He blinked as the red displayed that he actually knew how to use his brain, before shaking his head. "Uh, it is too late for us to be fighting. So, how about instead of all of us having an epic battle in the middle of this street, I give you half an hour to get out of the town. You get out, collect the rear guards I am guessing you left outside of town, and head back to your camp in the Witchwood. You have a week to get out of the valley before me and Tyraguna, the blue that was protecting the Fane of the Dragon Goddess of Destrcution, come find you. And you will not find me in nearly as good a mood then."<br/><br/>He paused, looking the group over, before shaking his head. "I would also suggest that you people consider a change of career. Raiders and adventurers have a low life expectancy, but a mercenary group with a good reputation wouldn't have to worry about running out of either battles or loot. But that is me. Red, if you are still around in five years, look me up. I might have a job in my personal guard for you then."<br/><br/>He softened the hardened mud from around the hobgoblins, and then sat down on a nearby barrel, leaning against his Sivridut. His robes fell open a bit, showing that he was wearing his armor under the robe, and he had a slight smile on his face.