Nurin gave a courtly bow as he was offered his dagger back, and snatched it, tucking it back undearneath his cloak. After retrieving his money, he makes his way out, also heading for a random shop. With only a few rude remarks and witty pranks, he manages to purchase rations for several days time, basic cleaning and cutting equipment, and several other odds and ends which he believes may be useful. Now, in one messy bundle in his arms, he makes his way for the green dragon. He Ponders on the words of that enormous man, and nods to himself - not only does the person seem a brute, but he has a wit, a common sense about him. Nurin enters the inn and makes his way to that large table, taking a seat opposite Loren, grinning at him before spreading that jumbled mass of belongings in front of him. An expression of childish delight curls onto his features as he lowers one hand, touching an index finger against a wrapping of hard biscuits and uttering "Biscuits." softly. Several seconds after he does this, that packet of biscuits compliantly fades from view, disappearing into nothingness, and his hand moves onto the next item - a wedge of yellow cheese. He utters its name and, lo and behold, it too, disappears. He continues this until all items are categorised and gone. Hmph, who needs a backpack when you can use 'pocket' dimensions - a nice, simple technique learned by one of his bretheren all those years ago. Of course, this 'ritual' would look quite odd from another persons point of view.
Once he had finished sorting his items, he obtains a bottle of red wine, pouring himself a glass before peering up at the wizened mage opposite him, finally speaking to him, "Well then, friend. I suggest we leave names until everybody else is here, so we dont have to repeat ourselves. So what brings you to this 'quest', hm? Glory? Greed? Honour? Adventure? boredom?" He trails off, and idly studies that slip of note which they were supposed to give to the barkeep whilst awaiting an answer.
