[h1][color=olive]Franco[/color][/h1][hr] 
[@Inertia] 

	A flurry of quills fired in the direction of the new-coming voice. Franco darted up from where he was crouched in the underbrush, the hairs of his beard stuck up into long quills. The hairs on his forearms transformed into razors. Eight long, thick spines shot up from his knuckles, four on each hand. This dumb sonofabitch had to be new around here. Franco sighed. The kid looked fairly harmless. He obviously just didn't get how things worked around here. Franco felt almost sorry for him, but he didn't let it show. He shrugged and stood up straight. As he did, the quills laid down flat as hairs again. 

"Rule number one, kid," he said in a gravely, tough voice. "Don't sneak up on anybody. It's a great way to get a faceful of something awful nasty." Franco waved his right hand. A quill shot out from his forearm and stuck in a palm tree ten feet southwest of where they were standing. "Site Borea is that way, kid. It's a pretty short walk. Just follow the river down. It's hard to miss." He pointed past the palm tree. The trickle of water could be heard through the rustle of the leaves in the trees.