Diplomatic Impunity

A well-armored emissary strides into the Thane's Hall, followed by a number of lackeys struggling to carry some large barrels.

The Thane speaks, "Ach, lads what do we have here? By mah grandfather's beard, 'tis one of Trimarco's men. Ah'd recognize that sword-an-drumstick banner anywhere! Wha does his leerin' lordship want this time? An expedition? Lookin' fer more land to tuck under his already vast belt, no doubt. Fine, yes, what's wit tha casks, lad? Ale, you say? Whiskey, you say? Well, don't jus stand there like a tadger, bring 'em ovah here! Better not be any o' that watered-down naff some o' your people call beer. Ahhhhh....stout! 'Tis surely the elixir o' the gods. You can go back an tell yer boss, and his barely-dressed barbarian friend--what's up wit that, anyway?--tell yer boss that the dwarves of Keeleygard are behind him, one hundred percent. Until the beer runs out. Ach, he knows our usual terms. An make sure he unnerstans that mah men will be lookin for bosoms as well! Now off wit ye!"



nicoel nickname of the day (well, Friday): chiXXorZ