Artimee Tateslyfe, the Procurer of Tales, known by most as Artim, approaches the seller with an easy going look of interest, in what is offered this day, and in this place.
"Good sir, good elf...what have you here? A blessed belt, a girdle no less. Not just a thing to keep the trousers up above the rear...but an artifact of holy might to let any wise faithful stay true during a test."
Artim smiles.
"This is truly something fit for the Mirari, no doubt sits in my mind...I will offer you a bid, shall you give my a moment of your time?"
Artim now chuckles, considering his own words about time to give...from an elf.
"Let me offer fifty bags of coin in this moment. And we shall see to what end this comes!"
A priestess in enameled red plate passes outside the walls of the Friendly Arm and takes note of the elf's wares.
"Well now, that girdle would well fit my needs for enhanced blessings. Plus a gal can always stand to incorporate garb with such a waist-slimming effect, eh?"
She attempts a smile, appearing somewhat awkward given here typically severe expression.
"I will pledge seventy-five bags for this fine girdle. Seek out Vyrana Ravenmoor should you deign to complete this exchange. I have currently taken up lodging in Nashkell."
The priestess continues south along the Tradeway, long crimson cape trailing behind.