Sneaking into Broken Sellsword's Canyon was relatively easy thanks to Shanks and his merchant caravan. The troll had procured all the necessary documents in advance and he knew all the right people to grease.
Case in point, when it was our turn to be inspected by the dwarven guards in their orange tabards embroidered with the broken sword insignia, Shanks smooth-talked his way into getting four unlisted members of his caravan a pass into the city.
"Always appreciate doing business with you, Smithers," Shanks said, his voice an octave higher than his fallen brother.
One hand was raised to high-five the dwarf while the other hand was dropping a few Leprechauns onto the dwarf's open palm.
"These friends of yours better not cause any trouble, Shanks," the dwarf answered gruffly.
"They'll answer to me if they do," shanks growled right before he glanced toward me and winked.
