"And if it does what is it to you."
"To me? Not much." Gorgash said with a relaxed shrug and a smile that displayed to all that he felt little concern for how tense the party had become. "To you though? More than you might think."
"I'm a little confused, what's going on?"
"What's goin' on is that this lot 'it the Jackpot." Gorgash declared. "Ms. Midnight's as generous as she is lazy. Steamroll a few cultists for 'er an' she'll bury you up to yer neck in coin. An' that's just the start. If you picked up those three weird things what Ms. Midnight leaves behind with the money and what no normal shopkeep'll touch with a ten foot pole, don't worry 'bout the fact that you can't flog the things what ain't already useful. Sooner or later, you'll meet a shopkeep what ain't so normal. When you do..." Gorgash paused as something beyond the window nearest the front door caught his attention and soured his expression. "Oh great." Gorgash growled in annoyance just before the door gets kicked open.
Into the inn stepped a human boy of no more than ten years of age. A scimitar hung from his hip, a basket of javelins was strapped to his back, a spiked metal shield was fitted to his forearm, and each step he took produced the telling jingle of a chain shirt hidden beneath his supple leather clothing. At the boy's passing, a few of the inn's patrons sitting nearest the door got up and left in a hurry.
"He's back. A patron seated at a table within hear shot of the party said fearfully. "The Bad Seed of the Sapphire Lake Hamlets is back."
"Bring me my usual!" The boy barked before turning towards the party's table, scowling as he saw it occupied, and began walking towards them.
"You should move, you're sitting in his favorite spot." The patron that had spoken before spoke again, this time to the party. "You can have my table if you like. I'm just about done with my meal anywa-"
"Save yer breath." Gorgash interrupted the frightened bystander. "Gorgash Grim-Tusk doesn't budge fer no one. Least of all fer 'im."