Marius listens, recognizing the man's bearing and status before he introduces himself formally.  By Amara's side, he doesn't survey the carnage, doesn't feel the pull of his eyes towad the grisly scene as some of the other men seem to-- many of them are his senior, some with dark-stained wraps around their foreheads, arms, or legs.  He nods sternly listening, accepting the truth of the man's words with the stern sympathy of men.  But it's not until the mention of the mingled ranks that Marius seems ruffled, his eyes scanning back over the corpse piles again, as if he fears suddenly that he's victim to some strange ruse.<br/><br/>He listens to Arden's introduction, nods respectfully.  "Marius, from Redtree.  Amara--"  he hesitates, seeming to be uncertain how to continue her introduction, as if he lacks words to describe her kinship to him-- "--she's from Redtree as well."<br/><br/>The shadow lingering, Arden's eyes pan across the valley to the mountains beyond, as if looking for the path from which they've come.  "My position demands," the elder begins, "some measure of caution.  What brings you this way..?"<br/><br/>Marius nods faintly.  "We're heading up the coast."  He shakes his head subtly, honesty seeming the only course he knows.  "We've no destination."  The answer must suffice, because Arden nods.  "We will help if we can--"<br/><br/>Arden's response is dismissive.  "Formality.  Kind, but unnecessary.  The men have things under control."<br/><br/>The older man heaves a deep-chested breath, looks between Amara and Marius for a moment, then continues.  "You're welcome to stay here.  The tavern is intact," a dry, sad smile creeps across his lips as he turns, "and, I hazard to say, empty."<br/><br/>"Sir," Marius begins, modus militaria in control a moment, "Elder," he corrects himself, "You said... men?  With the beasts?"  He looks again toward the piles.  "How is that possible..?"  Arden's broad shoulders shrug beneath the grime-smeared jerkin he wears, his warm, chestnut eyes riveted to Amara, as if something about her unsettles him, but he is uncertain how.  There's no answer, except one of the nearby bowmen-- a girl, thirteen if a day-- who makes that same warding sign against evil over her heart.<br/><br/>"What--" Marius continues, stepping closer, his hands clenching tight, then relaxing, with uncertainty as he speaks, "--who did they take, Arden?"