A drafty establisment

"You smell Terrible Dwarf," the tavern owner spoke down to Gruk from behind the bar. "I should throw you out of here for offending my patrons." Gruk rolled his eyes, he had no other choice, the man stood towering over him.

Gruk was very aware that he smelled horrendus.
He had awoke, lying in a puddle face down, in the back alley behind this very tavern. In a course voice, which sounded like he was clearing his throat of phlegm, he tried to explain his predicament.

"I'm looking for the spinner, I was told she might have stepped into your establishment." Gruk pulled part of his soiled tunic up to show his torn garment to the barkeep.

"HARR, HARRR!" The barkeep roared in laughter. The others seated in close proximity turned their heads to inquire what the tavern owner was laughing at.
Unbeknownst to Gruk, when he lifted his damaged tunic, he had exposed himself to the owner, as well as his back side to all those nearby inside the establishment.
Several patrons shielded their eyes.
Others laughed, spitting out their mead.
One maiden, curiously stretched her head to get a peek and was obviously pleased with the sight, raised an eyebrow.

"Here you go Gruk," the owner put down a pewter mug of mead in front of him. "I believe that is her," He motioned toward the far corner of the room. The tavern owner continued to laugh and turned away to assist other paying customers at his bar.

People tried to shift out of Gruks way as he passed to avoid the smelly little man. Showing absolutely no interest in him, now that the spectacle was over.
Gruk didn't seem to notice, he gripped onto his mug of mead and made his way towards the corner of the tavern.