<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/67/Minotaur27.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong><strong>Marcus Cantanos</strong>(https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=203749.msg9970844#msg9970844)<br/><strong>Status:</strong>normal<br/><strong>HP:</strong>29/29<strong>AC:</strong>18<strong>Saves:</strong>Fort +6, Reflex +2, Will +2<strong>Init:</strong>+1<br/><hr/><br/>Marcus is largely quiet on the journey, his hooves echoing on the stony ground with each step. He pauses from time to time to sniff the air deeply, each time reacting with a foul expression. There is no scent of life here, no trace of mortal passage. Only the ever present brimstone and ash. It feels as if the foul air has coated the inside of his wide nostrils, his throat, his lungs. Perhaps even his soul.<br/><br/>"That is perhaps the most disgusting thing I have ever witnessed," he remarks as the party stands at the edge of the maggot filled lake. "If any of you have seen worse in your time, trust that I do NOT wish to hear about it." The last remark seems particularly pointed at Arath.<br/><br/>There is little time for reflection, however, as a foe a bit more formidable than maggots lands before them. A dragon, of sorts at least. In his homeland such creatures were mythical, but it surprises him little to find that in the greater expanse the beasts he knew from paintings on jars and carvings of stone were real. Real, and by any reasonable estimation more than capable of destroying he and his companions in any sort of a straight battle, even without the hundreds of reinforcements in the skies above.<br/><br/>"I am Marcus Cantanos, of the city of Bethos, far from this place. I and my companions were brought here against our wills, and seek only safe passage and eventual exit, if such a thing is possible." He holds his hands open, knowing that even were he to draw his axe he would pose little threat to the thing.