[H2]Charnud of Ingiros[/H2]

The brawl had ended just as quickly as it had begun. It had been a storm of fists, insults, and racial epithets, but it now seemed to be rooted in something further than simple prejudice.

“Well, sorry about that,” he looked down at a Dhasath man who had fallen face-first onto the floor when Charnud used his own momentum against him to make him trip. He offered a hand, which was quietly accepted.

Now, the entire situation has begun to resolve itself. Humans seemed to be perceived as a troublesome bunch that committed acts of terrorism, raided for supplies, and committed wanton murder for no reason. Honestly, the description reminded him of home.

And now, Dusk was offering their services. As a group. Many of them did possess a particular set of skills, and some were trained soldiers, so it was probable that out of the people in this town, they’re the only ones capable of stopping these attacks.

Charnud, for his part, wondered if those hillmen had degenerated into barbarism or simply justified themselves through the good old maxim of “we have to survive.”

He slunk to the bar counter, noticeably less scuffled and huffed than the rest. “Think of it as recompense for the damage that had been done to your establishment,” he said to the barman, smoothly continuing what Dusk had said. He motioned over the destroyed tables, smashed up bottles, and bleeding men and women still on the floor. “It is only right, as the Great Maker rewards those who make up for their mistakes. That being said, we have been looking for employment. Perhaps, should we prove our worth in defeating these malignant raiders on the hills, maybe we could… continue, as my friend here said, handling trouble, in a permanent arrangement. After all, you don’t have a sheriff anymore.”