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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Scotley" data-source="post: 4641625" data-attributes="member: 11520">RogashThe Dwarf woke in a fit of coughing and sat up on the bed just before dawn. He stretches his sore limbs and examines half a dozen healing cuts and bruises. His body is battered, but he feels pretty good. For only the second or maybe third night in a row he hadn't drank himself into unconsciousness. Taking out a comb he begins the laborious task of re-braiding his beard and hair. Then he gathers his armor and weapons where he abandoned them on the floor last night. Another considerable amount of labor is required to restore edges and provide a proper cleaning and adjustment. Eventually, everything is strapped into place and he goes in search of food. By the time he finds his way into the common room Uulark is no doubt into at least his third cup of coffee. That doesn't prevent Rogash from trying to catch up by downing the first mug of brew in short order. "Morning priest. How's the food?" </blockquote>