John felt grateful that Nevin caught his meaning. Subterfuge was not his strongest suit, one among many of his not-strong suits, he thought. Nevin began to talk about carrying what the other guild merchants did not, and John puffed on his cigar, a little proud that despite his apparently ‘brutish’ nature, (Jamie had referred to him that way repeatedly, though always with that playful smirk on her face) that he had been subtle and tactful in getting the blood mage to engage his craft. His brain caught the tail end of what Nevin said as he turned from the door where he had flipped a sign.

“-ending too soon perhaps?”

John arched one eyebrow high as the alchemist passed him, returning to his counter. He stifled the unintentional motion as he sat behind it though. Nevin continued, talking of things that would have lit a younger John Cromwell’s cheeks like two glowing coals. As it stood, it flushed him a little anyways. He continued talking, and John would have laughed outright if it wasn’t so embarrassing. Nevin thought that he was having issues...there? Ridiculous! Unthinkable!

...it was, wasn’t it?

He put it out of his head that nothing significant had gone on between himself and Jamie since he met her, at least nothing significant in the way that Nevin meant. Not that that was a bad thing, you see. And besides, they really hadn’t known each other that long anyways. Confident again, John drew from the cigar again, trying to avoid embarrassing both of them more than they would be in a moment. Time for some of that brutishness I suppose. He spoke, turning a scarred forearm up and clenching his fist. The harder, desensitized flesh snaked up his forearm in tendrils, like fire had run in his veins once.

“I need magic, Nevin. Real blood magic. Cromwell has lived for generations, each one forgetting more than the last. I hear you can shed light on my bloodline. People say Cromwell has the blood of giants, some legends say the first Cromwell was Thaynespawn. All I know is that I want to know what I am.”

He didn’t really mean to go into so much detail, didn’t mean to go into any detail at all, but the issue had gnawed at his mind so much that it came out all in a bit of a rush. He bit down on his cigar, feeling the leaf crumple between his teeth. His ancestors probably never had to explain that they weren’t here to buy a potion for the bedroom.

“Coin is no problem for me, Nevin.”

It was true. Business was good recently, what with a section of the business district lying in ruins, what hadn’t been rebuilt already. Truth be told a blacksmith could make a fortune if he could turn a bar of metal into nails fast enough in Radasanth lately. All of this left extra coin in his pocket and trunk, a pouch of which he brought to the alchemist’s shop. He snatched the pouch and held it in his other hand, the fist still outstretched.