Gryz, Dorin, Pana, Chaz

Chaz chuckled heartily as he tucked into another chicken leg. "That's funny, Dorin, but I won't have you talking about Rika like that, understood?"
"Alright, alright, Chaz - but I don't think you came here to swap stories and measurements." Joked Dorin, narrowly avoiding a playful swat from Chaz.
"I don't know what it is, Dorin, just a feeling that something... Isn't right."
"Go on, " Muttered the old man through a leg of chicken.
"Well, it's pretty obvious really. I mean, I'm in between jobs at the moment, but even after Dark Force's defeat the jobs continue to pour in... The biomonsters continue to thrive, which is explainable considering their technological background, but the planet still deteriorates, and evil men are everywhere. It's just not right." Chaz looked downcast.
"Aaaah, you're worrying about that main quest you've set yourself, aren't you? You're afraid that the Dark One will bring Dark Force back with him?" Chaz nodded solemnly. "I doubt there is any need to worry about that... You and the other Protectors banished Dark Falz for at least another millenia, the world is at peace now - evil always exists, but not all-encompassing evil. Without evil or women, and sometimes a combination of the two, life would be no fun." Chaz laughed at the old Motavian's comical expression. Suddenly, Dorin almost choked on his chicken bone at the sight at his door. Chaz turned around, the mirth evaporating quickly as he took in the scene.
Gryz stood framed in the doorway, behind him, at least 3 burly Motavians held up a fourth, who looked a little worse for wear. If not that, at least a little pale. WhiteShadow decided to himself that he was at least suffering from a mild concussion, and if he could just get his hands free, and stop the room from spinning, he could heal himself with no problems. Both were impossible at the moment, however.
Chaz leapt to his feet, grabbing Elysedon. Dorin, however, remained seated and raised a placating hand. "Hold your sword, Chaz. He can't harm us in that state." Calming down, Chaz sat. He glared intensely at "the one that got away", however.
"Bring him here, Gryz." Motioned Dorin, sipping some water to help unclog his throat. As the four Motavians entered the large tent, a smaller one darted between their legs and sat in Dorin's lap.
"How are you, Grandfather?" Asked Pana brightly.
"What are you doing here, my little spark?" Asked Dorin, petting MewMew gently.
"I came to see what's happening with Mr. Whitey over there, " She answered politely.
With a groan, WhiteShadow raised his head a fraction. "That's WhiteShadow, actually, Panaaa..." He let his head drop.
Dorin looked at WhiteShadow with concern on his face, before Pana piped up again. "He fell from Gryz's tree helping MewMew." Dorin smirked.
"Why are you holding him like that? He's just a fellow Motavian who fell from a tree helping a little girl - let him up, and let him heal already."
The Motavians holding WhiteShadow looked to Gryz, who nodded once, so they dropped their captive unceremoniously and left. Picking himself up out of the dirt, WhiteShadow bruched himself down, winced from the pain, and lifted his hands to his head, chanting quietly. A soft blue glow surrounded his head for a moment, and suddenly he could stand straight and open his eyes wide once more. His first question was simple. "Dorin, is that what you are called?" The old Motavian nodded. "Why have you shown me compassion... And how did you know I could heal myself? For all you knew if they had dumped me on the floor I would've stayed like that unless I had some unheard of regeneration powers other than magical..."
"Hold," Said Dorin quietly. "For one who has rarely spoken and avoids contact with others, you talk too much."
"How do you know so much about me?" Asked WhiteShadow, still a little dazed and now definitely confused.
"The Motavians don't call me Grandfather for paternal reasons, WhiteShadow," Smiled Dorin. "My, rather slim Esper powers allow me to not only watch for all the good gossip, but also to watch over all the Motavians in the Tonoe area; if you had lived outside Molcum you would have escaped my notice completely - but then again, I probably would have heard about your birth no matter what. The birth of the Harbinger of Doom is no small event."

being that they only want in to get the bounty on my head. You're blonde-headed friend over there is one, Dorin."
Chaz's head snapped up. "I let you go, didn't I? Besides, you're not part of my quest. Perhaps I am searching for the true dark one - the true Harbinger of Doom. Considering your history, and Dorin says that you've had contact with this... Creature, I do however need you to come with me."
WhiteShadow immeadiately tensed as Chaz rose from his seat, pulling Elysedon from its scabbard. "Are you going to come quietly? I need you to come to Aiedo."
Dorin seemed to roll his eyes. "I warned you..." His gravelly voice muttered.
WhiteShadow wanted no part of this; he knew of Aiedo, and knew exactly where Chaz wanted to take him; the Hunter's Guild, where all those that sought to hunt WhiteShadow down resided, and where they picked up their bounties for deeds done, righteous or heinous. Just the thought of entering a city was bad enough, but entering such danger under the custody of one he didn't even trust, barely even knew, was suicide! Palmans couldn't be trusted.
Drawing his own scimitars, WhiteShadow prepared to come along as loudly as possible.
Behind him, he heard Gryz unstrap his own rather hefty axe, weighting it in his two hands, prepared to help Chaz out. The only exit was blocked, but it was not like the walls were made of stone...
Chaz nodded to his former party member and the two began to charge on the WhiteShadow, left stranded between them. With no time to act or to cast a spell, WhiteShadow relied purely on instinct, as he rolled out of harm's way. The two attackers, stopping their charge, turned quickly and effortlessly, chopping down at the still moving WhiteShadow.
"Damn, he's fast," grunted Gryz.
Leaping to his feet, WhiteShadow found himself inches from the table. Somersaulting backwards at an astounding speed, he landed on the table itself, his booted feet perched precariously between some steaming chicken and a bowl of potato salad. Seeing his adversaries mere centimetres away, WhiteShadow leapt backward once more, as the heavy axe and the bright sword slammed into the table, sending foodstuffs flying everywhere.
"My eyes!" Cried Chaz, clutching at his face.
"He's getting away!" Cried Gryz, struggling to remove his axe from the table.
Chaz removed the salad from his eyes just in time to see WhiteShadow slice the canvas of the tent and disappear into the night. Throwing his sword down in frustration, the hunter turned to Dorin, who was quietly picking food out of his fur.
"Dammit Dorin, I told you not to use so much dressing!"