At the mention of killing, Logbrag's head lifts up to meet Grok's eyes. The huge creature's gravely voice responds to Grok. "You can not kill what does not die." The creature drops his gaze again. "You just make more lies to make Logbrag hurt." His brow furrows "You sound different than other voices though. Other voices, not here so long." The creature makes a face that would seem to indicate constipation. It is one that Grok is familiar with, and other observers can almost hear the monster's tiny brain trying feebly to kick out an idea. "Hmmmmm, must mean voices getting stronger. But Logbrag still stronger than voices think." Logbrag emits a long-suffering sigh and slowly gets up, hefting his massive club from a pile a nearby debris. John briefly sees what is giving off the magical eminations: a large wooden shield that the ogre was apparently using to support his crooked back. Logbrag takes in a massive breath and gives an impressive, bass, shrieking war-cry, then heads toward Grok.
Initiatives, please!
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Tuk=█ Roderic=█ Grok=█ John=█ Rosalia=█ Scrag=█ Jakobee=█
Thrindar=█
Logbrag=█
██████=brighter area lit by coin in the middle
[/sblock]