The ride away from the scene of their short battle was considerably more somber than the earlier part of the excursion, and Estella found herself sorely missing the first few days, when Khari's enthusiasm had been palpable, and the conversation had come much more easily. Now, though, her friend looked pensive, withdrawn. She wasn't talking at all, and Estella missed that, too. Khari just didn't look like herself when she was in this kind of mood. Surely, everyone was more than allowed to have their down days, but... there was just something particularly wrong with the idea that she was bereft of her characteristic enthusiasm and verve.
The road was more open now, so there wasn't so much reason for them to ride in any particular formation. Estella had taken over the job of guiding Asala's horse along, and the moved them up a little bit, within polite conversation range of the others. “Um, Khari? Is—are you all right?" It seemed like a lame question, devoid of any particular insight or idea as to what could make things better. If anything could. But it was the only one she knew to ask.
It got Khari's attention at least; she'd been staring somewhat ahead and down for the better part of an hour, now, but she raised her head at the query, glancing sidelong at Estella. “Huh? Oh." Her brows furrowed, distorting her vallaslin slightly. “Uh... I mean, yeah. I'll be fine. It's just... been a while, since I had to think about all that. I don't usually like to dwell on the past." She sighed. “I said this already, but... my family probably thought I was dead. And even if none of the scouts recognized me, Vareth and Elasha definitely did. Which means pretty soon everyone's gonna know."
She tugged uncomfortably at her ear; her mouth pulled to one side in a lopsided grimace. “I'd really rather they didn't. I'm never going back; it's not like I was great for the clan when I was there, either. It's just... better, if they think I died or something."
"Why?" Romulus asked, the first word he'd said in a while. His mood had also obviously worsened since the battle and their encounter, but rather than seem lost mentally for the ride, he'd been hard in thought, trying to figure something out. It took the outbreak of conversation for him to finally speak, though. "Will they come after you? Doesn't seem like they bothered before." He frowned, eyes shifting across the horizon as they rode. He was always watchful, never more so than when it was quiet. "I'm no father, but... I think I would prefer to know if my child was alive." The last part was added very quietly, and for a moment he took his eyes off their surroundings, looking at nothing more specific than his horse's mane.
Asala nodded quietly in agreement.
Zahra said little on the matter. Whether she agreed with Khari, or Romulus, was a mystery. From what little she spoke about her own family, it might've been safe to assume that she, too, thought it best to be wary of whatever wayward kin that lied in the forests behind them. She led her horse astride theirs, and occasionally glanced across the way. Seeking any signs of trouble, if there was at all any. She’d opted to keep her bow nestled in her lap, instead of strapping it to her back.
“I don't know if they did before or not." Khari shrugged. “Either way... if I'm dead to them, then they don't have to think about me anymore. It's hard to explain, but—every elf in the clan is the responsibility of the clan, whether they want that responsibility or not. And for everyone who would have been fine letting me go, there's a few like Vareth who always wanted to convince me that I was making a mistake. That I should go back to being shitty at being Dalish instead of trying to be good at something else. It's not going to work. And it's better if they don't have to waste the effort. This way, they can believe whatever suits them, and no one has to deal with what the reality of the situation is."
She shook her head. “I tried, once. To get them to see things the way I do. I think I... hurt them. By turning my back on everything they see as sacred. Maybe my father would want to know I was alive. But the Keeper? The man who has to preserve all that's left of the past? I betrayed that man. And if he's moved on now, then he should be able to stay that way." She leaned down, rubbing at her horse's neck.
Estella of all people believed she could understand fraught and uncomfortable family circumstances. She'd run away from her homeland as well, though for reasons that amounted to far less than Khari's aspirations. But all the same, even knowing what family were uniquely capable of doing to each other, she had to wonder if that was really all there was to it. “You said Vareth would have tried to convince you? Were you friends?" It seemed like a complicated situation, but Khari wasn't refusing to talk about it, at least. Maybe it would help her if she did.
Khari let out a disbelieving snort. “He'd probably describe it that way, I guess. We sure as hell spent enough time together. He wanted to impress my dad, I think—figured if he could bring me back into the fold, that would do it. Followed me around everywhere when he wasn't getting lessons." She lifted her shoulders. “I could never decide if he was okay, or if I just hated his guts. He let me beat on him with a stick for fencing practice back before I knew the first damn thing about fencing, but... eh." She hesitated for a moment. “He was really good at everything, you know? All the stuff Dalish are supposed to be able to do. The hunting and the magic and even the crafting and looking after the halla. Pissed me right off most of the time."
“Well, I bet he would make a terrible chevalier," Estella said matter-of-factly. Truthfully, she could relate quite a bit, at least to the part where Khari had grown up next to someone who was remarkable and talented and easy to envy. Of course, she'd never been upset that her brother was all those things. She'd just developed a distinct sense of her own inferiority. She really hoped Khari didn't have one of those, but it was hard to say. Sometimes, her confidence was utterly convincing, but at others...
Zahra broke free from her silence with a loud snort. It gave way into an even louder laugh.
Asala barely suppressed a giggle at the sudden joke.
Khari didn't bother, laughing aloud instead. Even after it had faded, a small grin remained. “You're absolutely right, Stel. The whole clan would, in fact. Good thing there's me, then." Her smile softened for a moment; there was genuine appreciation in it. “Anyway, this shit is depressing. Let's talk about something else: I've never known there to be other chevaliers around here. But 'red hair and leading a small group' isn't a lot to go by, since that also describes me right now."
Romulus quietly cleared his throat. "He did say 'tall,' though."
"It is not her fault," Asala added with a teasing pout.
Khari made a face at both of them, sticking out her tongue. “Okay, fine, point taken. But if she's a chevalier, she was probably on a horse anyway, so she would have looked tall even if she wasn't." As counterpoints went, it was rather poor, and she seemed to know it. “But anyway, Stel, since you know a bunch of famous people... any chance you've met any tall red-haired chevalier women?"
Estella chuckled. Actually, she did know someone who met that description. “Well," she said, “it's possible he met Violette Routhier. I obviously don't know every chevalier in Orlais, but I do know she has a command rank, so she'd be leading people. I'm not sure what she'd be doing here though. Maybe something about the increase in bandits recently?"
It seemed they would be finding out soon enough. Cresting yet another hill, their group came upon what looked like a small encampment. It was set up against a small river on one side, but the landscape made it difficult to select a truly fortified position. This particular camp clearly made up for that with the volume of posted guards; no fewer than four men and women on horseback stood guard; the camp itself flew the standard of House Drakon—a silver dragon on dark green.
“Uh... that doesn't mean what I think it means, does it?" Khari's eyes were wide; it was clear what she thought it meant.
Estella was reluctant to burst her bubble, so to speak but it was probably better to do it before they approached the camp. “Sorry," she said, smiling a bit. “With the Civil War going on right now, no one flies the Orlesian flag on its own. Everyone uses either the Valmont one, the de Chalons standard, or the Drakon one, depending on who they side with. Violette is a captain under Grand Duke Guillame."
If Khari was trying to contain her disappointment, she did a pretty terrible job at it, but it passed quickly, at least. Pulling her horse to a stop, she looked back over at Estella, more thoughtfully now. “So, while I could try to explain, if this is really the lady you know, it might be better if you did it. Actually, maybe it's better if it's you anyway. One of the Inquisitors, and all." She shrugged.
Estella nodded. She'd sort of expected that; the fact that the camp flew the Drakon flag definitely narrowed down the possibilities—that faction was by far the smallest. Perhaps it was a bit misleading to even call it a faction, since what they were really focused on was continuing with standard chevalier duties while the rest killed each other over what amounted to a political dispute. She'd certainly inherited her commander's viewpoint on how much sense that made, though she'd have thought the same anyway. “I can do that," she confirmed.
They rode towards the camp deliberately, not near fast enough to look like they were coming in for an attack, but directly enough that their intent to speak with the guards would be clear. This actually would have been easier of she were still in her Lions gear, but perhaps the russet and gold of the Inquisition would be recognizable enough for now.
She eased Nox to a stop a polite distance from the guard. The masked helm made it exceedingly difficult to read him, but his body language at least suggested curiosity rather than anything hostile. They didn't really have the look of highwaymen, she supposed. “Hail, ser," Estella called, pressing her fist to her heart as she'd been taught. “Might we know who camps here?"
"This is the encampment of the first squad of Lord-General Drakon's second flight, captained by Ser Violette Routhier," the chevalier replied, returning the gesture. "What business have you here, strangers?"
“I am Estella Avenarius, of the Inquisition." She still hadn't gotten used to calling herself Inquisitor, and she was never, ever going to refer to herself as the Herald of Andraste. “Formerly of Commander Lucien Drakon's Argent Lions. I know Ser Violette, and we would speak with her, if she would hear us."
That certainly gave the knight pause. He seemed to think that over for a moment, then inclined himself forward on his horse in a more formal bow. "If you would be so kind as to wait a moment, my lady, I will consult with the captain on this matter." He raised a hand, waving over one of the other guards, who assumed his position between them and the camp proper while he left.
A few minutes of silent waiting later, he returned. "The captain will see you, Lady Inquisitor." It would seem Violette at least knew what she was. "If you and your friends would care to dismount, we can care for your horses here. The captain is in the command tent."
There didn't seem to be any reason to protest that; the chevaliers collected the reins of their horses, one of them giving Nox an affectionate pat. The group was allowed to pass into the camp unhindered. It was both small and orderly, not given to the noisy energy of larger military groups. There were perhaps a dozen men in total visible, including the guards, though the number of tents suggested the number must be closer to twenty. There was a small cluster of them closest to the river that were markedly different—older-looking. Khari looked intently at them for a few moments, only moving again when it became obvious she'd be left behind if she didn't.
The command tent was easy to find; it was considerably larger than the rest, built of a sturdy canvas material held up by several poles staked into the ground, tall enough to easily accommodate even Asala's height. The flap was already open, admitting them inside. The most prominent feature therein was the map table; the rest was no more than a cot and a small trunk at the foot of it, both pushed far to the back, and a few chairs around the table.
Standing on the further side of the table were two people. The first was Violette, red hair chopped to just graze her shoulders and armor of an even brighter shade polished to a shine. She glanced up when they entered, offering Estella an unusually strained smile. The second was a man, perhaps six feet in height, with a thick mane of unruly, greying hair and a roughly-trimmed beard only a few shades darker. The lines around his eyes were etched deep into tanned, leathery skin, but his eyes themselves were a lively blue, with the glimmer of a keen mind to them. His armor was considerably older-looking, but just as well-maintained, the red iron dark by comparison to his counterpart's.
His facial expression didn't change much—not until he spotted Khari. "Little Bear?" His accent was relatively thick, compared to most of those Estella had encountered at court. His face, gruff to first appearance, morphed into a bewildered smile, softening the craggy edges.
“Big Bear!" Slipping past Estella, Khari lunged at the man, who caught her seemingly by reflex. There was a muffled clank where their armor collided, but neither seemed to pay it any mind.
"Still don't know your damn manners, I see." He grumbled, but when he set her back down on her feet, he was careful about it. "Introduce your friends, you little heathen."
She scrunched her nose at him, but it didn't dim the force of her smile. “Everyone, this is Ser Jean-Robert Durand. Big Bear, this is everyone. Stel's the one with the prettiest eyes you've ever seen, Asala's the one who looks like she needs a hug all the time, Cap'n Zee's the one who looks like the fun kind of trouble, and Rom... has better tattoos than me." She might have been about to say something else there, but it was hard to tell for sure. “Also I guess two of them are like Inquisitors or something, but that's not the important part."
Ser Durand ran a hand down his face, very obviously rolling his eyes. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Lord and Lady Inquisitor, Captain, Miss Asala." He tapped his fist to his chest as Estella had not long ago.
"I do not need a hug all of the time," Asala murmured with a slight pout, before giving Ser Durand a timid wave.
“Little Bear, huh?” Zahra cooed with an already widening grin, before scratching at her chin with obvious curiosity. She, too, dipped her head in greeting and planted her hands on her hips, eyes roving the interior of the large tent. From the looks of it, she was impressed by their encampment. Her gaze slipped back Ser Durand. "Lovely to meet you, Big Bear. It took us awhile."
Estella sort of thought Asala was undermining her own argument, putting it with that face, but it was only more amusing that way. She considered protesting her own characterization, but decided against it. Khari was clearly in a good mood right now; she didn't want to put even a mild damper on it, considering how she'd been feeling a while ago. It was sort of charming that her spirits could be so lifted so quickly; it meant she wasn't the sort of person to hold onto the negative things in life. Really, most people could learn a great deal form that, herself included.
Estella returned Ser Durand's gesture. “The pleasure's mine," she said, smiling.
Romulus raised his eyebrows a little at the descriptor Khari applied to him, but it seemed as though her shift in mood was infectious, and he found himself smiling as well, though not as broadly as Estella. "It's good to finally meet you. We came a long way."
"So it seems. I'd like to hear more about it, later on. For now, I'm afraid you've caught us in the middle of a strategy session." He glanced over at Violette, his smile fading considerably. "Quite an urgent one, it seems."
"I'm afraid so," Violette said, sighing slightly. "My sister Liliane's squad was sent to the area a fortnight ago, to help quell the bandits encroaching on the region. None of them have been heard from since." She grimaced, moving her eyes to Estella. "I know it probably isn't what you're here for, but..."
Estella nodded slightly. “We came here seeking Ser Durand, actually. As it seems he's with you for the time being, so shall we be. If that's all right?" She tilted her head at the others.
"You are certain?" Durand looked a little skeptical. "Unfortunate as the missing patrol is, finding them doesn't amount to what you're doing, surely. We should not keep you from it."
"The sooner the situation is resolved, then, the sooner we can get back to it," Romulus said, as though it was quite a simple decision to make. "And we would not ask for your help if we weren't willing to help in return."
Durand huffed a short breath. "Fair enough, then. We'll fill you in."
The road was more open now, so there wasn't so much reason for them to ride in any particular formation. Estella had taken over the job of guiding Asala's horse along, and the moved them up a little bit, within polite conversation range of the others. “Um, Khari? Is—are you all right?" It seemed like a lame question, devoid of any particular insight or idea as to what could make things better. If anything could. But it was the only one she knew to ask.
It got Khari's attention at least; she'd been staring somewhat ahead and down for the better part of an hour, now, but she raised her head at the query, glancing sidelong at Estella. “Huh? Oh." Her brows furrowed, distorting her vallaslin slightly. “Uh... I mean, yeah. I'll be fine. It's just... been a while, since I had to think about all that. I don't usually like to dwell on the past." She sighed. “I said this already, but... my family probably thought I was dead. And even if none of the scouts recognized me, Vareth and Elasha definitely did. Which means pretty soon everyone's gonna know."
She tugged uncomfortably at her ear; her mouth pulled to one side in a lopsided grimace. “I'd really rather they didn't. I'm never going back; it's not like I was great for the clan when I was there, either. It's just... better, if they think I died or something."
"Why?" Romulus asked, the first word he'd said in a while. His mood had also obviously worsened since the battle and their encounter, but rather than seem lost mentally for the ride, he'd been hard in thought, trying to figure something out. It took the outbreak of conversation for him to finally speak, though. "Will they come after you? Doesn't seem like they bothered before." He frowned, eyes shifting across the horizon as they rode. He was always watchful, never more so than when it was quiet. "I'm no father, but... I think I would prefer to know if my child was alive." The last part was added very quietly, and for a moment he took his eyes off their surroundings, looking at nothing more specific than his horse's mane.
Asala nodded quietly in agreement.
Zahra said little on the matter. Whether she agreed with Khari, or Romulus, was a mystery. From what little she spoke about her own family, it might've been safe to assume that she, too, thought it best to be wary of whatever wayward kin that lied in the forests behind them. She led her horse astride theirs, and occasionally glanced across the way. Seeking any signs of trouble, if there was at all any. She’d opted to keep her bow nestled in her lap, instead of strapping it to her back.
“I don't know if they did before or not." Khari shrugged. “Either way... if I'm dead to them, then they don't have to think about me anymore. It's hard to explain, but—every elf in the clan is the responsibility of the clan, whether they want that responsibility or not. And for everyone who would have been fine letting me go, there's a few like Vareth who always wanted to convince me that I was making a mistake. That I should go back to being shitty at being Dalish instead of trying to be good at something else. It's not going to work. And it's better if they don't have to waste the effort. This way, they can believe whatever suits them, and no one has to deal with what the reality of the situation is."
She shook her head. “I tried, once. To get them to see things the way I do. I think I... hurt them. By turning my back on everything they see as sacred. Maybe my father would want to know I was alive. But the Keeper? The man who has to preserve all that's left of the past? I betrayed that man. And if he's moved on now, then he should be able to stay that way." She leaned down, rubbing at her horse's neck.
Estella of all people believed she could understand fraught and uncomfortable family circumstances. She'd run away from her homeland as well, though for reasons that amounted to far less than Khari's aspirations. But all the same, even knowing what family were uniquely capable of doing to each other, she had to wonder if that was really all there was to it. “You said Vareth would have tried to convince you? Were you friends?" It seemed like a complicated situation, but Khari wasn't refusing to talk about it, at least. Maybe it would help her if she did.
Khari let out a disbelieving snort. “He'd probably describe it that way, I guess. We sure as hell spent enough time together. He wanted to impress my dad, I think—figured if he could bring me back into the fold, that would do it. Followed me around everywhere when he wasn't getting lessons." She lifted her shoulders. “I could never decide if he was okay, or if I just hated his guts. He let me beat on him with a stick for fencing practice back before I knew the first damn thing about fencing, but... eh." She hesitated for a moment. “He was really good at everything, you know? All the stuff Dalish are supposed to be able to do. The hunting and the magic and even the crafting and looking after the halla. Pissed me right off most of the time."
“Well, I bet he would make a terrible chevalier," Estella said matter-of-factly. Truthfully, she could relate quite a bit, at least to the part where Khari had grown up next to someone who was remarkable and talented and easy to envy. Of course, she'd never been upset that her brother was all those things. She'd just developed a distinct sense of her own inferiority. She really hoped Khari didn't have one of those, but it was hard to say. Sometimes, her confidence was utterly convincing, but at others...
Zahra broke free from her silence with a loud snort. It gave way into an even louder laugh.
Asala barely suppressed a giggle at the sudden joke.
Khari didn't bother, laughing aloud instead. Even after it had faded, a small grin remained. “You're absolutely right, Stel. The whole clan would, in fact. Good thing there's me, then." Her smile softened for a moment; there was genuine appreciation in it. “Anyway, this shit is depressing. Let's talk about something else: I've never known there to be other chevaliers around here. But 'red hair and leading a small group' isn't a lot to go by, since that also describes me right now."
Romulus quietly cleared his throat. "He did say 'tall,' though."
"It is not her fault," Asala added with a teasing pout.
Khari made a face at both of them, sticking out her tongue. “Okay, fine, point taken. But if she's a chevalier, she was probably on a horse anyway, so she would have looked tall even if she wasn't." As counterpoints went, it was rather poor, and she seemed to know it. “But anyway, Stel, since you know a bunch of famous people... any chance you've met any tall red-haired chevalier women?"
Estella chuckled. Actually, she did know someone who met that description. “Well," she said, “it's possible he met Violette Routhier. I obviously don't know every chevalier in Orlais, but I do know she has a command rank, so she'd be leading people. I'm not sure what she'd be doing here though. Maybe something about the increase in bandits recently?"
It seemed they would be finding out soon enough. Cresting yet another hill, their group came upon what looked like a small encampment. It was set up against a small river on one side, but the landscape made it difficult to select a truly fortified position. This particular camp clearly made up for that with the volume of posted guards; no fewer than four men and women on horseback stood guard; the camp itself flew the standard of House Drakon—a silver dragon on dark green.
“Uh... that doesn't mean what I think it means, does it?" Khari's eyes were wide; it was clear what she thought it meant.
Estella was reluctant to burst her bubble, so to speak but it was probably better to do it before they approached the camp. “Sorry," she said, smiling a bit. “With the Civil War going on right now, no one flies the Orlesian flag on its own. Everyone uses either the Valmont one, the de Chalons standard, or the Drakon one, depending on who they side with. Violette is a captain under Grand Duke Guillame."
If Khari was trying to contain her disappointment, she did a pretty terrible job at it, but it passed quickly, at least. Pulling her horse to a stop, she looked back over at Estella, more thoughtfully now. “So, while I could try to explain, if this is really the lady you know, it might be better if you did it. Actually, maybe it's better if it's you anyway. One of the Inquisitors, and all." She shrugged.
Estella nodded. She'd sort of expected that; the fact that the camp flew the Drakon flag definitely narrowed down the possibilities—that faction was by far the smallest. Perhaps it was a bit misleading to even call it a faction, since what they were really focused on was continuing with standard chevalier duties while the rest killed each other over what amounted to a political dispute. She'd certainly inherited her commander's viewpoint on how much sense that made, though she'd have thought the same anyway. “I can do that," she confirmed.
They rode towards the camp deliberately, not near fast enough to look like they were coming in for an attack, but directly enough that their intent to speak with the guards would be clear. This actually would have been easier of she were still in her Lions gear, but perhaps the russet and gold of the Inquisition would be recognizable enough for now.
She eased Nox to a stop a polite distance from the guard. The masked helm made it exceedingly difficult to read him, but his body language at least suggested curiosity rather than anything hostile. They didn't really have the look of highwaymen, she supposed. “Hail, ser," Estella called, pressing her fist to her heart as she'd been taught. “Might we know who camps here?"
"This is the encampment of the first squad of Lord-General Drakon's second flight, captained by Ser Violette Routhier," the chevalier replied, returning the gesture. "What business have you here, strangers?"
“I am Estella Avenarius, of the Inquisition." She still hadn't gotten used to calling herself Inquisitor, and she was never, ever going to refer to herself as the Herald of Andraste. “Formerly of Commander Lucien Drakon's Argent Lions. I know Ser Violette, and we would speak with her, if she would hear us."
That certainly gave the knight pause. He seemed to think that over for a moment, then inclined himself forward on his horse in a more formal bow. "If you would be so kind as to wait a moment, my lady, I will consult with the captain on this matter." He raised a hand, waving over one of the other guards, who assumed his position between them and the camp proper while he left.
A few minutes of silent waiting later, he returned. "The captain will see you, Lady Inquisitor." It would seem Violette at least knew what she was. "If you and your friends would care to dismount, we can care for your horses here. The captain is in the command tent."
There didn't seem to be any reason to protest that; the chevaliers collected the reins of their horses, one of them giving Nox an affectionate pat. The group was allowed to pass into the camp unhindered. It was both small and orderly, not given to the noisy energy of larger military groups. There were perhaps a dozen men in total visible, including the guards, though the number of tents suggested the number must be closer to twenty. There was a small cluster of them closest to the river that were markedly different—older-looking. Khari looked intently at them for a few moments, only moving again when it became obvious she'd be left behind if she didn't.
The command tent was easy to find; it was considerably larger than the rest, built of a sturdy canvas material held up by several poles staked into the ground, tall enough to easily accommodate even Asala's height. The flap was already open, admitting them inside. The most prominent feature therein was the map table; the rest was no more than a cot and a small trunk at the foot of it, both pushed far to the back, and a few chairs around the table.
Standing on the further side of the table were two people. The first was Violette, red hair chopped to just graze her shoulders and armor of an even brighter shade polished to a shine. She glanced up when they entered, offering Estella an unusually strained smile. The second was a man, perhaps six feet in height, with a thick mane of unruly, greying hair and a roughly-trimmed beard only a few shades darker. The lines around his eyes were etched deep into tanned, leathery skin, but his eyes themselves were a lively blue, with the glimmer of a keen mind to them. His armor was considerably older-looking, but just as well-maintained, the red iron dark by comparison to his counterpart's.
His facial expression didn't change much—not until he spotted Khari. "Little Bear?" His accent was relatively thick, compared to most of those Estella had encountered at court. His face, gruff to first appearance, morphed into a bewildered smile, softening the craggy edges.
“Big Bear!" Slipping past Estella, Khari lunged at the man, who caught her seemingly by reflex. There was a muffled clank where their armor collided, but neither seemed to pay it any mind.
"Still don't know your damn manners, I see." He grumbled, but when he set her back down on her feet, he was careful about it. "Introduce your friends, you little heathen."
She scrunched her nose at him, but it didn't dim the force of her smile. “Everyone, this is Ser Jean-Robert Durand. Big Bear, this is everyone. Stel's the one with the prettiest eyes you've ever seen, Asala's the one who looks like she needs a hug all the time, Cap'n Zee's the one who looks like the fun kind of trouble, and Rom... has better tattoos than me." She might have been about to say something else there, but it was hard to tell for sure. “Also I guess two of them are like Inquisitors or something, but that's not the important part."
Ser Durand ran a hand down his face, very obviously rolling his eyes. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Lord and Lady Inquisitor, Captain, Miss Asala." He tapped his fist to his chest as Estella had not long ago.
"I do not need a hug all of the time," Asala murmured with a slight pout, before giving Ser Durand a timid wave.
“Little Bear, huh?” Zahra cooed with an already widening grin, before scratching at her chin with obvious curiosity. She, too, dipped her head in greeting and planted her hands on her hips, eyes roving the interior of the large tent. From the looks of it, she was impressed by their encampment. Her gaze slipped back Ser Durand. "Lovely to meet you, Big Bear. It took us awhile."
Estella sort of thought Asala was undermining her own argument, putting it with that face, but it was only more amusing that way. She considered protesting her own characterization, but decided against it. Khari was clearly in a good mood right now; she didn't want to put even a mild damper on it, considering how she'd been feeling a while ago. It was sort of charming that her spirits could be so lifted so quickly; it meant she wasn't the sort of person to hold onto the negative things in life. Really, most people could learn a great deal form that, herself included.
Estella returned Ser Durand's gesture. “The pleasure's mine," she said, smiling.
Romulus raised his eyebrows a little at the descriptor Khari applied to him, but it seemed as though her shift in mood was infectious, and he found himself smiling as well, though not as broadly as Estella. "It's good to finally meet you. We came a long way."
"So it seems. I'd like to hear more about it, later on. For now, I'm afraid you've caught us in the middle of a strategy session." He glanced over at Violette, his smile fading considerably. "Quite an urgent one, it seems."
"I'm afraid so," Violette said, sighing slightly. "My sister Liliane's squad was sent to the area a fortnight ago, to help quell the bandits encroaching on the region. None of them have been heard from since." She grimaced, moving her eyes to Estella. "I know it probably isn't what you're here for, but..."
Estella nodded slightly. “We came here seeking Ser Durand, actually. As it seems he's with you for the time being, so shall we be. If that's all right?" She tilted her head at the others.
"You are certain?" Durand looked a little skeptical. "Unfortunate as the missing patrol is, finding them doesn't amount to what you're doing, surely. We should not keep you from it."
"The sooner the situation is resolved, then, the sooner we can get back to it," Romulus said, as though it was quite a simple decision to make. "And we would not ask for your help if we weren't willing to help in return."
Durand huffed a short breath. "Fair enough, then. We'll fill you in."