"And," said Xanos, scrutinizing the looming construct carefully, "you say this is pure mithral, yes?" He didn't try to keep the sceptical note out of his voice as he stroked his broad chin thoughtfully.

"Oh, aye, sure is." the halfling behind the counter said enthusiastically. He had to stand on several haphazardly piled spellbooks just to reach the countertop, and the robes he wore looked rather ill-fitting. "Finest mithral ye can make."

The half-orc, who had been lifting up the mammoth hand of the complacent golem to examine the worksmanship, looked up sharply, black brows drawing together. "One does not make mithral." he spat.

"O-of course not!" the halfling said, taking a hasty step backwards and nearly toppling off his stack of books. He ran a hand through his short, ginger hair and offered a wry grin. "'Course not, mate . . . what I meant ta say, is . . . it's th' finest mithral golem ye can buy . . . MADE from mithral, aye."

Xanos frowned, a truly frightening expression to behold. "What did you say your name was?"

"Ah . . . that's right . . . didn't, did I? Heh . . . Tom . . . Tom Underhill, mate." He thrust a hand over the piles of scrolls and spell components scattered on the scarred wooden surface.

Xanos didn't move. If anything, his brows narrowed further. "Xanos has been to this store before, in recent years. I have met the owner before as well, and he was not you."

The halfling -- Tom Underhill by claim -- seemed to wilt slightly. "Oh, aye? . . . yeah, well, see," he said helpfully, absently straightening his too-big robes, "he was gettin' on a bit, then, weren't he? Bit dodgy, really." He twirled a finger discreetly about his temple for emphasis. "So I offered to watch his store for 'im, like. Turn a profit whilst he got a bit of a lie down, yanno?"

Xanos said nothing before returning to study the golem. Mr Underhill began to sweat.

Scrubbing a flat fingernail over the shining surface of the golem, the half-orc frowned thoughtfully. A sliver of silver material flaked off into his palm, revealing a rough-hewn looking dark patch. The halfling had become quite absorbed in making a show of polishing the already gleaming bottles arranged by size on the shelves with the sleeve of his robe.

Abruptly, Xanos straightened.

Mr Underhill gave a small scream and knocked one of the bottles to the floor with a crash.

"Xanos is a worldly traveller," Xanos announced, "and Xanos is wise in the way of magic. Therefore, I can easily recognize quality . . . or lack thereof, especially in magical items." As he spoke, the fleck of silver paint fell from his palm to the floor.

"Oh, uh, aye?" Mr Underhill said faintly.

Xanos was silent a moment, before he finally asked the question that had been bothering him from the moment he'd stepped into the store.

"If Xanos buys one, is there a discount for multiple purchases?"