"Caerth, Heart-of-Oak," the large half-orc introduces himself to Maur with both name and druidic title, still wary.
He shrugs in response to the dwarf's remarks as they pass the chasm. The druid suspects that these cultists are not very tactical, instead relying on stealth and numbers.
Somehow the dwarf reminds him of a villager that, so long ago, made his life impossible when Caerth attempted to make contact after living in the woods with his mentor for years. Despite not looking anything like the sturdy short dwarf walking just ahead, the young man had a similar air of confidence, arrogance maybe, and he was the worst bully of the lot.
Realizing that, the half-orc grins a little. How much things have changed! Of course, he still feels ill at home amongst villagers and people in general, but he has come to be accepted by his companions and at least tolerated by the townsfolk. And despite his own caution towards the dwarf, Maur has not said or done anything even remotely unkind to him.
His grin turns into a frown as with these ponderings also comes the realization that his mentor Aeron is not who he thought for so long. And that betrayal, combined with that from the Sirs Balorix and Ghal, and the uneasy trust from the wererat Hornauer, has turned his world upside down once more, and now the muscular half-orc druid is unsure who to trust still.
His companions. Yes, he trusts the companions who have been by his side for so long now. But nobody else.
He glances over at Maur and without thinking, his free hand brushes past the dagger at his belt, before abruptly jerking his hand away. Taking his bow from his back and readying an arrow, Caerth moves forward as he searches his memory for what lies ahead.