Sighing heavily again, he visibly calms and wipes his hands on his soot stained apron before lumbering up to the bar. "Aww well. I s'pose this'll do. Lass coul' ye ge' me one o' yer....." Pausing for a moment he winces slightly, then shakes his head. "A mug o' yer ale please lass."

As he takes the proferred mug, he squints his eyes slightly, staring at the barkeep for a long moment, before speaking and dropping a handful of coin on the bar. "Coul' ye do me a fa'or lass? Be new to these parts an' don't be 'avin' much a no clientelle built up yet. Think ya coul' be lettin yer kin know I be about? Be lookin fer good cus'omers an, from me experience, ye point ears be th' mos' reliable. Next t' me own kin o' course. I can buil' mos' anythin' ye want built, forge mos' anythin' ye want forged, an' sew mos' anythin' ye want sewn. I can even do i' all flimsy an' pre'y like ye point ears seem t' be likin' it. Spent a long time wor'in' wit' one o' yer kin an' he be teachin' me a thin' er two about 'ow ye do yer work. Le' 'em know dat if dey be wantin' t' see me work der be a lad runnin' about 'ere wit' i' on. Good lad, bu' 'e always gots 'is nose in a book. Carryin' on a'out becomin' a bladesinger or some such. 'is name be Rithalas..... Rithalas Malarna, or some such."

With that the dwarf stands and stares at the mug of ale for a long moment before closing his eyes and draining it of its contents, making a loud "pppwwwaaa" sound afterwords. Then, after sitting the mug down on the counter, he turns and lumbers back out the door but stops as he reaches it and turns. "Oh. An' ye can be tellin' yer kin that if they be needin me skills they can be sendin' one o' dem birds ye likes t' keep. Just so long as the derned thing don' be crappin in me forge. May not be comin' back if i' be doin dat. Jus' be 'avin 'em sen' i' 'ere" and he tosses a folded up piece of parchment to her (ICQ # - 289837093), and nods his thanks, before heading out the door.