Arabesu
Registered User
Grubnar's spikey gauntleted fist tightens on the haft of his glaive as he flips it over and hefts it to rest on his shoulder, with blade ahead of him where he can keep an eye on it to make sure he doesn't accidentally lop anyones head off if he turns around too quickly. Addressing Tor (OOC: our tracker is a member of our PC group right?), "Ground smeller," the words come out with revered respect in an odd sort of way, "which way? You lead. Me follow. My tribe had ground smeller too. Very skilled. You do good at ground smeller, me keep you little one from danger." Turning to Fethwynyth, "You stand here. By or behind me. Me promise not to wind at you. Me think Brotaz-humble-follower-of-the-divine-Azwan be at back in case we get attack from behind. Me think this is good way go unless we see wolves or bandits. Me and Brotaz-humble-follower-of-the-divine-Azwan rush to front if happen. Good for you?"
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