Soldiers seemed to enjoy complaining and gambling in equal measure. Or so thought Zatana Aleana as she moved along the edge of the camp, her dark and worn cloak sweeping along the dew studded ground that warned ice and winter snows would soon take hold. Adjusting the slight mask of rough fabric to fit over her nose a bit more comfortably, Zatana watched as a few of the men who did notice her look pointedly away. They were wary of the strange woman who was a wraith amongst the trees, and she could only bring herself to be amused by the thought. Checking her gloves were on tight, she knew why they worried. What woman wrapped herself up in so many layers as if the sun's touch would be poison to her? Even those who looked under the hood and saw her black eyes would see the dark lining of kohl that rimmed them. The shading of ashy grey makeup that disguised even her skin. Alas, it was hardly makeup but her actual skin, not that Zatana wanted them to know that!

Seeing a slight commotion she was drawn from the path she had been walking to inquire as to the source. The battle-loving, Acrius was just having a tussle with two soldiers, and it seemed they were the ones worse of wear as the mud-spattered men passed her and deeper into the camp. Her lips twitched under the mask, had they really thought they could best the young man? From what she had found out over the last month Acrius had bested in the arena to join the Prince. Zatana dismissed the thought for the moment, while it was interesting it served no current purpose and she had more interest in making herself of use. Which was the crux of why she was heading to the now five people standing along the road, and she considered holding back a time.

The large grey form of Manald was intimidating and Zatana had little enough knowledge of beastmen culture and abilities that she was wary of the large man, and drawn to learn more. Her grandfather most likely knew, but in her hundred and twenty years Zatana had found little cause to remember the specifics of the race. The other two, aside from Acrius and the Prince, were human. One a trained soldier, the other was a tall women. Rudolph and Faira respectively. But the crux of why she was dressed so that her skin did not show was the impressive figure of the Prince to the Grand Empire of Man. Prince Leonidas Lionheart. She had saved him from an assassination attack and joined his guard in doing so. While that would be cause of celebration, Zatana sincerely doubted there would be welcoming cheers to find the Prince had been saved by a Dark Elf, 'Drow', who just happened to be very well trained at sneaking around and stabbing people. It wasn't that her people did not do that, they did. Her people- or rather her grandfather- had exacting opinions on whom to stab where and when that person should be stabbed, if they should be stabbed at all. There were other ways to deal with someone that were far more tasteful. Still, that reputation went before her. For the sake of sanity, and not incitng a mob of angry nobles and commoners alike, Zatana chose to hide what she was. Allowing tales of vicious scars and deformities to float about. There was one rumor that even suspected she was a ghost!

Stepping up behind the group, she spoke in a soft and oddly young voice. While her age could be counted beyond the age most humans would call 'old', in truth she was still soft-featured and fair. Elven advantages. [color=SlateBlue]"Perhaps, Your Highness, I should go ahead of the company and see the state of Bergkoff. If the fighting is finished, or not yet started, the information would be valuable, yes?"[/color] There was a slight accent to her words, a few of the 'r's finding themselves rolled.