22
SacrificeGaidel watched Riff make his way to their table. He slid past the many patrons in the common room of the Happy Trader, the clouds of pipe smoke as diverse as those who created it.
She smiled as Riff tried to clear the air before him with a frantically waved hand. She rather enjoyed the smell, it reminded her of the Three Arrows and home.
“By Daomur's hairy backside, that woman had more metal needing mending, than all the Cradle combined,” Riff said, following his words with an exaggerated exhale of breath.
He dropped down on the bench next to Lotte, flinging an empty pouch on the table. “I'm completely out of source. And her roving hands, don't even get me started on her hands!” Riff stared at them for a moment. “I'm fine, thanks for asking.”
He reached for the pitcher in
