Surprised at how quickly Korga was disarmed, Tahlia looks over to the one holding the voidmaws, "Mind taking them away as we make a deal? Those are not necessary."
She then looks to Korga to see if he indeed has what they are looking for, keeping an eye out for deception.
Korga rubs his thick neck where Vic’s blade had pressed, glaring at the cleaver now in her hand. His pride smarted, but survival and appearances warred in his expression. He snorts.
“Tch… You lot got teeth, I’ll grant you. Ain’t many walk in here and walk out again, let alone talk big while doing it.” He jerks his chin toward the voidmaw keeper. “Put the beasts away. No need for a bloodbath when there's coin on the table.”
The beasts growl but are hauled away, chains scraping.
Turning back, Korga gestures to a nearby scrap-littered path. “Got a chassis that might be what you need. Pulled from a derelict three cycles ago. Didn’t test it, but no leech spores last I checked. We’ll go see it. You’ve earned a look.”
Though his voice is gruff and accommodating, his jaw is tight, and his shoulders still bristle—like a caged worg forced to heel. He glances at his watching crew, trying to puff himself back up with a bit of swagger. “Korga always makes deals with them what earn 'em.”
Korga rises slowly, hands open in grudging peace. He grunts, gesturing down a cluttered path between towering scrap heaps. “This way, merchants.” Tahlia watches closely—no falsehood darkens his words.
"Korga's no fool. Let's see whot ye got..". Vic says. She sheathes her rapier bit continues to carry Korga's weapon for the moment. Ever watchful, she keeps an eye out for any treachery.
Tahlia follows along, the earlier bravado of taking down the bullies that run this rock having been greatly diminished. She sighs, she feels for the ones that still occupy this place and then in a more urgent sense, she hopes that once they get what they need, will they be able to leave this rock? Undamaged?
Korga trudges ahead, boots crunching glass and rusted screws beneath him. With a grunt, he stops beside a twisted mound of scorched alloy and slag. “There,” he mutters, jabbing a thick finger toward a hunk of silver-gray metal half-buried beneath conduit coils and broken arcane drives.
Archael’seyes narrow. The lines—the lattice pattern along the spine, the spell-threaded inlays—match what Bramble had been fiddling with aboard the Pen & Parchment. “Looks like the chassis,” he murmurs. “Archsteel… possibly intact.”
"I think this might indeed be what we are looking for." The young white-haired waterdhavian noble says with a nod and a polite smile. "We need it to be fitted to be certain though. You can come and oversee everything of course to make sure we won't leave without giving you a fair price for it."
Korga’s lip curls as Archael speaks, the polite tone landing like barbs against his pride. His eyes harden, shoulders tightening beneath layers of corded muscle and soot-stained leather.
“I ain’t some copper-countin’ merchant,” he growls, voice low but thick with warning. “This ain’t a boutique and I ain’t your blacksmith.”
He steps closer, jabbing a thick finger at the archsteel. “You want it, you dig it out. You pay. Then you walk. That’s the deal.”
His grin turns sly, eyes flicking to the wreckage. “Or stay and earn your keep some other way. We always got use for amusement.”
He chuckles darkly, backing off just a step—just enough to shadow himself amid the towering junk.
"welp, Let's see if it will serve. You don't have anyone strong enough to get it out of there? We can handle it I suppose.". Vic says. she studies the situation and the device to see how it can be removed.
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"That's better. Ya see, we're traders, not raiders. Now lets make this happen. A good deal is all we want.".
Vic cautiously picks up Korga's cleaver and lowers her rapier.
Surprised at how quickly Korga was disarmed, Tahlia looks over to the one holding the voidmaws, "Mind taking them away as we make a deal? Those are not necessary."
She then looks to Korga to see if he indeed has what they are looking for, keeping an eye out for deception.
Insight: 7
Korga rubs his thick neck where Vic’s blade had pressed, glaring at the cleaver now in her hand. His pride smarted, but survival and appearances warred in his expression. He snorts.
“Tch… You lot got teeth, I’ll grant you. Ain’t many walk in here and walk out again, let alone talk big while doing it.” He jerks his chin toward the voidmaw keeper.
“Put the beasts away. No need for a bloodbath when there's coin on the table.”
The beasts growl but are hauled away, chains scraping.
Turning back, Korga gestures to a nearby scrap-littered path.
“Got a chassis that might be what you need. Pulled from a derelict three cycles ago. Didn’t test it, but no leech spores last I checked. We’ll go see it. You’ve earned a look.”
Though his voice is gruff and accommodating, his jaw is tight, and his shoulders still bristle—like a caged worg forced to heel. He glances at his watching crew, trying to puff himself back up with a bit of swagger.
“Korga always makes deals with them what earn 'em.”
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
Korga rises slowly, hands open in grudging peace. He grunts, gesturing down a cluttered path between towering scrap heaps. “This way, merchants.” Tahlia watches closely—no falsehood darkens his words.
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
"Korga's no fool. Let's see whot ye got..". Vic says. She sheathes her rapier bit continues to carry Korga's weapon for the moment. Ever watchful, she keeps an eye out for any treachery.
Tahlia follows along, the earlier bravado of taking down the bullies that run this rock having been greatly diminished. She sighs, she feels for the ones that still occupy this place and then in a more urgent sense, she hopes that once they get what they need, will they be able to leave this rock? Undamaged?
Korga trudges ahead, boots crunching glass and rusted screws beneath him. With a grunt, he stops beside a twisted mound of scorched alloy and slag. “There,” he mutters, jabbing a thick finger toward a hunk of silver-gray metal half-buried beneath conduit coils and broken arcane drives.
Archael’s eyes narrow. The lines—the lattice pattern along the spine, the spell-threaded inlays—match what Bramble had been fiddling with aboard the Pen & Parchment.
“Looks like the chassis,” he murmurs. “Archsteel… possibly intact.”
Korga folds his arms and waits, jaw tight.
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
"I think this might indeed be what we are looking for." The young white-haired waterdhavian noble says with a nod and a polite smile. "We need it to be fitted to be certain though. You can come and oversee everything of course to make sure we won't leave without giving you a fair price for it."
Korga’s lip curls as Archael speaks, the polite tone landing like barbs against his pride. His eyes harden, shoulders tightening beneath layers of corded muscle and soot-stained leather.
“I ain’t some copper-countin’ merchant,” he growls, voice low but thick with warning. “This ain’t a boutique and I ain’t your blacksmith.”
He steps closer, jabbing a thick finger at the archsteel.
“You want it, you dig it out. You pay. Then you walk. That’s the deal.”
His grin turns sly, eyes flicking to the wreckage.
“Or stay and earn your keep some other way. We always got use for amusement.”
He chuckles darkly, backing off just a step—just enough to shadow himself amid the towering junk.
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
"welp, Let's see if it will serve. You don't have anyone strong enough to get it out of there? We can handle it I suppose.". Vic says. she studies the situation and the device to see how it can be removed.