The owner had just slapped a dwarf in the face when he turned to the strange old man. "A...what? A swallow? Dis' no season fo' swallows...oh, but ye are talkin' about da ship, da Grey Swallow? Dat bastard Lorenz, da capt'n, was an' ol' mate o' mine when me was still a young pira..."

The man coughs, and spits in his spittoon again.

"Erm, a young sailer. I think da ship's at anchor 'ere in Kinston', though me knows not where."

Upon hearing Falon asking for a drink, he calls a young waiter, who promptly arrives with a pint of ale. Now that the brawl has been postponed, an atmosphere of cheerfulness seems to reign in the inn, as the bard begins to sing an old upbeat [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQJ_ZbIMDpc]ballad.[/url] Groups of half-drunk men and dwarves are raising their voices with the bard's, and all around them are people playing dice, eating, drinking and indulging a little with the tavern's wenches. A moment of rest and joy in the harsh life of the new world.

"Say, Falon, ye happen to know if da Grey Swallow's in dese parts?"