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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ambrus" data-source="post: 4526041" data-attributes="member: 17691">The anxious guttersnipe beats a hasty retreat out of the room once the bound human begins to stir from his magically induced somnolence. Returning to the previous room, Dj'hân is confronted with the staggering sight of blood-splattered walls, a cloven hound carcass and a separated half-orc's body and head. The young boy stumbles back in shock, eyes wide until he bumps into the doorjamb. He closes his eyes tight and gasps for breath as he tries to calm down. Got to be strong like Mr. Giant. I'm not scared. Got to be strong like Mr. Giant...It certainly wasn't the first time that the young boy had seen dead and butchered bodies. Living on the streets and shingles of the city amidst the dregs of society quickly robbed a soul of its innocence concerning death. Having worked as one of the Little Lamms had also offered its fair share of brutal violence. Too many such sights had been lost to the depth of the young urchin's jumbled memory over the years. It was easier... no. It was necessary to let such sights fall away forgotten if one was to remain alive and sane. Tentatively, Dj'hân opens his eyes and sniffs loudly to keep himself from crying once more. Got to be strong like Mr. Giant. I'm not scared. Got to be strong like Mr. Giant...The sight of the room called to mind an abattoir in which Dj'hân had once spent a long night while seeking shelter from the cold long ago. He'd learned then to abandon feelings of fright and revulsion when survival was paramount. Moving forward, the guttersnipe tries to ignore the sight of the half-orc's bleeding neck stump as he begins to quickly search the body for useful trinkets; his survival might later depend upon them. Try as he might, the young halfling can't seem to help but let tears stream down his grimy cheeks and chin as he works in silence.</blockquote>

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