"I do suppose that to be our guest…" Tavar remarked, sipping the tea that Justus had seen made in the battered bronze kettle that had been left hanging over the fire.
A short while later, with an equal degree of loudness, a giant hand thundered through the door, sending it clattering against the wall, and a face already covered in spiralling blue war paint thrust its way inside.
"Tavar?" He said, staring at the man, and then grunting when his memory did indeed align with the man in front of him. "And who are you?"
He pointed at the other two, without even attempting the slightest shred of introduction. His primary concern seemed to be with fitting through the door. Already, he had to duck mightily to try and attempt his way inside, and then he had to turn sideways for the frame of his massive shoulders to fit through.
