Rurik beams with pride as Urgan recounts last night's adventures to the guard. Tipping his hat in a subtle salute, he greets the guard in Dwarven: "Rurik, Heir of Clan Axebender, at your service. Those owlbears were fine eating, too. It's certainly nice to be able to eat what one kills, thanks be to Chennet', and Algram here has the cooking skills to make for some lucky woman a fine wife someday, I assure you!" A small belly laugh escapes Rurik, who catches Algram's eye with a warm smile to indicate that he was, in fact, just teasing.
Rurik gives his pony a friendly pet to convince it that it's not destined for the glue factory, and follows his friends to the inn.
As the party settles into the bar, Rurik takes his customary seat at the table between Ishmael and Sturm, ordering a game hen, potatoes and carrots from the lady, taking out his jug of Mom's ale for anyone who wants to try, and switching back to Common to include everyone in the conversation. "Yer know, Sturm, I been fixin' ta tell ya that were one o' the finest blows I e'er seen a dwarf throw down, what yer did this marnin'. But I cannae imagine how much better ye woulda done if ye'd 'ad yer feet unnerneath ya, like so..."
Rurik stands up to demonstrate the stance for Power Attack, to Sturm. Pantomiming the swing of a scythe, he follows through, almost catching the matron's tray as she brings back the food. "Oi, I'm terribly sorry, ma'am. I were teachin' me friend 'ere a combat technique. I shall siddown now."
