Otha
It was late at night, yet for a dwarf of short Height (yet tall for one of his kind), it had only just begun. A twilight chill had crept into the air, and the streets were quiet as befitted the time.


 Except for one loud, booming voice that was 'singing' 
"HEY O HEY O HEY O HEYYYY, THE WHORES GOT TITS BIGGER THAN MY FAAAAACE. HEY O HEY O HEYYY, I PAID HER WELL TO GET MYSELF A TAAAAASSTE!" His spittle flew with each word and his breath stank of liquor. Those few still left on the streets steered well clear of him, and it was clear even the local guards were becoming quickly Impatient with this public nuisance. 


He wasn't completely clueless though, and quickly shut himself up and continued walking, or stumbling more like. He had a bottle of brandy in hand, but it was little more then decoration for it was the bottles in a back alley that had brought him to this stage. He had gone to a gambling den he frequented when in the capital, where after a particularly profitable session of dice, he decided to spend it all on whisky. Lots of it. 

Now he roamed the streets looking for more entertainment to fill his night. He couldn't bare being alone as he was. He needed to get drunker. Drunk enough so his thoughts were mute. And so he stumbled onward, clearly headed for wherever drinks would flow.
Ann
*Ashby didn't know why he was out in the capital this late, he didn't know if he should even be out as it still wasn't very safe for him to be around alone. He'd run a hand through his hair as he signed. His skin still felt dry and worn but he was making progress. He wasn't so skinny now and least the worms were gone after... More than one long day of dealing with them. It had been painful and horrible but he felt better at least.

Now he was having to try learning how to not be a slave and it wasn't easy. He wasn't ready to go back to the sea even though he should, maybe he was more scared than he thought of returning home. He didn't know why though. Though at hearing some strange song being belowed in the streets he couldn't help but stop and look to see what was going on.

A stumbling dwarf was what he saw after a bit. Clearly they were drunk and he probably should avoid them. Best maybe to just head back before he was noticed? Though he would look up at the street lights as he thought about all that had happened to him in the last few weeks. His life was changed upside down in the matter of a day. But it was better than what he used to be in, which really was good since he'd probably be dead if he had still been in his slave life.*
Otha
Each step was matched with a grumble from the dwarf. He raised his bottle for a swig and as his head tilted up he noticed... A Tri- no. Surely not. The liquor was more potent than he thought. He began laughing at his own idiocy, blaming his partially blind right eye and state of inebriation for this trick of his eyes. 

He figured it was some genasi, and realised he was staring. He adjusted his tricorn to look more presentable and called out "Sorry for the stare matey, eyes playing tricks with the light!" He felt guilty for staring though and so the ever sociable dwarf approached this water genasi and took a final swig of the brandy. 

He threw the bottle to the side, and wiped his hands on his jacket. Despite being a bit stained and stinking of alcohol from his night debauchery, it was still in the latest Lazaroth fashion, and the rings in the man's beard braids and the braids coming out from his head presented a golden glint that suggested this was more than just a short drunk.

He stuck his hand out for a handshake and introduced himself, and as he did so, his jacket would slip back to reveal shackles tattooed on to his tanned skin. "Captain Dagon Breezeblown of the Lady Corsair. Yourself lad... Uh lass? Whatever you call yourself." He smiled as he said this, evidently unaware of any offence he may have caused, or of his crude manners.