After the quick elf avoided his head-butt, the barbarian moved to pummel the insufferable Anraven to the ground. He was only dimly aware that the elf had grasped the handle of his axe, but the beast was loose in his heart and blood and it demanded that he put the insult-hurling elf to the ground, preferably with a broken nose or jaw.

But a large horse intervened, and the paladin who rode it had begun talking when Horek felt his Rage drain away like water from a basin. Shaking his head as if to clear it, the plainsman watched in awe as a ghostly image became superimposed upon the form of Duras. The words of the apparition rang in the ears of Horek, and he was nearly brought to his knees with the raw power that flowed behind them. After the divine intervention ended, Horek lowered his head, only half-listening to the words of the knight as he finished his speech. Did he not sense the presence of his own patron as he spoke? The ways of the Gods are indeed strange

Taking the words of the entity that could only have been Rao himself to heart, Horek swallowed the last vestiges of his anger and nodded once to Duras. I would agree to your leadership in this venture, knight. Though you appear not to have noticed yourself, your own patron has spoken to us all, even as you did yourself. I shall put aside my own anger at the elf to see that the Healer is rescued and brought to the Canon. This I pledge to you and to Rao.

Turning to Anavren, the barbarian speaks again in a tight voice. Though I think we shall never be friends, I offer you my apologies for attacking you. We plainsmen pride ourselves as warriors and to hear such insults was more than I could bear. There lies within my heart a Rage that lies dormant but when I am called to battle, which is when I usually give it full reign over my body. I had not expected myself to allow it to become released under these circumstances, but perhaps the incident will give me some new insight as to how to better control it. If it is the will of Rao himself that we make this journey together, I will not incur his wrath by ignoring the command. I would that we become allies in this quest, and put further insults and hard feelings aside during our travels together.

Slowly and with a tremendous effort of willpower, Horek offers his hand for the elf to shake in an offering of peace.
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Horek Varshot
Deep bronze skin and the red body paint that decorates the face of this large man combine to mark him as one of true Flannish origin. The plainsman carries a sturdy longbow and a huge sword is strapped tightly to his back. Studded leather armor peeks out from beneath a cloak made from the hide of a large black bear and a necklace decorated with huge claws completes the picture of this fearsome barbarian. The scowl upon his face along with hard, piercing eyes warn you that disturbing this quiet man might be considered foolhardy unless there is good reason.