Suddenly, the door of a nearby tavern was flung open and an intoxicated beard with legs (also known as a dwarf) was spat out onto the street. As the door slammed shut behind him, Durwith Bronzebeard picked himself up and brushed himself off. Though the day was supposed to be 1 of happiness and festivities, Durwith was even grumpier than he usually was. He'd been thrown out of the watch earlier that day for asinine reasons, and now he had been thrown out of his favorite tavern for even more asinine reasons. Needless to say, Durwith wasn't having the best day. With nothing better to do, Durwith had a wonder around the festivities. "Wonder if the goblin fights are open" Durwith mused to himself as he navigated his way through the crowd in search of something to do.