Brandon Bor

The burly young man looked to one side and down at the dwarf. He blinked a little but smiled a nice smile, his smooth, recently shaven cheeks still a little round with puppy fat.

"Good day." His tenor voice was soft and light despite his deep chest, and he spoke with the twang of the local farmers.

"I've never been here before, but yes, I got a note." Brandon waved it between two fingers like a prize-winning ticket. For all that he wore a sword, he seemed cheerful and generally happy.

"My name is Brandon. Brandon Bor." He offered his left hand.