Shinsou watched as the goblin took Preston’s offering of ale without a word, and swung his stubby legs back towards the bar top. There was something odd about this one – the Telgradian couldn’t exactly place what, but definitely something out of place.

“Thank you.”

The goblin turned, looking around quizzically and scratching his algae coloured cheek with a clawed finger as he almost missed Shinsou’s reproof. His blue eyes flitted left to where the Telgradian was seated, and travelled up his thin face to meet his golden eyes. A frown crossed Kablah’s face as he finally recognised where the voice had come from.

“What?”

“You meant to say thank you to this fine young gentleman. I was just helping you find your manners.” Shinsou said, taking a swig of his new ale, his hand brushing a crop of brown hair out of his eyes whilst nodding towards Preston. The goblin pressed his back down into his chair.

“Hey, he offered. I didn’t ask.” The goblin shook his head sheepishly. “I never ask. I work hard for everything.”

There was a moment’s pause before Shinsou spoke up again. “Yet, we should be grateful we receive all the same. Especially in these times.”

The goblin shrugged and sat back in his chair. “I haven’t got much to be grateful for receiving. The port saw to that. Most of my business flows through here, and now it’s gone. This ale is shit, too.”

The trio were still seated in at the bar off the main corridor, and now all sorts of clientele were walking in and out of this establishment. It was in Kablah’s interest to keep his affairs somewhat discreet, lest an interested party pick up on his loose lips, but his frustrations were being forced out. He eyed a few patrons as they got their drinks, and their girls, conduct whatever business they had to, and left without a fuss. Shinsou, meanwhile, side eyed Preston.

“Issues with the port authority eh? Bad luck.” Shinsou watched one guy walk past, his right arm full of mugs of ale and his left full of what was quite obviously a Gilded Lily whore. “Don’t have that issue much myself, trading out of Tylmerande. The Brotherhood sort me out a fair tariff and keep the ships safe.” He continued, almost chuckling at his pathetically abridged attempt to disguise himself and shamelessly plug his trade. If only it had all been that simple.

“I can’t trade down there now,” Kablah said as he took a sip of his drink. “No distribution network or buyers willing to take those rates on. I guess I’ll be looking for someone who can help me offload my timber on shore, otherwise I’ll be serving tables in one of Philomel’s brothel’s before long.”

Shinsou set his half-emptied drink down on the table, letting the warm ale swill nicely in his stomach. He dropped his voice into a whisper as he leaned over to his new goblin pal, seeing an opportunity to do a good turn. “Nothing wrong with Lady Philomel’s brothels, sir. But, if you really want to keep the business afloat, why not talk to Preston here?” The Telgradian thumbed at his drinking partner. “Onshore distribution’s his thing.”

The goblin crossed his arms on the bar and leaned forward. “What’s the catch? Why should I trust him? I don’t even know you.”

Shinsou waved him off with a smile. “You folk are always so fucking suspicious! Seriously. We’re all in this shit together, right?” The Telgradian’s eyes flashed and a smile widened as he held his hands up. “Alright, alright. Look. Of course he’ll want a slice of the action. That’s the name of the game, right? But find me a man in his line of work who won’t want to try and string you up the second you let your guard down.” The Telgradian leaned forward in kind and pointed a finger at Preston, smiling as he spun the tell. “He won’t. I’ve traded with the man for years. Trusted him with everything from bullion to buttons, and I’ve never seen a cut off the top. Every penny accounted for. All onshore. I’m not saying you’ll turn a huge profit straight away, but if you have the volume, this guy can find the demand.”

Shinsou, sipping from his mug, held his gaze tightly on the goblin. Preston was probably wondering what the fuck was going on. After all, why would the Telgradian do that for him?

After a moment, Kablah scratched his nose. A tell. He was thinking about it, weighing up his options. The little green bastard was probably halfway to giving in and going with it.

He looked at Preston suspiciously, taking a swig of ale. “I need some convincing about the kind of man you are. Come back here, tonight, 8pm. We'll see for sure then.”