He could still hear the gentle voice of his mentor telling him it was time to go about his way. A promise that knowledge came with travel, and experience would become his teacher. Nephrus had argued that staying among the druid tribe was where he would learn what he needed. Still, the Firbolg had pressed the matter and with the realization that perhaps this may be the chance to find the person who had uprooted him Nephrus agreed. With his minimal things packed, the young druid departed the forest that had become his home, and he ventured on. Now, there was no telling where this path would lead, and by then the boy who had set the Mage's college ablaze and killed his own mother was long dead. No one sought him. No one even seemed to care. It was fine by him. 

Eventually, his travels had brought him to the seaside port where he had boarded the ship with the exchange of a small handful of coin. It was hard to find someone you knew nothing about, but there were stories that lingered in quiet places. Those were the stories he hunted. It was those stories that had coaxed Oathbreaker onto the deck of the ship, a choice he would likely regret. A creature of land, it was unlikely that the Tiefling would be accustomed to the shift and sway of the sea any time soon. 

With the ship listing restlessly, and a storm raging beyond his view, Nephrus sat cross legged on a small crate. While he attempted to focus on not retching up the small amount of food he had managed to get down, the weather only seemed to grow worse. The spear pointed tail flicked and twitched in his discomfort, a show that he was uncomfortable if ever there were one. Yet, the red skinned 'demon' managed to appear serene. Calm and controlled despite the turning of his stomach. In the bowels of the ship, there was no escape from the stench that assaulted his sensitive nose. Piss and the acidic stench of vomit do not aid in his own stomachs turning. Yet, the Tiefling continues to try and remain calm. Were the chances of an attack high? What would come for them here? Perhaps there was a chance he could survive the waters, but he had not yet mastered the more advanced Wild Shape. Nephrus was a bloody stick bobbing in the sea and he groaned meekly at the thought. 

Somewhere over head, his keen pointed ears caught the sound of screams and the lang grip of his sickle bumped against a wall to keep him from sliding from his perch when the whole ship canted to one side. Others tumbled into the floor out of cots. Something had changed. Nephrus could feel it in the depth of his chest and fingers curled a little tighter around his weapon. Mismatched, liquid metal eyes turned towards the decking over head and he tracks the sound of rushing water before it spills into the room. Nephrus gathers his coat to him to make sure it did not get wet with unmentionable fluids and sea water. Heavy boots alert the druid and slowly, he rises to his feet, an attempt to prepare. For what? The Tiefling did not know, but to remain a sitting duck was a dangerous ploy. When light flashes beyond the opening, he's afforded a look at the owner of said boots. 

An imposing figure cut in the blinding light though he does not engulf the opening into the room with his size. The armor is well made and the light glints off silver and blue studs. With strange eyes and silver pupils, the man seems almost ethereal. A ghost at best. But in the low light, he can see better than most, and the Druid knows better than to assume. It is the red head's quick gaze that makes him draw his graceful weapon across himself, holding it with both hands. 
"[color=f26522]Speak Carefully[/color]," He warned, accented voice fairly soft, "[color=f26522]we know not who we speak with...[/color]" With that pointed tail switching anxiously, he continued to observe their newest guest.