*A knock on the outer Ironhouse doors*

A skinny worn looking figure is camped by the Ironhouse doors, he knocks a few times, he staggers around looking over his shoulder then his back towards the door, skittish in his actions. He would heard muttering request for sanctuary that could fleeting echoes filled the halls.

(Eric Tibus)

*Garok, who usually camps inside the ironhouse caves hears the rackett and walks over to the figure. His catlike eyes widen adjusting to the dark to see the figure. He smiles, his fangs and tusks glimmer slightly in the dark. The hulking figure places his hands on his hips and asks kindly.*

"Do you need any help? And are you ok? If you want to speak to one of the dwarves I can go get one for you. In the meantime would you like to wait at my camp?"

*The large man speaks in a calm helping voice that seams to almost juxtapose his apperance*