Game text

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• Talon Killpeace's caravan delivers weapons and whiskey to the haven. He needs guards to protect him from the Sons of Svanir and other dangers in the area.
• Escort Talon Killpeace's caravan to Crossroads Haven.
• Pack Bull
• Pack Bull Killed
• Pack Bull Arrived at Crossroads Haven
• Revive Talon Killpeace.
• Crossroads Haven! Looks like this is where we part company, twig! I'm glad you came along.
• As am I. I can't imagine making that trip alone. This is a cold and dangerous land.
• That's why I sell things to keep you warm on a cold night. So long.
• Hey! Stick-girl! You need a job? I'm looking for some fodder, er, guards for my caravan.
• I know what fodder is, Sir Charr, being a stick-girl as you say. And I think I will decline.
• Heh! I like you. You got spunk. Come along, I'll guard you. At least as far as Crossroads Haven.
• I am headed in that direction. I accept your offer of companionship.
• Want booze or guns? I only sell them at Crossroads Haven. Want to rob me? I'll rip you a new airhole.
• Who's trying to rob you?
• What are you waiting for?
• In a little while. I've got to check the invoice and make sure the bottles are properly cushioned. Can't have any busted brews arrive to thirsty buyers, you know?
• Where's your warband? What are you doing up here in the snow?
• Maybe we can make a deal. I watch your back to the haven, you give me a cut of the sales.
• Yeah, have fun. I have something else to do.
• The Sons of Svanir like to hit traveling merchants, especially on this route. I put a couple slugs in them last time, but those freaks keep coming.
• Good for you! Maybe I'll buy something later.
• Huh, I could use another set of eyes. Yeah, sounds good. Stick close to me, pal. I'll be moving soon.
• Got it. Lead the way.
• My warband are top gunsmiths, and we're selling our wares to the norn. I got the short straw to make all deliveries.
• What about the booze?
• Selling charr weapons that could be used on the front? Disgusting!
• Let me tell you, these norn can drink. My warband has been brewing up some alcohol as a way to make some extra gold. Smells like gun oil, but it kicks like an angry dolyak.
• Okay, how about this? I help you make your delivery in exchange fora cut of the sales.
• Drinking an angry dolyak, huh? Yeah, I'll pass. Good luck.
• Don't shed your fur. We made plenty for us and the legion. These are extra, and the norn snatch them right up. We're getting the better end of the deal.
• Perhaps. Maybe I should see for myself. I could go with you, see you sell your wares to the haven.
• You better be right. If you're putting your greed before the legion, I'll skin you alive and then go after your warband.
• Those crazy Sons of Svanir are all over the haven. They'll smash my booze and refuse to pay for it! I'm waiting for them to go away.
• Good call.
• Tell me, is it always this cold here? Even the sunlight seems frozen. It's strangely beautiful, as if the world is trapped in an icy stillness.
• Recipe[s]: Satchel of Rampager's Noble Armor (Rare)
• Uh, right.
• No, this is the first time I have seen such a wonder: water iced and rendered into an endless white cloak. It's bewitching.
• Aren't you cold? You're not even wearing proper shoes!
• Why are you here?
• Yeah, enjoy the snow. Good-bye.
• I dreamed of snow, boastful warriors, and animal spirits who speak of strength and wisdom. I had to see these marvels for myself.
• Then you've come to the right place.
• I love the feel of cold snow on my feet. Just like the pines all around you, cold does not bother me.
• Huh. You're either very tough, or very strange. Or both.
• The journey here was fun, but now it's time for business. Stupid truce talks won't let me mix the two.
• Show me the booze.
• Show me the weapons.
• Best of luck to you.