Toran strode into the amusingly named Toss Your Tankard tavern just as twilight was yielding to night. He had been reluctant to part company with the delightful Yrlissa, but once he saw her safely back to her clan’s encampment there was little to be gained by lingering there; so he trekked on to Harrowdale town where the Red Plumes’ “tax” victims were bound. It wasn’t difficult to determine where to find the two merchants, at this hour most business would be conducted in taverns, and since the only choices in town were the infamous Fall of Stars club, which required a steep fee for membership, the Fouled Line, a notorious dive too ruckus for such activities, and the Toss Your Tankard, it was an easy deduction to make. As usual Styx attracted a significant amount of attention when they entered, making it impossible for him to keep as low a profile as he would have liked, but the pseudodragon’s presence garnered him a warmer welcome than he would likely have received alone, and it didn’t take more than a simple request for the tavern keeper to identify the two merchants he sought; Thorik Stoneshield, a shield dwarf from Glen in Mistledale, the only dwarven settlement in the Cormanthor, and Lureene Amblecrown, who turned out to be quite an attractive, fiery-haired local woman. “Master Stoneshield... I believe you had a disagreeable encounter with some Red Plumes about a week ago,” he addressed the young dwarf, taking a seat across from him at a small table uninvited. “So I did,” Thorik growled wearily. It wasn’t uncommon for a stranger to approach him, he was easily to identify as one of the few of his kin in town, and was known to trade dwarven goods, but it was certainly an unusual greeting. “I believe they relieved you of a hundred of gold pieces,” Toran continued, placing a purse of coins on the table before the stunned merchant, then explained; “I had a disagreement of my own with the same men a few days ago. But with quite a different outcome... a rather final one... for them!” Thorik sat in stunned disbelief for a moment; apparently this half-elven dandy had dispatched the Hillsfarian thugs that robbed him on the road... and was actually returning the gold they had stolen from him. Then he roared with laughter as a broad smile broke his previously stoic expression, and exclaimed; “No men deserved it more!” Looking to the tavern keeper behind the bar and raising his tankard, he demanded, “Bring my friend here a pint so we can toast the good ridden of bad brigands... may their souls roast in whatever hell with have them!” “An unnecessary, but welcome, gesture my friend,” Toran thanked the dwarf with an amused smile as he accepted the tankard of stout and raised it in toast. “I assure you I’ve already been well compensated for my efforts,” he confessed after taking a deep draw of the frothy liquor. “You see they had a quite lovely young elf-maid in a compromised position when I happened upon them... and she was extremely grateful for my intervention.” “I’ll bet she was!” Thorik laughed, easily imagining the many wonderful ways a pretty young elfling could thank the dashing half-elf. ****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** Additional Credits: From DAZ3d: * The FREAK by DAZ Originals * RPG Series Part 1: Dwarves by John Malis * Mystic Hallow by LaurieS