Like the others the Kislevite mounted his horse, not bothering to ask for the same supplies the others received. He then looked to the Dwarfs and giggled faintly at the prospect of one of them riding a horse, before he rode onward. 

During the journey he wouldn't speak much, dignifying questions with a nod or a shake of the head if he could. He would sleep outside despite any cold of the nights and wear little clothing to defend him from the elements, only undressing if he felt hot. 

He began to be more cheery as the cold blew in, and the he felt the winds of magic grow stronger over the days. He experimentally pointed a finger at a blade of grass to see it turn an ashy white as it froze instantly before snapping in half. Smiling at the result, the ice mage continued on his path. 

Their destination was close by, before the Estalian remarked that not all was planned. The northerner dismounted at this and strolled over to his employer. He gave a casual wave of his hand through the air before grasping at something invisible. Once more, he turned to his boss and colleagues. "The winds of magic are strong today." Vlad stated in a matter of fact tone. "I volunteer. I'm not Balthazar Gelt but I think I have some insight into the workings of the supernatural." Quickly he walked back to his horse to take his shorter sword, put it upon his waist and then returned, awaiting the other volunteers.