Oriske sighed at Tiris's words, running a hand though his hair. "Fine. But if we get caught, I will dump your ass the moment I can." He went to the door, buttoning up his jacket as he walked towards it. "Let's go." What Oriske had failed to notice as he had plundered Dimaethor's room was a small mechanical spider in the corner of the room, recording everything that had transpired between them.
Through careful sneaking and some more hiding in broom closets, Oriske was soon leading Tiris towards the slums of Ashanti. Gradually, the buildings, which were, by default, grand in the city, became run-down, broken-into houses that looked no better than the shacks and tents that lied at its outskirts. "We're seeing my fence, first," he explained, the jeweled rings on his fingers sparkling in the light. Soon, a couple young, dirty orphan children approached him, searching through his pockets and asking if he had any sweets or toys for them. Smiling, he knelt to their level, hugging and tickling each one before handing them a couple coins and saying, "Go buy a pie from the stand down the road, alright? I'll see about getting you two some toys, maybe." As he spoke, he had taken on an accent that was more common on the streets. Instead of sounding like a noble, he now sounded like a common street thief. Straightening, he strolled into a house that looked more dilapidated than the others.
Oriske led Tiris to the back room, where an older elf was examining a pair of pistols. Even from a distance, Oriske could tell they were Grund pistols, some of the best ever crafted. "Hey, Falain," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I've got ten jeweled rings that I need to get rid of discreetly. And those pistols look damn fine..." He grinned, taking his hands from his pockets and showing Falain the rings.
"We got a deal?" he asked, slipping them off his fingers. "I'll give you these five for the pistols, and the rest I'll sell to you..."
The older elf examine each of the rings, making sure they were genuine. "Sure, Ori," he said, handing over the pistols and standing. "Ten thousand sound good?" Oriske nodded, readily accepting the money from the man's own pocket.
Turning to Tiris, Oriske handed him one thousand marks, saying, "You're my bodyguard, now, alright?"