"That's a question I never thought I'd have to answer," the man said with a wry smile. "At least not to a man." he sighs, nodding at Gulgrym, and swings his legs off the bed, pulling a shrift on over his head. On his back, there are stripes criss-crossing everywhere, creating a spider-web of scars.
"Anyone hear about that rum?" He said, wincing and standing. "I suppose... " he laughs, shaking his head. "Its like a nightmare," he mumbles. Looking around at the group, he addresses them. "How do I choose a name for myself? It seems... absurd. 'Call me Avan'! See? I can't" he mutters, standing. "Shar's loss, this is crazy." he curses.