The Scorchkraken shifted again.
Its scaled arms coiled tighter around the hull.
"You there.
Merchant.
What is your name?"
The Dwarrow jolted when Ben addressed him.
He almost dropped the ledger he had been clutching like a lifeline.
"I… yes!
Of course, my lord!" he stammered.
He scrambled to the edge of the boat and bowed so deep his forehead nearly touched the scorched wood.
"Name's Barrek, sir.
Barrek Flintbraid of Emberreach.
Trader of ores, dried provisions, and…" He glanced nervously at the Scorchkraken, which let out a curious burble. "Beast-handling contracts as well."
He straightened.
His eyes were wide with admiration and barely contained hope.
"I heard the city had a new lord, but I never imagined… stars above, you faced those Gravenhold bastards like they were nothing!"
Barrek pounded a fist against his chest.
His voice grew more passionate with each word.
"If Krahal-Zir is really rising again, then let me be the first to pledge my stock.
