Domino cocked his head sideways as he turned towards Sam. He motioned out towards the seemingly miles-wide field. "I don't see any sign of a forest around here..." His eyes widened for a moment. Were they even in the same world where they'd fought Mavo? He still didn't fully understand how the Gate worked. What if these places weren't even connected? He shook his head. Sam was the one who wanted to theorize about these things. He was just along for the ride. A strong breeze blew toward the two of them. "Right, I guess we should look for a path or something. We should at least find some shelter, it looks like it's going to rain soon." Domino stopped as he ended his statement, ducking beneath the tall grass. He smelled something on that breeze. Alcohol? It seemed unlikely, but all the same he had smelled it. He motioned for Sam to duck down with him and began creeping through the grass towards the origin of the smell.
As Domino peaked out through the grass, he realized they were now next to the tree he had noticed earlier. Sitting beneath the tree was an older looking man. His skin was dark, and covered in scars. His hair was white, short and curly, and he bore a white beard. He wore no shirt, but his body had a few bandages wrapped around it's midsection. Even so, it was easy to tell the man was incredibly muscular. Upon closer inspection, it became obvious the man was missing his right arm in it's entirety. It seemed the bandages originated from that shoulder. The old man wore a strange skirt-like garment around his legs, that was made of simple brown fabric, and no shoes. In his left hand he clutched a gourd, and after he few moments he took a long gulp from it. He sat with his back against the bare tree. A sword leaned against the tree beside him. The weapon had a sharply curving blade that appeared to have been fashioned from bronze, given it's color. The hilt was made of carved Ivory.
Domino nudged Sam. "I'd guess this guy is a demon." The young man's hands reached into his coat. He gave Sam a nod. "Well, you wanted to talk to a demon, here's your chance. If he attacks you I'll come out and surprise him." The assassin surveyed their target. Surely a man with such a crippling condition wouldn't put up much of a fight. He reminded himself of the perseverance Mavo had shown. He couldn't let his guard down, regardless of the man's appearance.
Alexander watched as Rhys revealed his hand, or rather, his lack thereof. He scratched at his beard for a moment. He strongly doubted that the wound, despite it's severity, was really preventing the man from fighting. Their earlier conversation had seemed to imply he was perfectly capable physically. He pondered the subject for a few more moments before breaking the silence. He motioned towards Rhys' arm. "I've always thought it was a bit of a cruel joke the way people end up at this place. I've seen plenty who come in so debilitated they can barely walk, much less fight. It seems a bit counter-productive, but I suppose that's how life...er...death? is." He shook his head. "So where did you all come from? Have you been in this place long?" Regardless of situation, Alexander's tone never seemed appropriate.
