The night before for Belgrax was hazy, his head throbbing madly as he limped out of the tavern using a small man as a cane, ignoring his protests and cries of indignation, his tail whipping the human anytime he decided to buckle his knees. All he could remember was spending a grand and amusing time with nobles of all things. Nobles! He considered the entire lot nothing but pampered children with balls smaller than tiny pebbles, screeching like women at the thought of getting their pretty little hands dirty. And yet, these boys were a fun time, showing him that there was more to noble pansies and they knew how to drink like real men. They still needed a crowd of people around them like children, alas, but he could forgive for that, especially since he was using one of the poor sods as a cane. 

Then Nodrick pointed out the woman - an orge of all things - that they were pursuing last night, precariously waving at them. He barked out a laugh and laughed even harder when a human woman insulted the noble. "Could it be that we were trying to get both the brother and the sister at once?" He asked grinning. "Tiamt's scaly tits but I'm through with this ache!" He remembered tripping over some barrel and nearly spraining his ankle while they chased after some goat that he'd been convinced had stolen his coin pouch. He realized only after he woke up that his drunk self had that he'd left it in a locked chest so that it wouldn't get nicked.

He mentally patted his drunk self on the back, always looking out for him.

"What is that look I see in your eyes, human?" He asked the woman, baring his teeth in a savage grin, "not appreciative of seeing a hungover dragonborn? Alas, your looks don't phase me, so stare as you wish or walk away. I think we'd prefer the latter what with your dampening mood and all."