The kobold bows his head, at the gift, stiffening ever so slightly at the mention of the name, though he quickly adds, "I do not wish to correct you, sir, but I fear you are mistaken. My master is known as Bekilk-Skriiod. A common mistranslation, as the names are somewhat similar," the kobold lies, directly to him; Draiss can notice that his eye twinkles with a fair bit more intelligence and experience than any short-lived kobold should, reasonably, have, although it is only for a moment, before he ducks his head again, taking a little of the meal, before continuing. "Ahh, that is quite unfortunate, as he would wish to make an offer, before other interested parties do. Do you have an idea of how long your business here might occupy you? I assure you, he would not require your attention for long."