"Oi! Did ye hear?" one Dwarf bellowed, holding a piece of parchment in his large and hairy fist. "Some foolish manling is giving away his entire fortune!" 

This was the first Dwarf tavern since Sketti had made his exit from the Sea port of Barak Varr. The voyage was long and boring, but it gave him some time to scribble some new schematics for a Hellfire Organ gun he was cooking up for a contract in Everpeak. Not like he had a crew anymore to help though, Grimnir curse it all. He was more used to boats and sea voyages than most Dwarfs, and even he had some trouble sleeping on the wooden manling contraption. He only had to walk around the ship twice to see a dozen ways in which it could capsize from shoddy steering. 

They made it to the small port town just south of Miragliano, and only one run in with pirates to speak of. It was a short battle, and a few of the deckhands had been butchered, but Sketti quickly turned the tide with his bombs, sinking the pirate vessel into a cold oblivion. The ship burned nicely too. After the voyage, the hard ground was welcoming to his stout feet, and he made a B-line for the Tavern and a nice place to fall over and sleep. He drank only a modest 10 pints of Ale before he took a quick snore. A few other Dwarfs had traveled with him, but when one of them had retrieved the letter from some unknown courier, races of all kinds flocked to this bizarre news. Sketti was woken up by the sound of them bickering about it. 

"Eh? What?" he said, falling off the couch like a rock and getting to his feet. He scratched his head with the metal appendage. It could always hit the spot. He barreled through some of the crowd and approached the Dwarf holding the paper. 
"What's this all about?" 

A few men and Dwarves gave him a wide berth, and whether it was for being a Slayer or having such an odd and dangerous looking metal arm, he couldn't tell.
"Some Guilmuero manling has called for Mercenaries and crazed fools to come and visit him at his estate. He says he'll feed and pay just for showing up!" 

Guilmuero...Sketti had heard of that name before. Some madman that had lost his fortune and family from some insane expedition. Sketti grinned, showing his rotting teeth and two shiny golden ones. He enjoyed madmen. They understood his kind of thinking. The Slayer puffed out his chest and slammed a meaty fist against it. "Where's this castle of his at?" 

Within minutes (he needed another drink), Sketti was out the door and heading straight for this Guilmuero's fortress. He'd walk day and night until he got there, and crash through anything that got in his way.