<strong>Lymsa's Cove<br/>Merchant<br/>Ry</strong><br/><hr/>The old man scowled as Ry called him out on his wares. He was prepared to defend his lie to the end, calling his bluff. He opened his mouth to protest at Ry, who seemed intent on bullying him. Cut short by the slamming of the metal pieces on his table, the man took a glance around his little stall. The looks of many pierced both of them, wondering what the fuss was about. If all of them decided to investigate his 'goods', he would be out of business faster than the Tempest could suck up a ship and send it flying into the sky.<br/><br/>The man's scowl turned into a toothy grin faster than lightning, and as fake as the swords he sold.<br/><br/>"Deal, my friend!" He laughed loudly, looking around at his other customers. "A fine eye indeed!" He pocketed the trinkets Ry slammed onto the table, muttering under his breath. That was a close one. He couldn't sucker this guy, but at least he still got something for that worthless piece of shit paper he had laying around. That thing was blank for crying out loud! What possessed this man to buy it from him, he would never know.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><em>Item:</em> [Enchanted Map] – A seemingly blank piece of paper. Those who have a knack for the arcane are able to see a map that updates itself periodically.</span><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><strong>Lymsa's Cove<br/>Treasure Tavern<br/>Madison, Farren</strong><br/><hr/>The fat man of the Tavern didn't know if he should be counting his blessings, or cursing the young man that had stormed in and taken over the kitchen. He was running twice as hard as before, fetching this, washing that, bringing this for the idiot. The man didn't know if he knew what he was doing, or what the fuck he was cooking, but it spoke volumes to just how desperate he was. Before long, he could smell the scent of food, actual food, wafting from his kitchen. For once in his career of owning the tavern, there might be real food coming out of there. The line of angry drunkards had subsided as the tavern was forced to bring out free ale, much to the disdain of the owner. Though free ale was better than dealing with a boatload of angry men. After a frantic half an hour, things seemed to be settling down. People were actually enjoying their food? It was practically a miracle. Perhaps that whore of a waitress running out on him was for the better after all.<br/><br/>As the rush settled down, another young man wandered into the Tavern demanding a free stay. Normally the owner would have chased him out with all the cusswords in Lymsa, but he had been exhausted for tonight. His mood was improving a little, as his problems cleared up, so he did the impossible- let it slide. He nodded to his wife, who spoke with Farren.<br/><br/>"Um, yes, of course," she stammered, knowing of no such agreement. The man had probably be tricked, as was common in this cesspool of a town. Surprisingly, her husband had given her the okay. "There should be a room free upstairs," she managed to finish, still in a state of bewilderment as she handed Farren a key. The rooms upstairs were barren, with just a bed, a small table, and a basin with some water drawn up. The tiny rooms smelled of sex and mold, with the blankets in a state that left one better off not knowing. Truly the treasure of Lymsa's Cove.