"... an' quit yer belly achin'. I's not tha' bad." Commanding, gruff, hearty. Dwarf, beard and all. Warhammer resting on one shoulder, shield at the ready in the opposite hand.
"It's the Underdark!" His taller companion shouted. The dwarf stared at him before he repeating, quieter now, "It's the underdark. There's drow everywhere. Spiders, probably some demons or something. Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"You said to me 'Oh Bjorn, mighty dwarf, ye know the lands and the underground. I am but the envoy of a minin' company.' An' I said, 'aye, I know the places. If ye be lookin fer tha best of, richest veins ye look in the underdark.'"
"I did not grovel. Looks, it's just... it's just more dangerous than I expected, all right?"
"An' tha's why ye have me. I get ta crack some goblin's skulls, maybe an uppity elf, an' ye get gold an' other shinies. I's a win win."
He wanted to kill them. Not for intrusion, he no longer held the land sacred, but just because it felt right. Yet this dwarf wanted a fight. Maybe he could use the dwarf. He smiled, stalking the dwarf and the human from the shadow. Yes, scare the dwarf with webs, send him to some shrine. Live or die, the dwarf might give him some time to find something of value. An answer or something to barter. Yes. And then, then he'd kill that damn dwarf.
He stalked them for a good week at least, blocked paths, got them turned around, at one point manage to steal their map away from them. The taller traveler, a human, was terrified by the dwarf kept wanting to go forward. Said the caverns were just taunting it and waiting for a good smacking. Eventually he got the travelers where he wanted, walking straight to some little labor camp with a particularly devout, if not particularly strong or valuable, priestess.