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Gerard Voss

While horses were certainly sharp in their senses, sharper than your average human, Gerard did hear the shifting of brush, armor, and movement approaching him all the same. Sure enough, as he turned the small light onto the approaching figure and his horse. Once the pale, clearly artificial, light was cast onto horse and rider, several facts were made readily clear. Firstly, this fellow was either stupidly rich, or well beyond his concern to be picking fights with, if he were that sort. Even on horse back, he estimated the man to be at least six foot, if not taller, and clad in what appeared to be dragon scale, or appeared as such. He had never seen dragon scale first hand, but descriptions from dwarven smiths that had worked on such materials matched what this knight was clad in. The sword reeked of enchantment, for those with the senses for it, muted as they were from this distance. The rest of his considerable kit was taken into stock, well forged shield and lance, though the bow was hidden out of sight for now. The man broached a curt greeting, as to why a noble born would be out in the swamps at night, and should make his way to the nearby town. Yes, well, that had been the plan all along, thank you very much.

"Hardly noble birth, can't say the same for the last owner of this coat though. Shame the necromancer got to him before I did though..." That was an old story, where he had gotten his hands on the coat that was well above what he would be paying for traveling attire, at least typically. Adjusting his glasses, he holstered the Shortcaster as he spoke to this knight, considering he need not be armed while staring down a mounted knight in dragon scale. Upon recommendation that he make his way to town, he cocked an eyebrow at the knight before shrugging idly. "Really? Well, and here I thought it would be easier to find a slime to cozy up with for the evening. What a shame."

The tone of voice that Gerard had was, all the same, dripping with sarcasm since he had already been making his way towards where Wanderneir had been located. He had been making steady progress during the day, though the night had slowed him down, he should have been able to reach the town in the next few hours at this pace, given the likely location of the town itself. When it was mentioned he would be better off hopping onto the horse's rump and ride the rest of the way, he shook his head in a negative fashion. "And be indebted to someone who can afford those kinds of arms and armor? Funny. I would likely be better off casting myself into a slime pit at that rate." From the sounds of it, Gerard was certainly wary of the offer of charity, and given his response, it was likely he had, in his younger years, taken up such an offer and been left worse for wear in the long run.

Gerard Voss | Approaching Wanderneir

"Go to Wanderneir they said. Stop irritating the dwarf traders, again, they said. Stop coming back after every expedition, they said. The main road being through a swamp was hardly mentioned. And not even an interesting ruin in sight..." The blue coat and dark silver trims of the long coat that was being worn by the human would normally be fairly decent at not standing out in low light situations. Of course, the shock of pure white hair did not help in that matter at all, nor did the fact he was keeping his surroundings well lit. A small crystal was hanging from his belt, having been resting in a pouch before needed, and trapping a small amount of agitated mana inside of it and letting it refract, thus producing light. He knew full well that swamps hid all sorts of things, from Slimes to other beasts, so the last thing he needed was to stumble into something blind. It wouldn't be fun for anyone involved then, realy.

With his surroundings lit, Gerard was keeping to the dry patches as best he could. Swamps held all sorts of nasty, tricky things for those unaware. Last thing he needed was for his gadgets and experimental pieces of equipment to get lost in some swamp and rust into nothing. Considering the state of the roads, such as they were, he was mostly working off the clear spots he could see Wanderneir in the distance, plus the odd sign that was either damaged or otherwise present to some degree. At one point he had caught the sound of something moving through the brush and low lying swampland, and he had produced his Shortcaster, the six barreled contraption, and was moving through the area with it in hand just in case. The bioluminescence was a boon to a degree, but it only lit some areas. The problem was the areas that were not lit, which meant he produced his own light, though nowhere as potent as a proper torch or lantern, it took up far less space and mana to use.

"Last time I was in a swamp, nearly stumbled into a Slime den, near enough for them to wake up. Took nearly a week to clean the goop off my boots..." Such was a habit of his, constantly muttering or talking to himself, it kept him focused and alert instead of constantly trudging on in silence. He had to constantly sweep and search the area as he moved forward, sometimes angling the light from his crystalline replacement for a lantern to light up suspicious deep spots. Again, he had no interest of stumbling into a Slime bathing pool and having to try and fight his way out. Sure, he had no doubts he could manage, but that didn't mean he wanted to. "Should have left earlier, then again, would have been leaving at night to get through this swamp by nightfall. At least on foot..."
As a heads up, I'll be posting outside of Wanderneire, add to some of the shenanigans potentially brewing out there.
Getting my fellow moved over to the character tab, I'll try and have a post up sometime today.
Alright, sorted out finally. Apologies for the delay.

Hmm, this does seem to have the potential to be rather interesting, I'll be getting started on a character then.
Alright, got a fellow sorted out for consideration.

Notes: Italics are thoughts, and unless otherwise noted, thoughts are in German.
Is Weiland
Is his Hermingja, Ermendrud

"Now then, given current circumstances...." As far as Weiland was concerned, he had already dismissed the seething, short bundle of rage, considering he wasn't even looking in her general direction now. Ermendrud, however, was keeping an eye on her, a sly grin that was unseen to all on her face. She found the young Voss' antics rather amusing, given his general attitude, though she did feel obligated to say something to her partner when it was apparent that the young, angry girl was going to be resorting to violence to rectify things. "Given current circumstances, I would shift your weight to your right leg Voss." Resisting the urge to raise an eyebrow at the remark, he did as instructed, having learned to trust Ermendrud whenever she said such things out of the blue, and sure enough, she was once again in the right in her actions. There was no way he could have seen that or prepared himself without forewarning, and the amount of force behind the kick was unexpected.

A sharp, clipped hiss of pain from the sudden kick that connected rather solidly with his left shin. Now that was much more strength than he had been expecting from some girl in her teens, which shifted his attention back to her as she barked about him being a rude idiot for first nearly running into her then insulting her. So, highly ill tempered and extraordinarily sensitive about her height. Not necessarily surprising, given her response to being nearly collided with, but confirmation was good. What had not been anticipated was the strength of the kick, something to be keeping in mind should he find himself dealing with her more. Be ready to avoid such blows, given the likely bruise that was now forming on his shin. Adjusting his glasses, his gaze focused down at her once more, a touch of intensity and clarity despite his rather devil may care attitude on display. "The kind of rude idiot who does not shy away from his nature. I'm sure you understand that, given your rather crude approach to dispensing notification on your displeasure."

Yes, he was still being antagonizing, in an off hand sort of manner, but it was just who Weiland was. Considering he had learned a few interesting, useful bits of information, all without having to ask a thing or even offer information on himself in return, it was all going smoothly as far as he was concerned. Of course, Ermendrud had gone back to looking around and watching their surroundings, considering she had redirected Weiland's attention back to the angry young lady, the spirit's job was done once more. She would be listening in, as she always was, but that was nothing new really. Weiland was alarmingly used to a complete lack of privacy, what with having the spirit with him at all times unless he gave her leave to manifest and do something, and even then, she rarely left his line of sight or, barring that, ability to stay in contact with her.

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