travelerscurse

 Now that he's almost here, he has to admit he's a little nervous.  He's not scared, he doesn't think, but something thrums under his skin all the same, strong enough for Ireena to be grateful when he dismounts and sends her back through the wilds to the nearest stable, eager to be away from his skittishness.

The barrow is barely more than a hole in the ground here at the entrance, hardly a place where anyone would want to gather, cultists or not, but he doesn't doubt that there's more to it than initially meets the eye, a speculation born out as he approaches the group of adventurers already gathered around.  

He wields a spear, something that's hardly an odd choice for an elezen in the the Twelveswood, but one other member of the party might be a little surprised to see him wielding it over a bow-- not that the concept of Bards has been fully revived yet, but Opal would know from previous talking that Gustavain did know how to shoot one and less so about his propensity for sharp sticks.  And speaking of said other party member, 

"Opal!  We meet again!" he can't help but grin ear to ear, unable to stop the nerves from transforming immediately into excitement.  The other two adventurers might share a look-- Gustavain has been making a name for himself more around Gridania, but Opal's name is still known much further and wider at this point.