Ponderously, the young man at the table by the fire pushes himself to his feet. He looks at Skegg, and the beer, and after a moment he gives him a nod.

He has only been here a few hours and is paid up for two nights. He had been looking forward to some rest after days on the road, and the chill of the Templine crossing, but… opportunity knocks.

“Treasure and Danger. Treasure I want, Danger I don’t, but I must weigh one against the other. I have magic. I will help you. You will help me.”

His accent is noticeably foreign, his sentences stilted. His final sentences don’t sound like questions, but, it doesn’t seem like thats a product of them being in a second language.