Johnathon eyed Soah warily when the man claimed the blood wasn't his. If that was true then where had it come from other than some kind of fight? Whoever their stranger was, he didn't look very violent or threatening. Again, more people for the mountaineering. He followed up on Crom's question, "Yeah, we're bringing on all the help we can get to scale these mountains and travel out west. The weather out there is much better, I hear." He wasn't even sure if they'd be keeping together outside of Aldrun yet. They'd all agreed on going west but there was a lot of space between here and the next mountain range, a far more civilized one they'd no doubt find a well traveled pass through. The range which marked the end of fast-held Arcarti territory and the beginning of the regions directly bordering the small nations composing the League. The heartlands were, if you believed all the nonsense told by travelers, a dangerous enough place without a war brewing. He was pulled from his musing by the arrival of a familiar voice, one that he couldn't quite remember the face to until he turned around. Griff, alive and well. "Welcome back," John said, waving to the returning party member. "This," he turned back towards Soah, "is hopefully our newest member on the trail west."