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[Iron Kingdoms] The Age of Rust.

Tyra:

You didn't get any money up front, by Tyra still has 49 gold crowns and some shrapnel, according to her sheet.

Check the last post on pg. 3 of this thread; I detailed some of the sellers she found there. A gobber gunsmith was selling small pistol charges for 9 gp, and had three in stock, plus something called a 'hellfire shell' for 30 gp. You can of course attempt to barter him down with Diplomacy.

edit: Correct data, this time.
 
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Tyra

After finishing up her cleaning, the red headed gun mage wanders a bit, looking over the material at hand, mostly for curiousity since she's not 'reelin' in crown right now, but she stops at the one table.

"Er now.. what the devil is a hellfire?" points to the sign in pidgin common as she looks at the gobber merchant. "And why de blazes is it almost 5 times as much as your normal shot?"

(After hearing the explanation)

"Sounds impressive, but that much? I'll give ya.. 25 and buy 2 more rounds for me belt as well."

(ooc: consider her dickering/batering for the stuff.. diplomacy mode enagaged.)
 

Tyra:

(OOC: After you both roll a 1 on your opposed diplomacy checks...)

There appears to an interspecies breakdown in communication. To whit, he calls you a 'fat arsed farrow-sow' and you call him a 'boil-encrusted slime sucker'.

This doesn't bode well for the rest of the negotiation, and it appears actually buying anythng may be out of the question.
 

*Eyvind looks at Dark with an expression of confusion tinged with disgust.*

Dark flinched at Eyvind’s look, he was used to such stares, but they still made him hurt, hurt in his chest. Ah, but the pretty lady made it all better, she with her deep shadows and bright flames, oh yes, bright flames!
A flicker of madness creeps back into Dark’s eyes, threatening to engulf him in a conflagration of lunacy, but, poised for a figurative swan-dive into the abyss of his mind, the Rynnish sorcerer is startled back from the edge by the arrival of the foppish dandy.

"good afternoon, gentlemen,"….

Dark listens in fascination to the honeyed tones of the Caspian and follows after the two men as they make their way towards Tyra. Dark could see, by dint of ‘his’ height that the red-head was currently in a heated exchange with a gobber merchant. Eyeing a tall stack of rugs next to a stall of books and scrolls in a, currently, unpopulated area of the bazaar, Dark felt an old, familiar urge and wondered if Tyra would appreciate a distraction….
 

"Oi, Tyra! Where'd ya learn ta speak Gobber, a brothel?"

Kneecap bows and apologizes to the merchant in Gobberish, explaining politely that his tallfolk friend knows very few Gobber words other than swears and insults. No harm was meant, she was only trying to conduct a transaction the only way she knew how.

Diplomacy +1

"Now, is there any way I can help conclude this transaction. Some shots for Miss Rose perhaps?"

"By the way, Boss Zog has saves us four rooms at the Brothel. My apologies in advance for the noise. It is a Gobber brothel... But at least we'll get a soft bed for an evening or two. I'm afraid I'll have to pay the price later... but for now, let us get Eyvind back on his feet."
 

Seeing another gobber arrive at the stall where Tyra is arguing, Dark makes the connection and remembers that this one is called Kneecap. He was nice to Dark.

The gobber called Kneecap appears to calm the situation down, so Dark extinguishes the flame that had blossomed in his hand and moved away from the pile of rugs and dry parchment scrolls. Sighing wistfully, the Rynnish sorcerer moves back into the thronging market, towards his companions.

“Not yet my Lady, not yet.”
 


Eyvind

Eyvind

*Eyvind stands next to Gavyn and rests his hand on his sword hilt. While watching the situation unfold he leans slightly towards Gavyn to speak softly.*

"Ja, soo here dey are. Du met da loon." indicating Dark, "Also dees gobber und da roodhead." indicating Kneecap and Tyra. "Und Eg ih Eyvind. Vee best nei let dees get too bad, deyr too many gobbers."
 

gavyn dundrake

"aye, perhaps we can be of some assistance. you need to talk to these gobbers in language they understand...." gavyn says to the giant northener and gives a wink.

he strides confidently over to the heated dispute, eyvind close on his heels.

"captain gavyn dundrake at your service, madame," the caspian gives another enflourished bow, to tyra this time.

he turns to the gobber merchant. "aye, me old mucker, don't give a toss to the lippy flamelocks' words. just 'aving a bad day, is all. truth is your gubbins is top-notch and she'd be dead chuffed to buy some. what's a price you think is fair?" [diplomacy +10]
 

Kneecap & Gavyn:

The fat little merchant is still splutteirng indignantly when Kneecap approaches him, but for some reason the prospect of exchaning money for goods seems to calm him down enormously. A moment later, the talfolk named Dundrake joins in, and the two of you fall into an instinctual routine of 'Pigeon & Plucker'

A quick round of barter later, and you have negotiated him down to a price of 7 gold crowns per charge, and 22 for the hellfire, which is apparently some nasty alchemical concoction loaded into a hollow bullet. You might not have been able to get him so low, but he seemed distracted by the recent row, and perhaps over eager to re-establish his buisness.
 

Into the Woods

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