"Morning." Holt grumbled as Sydney made his appearance. The sanctioned was entirely too perky for the man's taste, but there wasn't much he could do about it. The knights themselves watched him approached with mixed reactions. The one with the smile veiled his features behind a smile much as Sydney himself did, and the feeling between them was obviously mutual. The second seemed almost sad, however--the corners of his eyes wrinkled slightly as they focused, and he almost imperceptibly shook his head.<br/><br/>As Eva slid in from the woods, Holt's expression tightened. Not used to being disregarded, he followed her with sharp eyes that ignored her attire. The younger of the two knights seemed amused enough to allow his gaze to linger, flicking between her and Holt momentarily before smirking a bit. While the retainer might have considered it a blatantly stupid act, he at least enjoyed that she'd managed to get his goat. The older knight said little, still watching Sydney. As she returned, both Knights nodded to her, the young one smiling a bit more earnestly as Holt growled.<br/><br/>"If you'd prefer not to make it back to your city, you could always just ask. That way at least you'll only get yourself killed." He said with a roll of his eyes as he leaned back, resting the heavy crossbow on the top of his shoe and returning to his grousing.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">â€œI hope you can fight as well as you can guzzle liquor, Holt. I take it these men are here to prop you up if your hangover proves to be too much for you?"</span><br/><br/>Watching Mira make her way in, Holt growled slightly and gave her a half-hearted glare. "When you do what I do for a living," he said pointedly, "you eat and drink as best you can on all occasions. I'll have plenty of time to wring myself out in the forest." Still, he seemed mollified at least--someone here might have a sense of humor worth enjoying, and that always made the trip a bit easier. Knights and their retinues hardly tended towards the loquacious.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"Aye, aint yer big feller eh? Been eatin' yer radishes I see. I like them radishes me self."</span><br/><br/>As Adalwolf joined the assembled, the Knights turned to him in unison, the younger one smiling as though amused and the older one nodding his head. Though not known to be conversant, the older knight offered the ghost of a smile. "We are glad that you have answered our summons, Adalwulf Rocco. With luck you may even return to your radishes."<br/><br/>With Charlotte heading in with a cheery wave and a greeting, it seemed as though everyone was present. He didn't need to cough to gain their attention--as they drew still, the older night stepped foreword and looked over all of them with a single encompassing glance. One hand resting on the mace he carried, he spoke. As when he had responded to Rocco, his voice was deep and resonant.<br/><br/>"I am Ser Deidrich, and this is my companion Ser Quinn. Thank you for accepting our summons and aiding us in cleansing your woods. With luck, we will be able to return you safely again. Though many of you have entered the woods before, be on your guard--we will be heading in more deeply, and the beasts within do not favor intrusion." With little further instruction he turned on heel and began to make his way out through the darkness of the gates and into the field on the other side, the last boneyard and battlefield separating Needle from the wilds.<br/><br/>Ser Quinn chuckled slightly as he looked to them, his smile amused. "He's all heart." He smirked. "Stay together, by the way--I'd hate to have to pick up pieces of you in the morning. Once we're inside, we're all we've got." With that he too turned and started down the corridor. Though their legs were long, their gait was relatively slow, and it would not be hard to keep pace with them.<br/><br/>As they broke through the barrier, the meadow in the morning light was deceptively placid. The dirt paths that worked through it were mounded high indeed--the grass, though leveled at their feet, was nearly half a man deep and rippled like a sea in the slightest wind. Only here and there could bits of bone and armor be made out, the bloody history of the field removed by the forest's impossible growth.<br/><br/>Deidrich and Quinn lead the way for the moment. Though they don't speak much themselves, they leave enough space between them for others to join, and don't seem markedly unfriendly. Holt brings up the rear, his crossbow over his shoulder. Order for the moment is loose--a collection of individuals, not an army.<br/><br/>In the trees, something shifts and is gone.