"Fridgar!" he yelled in that deep, saturated Rakahi accent. "My spear is too long for your filthy mortal breath to disgrace!" the Venora said, hissing. Upon being told that he would be stuck with Fridgar's spear instead, the Shadowdancer winked, curving his lips into a grin. "Is that what's going to be happening?" the mage asked curiously, a dumb look covering his face as if he were totally ignorant of tonight's ongoings. Fridgar probably wouldn't realize it, but he was alluding to something special - something that he would be acting out come the eve.
Good choice, his partner said. "Thank you, you of stinky breath," he continued on, wearing the accent now like it was his own. "I learned this trick of choosing the forest over the plains from my grandfather, Enrique Cobalo Ki'Lozdara. I am glad it has impressed you so," the mage stated, bowing before his partner, and then promptly clearing his throat. When he spoke next, the accent would be gone.
"Anyhow," he spoke normally, "I think the whole point of camping is staying in the woods, personally. Why would I want to camp just to sleep atop some hill, doomed to have a heavy gust sweep away our tent and everything within it? I want to be among the trees, with the cluttered forest floor. It's how I like it," the mage nodded. Fridgar probably felt the same way - the forest was where he belonged. In some ways, he almost felt that his mate was most happy here, despite the... complications they'd recently experienced in similar forests to the west of here.
"The creek?" he asked, biting his lip. "It was... okay," Alistair replied. "I can't really complain too much. It was... very creeky," the Baron whispered, lingering on the word. "Actually, I don't really know what creeky is. I just hadn't expected it to taste like there were these inexplicable, yet ever-present particles floating about through the water, making it taste as if saturated in something unwanted. It couldn't have been completely pure," Alistair said, shaking his head. No - it wasn't entirely pure. Then again, it was salvaged from a creek and purified by a bloody head bag. It was good, given the circumstances.
"Let's find a river," the mage said, nodding. "We can't be far from the real Rinlokk Elv. We're right along the path to it, going towards Draeslogg. Just behind us is a collection of large settlements, vast and endlessly heading east. They must have originated from the riverbed. I think we'll need to go upstream, and then keep going eastward." The mage recommended based only on what he'd seen in Alfweyr. Were he wrong, it would have been a waste of time, but...
Among his thoughts, he was interrupted by a great and shiny new acquisition by Fridgar - a large branch. The man wanted to make it into a club; Alistair couldn't help but laugh at him, finding him to be adorable. "Fridgar," the mage started, a charming smile consuming his lips, "are you sure that a club will be more useful than your fists? Why don't we... wait - why don't we gather more sticks like this early on, so we can put them towards a campfire tonight?"
Maybe his idea was stupid; he didn't know. He just thought it was better to prepare early, and they could always drop the bloody sticks if something came up on them. Regardless of his feelings on the matter, Alistair would follow, and quickly beckon his mate in the direction of the running water. A river sounded great for setting up their camp for the night. He'd always wanted to have a cabin by a small river running through a forest. While this wasn't quite the same, it would still be quite charming.
After roaming towards the water for a brief period of time, Alistair and Fridgar found what appeared to be another offshoot river, likely connected to the Elv. The mage nodded his head, grabbing a stick and jabbing it into the thin, white-colored soil next to the riverside. This would be the perfect place to set up camp. There was a large grassy area looking outward from the river, the trees shaping around its edges. He wondered how it had ended up like that -- why there weren't trees there, too. But he couldn't claim to understand nature.
Being asked about the Revelation, the mage's brow quirked and he looked back to Frid, seeking sticks around the trees to build a fire for the late evening.
"I..." he started, pausing in place. "I don't know, Frid. I just -- I just felt a change. I didn't understand it at first, but then a power came. Subliminally, almost, it offered itself to me and I took it. I didn't really understand what I was accepting at the time, but I quickly learned," he whispered. "I changed, fundamentally. I longed always to be everywhere, to see everything, from that point on. That was when I decided I wanted to claim a new land, rather than attempt to expand upon an old one. I might have not known it at the time, but I do understand now," the mage stated, nodding his head to himself. Strangely enough, he didn't fully realize that until he just said it.
"You'll know when it's there, especially now that I've described it to you. It's a lingering want - your body begs to evolve. You can let it, or you can stop it. I... well. I succumbed to my fear - I thought, maybe this will make me closer to Ellasin, capable of pulling her from her chair. It did bring me closer like I suspected, but still not close enough. The Revelation is a change, but it is not a deification. I am still a man, somewhere, with a man's weakness. That's the truth I live with now."