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Status: Alive
Race: Dwarf
Gender: Male
Location: Darkling Wood (Ranik Map 68a)

Mhar is the gem buyer in Blackthorn Canyon (68a).


You see a grizzled old Dwarf who glares back at you with cold blue eyes set over a bulbous raspberry-red nose. His eyes fixed and incredulous, he shifts a splintered toothpick around his mostly toothless mouth. The white linen shirt he wears is soiled nearly as dark as his soot-black trousers and cuffed thigh boots. From his pocketed leather vest dangles a battered jeweler's loupe on a long gold chain.


  • About himself:
Mhar snorts and then growls, "I'm either da Dwarf what's gonna buy yer gems or I ain't. If ya got some, let's see dem. If not, get yer hide outta my tent and go get some!"
Mhar shakes his head and growls, "Dat ol' Ranger's been in my canyon almost as long as I have, and dey reward him by lettin' him sit on a pile of naphtha. Dem knights are nuttier dan ol' Quentin!"
Mhar nods slowly, "Well if ya ain't workin' for him, ya should be. 'Course, if ya ain't a Ranger or a Paladin, he ain't got much use for ya."
Mhar grins toothlessly, letting the toothpick in his mouth dangle from his lower lip. "Dat tree-smoocher's okay by me. Ol' Mhar and him share a jug of whiskey now and again. Dat dog's seen a lot of my canyon, he has."
Sneering, Mhar says, "Dat Elf is so soft ya might think he ain't got a bone in his body. Worthless waste of skin and air, I tells ya. He's just da sort what let Morganae's Arm fall -- too much polishin' armor and tuggin' on his mama's apron strings."
Mhar sneers and clenches a dirty hand into a fist that he shakes in the air as he speaks. "Dem Halfings are parasites in my canyon. Only reason dey still here is dey sell to da knights. Dat weasel comes for coin and runs scared when dere's trouble! He knows best to stay away from ol' Mhar or I'll skin him for a gem pouch!" Mhar snorts and growls before settling down again.
Mhar snatches the toothpick from an explosive grin. "Now dat's one old dog I'm glad to have in my canyon. Find me a mage what can turn all dem tin-can Paladins into ale-makin' cave Rangers and I'll tilt one back with ya!"
Mhar rubs his beard and says with a chortle, "Dat ol' woman up dere at da Reach, she ain't right in da head, ya know?" He leans in close and quietly says, "Ya gotta watch out for dems what's a little nuts, aye? Ol' Mhar does his best to keep dems outta his canyon, but da crazies sometimes dey sneaks in. As for dat ol' lady, I'm thinkin' all dems kids can't be her doin', ya know? Gotta come from somewheres else." Mhar leans back and gives you a quick wink.
Mhar abruptly yanks the toothpick from his mouth and points it at you, growling, "Dem fork-tongued dragon freaks left dat thing in my canyon and ain't anyone been able to get rid of it. And it ain't some horde o'trolls or somethin' ya just keep bashin' til dey stops twitchin' either. Ya gotta be smart with it 'cause it's smarter dan you and dat's for sure!"
Mhar's toothless sneer widens into what could be interpreted as a crooked smile. "Ahhh so ya want to know about my canyon, do ya?" Mhar nods and continues, "Dis place made dat shiny city up north and others, too. Dis is where dem Ilithi emeralds come from and dey got up out da ground by my folks' hands." Mhar frowns deeply and his toothpick droops to touch his bearded chin. "If dem rotten-scaled dragon freaks didn't put dat Hand in my canyon, we'd have dug new mines! But it's all gone now..." Mhar shakes his head and strokes his beard in thought. "Gonna take a long time, but if I live long enough I'm gonna buy dem all back. Every one of dem rocks dey took from us. Hey, ya didn't find any, did ya?"
Mhar makes a dismissive hissing sound through his lips and grumbles, "As long as dey keep dat Hand offa dis here tent dey can stay in my canyon." He leans in toward you and says in a stern, serious tone, "It's me what says who stays and who goes 'round here. It's MY CANYON!"
Mhar cocks his head and looks at you sideways for a moment while shifting his toothpick around his mouth, "Bah! Ya got any fairy dust? Dat's got as much substance as dat Shadow Clan business, I tells ya. Ain't nothin' survive out in da Hand, nothin'! Certainly no tin-can Paladins or tree-smoochin' Rangers, dat's a sure thing!"