Gar approached the group of well-dressed humans - and at least one half-elf, it seemed, from the man speaking right now (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/00/be/0b/00be0b7c1e870c366479afbda2295764.jpg). "...Here. And I don't like standing in this rain. I say we take a cobble and... hey, what's this shin-licker want?" he asks, hand falling to the short sword at his side; just resting. As a group they turn to Gar, a few smirks, mostly glowers.<br/><br/>"Throw some scraps to it, maybe it'll go away," adds the group's sole woman (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f9/74/4e/f9744e98efd05de93887ea68e8cd4a61.jpg), and - as Gar now sees - the only one without a weapon at her side.<br/><br/>"Piss off, mangefoot," adds a third (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/db/c2/49/dbc24948ed780868dbaa6907a111b2d8.jpg), while the fourth remaining member (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/8a/e4/8c/8ae48c8c395265e8e4ef141cccc4af15.jpg) of the group scans the road, squinting against the rain.<br/><br/>