Her voice, though he would never admit it, caught the rogue off guard. Sunken, glowing eyes peering down upon the frail thing cradled in his willowy, yet lean arms. "What, is in a name..? For a rose, by any other name... Would still, bere thorns..." Was the only answer he would afford her as he walked on in silence. Silence, it was always so right for him. Never speak, and they never question. When did he stop following this rule? Such a fundamental aspect of his job... He dared not meet her gaze, however, eyes scanning the horizon. Until he spotted a fire. it was close to the old Scarlet watch tower, though it's original occupants were as long gone and forgotten as the building's first crafters. He could not, even if he wanted to, raise his voice high enough to reach the camp...<br/><br/>And so he walked... He with the priestess in his arms, covered in slime, bile, blood and more. And as the camp grew closer... He spoke again, "I, have held many names, in this life... None, the name I held... is no more... I name I go by." He cut himself off, after spotting the Earthen Ring emblem decked across their tents, and tabards. Stepping closer, and around a bush, he whispered solmly...<br/><br/>"Syramis..."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>