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Boris hissed as he lifted a wand of unknown effect too slow to blast either of the softskin, he took out another unused wand in his other hand. He and the gift giver were trapped, he called on the elixer of Boris within that dulled the instincts, yet they still muffledly told him to leave, to...

Heeding the wise direction of the Gift Giver Boris's clawed feet scrached the ground as he lopped after the gift giver, he'd promised to himself he'd protect him for sharing the elixir of Boris with him. He followed him into the place that lead to the stone not swamp and hide in there far from...

Boris's head perks up interrupting his salivation over the tender flesh the dead softskins could provide, he could gorge himself for days with this much food. The steady thump of feet was too many, even as Boris switched to a unused wand of unknown effects. He recalled the times he'd hunted and...

Boris could feel the gift-givers predatory desire, he'd been ignoring these prey. Their flesh not worthy of the finer taste of the brewing race, now they prey 'must have taunted the stout gift-giver. As protector Boris would strike the prey of the gift-giver down. Lifting the wand of raging...

Tilting his head as he couldn't understand the words used in the exchange, Boris did understand the stance the softskins took. They beckoned a fight, yet were posing as if attempting to threaten them away. Perhaps these softskins weren't as danger as they seemed and were prey? His clawed toes...

Head turning towards the softskin loping towards the other ones who names are not known and are in clothes of war. Boris's tongue flickered out as he didn't move, his intincts told him to run. He fought them long enough to imbibe several deep quaffs of the holy exliers that deadened their call...

Having finish any preparations needed Boris assumed the holy pose meditating on his light inebriation on the greater matters of alcohol and brewing. His mind pondering over the fermentation of various plants and coveting the bitterness of hops and cleaner taste of dwarven and human brews...

Making a pleased thrill at the gift givers bravery as softskins called it as he plodded along following the dwarf, loading his pack and barrel of ale into the wizard's cart. "Then Boris will protect the softskin of the gift giver from prey that seek to harm him."

Letting out a drawn out breath death didn't mean much, to die was to return to the swamp, to be released from the endless mud and rot back to nothing. It was with the power of Boris the dwarf's gift that the vodka clan could face predators they normally would run from and win. Rapping his...

Lazily with disappointment Boris thumped his tail on the ground as he held his position on watch as everyone fussed over the softskin thief. "Gift Giver, is the softskin finished with her drowing? If she is then we can go where your desires seek." He asked in the dwarven tongue eager to find...

Boris with far, far less urgency than any of his fellows angrily hissed at the softskin in the glass. Inside the large Lizard's head his mind worked with the haste of a horde of squealing greased pigs let loose, numbers came to him easily and were crunched as he understood what the destruction...

Accepting the stick Boris sniffed the cheese covered meat, curious of its scent. Cheese wasn't a common good in the swamp, it was difficult to milk the rats, easier to kill and feast than to keep the vicious prey around. He'd very rarely tasted the strange curled milk. Snapping the meat from...

His nostrils flared taking in the heady scent of prepared meat that filled the air. He took the gift givers flask respectfully and took a swig of the amber mana within before handing it back. To take another beings alcohol was a grievous crime, worthy of death... except if won by arms. Picking...

Waking with a jolt Boris hissed rolling onto his hands and feet poised ready to fight from his sudden awakening, his head swiveling side to side eyes narrowed searching for the disturbance with his piss off alligator hiss impression and waving tail. Seeing no enemy Boris quieted and began...

Testing his cooking meat with his claws finding it to the correct firmness, Boris snapped his jaws in anticipation as he removed the sticks of flesh from the fire devouring the meal with gusto with healthy gulps of bogwine to remind him of a proper meal back in the swamps. Alone he easily...

With a fire already prepared Boris staked out his stick of meat to cook over the fire, he breathed deep of the crackling fat on the meat as he cooked three of the dozen pounds he'd harvested. The remainder of which he began to setup a drying rack for to preserve the succulent flesh. "Gift giver...

Scooping the guts and offal of the rat out Boris separated the two, then discarded the unusable parts by casually throwing them into the bushes returning them to nature to grow something else for him to eat. "Once Boris finishes the readying of food and shield from the rat, then Boris will be...

Pleased that the rats size is sufficient for a shield Boris began the process to harvest the flesh and fashion his shield. Some would be cooked now and the rest dried out as he didn't possess salt. He'd flech sticks to impale the flesh upon for carrying it back to the cart come time to leave...

"Yes." The lizard said with some joy at the prospect of a meal. Boris finished with rendering aid put away his wand and drew his dagger, walking over to the rat he grabbed it and lugged the meal to dry ground to butcher the rat and prepare the meat for cooking. Unbothered by questions of health...

Food! Lumbering through the water Boris fetches the rat wand held at the ready as he's wary and alert for any other packmates it could have nearby. Recovering it he threw it back through the door letting it float out the building before aiding the gift giver in shutting the door to the not swamp.