Orthus Nahl
Slowly roasting the rodents over the half-barrel, Orthus noticed feet stamping in another section of the library. Unafraid of the possibilities, he simply sat and waited. It didn't sound like anything to really be concerned about. But the intruders became very quiet soon after, and it was hard to tell where they walked. He could notice the one on his left was closing on him, but then steered off and away.
"Darkness approaches quickly, old one. It would be wise to smother this fire. Though warm, it will alert those outside that this library is not empty. They do not like it, true, but they will still enter if there is potential food or slaves within."
The one directly behind him spoke. Unamused, Orthus took a bite at the head of a skinned rodent. Turning around, he found an armored man and two minions of a race he'd rather see dead.
"You shouldn't be creeping around my fire, sly one," he began to reply. "Look at what happened to the others who did." Taking another bight from his skewer, he put his food down, leaning on the walls of the half-barrel. Looking with uneven eyes at the warrior before him, Orthus studied the figure. Sometimes finding armor and weapons was easy, he wasn't sure if his new potential companion was worth anything.
"I don't particularly like your friends searching through one of my kitchens. I like friends, but I don't like ones who steal my things," the old man went on. He began to walk in a circle around Lucatiel, and observed his reaction. It was a very odd position the man was put into, more because it had been years since he had a conversation with anyone. Being trapped in Girau was a true test of sanity.