Hysaeda rushed away from the dregs of dizziness and pushed against the hands of the large man, eventually succeeding in tearing away his sausage fingers. He looked dirty and exhausted. And no doubt in no mood to deal with a couple of travelers passing through. Nonetheless, Hysaeda watched the other man snarl viciously as he moved out of the way for them to pass through at Ghost's insistence.
He skirted down the steps, tugging the Cleric after him, keeping his eyes warily on the man.
The man, it seemed, was content in letting them pass when suddenly he called out to them, "Hey, don't run into me again, black savage. Your kind don't belong here and if I catch you again, I'll rip your goddamn head off." Then he looked at Ghost and smirked lasciviously.
Hysaeda gave him nothing more than a nod of understanding before nudging Ghost's arm and said, "Let's go..." As he walked away, his face was placid. Though that did nothing to convey the tumultuous flames that burned on the inside.
[I think it might be interesting to throw a racist in there. He'll probably show up later just to cook up some trouble, if you don't mind.]