Voss was apparently the last to reach the coach, having grown to be less than pleased with this northern concept behind hiding in wooden boxes upon wheels that were drawn by horses. Far too easy to be blinded to threats that otherwise would be readily apparent to even warriors traveling via horse or camel. Yet enter the coach he did, for better or worse, for he was sworn to this duty by his [i]Julda[/i], as she was convinced his sword arm would be needed in these northern affairs. He was not nearly as concerned towards the weight, light as it was, of his equipment causing issue to this decrepit parody of a carriage. He would take whatever space was available to seat himself, his shield with its honed edges resting easily on the floor of the transport. His sword remained sheathed at his hip, shifted to rest comfortably and remain easy to access should the need arise in a hurry. The cart driver was named Roake, and Voss distrusted him immensely. Something was off on a instinctual level, yet he had little choice but to ignore such instinct and proceed. In his grip was a parchment, stained a faded red, hinting to others that the previous owner had met a less than noble end.

	Voss recalled the parchment had been handed to him by his [i]Julda[/i], her remarks on a band of trespassers having been found with numerous copies of said scrolls in their hands. Initially thought as treachery or propaganda, eventually they reached the Julda who had informed them that it was little more than a call to arms for those willing to aid them. Not uncommon misunderstandings, hence why neighboring civilizations tended to go through very specific methods of contacting and arranging to meet for negotiations with the desert tribesman. Trespassing too close to wherever a tribe resided was inviting death, should they be uninvited and unguided by one of the tribal folk. Yet he had been instructed in enough of the language of the North for him to be able to depart and learn further as he traveled, and he was fluent enough now that communicating with others usually did not go poorly. At least not due to a language barrier, some had seemed to take the sight of a desert tribesman as ill omen, or otherwise disliked apparent savages wandering within sight of them. Yet he had managed to garner enough information to get this far, and once settled in, turned his steady, wary gaze towards those who had also answered this call for whatever reason.

	[color=gold]"No expense spent, only the best for us."[/color] A soldier woman, who matched the trappings and stance of the outsider Templar. What few encounters he personally had with their order rarely ended well, and less reassuring was what some of his kinsman had spoken of during conflict with bands of such soldiers. Yet this one seemed, for now at least, content to remark on their general situation, in an attempt to foster camaraderie he suspected. Smart, but the surest way to forge such a disparate group into a proper fighting band was through war. Time would tell whether this soldier woman would be of any value outside of taking the first blows, as her lot seemed eager to do. Before turning his gaze to the next, he responded simply enough, likely to be surprisingly fluent in the common language used outside his people. [color=598527]"So long as we arrive, it will do. Needless flaunting of status can be saved for the [i]Kastan[/i]."[/color]

	Next Voss' gaze would turn to the offered drink by the bandit. His people had such folk, useful in scouting and wandering ahead of the main tribes, ambushing would be enemies and looting the dead. Rather than turn away or frown upon such people, they had accepted and found a place for those with gifts such as what this bandit likely bore. Some may accept, some may pass, but when the drink offer reached him, he made a single nod and took a brief swig of the flask, careful not to simply drain its remaining contents and leave the provider of liquor without further drink himself. [color=598527]"Your offer is well met, [i]Baan Taas[/i], and accepted. One with sharp eyes will be useful. "[/color]

	Voss recognized the prayer of the woman in a dancer's garb, finding such a person offering prayers to the End of Things a strange sight indeed. She had also accepted the [i]Baan Tass'[/i] offer of drink, before making a sly remark on fortifying the courage of dead men, having used a viper's spit of the liquor to light an incensed candle. Prayers and incense, a [i]Vul Julda[/i], though her garb did not match the usual attire that those that followed their oaths to the End of Things, perhaps she was of another sect? It was a curiosity that would be answered, in due time, though a follower of the End of Things was both a comfort, and a concern, to have around. Death followed in their wake, though who was to die was rarely a concern of theirs. His tone was neutral, though more cautious than prior when he addressed the woman. [color=598527]"For those who walk as mortals, [i]Vul Julda[/i], courage is all that will help those who cross their path with [i]Vul[/i]."[/color]

	Last for Voss' gaze to cross was a woman, dressed in fine appearing clothes, and one who lacked a honed gut might simply have dismissed her as a jumped up noble and leave it at that. Yet, his gut screamed at him, for reasons he could not consciously place, and he distrusted this woman the most out of those present because of it. She had turned down the drink as well, and seemed intent on resting instead of communing with others present. There would be little rest to be gained on this rickety old carriage, Voss mused, instead opting to instead keep steady track of those around him, what they chose to discuss, and go from there. He had made what remarks he saw as necessary, and would speak further if circumstance demanded it. Otherwise, he would keep his peace for the time being. His manner of speech had been rugged, and accented, likely giving away his origins without ever speaking of them directly, though he had grasped the northern language better than some of his kin, he had slipped into his own tongue all the same. Something he would have to address if asked.

[hr]
[@rivaan][@GodOfWar][@Nameless][@The Fated Fallen][@Paradoxial]