Secrets of Roderics Cove IC

[Stelio Kontos]

Gregor found himself unusually on edge, what with Jon coming in at whatever ungodly hour it was. The observant might have noticed a certain tension in the forearms beneath the layer of fatty muscle. As he arrived at the town square, his eyes narrowed. There were usually a couple of guards on duty in the circle, not that there was often much trouble.

That half-orc woman Kwella was there; Gregor gave her a friendly wave and a smile before lining up for a morning tickler of the punch to properly lubricate the senses. The rowdy bunch lined up ahead of him weren't much of his concern ... but someone getting killed? That, well, it'd explain a lot, he supposed, but it also made for a lot of questions.

"Oi" he grunted, tapping the man in front of him not-so-gently on the shoulder, just enough so he'd know who it was soon enough. "What's this talk 'bout someone gettin' killed?" It was a simple question, deserving he thought of a simple answer. He folded his arms in front of him, awaiting a civilized reply, if these hooligans could muster one up.