Davor Turvoc was in a foul mood due to the sweltering humidity of this place. Even his lightweight robes seemed no match for the horrible humidity and he found himself constantly in need of relief from this heat. However even his water skin couldn't provide the need for a cold drink of perhaps sweet wine or such. Hell for a place that supposedly had struck a diamond mine, this town didn't seem to show the least bit of intense wealth save for basic needs. Hell it couldn't even be called a town, more like a bloody hamlet! The sorcerer had hoped to purchase a plot of land or a house or such with his remaining wealth but that seemed like a dream made of sand now.<br/><br/>Frustrated he started heading for whatever equates to a tavern in this damn place. His sturdy boots crushed the shells underneath his heels as he treads upon the road. His eyes looked on though his did not make eye contact with anyone for the last thing he wanted was to frighten a bunch of people like this or have to waste precious energy. He did however catch sight of the monk and began approaching the dog cart wondering perhaps he could get the man to part with some of his wine. It was a long shot but he would kill for a drink at this point. Reflexively swatting at a bug that tried to land upon his clothed arms an exposed amount of pale bone white skin and trimmed silver grey nails was briefly seen before being covered up. The sorcerer spoke with a rough, dry edge to his voice, a mixture of human dialects with a strong tone of voice.<strong>"Greetings monk. I don't suppose you'd be willing to part with a bottle of vintage for fair compensation perhaps?"</strong>