Ancalagon
Dusty Dragon
"Very well" intones the head archer. "Dajit, you go"
"Why me?!" protested someone (presumably Dajit).
"Because I don't like you" answered the chief.
With much protest and a bit of whimpering, Dajit, a small, old man wearing a loincloth and some crude, ragged fur tunic, went over the palisade with the help of a rope ladder, which was promptly pulled back once he reached the ground. "Do you think they'll take him hostage?" one voice asked. "We'll pepper them with arrows if they do" answered another. "Won't we risk hitting Dajit?" answered the first. "So?" replied the second.
Visibly concerned, Dajit hesitantly approached you, taking an oddly weaving path. "Uh... the goods please. The chief will keep his word"
"Why me?!" protested someone (presumably Dajit).
"Because I don't like you" answered the chief.
With much protest and a bit of whimpering, Dajit, a small, old man wearing a loincloth and some crude, ragged fur tunic, went over the palisade with the help of a rope ladder, which was promptly pulled back once he reached the ground. "Do you think they'll take him hostage?" one voice asked. "We'll pepper them with arrows if they do" answered another. "Won't we risk hitting Dajit?" answered the first. "So?" replied the second.
Visibly concerned, Dajit hesitantly approached you, taking an oddly weaving path. "Uh... the goods please. The chief will keep his word"