"And who are you?" Kirk bellowed, disappointed that his fist's appointment with the pudgy little entertainer's face had been interrupted by this latest interloper.

"I am Volothamp Geddarm, but you can call me Volo," said the new arrival, a strange yet jaunty fellow dressed in exotic yet pragmatic finery, capped off by a well-traveled beret. He shrugged, adding, "Everybody does, after all."

Duke joined Kirk at the side of the new traveler, both still blocking any means of escape for the cowering Passepout, who still had his back to the cold city wall. He was thankful for the respite but dreaded the imminent resumption of his interrogation.

Duke scratched his head. "Seems I remember hearing something about you," he said. After a moment, he snapped his fingers and smiled, saying, "Sure, I know you. You're that book fellow, the guy with the guides, citizen of the world, home on the range, and all of that sort of stuff."

"Yes, I am Volo, traveler extraordinaire, and master gazetteer."

"Well, let me shake your hand," said Duke. He enthusiastically pumped Volo's extended hand and then turned to Kirk, saying, "This guy is the author of that book on Waterdeep, the one I used to find us that really good festhall last time we were on leave. You remember, that really expensive place where our old girlfriends worked."

"Yeah, I remember. Best leave I ever had, but you know I still can't figure it out," replied Kirk. "I thought that Katelyn had settled down with some rich merchant or something. She wasn't really the festhall type."

"Oh, you must be referring to the Hanging Lantern," Volo explained, ready to bring up that it had been run by a gang of doppelgangers. Then he thought better of it, simply saying, "Glad I could be of service."

"Darn tootin' you were of service. Best time I ever spent, outside of actual combat, that is," said Duke.