Ewan ap Rhys... Ewan ap Rhys... Why did that name sound so familiar? Tathfheithleann heard such a name spoken during her travels, somewhere around Ravensway, but she couldn't remember why the name sounded so familiar. She might give looking him up a try, maybe ask some of her old university contacts if they'd heard the name.
"I have another tome here," came Niamh's voice from a hell of a lot closer than Tathfheithleann was prepared for. "Recovered it myself, actually, in another life."
The Halfling tried to hide her startled jump by clearing her throat. She looked down at the dragonhide-bound book, authored by Wylam Tulathyl and co-authored by Armand of Traust. Now there's an interesting find. Wylam's necromancy (especially in regards to dragons) was a bit out of Tathfheithleann's wheelhouse, but such a book would be an interesting read nonetheless, and might also yield something useful besides!
"A-Ah, thank a much," Tathfheithleann said sheepishly, "I'll take both of 'em. Retired adventurer, or just got tired o' the mage life?"
"If you're done with your chores for the day why don't you give our guest's mule a good brushing, if she'd prefer?" Niamh said to Ewan, "I think she rather wants to make her purchase and get on the road."
"But-" Ewan began to protest.
"Oh- No no, no thanks, it's okay!" Tathfheithleann interjected, "He doesn't like strangers."
Uisce's disdain for strangers was of course a bold-faced lie, however Tathfheithleann wasn't about to let anyone in Zantaric near her mule, or anything on him for that matter. Despite the wards and illusions all over Uisce's pannier bags, she was not about to take any chances. That, and if one of those protective wards triggered, whoever set it off was going to get a nasty electric shock... Tathfheithleann didn't want to cause any accidental injuries to employees of a business she planned on making deals with.
"You accept payment in currencies only, or do ya deal in trades too?" she asked Niamh.