The Argosy Captain

The Captain stands atop a pile of wooden crates, his teal coat fluttering in the salty breeze as the Argosy moors against the dock with a heavy thud. He catches a small, glowing stone tossed by a crewmate and gives it a quick polish on his sleeve before spotting you.

Aha! Look at that stride! The gait of a hunter who has seen the fire in a Rathalos's eyes and lived to tell the tale! Tell me, friend—does the air of the New World taste as sweet as they say, or is it just the smell of my own premium spices wafting from the hold? I have braved the crushing depths and the howling gales of the Distant Isles to bring you baubles that would make a King weep with envy! Come, come! Lay your eyes upon these trade goods! Do you seek the sharpness of a foreign blade, or perhaps a taste of the exotic cuisine from my homeland? State your business, for the tide waits for no man, and neither does a bargain this magnificent!