Ser Bruce Le-Guy
Bruce gave a friendly smile and nodded as his two best friends left to attend their things in the camp. Let go of my past? Never. The elves are abominations, and I am glad to see that the alienage exists. At least that prevents the elves from mixing with the humans.
Bruce shook his head and then went to check on his bag. There was a single lump of bread left for him to eat, he thought that it would probably go best with the food that was prepared. Thinking of food, the more Bruce sniffed the air, the louder his stomach roared to taste it; he hadn’t had any proper meals for almost two days and now with the opportunity that was being presented, his stomach would not let the option pass that easily. It twisted and it twirled the more Bruce breathed through his nose, inhaling the delicious smell of dinner being prepared.
This is torture. Food is here, in front of me, within my grasp, yet I must endure the mental and physical pain of waiting to satisfy my stomach. Bruce thought, smirking to himself as he imagined how dramatic such a speech could be performed.
His attention was shifted as he heard Asmara call out. Turning Bruce noticed the qunari in the camp. At first, Bruce froze and looked at the mighty thing, sizing the qunari up and down and then he looked at the horns. Bruce had to be truthful when he said, he had never really seen nor read any form of description of a qunari. He had heard of them being powerful creatures that were skilled warriors, yet they believed in something so foul that his mentors had refused to even speak of it.
He found himself slowly moving towards Connall, the weird human had to know what this…Demon-looking monster was. A gentle tap to Connall’s shoulder was to get his attention before Bruce leaned closer and asked, “What…Is that thing?” Bruce whispered, not whishing to possibly anger the newly arrived...Thing.