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<blockquote data-quote="Dark_Jackalope" data-source="post: 3338810" data-attributes="member: 41706"><p>The bugbear watched Doral loose his bonds, and looked up at the gathering group with a new expression of intrigue. While still not particularly happy looking, he had exchanged his anxious and apprehensive manner for a more comfortable one.</p><p></p><p>In direct answer to Vhir’s question, the ungainly humanoid said, in a more hardened and drawling tone than the night before, <span style="color: Orange">“We usu’lly keep prisoners in th’ prison cells unde’ th’ barracks, but I havn’t seen eny new ones lately.” </span> </p><p></p><p>Sensing an imminent and frustrated dismissal by his new “friends”, the bugbear continued, a shadow of pleasure touching his face as if crossing the Prince gave him some private happiness.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Orange">“But we don’ usu’lly get import’nt prisoners, more like common law-breakers. Yet th’ Prince hardly doesn’t ‘ave enemies… So ah figure ‘is Highness has a particul’r place for those prisn’rs. Probably right in ‘is manner, ah’d bet.”</span></p><p></p><p>Seeing he had the group’s attention, he broke out in a toothy smile for the first time. <span style="color: Orange">“Th’ Prince might ‘ave cells under his manor, or mebbe they’re up in ‘is private chambers, if this prisn’r you’re looking for is real important. Ah don’t b’lieve they’re in th’ barracks, though, ’ll tell you that. An’ probably not in the commons on th’ first floor a’ the manorhouse, either.”</span></p><p></p><p>On that note, the bugbear concluded his speech, and began to root around for his bag. <span style="color: Orange">“’M starved!”</span> he commented casually, as if this was his normal state of being.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: SandyBrown">“There’s a kitchen upstairs, though it’s been many years since I’ve cooked anything for somebody in it,”</span> Carver offered.</p><p></p><p>The bugbear’s fist emerged from his small leather sack with a cut of dried meat. <span style="color: Orange">“Nah,” </span> it answered, <span style="color: Orange">“Ah’ve still got a bit leftov’r from last night.” </span> He sat back down in the chair in which he had until recently been bound, seeming to forget this earlier treatment. His aggressive and proactive personality was already beginning to show as he became comfortable with his “fellows”, with an oddly artificial air of helpfulness masking what was probably a normally more independent and solitary attitude.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Orange">“So, yeh all really gonna take an imporant pris'ner right outta the Prince's hands? Well then, what's the plan? We better get movin' fast, yeh know. They be s'pectin' me at th' barracks soon.”</span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Dark_Jackalope, post: 3338810, member: 41706"] The bugbear watched Doral loose his bonds, and looked up at the gathering group with a new expression of intrigue. While still not particularly happy looking, he had exchanged his anxious and apprehensive manner for a more comfortable one. In direct answer to Vhir’s question, the ungainly humanoid said, in a more hardened and drawling tone than the night before, [COLOR=Orange]“We usu’lly keep prisoners in th’ prison cells unde’ th’ barracks, but I havn’t seen eny new ones lately.” [/COLOR] Sensing an imminent and frustrated dismissal by his new “friends”, the bugbear continued, a shadow of pleasure touching his face as if crossing the Prince gave him some private happiness. [COLOR=Orange]“But we don’ usu’lly get import’nt prisoners, more like common law-breakers. Yet th’ Prince hardly doesn’t ‘ave enemies… So ah figure ‘is Highness has a particul’r place for those prisn’rs. Probably right in ‘is manner, ah’d bet.”[/COLOR] Seeing he had the group’s attention, he broke out in a toothy smile for the first time. [COLOR=Orange]“Th’ Prince might ‘ave cells under his manor, or mebbe they’re up in ‘is private chambers, if this prisn’r you’re looking for is real important. Ah don’t b’lieve they’re in th’ barracks, though, ’ll tell you that. An’ probably not in the commons on th’ first floor a’ the manorhouse, either.”[/COLOR] On that note, the bugbear concluded his speech, and began to root around for his bag. [COLOR=Orange]“’M starved!”[/COLOR] he commented casually, as if this was his normal state of being. [COLOR=SandyBrown]“There’s a kitchen upstairs, though it’s been many years since I’ve cooked anything for somebody in it,”[/COLOR] Carver offered. The bugbear’s fist emerged from his small leather sack with a cut of dried meat. [COLOR=Orange]“Nah,” [/COLOR] it answered, [COLOR=Orange]“Ah’ve still got a bit leftov’r from last night.” [/COLOR] He sat back down in the chair in which he had until recently been bound, seeming to forget this earlier treatment. His aggressive and proactive personality was already beginning to show as he became comfortable with his “fellows”, with an oddly artificial air of helpfulness masking what was probably a normally more independent and solitary attitude. [COLOR=Orange]“So, yeh all really gonna take an imporant pris'ner right outta the Prince's hands? Well then, what's the plan? We better get movin' fast, yeh know. They be s'pectin' me at th' barracks soon.”[/COLOR] [/QUOTE]
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