“One we shall all hear very shortly,” Talimar said as he stepped onto the path from behind a tree. He addressed his next question directly to Kersath, “Have you prepared him to meet the others? They are here and getting impatient.”
Kersath shook his head, “No, I did not. I was feeling him out to see if he was being genuine or if he might be a spy, sent to steal our company secrets. Besides,” he added with a smirk, “how do you prepare someone for Ortho and the others?”
Talimar sighed, “Kersath, you dark ones have the strangest sense of humor. Nevertheless, a surprise of this kind will only disservice all of us.” He looked up at Kre and paused with his mouth open for a moment before he spoke, “Ah, never mind. Kersath is right. There’s no preparing for this. Kre? Time to meet the dweorvkin of our company.”
“Who are…” The beginning of the question was out of his lips just as Kersath smacked Maple’s hindquarters, causing her to leap forward through some thick brush and nearly ripping Kre from the saddle in the process.
A few furious seconds of branches whipping him in the face later, Kre spat out a leaf and finished his question with a groan, “…the dwarf kin?”
Five heads snapped all at once in his direction, the very sound of their collective movement was painfully audible given the sharp glares they were focusing on the new arrival.
“What did you call us?” snarled one of the five. From Kre’s vantage point atop Maple and given how much his eyes were stinging from being whapped by sharp edged leaves, he could only make out wide dirty faces surrounded by thick, greasy hair of varying colors.
“…uh… what?” Kre stammered, taken aback by the sudden hostility he felt in the air. “Where are… uh?” He looked around quickly but couldn’t find any sign of the Red Feather folks.
“Maple,” another asked in a slightly softer tone, “what sort of half-wit have you brought for us today?”
“You say that as if she brings half-wits around all the time,” Dain chuckled as he walked into the clearing from the far side. “I mean, I suppose when Beleg rides her…”
“Quiet you,” even without seeing him, Kre could identify the large man’s voice from somewhere off to the side.
“Don’t be changing the subject here,” the first angry figure in the clearing snarled, “didn’t you hear what that there boy called us?”
Kre tried to interject with an immediate apology, even though he really had no idea what he should be apologizing for. Instead, two pairs of gnarled, leathery hands pulled him from the saddle and dragged him across the rough terrain of the clearing. Struggling wasn’t even an option, as the hands seemed to be made of stone, cold, firm, and just as unyielding to Kre’s attempts to free himself.
When the dragging stopped, he found himself firmly pinned down by his arms and legs, staring up at four scruffy, bearded faces with anger flashing in their eyes.
“Dwarf, eh?” a different one snarled, “Language like that gets a Tehynshin like you gutted and left for dead.”