Baltazar gave a laugh that had a distinct bark to it, each little part of it being unusually sharp. "The last time I was in The Underdark, I had nearly been slain by a mind flayer, but the the squid-faced freak was not-so-nearly slain." His face looked to be wicked once again, suggesting that the mind flayer had not been very lucky that day at all.<br/><br/>"In fact," he continued, "That was my most recently finished adventure. I've been on the road ever since then, about two weeks since I'd left the place. Judging by the fact that neither you've attacked me nor you've been attacked yourself since I've seen you, I don't suppose you plan on going back. Look at that, a drow smart enough to ditch that hellhole." Yet another one of those drinks, and he screwed the lid back on the bottle. He gave a smack of his lips and called the bartender over, saying, "I suppose that's enough for me right now. Wits are something it doesn't look like many of the patrons have anymore." The bartender nodded and took the bottle of liqueur, the bowl of limes, and swept the squished ones into a bucket behind the bar.<br/><br/>Baltazar said to the drow, "Since we have until dawn to wait for our little escapade, I don't suppose you'd like to kill time with that particular story, hm?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>