Virtura Ilmata heard the commotion above. A face appeared from the hatch and announced ther imminent arrival. She stared at the man for a couple of seconds before getting to her feet. There wasn't much time left to prepare, and since she hadn't equipped herself properly yet, she'd have to make haste. Dressed merely in a simple casual tunic, she wouldn't seem like much of a threat as she was now. Quickly fetching her leather armour, she started undoing the straps. It took her a while for her to don her vestment, so she tried to pay attention to things going on in the background in the meantime.

Reinham spoke, his voice heavy with the weight of his authority. She listened intently, but didn't stop with what she was doing. She could don her armour with her eyes closed anyway, so she had plenty of attention to spare. His advice was simple, but it was good to be reminded of the seriousness of their mission. When he mentioned the oppertunity to ask questions, she only let the silence flourish for a moment, allowing others to inquire first, before deciding to speak up: [color=6ecff6]"I have a question..."[/color] She started. Her accent was subtle, but noticable. Common definitely wasn't her mother language. Her voice was soft but thick like honey. [color=6ecff6]"Where are we docking? I assume there's a town or settlement where we'll be arriving? I studied the old maps but..." [/color]She let her sentence end there, the rest of the story being pretty obvious. She didn't like to admit it, but she hadn't been able to extract all that much information from the old maps. She'd felt blessed to be allowed to take a few of them, but they turned out to be a lot less useful than she'd expected.

Following her quesiton, there was one initiate who decided to speak up as well. A rather strange looking man, even for a witch hunter. A very agile and nimble physique. Elegant, sophisticated... she'd dare say he looked rather [i]feminine[/i]. A shawl draped around his shoulders had a strange odor to it, though she couldn't place it from this distance. His entire posture radiated arrogance, but she'd not let the cover decide her judgement. He had an accent. Very different from hers, but an accent nonetheless. 

Then she took note of the... She'd call him a paladin. There'd been rumours around the order's training grounds. There always were, but this one had stood out in particular. An utmost devout warrior, wielding a mighty sword, dedicated to the point of obsession. A man with a small horizon, but with it came an impeccable sense of direction. It wasn't too hard to decide your heading if there was only one way to go, and to him there [i]was[/i] but one way.

Next was the bow wielding woman. Older, but smaller than she was. She hadn't heard anything of this one, but a thoughtful glance could tell her a lot. She was peering at the others at well, and although she couldn't guess what was going on in her mind, she was definitely doing the same as she was, inspecting her future brothers and sisters. But there was something else. Something that was bothering her. A slight frown, an agitated huff, a roll of her shoulders... But she was merely taking an arrow from her quiver and inspecting it. A strange habit, but she supposed a master of her art would have her own peculiar ways.

Finally there was a young man. She estimated him at roughly the same age as she was, and he was almost exactly the same height as she was. He was enjoying a game of some sorts involving cards with symbols on them. She couldn't guess what those symbols meant, but apparently he was losing... Until one man threatened another, and a weapon was drawn. Somehow that made him the winner, and he took his prize. With a befuddled look, she stared at him for a moment...

But then she realised she'd finished donning her armour. That is, as finished as she could get it on her own. Two straps on the side of her chest were still open, and incredibly difficult to close by her own. To save herself from the discomfort and the embarassment of spending several minutes trying to get the straps to latch, she walked over to the man with she scarf and the ponytail, and made a gesture.

[@Hawlin]
[color=6ecff6]"Excuse me..."[/color] She said, before turning her exposed side to him, her incredibly long and wavy brown manes hanging down to one side. [color=6ecff6]"Could you help me with this?"[/color] She asked with a friendly tone, giving an apologetic smile.