As he stomps through the town hall, his armor and weapons making quite the racket, Ursk grumbles to Weyna in dwarven:
He spares a glance at Chrome and looks at the outstretched hand as if it were a tentacled appendage attached to a strange beast, then switches to common again, "You magic? Maybe more help than you look." He leaves the poor man's hand untouched.
"People lost. May be trapped. Or free. If free, too late. But if trapped, need move fast. Time for nice stuff later."
"People lost. May be trapped. Or free. If free, too late. But if trapped, need move fast. Time for nice stuff later."