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[@Lucius Cypher][@Rekaigan]

"Oi, snotskin! You keep liein' ta people an' I'm likely ta' put ya down!"

Stomping his way over from a nearby tent, Rairsun held a large cleaver in one hand with a shield strapped to his back. Like the others arriving he had been called from somewhere else, though he could not confirm if it was the same world entirely. Dwarves spoke of their natural attunement to the stones of home and these were not home. Not even close.
Turning to the newcomer he continued politely. 

[color=brown]"Ya don't pay nothin' Lass. Wars comin' an' we need'a stay together! Whats mine is yours if it means we get back safe, aye? If ye want some [b]real[/b] food ta stuff yer belly then come ta me! Rairsun Cragshield, at your service."[/color]

Getting close, Rairsun eyed the orc from the corner of his eye and turned a glance at the Orc. 

[color=brown]"Don't eat what he cooks ye. Likely ta give ye the same complexion."[/color]

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Jericho felt his stomach knot as more people filtered through the wormhole as some had begun to call it. The monk had never been the academic type. His calling was a hunt, to strike down foes. Finding the way was the only thing a pathfinder truly held as the pinnacle of their abilities. Unfortunately this was the first time many of these people had ever set foot upon this place, from the looks of the camp around them. No maps, no trails, no way of knowing what was edible or where the enemy called home. Outside their immediate field of view there was nothing known to them.

Gazing out past the tents, Jericho briefly wondered if he should dive right in and explore. It wouldn't be the first time he had made a reckless and selfish decision.