The man nodded lazily, paying no attention to the man who was speaking as he eyed the table's good with false greed. In truth, the Oligarch had similar stashes of alcohol and other such pleasures, but he did not even indulge in them himself, preferring to keep his mind clear. To maintain the illusion of gruffness that he had established, however, Ducard began to grab bottles of fine liquor and stash them in "Clydus'" coat. It made a better cover, quite simply.<br/><br/>"So, if the price is whatever I want it to be," he continued in his rough voice, "then I can take time to think about it while I go and kill the dragon." Finally turning his attention back to the doorman, his coat clinking with fine bottles stashed in the inner pockets, he grinned. "Why don't we just get it in writing that the price of my work is mine to state after the task is complete?"