A sigh of relief left Axol's lips as the horn blew its low and looming note, demanding urgency from the dwellers of this cold keep. The sellsword took his time though, strolling casually as he followed wherever the soldiers ran towards, hoping it'd lead him to where he needed to be. Though he seemed aloof, his heart beat against his chest. He felt as though the blade he wielded was a limb that itched to hurt. [color=0072bc][i]"If I can't get ale, they could at least give me a good fight..."[/i][/color] As he made his way, his mind drifted back to his current companions. Besides Andrea, whose eyes spoke of past battles, he wonders how his other companions would fare on the battlefield. At least the archer had a weapon. He prays the rest have theirs hidden somewhere in their person, lest he be burdened with carrying bodies back to the Bastion. Aena wouldn't allow him to leave his fallen comrades unburied and without prayers.

The harsh winds blew against him once more when he arrived at the ramparts. There, he found the rest of the party, and the young lord who had employed them. Axol had grown used to the cold, but couldn't find it in his heart to dislike it any less. The pointy-eared woman joined them, a strange feeling of comfort mingled with suspicion grew as her presence entered. The two exchange a knowing look, before Axol's eyes made its way to a strange man beside and even stranger machine. He seemed as out of place as the rest of the travelers. Is he lost? Slowly, the sellsword starts to piece it all together... 

[color=0072bc]"GODS!"[/color] He yelled in frustration. Another one? One more to take a slice out of the already thinning pie that is their bounty? He's starting to think that this is being done to him on purpose. After breathing heavily for a few seconds, Axol finds it in himself to regain composure, but refuses to explain his outburst.

[color=0072bc]"Archer."[/color] He said without meeting to face the charitable young lad, his tone flat and clearly still heated. [color=0072bc]"What is your name? You seem young. How badly do you need the money? Are you willing to be more charitable and keep only ten-percent?"[/color] He then side-eyes the alcohol-hating lady, whose face seemed to turn pale upon seeing what hid behind the raging wall of snow from the distance. [color=0072bc]"You've spoken with her, yes? Does she think money is a sin? Does she intend on taking her share?"[/color]

Axol takes a step to the edges of the wall to see what the young lord was referring to... And for a moment, his heart stopped. He had faced monsters before, but these... Too many. Cold sweat trickled down his brow as he felt a fear he hadn't felt in years. The creatures seemed intent on either storming the keep or leaving it in ruins to get elsewhere past it. He could feel their cold eyes even from such a distance; he knew that instinct drove them. Axol half-heartedly listened to the loud captain's advise, and his words of warning only served to make Axol's heart sink deeper. As he stood frozen for what was hours in his head, the fear in his heart is slowly invaded by a new volatile chemical; excitement. The two danced in his chest like a deadly brew, his grip tightening around the handle of his greatsword. Andrea's encouraging tease served as the spark to ignite the sellsword's own spirit. [color=0072bc]"Aye. The Gods are kind to us, friends. They've granted us a good fight!"[/color] He says to the other travelers as he turned and strode past them to follow the Exiled, battling the fear of death with a manic smile and thirst for the clash. [color=0072bc][i]"They'll not have me just yet, Aena. I won't leave our boy. For now, give me leave to do what I love most."[/i][/color]

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