Ashlig nods to Threnduil as he withdraws. He bites his lip. That man has some burdens to bear I'd never wish on anyone.
He hefts his trusty black marketeer's bag and begins to make his way down the street. The bag has saved him from inquisition from the Technic League more times than he can count, and it's help up even when making the switch from scavenging to adventuring. He nods to citizens as they pass, and stops at a crossroad, debating on where to head to next.
Can't figure what to sell if I don't lay it all out. I'm sure Khonnir won't mind if I monopolize a table or two. He might be interested in the tech anyway.
After a moment Ashlig heads over to the Foundry.
He steps inside, waves to Khonnir and Val behind the bar, and sits down at a table. He unslings his bag from his back and begins pulling out items one by one until there's a veritable wealth of items spread out on one table and spilling onto the next.
