"FOR THE LAST TIME DON'T CALL ME MIDGET! It's insulting me enough being dragged around like a doll by stone age heathens."

It was getting old him being called an assassin or one that helped them. But did the elves listen no, they were almost as stubborn as the damn dwarfs. Seeing a Human among the collaboration of purple giants was promising though his situation went from bad to worse as he was thrust in a whole damnable mess of these pointy ear giants.

"As I said before. I WAS WORKING ON THE SEWERS INTAKE/OUTAKE. ITS DOCUMENTED."

Mitonk's flailing increased as he heard being called trogg again. It was beyond getting old and it need to stop quicker than a lite fuse. Glaring back at the captain letting her snap some discipline into his captors. It was actually quite amusing considering the circumstance. Chuckling some as he remained dangling as a prized boar.

"Listen up you purple mess let me go. And I have you know you didn't search me good enough. I could have some spring-loaded doodad or gadget that could spring out of my rear end with bomb. So they didn't do a good job of that. I will be re-compensated for my losses its only fair after you threaten me countless times. Being called a trogg is calling you a satyr so shut your mouths about that its getting old and fast. Lastly...LET ME DOWN I'M GETTING DIZZY!."

Hoping his little rant would get him down so he could at least stand on his own to feet. Or get him enough attention to make a statement which seemed to be arguing which brew is better with a dwarf.