The Meeting at Deepnight

"Dudes! I can totally handle the tracking pin."

As instructed, you take off for the northern outskirts of Phlan. You keep a brisk, yet non-alarming pace and soon enough, after twenty or so minutes, you spot the appointed meeting place - an old abandoned barn.

The barn itself is a simple, open structure, 30 feet wide and 80 feet long. A ladder at the end of the barn opposite the open doorway leads to a hay loft 10 feet above the barn floor. The loft is 40 feet long and the entire width of the barn, directly above the end of the barn opposite the door. There are some rusted farm implements leaning against the barn walls and a few burlap sacks in a heap by the wall near the ladder, opposite the main entrance.

Entering the barn, you see a fugly looking guy that matches the description the Harper gave you of the seller, accompanied by two goons, that you assume to be his bodyguards. He turns and smiles at his two goons;

"I told you they would come. A dragon egg is much too valuable to pass up."
The fuggler* turns back to you.
"Now, let’s do this quickly. Here is what you asked for."
He holds a very large hide backpack toward you.
"You throw the payment over to me, and we will leave the egg here. We will exit the barn, and then you can leave after five minutes have passed. No fuss, no muss."
He pauses and looks at you more closely. "Hold on. Something is not right here."

*Fuggler: a fugly smuggler.

"Good name for a band" comments Jiiimmmiii casually although his heart is beating like a quickling drummer.

"What's killin' your chill, duide? What's not right here?"

"I'm quite positive that the half-orc I'm supposed to be meeting tonight is supposed be wearing big silver earrings..."

The Seller and his goons appear to be more tense now. One of the goons taps the Seller on the shoulder and whispers something to him

"Right, right; they supposed to have a Dalelandian accent as well. Go ahead, speak up; I need to check something. Then we'll talk business."

Jim Lad laughs uproariously.

"Hang on, buddy. Let's not be hasty. This cat's just a little behind the times.

Big silver earrings? Dalelandian accent?

Dude! Where have you been?! This ain't the Year of the Star Walker's Return, this is the Year of the Purple Dragons, man!

Big silver earrings and Dalelandian, ha!

That Northern Glam Rock is dead as Mystryl. We don't do that no more. Ya feel me?"

Jim Lad extends his hands towards Mor.

"This, my friend, is prime cut of Greenskin Power Rock. Axes and attitude, man!

But if you're into the Dalelandian glam rock classics..."

Jim Lad strums his lute,

"♫ Ah move like cat, charge like ram
Sting like bee, luv, ah wanna be tha fella, 'ey up!
Well, plain t' see tha' were meant f'r me, aye
Ah'm tha lad, tha 15th century lad
Aye! ♫"

Jim Lad brushes the hair out of his eyes.

"Dalelandian glam enough for you, my man?"

Colonel Jim points at Mor.

"The talent don't speak much, my man. That power rock grinds on the pipes.

But Madame d'Slash might grace you with a few words."

The fugly seller looks at you for a minute in silence and then he says:
"Y'er probably right. And you seem to be well-versed in the latest fashion and music trends. i don't have time to follow such things. A'ight, let's get through with the trade then. No fuss, no muss; I promise."

He took a few steps forward and said: "Come on, step up; only one though. The diamonds for the egg. Clean and quick trade." He flashed them with what supposed to be a sincere smile - something he clearly wasn't used to as he momentarily loosen up the big pouch he was holding with one hand and showed the party the dragon egg.

JH holds up a hand towards Mor.

"Wait a second, Madame d'Slash"

He turns back to the seller, and plays a little riff on the lute for inspiration before slinging it onto his back.

"Dude! You don't follow such things?!

You're a natural! You got a look built for Greenskin Power Rock, ya feel me?"

JH turns to Mor and Ed for their agreement.

"He has right? Dude could pass himself off as Orcy Gobspawn, right?"

JH starts removing some of his costume's accoutrements and approaches the seller.

"Dude!

With your looks? You should have maidens fawning at your feet... some of the fellas too.

You just need to add some finishing touches. Rough your hair up, dude. That's it. Shake it out. Turn your collar up. Give it some attitude, yeah. Rockin' that look, dude.

Dude - you are goin' to get so much lovin' with this new look. We just need a bit of tinsel to finish the look."

JH shows the bits of costume jewellery in his hands (including the pin).

"No weapons, dude. I'm just here to make you fabulous."

JH starts pinning the items to the seller.

"That's it, man. Confidence. You are confidence. See this jewellery? That ain't jewellery - these are your magnets, dude - because that's what you have. Animal magnetism. You feel it? You feel it. You know you do."

JH steps back to admire his work. The seller's still fugly, but now he's fugly with spikey hair, an upturned collar, and some cheap tin jewellery. Oh well.

"Yeah, man! Now scowl. You got it. You got it. You are now the sex god of rock and roll, dude."

JH makes the sign of the horns,

"Count Bard von Rockavich, the dark lord of the night - we salute thee!"

"Count Bard von Rockavich - That's a good stage name" JH thinks to himself.

JH extends a fist to the seller for a bump.

"C'mon dude. Don't leave me hanging."