Magnus Arhakaine
Location: The streets of Salaran
Interacting With: Nor, Ntaj, and Thomas
Say one thing for the Dwarven barber, say he was committed to his craft. Magnus had never met a man so skilled or insistent at the hard sell. Truth be told, the man’s passion was more than a touch intimidating.
And maybe he had a point. After all, who would know more about proper beard care than a dwarf? Maybe he should take him up on his offer after all. That said, Maggie didn’t have the time just now. Too many questions were still left unanswered about Salarn, too many rocks left unturned, too many people hiding secrets. There was a job to do here. After, and only after, could he even countenance relaxing.
He held his hands up in surrender.
“Alright, alright, I give, ok? I’ll let you ply your craft on my mug, if’n the price be right. Not just now though. There’s work to be done, and not as much time to do it in as I’d like. I’ll come find you when I’ve got a moment to spare, and then we’ll test the proof of your claims. Happy? In the meantime, have a drink on me.” That said, he raised his hand and ordered a tankard of mead for the barber. Hopefully that would pacify the irate shorty.
He watched on in awe as Ntaj devoured what seemed like half Salarn’s food supplies in one sitting, equal parts amazed and horrified at the half-Orcs appetite. It was really quite the scene. They were joined by a young-looking man in a robe, a mage of some sort if Magnus was any judge. He’d try not to hold it against him. The mage seemed to be pouring his heart out about … well, Magnus wasn’t entirely sure, the man spoke too quickly to keep track off, and he was only half paying attention anyway – too busy entranced by the spectacle that was Ntaj eating – but the supposed-spellcaster seemed quite aggrieved. He finally paused in his monologue just long enough to offer his opinions of Magnus’ earlier actions. The swordsman offered him a small grin and a shrug in response.
“Don’t worry about it lad. I have that effect on all the ladies. Usually doesn’t take quite so quickly mind you, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t used to it.” Ntaj, finished with his titanic sized meal, introduced himself for a second time, revealing that he was a berserker from Dark Star. Seemed polite for the swordsman to do likewise.
“Names Maggie Arhakaine, from out Neverwinter way. Not much too tell really, I got a sword, I hit things with it. Simple, but simple works, ken?”
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