| Mad Thadrig | |||
|---|---|---|---|
| Home City | Sentinel | ||
| Location | Frozen Palms Tavern | ||
| Race | Nord | Gender | Male |
| Level | 32 | Health | 8282 |
Mad Thadrig is a Nord dweller of Sentinel and the bartender in the Frozen Palms Tavern.
When approached, he exclaims, "Shor's bones! Look what the jackals dragged in! Ha! I'm just yanking your helmet-horns." Then he asks, "What'll you have?" If you choose to continue your dialogue, he will answer your questions.
Dialogue
A Nord in the desert?: "Ha! Who'd have thought, eh? I left Winterhold as a pup. All I remember was that cold. And I'm not talking about those balmy Skyrim winters. I'm talking about Hildrif, that cold-hearted daughter of the jarl. Brrr!"
- Looks like you escaped alive.: "Because I got out of there as soon as I could! I traveled the world a bit. Took in the sights, y'know. But I knew I was home when we came ashore here in Sentinel."
- Most foreigners I've spoken to complain about the heat.: "To Sovngarde with that! Ship them off to the Pale! Let them pal around with the horkers for a while, then see what they say about the Alik'r. This is paradise! Stiff salt breeze off the bay, sunshine the whole year round. Paradise, I say!"
What do you think of the Redguards?: "Stout folk. Stiff-backed, of course, but good-hearted. They weren't thrilled about me buying this place at first, but they got over it when they tasted my mead. They don't laugh as much or as loud as Nord—but they don't fight as much, either."
Have you heard much about the undead?: "If you're talking about the docks, not much. I've heard they walk funny. Sort of bow-legged, like an Elf just out of the saddle. Ha! We shouldn't talk too loud, though. The locals don't take kindly to folk speaking ill of their dead grandpas."
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