Einkil had been right next to the once-old wizard as he spoke, and had done his best to listen carefully to ensure he knew what needed said to invoke the wands. Having held one in hand, felt the power in it, he was fairly certain he knew what it did, and how to make use of it. Saying he was eager to give it a go was something of an understatement, and with more than a dozen already in hand; He felt he had ammunition aplenty.

([b]Perception check to hear what the wizard said to activate the wand: [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/21106]19[/url][/b])

When the wizard had reversed in age, though, that gave Einkil pause. As short of words at the moment as the crowd, he could only nod in reply when asked about his brews, something he would normally go on about at great length. While he tried to regain his composure, though, an orc approached the small group-himself, the wizard, and oddly enough a kobold-with his weapon drawn. A firm grip on the wand, Einkil had full intent to unleash its power on the perceived threat if things turned hostile.

([b]Ready Action: Fire the wand at Krusk if he makes a hostile action against a dwarf.[/b])

Speaking low to the wizard, he addresses him in dwarven. "Do not worry much about the green skin. If he proves a problem, the swamp is filled with places to dump vermin. As it stands, kinsman, I believe you should tend to yourself. Your display seems to have cost you a bit of manhood. You look as young as a pup."

Einkil was about to speak to the orc, but Bartholomew got in the way. The tavern keeper was well known to Einkil, even when he wasn't sober, and trusted as a regular client. He seemed intent on peace, which suited Einkil's preference just fine, but with a kinsman, missing his golden years no less, and himself under the press of an orc given a seemingly self-appointed badge, he was not inclined to lower his guard. He would speak, though, this time in common.

"Aye, orc. Ye'd do bast teh listen teh Bartholomew. Put awey yer stick an stop posturin'. Ken ye nah see when ah man is no a man no more? Begger issues at han' then suckin'the shereff's cock." As always, his accent was thick and his drunkenness did no favors to clearing it. If he recognized the local blacksmith, he showed no signs of it. At this point, his emotions were fairly easy to read; A desire to protect his kinsman, and a lack of respect for law enforcement.