[@OtomostheCrazy] [@boomlover]

"The mutterings are true then, you really do cut right to the chase." Despite the situation he couldn't supress a laugh. Everyone he'd talked to, and there had been many on the list over his years, mentioned the dark elf as a blunt person. The others said he would sooner cut a mans throat than try to save him. The notion didn't sit well but neither did he judge. 
It wasn't his place to be like that.

With a helpless shrug and a sigh, Bartuc scratched his stubbly chin. "Mmm. Well, for now I'll take a stroll through town before heading to the inn. I doubt Sunderland wants more visitors." Another shrug and he turned to walk away but couldn't. He had one last message.
"Kaathe. When the fighting starts, keep going. People like me die to protect people like you." With a smile he turned and strolled off. Hopefully Kaathe understood his meaning. Not cowardice, buy intelligence. Those who lacked it died for those who did.


What followed next was more than a bit of time spent wandering the town, stopping to help load a cart or shore up a defense. Mostly he wandered because he'd forgotten to ask the way and at this point was too proud to ask. Finally the smell of food and ale caught his nose and followed with a passion.
Bartuc practically burst through the door, his excitement and hunger getting the best of him. The bar was busy with knights trying to get the departure ready, to where Bartuc did not know. 

"By the gods!" Bartucs face lit up with a smile as he caught sight of a familiar bearded face. "Argus, you wily monster, good to see you made it out! Round of food on me?" Food and companionship may yet save his spirits. If that didn't work, there had to be alcohol somewhere.