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Message: <blockquote data-quote="mfrench" data-source="post: 3907757" data-attributes="member: 32901">As they make their way down into the town proper, a korobokuru sits on the porch of a trading post, whittling away at a piece of wood with a knife.  His hair is worn in the typical Kor style: a dirty, bushy black tangle.  His clothes, like everything else on this street, are dusty and in desperate need of cleaning.  He slowly comes to awareness of the approaching travelers, and hops out of his chair, replacing the knife in his belt and placing the carved wood on a table next to his chair.  He sweeps out a wide, shallow bow, greeting them in heavily accented, harsh Common: "Ah, welcome strangers.  What business leads brave men such as yourselves down from the mountains on this fine day?"</blockquote>