*left at the crone, a brief note scribbled on rat hide* First, you took my silver handaxe. I hunt the chosen in the ruins, keeping them from preying on the children of your city, I would like to have it returned. I can trade a blade of greater value, as your kind seems to put so high a price on the value of things in yellow metal.
Second, though I was not able to express it well verbally, an impediment left over from a scaleskin raid on my people long ago, I believe your gang, if that is the appropriate word, to have some skill at combat, usually a band of a few humans poses no threat to me, and I was impressed with your martial skill. I think we may have more in common then our choice of residence, and would seek you out to discuss it peacefully. Leave the scaleskin in his hole, they are untrustworthy and savage. A threat looms to all who call this stolen city home, and perhaps yours is just the group to deal with it. OF course, the spoils of such an undertaking would far outstrip the miniscule sum you extort from those you claim to protect. I tend to reside at the 'crone when I am in the city.
-Fin