[h2][center]Nickolas Rienbach - Encampment Outside Bandit-Raided Town[/center][/h2]

Nickolas' walk alongside the caravan was rather pleasant and unevenful, something that he particularly enjoyed when away from the biting cold of his home-country. He'd never seen wildflowers that weren't as hardy as weeds when it came to the frosts that covered his old home year-round, and the delicate, sweet smelling flowers that lay along the side of the road had only come to his life as a result of the war. Small blessings, he supposed. He spent the tactician's two hours of planning resting and simply conversing with any who passed by, doing small card tricks with little bursts of flame or ice. 

As he listened to the plan, his already pale face drained of color, leaving him white as fresh snow. When he spoke, his voice was shaking slightly. "As I can place everybody but Red, the assumption goes that Red is the little miss, correct?" He peeled open his Flux tome, looking for all the world like he was just enjoying a light read of the almost acidly sweet tome. "Then I do have a question."

"Are you [i]mad[/i]? You want a flyer to charge a group of bowmen, then you send half your magic forces to clean out a building one magic wielder could accomplish easily, and [i]then[/i] throw your least experienced mage and yourself at the largest and most powerful of their forces?" He wasn't happy, nor even pretending to be, that was for sure. "One of whom, if Sir Wyvern Rider description is apt, is either a mage or an assassin, neither of which are the seemingly sure kill you assume they are!" Nickolas was panting now, gesturing wildly at the collection of buildings. "This stinks of the well-intentioned slaughter for at least little miss Syrena and yourself, and I will physically restrain you two if I have to."

He whirled on his heel, striding boldly up to the taller man and still managing to look imposing even at the nearly nine inch height disparity and the sheer ridiculousness of his last statement. Pale flames flashed behind his eyes. "Now then. I do, in fact, have another question." He put on the same smile that he'd worn for Syrena back in the courtyard, abet now void of all of the warmth and kindness and now only laced with a chilly anger. "Would you like to make an addendum to your plan now, or later, [i]Sir Tactician[/i]?" The facade of anger slipped a bit as he added: "Please?"

[h2][center]Kuur Salcair - Encampment Outside Bandit-Raided Town[/center][/h2]

She had been ready for combat in the first thirty seconds of the announcement, and then the tactician had promptly vanished. The Panoplian archer had made it nearly thirty minutes before she whisper-mumbled some excuse about 'going hunting' at Lilith, and wandered off into the woods with her bow and quiver of arrows, surprisingly stealthily for her large size. 

Kuur returned only minutes before the tactician revealed his plot, proudly bearing no less than two rabbits and what appeared to be some sort of weasel, noticeably not lacking any of the perfectly preened arrows in her quiver.  She wandered up to the side of the convoy with her prize, proudly showing off her catch with no lack of subtly despite the fact that she wasn't actually speaking; Something that didn't seem to faze her gloating in the slightest.

The archer caught Nickolas' rant in its entirety with an utterly impassive face until he finished, before blinking and turning to face the weaver of strategy. As if in direct contrast to the outburst of the northerner, Kuur simply nodded slowly and tested the draw on her bow, aiming it at the distant image of the town. Her lips twitched up in a self-confident sneer. "...I have no... problems."