[center][h2]Torsten[/h2][/center]

Rain, it always rained in this place, each time he had come in the past, it was raining. He spotted something unusual for this place, an elf. He watched, analyzed the woman as she walked, and where she walked. He figured quickly they would be going to the same place, and he sauntered across the street letting water splash to his footsteps. Each one dragging him behind the woman until she entered a den of laughter and jubilee. The man let beads hand from his hands as he opened the door soon after the woman entered another room. 

Dorian was there, a man similar to himself but still different. He stared at him, and approached as he began his journey back to his place at the table. He didn't make it there as a brute stood before him with prayer beads and a coin. A tall bearded man covered in pelts, metal, and cloth soaked in water. 

"I assume that is the correct place," Torsten said as he nodded towards the door, eyeing it with the corner of his eye. 

"It is," Dorian said quietly.

"Other?" Torsten asked

"Yes," Dorian replied, opening the door for the man to walk through.

"Then I will wait," he said, leaning down and entering the room; looking around, he assumed correctly that the elf was there. He listened to the door behind him close. There would be more coming, good people meant support, now only if they worked well together."

His hand raised empty as he bowed his head, "Lady elf, it is good to meet you..." the man almost grumbled in a friendly way, "We are the first, it seems."

Torsten looked around the room and found himself a place on the other couch, turning it towards the woman, and letting his packs fall to his sides before he sat in what looked to be a chair to him. He looked as if it was a chair, and he fits into it like a glove; it was Torsten-sized. Quietly he pulled his hand through his beard, and let his back relax into the seat. 

"I am Torsten."