(sorry if the post isn't coherrent or something. bit of booze in ol' fluffies body)
(i had a thought concerning the npc's btw. the two rangers are gone with dunim, right? what about them others? i think i'll feel awkward somehow, with poeple dragging along, not saying anything and really only acting as cannon fodder. i say, they should fall in love with tiraks. surely they can't be
that ugly
)
Jachul stands up, a hump of meat still in one hand, a bottle of some most likely alcoholic beverage still in the other. He looks at his two guests, the little female creature already being 'saved' by the elf. He raises his shoulders, taking an hungry bite out of the meat. He didn't know what was going on here. Maybe he should tell them.
He did. "I just woke up from being dead for who knows how long and sort of took over leadership by mutilating the tiraks' leader's wrist. Don't look at me if you want to know what was going on." He chewed and swallowed, bringing the drink to his lips and eagerly drinking it; who knew, this might be the last he would have in a while - again. He was sure he spilled something, but it didn't matter. He took another bite at his meat, not at all caring how rare or not rare it was, just chewing and eating. He had gone too long without it, he would cherish every little bit he could get no.
But still. This whole explosion thing going on unsettled him. He let go of his food and grabbed his blade, storming outside, the bottle of wine still in hand. The others were kind of right, they should find out what was going on...