Hammond sat once more, smiling at the growing number of strangers joining him. Perhaps his luck was turning. He inclined his head at the pyromancer, a show of thanks for the warmth of her flame. He once again gestured to the name carved into his chest, tapping it twice before pointing a thumb inward to indicate it referred to himself.

Once he made that point, he decided to try to communicate further. He pointed north, into the settlement, he then mimics an archer drawing a bow and firing. With a grunt of pain, he yanked one of the arrows out, and held the point to his forehead. He raised a hand and held out four fingers. Four times they had slain him. He barely survived the fifth attempt. He brought out his only weapon, a club. Clearly of no use against such opponents. His poorly shield wouldn't fare much better. He shrugged, smiling still.