And thusly was the story told...
It seems your erstwhile companion, Chopper Dave, really went on a bender last night. He'll most likely be down for the hair of the dog before long.
The filthy beggar continues to clutch his prizes and stare at MOS until the wench returns with a frothy mug of boozelike swill. His regard is beginning to become very irritating when finally he speaks, releasing the broken sword and grabbing his mug. (Outside, a monk falls slowly past the window, waving as he drifts downward.)
"I heard tell of some heroes hereabouts, killin' some zombies and what-have-you. They says a man with lots of knives acts like a leader mosttimes. You got lots of knives. You the leader, knifey?" He takes a big swig and rushes on just as you are about to speak. "Cus if'n you are, I got a job fer ya. You wants a job, hero-boy? I bet you do."
At this point he rips a momentous belch that would do a drunken master proud and waits for your response, still staring. (MOS, you're pretty sure this smelly, disagreeable fellow is a rather large gnome. In his gnome home, he might even be considered mighty.)
Around you, tavern business goes on as usual, except for the fact that MOS is the only to come within smelling distance of the filthy gnome.
FP, you are quite entertained by your newfound leaping and falling abilities for awhile, but around the time MOS reponds, you've grown bored (and a bit thirsty) and come back inside the tavern. Pleasius, there's no interesting game hereabouts. You've hunted your fill, but perhaps this filthy man knows of something more interesting than opossum. Dave, if you manage to awaken anytime soon, you witness the scene described above as you come down the stairs from your rooms above.
