"Lorenzo De Valencio...?" Doubt flickered across Renna's features at the well renowned name and she eyed the pistol pointed at her uneasily.  If this was really the famous swordsman, was she willing to risk gaining him as an enemy?  He was obviously drunk though...  would he even remember what she looked like come morning? 

"Loren De Crap? Never heard of him..." said Abarat, the elf carrying the large chest.  Of course, the pistol wasn't pointed at [i]his[/i] chest.

The dwarf suddenly got out of the prisoner line.  This was getting out of hand on her...  fast.