Feral: "Gaszi," he says. "I'm Gaszi. Born and raised in Sharn, but by the grace of the Flame, blessed to come back to my true home in the Reaches. I'm just stopping through this town myself. Where are you headed? I've been out and about for some time, and I've got news --or at least rumors-- of almost every land under Siberys."
Arlanen: The young man turns back in surprised as he hears your voice. He's already inside the foyer of the Emporium, and another small man at a desk rises as you enter, but he sits back down slowly, his eyes on you, as he sees you're merely speaking with the younger fellow. A small lamp gives dim light to the foyer, and a heavy curtain blocks off the rest of the building. The young man was just about to lift it and pass through.
"I was going to pick your purse of course--what did you think? Look, it's nothing personal. You looked like you might actually have something in it. You saw me, I backed off--what more do you want?"
Ceres: Several others are starting to give a wider berth to the man and the two warforged--you see what look like strange flickering lights hovering near them, casting a strange reddish, then white illumination on their faces. A man mutters darkly at them--to no one in particular, but you can hear him clearly--"T'ain't natural, them 'forged. I'll be burn'd if this'uns here ain't worse than t'others yesterday."
Alastor, Forge and Shard: (Hey, you guys are doing great without me butting in--let me know when you're down conversing and I'll step in; otherwise keep at it.)