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"That is some small miracle then, given the trek to track this place down..." The remark was not made in hostile tone, rather, seemed more relieved than anything else. The gesture being dual intended was not lost on the Branded rider, as he noted that it wasn't just this elderly fellow and that another had been present as well already, and the gesture kept things at peace. The man's remark on seeking refuge being a welcome thing, otherwise he would have to depart. Refuge, he turned his gaze to the camp in question for a few moments before answering the unspoken question in whether he sought refuge or not. "Aye, I would not have come this far out of my usual way if I was not here for refuge."

The elderly man introduced himself as Cyprus, leader of the Desert Hare, and inquired after the names of both himself and his 'beautiful wyvern'. After a moment, Altena seemed to huff briefly and almost shake her head, which elicited a chuckle out of Weiland as he rested a hand back on her neck and patted a few times. "She's not much one for flattery, if it wasn't too obvious. I would be Weiland, and she is Altena. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." Weiland left his arms sitting idly by his sides, well, the one that wasn't preoccupied resting on the neck of Altena, while he stood at, while not at ease, more relaxed than he had been for quite some time now. Even if he would likely be on the road again before much longer, if the rumor of the departure occurring soon would be proven true.
Even this early in the morning, the warm airs rising above the busy camp as one could pick out the flying form of some sort of beast, if one had sharp eyes. Such warm airs were surprisingly comfortable to fly in, certainly a pleasant change from what one might expect from maneuvering about mountain ranges, far as the flyer happened to be from such places. Weiland Voss had been making his way out towards this rumored camp, having paid good coin on leads and rumors that had finally pointed him in the right direction of this Palmyre. He knew that Altena had been wary of this path to begin with, the Desert of Death was known on an instinctive level as someplace both foreign and hostile to both of them. Yet his hunters had forced his hand, and it was a small boon that the camp was at the base of mountains, so he led the pair of them, Wyvern and Branded, in the direction of this camp.

As Weiland's eyes scanned the camp as he approached, and guided Altena in lowering and slowing so they could land and approach on foot, as to avoid causing a stir of having a wyvern and scarred man landing in the center of camp, he considered what little he had been able to learn outside of a proper direction. Some man named Cyprus was leading this group, though some had been quick to deride this man as a monster in man's guise, and that this caravan had made the trip at least once before. Of course, it had taken a great deal more coin, and arm twisting, to get a direction, but as the wyvern's claws made contact with the soft ground and jarred him out of his thoughts, he turned his thoughts to the now. He had seen a man observing the sunrise and, likely, spotted his approach, so he made no attempt in dallying or wasting time, and with an affectionate pat on the side of Altena, the two began walking the remaining short distance to where Weiland had seen the man observing the sunrise.

Finally Weiland laid eyes on the figure of a man he had seen during his descending approach, and could get a bit more detail. An elderly looking fellow, though age meant little in one's capabilities these days, as he certainly could likely handle himself if this was indeed Palmyre. He would come to a halt a respectful distance away, a hand coming to rest on the neck of Altena to inform her to halt as well, a subtle hint at the unspoken bond that no words need be spoken to understand intent between the two. Rather than stand about and wait to be addressed, the wyvern rider spoke up, only loud enough to be heard plainly without needless shouting. "Hail there, have I had the fortune to finally track down Palmyre?"

Besides greeting, Weiland was straight to the point and minced no words about his question towards the fellow. The rider himself stood steady, his attire not unusual for a sellsword that had operated across several of the sovereign nations of the land. Though what likely stood out was the oversized eyepatch, covering up some of the damage that had occurred around the socket that had once held an eye beneath the patch, and his stance, while steady, remained wary all the same for the moment. He had not, after all, confirmed he had reached his destination yet and should this not be the case, he would have to fly hard to check the other places he could think of that had matched the descriptions he had managed to gather. All of this before the days end, as it was rumored that they were about to depart the following day, and attempting to brave the Desert alone would be a slow death indeed. One he would certainly not wish upon Altena, given her rough life so far as well.
@Denny Alright, so I'm plotting an opening post for Weiland at the moment. Do you want our characters to be freshly arrived, have been around a bit and already tracked the NPCs down, preferences otherwise?
The holy warrior declined the offered flask when it had reached her, and Voss could not say he was surprised. From the tales and words of his kin who had encountered them peacefully, far rarer, they were rather stoic and refused to engage in many things considered impure or took the form of temptation. To not enjoy life was to life an empty one, live as one would fight, without hesitation. He would not tell her how to go about her business, however, and would keep his silence until the foreign woman, in attire similar to foreign nobility, spoke up about hunting creatures of the night and evil. His mind snapped back to the Vur Julda who's actions had led him to eventually be among the company he was. His brow was furrowed as he considered the question, how best to translate what he had seen in the dunes to what she was likely referring to, and these things turned his thoughts away from a pretty smile and natural allure.

The Templar answered first, rattling off some sort of direwolves, and bat hybrids as well. Neither such beasts were native to the desert, though he could better put to their words what unnatural beasts one might have to face living a noamds life in the sands. "Nothing likely native to this land, but the shifting sands have hazards of their own. Bala Ban Vul, drinkers of those unwary, and unable to fend off, their dangers are a constant." The holy woman's question in regards to whether this foreign woman, well more foreign woman, had experience in hunting beasts herself was a curious one. Something lurked, not latent either, in this fine garbed woman, that little he could tell. Something was off, his instincts wary and fearful of danger, and not just due to being in foreign circumstances. No, something was off here, something that he could not readily place, and he would have to remain on edge until it was revealed.



@GodOfWar@Rivaan@Paradoxial@Nameless@Eisenhorn
Working on a post now, need to shake this procrastination slump anyways.
I'm still here, been distracted (which is no real excuse, but there it is all the same).
@Denny Done and done!
@Denny Posted him over, and Raven blood it shall be then, want that added into the CS as well so it doesn't get forgotten?
@Denny The lack of spacing and indication, time wise, of the series of events definitely created some confusion, which is my bad, so I clarified and added some more to his background. He had met and began traveling with Altena, his Wyvern, in his early thirties, and spent time training after that. I added a paragraph covering the fact he took a several year hiatus to, in short, get over his fear of heights, get accustomed to flying and fighting in tandem with his wyvern, and working from there. I also added on some detail into his recent history that explains why he is going on the pilgrimage, but long story short, escaping Daine vigilantes that figured he was a Branded and that he, on his own at least, can't take on.

As for lineage, I actually had not given it much thought, though I am currently leaning towards a Raven lineage. Dragon could be interesting given his status as a wyvern rider, though that would need an explanation as to how his father met a Dragon tribe and why she fell for him. So, really, whichever would work better for the story/reducing headaches on your end works for me.
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