The sun was smiling upon the gates of the dwarven Capitol. It was a quiet day, as most dwarves had the plague. Normally, travelers would tend to keep their distance from affliction infested cities, but Sinan was different. Carrying the smells of rotten cheese, unwashed linen, and all other dastardly things, the shorter than normal, dark-skinned dwarf makes his entrance into the city of Kal'Akash. "Ah! Zank Yeme'karr!" The dwarf then turns, yelling a chain of commands to three fabric covered women and 5 small children "Yalla! Yalla! Bring zee packages in! Ey, sharmut! Do not break my Agile!" The garb-covered women and children carry the dwarf's trunks. He had no coin to buy a mule, but his family would suffice. Sinan smiles the sun's smile, handing out small pieces of bread to the male children. "Now, wait heere! I vill go and attend businez. Yu set ap zee tents!" As the multi colored pavilion is being set up, Sinan goes to the nearest market to purchase some food. Seeing most stalls empty, he simply takes some and leaves a price well below the items' worth. Sinan smiles the sun's smile with the radiance of a holy warrior, his teeth glinting like urine in a pot made of mirrors. Sinan laughs. "Diz businez was probababaly owned by a djew! Hah! Styubid 'edrew!" After finishing his mockery, Sinan nails a poster to the tavern door. It reads, in handwriting as fine as the dwarven army: "Salaam my Dwarven kinsmen, I have returned from my merchanting ventures and wish to find a job. If you have one, I would welcome your invitation. With slightly malicious heart, Sinan Hoxha, merchant and businessman"