"Good boy." Scorpion grinds the words out through gritted teeth. "Now lead the way to the supplies and begin preparing them." He takes a step back, giving you some room as he watches with a critical eye. It's clear that his patience is wearing thin, but for now you have managed to buy yourself some time by offering your services.

The room beyond is dimly lit, with racks of weapons and armor lining the walls. A large table dominates the center of the space, covered in various foodstuffs, water skins, and medical supplies. The air is thick with the scent of metal and leather, as well as the faintest whiff of blood from previous cleanups.

Scorpion stalks into the room behind you, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the contents. "Bring me food that will replenish my strength quickly,"