It's the next morning and Rifkin already has the campfire blazing and the drool inducing smell of cooking meat has all the varied hounds sitting nearby, hopeful for a tasty morsel.
Despite their near-death experiences of the previous evening, everyone is fully recovered, thanks to the bard's magical ministrations and a full night's rest. Only the elven Arowe still feels slightly tired but at least his strength has finally, fully returned.
The powerful were-creature; Kane is dead and the camp's secure. The seven wolf carcases littered around the bottom of the slope make Liga Bur feel a little sad in his soul but he's had time now to process that hard necessity. He's also had time to review the battle in his head.
Liga Bur eyes' widen as he comes to a realisation...
All of his riding dog: Mir Hundur's trained commands are in orcish, for obvious reasons. Speaking halfling in the Darkstar camp was frowned upon by his adoptive father and would have invited mockery from his clan brothers, but he still clearly remembered the language of his infancy.
The old Dork's original master had been an odd, unnatural mix, but half of the Three-Quarterling's parentage was the same as his. In fact, he'd even heard the half-halfling shout orders to the weird horse/owl Howl creature during the slaughter in the secret garden!
Looking over to the, still slightly podgy, winged creature, Liga Bur firmly calls out 'Come' in the halfling tongue. Despite his doubts, the normally stern ranger is delighted when the Dork obediently rises, waddles over, sits directly in front of him and wags his rudder-like tail in expectation of a treat.
He's such a good boy!
The Dork is actually very well trained and knows the following six commands:
1) Attack
2) Down
3) Come
4) Fetch
5) Seek
6) Guard
Handle animal DC: 10 skill check.
Bark! Woof! Grr! Liga Bur changes his name to Dr Doolittle!
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