Kaya glanced around the group, noting sizes, races, and apparent capabilities. She had never seen, nor in fact ever<span style="font-style: italic">heard</span>, of such a motley assemblage in all her training or wandering, but each of them seemed capable enough in their own right. And this new set of adventurers had even apparently divested themselves of the old man, a combat liability, so they were clearly not inexperienced. Though at least one of them, the queer man in the mask, didn't seem a fighter, so maybe he used magic? Which would be welcome in the current situation. And the man speaking, an apparent leader, had used some sort of glowing light on two of his companions, so he did too, though magic-users in armour was a new one to her. Too much book reading and not enough book<span style="font-style: italic">lifting</span>, in her opinion, led to a strong mind on a weak base, which could be knocked over like a spinning top if you could get past the magic itself. That thought drew her attention back to the briefing that was happening, though her damaged left ear focused on Tarkus's advice.<br/><br/>To her own group leaders advice, she responded quietly, "Weell, that's sayin' an' no' doin', but Ah get the jist. Stomp 'em flat and keep doin' so until there's nothin' left, aye? Ah ken do tha' much, and maybe more." While she was paying attention to Magnus, she slowly drew out her blade, careful not to make too much noise, though the rasp of steel was noticeable. Still, she made every appearance of not being hostile, in case the strangers thought she was. Setting the tip into the ground, she reached into her satchel and drew out several large, fat tubers, glistening oddly in the light of the pillar and coloured a pale green. She held one up to her mouth and whispered in her own language, causing it the shine faintly. She did the same to the rest, a different phrasing every time, and set them gently down, though one she kept and one she handed to Tarkus. Glancing at Floriad, in case she recognised the things and wanted one, the Epona pulled up her sword and began gently slicing into the root, switching spots every few inches. With the size of her blade, it took remarkably little time to leave the whole of the vegetable a shredded mess, to which she muttered a quiet thanks and then took a bite of before tossing it to the ground, making a face of disgust as she did so. However, anyone watching would notice the shine of the fat tuber was now in her blade instead.<br/><br/>Again she whispered to Tarkus, anticipating the question, "'tis an ol' method of dealin' with magic, when th' clans would have ta deal with hostile spirits an' the like. Her kind," she jerked a thumb the Sidhe's direction, "gave us th' secret back in th' days of ol', back when we were younger, for a service Ah don't remember hearin' abou'. 'Tis said th' spirits in them will give your blade an edge which.." She paused, screwing up her face while looking for the right wording. "The edge doesn't always stay in this world? If'n tha' makes sense. Ah been savin' them in case Ah ran across somethin' nasty, and glades and meadows this seems to fit th' bill in question, aye? It don' last ferev'r, though, so you'll have to make th' strokes count. Ah've got three asides th' one you've got. Hand 'em to the best fighters, mebbe? Or th' worst?"<br/><br/>She glanced up as Magnus finished speaking for the moment. Vasma still had yet to give her say, but the meaning seemed clear enough to Kaya. They would be facing religious fanatics that would fight fiercely, with no honour save their own twisted logic, to defend what might or might not be an unkillable fledgling god. A hopeless cause to save the world seemed like a righteous quest to the young Epona, and she could not keep her lopsided grin from showing and her tail from swishing in delight. After Vasma filled them in on the spiritual and magical aspects, she could figure out tactics easily enough, and it looked like she might be the only true military veteran here, so it might even fall to her to sketch out a rough plan of attack. Knowing that, her heart began to pace faster, and the upswelling in her breast would not die down. She was going to finally do something<span style="font-style: italic">worthwhile</span>, and make Captain Kildare and Ser Taldan proud, even (and<span style="font-style: italic">especially</span>, something in the back of her mind whispered) if she gave her life to do so.