The prison carriage forged ahead of the procession of Titan and Aspect dignitaries, its iron-plated wheels churning across the dirt roads without difficulty. Its coachman was an old man with a shaggy grey mane and tired eyes, and if he cared at all that he was transporting a wolf god to the capital of Atlantis, he didn't show it. He had lived a long life in service to Asgaheim, and he had seen more wicked and stranger things than most men knew existed. Gnarled hands urged the cart's stags ahead with a whip of the reins, his head bowed low so the brim of his hat kept the sun from his eyes.

His dwarven companion was just as quiet. Thaddeus, Prince of Asgaheim and Lord of House Vannerac, was busy scanning the treeline for nothing in particular. He didn't expect an attack from without- even the Atlanteans, bold as some of them were, were not foolish enough to attack both Asgaheim and Fomoria at once. Nay, if there were violence, it would come from the twisted monster that he once called a friend.   [i]'And I'll call her friend once more,'[/i] he assured himself as he glanced back over his shoulder at the beast. She stood as tall and broad as a castle's battlement, her fur was black as midnight, and her claws were longer and sharper than any blade he had ever encountered. Asta had never been a particularly dainty woman, but this...this [i]thing[/i] was nothing like her.

He turned away, letting his gaze return to the trees. He prayed that Atlantis's sorcerers could find a way to help her. Thaddeus was a sailor and a warrior by trade. The only problems he knew how to solve involved a compass or an axe. This however...this was all beyond him. All he could do now was to call out to his ancestors and hope they had some answers.

Their march was silent and uneventful for the most part. The thirty dwarves that flanked Asta's carriage rarely spoke among each other, the grim nature of their duties not lost on them as they were forced to stare up at the behemoth for the whole of the journey. Fear wasn't the right word for what they felt. They were the venerable honor guard of the Black Iron Company, a force which had proved itself time and again against the Titan Kings of the south. Asta's transformation may have been a new phenomena, but primal giants and angry beasts were not. Even combat against gods was not a new thing to some of them, as the campaigns into the south had seen them face off against that corrupted cabal on more than one occasion.

The scouting party of five Valkyries was of a similar caliber. They had been hand-picked from Elliya's Chosen, a Valkyrian regiment that had been serving Yaeg'Bor personally since his first conquests in the north. They had eyes sharper than steel and glided on the wind better than any bird could ever hope to. Though they were cunning warriors in their own right, they had been brought on the [i]North's Roar[/i] for their impeccable ability to scour the landscape and note enemy positions without being seen in record time. Of everyone present, it was likely those five were the most eager to see Asta break from her chains so that they might test themselves against such great query.

Tense though the journey was, it had thus far been fairly uneventful. Thaddeus could feel himself growing restless, his fingers dancing idly against the shaft of his hatchet. He needed to find something to occupy his mind other than his wandering thoughts and worries. Thankfully for the Red Dwarf, the Silent Order's members didn't all abide by their name, and Galladon wanted to discuss how they'd be traversing Atlantis. "Seems a wise path." Thaddeus agreed with a nod. "You know these lands far better than I. I defer to your judgment." He glanced over at the coachman beside him. The old human gave only a grunt, acknowledging that he'd heard the discussion and saying nothing more about it.

The harpy made a goading joke about parading through the capital itself that didn't seem to land with any of his fellow Atlanteans. Galladon himself looked like he was ready to tear his own subordinate from the sky for the off-color jest. Thaddeus let his lips lighten in a slight grin, finding some solace in the man's humor. He considered responding in kind, but given the dark look on the Aspect of Protection, he figured it would be in poor taste.

The thought of speaking with the harpy must've wormed its way into the bird man's head, for only moments later he was hovering at Thaddeus's eye level and asking him a number of equally ridiculous questions. Thaddeus gave a glance over at the Silent Order's leader, mulling it over once more before deciding there was little harm in it. Conversation was an easy way to pass the time. "Well..." He began, thoughtfully running a hand through his bushy red beard. "I'm not too sure there's any color, in particular, she doesn't like, but she [i]is[/i] quite fond of red. 'Specially when it's slathered on meat. Speakin' of, she likes basically anything with a bit'a meat on it. Slabs of meat. Meat on bones. Meat covered in armor. Didn't have any problem digesting any of it, I don't think."

He paused at the question of intelligence, taking a moment to look back at Asta. She was laying her head on her front paws, staring right back at him with those crimson eyes of hers. It was hard to tell what was looking at him. Many an animal held a cunning behind their eyes, some of them frighteningly close to that of men. "I'm not sure." He finally responded with a shrug of his shoulders. "Some days it almost looks like she knows what we're saying. Others she's just tryin'ta eat us the moment we get close. Hard to get a read on her. Hoping your sorcerers can help us out with that one."

"I've yet to try to rub her belly, sad as it is to say." Thaddeus shifted gears to looking back to the harpy, his grin going wider. "You're more than welcome to try it, though."