83.1

The man’s broad face has been weathered by years of strong wind, and his eyes are surrounded by a forest of wrinkles from a lifetime of squinting into the sun. He pulls his hand out of the pocket of his long coat and thrusts it forward.

He speaks with the drawl of the Messipian seafolk. “Ren Kobo’s the name,” he says. “Traveling merchant and Master of Commerce of the Sunray Flotilla, at your service. Perhaps you'd like to make a trade? If not, we can simply share the road; I see we’re traveling in the same direction.”

Clear Ren Kobo with  to trade with him.