PC: "Crimmor's filled to the lip with goblin bashers. Heard any bone boxes rattlin'?"
NPC: "Some flesh tinker on about a Talisman. But really, any prime score turns up, the Cowled Wizards are going to make it their ken. And you know the flash tellers get what they want."
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NPC: "Two guardswords at the Alandor Gate is new. Don't know the score yet, might even be culls. Give 'em an oration on account a more beneficial arrangement. Here be some yellow tin ta make amends."
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NPC: "Been havin' a disputed point recently. A cove and his mot that I puzzled are Harpers came to Crimmor. Been givin' me tha skip when I drag 'em lookin' fer their dive. Puzzle their dive and lead 'em out. Keep it smooth, no need ta have a chat with 'em."
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Ah the joys of thieves cant, Planar cant, and a good old thesaurus.
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