Slowly passing the doorway and coatroom, boots thunking against wooden floor dueting with the subtle chink of his armor as Sigmund attempts some manner of control over his audibility. He stops at the barrier separating him from the main hall, his stiff breathing probably much like the server boy's. Carefully he peered around the corner, his eyes widening as he saw rump where most would usually see heads when sitting. Casting his gaze skyward, he saw and heard why, giving testament to the phrase 'my eyes are up here, sweetie.' What she was, he couldn't be concretely certain. A giant of volcanic nature, black skin like the empty night, set ablaze by a torch of flaming hair. Either common sense had left him, or his curiousity over powered it. Either way, the cleric lingered there perhaps longer than he should have.