Tilda sighs at the notice of people whom she knew judged her. Magician. That is what they think of me? Just because the goddess blesses me does not mean that I am worthy of battle, let alone to be instructed by anyone other than my Goddess' will. What they assume martial prowess or entertainment is but a force of habit - a way of living. My ancestors, once pure, have turned against the rest of humanity. Very few of them are seen as "good" in this age. War and conquering, what fuels their ambitions so? Simple religion? Are we not all of flesh and blood, of our own beliefs? They send a "Magician" to represent the peacefulness of their home, only to be told to fight amongst soldiers? Then again, where reason has failed, where else is humanity to turn to against a tyrannous nation? Often I wish societal norms and traditions did not clash as so. I believe I have taken a side, may Dami understand that I have taken the lesser of two evils.
The bard places her right hand over her heart, her left arm bent behind her back as she bowed ever-so-slightly. "Ipté enchant you", is muttered from her lips, one of the more audible things to have ever been spoken from the hushed Tilda besides her songs - though rightfully, in her eyes, not hers to claim.
She had been given time to prepare. With such time, she had brought upon herself darkened armor for hiding - something Tilda only wished she could do better. Besides this, she had brought basic herbal remedies for the travel, should the sea, mild wounds, or illness starts to affect one of what she would assume would be her allies in whatever endeavor Ottis had planned for them. The "swamp witch" and the knight were certainly odd, the only one of the trio of them she considered remotely normal was the knight. Whether or not this person had the true spirit of a knight, despite her meek appearance, remained yet to be seen, however.
Tilda drew interest into the "swamp witch", for what would bring someone such oddities but The Gift of the Gods Themselves? She wondered what role this "witch" would fulfill.
Finally turning to Ottis, she gives a respectful nod. "I am not one to tell fabricated stories; the decisions of our ancestors were made to teach the people of Today. Our ancestors, though not all heroes, paved the path for whom we are now. Their stories, no matter their size, must be remembered and honored by our kind. That is my duty, sir." Though she sounded traditional in her speech, she showed no hostility toward either side of what she knew was a dispute, at the very least, between nations. One thing was clear, however: Tilda did not like the hostility of the other side.