#//catastrophe initiated by manspreadin' who'd have thought

[elkenbulwark]

@halforc-mercenary cont.

Another town to traverse through simply meant more leg work for him once the steps spent on keeping his brother in line of sight were also accounted for. Not to mention all the extra attempts the wayfaring wizard threw in by way of attempting to shake Birvor off his trail to do gods knew what. That was his agitated excuse to their cleric in response as to why he felt the need to keep his overbearing antics up after she made gesture to where Ren stood obliviously in the foyer of a nearby shop, thumbing through books like the actual nerd he was. Damn her- she even quirked a brow at him like he'd grown another head. Clearly the cleric didn't know what youth cut loose were capable of getting themselves into, especially in his brother's case when the lad hadn't been let outside but maybe a couple times of the year, and no farther than the gate of their courtyard. Which for a high city home was only about a few hundred square feet out before the street. Still, if anything Birvor thought he was being more than lenient these days seeing as the tether between them was now long enough to not alert him as he stood on the street's edge and waited for his brother to finish his shopping trip while simultaneously making anyone else inside the shop unfortunate enough to peer out the smudged window uncomfortable with his mean mugging.

Although shopping trips were becoming easier to deal with, taverns were still iffy to him. Why yes, he'd absolutely prefer to spend the evening practically bowling his brother over from behind just to ensure there wouldn't be room for any wandering rogues with a scent of lost rich boy in their noses to slide a dagger between them. Never mind they already had a rogue following them much to Birvor's ire. To make matters worse, Ren had been utterly clueless when he'd informed the rogue in their party that they were from the high city in Baldur's Gate and on their way back. For all the books Ren read, it seemed he didn't learn anything except that strangers with attractive faces always had the best intentions at heart. The half-orc could gag about it, he really could-

After some firm words, a shove or two, and the promise the cleric would keep an eye out while she and Ren grabbed refreshments, Birvor had little more to say on the matter when a line of dancers darted between the lot of them, cutting him off from the rest of the party who seemed none the wiser save for Ren who turned to give him a little wave and a smug look before joining the rest of the crew at the table-top bar further up along the tavern tent's outskirts. He had half a mind to stampede after them, but he supposed he could save the effort until it was really needed. The dancers that were in his way would be spared ...for now.

Instead, he plopped back onto a bench surrounded by some crates and watched the other side of the tent where his party was, tusks grinding into his bottom lip in agitation. Of course they were all over there laughing...enjoying themselves without him. Better to just leave it at that, he thought pettily, hoping the dancers would pull any of them in to their undertow and leave them trapped in the throes of liquid-courage fueled movement. Maybe then they wouldn't be so keen to wander off. He almost smiled at the thought, though halfway through the curling of lips, he caught sight of the stranger next to him and froze.

A shade of green in their skin and the large curve of their tusks caused something in his heart to clench and hike halfway up his throat. For a moment, he was back in a dark hallway under the looming stature of an orc who regarded him with the same indifference of a dog faced with a single piece of kibble. He let out a shaky breath and shook his head to rouse his sensibilities. No-...not an orc. Just another half-orc like him? Though he'd yet to see another in their travels so far. Perhaps his staring had alarmed her, because before he knew it- she was wheeling round to address him. His eyes cut heavily to the side to avoid looking like he'd been observing her for the short amount of time he had been, though he tilts his face in to catch the end of her grumblings just in time for their message to sour his expression. "Oi- what's that 'en? Ever think...if your eyes got a job to do, ya ought... oh, I dunno-" He clicked his teeth, elbow propped upon his thigh now popping up his jaw that he ground furiously in to the speckled belly of his palm. "-keepin'em to yerself??" Because he hadn't been staring a bit too long to warrant drawing her suspicions in, no- definitely not.

Noting the sharp end of her spear in the candle light, he bristled figuring she was likely the only person in the tent he had to worry about should things go south any time soon. Though his immediate response to being told to fuck off in basic terms was to cross his arms and spread his legs a little wider to take up more space on the bench. Send a little message her way that he was not about to be bullied off the best spot in the tent to keep an eye on the goings on. Granted, the smooth, scarless state of his face was not exactly a deterrent in that regard.

"Babysittin' with a twist, izzit? Can't say I can relate 'cause I never sucked so much eggs at it to warrant a choppin' block. Hells, guess Baldur's Gate is a lot more civilized than these parts after all." He added, not noticing how his agitated shifting had bumped a lit candle nearby which toppled off the bench and rolled off someplace below still burning.