Tankard in hand, Catskull filled it near to the brim with a thick, dark, frothy stout from the Northern provinces. He probably liked his coffee black too. It seemed uncharacteristic of him to merrily drink, and without his sword by his side at that. He smiled easily and sat down, chair creaking. 

"Savages are more courteous than civilized men, as they may be impolite without having their skulls split. Tis a saying from a distance land, one mine ancestors had migrated away from many generations ago. Let us do away with formalities and toast to savagery. Skumps! Skumps!"

He cocked his head back and swilled half the pint down.