Einkil had been busily unloading the crates from the wagons as the dwarf spoke. Being a friendly sort, as well as a fellow dwarf, he was more than happy to lend the older gentleman a hand. His had been the first name signed on the list, before the sum of payment had even been mentioned. Being less than sober, the idea of getting to test a bunch of magical wands-something he'd never done before-seemed like a good time in general. 'What harm,' he reasoned, 'when the man asking is a fellow dwarf? Surely he could be trusted to not put others at risk, especially with money involved.'

So it was that Einkil would use his large battle axe to pry open the lid while the dwarven wizard spoke, reaching in to snatch up a dozen or so of the wands for himself. With one wand in his left hand, and the others carried under his right arm like a bundle of twigs, he began to wave the short rod about above his head. When nothing obvious occurred, he turned to the wizard, pointing the wand at him.

"Say, cousin," he began, speaking in only slightly slurred dwarven. "How does one go about using these kinds of fancy magic tools? Thinking about it, actually, what exactly are we meant to use them on?" While Einkil was not entirely estranged to magic-the world was full of it, after all-his teachings on the matter essentially amounted to his parents warning him to steer clear of it; A fact that often crossed his mins when faced with similar predicaments, but which he was currently too intoxicated to recall.