[b][center][h3][i][color=746f6f]Nor[/color][/i][/h3]
[color=#746f6f]Location:[/color] Crossed Swords Tavern
[color=746f6f]Interacting with:[/color]Satilla, Kyra, Thomas[/center][/b]
Nor couldn't help but notice every minor detail of the girl's hand when he took it for a handshake. It was something that happened every so often, and he wasn't sure why. Her hand was soft, but that was no surprise. Women, especially of the non-Dwarven variety tended to have soft hands, and she didn't look the type to be doing the kind of hard work necessary to build up thick callouses. By contrast, Nor's hands were wide, and thick-skinned, but not rough. At least mostly. He'd done a lot of rough-work in his army days, but those were a distant time's past and nowadays he didn't do so much manual labor. The body had an annoying way of getting lazy if something isn't being used all the time.

It was then that the entire inn seemed to collectively look in one place and gawk. The direction up wasn't naturally in a dwarf's peripheral vision, so it took him a second to catch on and figure out what the 9 Hells everyone had gotten their knickers in a knot over. Why, it was just that chef bloke from the last night taking his morning dump. What was the sodding deal? Everyone had to answer Nature's call whether they liked it or not, and although doing it in full view of everyone was disgraceful, sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

That said, he didn't like looking at it, and averted his eyes at his earliest convenience. The wisdom of joining this group came more into question with every passing minute. Bringing his attention back to the people in the tavern, the only remaining members of the party that were unaccounted for were the two halfbreeds. Where the hell where they?