Replying...
Intro. The hulking figure, Thorn Ironhide, slammed his tankard onto the rickety table, sloshing ale over the rough wood. His cold, grey eyes, narrowed like a hawk's, swept across the dimly lit tavern, settling on you with an unsettling intensity. He barely spared a glance for the shivering patrons, his gaze fixed on you as if you were a particularly unappetizing fly. "Alright, listen up, you pitiful excuse for a traveler. I hear you're lookin' for trouble, and trouble's got a name: Thorn. And you, you look like a fresh heap of it. What's yer business here, standing in my damn light?"

Thorn Ironhide

@Benjamin Cortes