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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sparky" data-source="post: 1489128" data-attributes="member: 13681">Oliver's search turns up no more orcs. Good. That was all of 'em. I hope. Weak-kneed, he makes his shaking way back to camp, the tension and fright of the battle leaving his mouth as dry as dust. Nurthk's hand searches out Griscle and Oliver's mouth tightens. He pads quietly up behind the man and squeezes his shoulder as he moves past to look after Bastrop and Winkle. He cleans his blades and searches out his fallen bolts in silence. He watches the burning of the orcs quietly, breathing only one quiet word as he sends a withering glance at Fendric as the half-elf prays over the orcs, "Hypocrite." His jaw tightens, eyes hardening. He looks briefly at the ground, hands pausing as he readies his meager morning repast. He shakes his head and returns to his tasks. He glances at the donkey who is yet a bit skittish from dawn's excitment and the smell of roasted orc, "Easy, Bastrop. We'll be out of here soon. Go on and eat something before we leave."</blockquote>