Osla had arrived in the small village of Toruka early in the morning. She had scouted out the area just as everyone began to work and was dismayed to see that the village that was practically only on the map for being near to the spire and having been used by just about every adventurer to gather more rations or armour for their journey. She at least expected to see some vendor hacking off low budget, inaccurate maps of the spire or some sort of fake merchandise to add to the mystique of said Spire.

But alas, it was just like any other village Osla had seen on her journeys. She had spent the majority of the day selling off her furs and meats before talking to a few of the village folk and finally entering the 'Black Water Tavern' at an early 5pm. Well, early for anyone else, but Olsa. She paced herself up until 8, then she began to drink normally, she wouldn't get drunk, but she would possibly get a bit tipsy. Getting tipsy was a job enough, she could drink just about any of the best strong stomached town drunks under the table in most cases. Her hair was tied back as per usual, the only time it really came out of that style was when she got too drunk to care about practicality or during battle if something snagged on it and ripped the holder out.

Soon enough, the bar was closed and just about everyone was sent out. She surveyed the bar until she spotted the Dwarf that remained seated chatting with the tavernkeep. She wandered over to the table he sat it with a tankard full of ale in hand. She took a seat on the right of the table before beginning to speak.
"Are you the one who gathered me here for the spire?"