Sweeping the accidentally spilled coins on the floor into a few unequal piles, the Wizard’s spotty apprentice; Mouton sighs squeakily.
“That Halfling was a bit cheeky, wasn’t he? Asking for a 25% discount for that 2,000gp Ring of Protection!”
The older, mostly retired Wizard, turns creakily around with a pained expression etched onto his face.
“Please don’t use that ridiculous ‘modern’ system of yours here; just say ‘a quarter off’. Also, cheekiness is baked into their breed. You can’t blame a Halfling for their intrinsically funny nature.”
Pulling his, too long, lilac coloured robe sleeves back up over his knuckles for the umpteenth time, the apprentice Wizard raises an eyebrow.
“He didn’t seem that ‘funny’ to me and his face looked like it’d been repeatedly used as a football during his, obviously rough, childhood.”
The tall, purple clad; Nonogonagal frowns.
“True; he was ‘funny’ but just not in the usual Halfling sense and his ‘cloth’ surprisingly revealed him to be of the Druidic faith.”
Rex, the heavily armoured guard by the door, is usually a man of very few words, but he adds a few more of them now.
“They were ALL funny, but ‘funny’ in the weird sense, not funny ‘Ha Ha’.
The small owl and the tatty Raven on the counter, add their voices to the conversation. Preempting his comment with a throaty cough, the darker bird caws.
“I’ve seen weirder!”
After which, wide eyed, the small owl asks.
“Whoo?”
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