[center][color=gold][h2]Drizzak[/h2][/color][/center][hr]The action had taken almost everything out of the little goblin, now thoroughly tuckered out and in great need of catching his breath. Drizzak heaved and wheezed, he was not in the best shape he could be in. Sure, he could have toned it down a bit, but he had to make a good first impression on those around him. His teammates needed to know that he was not to be trifled with and that he was to be relied on in dangerous situations. He was not going to be carried around like some high-born's pocket pet. No sir. He wheezed to himself as he laughed, but his concentration broke as Sana yelled over at him.

There was a pain in his chest and neck as he watched the severed head sail through the air over to him and hit the ground with a series of wet squelches. One of the other baddies had met a quick end, by the looks of it. A jagged, painful separation of head and shoulders. Drizzak examined with slight interest but also slight disdain. He could have made a cleaner cut, probably. Probably. He wheezed out a growl as the lifeless, glossy eyes of the bandit stared him down from half-lidded sockets. The fact that this head had the gall to look him in the eye, even though he was dead, made Drizzak even angrier than he was before. He didn't know why, or how. He just felt a burning, like bile in his throat threating to spew forth.

Drizzak had only one option. He screamed at the head. His voice was shrill and harsh as it exited his mouth, but he could feel the heat of his anger spilling out at the severed head. The head looked on in dumbfounded fear as he continued to scream his already burning lungs out. He was stronger than this head. He was stronger than anyone's head! And he would scream louder and louder until everyone knew that! He took a breath, turning and crouching to get into a more optimal screaming position before letting loose with another volley of vicious vocalisation. But this time was different.

Instead of sound emerging from his frightening death-trap of a maw, a small gout of flame puffed out and singed the head's facial hair. Drizzak immediately stopped himself, throat raw and aching, to stare wide-eyed at the small black patch where the head's neck touched the ground.

What.

What the hell just happened. Drizzak shook his head and rubbed at his throat, before kicking the head away quickly, hoping none had seen. Confusion ran rampant through his skull as he advanced back toward the others in a limp. He must have imagined that. Bloodloss and all. He was seeing things. Just like he was seeing a dead man walk before him. He stopped himself and his thoughts as he came across Little Blue Lady flying out of an alleyway between the buildings. Within the alley was the Blue Robey Man, Mortosh. He looked a bit worse for wear than before. Drizzak couldn't help but squint at him as he approached and offered a hand.

[color=gold]"Drizzak help blue-man. Get him to people make feel better. Come."[/color]

He held his hand out to the strange smelling man, covered in blood and flashing his horrible knife-filled smile.

He looked trustworthy.

[@Billsomething]