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“Wait,” you say, even as you produce the tablets that you brought along. “How do I know that you're goin' to pay the right price for 'em, or that you're goin' to pay at all?” You do your best to imitate the tribal accent of the Voss. If you're playing the part of Phanuhl, tribal chieftain, then you should try and sound convincing.
“<span class="mu-s">A COMMAND HAS BEEN ISSUED. INPUT MATERIALS.</span>” When you do not comply, the robed figure on the screen buries its face in its palm and lets out a sigh, the sound distorted into an electronic crackle by whatever is modulating its voice. “<span class="mu-s">PUT THE THINGS INTO THE BOX. I WILL TAKE THE THINGS FROM THE BOX AND SEE WHAT THEY ARE WORTH. I WILL PUT MONEY EQUAL TO THE WORTH OF THE THINGS INTO THE BOX. YOU WILL TAKE THE MONEY FROM THE BOX AND LEAVE. CAN YOUR NEANDERTHAL BRAIN UNDERSTAND THAT? YES? GOOD. NOW INPUT MATERIALS.</span>”
One of the Hellvetics standing guard can't help but chuckle at the Chronicler's reaction. You're a little less amused. Karlee told you to play along and do whatever they asked but you're not sure if you want to any more.
>Do as you're told. You're playing the part of a primitive, you should get used to be looking down upon by the more civilised organisations.
>Force the Chronicler to haggle. Hand over one tablet at a time and see how many drafts you can demand from him in exchange for the rest.
>Curse at him and give him nothing. You'll just have to get your drafts from other traders instead. Give him a taste of his own disrespect.
>Prove that you're not as stupid as he thinks – or at least, your shaman isn't. Give Jurvaz the chance to shine and show off his technical prowess to the Chronicler.
>URGE: Ask for his sympathy – you need the drafts for medicine. You doubt that he would normally take pity but you have memes to back you up.
>URGE: Exaggerate your ignorance and ask for the Chronicler to enlighten you. Who knows what sort of knowledge you will be able to acquire from the technophile?
