Tales of Neutral Ground IC

[Niobaran]

Raz

Raz is breathing heavily after having caught up with the group and found his now-familiar seat behind gryphon on the phantom steed. "A bit less time than I hoped." he comments, as he takes a moment to scan the strange part of town. He had gotten a brief glance of the Karrnathi architecture before, and now is not the time to carefully inspect it anyway, but the stark contrast to the other parts are difficult not to detect.

The were-kin raises an eyebrow when he, if only from a slight distance, realizes that Maugrim has changed his way. When he requests his weapon, Raz first looks to Arimart for clearance -- as Arimart anticipates -- and their exchange of glances takes only a split moment. "Could you get us side-by-side, so I can get this bulky thing out of my way?" He lowly asks Gryphon, and then carefully removes the strap over his chest that holds the bundle with the clad-in-cloth weapon, its distinct silhouette undoubtedly easy to make out for its rightful owner, but possibly mistaken for whatever polearm for anyone else. Carefully, he lets the weapon slide into his right hand, and once the horses aside another, he slightly extends his arm, shaking from the bumpy ride and the non-negligible weight of the weapon. Once he feels the movement of Arimart's horse being transferred steadily to his own hand through the polearm, hinting that Maugrim has it firmly gripped, he finally lets loose.

Addressing Arimart, he replies: "I will leave the undead to you and focus on the humanoids. I'll target arcanists with higher priority, hoping to prevent them to hex any of us. I prefer solid ground to shaking horseback, so I'll jump of once the enemy is in range. You raise a good concern, Sir. My arrows usually leave someone either alive or dead, and rarely in between. I will however not pursue who falls or flees. But, I will not hold back to protect my unit. As we promised one another." He gives Gryphon a short sign to bring a bit more distance between the horses again to prevent any collisions, turns his attention to what would lie ahead. He checks all straps and buckles. Bows and quivers had been maintained carefully in the morning, but he gives both a quick inspection nevertheless. He removes the hood from his head, preferring a greater field of vision to its meek protective abilities. They probably know who you are now anyway... Suddenly remembering Maugrim's words, he puts a slight grin on his face, as he prepares to slowly attune himself to his surroundings and gradually shift into a more feline form.