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Brandoril cocked an eyebrow at Gives-Out-Shadow, then turned back to Dal. "Either way, it would be my pleasure to travel with you. My name is Brandoril Dralor. And you, Sera Orsimer?" He look at the Argonian. "Will you be traveling with us as well, friend?"

"I am called Dal," the Orc said, "And I will go where I am needed or wanted."

Never in his life had he had so many people who were accepting of him and his race. Dal felt his eyes well up in joy. He didn't say anything further, but turned back to the shop counter and waited for the owner to appear, hoping he could make his purchases and exit the shop before breaking down in tears.

"I might." Gives-Out-Shadow stated, his inky black hand raised, two fingers rubbed together like oil. "If there is enough coin for it."

A moment later, an equally short-of-stature Bosmer appeared, a pair of crescent-lensed spectacles perched on his nose.

"Customers!" he cried, almost dropping the armful of potions he was carrying with excitement. He cleared his throat quietly, and seemed to draw himself up a bit taller. "Ahem...Sirs, madame, welcome to Ye Olde Magicke Shoppe. All of your spellcasting, alchemical, and enchanting needs, all under one roof! What can I get you?"

Dal didn't want to be rude, but he couldn't wait much more without crying. "Ward. Better heal other spell. Please." he said, taking a breath between each phrase.

"Just one spell tome for Flames, please," Adrianne said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a coin purse filled with 50 Septims.

Brandoril stepped to the side to get out of their way. He leaned over the counter and smiled at Wylandriah.

Gives-Out-Shadow looked at the bosmer. "Fireball, and maybe a basic ward.." he muttered. "Or Paralyse if you have it.."

Bylandrioth nodded shortly and trotted off down one of the aisles, muttering to himself all the while. He returned a few moments later, the potions discarded and a stack of books in their place.

He began to set the tomes out on the counter, naming each as he went. "Flames, Lesser Ward, Greater Ward, and Paralyze." His eyes flitted to Dal. "Master Orc, the only spell of the sort you're after is Grand Healing, but I suspect it's rather out of your price range, if you don't mind me saying. If you're interested, I can find you a copy."

Gives-Out-Shadow nodded, "how much for my spell?" he asked seriously.

Ra'zhar needed nothing, and waited for the others so they could head out.

"How much is it?" Dal asked. He also eyed the Greater Ward tome.

"Fifty gold for the Flames, one hundred for the Lesser Ward, two hundred and fifty for the Greater Ward and Paralyze, and five hundred for the Grand Healing," Bylandrioth recited. "Will this be one purchase, or separate?"

Dal looked at his coin purse and found himself lacking. He decided he might look for an alchemist and buy a few more healing potions. "Thank you, but you were right. Too expensive." He lowered his head and began to exit the shop.

"Shall we get some food, then, Wylandriah?", Brandoril asked.

"Sir!" called Bylandrioth to Dal's retreating back. "Sir Orc! Come back a moment, if you please!"

...

Wylandriah looked confused. "I thought we were going to talk about my experiments..."

Dal stopped and slowly turned. He walked back up to the counter thinking he hadn't spoken loud enough. He spoke as clearly as he could, "I'm sorry, but I don't have enough money to buy anything I don't already know, but thank you."

The elf frowned. "I don't like to see a customer leave dissatisfied, no siree. How much do you have?"

"I have 200 gold," Dal said truthfully.

Bylandrioth slid the Greater Ward spelltome across to the Orc. "Done."