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

Thurin nodded to the Halfling lass and Man as they approached. He'd never been one to say 'oh goodness I am glad you're ok! Oh me oh my!' but they seemed decent folk. He merely patted his horses side, glancing toward the fire that was increasing down the hill. "[color=999999]Dark sorcery. What would cause such a thing.[/color]" he lamented in a mutter, clearly both angry and slightly perturbed at the raising of the dead and the burning of men now that he had time to reflect. 

He took this new ensorced ring gingerly and suspiciously. He trusted Ofnir enough, but such things did not often sit well with his sensibilities. Still, he barreled through his unease and slipped it over his thick and burly ring finger, flexing his hand. Good, it didn't seem to mess with how he could grab or wield his axe or shield it seemed. 

The Dwarf headed off with the rest of his new Fellowship, feeling a bit of trepidation and righteous fury embarking upon this new quest. His only regret was that his tired steed still hadn't had much rest or warmth since their journey into the mountains. He made sujre to place a thick horse blanket atop him and let him sleep through the night with the rest of them. Good horsey.