[Vrenille breathes a dry laugh. He knows how it sounds. He probably wouldn't believe him either. He doesn't say "I give you my word," or something like it though, because he knows they don't have the foundation for his word to be worth piss. Besides, he's pretty sure this guy's savvy enough to know, and not appreciate, someone patronising him. Instead he just carries on.]

God of mischief. [He specifies because it's true.] Ancient one, as I understand it--called Loki. Seems people don't worship him anymore, which, lemme tell ya, he takes long-winded personal affront to. Regularly. To whoever'll listen.

Honestly, all this ain't even the most outlandish shirt I could tell you 'bout life in this place. But I don't even know your name.

We up to that yet, or would you prefer to stick with "stranger"?