The wind strengthened, a thick shroud of mist had neared World's End. A slight rumbling sound and then a moment of silence... Gushing wind, big flapping and then the mist slowly started to clear up again. From the mist a tough looking man marched forward.

[i]'That dragon never ceases to amaze me with it's magic.'[/i] Montis thought. Walking towards World's End. 
He had already projected his divine thought to the gods that were already present at the festival; [i][b]"Dear friends, and fellow gods, can someone tell me why in the name of unholy fire I recieved a bunch of coins bearing my mark?!"[/b][/i]

He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of burning pine and so much more only his divine nose could percieve, and quickened his pace, he was excited to see some people again after all these dwarves.