Relief was the only that could be felt in Thobos as he entered the great town of Ondolond. Since many traders that hired the large man eventually made it to this epicenter of commerce, Thobos had become quite use to this city. Sometimes it seemed like a home to him, simply because he always ended up here, and he always ended up finding work here also. This city, so filled with different races that such a large brutish man wasn’t so looked down on. All of this, and the fact the city was surrounded by mountains created a great feeling of attachment to the urban area.

After leaving the caravan he had entered the city with, Thobos quickly entered the crowds of people with a pocket filled with gold. Quickly he figured out were he stood in the city and began making his way to a sword smith, finding his blade a bit dull for his comfort. Forcing himself through the crowds of people, sometimes simply pushing people away with his large arms, he worked his way to a man’s shop he had grown to like. At reaching the heavy iron front door of the artisan he entered closing the door behind him.

The shop was small, and the temperature made sweet pour from Thobos’ brow. On the far right sat a forge, and anvil, and an old man standing at a grinding with a short sword. Once the old man noticed the broad figure at the door he smiled and said.

“How did you fair this time old friend?”

“I still live.”

Responded Thobos, as he began unsheathing his scimitar. Laying the immense blade on a tall table beside the old man Thobos began to speak again.

“Its edge needs to be sharpened; I will be back later in the day to pick it up. Be safe friend.”

Thobos quickly turned after glancing at his weapon once again. After closing the bulky door with a bit of a boom, he considered how to kill a little time.

One of, Jainas recent, travels have brought her in Ondolond. When, she entered the merchant town, the first thing she noticed was not the crowd, but the smell. How could so visited, place smell like a pigsty? Though it did not bothered her much, she preferred if it was not there. The second, thing after the stench was, the 'mindless' crowd, though they were merchants and traders, their thoughts sounded nothing like it. Most changed as, she passed near some one, with disgusting thoughts, but she found it nice that, she was pleasant for the eye.

Then, by asking few commoners, she entered some blacksmith to search for some armor, or at least some kind of protection. But it was not long when, some one else entered the shop. And the shopkeeper spoke to the customer, as if they were close friends, but maybe they were. Anyhow, the man who entered, left his weapons and said that, he will return later to take it.

When the door closed, again, Jaina asked the shopkeeper Do you have some more discreet armor? Though i want protection i do not wish it to be seen. But the answer was negative. Then she wondered how could 'the greatest smith' in the town, not have one such peace of armor. But maybe he had one, left on some of the shelf's? Jaina, left that as it may be and exited the shop.

When she was out, the horrible stench returned, but this time she felt that, her brain is frying in hellfire. Maybe it was because of the stench, or due to recent issues that she resolved, Jaina had could not sense the man infront of her and crashed into him. I'm sorry, my good man. I could not sense you in my path, so i humbly apologies. Then she blinked into some random directions, with the blind sight, because she tried to look straight at him. But since he had not made a sound, she could not be guided by the sound, and look at him

(ooc:sorry it took soooo long )

Thobos swayed forward as the girl ran into him, causing a few people passing by to be pushed also. The impact had caught him guard, and nearly brought him to the ground. After regaining his balance the broad man turn to face the human who had ran into to him. His hand reached towards his hairy cheek and scratched lightly the irritating beard.

“Aye, its fine, ave people run bumpin’ into me all day.”

The barbarian spoke with a deep accent, and his voice was deep and rough. Without his sword the man looked nearly naked, though all he wore was a pair of Elven boots and a black cloak. The hair hanging down past his shoulders was ragged, with random locks of it braided. The aroma coming off of him, along with his general appearance was completely savage.

Though he had stopped to talk to the woman for a moment, people still pushed passed them with little regard that they were there. The Streets felt more like streams of people and groups. Sometimes it got so thick that you felt as if you would be injured by the pressure of those pushing against you.

Kenith slipped through the crowd. He seemed to have a tallent of not actually getting shoved to the ground. He figured he could do it because he avoided eye contact. It was like an elephant moving through a bunch of zebra. They move out of the elephants way, form about it. "Or perhaps that wasn't a good comparison," thought Kenith.

He continued on, not making eye contact with anyone. He kept pushing forward. The people would either move around him or he would shove through. He didn't need to change course, they always moved. Except one person.

He smacked straight into a massive man, compared to him Kenith almost seemed dwarf like. "Ow..." He took a step back, shaking slightly. He flicked his gaze to a few people who suddenly stopped, watching with interest. Perhaps they thought a fight would start. For all Kenith knew, it might. This made him uneasy, nervous. He only had his dagger and phantom blade to protect him. No corpses in sight. Yet, he could make some corpses if he had to. Kenith would still prefer to avoid that though, bad reputations don't help getting around, "Sorry sir."