Maybe they don't serve rum or tequila in that hellhole of Bretonia, but I'm sure that prison is like a motel compared to the life in the Cretes wastelands. Also you seem to have some disturbing habbits, but if you'll manage to pull yourself together everything should be fine.
Welcome aboard, slave. Prapere to be a meat shield for all the thrown bottles in the bar fights. We will discuss the details in private.
