03/08/998: Afternoon, Ender's Run; near the Kraken's Hole Tavern
Krellish emerges dramatically from the water, followed closely by huge, bloodied and bedraggled wolf. The white wolf growls uncertainly at the large bald man standing in the water a bit further in, then deepens its growl as it spots the warforged just behind him.
The wolf staggers a few steps into the tunnel. One of its eyes is swollen shut around the haft of a crossbow bolt.
Grundun emerged from the water, soaked through and through, his earlier disguise undoubtedly being thoroughly washed out. He held up a hand to his comrades, indicating a call to stand easy.
To the wolf, he said in clear Common, "My friends and I are a clan of outcasts considered to be scum by the city, the same city whose very guards just tried filling you full of crossbow bolts. You have my apologies for the subterfuge above, but we felt it was the only way to get you into the water and off to safety, the streets were an inevitable deathtrap for sure. I imagine you'll recognize my voice from the Message spell, and I hope you'll know by now that I am no enemy to you, and neither are my friends."
He bowed. "We offer you and yours safe passage to the outskirts of town to meet with our patron, a druid who shares the same outlook on life and society that we do... and I suspect that you do as well. Any more than that, our patron will have to offer you, for it would be discourteous for us to presume. Still, unless I miss my guess, I imagine that you and yours will be able to negotiate for a safe haven if you wish. Given how far you must be from home -- we are in a temperate climate indeed -- I hope this offer appeals to you."
He spread his hands. "I am happy to show our good faith by treating you to a small amount of healing, if you will allow it."
Grundun does a fair job of patching up the she-wolf, but her eye, though no longer impaled by the thin wooden bolt-shaft, is still swollen shut---mercifully so, as the eye itself is deflated of its juices, depending like an emptied grape skin through the crack between her puffed, reddened lids.
"I think I got the sack," the bald man says, looking to Krellish. "Back to Mama's?"