Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

A blue bearded retired Flaming Fist Mercenary has set up a store in the docks district. He is selling various mundane goods, but most notably signet rings:
/// You get a .png image of a wax seal that you can print on a letter.
/// It is a method of identifying that you have really sent or signed a piece of paper.

"I wish to ask a question of you. Would it, in any way, be possible to commision a signet to one's favour? Of course, this person would pay a large amount for it. Thank you," the elf finishes, offering a polite smile to the seller.

'Naturally, just let me know for whom it is due, and what manner of signet they require.' [ The man smiles back. ]

"I would like to enquire about the likelihood of producing a signet that has The Coronal of Arvandor's seal on it. It is for me, naturally," the elf remarks. "Would that be possible?"

// OOC:

Corellon's symbol.
http://forgottenrealms.wikia.com/wiki/Corellon

It's a star of somesort? [ The man rubs his brow. ] Is there anything else you would like to have on it?

"I would simply wish the crescent upon it, coupled with our Creator's name along the bottom," the female elf replies politely.

A grubby and dour looking dwarf saddles up to the table, "So yer takin' commissions, eh?" His eyes narrow skeptically, "How much extra ta keep yer trap shut about me farkin' order den bub? Er ya still knees bent fer da farkin' Fists?"

The dwarf pinches a single nostril and fires a green gob onto a loose sheet of parchment from the other, "Er do I have ta keep signin' like dis?"

[ Mr. Shade hands the elf a piece of parchment, a feather and a tiny bottle of ink. ] 'Could you be a dear and write it down.' [ He points at the chair and table that are nearby, before turning towards the dwarf. ]

/// In otherwords, is there a specific font you want the name written in?

[ Mr. Shade looks at the green knob of nasal mucus, before quickly reaching his hands behind the dwarf's head and slamming the hard dwarven forehead at the green knob, causing the desk creak and complain. ] 'No, you are not required to use your forehead. I can make you a ring that you can press against some candle wax or your little green gobs.' 'I charge fifty pieces gold, (5 000), and as for questions about them Fists - sodding clueless adventurer - every tenth person or so that you see on the streets is either a member of the Fist or a watch agent.' 'Suffice to say, you've been seen entering the store and if you walk out with a signet ring, it is not too hard to add one to one.' [ Mr. Shade's face twists into a Fiendish smile. ]

Delphinn wanders by Mr. Shade's set-up, and casually inspects the wax seals.

"You're selling these, right here?"

Delphinn points to the four presented at the start of the thread.

[ A quick reply to Delphin. ] 'The word is sold, first one went to Bentley Mirroshade, the second to some red haired lass, and the last two were according to the dukes' claim.'

/// Passiflora asked for Flaming Fist wax seal, not too long ago.

Simian Approbatur wrote:[ Mr. Shade hands the elf a piece of parchment, a feather and a tiny bottle of ink. ] 'Could you be a dear and write it down.' [ He points at the chair and table that are nearby, before turning towards the dwarf. ]

/// In otherwords, is there a specific font you want the name written in?

[ Mr. Shade looks at the green knob of nasal mucus, before quickly reaching his hands behind the dwarf's head and slamming the hard dwarven forehead at the green knob, causing the desk creak and complain. ] 'No, you are not required to use your forehead. I can make you a ring that you can press against some candle wax or your little green gobs.' 'I charge fifty pieces gold, (5 000), and as for questions about them Fists - sodding clueless adventurer - every tenth person or so that you see on the streets is either a member of the Fist or a watch agent.' 'Suffice to say, you've been seen entering the store and if you walk out with a signet ring, it is not too hard to add one to one.' [ Mr. Shade's face twists into a Fiendish smile. ]

The elf nods quickly, accepting such items she's given. She makes her way over to the nearest table-top, slowly dipping the feather into the ink well. She begins to write slowly, and her hand-writing elegant.

"Corellon."

'Do not forget to write down your name aswell. I need to know it for you to come pick it up.'

"Ah, yes," she says embarrassedly, quickly scribbling down her name on the parchment:

'Silias Ry'ena', it says in black ink.

"Ya answered me question bub. Ya answered me question." He peels the parchment from his forehead. He doesn't look any dirtier and his skull doesn't seem to bother him. The grease from his hair is still on your hands. "Three lifetimes of headbuttin'." He grins. A miserable yellow and broken grin. "And yer right, tis me signature. Ya know the heart of all good men sir."

The dwarf backs out of the shop and from the main-fare, for all to hear: "Was polite a me ta use a hankie 'fore! But ya ain't no respectable merchant!!" and the dwarf bullets a deep-chested and tobacco-chew-infested hork on the shop's window -- and is gone.

[ The man takes the piece of parchment from the elf. ] 'Everything should be done in a week or so, come with the money and you will have the ring.'