While Narral's kick to the door had merely been a jolly way to announce her presence, Seathan's was just how he handled doors when in a good mood. It was exactly like how he handled doors when in a bad mood as well, except that he didn't actually mean to break anything, things were just too frail to handle him. The poor door practically exploded from its hinges as a massive foot clad in bone-like plate blasted it open, creating a massive dent on one of its sides. All things considered it had fared quite well. Everyone, save perhaps for a few select people, turned to look at the owner of the foot, an equally massive man completely clad in bone-like plate and carrying an intimidating bludgeon, as he entered the inn bellowing with laughter. He was soaking wet, dripping all over the floor, but the smudges of blood on his club and armor had not been completely washed away by the storm. He carried a decently sized bag tied to his waist, and if that hadn't made his good fortune obvious, then his announcement did. "BARKEEP!" he practically howled, his voice booming in the now shocked quiet tavern, "THE NEXT ROUNDS ARE ON ME!". As if remembering something, he gave a quick glance to the demolished door. "A NEW DOOR AS WELL!" he finished, ripping the bag of gold from his waist and shaking it wildly in the air to allow the enticing sound of clinking metal to fill the room.