[Links Kha'Serith]

They both seem like nice people. Perhaps it would do me some good to be social. The dracon grunted to himself. Maybe he was a little to over protective of himself. Plenty of dracons walked the street, open with their race. But Links was of the Moraden mindset. Nothing could change that, so he would continue to live as he currently did, hiding in plain sight, ready for trouble. (and sometimes causing it)

"Very true Gwyneth, I have nothing to fear from you or from Vincent. But I would rather play it safe. Now as for your story. Yes I would like to hear it, but probably not in the middle of the street. We should go to an inn or tavern so we can sit down." A small dim flash came from his hood as the dracon smiled. "Besides, I think I need a drink right about now. Would you care to join us Vincent? You can read as we go. We won't let you fall too many times." Links laughed and clapped the softskin's back heartily. He then set off toward down the street toward the nearest pub which happened to be fairly near.

The tavern was much like any other tavern in the city. Slightly smokey, neat and cozy, and few people since it was the middle of the day. Links walked in and signaled to the barkeeper, then picked out a table near the middle of the room. As they sat down a young waitress, barely sixteen, came to take their orders. "I'll pay for your drinks. Bring me an ale and whatever they want." Hopefully this would set up a good mood for conversation. "So Gwyneth, what is this about slave traders?"