*The call goes out for Jalaro and she arrives several minutes later, while the dwarves stand, unmoved, as the party goes through every single language they know. Mourn had figuratively thrown up his hands and cast his spell of communication when Jalaro arrived with the agitated anklies. It seemed they didn't like the smell of blood. Jalaro gripped right behind Lightfoot's jaw when she slid down, keeping the beast close.*
"I greet you, members of the Clawspear tribe," she says in gutteral dwarven, adding some odd clicks in places, something not seen in northern dwarves. Mourn can understand her easily with the magic swirling around his ears and tongue.
"I greet you, serpant-kin. I am Spear Strikes Deep, hunter of the Clawspear tribe, these are my kinsmen, Thunder in the Distance, Three Kills, Over the Towering Falls, and Waits Patiently for Nightfall. We commend the warriors and shamen that felled Killhaven, and will grant them the honor of the teeth and claws," the tallest dwarf says, his spear very sturdily and highly carved. Thunder in the Distance had nearly black hair under the mud and a deep scowl on his face, while Three Kills had three long bone splinters pierced through his nose like whiskers. Over the Towering Falls looked as if many of his bones had been badly broken in the past, to judge from the scars and fact that his arms were twisted and his legs looked warped and bowed. Waits Patiently for Nightfall was quiet, calm, and utterly expressionly, but held a great wealth of claws in jewelry all over his body.
*Jalaro quickly translates what the dwarves say, and looks to the party for their next move.*
"Killhaven must had surprised them, I think, they're not outfitted to hunt anything of his size. I think they were hunting smaller game when he found them. Offering the teeth and claws is an honor, because Killhaven did fall in their territory."
