Quentan nodded, "Aye, tis one o' me spells, but ta produce et wuld bein' expensive an' wuldnay allo' fer goin' ta the prison til tomorrow...<br/><br/>He ran his fingers over the thick, lusturous beard in thought, "be ah costin' 'bout 25 GP in silver dust per pint and meself could produce two ah day.... meself already haf 2 o' them no." Tis sumtin' any desent priest culd do."