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"Ummm," Brogan began, shifting his weight from one hoof to the other, unsure of how to phrase his question, "Runescar? What are you going to do?"

The scarred minotaur snorted derisively and rolled his eyes. "Where do you think I'm gonna' go, calf? Thanks to you I lost my only source of food and shelter, meager as it was, and I have no one to turn to here."

Brogan's face burned in shame under his fur. "You could..." he muttered. "You can stay with me and my family," he said, a little louder. "I mean, there's a lot of room at the brewery, and my father's always looking for strong backs."

Runescar snorted again and shook his head. "Seems wherever I go I'm either a slave or servant. It's been a long fall indeed..."

"What do you mean by that?" Brogan leaned in, clearly intrigued.

"Hell if I'll ever tell you, calf," Runescar growled as he stood up.