Talathel surveyed the scene and decided that now was a great time to drink some rum. He reached for his flask and unscrewed the lid. He was still a bit shaken from being pursued by the wererat in the sewers earlier. Finding out what the box did was of some comfort. The trip had been worth something, at least. However, the talks of strategy bored the elf. He figured that someone else could come up with the course of action, and he could follow it. As long as he collected his gold soon after though.
Did we ever get our advance?
"If we're not going tonight, then perhaps a night on the town is called for. Darvin? Shall we go find some of these wenches you go on and on about?"
The half-elf shot Talathel a puzzled look.
"I'm not in the monastery any more. And besides, if you're going to introduce yourself as a mighty pirate, perhaps we could go act as one!"
Darvin was, unsurprisingly, unamused. Talathel laughed anyways.
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