Garund waited in the bushes above the trail, unmoving, as if he were one of the very stones that were at his back. He wanted to sneeze, badly, but held it back. He couldn't afford to give his position away. He had been out on the road and trails for days, slowly making his way too Hamsharil. He had been on the surface for years and still he was not used to things. The birds, the open sky, the dullness of the noises, it was all new to him. Or rather, it<u>had</u>been new to him. His eyes and hearing had adjusted, as had his sense of smell. All of these adjustments had served him well over the past week as he had evaded Darkspawn, amazed by the numbers on the surface. It spoke to one thing, which was all to obvious to him, a Blight was about to begin.<br/><br/>A day of fighting had left him covered with blood. Four times he had come upon Elvish wagons which had been overrun, entire families cut down. There had not been much he could do for those who were already dead, but he could at least honor their memory by killing as many Darkspawn as he possibly could. But this would be the last time today before he cut for the city. He watched as two elves came trotting down the trail, noting how they were armed and obviously warn out.<br/><br/>He waited until they passed by and was not at all surprised when, a little bit after them, half a dozen Darkspawn came running down the trail. He drew his falcata and his hand axe and waited for them to pass. He rose then and ran down the slope, his short legs carrying him quickly. Garund pounced down from the ridge above the trail upon the Genlock at the rear. The attack had the desired effect. As he tore his hand axe from the Genlock's back the others were slowing and turning. He didn't wait for things to become a fair fight. The legionnaire's left arm rocketed forward, his axe spinning out of his hand, the head of the weapon embedding itself in the forehead of a hurlock. He moved quickly then drawing his dagger as he moved. He dodged and slashed, blocking only occasionally. The last four Darkspawn didn't stand a chance against him.<br/><br/>As the last of them fell the dwarf began to run, he wanted to make it to the city before the gates were closed. Soon enough he was in sight of the walls. He could see the look on the face of the guards as, without pausing, he trotted right on through the gates, calling back to them, "Might want to close up! I took care of the last group on the trail I saw! Don't know how many are behind me!"<br/><br/>Having done his duty for the day he decided there were two things he wanted dearly; a bath and a brew. Where better to get that then at an inn? He wandered through the streets for a bit before he found one, one which had an all to familiar figure sitting outside of it. He was just coming up to the one who was obviously a mage when another elf, the archer, emerged from the inn, speaking to her compatriot. He moved past them, speaking as he went in, "There were six behind you. I took care of them. Glad to see that you made it here."<br/><br/>Having said that he stepped by them into the inn. He moved over to the inn keeper, speaking quickly, "A room, a bath and a beer. The beer can come first." The inn keeper, a human, nodded, then told him how much it would be. He quickly removed some coin from his pouch and put it on the bar, two coins more then the man had asked for. He went and sat at the bar then as the beer was placed before him. He took a sip and then shook his head, speaking softly. "Damn surfacers... don't know how to make a halfway decent brew..."