A wry smile appeared on the owner's face, as he quickly grabbed the coins and put them in his pocket.

"Hm, me fren', there be many rumors floatin' around. And I can just feel dat somethin' big is brewin', if ya get what I mean. I've heard that Pierre Le Grand, da one that likes ta be called "King o' Pirates", be involved with somethin' about Forestlin's. Dey say he wan's ta get rid o' them, once an' for all, an' that he got da soldiers an' da Empera' on 'is side.

Anotha' thin dat's spoken of a lot is dat dem elves beyond the Hilìr be growin' more an' more restless by da day. Dey sent their soldiers all over dem plains, and dey be buyin' lots an' lots of weapons from us an' da dwarves. Dem elves be up to no good, I tell ye, me lad.

About da places, lemme think. If ye wanna get rich, get to Teitania. A lad o' mine just returned from dere. He sold loads o' scrap like wood an' cloth, an' dey gave 'im a mountain o' gold fo' dat! But if ye like things gettin'...adventurous, there be many dangerous places past da Holler. Blashyrk Pass be just northeast of Teitania, an' none who crossed cam back. Plus, crazy ass explorers be always lookin' for some fool to follow them eastwards. Ye jus' need to look fo' dem: ships and expeditions leave almost everyday."

The man turns towards what looks like the beginning of a brawl, and sighs. What began as an arm-wrestling contest between a human sailor and a dwarf is quickly degenerating.

"I'm afraid I must leave ye, me lads. Anythin' else ye wanna ask?"

The owner notices that somebody else entered his inn, an old friend, and waves at her.

"Aye, madame Talon!"