You travel in Sassarine’s smallest district in the early evening. As the oppressive heat of the day is finally releasing its smothering grasp upon the city, it would be a pleasant affair, were you anywhere else. The watch is all but non-existent here, and you clutch your purse strings a little tighter as you travel through the slums of Sassarine, avoiding the places where raw sewage runs freely towards the sea.
You arrive at a ramshackle wattle and daub building with a shingle out front displaying a pitiable rendition of an ogre floating on a log, using a goblin as a fishing lure.
There appear to be no customers about, and as you step inside the surprisingly tidy shop’s interior, you can see a thickset, balding dwarven man polishing a ship’s bell.
Upon questioning him regarding Vanthus’ recent purchase, he replies emphatically,
“Purchased? Stole is more like! That idiot and his hothead friend practically extorted a boat outta me. Lotus at their beck and call, what could I do? They had all kinds of exact dimensions too, as if they were trying to squeeze it somewhere. I told them where they could squeeze that boat into, let me tell you!”
The dwarf chuckles mirthlessly a bit, then continues glumly.
“They were pretty excited about something. Had lamps, oil, and ropes; portaged the whole lot back towards the Merchant District. I hope they choke on the lot of them.”
“Now unless you’re buying something. GET OUT. Do come back again.”
