So many individuals, most of them unfamiliar to Arlo or only passing or vaguely familiar. So many differing personalities and in a small handful of cases, from Arlo's perspective, perhaps some outsized egos. He'd own to occasionally falling into that sort of quagmire himself on some rare occasion or another. He and Vega lovingly thrived on competition after all.
But all this talk about who was to be in charge and who ought not to, or who was fit and who wasn't for one destination or another, it didn't necessarily bode well for unity and cooperation going forward if not sorted out beforehand. As for who would lead, there were a few who seemed quicker than others to volunteer, or at least adopt an air and tone that made it appear that they were. Not Arlo. Maybe his blood simply ran too thick with his Immortal Father's own disposition. He was far from the rank and file sort, not the least bit inclined towards a regimented, ordered life.
Each individual, fighter or mage, strategist or intellectual, had their strengths that were often, none more valuable than any other. He didn't object to the idea of a leader stepping forward. It was simply that he was much less inclined to put his unquestioned trust, his life or the lives of those he cared for, in the hands of someone he knew about as well as he did a random man or woman on the street, no matter their title or rank. At least not on their say so at least without witnessing them in action. And even then, not blindly or without question.
A seasoned, masterful fighter, whose skills he might or might not have ever witnessed before, didn't always make a suitable leader. Nor was the intellectual always the cleverest person in the room. When Kura appeared to take charge, however, it came as something of a relief. Her, Arlo knew well enough already, even if much of it, he'd learned from Vega, that her assertion of leadership was backed up by skill, wisdom and experience. He only hoped their assigned groups would function well enough. The stakes were too high for it to be otherwise.
He wasn't surprised to have been assigned to the group that would head to Ishallr. And it made sense; he was far more familiar with the ice caves there than any of the other locations. But he also knew, based on those experiences, that these ice caves were unique and never without their surprises and new, unexpected pitfalls.
At least he'd taken measures before answering the call, to make sure he'd stay as warm as could be. For quite some time, he'd been using packets of orange sand, tucked into the lining of his clothing, to keep himself warm in the harshest environments. He'd equipped himself accordingly. In addition, on a second chain hanging round his neck, underneath his clothing and armor next to the wolf's tooth he wore, was a rather ridiculous looking, wooden chicken leg. It wasn't a dignified piece of jewelry, even had it been seen for others. But it wasn't useless either. Against his skin, the thing warmed him to an extent similar to a thick down blanket, had he been bundled up in one.
He crossed paths with Hart on his way to join his assigned group, and Arlo smiled, extended a friendly had to the man. Hart was one of the few present that Arlo knew by both face and name, and disposition as well. He wished him well during what lay ahead, and assured him that he and Vega shared a connection that allowed them to check in on each other's well being, no matter the distance between them.
When Elisabeth introduced herself to him, Arlo smiled again and nodded in greeting. "I am indeed Arlo," he said. "Well met, Elisabeth. I was at the ball and recall seeing you there, though I didn't have name to put to face at the time. Vega's spoken of you. It's nice to meet you, properly this time. Visions though?" he asked and then grinned a little, curious about that. "Well, at least I hope they were flattering ones?"
As for Praetorum's arrival, neither the name, face or reputation was a familiar one. He wouldn't be the first Ithecal had met, though he'd met very few overall. His smile stayed put for the most part, though a brow did creep up almost imperceptibly in response to the tone used to assert his position. Arlo had already, privately entertained his own thoughts on that sort of thing, and saw no reason to repeat it out loud. No reason either to start out by declaring his own position of maintaining a healthy measure of skepticism until more light was shone on the topic. "Well met, Praetorum. My name is Arlo Creede."
Darius, when he arrived, seemed to have his own thoughts on leadership, and Immortal's help him, Arlo inwardly groaned. Four people, two assertions of leadership. This didn't necessarily bode well for the challenges ahead. Therefore Arlo wasn't inclined to toss his hat in that already crowded ring. Circumstances as they played out, would inevitably sort it all out soon enough. "Nice to see you again, Darius," he said, though he only knew the man, mostly his name, in very brief passing.
As he was about to share what useful abilities he might bring to the table, a diri the size of Arlo's own fist peeked out from behind the folds of his cloak and slid upwards onto the brim of his hat. Seemingly made of something like clear, blue tinted water and shaped like a teardrop, her eyes were enormous. Almost comically so, which she blinked curiously as she took in the members of the group. A gift from Jesine, given to him arcs ago just after he'd left home. "This is Lyova. She may have something to contribute along the way. She's able to pass through walls or other surfaces and travel on ahead by some distance. Able to communicate back with me telepathically. Which tends to make her a very good scout," he said. Indeed, Lyova had performed that role a number of times by now, and had saved him from any number of surprises that might be laying in wait up ahead or around a blind corner.
"I'm marked, blessed, by U'frek, Qylios and of course, Cassion. Each blessing comes with unique abilities that may be of some use," he considered. "I've mastered sword, bow and brawling. And acrobatics," Arlo added but was sure to clarify. "Not just for entertainment purproses or exhibition, but I've refined it for use in combat."
"Also," he added as an afterthought, but one he felt might be useful indeed. "Thanks to one of my father's blessings, should a member of our party become injured, should we need to rest for a spell or should the cold become too much, I can set us up a safe haven, a safe camp outside the material plane, that will keep us warm, safe, dry and protected for a time, and keep out any of those who might intend harm."
But all this talk about who was to be in charge and who ought not to, or who was fit and who wasn't for one destination or another, it didn't necessarily bode well for unity and cooperation going forward if not sorted out beforehand. As for who would lead, there were a few who seemed quicker than others to volunteer, or at least adopt an air and tone that made it appear that they were. Not Arlo. Maybe his blood simply ran too thick with his Immortal Father's own disposition. He was far from the rank and file sort, not the least bit inclined towards a regimented, ordered life.
Each individual, fighter or mage, strategist or intellectual, had their strengths that were often, none more valuable than any other. He didn't object to the idea of a leader stepping forward. It was simply that he was much less inclined to put his unquestioned trust, his life or the lives of those he cared for, in the hands of someone he knew about as well as he did a random man or woman on the street, no matter their title or rank. At least not on their say so at least without witnessing them in action. And even then, not blindly or without question.
A seasoned, masterful fighter, whose skills he might or might not have ever witnessed before, didn't always make a suitable leader. Nor was the intellectual always the cleverest person in the room. When Kura appeared to take charge, however, it came as something of a relief. Her, Arlo knew well enough already, even if much of it, he'd learned from Vega, that her assertion of leadership was backed up by skill, wisdom and experience. He only hoped their assigned groups would function well enough. The stakes were too high for it to be otherwise.
He wasn't surprised to have been assigned to the group that would head to Ishallr. And it made sense; he was far more familiar with the ice caves there than any of the other locations. But he also knew, based on those experiences, that these ice caves were unique and never without their surprises and new, unexpected pitfalls.
At least he'd taken measures before answering the call, to make sure he'd stay as warm as could be. For quite some time, he'd been using packets of orange sand, tucked into the lining of his clothing, to keep himself warm in the harshest environments. He'd equipped himself accordingly. In addition, on a second chain hanging round his neck, underneath his clothing and armor next to the wolf's tooth he wore, was a rather ridiculous looking, wooden chicken leg. It wasn't a dignified piece of jewelry, even had it been seen for others. But it wasn't useless either. Against his skin, the thing warmed him to an extent similar to a thick down blanket, had he been bundled up in one.
He crossed paths with Hart on his way to join his assigned group, and Arlo smiled, extended a friendly had to the man. Hart was one of the few present that Arlo knew by both face and name, and disposition as well. He wished him well during what lay ahead, and assured him that he and Vega shared a connection that allowed them to check in on each other's well being, no matter the distance between them.
When Elisabeth introduced herself to him, Arlo smiled again and nodded in greeting. "I am indeed Arlo," he said. "Well met, Elisabeth. I was at the ball and recall seeing you there, though I didn't have name to put to face at the time. Vega's spoken of you. It's nice to meet you, properly this time. Visions though?" he asked and then grinned a little, curious about that. "Well, at least I hope they were flattering ones?"
As for Praetorum's arrival, neither the name, face or reputation was a familiar one. He wouldn't be the first Ithecal had met, though he'd met very few overall. His smile stayed put for the most part, though a brow did creep up almost imperceptibly in response to the tone used to assert his position. Arlo had already, privately entertained his own thoughts on that sort of thing, and saw no reason to repeat it out loud. No reason either to start out by declaring his own position of maintaining a healthy measure of skepticism until more light was shone on the topic. "Well met, Praetorum. My name is Arlo Creede."
Darius, when he arrived, seemed to have his own thoughts on leadership, and Immortal's help him, Arlo inwardly groaned. Four people, two assertions of leadership. This didn't necessarily bode well for the challenges ahead. Therefore Arlo wasn't inclined to toss his hat in that already crowded ring. Circumstances as they played out, would inevitably sort it all out soon enough. "Nice to see you again, Darius," he said, though he only knew the man, mostly his name, in very brief passing.
As he was about to share what useful abilities he might bring to the table, a diri the size of Arlo's own fist peeked out from behind the folds of his cloak and slid upwards onto the brim of his hat. Seemingly made of something like clear, blue tinted water and shaped like a teardrop, her eyes were enormous. Almost comically so, which she blinked curiously as she took in the members of the group. A gift from Jesine, given to him arcs ago just after he'd left home. "This is Lyova. She may have something to contribute along the way. She's able to pass through walls or other surfaces and travel on ahead by some distance. Able to communicate back with me telepathically. Which tends to make her a very good scout," he said. Indeed, Lyova had performed that role a number of times by now, and had saved him from any number of surprises that might be laying in wait up ahead or around a blind corner.
"I'm marked, blessed, by U'frek, Qylios and of course, Cassion. Each blessing comes with unique abilities that may be of some use," he considered. "I've mastered sword, bow and brawling. And acrobatics," Arlo added but was sure to clarify. "Not just for entertainment purproses or exhibition, but I've refined it for use in combat."
"Also," he added as an afterthought, but one he felt might be useful indeed. "Thanks to one of my father's blessings, should a member of our party become injured, should we need to rest for a spell or should the cold become too much, I can set us up a safe haven, a safe camp outside the material plane, that will keep us warm, safe, dry and protected for a time, and keep out any of those who might intend harm."
