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Message: <blockquote data-quote="rpgramen" data-source="post: 4773862" data-attributes="member: 49052">Typical dwarven behavior. Ill-kempt, blunt, and crass. Frankly, it was more than Crispin was expecting, given the history he'd had with others of the cleric's kind. At least on the bright side this one didn't reek of alcohol and vomit, a boon by any other name smelling just as sweet. "Who I am is of little real importance, Clergyman." the Chelish scholar chides, his voice riddled with sarcasm and indifference to form some unfathomable concoction of generic dis-satisfaction at the being brought before him. Looking the stout fellow up and down a few times, the egotistical scion applies more pressure to the hilt of his blade, ready to draw steel in the event the inferior little dwarf really was drunk and looking for a fight before continuing on with the business at hand. "I've journeyed numerous leagues from my home to reach this... erm... 'civilized' locale, following instructions relayed to me by a woman who was investigating the Lamm Incident, if you catch the vernacular." Crispin states condescendingly, his eyes intently focused on the pain-stakingly stumpy individual before him. "You, Clergyman, were part of the contingency group that dealt with him -- or so the rumor mill would lead me to believe, at any rate. My purpose here, dwarf, is to find this woman -- a personal friend of mine -- or at least some clue as to her whereabouts. Perhaps you've seen her? She's a human Pathfinder by the name of Malacia Thrune, easily identifiable by those blasted compass contraptions they always carry; about my height with brown hair, and Chelish." Snarkily, perhaps, would be putting the description of the inquiry lightly, but it nevertheless was just that -- an elaborate inquisition, sans the grotesque torture and (mostly) inhumane means of questioning.</blockquote>

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