RillianPA said:
"Now um, gentlemen, " Rillian says to the hobos, "which one of you would be willing to sell me his outfit, for a fair price of course?"
"B-b-but sir," says Williams sheepishly, "we've only g-g-got the one set each."
"Nudity encourages sinful thoughts," adds Smythe, seeming to ignore the fact that the homeless group is, collectively, about as likely to inspire sinful thoughts as a gaping chest wound.
"Noo worries, my goood maan, I think I can rustle up an extra set," says Coom.
"Might not come here," throws in Lars reluctantly. He looks as eager to be rid of the gang as anyone, but pessemistic. "They do other stuff. Harass other people. Knock over shops." He sweeps the street with his eyes again. "I've seen it." He glances at Grogg's retreating back. "Shouldn't someone go with him?"
The bar slowly to the entrance of Grogg. A general shuffling away, a few mutters, someone sputtering something inarticulate but nonethless uncomplimentary, and a few wary glances from, and towards, a small group of half-orc laborers who seem to have staked out a corner of the tavern and seem to be maintaining their position mainly by the force of their mass and shoulder span, both of which are impressive.
None of the maids seem eager to approach Grogg, who sits himself down in a table that quickly gains an empty space around it. With a table or two between them, the lone serving boy, a strong-looking teenager, gives Grogg a surly look. "Whaddya want?" he says. "No trouble, y'hear?"
