Chapter One: Greenest in Flames!

Bughu nods. "You are Leosin, then," he says, drawing his scimitar to cut the bonds. "Can you walk? We're getting you out of here."

Bughu looks around for something that can be fashioned into a scarecrow: burlap, straw, rope, or other materials.

Bughu looks at Erich and Jon. "Ideas?" he asks.

A shorter, mustached individual walks up "Ey, we're not supposed to be messin' with the prisoner, it was a direct order. I'd recommend you to leave him immediately. Bah..." He spits to the ground "You're probably newbloods, huh. Come on, we'll see what punishment awaits you. Shouldn't be too harsh, if y'all are first offenders." He lets out a subtle chuckle and smiles at them.

"Yes, that's us...the newest of bloods, heh, heh..."

"We have orders," Bughu states matter-of-factly. Usually in the military, such might be enough. Here, he has his doubts, and casually rests his hand on the pommel of his scimitar.

..."And those orders are to not mess with him. Being newbloods, it isn't wise to stand around, defying a direct order. You should follow orders like you're told, some might think you're up to something."

Erich shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot as the newly arrived mustachioed man and Bughu push back and forth in a struggle for situational dominance.

Such are the reasons I remained a hermit for so long. People bickering and fighting drive me out of my mind and into it at the same time. Bah. I wonder....

Erich begins speaking, in the harsh guttural tones of the dragons.

He stares blankly at Erich "If you are done, standing around a high value prisoner with no idea what your doing, I suggest we get moving. Maybe we can find your purpose somewhere else, dishes are probably piling up about now." His nose twitches, and he lets out a sneeze that slightly catches Erich's ear He strokes his mustache down "Oooh, sorry this mustache sometime creeps up." and begins walking away.

Bughu looks between Erich and the stranger. "Enough of this, we're blown," he mutters quietly. Looking as if he is folding his arms, Bughu draws his hand crossbow and trains it upon the man. "Say nothing, do not move. Do not move your hands. You two, cut the prisoner free."

He turns and upon noticing the crossbow, he smiles "Ah, brother, I hardly recognized you. You trim your 'stache?" He starts approaching Bughu, quickly, with arms outstretched in a hugging manner.

Bughu is not about to let the enemy grab him without a fight.