[center][h2][color=999999]Thurin Stoutarm[/color][/h2][/center] 

The Dwarf had yet to fall asleep, still getting comfortable after his long and weary trek. He had done a few stretches, and taken off his sturdy boots before reaching into his pack to get his pipe, before realizing that he'd lost it on the hike through the mountains. He grumbled at his blasted luck, and heard the stairs creaking as someone approached. He figured it was some fool drunk who hadn't yet made it into his chambers at this late hour. 

He decided to have a hearty meal before sleeping instead, and chowed down on his trail rations as he heard some feet dragging along the hallway past his door. Seemed like something metallic was rattling across the ground too. Thurin huffed "[color=999999]bloody drunkards.[/color]" he muttered to himself, and bit down on his meat and potatoes, eating happily. His thick stomach having been deprived of food for too long. He burped, and then heard many footsteps creaking from downstairs. What, was this a party? 

The dagger hitting the floor from across the hall caused the Dwarf to fly out of his room not seconds later, Axe in hand. "[color=999999]HA! KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING FISHY GOING ON![/color]"