the wait growing long as I begin to become edgy .. thoughts go to the man on the roof, I see the light, turning to look, hand regripping the cocked bow .. watching, glimpsing an insignia .. unsure.. noting the woman ... wanting to attack, the desire for battle growing strong .. but knowing that I wait for a specific mark, a mark that will bring gold .. seeing the woman not troubled by the man I assume it is not one of the ones .. I settle back and wait, fingers drumming on the ground as I sit and wait ... nostrils flaring as eyes move around to take in the sites, listening to the sounds of the wharves, the water breaking against the piers, the slap of leather clad boots on the boardwalk as people move around .. the scitter of rats along planks ...
before you stands a young orc or is it a half-orc .. nah anything that ugly has to be all orc ... doesn't it?