If only he was better with this whole...conversation thing.
"What do you mean by...you are too easy to recognize? Do many people know who you are?" It never occurred to him that maybe all Necromancers do have some sort of easily recognizable look about them. It would be a little odd to say the least, he never thought of a nation have a very distinguished look but he figured it was at least possible in some way.
Chaucer shook his head and frowned. "Not at all...that is not what I meant. I apologize if you thought that I was being...offensive. I meant that it was different, that it was more unusual. People who are raised by churches are often very devout in belief and worship...at least, that was how I was taught. It is simply a testament to your will." Whew, he was glad that he had smoothed that over somewhat nicely. He hadn't meant it was bad at all, he had just meant that it was...different.
Bleh, that was the only way he could put it.
They talked off and on for hours, the thought of going back out there was lost on Chaucer for a while. He didn't even know that the sun had gone down, the small fire in his pit was keeping the entire thing well lit still. It wasn't as if much lit filtered in or out anyway. Eventually Chaucer had become comfortable enough to remove his shirt, showing off the rest of his tattoos. It was a little warm, that was his reasoning anyway, and if anything he'd have rather been comfortable. At one point though, his keen senses picked something up outside...and he retrieved his quiver and bow.
"Aisha...there is...something I must check on. I will return hopefully in a little while. Please stay here." The forest was no place for someone to go into alone at night anyway, unless that person knew the forest well enough that it wouldn't matter. Armed and ready, Chaucer headed outside, shirtless and armed. He didn't have the time to get dressed, and his body was used to such temperature changes. The man looked like a ghost however, his dark tattoos now glowed an unearthly green colour, almost as if he were a beacon now.
It didn't take him long to find the source of his fears. A group of people, armed with torches, weapons and luggage, heading toward Fell. They seemed like a band of thieves to him, all dressed in leather armours, all carrying short swords, daggers, and a few small crossbows. Their professions weren't a concern to him. One of them was using magic to conjure drinks. An arrow was nocked and loaded into his weapon and he ran toward them to get a better listen to them. Ugh, he was hoping he'd be able to have a peaceful night but...that was not the case.
