Soran watched his companions, first Guthwine, then Rudgar, charge into the Inn with weapons drawn. He winced in sympathy when the skillet came down on Rudgar's head, and hid behind some bushes when the men came rushing into the Inn. He watched through a window as they bound the two bandits and dragged them away.
Well, now what? Should he go back and tell Lotar what had happened, or should he go in the Inn himself and risk getting caught as well? Oddly enough, the second choice was more appealing. While there was no love lost between them, Soran could sympathize with Guthwine's worry for his son. Besides, he felt a bit paternal towards Rudgar.
Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Soran stood (mentally noting, again, that he shouldn't crouch on the ground. Joint pain was not good) and knocked on the door with the pommel of his sword.
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