Thomas
*The stout dwarf laughed at her confirmation of Mead and nodded his head, leaning over the countertop to begin pouring out a golden frothy mead. He then gave a complacent shrug and chortled once more.* **"Well, I never know these days. This tavern is just very lively. If a festival is on, I don't know it myself. I just pour the pints and whack anyone who don't pay."** *It was then that he gestured behind him with a thumb over the shoulder to point out the decently sized Warhammer on the wall behind him. It was in pristine condition with a small chalkboard next to it with tally marks on it - probably to show how many times it has been used on a stingy patron.*

*It was then that the Dwarf slid a half-flagon over to Ves at the bar and began pouring the same for Björn without even asking him. The Goliath didn't mind however, as he wanted it anyway. The barkeep raised a bushy brow and looked at Björn quizzically before asking a question.* **"So, what's with the bird's nest? Not seen one of your lot in years but last I did, they didn't have a head of hair or some scruff, like."** *Björn paused, realising that difference between him and his kind.* "Do you mean Goliaths have been here before? And just what hair did they have?"
**"None, lad. They were as naked as my own crown! Not a hair on the men of the lot who came through a few years back. Goliaths from Gantrick, if I remember it right. A head of hair like that will get you noticed. I much prefer a clean and shiny bell myself."** 

*The Dwarf let out another belly-rumbling laugh as he patted his own head and slid the flagon across the bar to Björn. Giving a nod of thanks, the Barbarian - deep in thought on the Dwarf's words - passed over a handful of coins to pay for the pair's fill.* "I'll keep that in mind... I never met one of my lot before." *The Dwarf gave a sympathetic look and nodded softly.* **"Well, if you are in need of a shave, there is a barbershop across the road, will clean your scrag up nicely for a good d

Eal! Just tell him Daggar sent you. The damn Shifter knows to be nice if he likes his drinks with a discount!** *The barkeep, supposedly named Dagger winked as he passed over the Goliath's change. Björn was in serious debate. Changing his look would keep any who deem him savage off his back, as well as changing his visage from that of his posters back in Dazvaz.*
Vivian
She listened quietly as the Dwarf named Dagger spoke, explaining that he had no idea what was going on. It made her smile a little. She liked this Dwarf, she decided on a whim. He was blunt and filled with laughter and she liked that. There was no trickery behind his words. He seemed like an honest man.

When he began to describe how Goliaths normally looked, Ves' ears perked up. She glanced up at Björn to see his reaction and could recognize the depths of his thoughts. Was he considering visiting the barber? She sipped at her mead as she studied her lover. Sometimes she just enjoyed looking at him. It brought her pleasure to do so. How would he look without hair, she mused to herself. Well, it didn't matter. Hair or no hair, she would care for him all the same.

As Dagger turned away to help another patron, Ves spoke. "What's on your mind, Björn?" She asked. She still had to raise her voice to be heard over the noise of the tavern. Her tail twitched behind her as she gazed up at him with curious eyes. She took another drink of her mead, savoring the flavor. It was good here, perhaps better than in Broughton. Everything seemed better than Broughton. Ves liked the atmosphere in Willowdale. It was cheerful and welcoming and there were far fewer menacing stares. And nobody had accused her of carrying diseases. What more could she ask for? 

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Thomas
"Daggar's words... That's all. He said Goliaths were here, my people... They exist!" *It came to his attention that in none of the books he had read, had he ever heard of Goliaths. Not one fable had them, nor any article in a newspaper showcased their description. Björn was shocked and pleased, a small smile on his mead-soaked lips.* "Also, I can't be the only one who thinks my accent is similar to his. It is nice, aye?" *The brute chuckled softly to himself, liking how Daggar's usage of aye felt on his tongue. It worked remarkably well for him and he came to the conclusion that his accent was one and the same as the Dwarf's. So, raised the question: Where did that accent originate?*

*Björn felt his rough beard, thickened and wired by the salty air for so long, it was itchy and scratched at his skin strangely as if his hair was never meant to be there. Ves would be able to tell that he debated his next move, pondering by the telltale rubbing of his chin; before realising he was leaving a light trail of dandruff on the bar and stopped, sheepishly brushing it off to one side.* "Ves." *The Barbarian turned to her, his weight shifting under the creaky stool as he rested his arm on the ever-so-slightly sticky bar table.* "Would I look good with a shave?"

*This was a strange sensation; asking someone's opinion on how he looked. The Goliath was not used to it, yet he was so enthused by the prospect of his people and their appearances. He imagined men the size of mountains and women with muscles of steel and granite - stone-faced warriors and creatures of Lunam's design that were perhaps more awesome and earth-shatteringly strong than he. He longed for a connection to his people, as mysterious and rare as they may be.*

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Vivian
*Aye?* Ves couldn't help but grin a little. Daggar's accent had sounded a lot like Björn's. They were almost identical. Björn's pitch was deeper, but beyond that they seemed the same. It was certainly an interesting accent. Where did it come from? Did Björn always have it or had he picked it up in the Pits? She doubted it. His voice had been rough from lack of use when she first met him. It was far more likely that he carried the accent with him from childhood.

She smiled at his enthusiasm regarding his people. "Would you like to travel to Gantrick? To meet your people? We can. Nothing is stopping us. Well, except maybe knowing where Gantrick is. Though surely it's on the map somewhere. Now that we know we're in Willowdale, perhaps that'll make it easier to orient ourselves."

His question came as a surprise to her. Her opinion on the subject didn't matter, after all. It was his body. He could do with it whatever he pleased. Still, she tried to imagine him without a beard. The Kobold tilted her head to the side as she considered. "I think you look good no matter what." It was perhaps a lame answer, but a true one. Ves honestly felt attracted to him and shaving wouldn't change that. "Do you want a shave? We could go across the way and see the barber. And if you don't like it, well, it'll always grow back."

She had no idea what it was even like to have hair. She had scales and horns. She knew what it felt like to be kissed by Björn however. Would it feel different if he shaved? It would have to. Maybe it would be less scratchy. Well. She would just have to wait and see what Björn chose to do. Then she could experiment all she liked. The thought of kissing him made her scales redden slightly.

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Thomas
*Björn paused at her words, his eyes widening. He didn't even have time to think.* "Yes." *He said it in a heartbeat, without thought or time to consider the ramifications. Björn would want nothing more than to see someone, anyone of his kind. Maybe he can learn about his people, connect to his ancestral roots and maybe it helps him develop his ability to rage and transmute things.* "If I could find some of my kind... I would consider it a worthy goal. Alas, Daggar said the Goliaths hailed from North... And north is a good distance away. It would take ages to work our way across the land. Besides, nothing of benefit comes to you with following me all the way there."

*He took another sip of his drink, rubbing his hand over his braided hair as a small selection of strands fell out and landed in his hand. It was clear he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Deciding to just journey across the land with no real confirmation of a result weighed heavy on his heart, heavy like the force needed to push the boat out to sea. Heavy... His mind became clouded from overthinking, perhaps it is for the better he changed subjects. It was then Ves brought up this 'Barber'.*

"Yes, I can always grow it back... I do want to shave. Perhaps it will bring me closer to my people if I look like them!" *The Goliath perked up at this conclusion, before whispering to Ves.* "*And it would help Ursa Majora disappear if the Orcs send hunters.*" *The Goliath felt very clever and smiled to himself. They would only be able to identify him by his scars and slave mark; the latter being easy to cover with the right clothing. Björn felt a renewed resolve in this small step toward freedom.*

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Vivian
"Wait, slow down," Ves said, setting her mug of mead down on the counter. "I don't care that there's no benefit for me in Gantrick. I don't think there's any benefit for me anywhere. I'm nomadic, Björn. I left my birthplace behind and have no true home. And what's to say Gantrick isn't my home and I just haven't discovered it yet? No, Björn, I think we should head North. We can travel by land this time. It'll take longer, but it'll be safer than risking Broughton again." 

She smiled with relief as he brightened. Was a shave all he needed to cheer up? It was then he whispered his clever plan into her ear. Ves grinned wide and nodded her head. It was a good idea and surely would help disguise him better. "To the barber then!" She said cheerily, before tossing back the rest of her drink. It seemed very unlike Ves, but the Kobold was in a good mood.

Ves felt good about having a destination. Yes, it was far away, but perhaps they would get there sooner than expected. And if finding his people meant that much to Björn, then Ves was willing to see him get there. She placed her now-empty mug on the counter and slipped off her chair, filled with liquid courage. Taking Björn's hand, she began to lead the way back outside and across the street, not caring what the people of Willowdale might think. 

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Marcellus
*Björn seemed pleased by her response and a small shade of blush flashed briefly across his face as he emptied his flagon with ease. And so it was set in stone. The duo's goal was to reach Gantrick and track down his kind. They had to be around the northern regions somewhere. Who knew what they'd get into while on the way. It would be a grand adventure, the Barbarian knew that much.*

*The first step on this road, was to kill off any trace of the Slave that broke free from Dazvaz. To do that, his hair had to go. A fresh rocky head to slip away into this new adventure. The Goliath worried for a moment how he would look with no hair, but shook the thought aside. Before long, Ves had dragged him by the hand off his stool. He waved to the barkeep as he left, who gave but a knowing nod as he polished his flagon.*

*Why? Why did he allow Ves to drag him across the tavern to the exit? He could have walked himself, and the patrons maybe wouldn't have hollered and jeered as the man mountain was dragged to the door by a determined Kobold, an anthill in comparison. But he liked giving her these illusions of strength, it gave her a good bit of a laugh and for that... He enjoyed the experience as they fled the cosy and warm tavern out into the 

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