Kaleed heard someone call out to him. He frantic banging ceased for a moment.<br/><br/>He despaired. For a moment, he loathed himself, with his disfigured and terrible mouth. Sweating profusely, unable to speak, he began making as much noise as he could, trying to force grunting, and moaning sounds past his sewn lips.<br/><br/>He looked over his shoulder for a moment.<br/><br/>The monstrosities were still prowling the walls for any guards they might have missed, and they seemed preoccupied for the moment.<br/><br/>Reaching down, he quickly pulled a scrap of parchment from a pocket, and with a quick rummage into his cloak, pulled out a bit of chalk. Bending down, he scrawled the words: Open, No Speak. He knew the basics of the local written language, and hoped that it would suffice. Sliding the parchment under the door, he spun with his back to the door. Keeping one dagger out and in front of him, he assumed a defensive stance, letting his body crouch as low as possibble to the ground. With his other hand, he continued to bang on the door. He would be damned if he ended up as a meal for one of these things.