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spectrumancer said;
[…] Heyyyy, that guy on the left looks familiar….
As you glance between the ponies around the public place, one of them in particular catches your attention: what looks like a stout, long-bearded stallion wearing a full set of armour.
Between the angular violet plates, the outlandish horned helmet, and the lantern hanging from his tail, you realize that he seems to match the description of the traveller Honourshine once met before, and point him out to her.
Moonflower: “Ooh, you’re right!”
Honourshine: “… That has to be him.”
You ask her if she thinks you should approach him, and she offers an unconvinced shrug in response.
Honourshine: “If you believe you can get more out of him than I could, then be my guest. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
With nothing to lose for trying, you decide to cut through the square, and cross his path on the other side. Once you get close enough, you excuse yourself to get his attention, and he stops to look at you. His large moustache barely wiggles as a voice of pure gravel escapes from underneath.
Traveller: “Aye?”
You greet the traveller, and begin introducing yourself to him, but he cuts you off as soon as you speak your name.
Traveller: “Dun moch cur whu ye’re. Sumin’ yeu wan’?”
… It takes you a moment to realize that the language he spoke in was, in fact, Ponish — and that he seemingly is every bit as rude as Honourshine made him out to be. Still, you decide to try again, and cut to the chase. You ask him if he remembers meeting your friend Honourshine a few weeks ago. He looks over to her, then back to you.
Traveller: “Eh, nun ter ‘member s’for s’Oi kneu.”
You squint your eyes in an attempt to better decypher the traveller’s impossibly thick accent, but it doesn’t help much. Either way, you remind him of the bell the historian is carrying, and how he claimed it was of Elven make. You ask if there is anything more he could tell you about it.
Traveller: “Still cerr’in’ tha’ ol’ jonk ‘reund, ere wey? Hear thar’s sum noice hot-bubblin’ vulcaneus ‘er eastwar’ oisles.”
Hearing him speak of what sounds like volcanoes lets you fairly guess at what he’s suggesting again. However, he does seem to know at least something about the artifact or its origin. You try asking if there is anything you could trade with him in exchange for that knowledge.
Traveller: “Moight; ‘erweurld’s droi’s ash, ‘tis. Tell yeu whot: get mey yer streunges’ drink an’ a hoigh-tail wench, an’ Oi’ll spell i’ eut fer ye. Nu’h’it matters moch.”
You don’t even need to look over to Honourshine to feel the flatness of her stare. You sense that she certainly doesn’t think his deal any more worthy of consideration now than she did before.
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