“You’re from the swamp.”
He doesn’t seem to be asking for clarification, just making clear he knows it.
“Yeah. What about it?”
“We want two barrels filled with the mud the purple wood grows in.”
“You mean the swamp muck, or…”
“The muddy ground at the bottom, where the trees take root.”
That’s what you were worried about. You turn to Rider.
“Can we manage that?”
“Not easily, but it’s possible,” Rider says. “But the Council would have to approve such an endeavor.”
“And they’re not going to just because these guys helped us out with a ridiculous plan.”
“Most likely not, no. However, if your group were to make an offer of formal alliance in exchange for access to the mud, that would be another matter.”
A formal alliance with these guys? Well, it’s not that strange, you suppose.
“I cannot agree. The Protectors of Life are an independent force – we do not make permanent alliances, not even with the Church of Reth.”
Huh. That’s interesting. Not that you know what to make of it. Or of the fact they want the mud, for that matter.
If only you could think of some way to get beyond this impasse.
Get a middle man to form an alliance. Hey, maybe YOU can be the middle man, Rider.
Ask what they want the mud for