A gruff, tall moblin stands menacingly in front of this ruined lighthouse, denying any entrance. A large hammer(no it's not the megaton hammer... sorry) sits in his right hand. His powerful arms look as if he could each support the weapon easily. He glares down at all who approach him, with a frightening, angry look.

Arco steps into view of the moblin and, for a minute, is content with standing around awkwardly, as he absentmindedly preens the dust off his upper garments. After a long stare at the moblin and several nervous glances at the club, he speaks up, voice coming out in cracks and wheezes.

"Are h'you... Grug?" A deep breath. "Who--what exactly are the Exiles? Are you their leader?"

*K-Shat hears the men speaking as he walks by* "The Exiles are a bunch of no good desert dwellers, and they cannot be trusted." *K-Shat gives Grug an evil look then continues walking*

Arco: Me Grug. Who you, small man? Exiles do evil, defy king. Grug lead Exiles for win. Parapa and lighthouse live us. You join?

He never notices him, nor hears K-Shat's comment.

Arco takes a step back, holding his hands up and trying his best to look disinterested (succeeding instead to look flabbergasted and mildly insane).

"No! I, I mean, just. I mean, just already have a... I'm just passing through the desert, now..."

Finishing this awkward monologue, Arco starts to inch away.

Grug seems to not understand Arco, instead he continues on.

"Ah, you nervous. Beer help. Exiles join you..."

Taking a step forward, he offers his canteen which can only be expected to be filled with Grog. A strong stench flows from the brim, permeating through even the corked top. Grug smiles lethargically, as if showing off his remaining teeth proudly:

"DRINK!"

Arco swallows, both a gesture of discomfort and one of preparation, and fixes his eyes on the mouth of the bottle. After staring at it--and for a moment, Grug's hammer--for a while, he gingerly receives the bottle from the Moblin, and uncorks it with some difficulty.

Arco holds a skeptical eye to the bottle's maw before very quickly sloshing the bottle upwards and then back down, trying his best not to swallow any.

Wiping his mouth off, he holds the bottle in front of him, back to Grug.

"Er... thanks," he says.

As Blank sees the fearsome Moblin in front of him, he feels an old rage building inside, one that was meant to be quenched long ago. Seeking answers, the nomad approaches Grug Lugford and keeps his cool, trying not to get on the Moblin's dark side.

Hello, there! Grug Lugford, correct? I have heard many tales of your strength, your name is mentioned with fear throughout the kingdom. I have not come to join your exiles, but believe me, I hold no resentfulness towards your faction. I have come to ask you certain questions regarding Crascus Vihn, the renegade Moblin that you have been after. I understand there is a reward, but tell ne, Grug, where might I find him. Those worthless Goriyas will tell nothing to anyone!

Blank is clearly lying to the Exile. He has only heard of the Moblin from a drunk in the village north of here. But he seeks a promised reward, and wants nothing more than to bring the renegade to Lugford and claim the prize.

OOC: I understand this quest is going to be revived, so I figured I may as well start to get involved

Grug happily grins throughout Blank's exalting lies, blissfully overlooking the comment that the man does not intend to join the Exiles, something that would normally cause him to start swinging his hammer around. But even Blank's praises can't stop him from becoming furious at the mention of Crascus Vihn. The hammer smashes into the ground - fortunately not too close to Blank - as the Moblin clenches his fists in anger. "Crascus Vihn! Bad Moblin, very bad. Attack even Exiles - want harm Grug! Grug leader, not i-di...idi...idiot! Idiot Vihn!

His voice becomes annoyed. "Grug no know where Vihn be! That why Grug give reward to one who find Vihn, little man! You find Vihn, Grug give you money...and beer! Beer help always!" He quickly grabs his canteen and chugs the remainder its contents, then reaches into the building and pulls out another canteen. It seems to calm him down somewhat, to the comfort of all who have seen his hammer. His voice softens as well. "Goriya worthless, Grug know. So you look harder! Goriya like desert. Not Parapa Desert, but...ah...uh...Manturu...Mantara...Tantara! Goriya like Tantara Desert best! You look there!" He grins, oblivious to the fact that he still doesn't have the name correct.

But the Moblin isn't done with Blank yet. He shoves the new canteen into his face. "After have beer! Beer help all time!"

Moblin beer? Probably tastes like Lizalfos piss...

Blank takes the beer and dumps it out when he believes Grug is not looking, then grabs his own flask and takes a deep swig of his own ale.

Good stuff. Er, anyway, I'd best be off, Grug. Gotta find that Vihn fella and bring him back here for you and all.

The nomad inches towards the door, then turns and runs off towards the Desert Exit, hoping to make it the Woods by nightfall to escape the freezing temperature of the desert night.

So, I might be able to find a helpful Goriya in Tantari. Good. This reward is as good as mine.

Blank laughs to himself as he runs, and is forced to spit out a mouthful of sand that he has kicked up in his swift pace.

Some time passed since then...

"Father just had to do this to us! Why do we have to go all the way into this bloody desert! I mean; why can't he just show the Exiles that we are with him!"

"Shut up, Asudem!" Yelled a twisted form of a Zora to a twisted Sheikah. "He can't because we need to be debuted more officially than just saying we're related to him!"

"Yeah, sure. He did it for Rotiart!" Asudem complained.

"Well, Rotiart is a shape-shifter! He made himself official by tricking the boss."

"The little brat"

"Sis, will you ever just shut up! He's even older than you!" The Zora yells.

"Both of you, shut up!" Yells a twisted morph of a half Human, Half Hylian. "Noruas, you say so much about being older, but you aren't the oldest here! And Asudem, you don't ever know when to shut up! I thought Sheikahs were supposed to be quite people!"

"Well I'm a half Sheikah, Nonag!"

"I said shut the he-"

"Over there!" interupts a Human, his voice almost a laugh. "There's Grug!"

"About time! I'm thirsty!" says Noruas.

They apporach Grug. 6 figures, most a combination of Human and another. Nonag spoke. "Hey there, Grug! We've come here to become Exiles! Father told us about it; Duelblade." He smiled. Nonag was an orc; a cross between a Hylian and a Human, making a mockery of what their gifted bodies looked like, who had duel axes sheathed on his back, and duel swords on his belt. Asudem was half Human, half Sheikah; a female, though, who was armed with a pair of daggers, a Violin on her back, and a pouch that held an ocarina. Noruas was a half Human, half Zora, who had a lail and ax on his belt. Beside them was another half Sheikah, but a male. He had a longsword sheathed on his back. The plain Human was unarmed... by what was visible... Another half shiekah was with them, who looked even more twisted than the others. He was quieter than the others. He, too, was unarmed.

Nonag continued. "Yeah, I would be Nonag, the unarmed half Sheikah is Itaav, the unarmed Human is Natas, the armed sheikah who's a male is Sedah, and the bard lady is our sister, Asudem, and finally the half Zora is Noruas. We'd like to join the Exiles."

"More than like!" Added Asudem

"I said Shut up!" Roared Nonag. He turned back to Grug. "Well, how 'bout it?"

OOC: Yeah, RG, I, uh, I'll get the stats and profile in tomorrow; I'm going to bed soon. thanks.
-Nogare

Garland walks up to Grug and ask's I would be honard
if u will let me join the exiles ...

OOC: Can my NPC join the Exiles? He's supposed to be a dark lord. I am going to pos this story in my profile sometime soon, if you need more info. IF he can...

IC: Flames burst up in a circle on the ground, eight feet high, but then die out just as quickly as they had come. When the fire had subsided, in the middle of where they had been stood a man. Dark, tall, and powerful, he had black armor covering his body, and a black helmet shrouded his face. Standing in front of the moblin, he askes, "MIght moblin. It would be an honor and privelige if I could join the worthy cause of the exiles. If I may..." His voice trails off, waiting for an answer.

Grug nods happily and pounds his chest. "Yeees! I Grug, lead Exiles. You enter, good friend!" He moves aside to allow the strange man entrance into the Exile's hideout...but not before holding out his canteen. "Here! Drink beer!!! All Exiles drink beer!"

The man accepts his offer, taking a swig of his canteen, but bieng sure that the edge doesn't touch his lips. Moblin Slober is a disgusting thing, especially if the moblin in question is drunk. He says in Moblinish, "Thank you, my friend. My name is Pearanus. I was once a general in Ganondorf the Great's army. I was one of his favorites, and I was probably the most powerful man in the army, second only to Ganondorf himself. But then that accursed 'Hero of Time' showed up... the army fell apart, and following many battles, each general got thier own army to command, and we went our seperate ways. I lurked in the shadows, keeping out of history and using magic to lenghten my life until the moment was right... but listen to me babble on and on. Lead on, fellow moblin, lead on."