Lumpy

Lumpy actually does stop, though he doesn't look eitherr intimidatec by the resistance put up, nor swayed by their attempts at persausion. Instead, his thick features flex into something approximately incredulous, "Yeah, sure, let's all sit down, put aside our weapons, put a pot'a tea on the fire, and compare notes. That way when the dark elves cross the chasm with some other bridge or whatever, we can all be unprepared with our backs to a dead end, and die properly."

He shakes his flail again impatiently, pausing in his speech long enough to rattle of a few colorful curses in orcish, then continues, "Or, if the prospect of being alive appeals ta ya somehow, we should, say.. move and talk all at the same time. Not too complicated fer ya, is it? Because otherwise, whether I die fighting all'a ya, or a pack of drow ain't gonna make any difference in an hour or so."

Always talking.. you'd think they were on the surface the way they waste time.