Eyes turn to the Den off a side hall of the the Grand Lodge. A tall scarred half orc with a large cold iron axe strapped to his backpack enters the room. The eagle of Andoran is tattooed to his arm. His backpack full of gear he looks weary after a long journey. He calls for ale to a servant. "hmmm" he mutters to himself.."where are my comrades Bruni and Ra Heru I have not seen them in sometime..I hear this archer Doyle of the freedom loving nation of Andoran has joined them"