Adrius was bemused, watching the man rise. He knew he wasn't in the least imposing, so the legless man's reaction was not expected.
"Now, now, don't do anything rash... I got what you want, and I'll gladly give it to you..." the man said, making some movements Adrius couldn't see. "You just... stay there and look pretty, and I'll hand over anything you want."
What did this man take him for? A petty scoundrel? He was dirt-poor, certainly, but-- oh. Knife. Were it possible, Adrius would have gone even -paler-, rigid with terror. It was a gamble, rousing the sleeping. The legless man's reaction seemed more befitting one of the orcish mercenaries in the Val'Nar'Sarkoth stronghold than a beggar. Adrius didn't hear the rest of the man's threats, eyes big and focused very intently on the blade at his neck. This would be a rotten way to go, but perhaps he deserved it; one who lived most their life in the safety of the stronghold, thinking himself able to live on the streets...
Then the blade was removed. Adrius practically collapsed, relieved, as his gaze returned to the legless man's face.
"Pleasure meeting you, young lady." said the man, triggering an involuntary twitch of Adrius' eye. "Don't follow me." And then the man was off, hobbling down the alleyway and into the street.
Adrius spent a few moments blinking dumbly at what had just happened. "I.. Who-- what?" The chemist finally regained enough composure to stumble out of the alleyway after him. 'What could have -him- in such a tizzy?' Adrius wondered, watching him go. Adrius' musings, however, were interrupted as a number of shallow coughs passed through him. The folly of fumes and their exposure. He doubled over for a moment, one hand to his diaphragm and his inner elbow to his mouth--less for the admittedly-low force of the coughs, but more for the abdominal discomfort the fit brought-- before straightening with a high-pitched gasp. Curiosity filled the gap in his thoughts the fit left. He had to know what had that cripple in such a hurry.
Adrius peered out of the alleyway, spying the legless one's retreating figure distant down the road. After a few moments of consideration-- the cripple's warning, the nasty-looking knife-- the chemist straightened up, tried--and failed-- to lift his shoulders, and hurried on after him toward the city gates.