After spending a few hours finding places to help him exchange some coinage, as well as painstakingly tallying and recounting the numbers, the mild-mannered settler lumbers in front of the Town Hall looking quite tired.
The druid is carrying a medium-sized crate, upon which rests two heavy pouches that clank in time with his gait.
Today is the day of the awards ceremony for the winners of the recent tournament. Setting down the crate, and opening up his satchel, the genasi pulls out six glass vials filled with bright red fluid that glimmers in the sunlight, and sensitively sloshes with his minor movements due to it's low viscosity.
On his knees in front of the building, but not blocking the entranceway or thoroughfare, the foreigner splits the potions into two groups. The first group has two bottles, and the latter has four. The barbarian then takes the pouch off the crate he was carrying places the lighter one in the first pile, and the heavier one in the other.
He also shifts the crate to sit behind the larger pile of loot, in a sort of presentative fashion, which means he likely thought about this beforehand, since he has no eye for that kind of stuff, really.
quote:
OOC - Removing from inventory:
167 Golds, 11 Silvers and 8 Coppers
He then stands back up without so much as wiping his trouser legs, and crosses his arms awaiting the arrival of the honored guests, and possibly some invested spectators.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:20, Sun 25 Apr 2021.