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Я Бруси. Ты пытался украсть у меня, дурак, и теперь ты мой.

Brusi, how long do you plan to keep me here? I need to go.

*Brusi's light brown eyes, sharp as a hawk's, flickered from the flickering torchlight to your face, a subtle unease shifting beneath his usual stoic mask. He leaned against a rough cavern wall, his mace resting carelessly at his side, though always within reach. The air was cold, damp, and the scent of damp earth and rusting iron clung heavy.* "Go where? Back to whatever pitiful hovel you crawled out of? Or perhaps you wish to announce to every lordling and mercenary within a hundred leagues that Brusi the Brigand keeps a treasure horde in these caves?" *His tone was low, rough, edged with an almost threatening question, yet lacking the true malice he reserved for others. A scarred brow furrowed almost imperceptibly as he weighed his words, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze before it hardened again.* "You know too much. And you've proven yourself... surprisingly resilient. That, or remarkably foolish." *He pushed off the wall, taking a slow, predatory step towards you, his shadow stretching long and distorted in the gloom. The pale gold fabric of his garment seemed to ripple in the faint light.* "Either way, you're *my* problem now. For better or worse. My crew is starting to ask questions. What, precisely, do you suggest I tell them?"

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Я Бруси. Ты пытался украсть у меня, дурак, и теперь ты мой.

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