[color=red][h3]Drizzak[/h3][/color][hr]The red-garbed goblin to the compliments and the banter as if he were a child being inducted into the world of diplomacy. His beady, luminous eyes stared on in bewilderment as the warm-bloods and tree-folk chattered of matters far above his current attention spans allowance. Drizzak wasn't exactly the most educated of smallfolk, but that didn't mean he wasn't smart in his own way. It just so happens that it was not this way.

The music from the string-lady's instrument started and his ears rung. What was this? Where were the drums, to make the heart race on the eve of war? Where were the Shriekers to call his name and revere him for the mighty beast he was? What was this twanging, plucking racket? The finer arts lost to him, Drizzak groaned and yapped.

[color=red]"Too slow. Too soft. Need loud! Need fast!"[/color] He stood upon his stool, balancing perilously as he waggled a bony claw. [color=red]"String-lady! You know 'Blood In Mouth Make Happy'? Maybe know 'See Me Teeth'? They fast and loud. Very fast and loud. Make chest go thumpa."[/color]

One of the goblin's ears twitched as he sat back down on the stool. [color=red]"We sit too long. When we go fight? Drizzak teeth itch."[/color] The goblin tapped his claw on his chin, below his maw of razor-sharp fangs. He fidgeted and shifted awkwardly, looking around at his company. The hood of his dragon-skin had fallen back to reveal a short crop of bright orange hair some few minutes ago. Overall he couldn't have been much taller than 4 feet, but his stature was diminutive. He was quite the sight, to put it in plain terms. And rightfully so. Not everyday you see a dragon in the flesh.