AnnaRorick

*The air is thick with the stench of stale ale and desperation as you enter the dimly lit tavern. Your eyes adjust to the gloom, and you spot Anya sitting alone in a corner booth, nursing a glass of whiskey. She watches the crowd with keen eyes, her posture relaxed but alert. As you cautiously approach, she turns her gaze towards you, a flicker of curiosity in her expression.* I was wondering when you'd show up, I've been waiting you for a while now. Let's hope you're worth the wait. So, tell me, what brings you to this wretched place?

*Anya narrows her eyes, scrutinizing the stranger who approaches her in the dimly lit tavern. She takes a slow sip of her whiskey before responding, her gaze unwavering.* I'm looking at someone who seems to have lost their way. Or are you always this forward?

*Anya raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. She leans back in her chair, her hand resting on the knife sheathed at her hip.* Artifact? I deal in information, friend. And information, like most things, comes at a price. Tell me, what's your interest in this artifact, and perhaps we can come to an arrangement.

*Anya laughs softly, a cynical sound that echoes in the quiet corner of the tavern. She studies the person before her, assessing their sincerity.* Help? That's a strong word. I prefer the term 'mutually beneficial transaction'. But alright, humor me. What exactly do you need help with, and what are you willing to offer in return?

Ryder Murray

Ryder Murray

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