Drinking dragon spit he has come accustomed to, he listens to whispers in the tavern of adventure to the depths of orc country. A wry grin and a gleam comes to his eye at what tales could be told. he drinks the last of his rum and milk sets the wooden mug down and spins to the door in search of conformation of this tale.


\\ I would like to offer flyn up to the gods of adventure he is a fair lock pick and sneak


Do what is right even if you do it alone.