As Bardus runs away screaming, the gnome pauses for a moment, sighs, and hurries after the fleeing man. Clearly this man is a gift from the Goddess and truly needs my help he thinks to himself....

::Grabs a bottle of Milandisian Rum, and chugs::

The gnome finally catches up with Bardus and sees him on a street corner drinking a bottle of what appears to be Milandisian...rum. This man is truly a lost soul he thinks if he's consuming that foul brew. Everyone knows the best rum comes from Altheria, and that Milandisians only make good beer. With that in mind he walks up to Bardus, taps him on the shoulder again and offers up his hip flask. "Here good sir," he says cheerfully, "if you must drown your sorrows do it properly. This is 20 year old Altherian rum, guaranteed to ease your pain."

:: Draws sword and parries the poison being offered::

Used to such behavior from those he tries to help, the gnome ducks the blade and withdraws the flask. "Too bad for you sir, but more for me." He backs away and stashes the flask inside his robes. Making sure he stays beyond the reach of Bardus' unsteady blade, the gnome doggedly continues, "Good sir you seem to be distressed, what ails you? I can summon a Beltinian healer if need be," then with a knowing smile, "or is it the pleasant ministrations of a Larissan that you desire? The healing of the body and spirit can take many forms. You sir are clearly in need." He pauses, his twisted brow furrowing as the thought forms, "Perhaps if we knew the nature of your malady...?"