[Orant's Peaks] Troubling Kobolds

Eighty-Seven moved through the brush, carrying what might have normally be considered a overburdening load even for a horse, yet with the invigoration that ran through his veins, as well as the fact he was use to this sort of thing when he was a child, he found it to be fairly easy to trek with this rucksack of various equipment. He had done some research upon the subject of this hunt, and it was the main reason he had chosen not only to carry all of this equipment willingly, but to present himself as a more suitable target to attempt to snatch goodies from. The talkative one commented on how scouts could have equipment snatched, and the criminal gave a slight chuckle. "You could ask them yourself. Kobolds are conversable, though I ponder your understanding of such fluent vocabulary." Eighty-Seven stated, as he trudged along behind the group. It was logical that Marcus was at the front. His actions alone had shown he was a dead-eye with Dragonrend. "Besides, perception is based upon the individuals watching. Have you ever seen a magician at work?" the blond man asked Anthony, all while Eighty-seven feigned a stumble with the heavy rucksack, taking a momentary glance for any trace of sudden disturbance. A brush suddenly stopping, a sway of foliage that might have been the wind, or even a hint of dust or rocks rolling suddenly from something or anything attempting to hide out of view.

He honestly doubted that his fascade would work. The talkative one was right. Scouts were perceptive. Unless they were tricked and didn't want to admit it, few were willing to put their pride on the line especially with something like kobolds. Weak creatures in comparison to some of the monstrosities he glanced at in the archives. "know your enemy, know yourself...." Eighty-seven repeated a mantra from his younger days.... His murder of the carnival troupe was premeditated, but as he had explained to his superior, that was a lifetime ago. He was a hunter now. He was not that man who was executed.

{Eighty-seven feints weakness by "accidentally" stumbling to glance behind him for any sign of being followed.}