You walk up the near empty street with a bounce in your step. Death, whenever it came to claim you completely, always excited you when you beat it, once again.
You enter the Inn and see Snarl drinking deeply from a mug. He is large and hideously ugly but you know that he has brute strength. He may not be very smart, but he is strong...and a loyal fighter. Shyntar is nowhere to be seen.
You close in on him, trying to avoid breathing in the scent of him. He leaps to his feet when you get close and turns a dark glare upon you.
"When do we leave?" He asks, his voice deep and grating, rubbing you the wrong way instantly.
"Soon. Where is Shyntar?" You ask and he growls lowly as he takes in the room about him. You know Shyntar is not in the room.
"I do not know." He says.
"Ah, well, we wait then." You say as you take the chair opposite of him and wave the serving wench over. "I'll have what he's having." You say, knowing the troll is drinking ale. She heads off to fulfill your request. "Are you going to stand there or are you going to join me?" You ask and Snarl sits. He takes a swig from the mug and wipes the excess from his mouth with his dirty sleeve. You look away and wait for your ale to arrive. You won't pay for this ale, you decide, since the last time almost got you killed.
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