Drelik Letholdus strolls along the docks, fuming, enraged, and unsure of what to do with the mess that is his companions.
Stopping, and sighing, he puts his hands behind his back, and sees the flier in the corner of his eye, turns his head back, but then springs his head back.
Drelik tears down the sign, looking at it, and lowers his red bandana
"What the ****!"
Drelik lets the red bandana slip around his neck, and sits down on a barrell on the docks, next to the ship he once sailed away from his troubles with.
Drelik puts his fingers, gripping his head tightly, veins and muscles popping
"Gah!"
He unsheathes his axe, and throws it into the woodwork of the dock, he looks up seeing someone looking at another poster auction for Ameroth.
"The fawk, the fawk are you looking at!" Drelik stands up, picking the axe up again pointing it at the man "You better not ******* think about It, Or I'll turn your skin into a fuckin' fishnet, and use you for deep sea fishin'!"
The man, his eyes on the red bandana the whole time, rather than the axe mutters "I am sorry Lord August Flay, I will be going now!"
Drelik ponders, "August? What in the.. We don't even look alike"
Looks to the drawning of Ameroth "I tought you to fight, It's your fault"
Crumpling the paper, he throws it into the water.
"To think, you would've been my squire."
Throws his cigar into the water, ontop of the flier.