<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/b0/Daud.jpg)</div><br/><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Daud (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=173912.msg8224933#msg8224933)<br/><strong>Nationality:</strong>Shemite<br/><strong>Class/Skill Set:</strong>Merchant, Pickpocket<br/><strong>Location:</strong>In a corner of the Leaky Wench<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Cormac, Mira, Bhalar, Lukas<br/><hr/><br/>"So what did you do next?"<br/><br/>The question shook Daud out of his thoughts. The Shemite merchant offered the black-haired girl in his lap a weak smile. "It's easy to outrun a drunk man. The only things Hyrkanians love more than horses is wine, and this Hyrkanian was<em>very</em>drunk. And surprisingly horseless."<br/><br/>"You're drunk too," the whore noted slyly, slipping a hand inside Daud's robes.<br/><br/>"Maybe," Daud conceded. "But among Shemites, I'm a bit of an exception." He let the girl play with him for a moment, simply savoring the feel of her fingertips dancing across his flesh, raising goosebumps. Some of her slender fingers touched silvery scars, still reddened from his long imprisonment, which elicited small hisses of pain. Then, he reached up and cupped the girl's cheek, another hand reaching underneath to grab her. She gasped, perhaps out of surprise, then snatched her fingers back. Daud smiled and twisted his hips, sending the half-naked whore tumbling to the ground with a thump and a faint jingle of coins. Daud heard a roar of laughter from the table nearby, saw the girl's pale face color red with embarrassment, and allowed himself a laugh of his own. "Maybe you should watch your own drink, little girl. Go find someone else to tell you stories. I'm done with you for the night." He gave her a light kick - more of a threatening foot gesture than anything else - and watched her crawl away, a hateful look in her eyes.<br/><br/>Daud sighed, then sat back and began counting the silver pieces in his new coinpurse. He didn't miss the old one - it was mostly full of coppers, and there seemed to be a hole in it that drinking alone couldn't justify - but he wondered idly how long it would take before Shamhat realized they'd swapped bags.<em>The price of being a rotten pickpocket.</em><br/><br/>He glanced over at the next few tables, which seemed to seat a Cimmerian warrior, an Aquilonian, a Hyrkanian and a Kithari woman, with the entrancing dancer he'd been watching all night swaying nearby. Still counting the coins in the purse, Daud watched the Hyrkanian speak in tense, clipped terms to a Stygian, who then stalked over to a group of three newcomers.<br/><br/><em>Maybe trouble.</em><br/><br/>Nine... ten. Ten silver coins, thirty coppers - a good yield. Daud hid the purse inside his waistband, next to the long Shemite dagger he kept at the small of his back. If there was going to be trouble, he'd need both, and a quick escape. Or protection. His gaze passed back to the massive Cimmerian, the Hyrkanian horseman and the Aquilonian combat surgeon. He realized that he recognized them - part of the same mercenary band he'd supplied during the battle.<br/><br/><em>Maybe an opportunity.</em><br/><br/>Daud stood, perhaps a little shakily, and wove his way through the crowded alehouse to the two tables. He sat on the other side of the bench by the Cimmerian and the Brythunian and gave his widest, most genial smile. "Gentlefolk. You seem like honest, reputable businessmen. I have a business proposal, if you will hear it." He pulled his green eyes away from Mira to look Cormac dead in the eyes. "It involves danger. Excitement. Silver. Maybe even gold. Are you interested?"