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When she saw the rippling energy she let go, not realizing that his transformation would be much more dramatic than Drake's. It was not her intention to reveal his secret, so when the commotion began and Marcello started running she cussed to herself and ran after him. If she was to make another mistake that night she should at least make sure he didn't run right back into the den of bandits. She waved a hand at the members of the camp, as if urging them to stop but she didn't expect it would do much even if she spoke the word, so she kept running.

Kerik looked away when Katja yelled, glancing and smiling at the orc just in time to hear his parting words. Then he looked to where he expected the doctor would be; far be it from a soon-to-be-dead drunkard to care about the drama in the encampment. A small part of him regretted being too drunk to walk straight but he doubted it made much difference.

The way he ran, his hood had flopped down, revealing horns that were very similar to those of a Nubian Ibex, and were black in color, as well as his pointed ears; he was a Cambion, most definitely. Marcello tugged his cloak off to reveal large wings, and with a single flap he was in the air; the branches however, limited his flight and he came falling back down, rolling before jumping back onto his feet to continue his escape. All he knew was he had to get away from them, and for him that meant stumbling and slamming into trees, his tail squirming behind him.

Drake was certainly not going anywhere; orders were orders, and so he was running and weaving between trees, snapping the low hanging branches in his way, "Careful, woman!" He barked at Tara, "Those ones are known for charming humans, especially women. If he begins to speak cover your ears!"

"You misunderstand!" Marcello yelled, before stumbling over another root. Drake was nearly caught up at this point, and so he opened his wings again, attempting to escape in the air.

Tara was no stranger to running for long periods of time, and so was likely very close to catching up as well. Certain that the orc would catch the blind cambion she made a desperate and distinctly unfriendly move toward the former. She spun, used what few seconds she had to settle her footing while bringing her shield ahead of her and attempting to slam the massive man (almost) head on. She was certain she'd fail in dropping him but was hoping the right pressure applied to his midsection would at least delay him.

She had no lethal intent for either of them but, then, neither of them really knew that. "I'm sorry!"

She certainly did a good job knocking the wind out of him; he dropped to one knee, letting out a deep exhale and coughing hard. It gave her and Marcello a good few seconds to run ahead. But when Drake was on his feet, the half breed looked absolutely pissed off. Which really wasn't good for anyone, "You damn sure will be sorry once I get my hands on you!" he roared, then broke out into a run again after them, this time taking out his hammer again.

Marcello heard Drake's yell and just tried to shoot right through the treetops, slamming into the heavier branches and getting himself and his cloak tangled up in them, "Just let me go! I didn't want any trouble!" He fought to get himself untangled, one of his wings wedged awkwardly in between two close branches.

Tara stepped back from Drake after her reckless maneuver. She kept her shield lifted and narrowed her eyes, able to hear Marcello's struggle but trying not to let her guard down near the half orc she just aggravated. "Its not worth it." she warned. Truth be told the warrior didn't know what she'd do against an opponent like him. A large beast was one situation but someone with similar intelligence was another. Regardless she remained, hoping that at least Marcello would find a way out of the branches.

"Orders are orders." Drake growled at her, "And Katja doesn't ever just hunt things like him for no reason. She has a purpose for wanting him with us."

Marcello struggled in the branches, but he did fall out, hitting the ground with a grunt. He stood up again, but by then Drake had rushed forward, not even bothering with Tara, and when the young man tried to run he grabbed his horn, yanking him backwards, "Nice try!" He practically threw the young demon into a tree, watching it splinter with the force of impact. Marcello crumpled up at the base of the tree, unconscious. Drake glared at her, "See? Problem one solved. Now I suggest you get into that camp before I take solving you into my own hands."

Tara winced at the sight of poor Marcello getting thrown into the tree. The leather of her gloves creaked against the grip of her sword and she looked back at Drake. She wasn't going to continue fighting the orc outright but the warrior was a tad too angry to let it slide in silence. "Oh yeah? Problem solved! Now ye' just got another injured person for yer doc' to deal with. Couple of bat wings, extra tender for th' lads back at camp!" She flushed with that anger, though it was likely impossible to see. The traveler waved the sword in the unconscious lad's direction while continuing. "With that approach I wonder if Katja doesn't just want some medicine an' a pair of sodding 'orns to decorate th' Lord's summer home!"

"May the cat eat you, n' may a devil eat the cat!" By then the woman was trembling. She realized this and paused, lowering her arms a little bit, almost in reflection of how bad a decision that was.

Drake stood there, processing her words. And then he took very large steps, grabbing Tara's arm which held the sword and plucking her right up off the ground. He yanked her face close to his own, his brown eyes staring into her own.

"Do not. Speak of Katja. In that manner." He growled at her, his voice low and warning. The grip on her arm was tight and probably painful, but he didn't seem to be going anywhere, "Don't you think, if she had anything out for the demon, she would have it out for a beast like me too? Last I checked, humans don't pick and choose what they hate. If they hate demons, they usually hate my kind as well." He reached up, plucking the sword from her hands and just holding onto her, "As for my methods, what would you expect. My kind are angry and violent. It's your fault for making me upset like this. Katja has no influence over how I fight." Still holding her by her arm, he walked over and picked Marcello up in his free hand (he had slid her sword into his belt), holding the creature over his shoulder, "His injuries will be nothing for our doctors back at camp. Elven magic makes healing simple wounds quite simple, though to be fair no one knows if it works on demons like him. We have no need for the kind of medicine pathetic villagers and witches can make."

His eyes slid towards her again, "Would you like to see just how well they can work?" He was squeezing her arm a little tighter than before, nearly on the verge of breaking it, "First hand, of course." He grinned at his own sadistic pun as he walked through the trees, heading back towards camp.

Tara grimaced when yanked up. At that point she wasn't on active defense so it wasn't that difficult. She glowered back at him for the majority of his words. "It wouldn't be the worst I've gotten." The warrior glanced down. There was a small degree of guilt she felt for her outburst but Drake wasn't making it easier for her to come to terms with that. And she still had no desire to return to camp.

Despite the increasing pain she still managed to get out, "If you're bloodthirsty that's one thin', but if you're just doing all this because of what you are you're putting yourself in a box."

"I do it because its whats in my head. It feela right." He grunted, carrying her through the circle and back into the camp.

Katja's eyes widened at the sight of them, "Drake!!"

"Hey, you said catch him. I caught him, right?" He dumped Marcello on the ground in front of Katja, "Sure enough though, hes a Cambion. Half-breed, no wonder I like the kid so much."

Despite the very real risk of immediate, painful retribution upon speaking Tara added to Drake's comment about Marcello. "H-he had no intent but to flee. Like a frightened rabbit." The warrior looked up at Drake. Her spare arm trembled slightly from the discomfort and pain; she reached up and, gently enough not to really hurt, tapped his side with her boot. "Let me down. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know." He rumbled, glaring at her. He didn't look like he planned on releasing her, but once he looked at Katja and saw the displeased face, he just dropped her back onto the ground, stomping off to a tent in the unit.

"I apologize for him," Katja sighed, picking Marcello up; without her heavy armor, it was clear she did indeed have a limp, though perhaps from previous wounds, "He's a very...interesting one. A half-human, half orc...product of war. He lived through quite a bit before we found him, but he was young when he joined us." She smiled a bit as if looking back on fond memories; meanwhile, she was carrying Marcello to the medical tent, "Do you have any injuries? It appears you two had a bit of a scuffle..."

Tara dropped with only a small waver, securing her footing and watching him go quietly. She rubbed her arm and sighed, unhappy with circumstances but not certain how to treat the large one just yet. She also realized he may have forgotten her sword was in his belt. Or perhaps he kept it as a way to spite her.

Either way, she turned her attention to Katja. She followed the other woman, honestly rather surprised there weren't more consequences to her actions. "Bruising, maybe. Its fair; I delivered a blow to his abdomen just before that. If he's the sort to hide pain, you should probably check for bruised ribs." Tara paused, frowning. It sounded boastful but she hadn't meant it that way. "Its probably not the case... but I don't know him."

"Being that we just had a wild goose chase I have to ask, what'll you be doing with him?" This time she meant Marcello, indicated by her glance in the unconscious boy's direction.

"He's very confident and doesn't wear armor, I wouldn't be surprised if you caused injury." She looked over her shoulder at Marcello's face, "Well, I'll have out doctor heal him up, depending on if such magic can be used on his kind...I hadn't expected him to be a demon, I simply thought he was possibly an elf, or a fae spirit... you could feel the energy from him when we had first entered that house, though we had no mage with us to identify it as demonic magic."

Katja laid him down on a cot once they got into the tent, "If he would like, we will most likely invite him to join us... though he would serve little as a warrior, for his blindness, we can have him study under our mages to learn more advanced magic. But something tells me he won't like that too much. He seems to be a traveler, I can't imagine him abandoning his wandering for protection. I surely wouldn't."

Tara clenched her hands into fists again, coiling and uncoiling as she listened. She wasn't angry with Katja, her gaze not even focused on Marcello much despite the fact that she had her head turned toward him. "...Probably not. At least, not like this."

Kerik smirked over at them, not seeming to care much that they'd just brought someone else in. "Heyyy guysh. When's my interrogatin' begin? I'm dyin' here!" The drunkard giggled; he would've made that comment regardless of whether or not the poor doctor had already healed him.

The doctor had healed him, in hopes that it would shut him up, but judging on the elven mans irritated face that wasn't the case. Katja rolled her eyes at Kerik, turning away from Marcello, "We'll be interrogating you when you're sober. I want you to feel every single bone in your body as they break, courtesy of your wonderful friend Drake."

The doctor had moved to inspect Marcello, frowning, "Well he's certainly broken some ribs, and his tail appears to have some breaks in it as well...He's lucky it's not the wings." He turned Marcello's head gently, examining his horns and then he just, very casually, broke the tip off: Drake had really done a number on him with just one throw "Was it Drake who did this? Demon horns are very hard to fracture, the tip of this was nearly completely shattered..."

"Yes, Drake did it. Lost his temper, I suppose."

The doctor wrinkled his nose, "I'm not sure if I can fix this....his kind are highly resistant to the magic of us higher elves."

"Do your best." Katja nodded, then looked to Tara, "Come with me. We can find you a tent, get you someplace to rest. You must be exhausted."

"What? Lame. I want a... a refund!" Kerik pulled at his cord bindings to little avail. "I thought I could... pffhh..." The bandit leaned back in resignation.

Tara glanced at Kerik but paid little mind to his words. She remained reserved, thoughtful during the discourse between the doctor and Katja. Then when addressed she perked up, looked back over and said, "I'd appreciate it." She wanted to inform them of her problem but, after what happened, still felt a bit of mistrust toward the Knights of the People. As long as her bag was intact, perhaps the warrior could take a page from the bandit captive's book and find some sleep that way.

Katja lead her through the camp, looking around as they walked. She was waved down as they walked, but raised up a finger and shook her head; the man sunk into the tent larger than the others; probably where Katja would be most often, it would have a table and her maps, room to consult with others.
She walked nearer to the back, where there was a gathering of tents; most appeared to be empty, or at least their occupants would be sleeping, which was to be expected at this hour. She seemed to find one suitable, walking into the tent, "Since it isn't in use, we felt no need to set up a cot or anything. They're just near the back of the tent, with some blankets. There's a lantern there too." She had gone to step out when she paused, "Would you like to be woken for the interrogation?"

Tara followed Katja quietly, taking in her surroundings as they went. If she was to assist these knights in their mission it'd probably help to be well-acquainted with the place. She wondered if the lot had set down tents loosely or if there was a method to the camp's construction. Then she noticed the man and the militia leader's gesture, smirking a bit. It'd been a long time passing through those mountainous north-lands, and very little of it was spent with other people so the little things became charming to her.

Then they reached the tent the warrior was to stay in; she cast about, rather pleased at its size compared to her smaller survival tent. She listened to the knight while taking off her helmet. "It'll do nicely. Thank you." She removed her coif just before the last question was asked with a grimace; some of her hair got loose from the bun and caught in some of the rivets. "...Do you intend to torture him, or is it something you just say to cause apprehension?"

"I have no intentions to torture him, if he gives answers suitable...however, I leave any motivation to Drake. As you can see, he has a very short temper...the young man will most likely not walk out of this situation alive. Even if he gave reliable answers. Can't have an enemy who knows of our camps location just waltzing out..." Katja sighed, her hands clasped behind her back. And then the woman smiled again, "Do tell us if you need anything, Miss Tara. I myself don't sleep very often, so I am usually in the large tent towards the center of the circle."