Guligak follows the rest of the group, off to the battlements presumably.
"Just remember -- any excuse we can find to get a peek inside the place, we take it. I bet I can boss around anyone I find, in case they ask why we're there." He gives his most menacing grin.
Guligak smiles, showing his cracked and broken teeth to the guard.
"I've been here almost one day already, and I haven't cut anyone's head off. My sword is getting restless. Maybe your boss can pay me, and I can cut off the heads of some Andorens, yes? Andoren heads are as good as any others. They all make the same sound when they hit the ground."
Guligak shrugs. "I'll try to get a job. Hopefully the baron's guards do more fighting than we've been doing so far. I haven't punched anyone in the face all day!"
"Excellent idea Guli, shall we kill the dog handler as well?, leave a trail of death in our sneaking..."
Guligak grins. "See? I have taught you a lot so far! Just yesterday you were talking about attacking a pile of sand, and now you are making good suggestions! I was just planning on killing the dogs, but killing Shenk is O.K., too."
Guligak smiles. "Yup. We met the baron's nephew, Bumbo. He's a good man, but there's something wrong with his head. He tried to trick us, though; he pretended to not know anything about swords, but he didn't fool me. Maybe someone cast a spell on him."
"That depends. Did those children and cripples insult me? Because that's asking for a boot to the head. That's how the weak learn to respect the strong."
Guligak; As you watch the young man swing the sword, something in your gut tells you that there's something more at work here. You definitely get the feeling that he's faking ineptitude with the sword.
"Hmmm...not bad, but I'm sure you could do much better. MUCH better." He takes back his sword.
"I don't know if meeting your uncle would be useful. Does he like to help people out? Does he like to fight?
What do you think about him? Do you like him or not?"
"I like you guys! We're best friends!" Bumbo leans in to hug the both of you, squeezing you with his thin arms. "Where did you come from, anyway?"
"I come from the land of ice and snow, where men are men! But now I am exiled down here with my wives and my 5 sons until I can raise an army. Then I can return and smash my enemies."
"Hmmm...do you think your uncle the baron could help me? He must have a powerful army. I could make you my general! Have you ever used a sword?"
Guligak offers Bumbo the use of his sword and points to a nearby stump. "Try chopping that stump over there. Let's see how you handle a real man's weapon!"
Guligak grunts. "So your uncle is a baron, huh? I wish I was a baron. Then I could have fifty wives giving me strong sons -- like you, Bumbo -- and if anyone from Cheliax or Andoran tried to tell me what to do, I'd chop him up and stick his head on a pike!"
"'Gak and I are too likely to scare off someone opening their door."
"Sometimes scaring people is handy. And fun, too. You should try it some time." Guligak smiles at pleasant memories of making other clansmen soil their britches.
"YEAH! STUPID DOGS BE QUIET!" Guligak hollers helpfully.
"HELLO, DOG-MAN! YOUR DOGS ARE NOT VERY BRAVE, I THINK. I, GULIGAK, CAN HOWL LOUDER AND LONGER THAN THEY CAN! DO YOU WORK AT THE PALACE?" he continues to shout.
Guligak howls back at the dogs, trying to be twice as loud and intimidating. Froth flies from his lips and his eyes roll alarmingly. He whirls his sword threateningly at the pack as well.
As soon as the meal is over, Guligak practically drags the others to Smaar's blacksmith shop. Once they're there, he points out the ribbon-and-mistletoe sign by the shop's door.
"Well, we're not working for Dolp anymore. He cut us loose, a merchant doesn't need guards if he can't travel. We'll need to find work in town til this blows over."
"Not that boss," Guligak grunts enigmatically. "Smaar will tell you himself after I'm done eating."
You can read all of the Guligak spoilers if you want; he's not going to hide anything that's going on, but he doesn't want to talk about it in public.
"Bah! I've been walking around earning my keep while you soft southerners are resting in this flophouse? Bring me beer and meat, and I will tell you about my new shields. Smaar the blacksmith made them. After you eat, you should go see his wares too." Guligak nods knowingly.
Guligak puts his sword away and grunts with approval at the new shield. "Hmm. Looks good. But what's it made out of? Among my people, we say that mistletoe has magic that can help out in a fight. Have you ever heard of this saying?" His eyes flicker towards the ribbon stuck in his armour.
"Hail, Smaar! I am Guligak, angekok of Gorum. May your weapons be always dripping with the gore of your foes!" He slams his mailed fist into his battered breastplate.
"I care nothing for my shield. It just needs to keep me safe from cowards, assassins and elves until I can sink my sword into their bowels." He begins to draw his sword by way of demonstration...
"I will go smash down the castle gates with my bare hands. Ha ha, I make a joke. I think I will walk around the town and look for ribbons. And maybe buy a new shield." He glowers at the indignity.
Guligak wolfs down whatever food is set in front of him without pausing to taste it. He belches loudly, removes his armor, and falls asleep until it's time for his watch.
"Pallaet, I owe you a debt. I will not forget what you did for me today, and by Gorum I mean to pay you back! Now let's leave this s***hole filled with traitorous, cowardly trolls who refuse to fight like men."
Guligak is still filled with rage, but it's directed mostly at himself.