The squat figure shambled down the road leaving the docks, stumbling every now and again with each heavy step. The only things helping him keep his balance were the large pack on one shoulder that gently clanked its contents with each step, and the massive war hammer resting on the other. 

"Damn the bloody ocean." he grumbled. "Damn that bloody ship. And damn that that bloODY, SON OF A GOBLIN WHORE PIRATE!" His frustrated yelling was punctuated by his nausea attempting a reenactment of his four day journey. Bjoric managed to keep it down to a small belch, tasting of the rancid grog that had been given to him with promises of quieting his stomach, which almost started the process over again.

"I need a drink." With a deep breath he pushed on, stopping at the first tavern that didn't stink of fish. Pushing through the door of the Oasis he was greeted with the comforting smells of fresh food and ale. Shuffling to the bar and finding a vacant seat, he dropped his belongings to the floor, drawing fourth his purse and digging out a few coins. "Your darkest ale." He said, placing the coins on the bar after heaving himself into the stool that was clearly not built with dwarves in mind.

Replacing the purse to his belt, he couldn't help feel how unnervingly light it was becoming. He was going to need to find some work before he'd be able to carry on. The tavern keep placed the tankard in front of Bjoric, "Thank ye." With that he brought the tankard to his lips and took a long draw of the almost black ale. Having drained half of it stopped to let out a contented sigh of relief, the nausea being washed away by the bitter liquid. Looking around he saw that this was popular establishment, many of the patrons wearing clothes far finer than his own. Next his eyes were drawn to a notice board with papers stuck to it.

Deciding to take a closer look he hopped from his stool, placing his hammer in his pack and slinging both over his shoulder he took up his half-empty tankard and made for the board. A quick scan and another sip of ale revealed most of the notices to nothing more than menial labor, until he saw one with nothing more than the reward of 1,000 gold pieces and direction to a table to inquire further. Looking to the table described he saw that three other had already gathered there, including a mountain of a man that he was surprised he hadn't noticed earlier. Making his way over he was able to see that one of the others was an elf maiden, the third figure was wearing a cloak which made it hard to see her face.

"Moradins beard your a big one ain't ye." he remarked, as the man seemed to only get taller once Bjoric reached the table. "I gather ye are all here 'or the mountain o gold this fool's ofer'n too?"