There it was. Nerves already on edge, Tanvi jerked back as the armoured figure beneath her moved with a terrifyingly inhuman speed that defied its bulk. As it turned out, the gesture was unnecessary, as the creature stilled itself. Just as well, as she wasn't sure if she would have made it in time. That would probably have been the worst death possible, all things considered. Certainly the least worthy of song and praise, centuries after she had met her end.<br/><br/>She licked her lips and tried not to grimace at the mechanically enhanced question. This was, after all, improvement. Moving slowly, she lowered herself into a crouch, placing the skin on the ground between them, taking her hand off her sword in what she hoped was a placating gesture. No need to antagonise him, after all, if he were feeling talkative.<br/><br/>"I am Tanvi, and this—" she gestured upwards "—is Dauskin, of the Crom Tribe." A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "The leathery suspicious looking one, not the lizard he's riding on," she clarified. "We're angels of mercy, bearing water in the desert for you and your... companion." He hesitated for only a moment as she pondered what their relationship was exactly. At least she was feeling more confident with every passing second this is who they were foretold to meet. "We were sent for you, to give aid and succor, to ensure you do not perish before the gods have had their sport with you."