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Anchor shifts the chairs he's holding to rest upon his arms, as if he were trying to carry all of his grocery bags in one trip, and then attempts to help Marcon move the table outside.
Grabbing a couple chairs himself, Anchor pauses, realizing what was just said.

"My friend, I don't believe any of us ever mentioned the keep being empty? What remains of Lady Nandar's Guard are still within the Keep, tending to their final duties."

"A small group may be best, yes. I'd be willing to take the lead in negotiations if we find that they're agreeable to them. To be entirely clear, however, I do not want to offer peace with them only to have it be a trap. Station your soldiers wherever you'd like, but I would request that not an arrow be fired until I am dead at the table. I promise to do all that I can for your town, and it's people, Xolkin."

Anchor nodded, as if remembering something.

"A table! We should move one, and as many chairs as we might need, outside. Show them upfront that we would rather talk."

Anchor stopped mid chew, looked to Kella and then around the room to the others. Swallowing a mouthful of peanuts a bit too early, Anchor responded.

"My apologies if my silence came off as anything other than attention towards the situation at hand. I agree with my friends, though. Keeping hold of this town is assuredly too much for the forces at hand."

"My original mission to Nightstone was to oversee talks between the people of the town and the Elves of Ardeep. Warfare is not my forte, but perhaps I could help negotiate with the orcs for safe passage from the town, if they are agreeable to that as Marcon suggested?"

"As to the matter of finding the town's previous inhabitants, I fear the orc band has made that situation more complicated. The guard in the keep said that the townsfolk may have retreated to the caves in the north. Hopefully the orcs have not found them before us.

Anchor thought for a moment after that.

"Oh, that would be embarrassing. If the escaping townsfolk found a band of orc mercenaries in their retreat, who then took the job of taking the town back from the attacking giants. Very unlikely, but almost as unlikely as a town being beset by giants, goblins, and orcs all within such a short period of time."

Anchor moved closer to the table along with his friends, choosing not to sit, and began to eat some of his own rations. He glanced between Marcon and the Captain, still trying to get a read on how much danger the town is in.
Anchor awoke to Captain Alassander's shouting and pulled himself so that he was sitting on the side of bed. Normally such a call might inspire some haste, but from what he saw of the Captain's personality last evening Anchor doubted there was much truth to the : incoming orc attackers. :

Taking the time to stretch out his sore leg before dressing and putting on his brace, Anchor for a brief moment thought that he could smell the salt of a cool sea breeze. Something had changed since yesterday, and something had noticed him.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Anchor grabbed his gear and headed downstairs to find out what exactly was going on.

Anchor gives one last look at the new group and then follows Tortetarte into the Inn.

"No objections from me."

Anchor replied as he looked between the towns new owners and his own group, unsure of where this day has led him.

"I still pLan on heading out to retrieve the towns previous inhabitants once we are rested, though. They may have issues with this occupation."

"I'm not so sure of that..."

Anchor raised his voice, calling to whoever dispatched the last goblin from inside the inn.

"Come out, friend! The town itself has been cleared of these scavengers!"
Anchor, too, makes his way closer to the new arrivals, going over the details of the attack on the town in his head. These horsemen may have more information to help figure out what is going on.

As Marcon calls out to them, Anchor raises a hand in greeting.
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