As Annie asked her why and gave her reasoning, along with the awful things that Annie clearly endured, Eleanor's eyes widened with concern for the poor girl. She raised her hands up in a prayer like motion as she takes a deep inhale to calm herself down.

"Heavens to Betsy! What kind of life has Annie gone through?!"

Eleanor was at a loss of words for a good moment, but she soon decided on a course of action. This decision is based on the fact that her heart went out to this poor girl,

"She needs to know. She needs to know what she's in right now, before Mortimer gives any sort of final deal before this ritualized killing spree begins,"

She sighs, and clasps her hands on Annie's shoulders, with a sad expression on her face. She shakes her head before leaning in and speaking lowly, in hopes that Mortimer doesn't eavesdrop.

"It's going to be worse than that. The people in the masks are going to hunt us, the 'prey', for sport. Not to capture us; To kill us. The chances of the prey in this game surviving and winning are slim to none. That's why I'm apologizing: You were taken from your life...all for the sake of their desensitized personal gain and bloodlust,"

She leans away and waits for Annie's reaction.

Annie's list came to an abrupt halt as Eleanor grabbed her by her shoulders, and the hexblood's cheery demeanor faded fast as her expression turned to that of a startled rabbit. Her body tensed up, expecting the druid to start shaking her and shouting at her the way Aunt Ivette did when she was in trouble. Oh no, had she said something wrong?

However, Eleanor didn't shake her or shout. Instead, she leaned and whispered with urgency, explaining exactly the kind of situation they were in. Annie's brain was so frazzled by the sudden physical contact that it was having to race to catch up with what Eleanor was saying. Eventually, Eleanor backed off, which allowed Annie's mind to finish processing.

The fear on her face melted away to a more neutral expression. "Oh," she said eventually, before a smile returned to her face: a large grin showing off rows of pointy, shark-like teeth. "Is that all? Well then, all we have to do is win, and then none of us have anything to worry about!"

"Is that all? Well then, all we have to do is win, and then none of us have anything to worry about!"

A grunt of agreement would alert Annie and Eleanor to the presence of Mapogo, who was leaning against a nearby tree. How the leonin had come to be there or how long he had been there for was anyone's guess. But those wise in the ways of Insight would get the feeling that Mapogo had not been trying to evade detection though. He was just naturally difficult to notice unless he made an effort to make himself more noticeable.

Stepping through the trees, Arjax was far from hard to notice as he made his way to the first voices he had heard since arriving. The strange man who had brought him had mentioned something about the decision being last minute, before casting his spell. He had left Arjax in the forest the night prior after mentioning something about not having a bed large enough for him. Being too large had never been a problem for Arjax before. Given the magical man's own size, though, Arjax had little reason to think him a liar.

As the others came into sight Arjax himself would hold up a casual hand in greeting. Despite how different each of them was from the other, what struck Arjax most about them was just how small they all were. It was an odd feeling for him being the tallest in a group. Having caught part of the conversation as he approached Arjax at least knew to speak in the common tongue and not his native giant speech.

"Good morn,'" he would say, with the accented old world speak common among giants. His voice was deep with a pronounced hollowness that made it sound like the beat of a large kettle drum. When he came into full view he was in his armor and carrying his glaive, though with no intent to fight. It would not take a great deal of insight to determine that Arjax was not the type to keep his motives hidden.