bark of an old stump, when I noticed a metallic gleam through a crack in its bark: Thank Mother Azura - I found an enchanted battleaxe in a concealed hollow within!
Fargoth must have put a good word in for me with Arrille, because he didn't bat an eye when I told him I stole the axe from the smugglers in the cave, and he even purchased the plants and fungi I had gathered. Not good a word enough, however, as Arrille refused to budge on the price of a mortar and pestle - 100 coins! I settled for a bedroll, a bottle with a stopper, this journal, and a stick of graphite, a hatchet, a helmet that matches the style of the
guard here (pawned, I bet. Perhaps gambling debts), and some meager arms: a sword (which I actually remember how to use, thankfully) crude shield, bow, and a bundle of arrows. If I cannot offer potions or healing to assailants, now I can at least offer a good fight. Arrille offered the Traveler's Guide to Vvardenfell, which I referenced earlier, to perhaps bandage my wounded feelings after he refused me the mortar and pestle. Just crude stone! 100 coins, my ears.
I intend to leave before tomorrow evening - a business license displayed openly by the bar upstairs in Arrille's corner club reports that he is obligated to report to the