Fisk

Fisk: Hey, you're new here, ain't you? I'm Fisk, peddler of everything. Whatever you need, I'm your man.

You: About Whistler's sword ...

Fisk: Tell him he's never getting it back.

You: I found a new fence for you. A New Camper.

Fisk: Really? Well, I'll be damned. You're really puttin' in the effort, are you?

Fisk: Works with me. Who is it?

You: His name's Sharky.

Fisk: Sharky? Bloody hell, that guy is worse than Mordrag.

Fisk: Anyway, appreciate it. Don't worry about Diego - I'm not gonna trip you up.

Fisk: Hey you!

Fisk: You're the idiot who forced out Mordrag, aren't you? He was my number one supplier, for fuck's sake!

Fisk: I hope you're not planning to join our camp, because I'll be voting against you.

You: I don't give a shit.

You: Thorus said Mordrag steals from the ore barons. I wonder what he thinks of Mordrag being your supplier.

Fisk: You're threatening me? Bad idea, freshie. Bad idea.

You: Relax. I'm sure we can fix this.

Fisk: Wouldn't know how. Unless you can find me another fence from the New Camp, that is.

You: Where can I find one?

Fisk: Tsk, If I knew, I'd find him myself. I told you, if you wanna fix this, you'll have to work for it.

You: Show me your goods.

You: I'm looking for a sword. Not just a regular one - something fancy, with ornaments.

Fisk: Huh, well, then you're one lucky bastard, because I have one just like that. The Shadow who ordered it never came to pick it up.

Fisk: Just a hundred and ten nuggets and it's yours. What do you say?

You: Weren't you going to sell it for a hundred?

Fisk: Ah, wait ... right, it wasn't a hundred and ten, it was five hundred.

You: Five hundred?

Fisk: Not enough? How about a thousand, then? Works for me. Though, come to think of it, I think I'll just keep this one for myself.

You: All right, I'll take it.

Fisk: Made a good bargain there.

Fisk: How about you get the nuggs first? I'll reserve the sword for you until then. Don't be too long though.