((Deriaz, Rima was the one who spoke. Could you modify your post please? Rima is the human, Kree is the raven. Sorry for any confusion on that front.))

Rima starts laughing, "'Woo woo?' I've been called a lot of things before, but 'Woo Woo' was definitely not one of them. And yes, I slept well enough, thank you."

The raven takes off from her shoulder and inspects the soup. It then looks up at the Dwarf and assumes a rather affronted tone, "Mister, if that was an insult, you're no good at being insulting. If that was not an insult, you aren't good at being un-insulting either. And so what if she is a magic 'woo woo' anyway?" Without a second glance at the dwarf, it dips its beak into the soup and starts eating.

Rima starts nervously, unsure of how the dwarf would take to being insulted by a raven, "Kree, you aren't that 'un-insulting' either." She turned to the dwarf and spoke in an apologetic tone, "I'm sorry, she's not in the best of moods at the moment. A lot has happened to us recently, and it has us both on edge."

Mirae cringes slightly at the Warforged's attention, but she tells herself sternly that at least it seems friendly. She pushes the flopping brunette locks out of her eyes and sits up a little straighter.

"I... think..." she clears her throat and raises her voice to carry to the 'forged. "I think so, thank you..."

Ghalin slips a hand into the shadow running it across the ground feeling for a rock to throw at the smart mouthed bird, but stops at the appologoy of the Human. Instead he just nods in there general direction. "So what will happen now that yer not there to guard your gilry?" He asks the forged hoping to change its mindset. "So now that most o' us er up. Any one know where we are, or why?"

Bulwark heard Ghalin's question, but he disregarded it for a moment. His white crystal eyes stared at Mirae, making a note of the cringe she showed upon receiving attention from him. Perhaps--

The question. Bulwark turned to Ghalin. "What will happen? I cannot answer that question. She went missing from under my watch, nine years ago. I intend to find her. . . I have walked day and night through Khorvaire, trying to find her. I intended to search Xen'drik next. Scrying and the like from wizards revealed that Madam Arria d'Cannith, the girl I'm sworn to protect, cannot be found. This leads them only to conclude she is dead. I refuse to accept that answer. And so I search."

He contemplated the next question, while admiring the talking bird. "I do not know where we are. I was in a church establishment of the Sovereign Host, searching for Arria. The next thing I knew, I escaped my inert state, and found myself here. . ."

The Warforged looked around at the awoken people, and the ones still sleeping. "I can only assume you all do not know each other either?"

"I certainly don't. I hardly know anyone period, let alone those here. As for why we're here. . . . .I don't know about you, but I'm here to find answers. I said a lot of stuff was happening to us. I want to know why. The half-elf said she didn't know, but she knew someone who did. An old man apparently. Then she sent me here. " Rima pauses, then asks slowly, carefully, "Do any of you know anything about a man called 'The Scourged'?"

Ghalin makes a note in his head of about the information the forged just gave out. Who knows what might come to use in the days to come. As he finishes his third bowl, and puts it to the side near the fire.

"Well someone oughtta check er suroundin's. See if ther be anything around us. I can climb a tree and the ranger ther-" he looks at Mirae "-just guessin', might want to scout out below. Someone obviously wants us together, and I wanna know why."


Ghalin looks at the woman. "'The Scourged' ne'er heard o' him. Sounds like some one out o' some old folk tale." He spits.

"'The Scourged'?" Bulwark echoed. "The name is new to me-- But you say you were speaking to a half-elf? What did she look like? If she sent you here, then perhaps we spoke to the same person. . ."

Bulwark leaned forward slightly, seeming rather interested in the group now. It was hard to read what he was thinking, as his face was unable to show emotion. Nor was his voice, still at a loud, rumbling whisper, any help at all. His eyes scanned the other sleeping figures curiously.

He turned his head towards Ghalin. "Scouting the surroundings. . ." He glanced between the two. "If you wish. However, if we were to be killed, and in my case, dismantled, I would have thought they would have done it by now. And judging by the camp laid out, I can understand your suspicions of people wanting us together. But perhaps it is best if we stay as a group, until we learn what we all are capable of. . .?" His eyes glanced over Mirae, and then back to Ghalin. He didn't want to say it bluntly, but Bulwark knew he was much better at defending one thing, or clump of things, than he was if they were separated. Two different entities was something he had never done before.

"Oh, I did not think those who brought us here want us dead." Ghalin said as he stood and turned his back to the forged. "But I do think, we are in the woods. That we may be able to find some town or something near us. And that I think I hear wolves." He drops his pack on the ground and begins to climb up the tree.

A lifeless elf still slumbers. Short and lean with light brown hair and in druids garb with a leather shirt and an empty scabbard. Next to his bed is a belt with all manner of pouches. Dres grumbles in his sleep and wakes up rubbing his head.

"Eh? Who..." he mumbles, then in a moment of clear headedness, "Oh. I knew there was something special about that beauty!" He looks around then blushes for a moment. "Last to rise? Or am I missing a fellow sleep enthusiast?"

He crosses his legs and then rummages through his belt then suddenly pauses. "I seem to be forgetting someone." He says with a wry smiles. He whistles and a weasel leaps out of a robe pocket and begins chewing on his belt. "Oi! Aasel! No!" he exclaims.

Ghalin stops climbing for a moment still only a few feet off the ground, as he hears a whistle. He glances at the camp and sees that another of the campers has risen from their slumber, and begins his slow ascent.

"And another awakens," Bulwark nodded. It seemed to be a good question to start off with, so he asked it to the new awakener: "Did you sleep well?"

Bulwark stared at the weasel that was making a feast of Dres' belt; or at least trying to. Bulwark turned his head to where Ghalin was climbing a tree. "Sir? Another one awakens, if you're looking to find out why we're all here. Perhaps he knows?"

To the Elf, he nodded, along with to the rest of the people in the camp that had woken up that he had not introduced himself to. "I am designation A001-017. Named, Bulwark, if that is easier. . ."

A bump beneath a blanket begins to move as a man stirs in his sleep. Sitting up and stretching the man turns as pale as death when he notices those around the campfire, and that there's even a campfire. Examining each of the figures present he eyes the warforged, then the dwarf and then finally the women present.

"What are you doing in my room?" he finally asks, looking a bit lost for words as this was clearly not his room, but there was no simple reason for why he was here and with others.

The man clears himself of his blanket and stands up, stretching his fingers as he does so. The human stands about six feat tall and is rather slender for his height, bones showing through his skin, though not sickly and malnourished.

He eyes those around him and then smells the food and realizes how hungry he is after sleeping. Grabbing a bowl he moves to pour himself some food before moving back out of the circle to watch those around him. Securing his belongings for good measure, he makes sure to check his back for a large leather-bound book and secures a small pouch to his belt. Realizing that he's already garbed in his black traveling leathers and boots he looks even more puzzled, but waits for the others to make a move as he slowly eats the stew.

Dres grabs the now annoyed weasel around the armpits and lifts him onto his shoulder. "Bulwark, I can manage that. I'm Dres, and this is Aasel." he says as he pokes the weasel. The weasel in turn nips the finger and is rebuked with another poke.

Dres straps his belt on and looks up at the climber. "Tree people eh?"

A smile spread across Ghalin's face as the forged called him sir. Being shown proper respect was not something he was used to, but he could definately grow to like it. "Well see if ee wants any food, and then see if he knows anything." He intentionally shouts loud enough so that who ever could just answer directly. "Both o' them." He modifies his statement as he sees another figure moving toward the food.

((For any who chose to explore your surroundings...

The firelight extends almost to the edge of the trees and stops there. Beyond them is pitch darkness and they make a complete circle around the camp.

Ghalin: You have some difficulty climbing the tree bu it us not impossible. As you make your way slowly up it becomes more and more difficult to see anything other than the faint glow of the firelight. When you get as high up as the branches can support your weight, you still have not seen anything other than more trees and darkness.

All ranger/druids: As you contemplate your surroundings you are struck by the sheer freshness of it all. It almost seems that before you arrived, there had been nothing here but the forest. All manner of creatures call out from the darkness, owls, crickets, wolves in the distance. It feels to you as if you are in the heart of a primeval forest, the first humanoids to have ever been here. Your companions as well seem completely at ease in their surroundings, each of them exuding a sensation of being where they should be, of beloning here.

))