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Magdalene thought the most difficult part of her journey into the Bone Sea was walking through the sands. Now she saw that the greatest trial was actually sitting and waiting in the most comfortable room in the entire damned desert. As more and more people filled in, the meeting tent gradually grew louder and more rowdy. At first she was able to tolerate the redheaded woman who bickered about every minor and irrelevant adjustment to a map they planned their route on, that was acceptable planning. Then a man, creeping around the room ever so slowly, finally seated himself behind her, only to begin quietly singing,

[color=6ecff6][b]"I don't want no Orthosi shilling, I don't want to be cut down. I'd sooner be willing to make me'self a killing, living off the the Ladies of the Town..."[/b][/color], The man sang, bordering on practically muttering. His quiet, half-effort words buzzed against her ears, irritating Magdalene as she sat in silence. 

Then, making matters even more difficult, another man came, bringing in a goddamn [i]horse[/i] with him, deciding the best of all places was right where Magdalene was sitting. She leaned over in her seat as the beast was led practically right over her table, concerned that the beast of burden might absently try to start munching on Poe.

“Hope you don’t mind my friend here," The horse's guide began, "I just have some trust-issues with people coming near my horse...So, what’s your name?”

They had extremely fidgety motions as they stood over Magdalene, a nervousness that betrayed the calm and articulate tone of their voice. An elf, probably? Magdalene had few encounters with elvenkind, but his tall grace and loose motions gave her hint to the rumors they heard. Quickly glancing at the horseback stranger, she managed to spot elongated ears on either side of his head, confirming her prediction. Seeing as she already made a short gaze with the stranger, she saw had no choice but to answer his question.

[color=9B631B]"Just... Call me Maggie, I guess,"[/color] she answered, before turning her head back forward, averting further eye contact. Though he kept a stoic face, his eyes were just as anxious as the rest of his body language. Something else about his face got her the wrong way, too. Almost too wooden and forced. 

Then, as if the meeting couldn't get any less formal, a goddamned bug-person walked in. Maggie heard even less of the... Gee-Sin-Yee? Than elves, let alone that one would be willing to go on such a dangerous expedition. As soon as they entered, they started making a dreadful noise, almost like it was... Chuckling? It's strange, mad chuckles continued as they pulled out a book and started scribbling down in it, gazing about the room. Soon after another man came in, towering beneath his robes and wide-brimmed hat, wielding a massive axe. Once they got seated, they looked over to the bugman, and, strangely enough, began to join them. Great, now there was a horse in her face and [i]two[/i] laughing idiots. Making things even worse, a giant made of stone ducked their head under the doorway as they entered the tent, and then the room felt so much smaller, as their awkward walking knocked aside several pieces of furniture in their way. At this point in time, Magdalene felt outright uneasy, burrowed on all sides by stress of the situation. She shrank herself down even further, practically hiding behind her neatly folded arms, desperately hoping that the delegate would get everyone to sit down and shut up already. 

Already drained of any energy before their expedition even began, Magdalene hit a breaking point when a gods-be-damned Kaimerian had the unholy gall to walk right in the tent. Despite trying not to make eye contact with anyone or anything, she immediately recognized when they entered the tent, despite being practically buried in furs and wearing a skull-helmet. Perhaps it was the iconic pair of horns, or it may have been Magdalene's own tug of an ancient yet warmly familiar terror rooting itself into a knot in her stomach. The room started to get hot and humid, even moreso than the desert she just crossed. Magdalene could just barely taste the scent of burning wood in the air. She clenched her hands into impenetrable fists, yet her instinct to get up and make a scene was dulled after years of living as a woodswoman and robber. Instead, she just sat there, glaring directly at the Kaimerian the entire time, growing deaf to the rest of the chaos in the circus tent.