Shifting around, Gunni Gorbbisson stretched a meaty arm around his back to scratch at a bite. Problem with coming south would be the fact that he was a bit of a meat feast for the thumb sized Sand flies.
Hygiene wasn't the most important thing to a Slayer, unless he was travelling to Karak Kadrin, of course. Then, he'd make sure that he wiped the grease off his hand. His last quest for death had taken him up over the Worlds Edge Mountains, where he went with a few of his maniacal death seekers to end an attack from a small army of Trolls, sheperded by a Sorceror of Chaos, who remained hidden after the Storm of Chaos. Those Icy hills had required a layering of Troll Grease on some chosen areas to keep the wind out. Wearing a Loincloth, while being true to the Slayer Ethic, was not the most practical vestment.
Scratching at a louse in his groin, he yawned loudly. "Ach, where, by Ungrimms Balls, be mah bloody breakfast? Ye ken, Ah cannae be expected ta bloody fight on an empty stomach? Ah did sign ye contract, which, Ah remember, seemed ta say about three square meals on each and every day. Or d'ye want me ta make that a grudge - Ah ain't been killin for a few hours now. Mah hammar grows thirsty."
Saying that, having another itch in an inappropriate placed, stood up, adding a further 4 inches onto his height, strolled over to a package mule, and picked up a keg attached to it. It said "Bugmans XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX" on the side. One whiff was potent enough to knock out a horse for several hours, although usually, a horse had to be standing next to a dwarf to smell it, the combined smell usually required the aid of a vet to help the horse recover. Punching the mule in the mouth as it started to buck with fear at the smell, it keeled over. Catching it, the dwarf unstoppered the barrel, lifted the mule up, and drank half the barrel in one go. Putting the unconcious animal back down, the dwarf looked over to his fellow Mercenaries, then his hand dropped and he snored. He didn't collapse, he just stood where he was, eyes open, albeit unfocused, and glassy, but sleeping nonetheless.
The dwarf was well and truely known to his companions now.
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