Tavah was pleased to see the woman’s strength to pull herself back on her feet despite the nearly fatal wound she suffered.  Wary though she may be, she was living up to what he had expected of a tribal such as himself.<br/><br/>Burial detail was something he neither found appealing nor practical.  They had given them worthy deaths as warriors, though not all may have deserved the honor of it.  Their spirits had already departed this plane of existence and among his tribe that was homage enough for rivals.  In his mind their bodies would best serve the local wildlife as sustenance rather than be left to rot in a combined grave.  He had learned some time ago that it was an exercise in futility to dispute the traditions of another culture.  Instead, he returned to the inn with the other half of the group.<br/><br/>Once inside, Tavah had recalled what he had been doing before the recently deceased distracted him.  Making his way to the trapdoor and the barrel partially barricading it, he announced his discovery to whoever would be interested.  “I found a cellar door that looks like somebody made an effort to hide.”  Gripping the barrel firmly, he hefted it up with a grunt and moved it aside before speaking once more.  “Is anybody else intrigued by what is below our feet?”  Crouching over the hatch, Tavah glanced up at the half-orc woman.  “Hey… uh, Blood Raven.  I suppose I never did get your name during that standoff.  Did those you travelled with mention anything that may suggest what would be down here?”<br/><br/>Tavah would wait for her to answer.  If there was no indication of imminent danger he would proceed to open the hatch and see what he could from where he crouched.