Both the half-elf and half-orc seemed befuddled at his appearance from the trees. The human chuckled at his entrance though, and said something in their own language, as if he thought he would understand. Regardless of what he said, it seemed to have loosened the shoulders of both the half-elf and half-orc. Visibly, the half-orc became very welcoming, a smile revealing all her sharp teeth and her two tusks spread on her face. The look was not all that welcoming to many people, as they would likely misinterpret it as hostility. To him, however, he could tell it was kindness, perhaps due to the closeness of their blood, they could be fourth cousins for all they knew.

The half-elf on the other hand, true to their get up and previous actions, had a sour expression on their face. He hadn't a clue if this was actually a sour expression or what they were feeling. He could not even tell what gender they were.

Finally the human spoke up, "You dealt with the other one right? Are they dead?"

All signs of impractice seemed to disappear from his speech, as if he improved drastically from just the one conversation they had. He nodded through his surprise, pointing back toward the river, then quickly lowering his hand before his sleeve could fall.

Names, he thought, that would be a good way to ease tension, "What are your names?" the question made him think of his own.

"ah, right," he responded, smiling and putting his hands behind his head.

Pointing at the well dressed and friendly half-orc, who elegantly bowed at the attention, "She is named Zenoda, she may look mean but she is real nice, just don't give her a reason to slap you." she waved at him, smiling again. The comment made about Zenoda's slap reminded him of the bandit at her feet and the large scorch mark on his face.

Then he pointed behind him at the sour half-elf, who at this point was shaking the person on the ground awake with her boot, "That person, who has the most personality in the group, is Madove, she does the nice job of healing us, but don't thank her for it. Not that you should be ungrateful, she just hates hearing thank you." at the sound of her name, Madove turned her head from her companion, angrily questioning the human in a series of interrogations he wish he could understand.

After laughing it off and raising his hand in a mock surrender the human turned back to him, "And I'm Maximon, I'm from the south if you couldn't tell. Just a travelling bard is all, got to find the next big story." he said with a giggle.

Not knowing what 'from the south' meant, he figured it had to do with his skin color, different from the other dozen humans he had seen in the area. Hopefully it was not an issue in this part of human society.

Maximon looked at him with his hand on his hips, still smiling, "And, you are?" he asked.

Blanking at the question due to the odd characters he was meeting, he took a second to refresh, "Drix, that's my name." It meant a lot for a goblin who inheritantly knew their history, but nothing for literally anybody else.

Maximon nodded at his name, repeating it under his breath, then going right back to smirking, "Looking to head to town? We were planning on going back ourselves." he proposed.

Drix, as he decided he should be called, only nodded. Deep down, he was truly excited that their unfortunate encounter worked out fortunately for him.

Maximon chuckled a little awkwardly at his silence, scratching his head for a bit before shrugging. As if he remembered something important, he let out a small "ah" and began stripping the dead bandit in front of him of his armor. Taking it as a sign, Drix left to do the same for the female bandit near the river.

After emerging from the foliage, his first conscious human kill was in front of him. The excitement from the kill finally registered inside him, it was strong, he found it hard not to giggle at the odd feeling. Taking a deep breath, trying not to startle the only humans he has gotten acquaintance with. He began undoing the complex buckles and buttons on the bandit. Thankful that she had the decency to wear clothes underneath, he placed the armor next to him.

A small vein less hand grasped at the throat of the bandit before he could react. It pulled back and an iron amulet came with it, off the neck of the dead bandit herself.

Drix's goblin blood uncontrollably pumped in rage, "Mine!!" he growled, jumping at the hand that stole his loot. A spiked boot met his helmet, and he fell hard onto his butt.

Taking a deep breath, Drix placed his hand on his heart, he could feel it beat through his gambeson.

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The amulet was thrown at his feet, hitting the ground in front of him, he heard something in human, but could only look up to see the back of the half-elf lady. She disappeared into the foliage, toward the others.

Swearing to find a way to apologize later, he waited for his heart to calm down before inspecting the amulet closer. It was a simple iron pendant, the emblem was the shape of a shield with a bail that was clipped onto the chain.

Despite its simplicity, it seemed to activate something fiendish in his goblin blood. Typically such aggression would be saved for truly valuable things, so perhaps there was more than meets the eye to this seemingly simple pendant. Something that was strong enough to bring out some sort of instinctual reaction. Never the less, it was dangerous, he had to be careful to not let it happen again.

Turning his attention back to the pendant, he tried to gleam as much information as possible from it. There were not any signs of things he missed, nothing was made with gold or another valuable material either. Everything seemed so mundane, until he held it up to the sky. The area around it shimmered like the air above a scorching hot desert. Magic, Drix realized, was the source of this amulet's large value, something he must have instinctively and subconsciously knew.

Drix folded the necklace up into a ball, pocketing it for later. With no way to tell if it was cursed or not, he would have to wait to find a professional to be sure.

Standing up and looking back to the corpse, he did not see anything else of note, other than the shortsword on the ground. The sword seemed well kept and in good repair, no nicks or rust. He thought it would be too big for him, picking it up just to make sure. The handle fit his hand nicely, and about half a hands worth of it was left at the base. Drix thought it was odd, after all, it should be a bit bigger on him.

Then he remembered, he grew in size recently with the killing of his kin, perhaps he grew some more with the death of this bandit. Patting his gambeson, it felt far tighter on him than it did to begin with. His sleeves were shorter and nearly revealed a bit of skin, thankfully he had a bit of room left. His muscles felt more toned, he felt more flexible and his tendons seemed more elastic. He knew he was stronger, faster, he even felt wiser and more intelligent. Drix couldn't understand what was happening to him or why it was happening so fast, but he knew instinctively that it wasn't harmful. He would have to find a way to work around the detriment of growing out of things, but perhaps if he joined this group he stumbled upon, he can make the money to buy more then enough gear to do so.

With that though finished, he decided it best to take the shortsword and leather armor with him, to strike a deal with the humans. Dragging the corpse away from the river, to prevent any plagues or diseases from spreading down stream, he began his walk to the group he met just earlier.

The three of them seemed to be engaged in a conversation, forming a small circle across from Drix. The two bandits lay dead a few feet away, stripped of their leather and weapons. The human, Maximon helped their other companion stand up, holding their arm over his shoulder and supporting their weight. They talked in what seemed to not be common, in fact he had never heard it before. He hadn't heard many languages, but this one had 'personal secret language' all over it. Not trying to hide himself, and understanding they know he cant eavesdrop, he stepped out and waited for them to finish.

Maximon was first to acknowledge his presence despite the fact he was looking away, giving him a smirk and a nod before turning back. Madove, the half-elf, had definitely noticed him, but did not give enough shits to turn to him. Zenoda on the other hand, gave him a very sweet smile and a wave.

Waving back and placing the leather armor and shortsword down, he appraised the fourth member while sitting. Looking at them from closer up, he was shocked to say the least. Through the heavily blood stained fur armor that covered their body head to toe was glimpses of crimson red skin. To top it off, their animal head hood was down and their crimson hair and head were in full sight. The crimson was not blood stained skin, or even blood like at all, more so like a calm mercury fire. He had no clue what species or race they were, but it seemed to be a she.

They talked for less than a minute before Maximon turned to him. The red skinned girl turned his way as well, she had very delicate features, but a burn scar covered the bottom of her right cheek.

She looked at him appraisingly, then finally broke the silence. Despite the language barrier, he could tell it was a greeting. Her voice sounded young and undamaged by whatever gave her the scar over her cheek. Drix failed to notice the metaphorical weight that seemed to lift off the shoulders of Maximon, Zenoda and Madove at her words.

Maximon looked at him and the gear he put down, "Would you like to trade that leather gear for one of the other ones?" Drix nodded immediately.

"Which ever one is least damaged, if you don't mind." Drix requested, tilting his head at the one that only ever received a stab wound in the stomach, "and I think i deserve a bit of coins on the side for trading a relatively undamaged piece for something clearly worn by a dead man."

Maximon looked amused, but the other member he was helping stand had a face of pity on her face. Regardless, Maximon nodded.

He pretended to think for a moment before turning his head back to Drix, "Alrighty then Drix, whoever has the most damaged set of leather armor in the trade will owe the other person two gold coins, deal?"

Drix nodded his head, "In that case, i would like the armor of the one that Zenoda killed."

The half-orc looked at him with a restrained smile on her face before nodding without a word. She turned around and picked up the neatly folded armor at her feet. Madove stood next to her, she was forcing down her chuckling.

Drix figured something was up, but couldn't guess what it might be. Their loot was far more damaged than his. The wound he had made with his stiletto was only apparent if the arm was raised up, and even then it was tough to spot. They shouldn't notice it at all. It felt a little wrong to swindle pocket change out of a group he just saved the lives of, and even planned on joining, but he would pay it off very easily with contributing.

Zenoda handed the folded set to Maximon, who nodded at her. Before she let go, she seemed to say something to him, he laughed and then waved her away like he was told off. Drix picked up his own set off the ground, holding it up so its full length was in view. The stab wound he made was not visible.

Then it was Maximon's turn, he let the armor in his own hands unfold toward the ground. The surface was flawless and completely bare of any scorch marks that were previously there. Drix was about to tell him they picked a different armor from the one he wanted, but there was no stab wound on the stomach either.

Maximon pointed at the armor Drix held with his free hand, "Ah, looks like there is a stab wound and lots of mud."

Drix did a double take, shocked beyond belief at the thick mud that he only just noticed covered the back of the armor he held. The ground beneath was thick grass, there wasn't even a bit of dry dirt visible.

Shrugging, Maximon handed him the armor in his hands, "Guess you will have to work off the coins then, shame you don't have any on you." he took the armor Drix held, giving it to the girl he was holding up.

Seeming to remember something, he added, "This is Umber by the way, she is a fire genasi, our pyromaniacal druid." he chuckled at the end, leaving Drix gobsmacked at the damage-less armor he held.

The two turned and left, heading to the others. Maximon held up the armor to them in some sort of display. Drix's eyes nearly fell out of his sockets at the sight of the mud falling off without a stain.

Sighing, he mumbled under his breath, "Swindled while trying to swindle. Are people like this normal?"