*THUD!* Goradh's broad back smacks into a wall of cold, gray brick, but there is no soft cushion of monkey-flesh to lessen the impact. Feeling the backwards rush, he instinctively flung himself from you before you could grind him into a pulpy mess. He dashes to the door. Len is ready and immediately braces himself in a solid stance that could stop a rushing bull, but swings his arms through empty air as the little imp slides between the arch of legs. However, what transpires next is most curious. Instead of bolting for the battlements as one might expect, all observe him peeking back into the room around one of Len's legs, eyes wide with fright. "Whoa, what happened to not harming me?! I'm not lying! There were devils marching North for Osbale when I left my home! It's probably all a pile of rubble by now.... And how could I be distracting you from an attack if I'm warning you one might be coming?! I only came here because this place looked safe, but if you're going to keep trying to squish me, I'll take my chances in the desert!"