<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Day 7</strong></span><br/><br/>The expedition was almost too large for the great hall they had chosen to settle down in. Fourteen people and their animals. Horses, mules, and animal companions. They came from all walks of life, from across the continent. It was a strange group, and some of the most famed and powerful demihumans alive were there. Vaelor, the undead paladin, among them. He was blonde once, though it seemed gray and ashen like his pale skin. His armor was once white and silver, though it had scorch marks on it and was over the tattered rags of what was once his robes. He wore a thick scarf which often obscured his mouth- it was disintegrating at the end of it, loose strands of fabric dangling loose from the knitting.<br/><br/>"Why don't you sit down and rest?" Black-armored Vwyn asked as he sat on an overturned stone. He was a giant of a man, with black hair and dark eyes and a strong jaw. His greatsword lay beside him, a tremendous piece of steel. Covered in head to toe, Vwyn was clad in black iron<br/><br/>"Rest...?" Vaelor answered, "A body is needed for sleep... Flesh and bones are required to recline... Do not let my appearance fool you, this is but a hollow imitation of my humanity. I have no need for rest."<br/><br/>"By the Gods' blood, I just want to hear a story." Vwyn complained, his armor clunking as he abruptly leaned back and shrugged, "Haven't you been around for a hundred years or so?"<br/><br/>Vaelor looked at him, pale blue eyes weary, "Yes... as have Nsia and the elves."<br/><br/>"Oh, but none of them carry around a great demon's horn." Vwyn gruffly said, leaning forward, "Isn't that how you died? Don't you all want to hear a story!?" He gestured extravagantly to the others in the group,  though there was little enthusiasm from the response, "Well, I want to."