Caraduck Thorpe, chandler's page

Posh perks up and thinks back to the woods as Zokon mentions the crossbow.

"Yes, I better get one." he states this as he looks around for what coins he might have.

"Looking for a crossbow? Something for a man of your stature? Sure I can fix you up." Caraduck says smiling.

If you are going to buy a crossbow from the candlestick-maker, you have to wait a day for delivery.

Ignoring all attempts at duplicity and intimidation the crowd pays enough attention to the gnome comic for the The sour-faced halfling matrons previously staring daggers into Scarlet to turn their collective gorgon's gaze on Posh after first shielding the ears of any halfling youngster under the age of 30 even if they are not related by blood.

There's a brief scuffle at the head of the line, and more aged produce projectiles. After that a undulating wave ripples back through the crowd and then suddenly is scatters. Many halflings shouting and chattering among themselves in their strange, ancient tongue that uses too many of the letters that most other languages would just as soon leave out (including a great number of Ws and Ys). Yes, Welsh!

An older halfling with a hat much like Numalar's, its brim and top festooned in partially melted candles picks himself off the patio floor and dusts himself off smiling: "Well! That's that I suppose."

Smiling, he calls up to Zokon. "Sorry, but we seem to be all out of cloths pins, potpourri and scented candles. Could I interest you in something else? Fresh cauliflower perhaps?"

He dusts the vegetable off and holds it out for inspection.