[div style="width: 48%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]Zjarr had heard of this place all but on one occasion, and he understood it to be a much smaller place than the other primary clans that dominated the Island. These Night Spades folk sure weren't around in his time, and he didn't expect to be recognized or to find an old friend here (then again, the same could be said for any group these days). Regardless, there was no point in ignoring the group altogether when potential customers could be found here, and he was a man of business and action.

Confident pawsteps led the military cap-toting Siberian husky to the plains of the uncharted lands, a place surprisingly not far from his own secluded Ignibus Forge. In the distance lay towering mountains with woodlands close by, and he figured that it wouldn't be long before he entered Night Spades' territory. He situated himself just beside their forest, reluctant to march straight into their camp uninvited and unannounced. He liked having his head attached to the rest of his body, after all. Once he found a comfortable position, the demon got to work, sliding his satchel off his muscular body and carefully spreading out his wares. He wasn't sure if these folk were aggressive or not, but if they needed a piece to defend themselves with, he sure as hell had plenty to trade.

// here is his inventory!!

[div style="width: 48%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]He was pleasantly surprised by the promptness of the Night Spades denizens, spotting the figure of a winged leopard approaching him, though he hadn't known that their interaction was merely by chance of her patrol. Zjarr had perfected his businesslike etiquette, but at the end of the day, his patience was easily tested, and he was pleased to not have reached his limits now. "Setting up shop?" the stranger had asked him, and he nodded in reply. "Yes, ma'am. Only my finest," he drawled with a wide, warm grin as he watched the feline survey his wares. She exuded light — icy blue coloration and wings upon her white pelt, rich golden eyes, dangerous saber fangs, and a certain air about her that he could not quite describe yet.

She was intriguing. Pretty, even.

He would reserve any further comment when an abrupt sneeze announced the introduction of a wolf, and the husky turned to the other. "What, you allergic to her or sum'n?" he jested with an amused snort at the wolf's words. Sure, he had been irritated by people, but he damn well knew he never sneezed because of it. These are some eccentric folk. "M'name is Zjarr Ignibus, 'n' I come to y'all on behalf of the Ignibus Arms Company. These're the blades I've forged myself — I assure ya, they'll cut 'n' they'll last." He gestured at the weapons he had laid out before him. "You got any questions about anythin', I'll be happy to answer 'em." Zjarr knew that no one ever bought a blade blindly. Many wanted proof of their quality or simply a bit of background on what they would be receiving. In any case, he spoke confidently, sure of his capabilities to push either of the two into a successful transaction.