SpoilerThe man stops for a moment on his tracks and looks at Rosapia, for a moment he seems surprised but he quickly regains his composure. He moves his arms and when he does it seems that the wind starts singing, there is music in him.
-Well you know I am a trouper, or was, well that doesn't matter. Troupers normally wear clothes like this, and I got used to it.
He moves with a studied dance pass looking at Rosapia showing her how the whole fabrics move and seem to sing while he dances.
-But I am bit busy you know? I suppose that if you are interested in troupers you could ask around maybe there is some company in Arcadia.
SpoilerYour sense motive doesn't detect if he is lying or not
SpoilerThe elf rolls her eyes and puts her finger back into the red paste and this time she puts something on her face, drawing a red line from check to check passing over her nose just below the eyes. For an instant her face changes, it seems feral and untamed. Her eyes shine with a blue tint and her expression is much firmer than it was before, but it is swiftly gone with a sight.
-Little man is sick. Little man needs medicine. Me helps. In exchange little man helps himself.
She speaks slowly and pausing after each sentence, like Vlad is just a baby who is still struggling to speak. There doesn't seem to be malice in her voice, even if she keeps referring to the Goliath as little man.
-This medicine not potent enough, need ingredients. Jungle has ingredients. Little man helps himself, and me. Understand?
The elf looks at the Goliath to see if he can understand.
Spoiler-Clearly anyone with half a brain would say that. You don't **** with the Jungle Madoc, you just don't. That's what most of Arcadia believes, and I am not going to prove them wrong look at me I am a dwarf.
He knocks his slate armor with his closed punch full of pride and fervor. His gaze for a second goes towards his weapons, the long dwarpike that rests against the wall and the sharpened buckler axe that is by the table.
-But people with half a brain don't go to the jungle. They get killed. And even my bearded blind mother knows that you have a brain almost as good as that of a dwarf. Getting a hold on Maron and part of his riches could greatly benefit your plan.
SpoilerSpoilerActually I did know that Nor didn't need to eat, but I expected her to have material needs I'll try to keep that in mind
Nor arrived at the Goldtooth mansion, dully named as Dragon's Treasure by its owner and Beggars Doom by the peasants. The reason for the second name was standing by the front door. A tall man, taller than most men and broader than many, was standing guarding the entrance. His nose long and sharp as a saver was pointed to the sky like a bird of prey stalking possible victims. Most of his expression was lost bathed by the sun, but when he smelled Nor he turned his head. Even if big he was human, perhaps he had had giants as distant ancestors or had just exercised a bit too much during his youth. He was Assend Sharp assistant of Maron Goldtooth and his guardian. Rumors stand that he was an assassin and stabbed people to death with his nose,
Whether he was an assassin or not is at the moment irrelevant. He approaches Nor with sure pace showing off his well cut clothes that he wears.
-What brings you hear?