"Who told you to buy from Grunwald and Sons?" Marius asked, stroking his fine chin. 

"No vaun? De sell gahnpiwder, da?" She asked as if it were that simple. To the common man it often was, or the foreigner. She had saved Marius's life, the least he could do would be to give her some advice. 

"Yes, but Grunwald has recently passed away. His sons control the business now and there are rumors that they're very cutthroat in their business. They lack the honor of their late sire and might not get the best price for you. You don't want to pay top dollar for subpar gunpowder. You would be better off with longbows and trebuchets like the frogs." 

"Vrogs?" She inquired, hiccuping from drinking too much vodka too swiftly. She held it better than Marius at least. He had yet to finish his first cup and she was on her second. He drained it hurriedly before he answered, and felt like he had been shot for the trouble. Still, as the seconds passed he felt quite good. 

"Brettonians." Marius explained. He poured himself the second glass and blinked, trying to regain his sensibilities. An idea suddenly popped into his head, perhaps influenced by the drink but a solid thought none the less. He did need an 'in' in the business world of Ostland. Maybe having an association with this barbarian death-maiden and speaking to an agent from Grunwald and gaining a relationship there would be fortuitous to gain. "If you would like, I could come with you and help inspect the stock." 

"I can guarantee I could sort through the bullshit for you," Marius boasted, finding his tongue was getting looser by the second. "Plus a lot people here would take advantage of an attractive foreigner. You could kill someone but that won't help you get gunpowder..." 

Marius hiccuped himself, patting his chest with his fist. He was quickly forgetting what he was saying, but the drink was good and the company was different so he wasn't going to complain. "You are quite good with that spear and blade and...all of it. You know I'm a duelist myself." He said, half forgetting he wasn't nearly as good as most of his peers. "My trainer was a bravo from Tilea, famous for erm... swords."