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[Bill Chompski]

The camp is situated in a bombed out building, that has seemingly remained relatively stable.
It's squalid, and stinks of old smoke and uncleaned clothes.
A dead firering sits in the middle, with a measly pile of broken furniture next to it.
Makeshift tools and cooking utensils are scattered about the area.
In one corner is a mess of cloth, bunched together in a vague semblance of a mattress.

[TALLPANZER]

"I wonder how long he has been here. Logic would say, since the day of mourning, but magic can do funny things with time." Brother Jonathan walked around the camp and looked for the fire pit. he place some his own tinder in it and set to heating up a pot of tall. "So I say we wait."

[JaxtalMK2]

"Mm... if he's been living here a long time...." Dullahan pauses, thinking a moment. "If he's been here since then... perhaps I should return to the ship. I did have a bit of a... reputation. Well, whether I do or not, we should perhaps get something proper cooking, it's likely been a while since whoever lived here had a real meal."

[TALLPANZER]

"Good idea." Brother Jonathan nodded at Dullahan and then looked to the others. "Does anyone have a house Lyrander flag we place? as a sign of parlay." He got the fire lit.

[JaxtalMK2]

Dullahan headed to take the skiff back up, wanting to make himself scarce. It'd give him time to think as well.

[Cynicalwhovian]

"I do not. Kayto may, if we wish to return to the ship momentarily."

[retromach]

The Cyran soldiers that Detlas Jundar had seen in his camp made their way back towards their skiff. They boarded it and prepared to go, leaving a group of other adventurers. Were they Cyran soldiers in disguise? Some of their allies? It was hard to tell, exactly. But it was clear they were going to wait him out at his camp.

The next move belonged to Acting Captain Jundar.

[Bill Chompski]

Peering out a small opening in the dome, the soldier passes his spear between his hands, eyeing the group.
He had nothing of value there, but it still felt like a violation. Pushing down his anger, he moves along a bit, moving through the dome.

The man looks at the skiff, and the airship it's going to, looking for markings and details as to it's purpose. Troop carrier? Merchant? Warship?

[retromach]

All airships belong to House Lyrandar, and only they can pilot them. They do a lot of mercenary transport work, and generally avoid direct participation in the war.

[LordPorkins]

Rolled 16 for Investigation

Fyodor crouches over the campsite, carefully poking through it with his rapier, his keen eye searching for information on this dweller and how long he'd been here.

[Trissy-Tama]

[Redacted at request]

[TALLPANZER]

Brother Jonathan checked the fire for the pot of tal, then looked to Sormias "About a century ago, King Jarot of Galifar died, his children, the rulers of the five nations, could not agree on who would succeed him." Brother Jonathan put some more fuel on the fire. "From this, the Last War erupted, alliances rose and fell over the course of a hundred years, the five nations turning against each other at various times. It all ended the day Cyre was consumed by a deadly mist." He turned the coals  "That day it became, the Mournland." He check the pot and sighed "The treaty of Thronehold was signed soon after, and the five nations found peace between them."

[retromach]

Fyodor was sure that people had been camping here for decades. It used to be a larger camp that housed soldiers, but it looks like it's been just one man for at least the past several years. You're able to discern his build and height, as well.

[retromach]

The Four Nations, someone might have corrected Jonathan. Nothing is left of Cyre but scattered refugees. Before the destruction of Cyre, they say, one in ten member of the Five Nations died in the Last War. The eradication of an entire nation brought that up to three in ten.

[Trissy-Tama]

[Redacted at request]