In reply to Reanna Draegan (msg # 34):

"If I see him, I will.


Occ we may have lost him.

"Yo!  I'm over here.  I'm more of a blade man, but I'll take what I can get.  Just give me whatever."

In reply to Masugatan (msg # 36):

"They headed back over to the other spot while you were in the latrine."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:45, Wed 08 Mar 2017.

"Somebody get me a drink."

In reply to Masugatan (msg # 38):

The barkeep plops a tankard of his thin acrid ale.
"Young lady went off to see the ogre for gear. You wanna see what he's got, or you wanna see if she brought you something. She couldn't  have gone far."

In reply to JeanPaul (msg # 39):

"Are you going to want another brew, or are you heading after the young lady or going vsck to the Ogre?"

In reply to JeanPaul (msg # 40):

The bartender sighs and polishes a glass.

In reply to JeanPaul (msg # 41):

A motley crew including a pair of shadow elves, an ogre and a couple of humans step into the bar.

This message was deleted by the player at 22:42, Tue 01 Aug 2017.

In reply to Narrator (msg # 42):

Gareth looks around, waiting for Mischa to find his man.

Sorsha will find a table in a corner or a large booth or something.  She then sits down and lets the rest follow her.

She looks to see who else might be in the bar and what the customers are like.

In reply to Sorsha (msg # 45):

The bar tender is a brutish sort, and there is a rough aspect to the place. There is a prominent set of dartboards, and a few midday drinkers, at least two of which are oddsmen, discussing recent rakings in the dart throwing league.

The ale is poor, but he has some decent fortified wine. The evereyday today consists of sardines, and pease porridge with salt pork.

In reply to JeanPaul (msg # 46):

Mischa enters with a bewhiskered man in robes.
 "This is Ronpierre, a practicioner of the alchemical arts."

In reply to Mischa (msg # 47):

"Sir, can I interest you in some admantium? Perhaps in exchange for a spell technique and some cash?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:51, Mon 07 Aug 2017.

In reply to Gareth (msg # 48):

"Spells I know little of, but adamant... let me see."
He takes a set of items from his pocket, items that resemble burrins or awls of different material, and a glass vial as well. When he is satisfied that none of his implements save for one pick that resembles dark bronze, and that your stone can scratch the glass, he accepts.
" This appears to be the genuine article. I will give you ten pieces of silver for the lot."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:06, Sat 12 Aug 2017.

In reply to RonPierre (msg # 49):

"For one little stone, Ok. What about for the rest of it?"

He says, dropping the rest of it on the ground in front of him.

In reply to Gareth (msg # 50):

"That is for the lot. Your
compatriot gave me an estimation of how much you gathered."


Ooc:10 silvers is $200

In reply to RonPierre (msg # 51):

"Only 10? I was hoping for a little more..."

In reply to Gareth (msg # 52):

Ooc make a merchant roll if you are haggling

In reply to Narrator (msg # 53):

OOC Gareth tries his hand at merchant...

In reply to Gareth (msg # 54):

"How about 11 then?"

In reply to RonPierre (msg # 55):

"Well, still less than I was hoping for, but perhaps it will be enough if you can give me some advice on where to get some good fireproof clothes. I understand Alchemists know such things..."

In reply to Gareth (msg # 56):

"There is an alchemist and tailor named Darius who works out of a shop near the Sahudese district of Dockside. I am told he came up with the technique to keep his drapes from catching ablaze during their dragon celebration."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:33, Wed 16 Aug 2017.

Havern stepped into the place, slumped over and was courting a slightly weathered look. He'd been outside through the rain and it showed in the dampness of his hair. Or maybe it was something else, but he slipped a hand through the strap of the large shield on his back and re-shouldered it properly and then made his way into the place, heading straight from the bar.

He made little or no eye contact to anybody, and after catching his gait managed to make a few purposeful strides.

"Gods man, give me a bloody ale before I fall dead on your floor the humour might have sat a little more lightly on the air if he hadn't had a rather grim expression pasted as well as his wet hair across his face.

In reply to Narrator (msg # 57):

"Thank you. Dragon Celebration? I knew of Dragon raids...did they take over some time in the last 400 years?

I will want some directions to that place, as I am not familiar with Northport now. It has, err, been some time since I was last here."

He hands over the admantium and accepts the 11 silver offered.