<div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">http://orokos.com/roll/m-AssumedPseudonym</div></div></div><br/><br/>Gorun follows along behind Lyla as the mismatched group is led toward the mayor’s office.  He’s pretty sure the redhead wasn’t on the up-and-up when she said that everyone was happy to see them, and the general disposition of the people he sees while they’re on their way seems to confirm that.  He doesn’t mind that.  The bull can’t speak for any of his other compatriots (he spares them a brief look on the walk from the inn, and they’re a motley looking crew even by<span style="font-style: italic">his</span>standards), but he’s quite accustomed to his arrival rarely being accompanied by trumpet fanfares and cascades of rose petals.  And at least Lyla seems genuine enough with her attitude toward them all — even him — and whether that’s because she doesn’t care what race someone is or because she’s taking a take-what-help-you-can-get mentality doesn’t particularly concern Gorun.<br/><br/>He somewhat surprised but also somewhat pleased at the sight of the mayor’s office:  Plain and serviceable, like everything else in the town, without any pretentiousness about it.  He smirks openly with a nod of approval when the mayor himself inside demonstrates a similar trait in skipping past the pleasantries.  A man of action, this one.  He likes that.  Gorun studiously pays attention while the situation is explained, and meets Sir Moss’s gaze levelly but respectfully when it lingers on him:  Not challenging his authority, but not conceding subservience, either.<br/><br/>Peering down at the map when it’s displayed, he makes something of a face at the idea of using deer paths, at least if the idea is to go unnoticed.  “Certainly not easy for<span style="font-style: italic">me</span>, at least,” he agrees wryly, before looking up between Lyla and Sir Moss, not quite certain which to address and so addressing both.  “It would help to know more about both our opposition and our objectives.  How many cultists are we likely to encounter there, how well equipped and organized are they, and how many children are needing rescued?”