Araguay Woods
@Eklispe
When Arus reached the civilian caravan, he'd see the dozens of elderly, women, and children standing around talking amongst each other as a token force of soldiers flanked the makeshift camp on all sides. He was greeted by an oddly dressed man with a green cloak and an obnoxiously large orange horn fashioned to his forehead.
"Well met," the man spoke, motioning to those seemingly under his command as soldiers began corralling and organizing the people to move once more. It didn't take long for everyone to fall in line and for the group to begin it's trek through the woods, following the myrmidon with little to no deviation to his guidance. Yet, as they began to progress further, the oddly dressed man would ride up beside Arus- the verdant shade of his cloak contrasting the yellow feathers of his feathered mount as it squawked contentedly at being draw to a slow trot, "So, how bad is it? Even from here, the scent of blood is heavy in the air." Not a moment after asking his question, he'd turn his gaze back to the civilians trailing just a mere yards behind them, "A lot of these people won't survive out here. I hope Holliander knows what he's doing, but I can't help but think Vernire was right. This trek may very well be a folly. But with the numbers we lost the other day," the man paused for a while before turning his gaze back to the forest before him, "I just hope Vernire doesn't blame himself for this if it goes south. He's a troubled man, but a good one at heart."
With the small exchange done, the group now traveled in silence through the woods. Luckily enough, no more risen seemed to be roaming the area as they quickly came upon the sight of the survivors from the fray before, desperately setting up makeshift tents and other fixtures in an attempt to ready themselves for the coming nights. As the summoner's gaze fell upon the sight, he fell silent a moment before asking in a distant tone, "Where are the rest?"
@Lugia@Evanist@Cyrania
As the trio spoke to the brothers, they'd notice that the tension between them was slowly dying... Or at least digressing into mere glares versus the exchange of lows. Erion would notice that neither of the brothers had any adverse reaction to his healing, merely casting a glance in his direction- Vernire with a glare and Holliander with a smile. As Joanne brought attention to the stone, Holliander would nod at Robert as he spoke out, waiting till the mage finished his speech before adding his own, "The church has wanted nothing but peace for the land, thus is why we hid the nature of the stones. If everyone knew the artifacts responsible for the artocities all those years ago was still in our possession... It would led to utter chaos-"
"More like you bastards were saving it as a fail-safe in case your iron-grip on the world waned!" Vernire snarled loudly, "Don't pretend the atrocities of the church were warranted in any manner. While we struggled to make a living on scraps, you 'holy-pigs' slept in mansions and grew fat on pork and wine."
At this, Holliander seemed to take great offense, though offering not another word, "Perhaps this was just a misunderstanding... We can settle this back at camp." With that, he'd attempt to move past Erion towards the direction of the road. Vernire instinctively drew up his sword, bearing his teeth like an animal.
"I'll be damned if I let a traitor back into our midsts... The only way you're going back is in chains!"
At this, the emtions seemed to boil over once more, the brothers staring each other down as the trio stood around them.