<div align="center"><strong>Situation Update</strong></div>Nothing to report; same day.<br/><br/><div align="center"><strong>Solifria</strong></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">Sal looks you over with a calculating but not malicious gaze, sizing up your apparent wealth and value compared to the inks you seek. He pursues his lips and murmurs, “Those dyes come from the Dulosia and are fairly rare, even if the Dulosians don’t charge very much for them.” Pausing, he considered her again, about to add something, no doubt to enhance the price. <br/><br/>Corann leans forward, coughing softly as though suddenly very interested in what the man is about to say. (DM Note: Corann full post shortly to follow)<br/><br/>Paling a bit, the tanned, accented Sal shrugs and admits, “The box is worth more than the inks, to be truthful. The Dulosians use the inks in almost everything over there. Three gold and the whole set is yours. Five if you want the box, too.”</div></div><div align="center"><strong>Hollywillow</strong></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">As you approach the distant city, filled with the disgusting smells of men and ships, you note an oddity in the distance, perhaps a mile to your West, closer to the roaming horses. A small, thin man, perhaps in his fifties, with a wiry sensibility about him wearing a brown tunic and pants, with no shoes, is moving among a half dozen horses. Where he steps, you can see the grass grow, but you don’t sense that he has druidic power about him. It may be worth investigating, or not. If you wish to continue into Dulon, feel free.<br/></div></div><div align="center"><strong>Callista</strong></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">Hari smirks at you and looks you over again, gauging your abilities. There’s no sense of attraction in the older man’s features, though there might be a professional curiosity about what you look like beneath your clothes. He is a man, after all. <br/><br/>Finally, after a few seconds, he responds, “Look, if you want training. I just got done training a strange warrior a few weeks ago for doing me a favor. You do me the same and take care of those remaining Blood Elves south of the town, and I’ll help you out. If you want to get into trouble, I suggest you investigate the Larluck mansion. Otherwise, I keep the peace inside my town. There isn’t much call for assassins here. Accord, maybe. Trumviral, definitely.  A lot of other places, too. None of them near here. I suggest you learn skills useful in adventuring groups – how to work with others, make allies – get them to trust you, and get your cut while keeping yourself as far from danger as possible. It’s the way of the world for the majority of the people seeking power.” He gestured out the door with his chin, a jerk of taut muscle despite his clearly advanced age. “Adventurers come through town all the time. Offer your skills detecting traps, making or neutralizing poisons, and your skill with a dagger or whatever tools you use, and they are sure to keep you on.”<br/><br/>He pauses, looking you over again, then exhales. “And, for women, there are other options, as I am sure you’re aware. A little flirting and seduction can go a long way, if that’s your cup of tea.”<br/><br/>He goes silent then, amiable but not extremely forthcoming either, as though waiting for you to prove yourself- in one way or another – before anything of further use comes from him.<br/><br/></div></div><div align="center"><strong>Nemea</strong></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">Your observations and bearing do not go unnoticed. After a few minutes of watching the collection of huge, tonner-sized wagons, each with gilded calligraphy and ornate designs carved through wood and beams alike, a rather tall but attractive woman in burnished (but colorfully decorated) full plate wanders over to you. Something in her bearing suggests a sort of tense awareness that wouldn’t normally be there, as though she’s had a recent shock. <br/><br/>“Hello there adventurer,” she says after glancing you over, taking your stature in. Closer, you can see that the woman isn’t precisely attractive, but she carries a tremendous vitality, a passion that illuminates her aquamarine eyes and makes her lush lips seem appealing. Though she’s a head and shoulders taller than you. <br/><br/>“How can Mariana’s Circus be of aid to you?” she smiles and offers a big, steel-gloved hand, the dancing patterns of color on the steel indicating that it must be imbued with power, but you detect no arcane magic radiating from it at all. You’ve heard of this: the Dulosians empower their artifacts and creations with their passion. She would be a formidable opponent to anyone on the battlefield, or so your discernment detects. </div></div>