“I am talking maybe even a third of the Bullis it takes to construct those beasts,” the mercenary insists, as if the poor watchman had any say in the matter.

“I’d better hope they’re as cheap as thou dost claim, man, thou art trying to sell broken boats! ‘Sides, I didst already assure you that the lord will be informed. What more dost thou want?”

Not relenting, the mercenary crossed his arms, manifesting an apparent shift in his attitude.

“Let's get this over with; this is one of my men,” he says with pride, before boasting how it would take ten Almarics to best him. A laughable claim all things considered; the man was lucky that neither of the two were clansmen, or his carcass just might have been fashioned into a bone totem by the eve’. Disturbingly, that was the least offensive thing the man said – he went on to outright threaten Almare, insinuating that if their offer were declined, they would pillage the countryside or attack Coalfell outright. Just how full of himself was this man?

“Hast thou lost thine senses, man?!” Cynbel exclaimed, clearly upset, “Thou art enjoying the hospitality of Almare, yet thou dost see fit to threaten the kingdom with pillage and battle! Is this thine thanks? We will relay your deal to the lord as agreed upon, and thou wilst hear in time, but thou art not crossing over this threshold while I or any Almaric still draw breath! Now, begone!”

(OOC: You’ll receive a written reply from Ardobert, presuming that the situation does not get more out of hand than it did; I’ll have to take a look at your ships again, but I’m probably going to buy them actually since I don’t have any whatsoever.)