A rustling of in the underbrush just outside the camp ring alerts the adventures to a new presence. A smallish, heavy set figure wearing a cote of scale worked of bits of leather and bone holding crude stone tipped spear. His head is bald, with the exception of a long black pony tail sprouting form the back of his skull. His almond eyes and square features mark him as a human from the far east. His body posture delicately balanced between prepared for fighting or running.
Xania starts upon seeing the stranger. "Hey!" she yells, trying to attract Forte or Ullar.
Ullar,used to the "Hey's," when he was working as a guard, looks up to Xania. His eyes fall upon the stranger Xania is pointing at, and he quickly gets on his feet, taking his Greatsword with him, but not drawn, yet.
Forte follows Ullar, although a bit slower due to his wounds.
Ullar walks over to Xania, watching the stranger closely. He stands still at the mages position and waits, without calling out to him, pondering what his intentions might be.
Rhune looks over and is startled to see the man come from the underbrush. She looks around at the warriors. "Hello?" she asks in Italian.
The Steppes warrior stands slowly jabbing his spear into the ground point first and held our his arms palms up and speaks in heavily accented Latin. "No harm, where this place be?"
Ullar holds his hands open in front of him as well, and peers at the stranger with a questioning look.
"Where this place be? Eh," he pauses for a moment, but he can't make a thing of it.
"Ehm...this place is here. And here it is Italy. The closest camp is Suskachuan."
Dakath turns at the approach of the unexpected guest. He moves to stand beside Xania. He smiles friendly at the stranger, "I would say that you are in place where it's best not to be alone. You've stumbled upon some burial mounds where the residents are not content to lie still."
He moves towards the stranger, "My name is Dakath, and since we're all in danger here you're welcome among us."
Xania nods, clearly more at ease with Ullar and Dakath nearby. "I am Xania," she adds.
"Hello. This is Italy. Where are you from?" Rhune replies to the stranger's question. "I am Rhune Morthaine, who are you?" she adds as she watches the stranger intently.
Kyo eyes the Elf warily before looking to Ullar. "Why you travel with Demon? You make her slave with strong magics?"
"Demon?" Forte asks, confused. He turns to Rhune to see how she reacts to the insult.
"I am no Demon. I am an elf and I am no one's slave thank you," Rhune replies to the man stepping back over to Asif.
"Demon?" Ullar asks, looking around and feeling on his head if a demon is settled there. He is quite alarmed about it, but then realizes the stranger is talking about Rhune.
"I see no demon here. I see an elf, otherwise known as a pointy-eared, tree-hugging faggot, but Rhune is female, so this doesn't count for her," says Ullar, while giving Rhune a big wink.
"Why do you call elves Demons?"
Rhune noticing Ullar's wink spares him the withering glare she was going to give him at the description of her people and instead winks and then turns and crosses back over to Asif.
Kyo looked puzzled for a moment, while he made sense of Ullar's words. "She demon, like the ones at the lake that tried to steal my soul. Everybody know that the pointy eared ones are demons." A sudden thought dawned on the barbarian. "Maybe Demon steal your soul," his eyes narrow as if he was trying to peer through the man's skin and detect his soul.
"Where was this lake? Near here?" asks Forte.
"Many hours walk from here," he gestures vaguely in the direction he came. "I see there camp fire and I went to get warm. Then one demon started singing magic and tried to steal my soul. I fought with them a long time before I managed to escape. I may have killed one, but I am not sure. I fought them and their foul devil magic for a long time but finally got away. Why you want to go kill demons?"
"Uh.....so they don't steal any more souls?" responds Forte sarcastically. Turning to Dakath, he adds with a gleam in his eye, "Besides, it'll give us a chance to use that mace again!"
"What is it that we can do for you?" Ullar returns the question, in his plain Latin.
Forte hangs back a few feet behind Ullar, watching intently.
The stranger shrugs his shoulders. "I lost, nasty priest on caravan wanted to..." he begins to babble in his native tongue looking for the right words before he made a fist with is right hand and began pushing his right index finger into the opening. "So I leave."
Rhune just watches the gesture not truly understanding what it means due both to age and inexperience and her race.
Forte laughs a little at the gesture, then looks over at Augustus for a reaction. He then turns his head back to the stranger to see if he noticed the priest traveling with them.
"Talk about losing your religion," Xania murmurs.
Forte shakes with more laughter, but tries hard to suppress any sound by burying his face in his hands. He finally looks up at Xania, grinning at her while he shakes his head in mock disapproval.
Xania merely blinks innocently in Forte's direction and mouths, "ouch."
At this, Ullar can't do anything else than laugh. "A nasty priest wanted to do you?" he says, making the same hand- movements as the stranger did.
"Then I would leave as well!"
Listening to Ullar's words and his gesture sudden realization of what the gesture means comes to Rhune. Blushing profusely she looks sideways to Asif and every where else except at the two men.
Tag steps in a non-threatening way toward the stranger. "You are of the horse barbarians are you not. The Huns, Si. You are a long way from home. Never the less we have many unfamiliar cultures in our group. You are welcome to our fire and food," Tag offers the barbarian a drink from his dwindling wine bottle. "You are used to fermented horse milk, Si? But this will warm your belly well enough."
"As Taglio said, you are welcome to our fire and food. Please walk with us. My name," says Ullar, while pointing to his chest, "...is Ullar. Ullar Capachio."
The outlander looked over his shoulder at the word "Hun," as if he expected to see the Horsemen riding down on him. "Me no Hun... Me Kyo Kha of the," he again babble in his native tongue. "Lowlander in your talk." He takes the bottle from Tag and drinks deeply. "May you be blessed with many sons for your kindness."
Tag takes back the bottle and stores it safely. "Welcome Kyo Kha," he stumbles over the unfamiliar syllables. "I am Taglio Di Gondola, a gondolier and traveling troubadour from the fair city of Venezia. Some of us are here to root out evil from the church and to champion the cause of good so that our souls will rest in the bosom of the lord when we depart this mortal coil. Others are here for earthly rewards. What motivates you to be so far from home?."
Kyo stares blankly at Tag for over a minute. He understood Taglio was the man's name, he was from a city with that ugly "VA," sound he had not quite mastered and they were disturbing the dead. And, he thought, why he was here in this dangerous country. "I go on Warrior's test. When I got home...home gone. All dead, the Huns burn all. I wander for long time and find a caravan going away. I go with them. Now I here." He smiles broadly with satisfaction of having gotten all of that out. "Me help with dead things. Kyo strong and good warrior." He leans in close to Tag and whispers, "Keep an eye on demon too. She fool you, but not Kyo."
Tag laughs out loud and slaps the barbarian warrior on the back. "Ha, Ha, Keep your friends close and your enemies closer right! You have a good heart Keeyo," Tag mangles the barbarian syllables into a manageable form in good Italian. "Your spear arm is certainly welcome, come lets kill some dead ones, or dead some killed ones if you prefer!"
Dakath goes to un-sheath his dagger only to realize, for the second time, that he gave it back to Xania. He turns to see that she already has it drawn. He shrugs. 'Perhaps it'll keep her safe,' he thinks to himself.
He decides to unsheathe his other dagger.
At the newcomer's comments he can't help but smile, having overheard the conversation (a thing Dakath excels at). "Well my friend, Rhune has already bewitched Asif, perhaps someone should keep an eye on her, although being of elven descent hardly qualifies her solely for the ability to bewitch men," he says sparing a glance in Xania's direction.
Xania doesn't notice Dakath's look.