idea of going out of his way to rescue others. "We ain't doing this cause it's 'right.' But if they're willing to help, then we'll go save them." The rat's sharp look indicated his lack of charity, aiming to be pragmatic and hopeful that these other adventurers won't continue their own way.

It doesn't take an acute listener to notice he never brought up Tartuccio at all, remembering the rather sour attitude that one had way back.

Zrak prepares to leave the room, waving to Malkala in the meantime. "I'm going to see who else is around. Be back around supper and we'll see if anyone wants to come along." The ratfolk leaves the house, looking around the fort and seeing who of note, whether he recognizes them or not, are still around the outpost for today.

While the new guards make the post seem busier than the last time Zrak was there, not many people are around. As he walked around, he found Oleg making repairs to the stables, his hammer steadily ringing across the post. Tristian sits next to another priestly looking man. The human man is much older, possibly in his early fifties or sixties, with a bald head and steady eyes.

Octavia and Regongar are nowhere to be found just by walking around but the guards say they have not left the post. Now calm, Amiri is taking her massive weapon to a training dummy which is somehow still standing dispite the weapon and the strength of the woman wielding it. Linzi has made her way to the outside tables and is writing in her journal.

Malkala is talking to one of the guards. Based on his armor and demeanor, he is most likely the commander of the guards at the Post.

The strangely empty fort leaves Zrak in an awkward moment. He expected a few more adventurers or people he recognized. And yet at the same time, there weren't many beyond those he'd already seen. Even Octavia and Regongar seemed to be absent, wherever those two were.

He doubt those two will want to be found, and thus Zrak decides not to seek them out at this time.

Curiosity gets the better of Zrak, his ratty eyes giving a brief, nostalgic look, as he walks over to Linzi. "Recording today's events?" He asked, curious of the habit.

Linzi flinches at Zrak's sudden appearance. When she sees who it is, her shoulders visibly relax and she nods, "Yes." A small smile appears, "Honestly, I never wanted to come to the Stolen Lands to rule. I signed up to find the most worthy ruler and write their story."

She flips through the journal, which is about a quarter full of text that seems to randomly change from novel to notes to the scrawls of a distracted lunatic. Skimming through what she shows, Zrak can see himself and Malkala mentioned a fair amount.

"It is one thing to rule and have the kingdom's origin spread by word of mouth. But I feel that having it written down makes it permanent. Makes it real. Unchangeable."

"So you're more of a historian?" Zrak raises a quizzical brow to Linzi. Her attitude is a confusing one; though Zrak cared for his family's safety he'd take power if it came to him, preferably with no strings attached. To adventure purely for the sake of another, in service to another, one which they don't even know, sounds like a fool's errand.

Perhaps there was some power to words in history books. But mortals live fleeting lives, and Zrak has too much of concern to worry about leaving some sort of legacy... Not yet, anyway.

"Then don't lose it," he warns, calmly, skittering his teeth with each other while looking at the book. "But remember your life comes first. I doubt a lot care about writing as much as you." Zrak gives a pause, looking at the book again, then at Linzi. "Do you intend to come with us? Or would you rather stay here until our return?" Zrak speaks with an oddly neutral tone, not minding whatever answer she'd give.

Linzi smiles, "You may be surprised. A particular Pitaxian man didn't quite like some of my work."

At the question of joining the group, she pauses, "I will admit, I am not nearly as excited as Amiri is about combat. But I also can't write the rise of the Stolen Lands from the back. If you are willing, I am too."

Zrak manages to find a moment when the conversation pauses, but it takes an awkward amount of time. He quickly gets the feeling that, if given the opportunity, the priest could hold a conversation until the end of time. But the young man does not look upset or offended as he turns to look at Zrak.

"Yes. Traveling is wonderful, but it is also good to spend time in peace and with others." A thought seems to suddenly cross his mind, "Speaking of, I should introduce you to the man that told me about the temple we found."

He waves his hand to the aged man next to him, "This is Jhod Kavken, He is a priest of Erastil who was given a vision of the temple."

Jhod rises and holds out his hand to shake, "Yes. After hearing about Tristian's trip and the fight, I am glad to see all of you safe. Now that I know that the bear has been put to rest, I feel more comfortable. However, if you could, I would appreciate it if you could escort me to the site. Tristian did great work consecrating it, but it can only be done completely by a priest of Erastil. If you would, I'd be glad to provide my priestly services."

He gives a small smile, "I cannot join in combat like Tristian, but I know many clerical spells that can be of benefit, and I'd be happy to provide them for free as long as there are no expensive components involved. But I can still do those spells, I'd just need the components provided."

"Do you need to be taken immediately?" Tristian asks.

The old man shakes his head, "No. With your work, the temple is safe. I personally would like to go sooner than later, but I am patient and not going anywhere."

"And that's good," Zrak notes with a harsh tongue, "Cause we've got people to save, an' I'm sure the lives of 'good' people come before some purity of a ruin." The barbarous ratfolk hadn't a care in his eyes for what the priest and Tristan intended. It's not in total disrespect to the two, but the ratfolk's priorities were more on the material value of things, including lives.

"Tristian, was it?" Zrak continued. "Myself and others are planning a rescue mission. There's a few adventurers I met once that got themselves captured, and we're hoping it doesn't take too long."

He glances over at the other priest before speaking back to Tristian. "You gonna be around when we get back? We oughta be maybe a couple days, tops."

Zrak grumbles after, "Sure hope that damn runaway couple stay here too..."

There is a moment of silence as the two men just stare at Zrak in mild shock. Then Tristian smiles and bows his head slightly, "Of course lives are more important."

He raises his head again, "I don't plan on traveling around on my own any time soon. After that bear, I am taking a break. If you ever wish my company, I will be here."

Zrak holds back a snarky retort and simply nods to Tristian. "Then I'll let you know when I get back." He gives Tristian and the priest a wave before heading off.

The ratfolk takes one more look around the fort, attempting to find Octavia and Regongar, before counting losses and checking in on Amiri. The smaller ratfolk ducks his head and approaches carefully, as to not lose it from a stray swing, before speaking.

"All set for our next adventure?" Zrak leans against a nearby pile of wood while speaking. "We don't want you running off before we head out."

He looks at the training dummy, then back at Amiri. "You REALLY like fighting, don't you?"

As Zrak approaches Amiri, he can get a glimpse of her fighting style when not in the middle of combat. There is massive strength, of course, and not all of it because of the massive sword. But there is also precision. Contrary to first impressions, she is not just wildly swinging her blade, but consciously aiming each strike well.

When she notices his presence, she sinks the greatsword into the ground and turns to face him, "I am ready whenever you are!" At Zrak's comment about fighting, a smile forms, "Yes! It is the best way to show that you are the strongest! And no one can say that I am weak!"

Zrak almost edged a sneer out of his mouth at Amiri's simpleminded attitude about strength; he held off on the simple understanding that he'd rather not argue with the threat of a gigantic blade swung with sheer purpose. "Well it's sure an attitude to have for battle," the smaller ratfolk simply responds, looking over the poor, carved-up training dummy. Good mindset 'til you use, he thought to himself.

The ratfolk takes another look over Amiri's large frame. "Where are you from again? Must have been quite a ways away."

Amiri's grin softens a bit, but her voice does not, "The Realm of the Mammoth Lords! It's far to the north with many different tribes. Good hunting, good monsters to fight, and good climbing. All one needs!"

She holds up her blade, "Got this from an ice giant!"

Zrak cannot tell exactly what it was, but when Amiri mentions the ice giant, something in her stance changes for a brief moment. But then just as quickly it is back to normal.

"An ice giant? You know how BIG those are?" Zrak, despite having never seen an ice giant in his life, assumes that they are as big as the stories claim, wielding weapons which shadowed over entire adventurers. Amiri's blade was impressive, but not the kind an ice giant would wield, or consider a prized possession.

Yet Amiri has the physique and presence that intimidates Zrak. He doesn't show it with his uncaring expression, but the large barbarian sends his heart racing in caution.

"I guess it does prepare you for this," he continues, looking at the encampment and the lands beyond. "This won't find the same foes here that you would've back home... Speaking of which, why'd you come in the first place? You here just for fighting, rather than ruling?"

At Zrak's question, something changes. He cannot quite grasp it behind the woman's bravado, but there is a mood shift downward. Just like a few seconds ago, it is quickly gone, but Zrak can tell this time that the bravado may not be completely sincere as she answers.

"I ain't a scholar. I'll leave that to you and Linzi. But the chance to clear a land of bandits and protect a kingdom sounds amazing!"

She sheathes the greatsword in her hand and grins, "Just point me at what needs killed and I'll take care of it!"

There was... something missing, as if Amiri wasn't telling Zrak something. The tell was clear, even beyond her mood; her motive sounded too simple. One could fight for thousands of easier reasons other than protecting a kingdom. He'd ask why, but she has no reason to answer, and attempting to pry wouldn't go well.

So the ratfolk merely shrugs his cloaked shoulders. "Well sometimes that's all we need to solve a problem. We'll let you know when we're heading out. Just prepare for it," He glances at the poor beaten up training dummy, "And try not to destroy anything before we head out."

He gives her a wave, then sighs and takes a walk, once more unable to find Octavia and Regongar. He shrugs, then decides to prepare for tomorrow.

The desire to rest eludes Zrak, who finds himself still traversing around the trading post in almost absentminded confusion. Various whispers and rumors circle around the place, reminding the ratfolk that there's a world outside of the wild plains he traversed.

A thought occurs as he explores around, finding himself encountering Svetlana in the midst of it. "Sure are a lot of people about now," he comments, noting the armed guards and flags that made the place safe from attacks. "Have you or Oleg heard anything from them? Anything about new people entering the fields beyond? Might be good for me to know before I set out that way."

Zrak catches the young woman in the Post's kitchen, cleaning from a recent meal. But she does not seem to mind the company as she gives him a sincere smile.

"Thanks to the guards and you, we have definitely gotten more attention, though I am not sure how happy Oleg is about it." She finishes the last with a small chuckle, "But I have heard from the hunters that the bandits seem to have gotten stronger and more resourceful since their new leader, the Stag Lord, came around."

Her smile turns into something a bit more serious, "They've also said that he wears animal bones, as if he is trying to become the embodiment of a Lord of Stags. Wonder how sane that makes him?"

The woman's words give Zrak a confused brow. There's always something to be wary about the Stag Lord; but to hear one who wears animal bones for some form of... ascension was a level of madness too far for the ratfolk. He liked the appeal of using bones for intimidation, but to consider anything beyond that is unnecessary inspiration to him.

Still, it gave him an idea of what he's facing, which was to say, nothing good for him.

"Messy guy then," Zrak mutters with a disappointed shake of his head. "We'll all be good to be rid of him eventually." With what the ratfolk has already done, no doubt the Stag Lord will want him as well. "How long's he even been around for? Did he come in like lightning?"