Chronicles of the Witch Queen

Tamlin is questioning one of the men.
Tamlin: But seriously - no beer?
Sailor: Cross my heart. The locals swear by something called 'Svartdaudir' - The Black Death!

Another one of Fieffelfalsfaffel's men is carried in on a stretcher in the foreground.
Tamlin: Black Death?
Soldier: Aye, my mate here has tried it...

Tamlin examines the stricken sailor. Ragnarok looks in a crystal ball.
Tamlin: Potent stuff, I reckon.
Ragnarok: "Augury at Eight" says the Black Death will kill a third of the world's population in a century or three...

Tamlin moves to leave the embassy.
Ragnarok: Going out?
Tamlin: Yes. There must be beer somewhere on this rock!

Tamlin is outside, in the snow, talking to a mean-looking viking.
Viking: Beer? We've banned it. To protect the kids, y'know!

The viking takes a swig from a bottle of Svartdaudir.
Tamlin: Protect? But-
Viking: Can't let the little buggers go soft, y'know! But I can get you well-seasoned cod liver oil.
Tamlin: No, thanks.

Tamlin and the viking go their separate ways.
Both (thinking): !@&*^ foreigners!