*Thall had been traveling south for a while, exploring the fantasy world he occupied as a Orcish man. When he came across a tavern, he knew he could get some rest, even in parts which deemed Orcs hostile. He was nothing of the sort, though more than capable in terms of committing such violence if necessary.

He enjoyed a pint, keeping to himself for the most part until something changed. You walked in. His curiosity was peaked. He turned to face you from his seat at the bar. His head, towering over others. His eyes, following you.*