DHARRUS -
(Yes)

ARLEN -

(Roll a Persuasion or Intimidation (The Intimidation will be a higher DC)) 

16

HEDRAK -

Mork shrugges. "Both."

You see a gnome and halfling approach the bar beside you.

ARLEN -

The firbolg shrugs with a slight smile. "Sorry. The price stands."

 The human customer suddenly approaches and says, "Excuse me, but I'd be happy to pay for your items if you wish." The human has jet black hair that's tucked under an odd hat. Looks to be a bit older, and his clothing suggests he has a bit of money to his name.

Arlen raises his eyebrows in surprise at the human. “Why would would do that? I’m afraid I would not be able to repay you for a time”. 

ARLEN -

The man puffs out his chest a raises his chin. "No need for that. I believe everyone should have accessibility to the proper wears."

Arlen smiles at the man before sighing, “In that case kind sir, I will gladly accept your generosity, it really is much appreciated”, he bows his head slightly to the man before turning to the Firbolg, “have you anywhere I can change into these quickly perhaps?” 

ARLEN -

The firbolg gestures to the back, where a set of stalls sit in a row, all unoccupied. The firbolg then turns to the human. "The usual payment then, Mr. Stassor?"

The man nod. "Yes, and on top of that those fine pair of boots I've been looking at." 

Hedrak

"What do you have to eat then?" - Hedrak nods at the half-orc, taking a look at the gnome and halfling.

Arlen goes to the first stall he sees with the clothing in his hands, turning midway before saying “Thank you again, when I come out please talk with me a little sir”. He smiles before closing the stall. Slinging his pack off his shoulder. Arlen takes off the clothes he wore and stares at the pile with sadness, an ache blooming in his chest as he leaves his past behind. After changing he grabs his former clothing and tears off a small scrap of the shirt, no bigger than his hand, before tying it to the hilt of his sword. Strapping the shortsword to his back and slinging the pack over his shoulder once more, Arlen brushes away the stark white hair resting just over his eyes, pulls the hood over his head and the mask up and over the bridge of his nose, the only things now not covered by the clean black clothing being his hands and his eyes. 

HEDRAK - 

"Meat, crisps, nuts, and some cheese but the cheese is on the expensive side," Mork says as he pours a pitcher of water and hands it to the gnome.

ZOOK -

Mork continues talking to the half-orc as he hands you your water.

ARLEN -

The man stands, waiting for you outside. As you emerge he gives a nod of appreciation.

Spotting the man, Arlen approaches him. “Hello sir, glad to see you waited for me, so what is your name? Mine is Arlen, Arlen Mercer. It’s a pleasure to meet you and thank you again”. Arlen holds out his hand to shake. 

ARLEN -

The man shakes your hand heartily. "It is quite nice to meet you Mr. Mercer. My name is Mare Stassor. And do not mention it, my dear boy, I am happy to help."

the crows feet at Arlens eyes deepen depicting his hidden smile. “By the way Mr. Stassor, you don’t happen to know of any good inns I can lay my head to rest in for a night or two do you? Oh and I was also wondering what it is that you do?”. 

Hedrak

”Meat and crisps will do” - he replies - ”I am Hedrak, by the way. Have you been in town long?”

ARLEN -

Mare Strassor nods as if expecting the question. "There are a few places to rest here in the town square. Rum Always Runs and The Sellsword's Tankard are the local taverns, and The Restful Estate is a place to rest, is generally more expensive and luxurious, but doesn't serve the typical tavern accommodations." He gives a mischievous grin. "As to your question about myself, I am a member of the Jakorian Council; Representative of the Populous." He gives a deep bow. His hat falls off his head, but he snatches it with a flourish.

HEDRAK -

Mork ducks under the bar before emerging with a makeshift bowl of crisps. A young boy, possibly eighteen, comes out with a platter of sliced meats and places it before you.

Mork pours himself a drink of water and says, "Ah, I've been here thirteen years. Was mixed in with some shady stuff before the previous barkeeper took me in and taught me how to make a good living, without stealing and threating, you know? I took over once he retired, and now I'm one of the most well known faces in the city. Not bad for a half-orc, huh?"

He takes a long gulp of his water, streams running from his tusks. 
"Anyway, nice to meet you, Hedrak."

Dharrus talks to the guard in a low voice but without whispering. “Excuse me. My name is Dany Cobbler and I am traveling minstrel. As you know, part of a minstrel’s job is to spread the news to various towns. I couldn’t help but notice that you were speaking with what looked like Alesteir Slade. He is not normally known to be seen around these parts, do you know why he’s here?”