[Kransha]

Bror looked up coldly at the new member of the conversation, and the only besides him, now. His left brow cocked simply, gazing up into the honest face of the man. He could not, would not trust men, and would not trust elves, and they didn’t trust him or each other. All the mind’s workings were reduced to rubble in this place of darkness and pain, for no one could think straight when faced with such overbearing, dreadful odds. But, this human seemed set in his goal, however strange or foolhardy it might seem. He put his gauntleted palm and open hand up with veiled reluctance, and shook the hand extended to him, but as no sign of allegiance. He only needed to rely on those who he could trust; he didn’t wish to be bound to them in alliance, for such an act might doom him to their fate. It was all he could do not to instantly pull his hand away, as if the hand that held him was a serpent, clinging to him with venom-wrought fangs so as not to be cast off into the surrounding abyss of shadow.

“I don’t misplace my loyalties, boy.” Bror growled back as he removed his hand, at first hostile with unconcealed belligerence in his gruff, raspy tone, but soon relaxed his grim attitude into one of understanding, and reasoning as he considered the man’s words. “Trust is hard to find down here, and you are right about it in what you say. I don’t trust you, you don’t trust me, and no one trusts any other. I think universal trust, that which you speak of, is a petty impossibility…” Now, though, as his disillusioning speech continued, he saw a sliver of truth in his counterpart’s ideals and was forced to grasp them. “But, I have nothing else to do…Any man who at least tries to extend his hand in friendship shows an admirable quality or two…For now you can trust who you want, and you can trust me if you truly desire, but when she comes, all alliances are rendered useless…Do not think folk who hate each other will help each other in the face of danger.”

“I disagree with that, dwarf.” Zuromor replied briskly, but with some disappointment at not truly recruiting the dwarf to his noble cause. “When she comes, you’ll see.” Bror nodded, again reluctantly, unwilling to even admit to the possibility of being wrong, and ripped his hand away at last, turning on his heels from the group of men and muttering sarcastically as he headed towards his kin, “Indeed. I’m sure I shall.” And as he said thus, he walked slowly, and cautiously, eying the other members of the escapee party with care, towards the other dwarves of the company not far behind.