Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-26446054-20150827123016/@comment-26446054-20150830103815

Cyrnin peered at a noisy salesman, sighing. He figured that this man would charge thousands for his creations, considering how hard it was to get hold of parts for a gun; The Imperial Legion had a stranglehold on the industry, and bandits would be more dangerous than ever with guns. Still, he didn't have to buy from him; he could just ask him if he'd take Cyrnin as an apprentice, considering he was quite good at shaping metal, and understood muskets quite well.

A hooded Altmer, after handing another a satchel in haste, stepped over to Tryce discreetly, hands in pockets. "Would you be interested in buying 'powder? Or do you need cheap magic, Breton?" He muttered, his face barely showing any skin; he was quite overdressed, as the air here was rather warm, and he was wearing a large cloak, akin to Thalmor uniform, a steel dagger strapped to his waist.