Kjorr's eyes slowly opened, his vision was blurry, and he could feel the familiar feeling of hard wood against his face. Sitting up, he immediately regretted this decision, his head feeling as if a herd of mammoths had run over his head while he was asleep. "By the Nine! A curse upon whoever invented this foul drink!" He said, clutching his head in his hands. "You keep saying that, but every night you come back, just to start the process all over again." He heard Erik say from his spot across the inn. His nightly routine had become something of a norm around the inn. "Aren't you supposed to be meeting up with your friends to go off on you 'big adventure'?" He said, his voice dripping in sarcasm. Kjorr quickly stood up, grabbing his greatsword from it's spot beside the table and headed for the door. "Oblivion take you!" He shouted as he shoved the door open, stepping out into the cool morning air. He took a deep breath, the cool air doing wonders for his headache. He looked around to see if his friends had gathered yet.