Robert
Danico Felrantrez
Reaper's Skull, the Witherlands

The blade could be noticed through the wind and snow, its silhouette a mere haze amongst the never-settled atmosphere of the blizzard. Still, notice it he did, causing Danico to raise his free hand, a sign of non-hostility. His path veered slightly, the direction the thurible swung towards was directly through this man. Ruling out he was the target, the thurible swung now in the direction beyond. Danico breathed a heavy breath in reaction to the stranger's comment, smoke plumed out the mask's side. "Odd, then, to find someone this far out in the middle of a blizzard, wouldn't you say?" His muffled voice raised to beat the volume of the wind, his words meant for both he and the stranger standing in his way. Their reaction told him nothing of if the stranger were the magic man he sought, a suspicion-raising answer is not, in itself, an indicator of guilt. 

"Though odd as that may be," He'd say before the other could answer his question, "I am a traveler. Amongst... Other things." His mask and the thurible would betray any idea of him being a normal man- a traveler. Still, trust was a fickle thing indeed, and so thought it best not to disclose too much. He took a couple steps closer to the man- still out of striking range, but close enough to at least get a full view of his details. He'd met a couple blood mages in his time- both were pompous knobs with a mightier-than-though mind set. This man didn't seem to fit that trend. "In truth, I'm curious of that cave behind you." He said, raising the thurible to show its soft pendulum motion, separated from interference by the man holding it. "So says my friend here."
Marcia
Arvid Erwynson
Reaper's Skull, the Witherlands

Arvid flicked his gaze from Danico's tentacle-laden chin to his boot clad feet. Every step Danico stole in Arvid's direction was matched by him, only in retreat; easily, he evaded obstacles behind his heels. This was a disciplined man. His boots landed on their toes before flattening. Every word from Danico made him bristle, made the hairs upon Arvid rigid, standing vigilant. The censor swayed. Arvid supposed the man was mad, as winter travelers often became, babbling nonsense. His peculiar armament was dazzling against the bleak snowscape. Perhaps its alluring gold became his only solace in his dead, freezing mind. Perhaps he thought it some tool of augury - perhaps a less-than-upstanding salesman had sworn on its powers of divination. In any case, Arvid was not particularly inclined to indulge a madman's delusion. 

"It's a cave." Arvid never removed his gaze - two hard, sharp dashes of ice - from Danico. "You can't stay here. There's still enough time to make it to an inn before nightfall. Run off."
Robert
Danico would halt his forward advance at a point in which the biting winds were dulled by the overhanging cliff. His visage clearly in view at this point- there was no doubt he was human, the ginger hair and receding hairline alone was a dead giveaway. The tired, receding eyes and poor posture painted a picture of a uniquely human life lived. Though the esoteric mask and goggles that sat against his forehead- on which little icles grew sideways from the frosted winds- suggested a profession not of typical standards. Some alchemists were known for their eccentricities, he was no different. 

"Well of course it's just a cave" He'd reply sarcastically with a shrug, "If I wanted to find a cave, I wouldn't come all the way out to the middle of butt-fuck nowhere." His words played with the apparent desire for the man to say as little as possible. "The thing is," He continued as he placed the thurible on the dirt, three little metal legs prevented the container from toppling over. His hands lowered outwards to his midsection- more casual now than he was before. 

"A family paid me some money to find their missing child. Now what would happen if the man hired to find their missing child also goes missing? People talk, gaurds start to go on high alert, you can't enter or leave any nearby settlements without *Someone* Noticing you. They'll send search parties." He then gestured to this man's camp set up in the middle of a blizzard, "And well, given the inn is close enough to arrive *By nightfall*, I'd wager a guess you're not toughing out the blizzard because you like the view." 

He collected the thurible once more, letting it hang and swing to ensure that the direction of the target was, indeed, still in the cave. "All that aside, I've no care of your intentions for camping here. Only of what you may or may not be."