The Common Ground is on Fire

The information regarding the Dragon Hunt is clear: They are not the only group out looking for dragons. A map is provided with the last sightings. To be paid they must first slay the dragon and draw a magical rune on what is left on its corpse. The expectations of a bunch of people crazy enough to hunt dragons is very low, as a rune carved rock comes with the dragon hunting 'kit' to use to tag the dead dragon. There is mention that there may be more than one dragon and it could be high in the tree canopy, on the ground, or below it. The reward? Money. Fame. The first night at camp with the traveling party has Ford stepping away from the fire and announcing, "I'll take watch." Which watch? All of them. He doesn't sleep. Its something that Alexa and Syn have become accustomed to, but not Clemens. "Until when?" Unblinking, as Ford lacks the ability to blink, Ford replies, "Until dawn."
Night settles in the sky and the party takes their spots around the campfire. Syn finds comfort at the base of a nearby tree, leaning her great club Wræth next to her and watching the others with deep red eyes. The wilderness is extremely dangerous, but as of late, cities are too. The events from earlier plague her mind. We are on a mission from him. From him of all people. I cannot think of a worse outcome. Fucking hells. She thinks to herself with a frustrated sigh and kick of a rock by her foot. Her eyes move to the warforged stepping away and announcing his watch over the camp for the night. “Metal man here doesn’t sleep. You get use to it.” She says brashly in the direction of Clemens before folding her arms across her chest and leaning back against the tree trunk.
Alexa spends this down time investigating what is in the 'kit' provided to them. Taking a quick moment she sketches the rune that they are supposed to place on the dragon when no one is watching. 'I need to research this later, something is definitely not right.' she thinks to herself. Ford states that he'll be taking all watches, this is a typical statement from him. Alexa walks closer to Syn and leans on the same tree. Looking straight forward into the deep darkness of the woods they are now stuck in Alexa states, "I'm so sorry that we are in this situation. I failed you, and I can't begin to imagine how you feel." She says this into the darkness, but Syn is the only one close enough to hear.
Astroix looks at Ford with curiosity and then nods his head Reminds me a bit of home , I had family and friends who didn’t need to sleep. Astroix gets up and walks by the tree and sits at the base on the opposite side to the two woman in the night Listen I know we’ve just met and today was.. really hard. It was frustrating , I’m way out of my element here. I felt like a rabbit in a wolves den. I was powerless. Astroix tenses up not knowing if his words have any gravity I have so much to lose here. And time is running out. Astroix pushes his legs together and puts his head down and gets lost in thought I’m sorry I couldn’t help you two more. Astroix’s voice muffles what would she think...
"People are dying," Clemens offers, reminding of why he is here. Why others are here. "It takes courage to walk into danger, be it dragon or merchant, but we did," the young man says, camp fire warming his complexion. "We will again. People are counting on us," he says, far more convinced than when he was at the bargaining table.
Ozy has a similar approach to Syn's. He is propped up against a tree with his maul sitting in his lap. "If you want to kill him," the tiefling offers callously, "then fucking kill him. Plenty have tried though." An obnoxious grin, "Tried."
Be'lania shoots a glance to Ozy, wondering if her music is going to become a commonplace in the adventure to help deescalate tensions.
Astroix feels more assured of himself as he hears Clemens words. And slowly gets up Thanks Clemens your words reminded me of why I’m doing all this. Astroix tosses a pebble playfully at Ozy You make it sound like you were one of those very people . Astroix walks closer to the campfire and puts his foot on a log next to the fire and pulls out his violin, Astroix plays a melo tune as the moonlight shines over the campfire for a brief moment.
Whispering so only Alexa could hear, "Tsk. You didn't fail me, I failed Solus. That's the reason why I'm here and the reason why I have to see him dead." She rolls her head back to look up to Alexa. "But he still breathes today, so you get your way." Her head rolls forward again, looking out past the campfire and into the dark woods. Her words ring cold to her friend, she battles something internally and that line she continues to teeter on shifts. Maybe there was progress, but it seemed to have faded slightly since earlier today. "Something doesn't feel right about this, but I think you already know that."
As she finishes her sentence, Astroix takes a seat near by, she listens and shuffles her feet some in the dirt. "Welcome to bargaining with Jacob Whyte. Frustrating is an understatement. Impossible is a better word." Her tone is still brash and clearly annoyed. It is solidified by the comments of Ozy across the way. "You pathetic thing." She says casually, keeping her head against the tree to look up at the leaves shifting by the winds, the Aurora dancing between them. "Please shut the fuck up."
Alexa slowly lowers down so she's sitting on the ground. "The situation we're in is not what I would consider my way." She looks to Ford "I just hope that we can help Ford in time." She pauses, gathering her thoughts and messages Syn's head "Be careful what we say while we're in new company. Jacob appeared to think I have no power, which leads me to believe someone here is more than they appear." She pulls out her book and appears to just be studying notes. Suddenly Nuru leaves her shoulder and flies away into the darkness, seeming to follow an order unknown to the rest of the party.
Ford is standing off in the distance. The campfire licks against the metallic reflection of his warm copper frame and cold steel reinforcement. If he is suffering in any way, it doesn't show.
Be'lania, a talented songstress, begins to sing an accompaniment alongside the violin in La la La La las. Her music has this sad, yet somehow inspiring, quality to it. Like blue wrapped in glitter and gold.
Clemens nods back to Astroix and taps his hand along to the song. He is clumsy and offbeat most of the time, but he digs it.
Meanwhile, Ozy marches to the beat of another tune, "Because I have. Its practically a birthday ritual. The fucker is always three steps ahead of everyone except for the brat. You guys didn't have a chance." He leans his head back, the pebble playfully knocking against his shoulder. Those eyes of burning embers remained leveled on Syn, wind rustling his short black hair, "Or what? You'll bore me to death with your empty threats? I could use a good lullaby, first I'd be getting sung to sleep BY a crying baby, though."
Astroix’s eyes turn to Ozy as he shoots him a glare Settle down Ozy the snake who shows his fangs to often may find them dull over time. Your tongue is probably why he’s always several steps ahead of you. We’ll be traveling together we should all get along. Astroix pauses and places his violin down for a second You know us not working together is what he wants. He didn’t lift much of a finger and chaos ensued. Astroix tenses up it’s like the games the green dragons used to play on my people... deceivers... Astroix grips the Violin again and plays another tune There has to be something we all have in common.
Red eyes blink when the voice of Alexa speaks within her mind. Message. Noted. This works well, if you need to tell me anything else just use your spell. Syn replies to Alexa's message. Astroix tries to calm the tension brewing between the campfire, but hes not a Tiefling, he doesnt understand and nobody here would except the two bickering with each other. The music keeps playing and while it was nice to have in the background, the voice of probably the most obnoxious tiefling to walk arhor'ha ruins it. "Come over here and say that to my fucking face and when I choke out the very words you sputter, you can run back to your daddy crying." She sneers. She doesn't play kindly, you spend enough time in Avernus you become immune to the verbal torment of other unfortunate souls withering in the hells.
"Big bark from a Candles' little bitch," Ozy says as the campfire light plays off of his muddy reddish skin. His knuckles crack from a squeeze and a release. It is an interesting choice for the observant, like Alexa. He isn't gripping his weapon. Is he enjoying this? "Do you need permission from your Master over there to do it yourself? Or are you so feeble that you need me to walk over to you because you have a problem with what I'm saying?" There is a big, toothy grin on his face, "Need me to lean forward so you can grab my neck, too? Or does that also require verbal permission?" A tiefling fight amongst such nice, soothing music.
Then it hits. Even Jacob, the vile and disguising man that he is, asked Ozy if he wanted to join. Not ordered him to. It may be a false sense of autonomy, but it was there on the surface. Enough for Ozy to feel like his choice mattered and that he made it. It was something Syn and Solus never got.
Syn rolls her head forward, locking eyes with the tiefling on the other side of the campfire. There is a momentary pause before she lets out a short chuckle. She stands up, pushing off the base of the tree and taking a few steps forward to stand by the fire, the orange glow lighting up her face as she looks down to Ozy. “I couldn’t care less about the fucking Candles.” She says behind flickering embers that rise up past her face and into the night sky. “Nor do I require permission from anyone to beat your fucking face in.” The corner of her mouth curls to a sadistic grin. “It’s absolutely adorable though, this whole happy family bullshit he’s got you looped into. “Dad, dad give me attention. Dad, dad, DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD use me because I am a fucking idiot and can’t grasp reality.”
Ozy maintains this shit eating grin on his face that makes the campfire lights dance on him like an entity of Avernal Chaos. He stands up as if to say 'finally'. Its the constant jabs of 'Dad' that erode the flow, but not from him.
Near the campfire, Clemens has been keeping out of the dispute by organizing a series of bottles and salves from a satchel he carries. He is attempting to keep to the tune of Astroix's song, but the shrill notes of 'Dad' are like a slasher's knife across his eardrums. He tries to act like nothing is wrong. He does not speak up. The little things give you away.
There is a deafening silence for a moment as Ozy starts in with a retort in this verbal spar. Instead, it is Be'lania who speaks. "My father was a diplomat, a sailor, and an adventurer," she says. Her voice is like a rays of light against the smoke of a burning orchestra. The young half-elf looks to Astroix, who suggested looking for common ground, "he spent his time along the eastern coasts bringing Avanis, Elf, Human, and Tieflings together. We would always see him on my birthday and he would always have a present for me. Those are some of the happiest memories of my life," she says unashamed of it. She looks to Clemens to continue the topic on. "My father," Clemens says as he puts away a vial of yellow liquid and a tightly packed bundle of cinnamon, "spent a lot of time with nature. He taught me that plants require time and love. They don't change fast, but over time they do change. We just live our lives so fast that sometimes we don't notice the changes. But he had this profound respect for life. All life. My favorite moments were when we could go fishing off of the pier. Side by side with the same people that till the field. Whatever we didn't eat was fertilizer."
"He sounds like a good man," Be'lania says, but that statement only gives Clemens cold comfort.
Captios lies awake, away from the rest of the group, listening to the argument unfold. Dad. The word only brings him loneliness. He had been trying to fall asleep, but between the cold ground, the fight unfolding, and the thoughts racing through his mind, he is unable to find get any rest. He turns to see Ford standing guard. Warforged don't sleep. He read that in a book somewhere. I guess I might as well do my job if I can't sleep.
Getting up Captios meanders over to where Ford stands, coughing so as not to catch the giant automaton off guard. "Excuse me Ford, do you mind if I sit with you for a while?" he says to the giant machine in front of him. "You don't seem to be bothered by all the viciousness of that conversation. Does this happen often?"
Ford is, in a word, huge. If a Goliath decided to layer on plates of metal he might adopt a similar look. His chest does not expand and contract to breathe, but air flows through valves and hisses out hot air when one gets close. Curiously his head has a four-point set of antlers on it. Irony? Hard to say.
"You mean Syn and Ozy's pissing match?" the warforged asks, voice monotone and sharp with electricity. "Yes. Its common in Freeport and tiefling culture to fight with each other. Much like academics like to theorize and debate some obscure fact like the migration pattern of a sloth." There is a pause as his head turns behind him to see the two are still at it, albeit with an attempt to divert from the songstress. His head turns back around to look to Captios, "Equally rude not to engage. They just need to beat the shit out of each other a few... dozen... times. Its usually not fatal." Pause. "Usually."
Captios shivers at the response. He knows warforged are direct but Ford's response is so... unfeeling. "I've read this is common, I just didn't really understand it. Books don't do tiefling behaviors justice. The three of you together... I don't know, it's seems so random. How does that even happen in the first place? A Candle, a warforged, and a tiefling all journeying together."
Astroix pauses for a moment capturing peoples voices as he plays his tune. Father he thinks to himself, well i never had one. My father was a traveler, he was the most handsome man that ever lived and the strongest, ... is what my mother Lela would tell you but sadly I've never met him myself. Astroix chuckles hiding away some pain in the comment "My mother non the less did the best she could and the community i was a part of helped raise me become the man i am today. Whether it's mothers, fathers , older sisters we all find our family sooner or later. Mind you they may not always be of blood but those bonds built through experience and time often times keep us tied together. Astroix with head held up high says this with confidence. He then pauses and then looks at Alexa, Syn and then Ford That is what you three have is it not? Alexa you remind me a lot of my sister in her later years perhaps you are the knot that keeps things together? Astroix sits down and lays back taking in the campfire and peoples stories to heart "I know we've only just met everyone , and you probably have no real reason to trust me but i want you to know that i will watch you all like one of my own.My life will be your shield and if that falters well. Head tilts to Ford with a smile "We have a good plan B for that don't we big guy"
"Books generally cast tiefling culture as evil, bloodthirsty devils that won't seem to get off the same rock the civilized people are on," Ford explains in a monotone voice. "Where most people will stab you in the back, a tiefling or Freeportian will gladly stab you in the front, repeatedly, and if you survive it they will buy you first round for being annoyingly resilient. With your money. That they took from you. During the stabbing."
There is a bzzztpop from inside Ford's chassis. "Its about as random as the estate scribe traveling with a Candle, a Warforged, and a Tiefling. Plus a tribal elf, a singer, another tiefling, and..." he spins his head around to look at Clemens again, "an alchemist with a plant fetish." Spin. "If you want to hear my life story, like what my favorite 'Dad' story is, you'll have to lead with yours." A pause. "I'm shy, you see. Common warforge behavior." He isnt and it isnt.
As for Astroix, Ford does his best impression of a warforge winking. That is to say, he stares blankly at Astroix. No eyelids.
Captios pauses for a second. They taught us never to reveal too much about ourselves. In the wrong situation, it can make one vulnerable. "I don't have any good stories about my father. I never actually knew him. My mom worked alone to raise me and spent everything she had on my education so that I could have a better life than her." Captios knows this is a test, but he needs Ford to trust him. "From what my mother tells me, my father was just some person she met one night. She doesn't speak much about him." He now looks up at Ford. "That's my story, what about you? How were you created?"
The soft voice of the songstress cuts through the stand off between the two tieflings, the sudden out pour about fathers from the others around the fire causes Syn to lower her shoulders slightly, turning to look at Be'lania as she speaks, then to Clemens, Astroix, Alexa, then settles on the warforged and Captios conversing in their own world off a little ways out from the fire.
For a moment she is relatively distracted by their stories than of the other abrasive tiefling across from her. Her red eyes fixate on each one as they speak of their memories and as their stories end, blood red eyes shift to lock eyes to Ozy. “No trip down memory lane from you? No sweet sentimental rant about your ‘father?’” She asks, making small air quotes when she says the word father.
"Which time," Ford asks Captios with a mechanical 'Hah Hah Hah' laughter that intones like a lightswitch going up and down. "My first creation dates back over a hundred years," the warforge begins, the night aurora flicking over his chassis of metal while the light of a campfire brushes warm hues against his back. "How? Beyond my ability to understand that one. You'd have to ask the great Builder that put me together. I'd imagine it involved advanced magic to create life in this body of metal. Still an infinite improvement over the sloshy meatbags you were born into." He taps his thigh, making a metal clang, "How about I tell you about the 'father of the family' I was born into, James, instead?"
Speaking of fathers, Ozy seems all too happy to watch Syn as she shifts to the storytellers. Good, heartwarming tales of good father, "My father was an asshole," the tiefling turns the page on the paternal love chapter of the campfire tales. "Still is, as far as I can tell. He is influential, wealthy, has more relics than even he recalls, and because you clearly have the hots for him, I'll humor your schoolgirl fantasy with a story." That is wrong on so many levels, but Ozy keeps trucking along, "When I was about as old as the brat, dear ole dad threw me a birthday party. For my present he told me I was going to be sold to Avernus." The short horned devil of a teenage rage machine sniffs, rubbing his hand over his nose to itch it more akin to doing a line of a powdery narcotic. "So I grabbed the cake cutting knife and stabbed the fucker," Ozy says, "told him that if I was going to hell, he could get my room ready for me." He tilts back a head and laugh, "Got him clean in the arm, he bled all over the damn place. Hah hah hah."
Alexa stays by the tree, choosing not to engage in all this feelings talk about father's. She never knew any of her parents, and the closest thing to a parent she had was an old woman who only did the bare minimum to meet the requirements of raising her. Instead she chooses to listen, she finds that given enough time people will expose enough about themselves with little pressure. She stores everyone's answers away, but Clemens response strikes her. No stranger to his lineage, she's surprised by the company he's been able to keep. Friends for him must be tough, and she does not want to be the person to break that. She walks over to Clemens and sits down near him. "Syn sometimes is brash and does not realize how her words meant for one person can hurt those around her." Her eyes glance over to him. "Unfortunately in this state she is uncontrollable, and Ozy isn't helping. The best option might be to just keep a safe distance." She observes everyone in their camp and her glance lands on Astroix. "You both claim there is an illness and that Jacob Whyte may have access to elements of the cure. What exactly is needed? And if I may be so bold in asking, may there be a way around needed him? He doesn't exactly play fair."
The fire crackles, wood shifting and settling over its burned brethren that lay as smoldering embers beneath the deep oranges. Syn’s red eyes move back to Ozy as he starts to speak. A slight grinding of teeth as he goes on to praise the shitty man who’s ruined many lives. Her grinding teeth press harder against her molars the more he talks, the more jabs and insults that spatter from his mouth. “What a heart warming story.” She utters the words with such a rage building behind them. A ticking time bomb seconds from exploding. “Have you ever been to Avernus, Ozy?” She takes a step towards the other Tiefling. “The stink of brimstone so strong it could make your eyes water.” Another step. “The dirt beneath your very feet scolding hot and barren. War waging endlessly, surrounded by devils and other creatures you only find in your nightmares.” Another step. “Your strength on this plane means nothing when faced with what lies in the hells. The reality that you are on the bottom of the food chain.” Her lips curl to a sadistic grin. “You think you are something here, but you are but a mockery in Avernus.” One last step and she leans right in his face. “So, take your fucking cake knife and shove it. You wouldn’t last a fucking day in the nine hells.”
"Tenth," Ozy says with a grin on his face, "birthday." When people invade your bubble there are common responses. Some recoil back. Some shift their eyes. Others lock on, predatorially. Challenging. "You think you are special? We all go there in the end," he says, leaning back. She won? No. CRACK! The tiefling headbutts the surprisingly similar heighted other tiefling. "And while you were admiring the landscape," he says, eyes alight with the thrill of the fight, "I was starting on my summer home with the bones of my enemies." He looks not to Syn, which is a mistake he is probably going to may for, to look to Alexa. The young devil takes a long tooth from his belt, tossing it over, "Proof, since your girlfriend here is the stupid one. You are clearly the smart one."
Alexa grabs the tooth as it's thrown to her, analyzing it's origin but also deciding not to aggravate the male tiefling further. "Not my girlfriend, but thanks for this."
"On a break? Makes sense, she looks like one that is hard to love with all these daddy issues," Ozy replies. The tooth is that of a hellhound. Its older, not something that was taken recently.
His head cracks against Syn’s forehead causing her to stumble backwards slightly, catching her footing on the back of her heel. Her forehead throbs but refrains from placing a hand on the area. A blink, another blink, and she catches his gaze shift to her friend Alexa, a tooth tossed across the campfire in her direction.
Syn shifts her feet, curling her fist and driving it into the side of his face. “Over here asshole.” She says shaking her hand slightly. “Your words fall on deaf ears. I don’t need nor want family. But BOY do you seem to crave that life. Its almost cute.” She tilts her head to the side, mocking him with her tone of voice. "Almost." A grin forming once more at the corner of her mouth and adrenaline flowing through her veins, a hand rises up and taps her forehead, bring her hand down to look at her own palm. “What? You couldn’t even draw blood from that? HA.” The grin grows.
Noting the authenticity plus his apparent age, things seem to line up. This unfortunately only makes situations appear worse. Alexa begins to string together that what Syn thought as Jacob abandoning Syn in Avernus may not wholly be true. Something far more sinister is clearly in his plans, and Syn is far less safe than she assumed. Alexa works on not letting this revelation show on her face, instead replies shortly, "A hellhound tooth, impressive."
The coalfire eyes of the teenager rebel without cause or common sense slides from Alexa over to Syn. It settles as he. Does he? Yes, the fucker grins. "Keep telling yourself that," Ozy says regarding her lack of familial needs. "Shhh," he holds a hand out to Syn, "adults are talking." In no race is Ozy considered an 'adult'. "Keen eyes. I ripped it out with my bare hands as a trophy," he states, proudly, "so when you are done with this second rate ex-girlfriend of yours, we can talk about a partnership of our own."
Noting his usefulness, especially with gathering information about Jacob, Alexa simply responds with a charismatic half smile, "maybe we can, but for now we just have to make sure we survive the dragons. With you and Syn here, I have no doubt we will succeed." All notes of mocking or sucking up are out of her voice. To those unobservant it appears as if her words are genuine.
She reaches out to grab his wrist, digging nails in with shaking rage. “I swear to god, at the end of this, I hope to see your life cut short.” Her hand grips his wrist tighter like she is about to snap, eyes travel across the campfire at all the others, and then let’s go. “Or that look on your pathetic fucking face when I find Jacob’s weakness and end his life.” She takes a step back, turning around to walk away. “For good.”
"Get in line," Ozy says, his wrist marked with scratches and surface blood that dot his sunset skin like a bracelet of thorns, "behind the smarter and stronger who have been at it for longer." Ozy stops. Poetry? Yes. That was quite nice, he thinks to himself. A grin to Alexa comes next, now that he is feeling particularly suave. Not Dante suave. Approximately drunken Clyde levels of suave, "And since you already have two accomplished dragon hunters with you, getting through this will be as easy as Syn's mother on a weekend."
"Oh that's right, you and Astroix just came back from what I assume was a successful dragon hunt. I've never gone after a dragon myself, but I'm sure it's a great story." She focuses on pulling Ozy away from Syn, seeing as it seems their conversation had just resulted in childish insults.
Thud. Her chest beats. Thud. Again. Thud. The anger from his words seep so deeply into her chest she is fuming and equally confused. She tried to let it go, tried to be the person that Alexa wants to believe she can be, but there is a limit break, and it has been reached.
“NO.” Her eyes glance to Alexa. “I’ve put up with your way for far too long.”
She spins around with a heated rage, teeth sneering at the obnoxious tiefling. Her arms come up locking to his shoulders and pushing him straight into the tree behind him with a brutal force. The trunk cracks slightly. “No one here gets to speak of my mother but me.” She screams into his face. “You don’t know me, you don’t know my strength, and you don’t know my course of actions.” Red eyes are burning with rage.
Although the small frame Ozy wields doesn't seem like much, it impacts a tree like a rhino hit it. Every bone in his back cracks with the force. Those broad shoulders recoil against it with the force of the blow as the kinetic daze clears from his eyes. "I know you are a shitty liar," the tiefling growls, "of all the things it took for you to lay hands on me and it was your mother? While in the same air we breathe now you uttered just how little you care of family." He rolls his shoulders, cracking them loose when his frame leans back into its feet. "And you call me pathetic," he scoffs, "you don't even know where the soul of your strength comes from." Eyes burn red against hers, a quartet of suns in competition for intensity, "Its not our birth," he lays a low punch to Syn's gut, "that binds our fate." Those words echo and ring before the sound of a bell shooting out from Ozy's left hook, "Its our hearts," the young tiefling says, brusquely gripping Syn's cloths, "and they are," he anchors himself back, "strong." Fwoosh, he throws her across the campsite in a good old fashion campfire brawl. In the wilderness, at night.
Syn’s red eyes widen as he starts to speak the creed of the Thatcher family. Its greeted with a heavy punch to her stomach, then another, before she’s grabbed by her clothes and tossed across the campsite. She slides across the dirt and takes a moment before standing. “Don’t get things twisted. I don’t like her, but my spiteful words are placed for a reason, not just some shit thrown to compensate.” She stands from the ground. “And tell me, where does your soul of strength come from then? From that creed you utter? Do you even know where that comes from?”
Captios stands in awe of the raw power of the two tieflings in front of him. I can only imagine having that raw power. What I would have done to all those that fucked with me growing up. No, violence should not beget violence. He looks up at Ford. "Do you know what creed they are talking about?"
Ford assumes that talking about James is not the alternative his academic companion is looking for. "Intimately," is all the big guy says as the two tieflings create a great deal of noise and sparks between them. Practically lightening between their eyes at this point.
Ozy lets loose a brief laugh, "Ha! Don't get things twisted." He leans back against the cracked tree. It has a nice 'Ozy' groove in it now where he was slammed against it. "When haven't they been. Your lips betray your eyes. Your eyes betray your fists. Do you even know who you are?"
Alexa watches the two tieflings tussle, there's definitely no slowing it down now. She seems Captios and Ford sitting together and decides now is a better time than ever to get some information. She walks over to Captios and sits down next to him. "So, Captios, do you have any family nearby? With a dangerous quest like this I'm sure you'd want to alert them." She looks at him with a pleasant expression, taking her time to read his reactions and response.
Astroix's patience is wearing thin as Ozy and Syn argue. However his attention shifts to Alexa "Yes we need several items Clemens has said Dragon Blood, Devils Blood and Water from the top of a mountain top. As far as Jacob goes, he is a Lion playing a game much grander then us. My main priority will be to obtain the ingredients. It pains me to have to work with such a beast but the world has left me little to no choice. Astroix say's this while gritting his teeth, he does not want to work with Jacob but the world has pushed him into a corner "This childish conflict is exactly what Jacob wants, a Riled up hornets nest. While we're fighting each other it'll be easy pickings for him to get whatever it is he wants." Astroix say's this while raising his voice to ensure everyone at the camp can hear him "I ask this once do you wish to be a pawn in another mans game? Think about it. For now we should all get some rest for the days ahead"
She brushes the dirt off her clothing. Pat, pat. “Does it matter?” She says as the rage falls to a simmer. “It doesn’t change the past.” She returns to her place at the base of the tree with wraeth leaning menacingly against it. She lets out a heavy sigh, almost frustrated to ask him anything, but the words he spoke echoes in her head. “He did the same to me you know.” She looks across the fire to the Tiefling. “Though, it wasn’t a threat, I was actually sold into Avernus. I’m curious why he hasn’t done the same for you.”