[center][color=00BFFF][h3][u][b]Magnus Arhakaine[/b][/u][/h3][/color]
[sub][color=00BFFF]Location:[/color] The Crossed Swords Tavern
[color=00BFFF]Interacting With:[/color] Kyra[/sub][/center][hr][hr]

	[color=00BFFF]“Huh …”[/COLOR] Came Magnus’ bemused reply. Not at the woman, Kyra’s, response. Truth be told, he’d long gotten used to women reacting thusly to any and all of his propositions. And neither was it her pet gorilla’s threats that led to his current state of confusion. The man looked like a flesh golem built only for violence, so it stood to reason that his primary communicatory setting was ‘intimidation’. Besides, the man obviously answered to the huntress, so the swordsman dismissed him, and the shite pouring from his gob, as largely inconsequential. He didn’t deal with lackeys. 

	No, what puzzled Magnus most was the caretaker’s response. What kind of right thinking man, drunk and surly to boot, took an elbow to the ribs hard enough to throw him from his feet, then got up to [i]apologise[/i] to his attacker? Magnus considered himself well travelled, his boots racking up a fair mileage on the course of his adventuring career, but never, not in all his days, had he ever seen a person act such. It was probably the least likely, most unhuman response a drunk had ever had to being struck he’d ever witnessed. And this was just after the old man had snapped at Magnus for asking [i]questions[/i]!

	[color=00BFFF][i]Ok, now I’m seriously considering leaving Salarn to the undead. Strikes me that the people of this bizarre place would probably thank the bonewalkers for putting an end to their miserable existence while getting their faces chewed off.[/i][/color]

	It was almost an attractive thought, but Magnus couldn’t in good conscience abandon this place to its plight yet, no matter how strange and unwelcoming the people were. With a bad tempered grunt and a string of mumbled curses, he followed the huntress out of the tavern. 

	With his longer stride he caught her up quickly, and when he did he fell into line with her, matching her pace, though he wisely chose to not try and stop her. Seemed like laying hands on this Kyra was a quick way to go about getting a dagger in the throat. 

	[color=00BFFF]“Look, I know I don’t make a great first impression, and you might be waiting on me to apologise,”[/color] which he didn’t, [color=00BFFF]“and that cryptkeeper might’a been deserving of a good elbow-shiv to the sternum,”[/color] which he doubted, [color=00BFFF]“but the people of this hamlet will probably be the ones to suffer if we don’t reach some sort of accord,”[/color] which they shouldn’t. They were nearing the constable’s office, and Magnus wasn’t sure how willing she’d be to put up with him when she reached her destination. He’d have to make his pitch succinct.

	[color=00BFFF]“I’d be just as lief leaving you to do you, as you’d not doubt be seeing me drown in a puddle, but the people living here are being threatened by [i]something[/i], and I reckon we’d save more lives if we pooled our resources. Not suggesting we tie our fates together until the end of days, our even that we become bosom buddies. All I’m saying is that we’re both here, and it looks to me that we both want to help. It’d be damned churlish of us if we don't at least [i]try [/i]and work with some kinda shared purpose. After all, what sounds worse, having to speak to someone you mildly dislike for ten minutes, or risk this hamlet facing devastation unchecked erelong?”[/color]

	That was it. That was his offer. Not a big ask, but if the Huntress could tell him to go bugger his own arsehole if she wished. If she did it meant he’d have to go back to investigating Salarn’s mysteries on his own, which wasn’t an attractive prospect, but he’d long gotten used to doing things that he didn’t want to.