Kol isn't far behind the other Viking--other, because somewhere underneath all his modern adjustments, he still utterly sees himself as he was, back when--when he steps out. He can only imagine most of the discussions going over Thorfinn's head. He only barely grasps the new language he's suddenly so immersed in now.

He doesn't join him immediately where he's sat, just sort of wanders out of the Inn and shoves his hands in his pockets, squinting into the middle distance. All of this has him on edge in ways that are oddly, equally new and familiar at the same time. He knows the games these places play, but this place is new, and the games are only just starting and there is no prior precedent to be eased into, no locals to answer the basic questions. They, the ones here of the first rounds, will be the welcoming committee with the answers later on for future arrivals, assuming any of their lot were here long enough.

After a bit, he does wander to where the other man is standing, slipping easily into his own native tongues when he speaks to him, "How much of that did you catch at all?" Because he figures he can at least fill in blanks for him if he needs to.