From: muddy999_at_bigpond.com
Date: Sat Mar 27 2004 - 04:46:29 GMT
Garrott brushes some spilt ale from his shirt (I refuse to think someone
bumping a 900lbs + Obsidiman is going to drop him) even as his skin hardens
to the familiar burnt wood texture. Standing beside the Nethermancer,
knowing the difference in size and weight is only making him look more
fierce, he waits for Pean to finish his speech before pointing at the large
Ork.
"You...you owe us a round of drinks for my soiled shirt. I would also take
care not to anger us, you do not wish to make an Obsidiman mad do you?." He
rolls his massive shoulders knowing he has half a head again on the Ork and
a good number of pounds, even as his fingers brush the massive hammer at his
waist, a wolfish grin on his face. Even though he is sure that a decent
brawl would likely see any riverboat Captain avoid them like the plague and
also bring down the local militia, Pean's lead must be followed if he is to
play his role in this.
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