Sam heard footsteps. He heard shuffling. He heard voices, too, and he grew curious. Most curious. Perhaps the others had arrived already - or perhaps the authorities. He moved silently to the corner of the tavern and listened in on everything he heard. There wasn't much.

The voice of a slith came to him, asking somebody to identify themselves. The species' voices were quite distinctive - he remembered a number of them had come to him during his early years working under the King of Armitas. They still seemed to sound very human, but there was a slightly colder feel to them, he felt - and he wished he had such a beautiful style of voice for himself. Or at least the opportunity to learn to mimic it.

These were clearly adventurers. The voice didn't sound weak-hearted to him like so many of the peasantry and nobility had. He felt that he should... Welcome them. A quick dart around the tavern gave him the opportunity to climb on top of what remained of the roof, where he stood silently in the moonlight, very intentionally casting a weak shadow down upon the one who had first spoken - the lizard. He would get to know them by their initial responses. If they drew weapons or ran, he knew that they would be of some (perhaps limited) use to him.

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