[color=007236][center]Lob[/center][/color]
[center][b][color=007236]Location:[/color][/b] The Inn
[b][color=007236]Interacting With:[/color][/b] All present.[/center]

Lob's gentle dreams were becoming disturbed, He was being rocked about like when he was on the boat to rescue Sana. He does not like boats. Then food smells while being shaken was sickening his stomach and someone yelling for him was making him upset, mad even. 

Nothing is as dangerous as what someone does on accident, there is no limiter on movements or actions when there is no humanized risk to take into account. Glassed-over eyes pop open as a massive clawed green hand shoots out to grab the cleric. His broken mouth again opens into what could surely be a fetid roar of morning breath...Or just a yawn as he tried to roll over with his human teddybear to cuddle close with and go back to sleep. Surely the Dawn-god was protecting the cleric, as Lob is not dreaming of dwarven women at the moment but rather seeking the black pit of dreamless slumber.