"Actually, I was wondering the same thing." Dyre says back to Anya. His head nodding a little before he looks to the young man.
"What is it? Black lung? Gallow's cough? Moss fever?" He arches his eyebrow and adds,
"Well, at least it's not scurvy... I think."
He ponders this sickness for a moment, scratching his chin when the new comer arrives. He turns to address the new person, holding up a hand in greeting,
"Hey! Not late at all. Grab your three coins, we get seven more when we're done. There's also a scro...."
Dyre gives a long pause and then turns back to the man, as well as the table,
"Hold up a second. What's the scroll say?" He asks, not reaching for it himself.
[sblock=Mini-Sheet]
Dyre Blackreef
AC: 15 (Touch: 13, Flat: 12)
HP: 9/9
Perception: +4, Sense Motive: +0
CMD: +2, CMD: +4, Fort: +3, Ref: +5, Will +0 (+2 vs Fear)
Light Crossbow: +3 [1d8] 19-20 [80 feet]
Cutlass: +2 [1d6+2] 19-20
Punching Dagger: +2 [1d4+2] x3
Alchemy Bombs: +3 [1d6+2] x2 [20 feet]
Effects: Courageous
Combat Feats: Point-Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Throw Anything
Condition: None
In Hand: Light Crossbow
Consumables: 1 Waterskin, 5 Trail Rations
[/sblock]