Nodding at Cedric's small outburst, Elms stared thoughtfully at the wayhouse that his former battle-allies had just been marched into. "Something isn't right here. I was watching the battle from the trees for a few minutes before it became safe for me to get to that huge barricade... they were both into it, neck deep. That young red-headed lad was a bloody daemon with that weapon of his. I saw him put an end to four or five of those Treylor dogs with my own eyes! They can't think that there was any treachery involved... can they? But what the hell else would they be dragged away like that for?".
As Elms is thinking, Malaroc approaches and claps him on the shoulder. Looking up, Elms nods at the man. "Urgent, you say? More urgent that this business right here?" He gestures towards the way house. "You didn’t see, did you? They’ve locked up two of the men that we stood shoulder to shoulder with earlier!" Malaroc was speaking but Elms, still brooding, only heard part of what the man said.
All thoughts of merriment aside, Elms gently unwrapped Darling's arm from around his shoulder and hauled himself to his feet. Despite the fair amount of ale they had put away, his mind seemed clear. The strange procession had produced a remarkably sobering effect. "I'm not bloody happy.". Elms spat in the dirt, a scowl showing on his scarred face. "I shouldn't be getting involved in all this, I have my own job to do, but this isn't right. Those lads in there saved lives and they've been thrown into some make-shift cell for nothing.".
As Malaroc turns and leaves, looking somewhat pre-occupied, Elms turns back to Darling and Cedric, as he scratched his thick stubble with a grubby finger tip, a lopsided smile appears on his face. "I'm going to spring them out of there.". Elms chuckled as Darling and Cedric said nothing, absorbing what he said, and he raises a hand ""Now don't get me wrong, ol' Elms here has every respect for the law of the land... more than you know, really... but this is no law I ever heard of. Locking up heroes? This is a joke and I ain't laughing.".
Eager to recruit an extra body for his newly-determined cause, Elms realises that Malaroc wasn’t listening to him and, looking left and right, spots the man disappearing quickly to the rear of the inn. Checking his sword, his bolas on his belt and his purse, Elms sets off after the man at a light jog.