"Need to sleep off...?!"
Turgon replied with a grin.
"Me is not drunk untill me nose hit the floor I tell' ye!"
But remembering the knife he added.
"Yet I can.. hick!... assure ye me's no troublemaker... that is... unless trouble asks for it!"
He smiled wildly and giggled, meeting Pio's eye.
"Gimme a few more o'that fine ale of yer's, and I won't be no trouble at all. And yeh, some food would hit e'spot! Hick! Ehmm... and me is thinking a room, at the first floor if... hick... possible, would be fine."
Turgon smiled at Pio, though soon he was lost in his newly cagged mug of cold, scummy beer.
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"You cannot pass. I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor!"
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