The half-orcs look at each other, more than a little baffled at this group's fast forgiveness. They shrug and sit. "I am called Theven. I am a cleric of the Wind God." "And I'm Hask." "We were scouting for our tribe when this storm caught us by surprise. I remembered this hole was somewhere near here, but in the storm I could not be sure. Halor, great though he is, does not treat his servants any better than any other."
"Huh. I think that Duiz was rather enjoying the sandstorm, actually. He was really worked up. Ahem. Sorry about that, really, I am." Hask is quite sincere in his apology.
"... And I as well." Theven does not seem so certain that these travelers are as hospitable as they seem.