Snippet #2435037

Not heeding the newcomers and feeling a pit in his stomach arising, Thror began to grow impatient as to his meal planning. Er- Rooming.
"I don't s'pose you'd be able to offer up rooms nearest the dining areas, eh? I might be a wee bit obliged to take ye up on that offer. Bwahaha! But then, ye might be thinkin' 'bout why let me near the foods, eh? I won't be visitin' often. Well, once or thrice a day, maybe more. Bah, it be of no consequence. Set me up, friend!" With that, he gave Tarik a heavy pat on the back; not that he would have been able to do so any other way.
He was already rubbing his sausage-like fingers together in anticipation.
He looked once more at the newcomers while he waited for Tarik, and spied the golden rings all about one young man's hands. Thror grimaced. What was someone obviously so wealthy doing here? They couldn't possibly have been sent here for one of his all-but-forgotten sins, could they? He wrote a mental note to be careful around this one, hoping that he would be roomed far from him.