hafrogman
Adventurer
Tristan brings up the rear at a slow but steady pace. Plate mail was great when someone was swinging a blade at your guts, but not so usefull for getting somewhere quickly. Still, from what people seemed to be saying, it wouldn't be so long before someone was trying to kill him again. He gazed out over the group in front of him. This was fairly insane. He'd just met most of these people, and only known the others for a couple of days. Why was he thinking of them as practically family already? Still, he knew that he had to find out what was happening here, with all of them. He watches as Marisa examines the fallen tree, and her tension rubs off on him. He takes a moment to check his sword in its scabbard and to make sure his shield is accessible.