thing to say, but it wasn't like Orwen was trying hard to sound like this - it just happened as he was preoccupied with thinking on what the man could be. [b]“Ah, the leader. That'd be the men and woman who are carrying actual armor and weaponry, the most beautiful lady Buxton, and her companion, the most honorable sir Chester.”[/b] By now, Orwen's fingers were on his chin, tapping it lightly. He turned round and round, taking a few steps with one hand on his side and the other hand on his chin, the elbow leaning on the hand across his stomach. Without warning, he looked the strange cloaked man in the eyes, pointed at him and said, slightly loud, [b]“I know! You are a foreign emissary from the kingdom of Dawn, who is sent to infiltrate the Consano. Why, you ask? Because Dawn fears the plague as much as we do, and is afraid the burning of innocent boats and the entire sea between them and us might not hold back this plague. So they sent you, their most valued assassin to come here and secretly aid the Consano. Atleast, until we are done and [i]fucked the plague right up the ass,[/i] because after that you must clean up all traces you've left, and kill us all by slitting our throats in our sleep.”[/b] He looked at the man for a few seconds more, before standing back straight again. He clapped in his hands one time. [b]“Or, instead of leaving me to make stupid guesses like these, you can tell us your name before you interrupt us so rudely, [i]pig[/i].”[/b]

[hr]

[center][b]Gawain Rochilde, 'Wonderman of Vahili'[/b]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVlBflmzqn8]The chant of the most holy warriors of the church of light.[/url][/center]

Gawain stood at the side, crossing his arms over eachother. He felt slightly more at ease now that there were more people in the inn, and that he wasn't the center of attention. It seemed like the man parading around, strutting like a nobleman, was actually a slave owner. He wasn't sure if the man traded slaves, because he never said that. But he did sell some slaves, something that was common practice amongst slave owners. Gawain couldn't feel good or bad about the man. The man was right, in the sense that slaves were slaves. Gawain couldn't deny that, and it seemed like the slaves under this man had a somewhat decent life, if they lived in his castle.

But at the same time, did the Church of Light not say [i]'A man is born chained, and shall remain chained until death, but the only who may hold these chains is God himself, to lead man in life. Any man that holds a chain over another man is an abomination of hatred and disease, and is the illness that kills Gods' love for the world.'[/i] Was this man the reason God sometimes chose not to hear prayers? And at the same time, Nordic gods, although many in number, sometimes promoted bloodshed and death. So according to the Northerners, slavery was normal, as long as it happened in respect and fairness. A slave treated well, is better than a friend treated badly. Gawain couldn't make up his mind. He looked at Sarah as he noticed she had looked at him, and simply shrugged. [b]“The man seems unfriendly, but powerful. I'd ignore his remark towards you, I'm sure he didn't mean to offend you, merely using you as an example. He's not yet learned that we are all equal here, in the face of death. I'm sure God will teach him that, sooner or later.”[/b] Gawain said to her, softly to not alert the others. He didn't mean to draw attention back to him. And although his words remained neutral, he wasn't so sure if he meant them. The man was somewhat hostile, but Gawain couldn't help but feel, so were the others in the group. He didn't like this. Gawain had always been a kind soul, and only had the sword for the sake of protection and, well, the Consano kind of required you to atleast be able to swing a stick at a cannibalistic plague struck man. 

This group was nothing like that. There were no kind-souls here as far as he could tell. Gawain looked around the room and let his eyes watch each of them individually. Every single one of them, save himself and Sarah, seemed to be either hiding something, or to have grave wrong doings on their name. It was up to him to figure out which one of the two it was. And Gawain hoped most of them were wrong-doers, like Orwen was. Because then he'd not have to worry about stuff that could possibly still happen.

Gawain stood silent for a moment, looking at Orwen and the cloaked man. In the middle of Orwens' ramblings Gawain turned back to Sarah. [b]“I'm sorry. I lied. I don't believe Orwen didn't mean it. He's.. evil. You can see it, hear it. He has no shame over it, a clueless wolf, not yet taught by God his duty and position in life. Time will come, I suppose, as it does for all men. But.. looking at the others none seems exactly like an epitome of piousness and chivalry. I am not sure if I belong in this group. And frankly, I suddenly don't feel sure the Consano can do what they say they can do. These men and woman aren't soldiers. They are bandits, thugs, assasins, daggers and cloaks, rapists, murderers...”[/b] he whispered, softly to ensure none of the others heard him. He turned sideways now, leaning his shoulder against the wall so he could look Sarah in the eye. [b]“God planned this for me, this I know. He holds the shackles of a man's chain, and leads them to a good life. So it was intended for me to be here, to try and save Vahili. But I am not a soldier, I am not the best priest, and I am certainly not as..”[/b] Gawain stopped briefly in his sentence to come up with a word that wasn't as strong as 'evil'. [b]“I'm not battle hardened like these people, I suppose. [i]Why[/i] does God send me here?”[/b] He looked Sarah in the eye for a moment more before turning back around again and continueing to lean on the wall with his back. The question seemed more rhetoric to himself, that Gawain needed to voice this question to someone in order to relieve himself of it. He closed his eye and leaned his head back on the wall, not acknowledging the fact that a traveller had just walked in as well and sat down at the bar.