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    1. Hanu 10 yrs ago

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Having heard all the extreme and genuine threats and insults being hurled around the room and seeing the solemn faces of the deadly serious warriors, he speaks in a markedly smaller voice. "Uh... there shouldn't be any need for bloodshed or iron bars between us. ...Let's head for that bunker." His words are much less warm than they have been up to this point, but he is showing no signs of being unwilling to comply.
His eyes widen, his nostrils flare, and you can see the tension in his bearing as he prepares to hop away from the advancing guard. "Wait, wait! Hold on! I've done nothing but inform you on a threat you didn't even know existed ever since I figured out you lot weren't demons yourselves. I'm not interested in going anywhere in your fort alone. Running into another pack of edgy guards looking to squash anything that moves isn't something I want. That's why I was willing to tag along with your buddy here," he says, jerking his thumb at his erstwhile supervisor. "I really did only want something to eat, but if you're going to be stingy about it, I'll wait here quietly. Just keep the fancy wrist-wear to yourselves. I'm not going to have my hands bound if those things come knocking tonight."
"Hoo, you guys must have even more sand in your ears than I do! Or maybe you just weren't listening. Why would you need to interrogate me? I just told you everything I know. And if you're going to keep me here, you could at least feed me." He turns to the guard you appointed to watch over him, "Looks like it's you and me, pal. Where do they keep the mess hall around here? Come on, let's go find it." He waves his hand for the guard to follow and blathers on as he heads for the stairs, "I could, by myself, eat one of those big baskets of fruit rich-folk send to one another when they want to give a gift without putting any thought into it. You have those in these parts, don't you?"
"Well, there'd have to be enough to wreck a whole naval fleet and a port town, wouldn't there? It was an army!" he exclaimed as if it was obvious. "There are only so many places to run on an island, you know. As I've said, they were marching North when I caught sight of the devils and they seemed to be hitting anything remotely important along the way. There's not much North of Osbale except some mountains and lots of sea-water beyond those. I figured they'd move East to the Swamp next, coming after all its special plants and such. Although, now that I think on it, I'm not sure if that's the sort of thing their kind even cares about..." he said as if it was the first time he'd ever had a thought on the matter that wasn't steeped in terror. "Oh! And what's more, they had a monster like something I'll wager you've never seen in all your days," he proclaimed, shifting his tone to the relish of a boastful survivor of some great danger. "There was with them a giant crab-demon. It went along on eight legs, tearing trees up by the roots with its huge pinchers, eating them whole. The gnashing of its teeth might as well have been a great many swords in battle. It must've had a fire in its belly because it had an orange light to it and there was thick, black smoke pouring out from under its shell. And strangest of all, the demons were pouring some potion onto the steady trail of shit it left behind and walking on it! Eeeugh!" He shudders in a mixture of horror and disgust. "That was more than reason enough for me to make myself scarce, so I went as far as my feet could take me and then I... hitched a ride on a ship bound for the mainland. When we landed in the port, I remembered what happened to Wakefield and I didn't even stay long enough to learn its name, I just kept running. Never seen the mainland except for on a map. I had no idea how big the desert was. Yours was the first sight of a civilized building I'd had since I entered this sandy waste, but it looked shut up for the night and the storm was getting feisty, so I quietly let myself in. All the awfulness with the demons had me on a bit of an edge, you understand. Didn't expect to find anyone awake until the morning. That's why I tried running away when I saw you." Gods, this thing loves to talk when you let it.
*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!"
If conditions were different, you could not say with any confidence that laying hands on this creature would be an easy task. However, fate has granted you the upper hand and you are able to use the environment to your advantage. Cornering him at last, you snatch up the tail of the beast, though it takes you longer than you would have liked, surrounded by peers as you are. Holding your quarry aloft, you are about to begin barking inquiries in his direction, when he nimbly swings and latches onto your upper arm! Using the moment of shock, his tail wriggles free like an eel and he proceeds to deftly scuttle over your armor, burying himself somewhere under your cloak. You have the odd feeling that there are four hands latched onto your harness, though only one creature now hangs from you. From beneath the cape, a muffled pleading like that of a petulant child issues forth. "Hey, hey, hey! I don't wanna fight! I need your help! You're a guard, aren't you? Guard me!"
"What? No, it's true! You mean you didn't hear what happened to Wakefield? Or the Osmere Navy? Demons destroyed them both! They were on their way to Osbale when I fled. They had big, dark armor covered in spikes and glowie blue eyes!" He mimics wide open eyes with his hands at his face and blinks hard as he says this. "If you haven't heard about it, then they could be on their way here now and you wouldn't know until it was too late!" When he finally shuts up, he notices the commotion outside the bunkhouse. "Eeek! That's them! They're here! They're heeeere! Eeeeee!" Ducking the grasping hands of the guards, he clambers up the nearest stack of crates to cower in trembling fear.
Looking from the brandished man-cleaver, then back to you, the pregnant pause is shattered by an "Oooh!" that is startlingly loud in the cramped room. "Can you help me?!" the creature asks in a shrill voice. As quiet as he was before, he now becomes equally opposite. "I've been running from some demons for a while now and I'm looking for a safe place to stay! Your little fort here looked sturdy enough from the outside." Testing the hardness of the floor by stomping one leather-padded foot on the flagstones, he is seemingly unthreatened by the axe in your hand and the dire nature of his situation in general as he rambles. Without waiting for a response from the doorway-filling warrior, he relaxes, adopting a casual, slouching stance, and continues, "Sorry about that little trick earlier, hee-hee, I thought you might have been one of them. You're big enough to be, anyway. Ha! HA! But I don't think you are. Your eyes are different from theirs." He squints at you, rubbing his fuzzy chin, then apparently becomes more interested in smelling his own fingers.
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