|
Giving the dwarf time to complete his sentence, Vashael had the answer quickly at hand. He refrained from abusing social protocol and held course.
"One thousand gold crowns provided you send a trusted man who will carry the weight as a means of future communication and insurance. I'll leave a courier within shouting distance who will counter the offer and provide equal enterprise."
With a small breach of predisposed emotion, Vashael faked a light touch of humanity and goodwill.
"It bodes well to see you favor this approach Irfon, although I am fully aware your generosity is based upon results. Let us come to an agreement, binded to contract and Pecunia's grace. Money after all, never sleeps.."
The Vagaran's features broadened then smoothed in their firmament. He stood as a citadel of stone, solid and patient as time it's self.
|