[IC] Chapter 1-7: Many Meetings

[Lugar]

Maul clears his throat.

"I can clearly see common interests here with Mister Bear-Riding-Gnome. How about Mister Flaming-Gnome and Silence-Armor-Clad dwarf friend? What's your mission? And feel free to introduce yourselves as we've already done so."

Apparently, Maul was not the first to notice that the heavily armored dwarf made less noise than a stalking cat on a wooden roof but he was the first to bring up a possible explanation.

Lugar waits patiently, still hidden inside the tunnel, listening to everyone. Maul was kind enough to identify these strangers, whether he knew it or not. The "flaming-gnome" must be this Portho fellow who just finished a lengthy tale, he seemed a fair person to partner up with one day on his adventures. Then there was a "bear-riding-gnome" possibly "Toot" he heard. Odd to be riding a bear but gnomes behaved oddly most of the time. "A beast tamer," Lugar thought, "I wonder what tricks he's taught this bear? Better watch out for that one." He smirks at the cleverness of owning a bear... Then there was the "silent-armor-clad-dwarf" with no name. Lugar could feel the ancient grudges boiling in his blood, but he remained quiet and patient like a snake. "I'll introduce you to one of my poisoned bolts you bastard," he grumbles inwardly, "and while you're sleeping I'll crack you out of your armored shell and boil your beardless ass in a fat pot till you apologize for..." His anger subsides remembering what the priestesses of Elestraee had taught him years ago. That was old hatred, and it kept Dwarven minds "trapped" in the past. Traps were something he knew of well. The way this "silent-armored-dwarf" spoke of Merri as a Drow and how he might not help her if she was such, showed Lugar how ignorant dwarves could be. "Surface dwellers. They know nothing."