“Like I said, just in town for the ball,” Breaker chuckled. Either the giant was hard of hearing, or the man's constitution did not match his frame. “My date wasn't feeling well this evening so I decided to have a drink while she gets some sleep.” He swirled his next mouthful of scotch around in his mouth, enjoying the warming sensation in his mouth and the distinct flavors on his tongue.

“I'm a prizefighter and martial arts instructor by trade,” he said, “but what you do sounds far more interesting. Do you have much experience infusing metals with magic or say... fusing a pair of bracers to a man's arms?”

Josh was thinking of Flint Skovik, the boulder-shouldered Salvic native he'd faced in Sei Orlouge's cell. The man had worn a pair of heavy vambraces that clicked and whirred with alchemic integrity. Breaker had always wanted to understand what had gone into the construction of such devices.

“Depending on the kind of knick knacks we're talking about,” he continued, “I may be able to bring some business your way.”