a skinny, awkward looking man, wearing boots that come up past his knees.
"Hey hey hey! Welcome to the finest sewers in Britannia."
"You look like you need a nickname, so I'll call you 'ducks.'"
"My name's Daros, old duck." He shakes your hand.
"Well, ducky, I keep the sewers running the way they should."
"When work is slow, sometimes I play a joke or two on my friends to keep things lively." He winks at you.
"Even though we don't know each other that well, I'd like to think of you as my friend already."
"Oh you know, ducks, the usual kinds." He nudges you in the ribs.
"Britain is the biggest city in the world, and all those people use a lot of water."
"All the runoff drains down here. It's not a bad place to work, really, except for the @rats."
"They're pretty big, ducky, but not to worry."
"They usually won't eat you until after they've killed you first."
"Of course, if you have a set of panpipes, I hear you can just pipe them away..."
"I don't have a set myself. I usually just run away."
"It's real good exercise!"
"I wouldn't go swimming around here, ducks."
"Go back up and have a look! I'm sure it's still there."
He grins, obviously delighted with his own sense of humor.
"See you around, old duck."
He gives you a hearty slap on the back as you leave, which almost knocks one of the straps on your pack loose.
"That's not something I talk about much, down here..."