Page 100 - Walker of Realms

The urge to fight this enemy departed when the Dinor spokesman revealed they had no quarrel with humans. They hadn’t come all this way to mete death out indiscriminately, and Torrullin’s mind moved into negotiation mode. He and Tris would appear as human to these…and thus there could be a way to turn them from this course, negotiate a settlement…maybe…until Camot and Krikian were dumped at the temple’s steps. Golden hair and skin and yellow eyes. Unmistakable. Both men were trueblood.
Torrullin looked around, motioning for Tristamil to stay up on the platform. Many. Too many. And he couldn’t employ the Voices. He’d never again use the Voices…but he had broken that promise before.
‘The Valleur evacuated when they heard Margus was coming,’ he said, buying time.
An ugly people. Short in stature, an average of about five feet, but brawny with heavy muscles. Strong, familiar with toil…or war. More likely was raiding, preying on each other, but united now in this quest, an absolution from an ancient oath. Hairy: thick, bushy, dark hair, with full, heavy beards, dark hair on the backs of their hands. Generally swarthy, although a few sallow complexions were in evidence. Square faces, big noses with flaring nostrils- also hairy- and deep-set eyes under protruding brows. They were almost pre-historic in make-up, but their eyes swiftly belied a prehistoric way of thinking, revealing that they were more than first appearances. Not only were the eyes sharp in intelligence, but also startling in colour. There was not a pair of dark eyes among them; startlingly pale- black irises encircled by opal-coloured pupils so light it bled away into the white. There was nothing prehistoric about it; these were the eyes of sorcerers. Unsettling. Disturbing. They wore leather breeches and knee-high boots with blackened spurs protruding from the heels- horse riders or just naturally vicious? Heavy fur coats, roughly worked and smelly, enlarged already broad shoulders, and heavy scimitars hung from a leather harness looped from one shoulder across their barrel chests.