A drunken undir outside a curio shop

Later that afternoon…..

“…a yo, ho, ho, and a -hick- nother bottle of rum…”

Staggering into the inn smallish human nearly five feet in height, and none of it sober crashing in though the door. “…Yo…I hear some darkkin who’s been -hick- sleeping her. -Belch- ‘been ask’n questions ’bout me. Well, if you see him, I’ll talk for the price of a keg of ‘dis rotgut they serve down here in da pearl. It’s foul, but effective. One of the best stupor to weight ratios in the land.”

The storied ‘less-than-gentle’ man walks over to the gnome an asks…

“‘twat you staring at gnome? Yea, I got this brand on my face as a “gift” from Osric’s Cheaters. It stands for Piracy. Something about being a cabin boy on the wrong side of history. Damn, marines think everyone that dip their flag on the high seas is a pirate.

“Nah I’ve seen that look on your face before. Your too afraid of that holy ich of your mother church to so much as drink. Ya, I’ve seen you tea-totlers before. Afraid of a poor bottle…. Bah your as bad as the snakes!

Meanwhile on the other side of the inn Malekith watches the conversation between the drunken pirate and the gnome with amused interest. “Not much to work with there,” he thinks to himself, “but we must work with the tools the Gods place in front of us.”

After flagging down a serving wench to order a round of drinks, the gnome turns to the pirate, a shocked and bewildered look on his twisted face. “How can you say that! Why I would be frozen dead on the streets of Enpebyn as a wee babe had the Ansharans not taken me in.” He glares at the pirate. “Are you sure that’s not the liquor talking? Or something a mite stronger? I went on a three day bender in Savona with some Larissans once. Still can’t remember what happened…good times though…” The gnome stops in mid-sentence his eyes narrowing as he looks up at the pirate and lowers his voice. “Be careful ’round here. The Ansharans have friends in the Pearl, that they do. What do you mean calling them the enemy?”

The gnome stares at the pirate in wide-eyed disbelief, clearly at a loss for words. “Um…” he says finally in a quiet voice, “That doesn’t sound like any Ansharans I know,” the looks around furtively before continuing “You sure that wasn’t some Ymandragoran trick? Them’s guys have some powerful magic it’s said. Not wise to cross them. Where was this again?”

…hick… “Did I say val Ishi? Naw I ment val Inares. Yea that is the ticket. But hey, a val is a val, might all be snakes at the core.

…hick… “well might as well hit the well, hehe, afterall I fear the dark moon is fix’n to blow up any day now. You know it wasn’t always there. Well that is what I heard an elorri say. Tall one too.

Across the inn Malekith watches the drunken pirate stagger toward the door thinking that as tools go he is definitely not the sharpest one in the shed. He jots down a few notes in his journal then flags down a serving wench for another flagon of ale.

The gnome thinks for a moment before replying, “Thank you but no I think I’ll stick with my Tralian whisky. I think that may be your problem good sir it that your stupor to weight ratio is set too high. Making you imagine things…you sure there isn’t some mind altering substance in that booze of yours? Wormwood you say? Maybe you should lay off that stuff for a while.” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’d be careful ’bout what you been saying. There’s people out there who want to talk to you about that and they’re none too friendly. Matter of fact I’m not sure I want to be seen with you. Think I’ll be taking my leave.” With that the gnome gets up and hurries out of the tavern.

While the drunken pirate stares in confusion at the sudden departure of his drinking companion, Malekith takes advantage of his distraction to slip out the back of the tavern.