"Leave this place!" a voice shouted down from up on the battlements of the castle.  Up between two of stones on the castle wall was a dark silhouette of a helmeted figure.
    "Please good sir!  We seek shelter from the rain!" Garalt shouted back, "we are willing to pay for lodging!"
    "Yew are na welcome here travelers!  This be not some inn!  Gew back the way yew came!"  The voice shouted back.  Garalt and Aylia looked at each other, and then at the rest of the group.
    "We require your assistance!"  Garn called up to the figure, but received no reply.
    "What do we do now?" Greylen asked meekly.      
    "Good Sir!" Garalt shouted back, "we..."
    "Begone!" the figure interrupted, reappearing upon the battlements.
    "Can we at least stay long enough to wait out this weather?!" Garalt called back.
    "Yew're new welcome, wha don't ye understan?  Dew ya have too much wax in yewr airs, boy?"
    "We are on a long and noble quest good sir!  We were told to come here by the village in the valley to the west!"  Garalt answered.
    "Then yew were told wrong!" the person replied.
    "Awful friendly, he is," Tundrock shook his head.
    "We beg of you good sir!," Aylia pleaded, "give us refuge from this storm at least!"
    "It be too dangerous for yew here!  Gew hoom before its too late!"  the figure warned.
    "Is he threatening us?" Drakon asked the group, squeezing the handle of his sword tightly.
    Suddenly a torrent of noises started errupting from within the castle.
    "Look out, it be loose!"
    "Quickly new, shoot it!"
    "It be too fast fewr me!"
    "Ee'll make me mead from it's fluids!"
    "Blast, it be gettin away!"
    "It's gewin over tha wall!"