You say, 'Hail, Malcohm Thimbleton'
Malcohm Thimbleton reeks of elven wine and dwarven ale as you approach him. He's having a hard time putting a sentence together. "Salut... sassaf...swee...erm...hello, _____! *hic* I'm sure you're here to...to...What was I saying? *hic* oh yes! You're here to turn your silly robe into a proper tunic! And I'm just the gnome to do it! Now where'd I put my needle and thread. *hic* Give me that silly robe and I'll make a proper piece of clothing out of it.