Before the dwarf could leave, Rough grunted softly and reached out stopping him. His hand was holding out a brown glass flask 3/4 full of liquid. When the dwarf took it he made a gesture for the dwarf to keep it and waved him off without a word before turning to the party before him
The ranger eyed them hard for a long moment, eyes intense, even cold but intelligent. He had a tired but predatory look to him as the companions realized he was looking them over no different than he probably would his prey down the shaft of one of the arrows he carried. Just when the silence had dragged on to a forte, and he seemed ready to finally break it, he didn't.
He reached into one of the deep folds of his cloak and pointedly took his time retrieving and scrapping out an ancient looking pipe. Once he took the first couple of pulls from it, he slowly exhaled the heavy sweet smoke before grunting and nodding to himself briefly.
When his voice did come, it was full of gravel, almost horse from disuse. "So... looks like you have a people problem."
With that simple statement being said, he moved a bit stiffly, to a sitting position seeming to be more interested in his pipe and the fire than the conversation he had finally prompted. He stared intently at nothing as if simple waiting to see what they would say. He offered no other cue as to whether he would help or not, but for the moment, at least seemed willing to listen.
"A trap is only a trap if you walk into it before you see it" ~Flint Fireforge
Rough Human / NG / Ranger lvl: 6 / Maxvale's Classic War of the Lance Campaign (DL Nexus)