Ngikhnit shrugs. Boots are boots. Cloaks are cloaks. Perfectly useful, but what's the big deal? Unless... the sudden change in size. Must be magic. And if these items are magic, what other magical properties do they have? "I'll have to find someone who can figure out what's so special about these." It evidently (pace DM's note below) doesn't occur to him to ask Jon directly.
The barbarian carefully prints, in simple block form, NGIKHNIT. He is literate, but evidently not especially experienced with written communication.
"We heard a story of a falling star, chased it around the harbour, and in that enchanting fishmarket we found these foul smelling creatures floating around, they kept disappearing and reappearing. They were hard to find, and harder to kill. Every time someone hit one with a sword it would split in two, and we'd only have more critters to chase. But this flail was too much for them." His proud role, as bearer of the weapon most lethal to the enemy, clearly erased his earlier shame (which he does not repeat) at the water's edge.
Ngikhnit will stay around Orussus for some time, and you might well see him back at the Red Dragon Inn.
[/sblock]
