It was almost a relief to see this village without the same raging fires as the last poor place. Gods, she even dared to imagine they wouldn't have to fight their way tooth and nail through the streets this time. Geradin's military eye pointed out early on the almost imperceptible dip in the landscape that marked a fortified ditch, built so that cavalry raiders or monsters would only see it at the last moment, which was more protection than the last village had to be sure.

As they approached the local militiamen moseyed their way forwards with fairly typical weapons. Alice did suppose her party looked very suspicious, especially with the large lizardman. As a wizard she briefly considered throwing up a few wards on herself and her companions if possible, but she was far too burned out from the events of yesterday to cast even basic spells let alone the subtle spellcasting needed in a tense situation like this. Their new Dark Elf friend prudently moved her way to the back of the group, Alice gave a small nod as she did trying to relay her thoughts of [i]Thank you, this will help[/i].

As they drew closer Alice considered stepping forwards first, to take the ire in place of her comrades. Ragnarok would hardly accept her cowardice just because of being tired should she be judged today. To her great surprise the priest beat her to the punch, and was probably best for it having the experience he did with common folk.

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'My friends, I greet you most graciously,' he spoke, surprisingly loudly to Alice's ear. She wondered if it was experience or blessing helped him speak as such. 'Be not afraid, for we are but weary and humble travellers through these lands, and all told quite agreeable to those who would be our friends and acquaintances. If it would not trouble you, sirs and ladies, I might ask that you be so kind as to allow us to partake of what your abode has to offer, for we have spent many a night in peril, and seek only shelter and refreshment in a land that is distressingly short of both.'

Alice took it upon herself to hold her hand out, calling the group to a stop, before speaking out herself. [color=royalblue]"We may be an odd lot, but we have coin and news if you'll have us. We can do business outside of your village if needed, truly we only require supplies and guidance although as our priest here says,"[/color] she gestured towards Settionne, hoping her utterance of his occupation would endear them all, [color=royalblue]"A warm bed and warm food would not go to waste."[/color]

She tried to read as many of the faces as possible, seeing how these Southlanders would react to the two Vrettonian foreigners. 

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The few guards were reluctant to speak until a particular individual strode with purpose out of the gates behind them. He was clearly military; if the walk, scars and recently shaven heard were anything to go by. A damned good one if he was as seasoned as his weathered armour and built frame looked.

“And we would like to help Your Reverence, but I’m afraid to say that you and your fellow travelers are a suspicious lot and it’s often dangerous to trust blindly here in the Southlands” He raised a good point, namely his sword, which he brought to rest upon the ground in a clear statement. [i]Damn, an Andred all the way out here, what are the chances?[/i] Alice thought, and hoped he'd left his prejudices for her own rival nation back in his homeland.

The other guards and militia were emboldened by their leader's presence, as it became obvious that he must indeed be as such. Their stares had been anxious before his arrival, not taking their eyes off of the visitors; trying to get a read and preparing to bolt as soon as they caught scent of danger. But now this Andred Knight was here they stood much more ready, hands were clasped around weapons and their gazes looked to their own numbers, judging their own strength and always keeping an eye on their leader, ready to attack as soon as the command came. They were evidently better trained than the average rabble, and that might work in everyone's favour since it was less likely an arrow be accidentally loosed or anyone would act too hastily.

“I’ll do you the courtesy of assuming that you aren’t here with ill intent.” The man continued, though his armament and tone did little to show his belief in those words, “But before we let you in I’d like to know what’s your objective here, and how did you come to this place. Did your Dorcha [i]friend[/i] over there guided you here?” His gaze seemed to part it's way through the gathering, and even courtly Alice couldn't refrain from cussing in old Dwarvish under her breath. Though even such a foul word to describe warm ale was nothing when compared to the sourness in this knights voice as he pointed with an accusatory finger at their companion, which he then returned to the hilt of his weapon and resumed his dangerous stance.

Alice spoke up first and quickly, she hoped, as she knew there was little as guilty looking as an awkward pause. [color=royalblue]"Yes, she did indeed lead us here. Out from the heart of Dark Elf homeland, from tunnels beneath us even now. As a group we slew more than a few of her kind,"[/color] a little exaggeration never hurt anyone. [color=royalblue]"She has been true enough so far, and if you don't believe me then believe Geradin's honour here. How many Dwarves do you know that would stand within a hundred feet of a Dark Elf without weapons raised without a good reason to?"[/color] 

She gestured towards her friend, to make sure he was not lost in the crowd due to his more diminished stature. [color=royalblue]"We ask not that you accept us or trust us, only that you either allow us service or passing in peace."[/color] she was really hoping for the former but either would be better than what the situation was quickly building up to be.

[@POOHEAD189][@Gardevoiran][@Mortarion][@Fetzen][@Stormflyx][@BCTheEntity]