As the sons of Durin finished their song there was laughing and ale drinking all around, eating, tale sharing, so on and so forth. Orisson reached for his own loaf of bread in his bag - or anything else useful for such an event of sharing and laughter - found his gold missing. [i]This[/i] was not a welcome sight, and his bearded smile turned upside down, into a frown that just wanted to shout "Baruk Khazâd, Khazâd ai-mênu!" and leave half of the caravan without bowels in them or a head on them. 

He stood up with a light growl, his face, expression and most of the sound hidden by the fact he was still turned away from his newfound friends. He looked about the group of Dwarves, and noted that most of them were not dexterous or attentive enough to snatch his gold bar from his backpack like that. His suspicions went into three directions; the elves, the hobbits, or the chump who hated those who were not humans. He excused himself (after letting one of the longer bearded Dwarves finished his joke) and banging his poleaxe on his massive round shield he went around looking for the Elves on the caravan, hoping to show them how being short is only an advantage, for the groins of others are level with Oid's teeth. 

[@LadyRunic]