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Brendan smiles smugly at the notice he has just pinned upon the town wall, his throbbing thumb, testament to both the effort he put into his best writing, and to where he hit his thumb with the hammer.

Dearest citizens of Troll's Bane, Greenbriar and Silverbrand and the outlying monasteries, elven settlements and so forth,

Due to Mishrack's workload, he has give unto me the most prestigous of positions! I am to be the chief shopkeeper in the Troll's Bane Silverstar Shop (Brendan beams proudly at this), while he works his ample beard off opening the Northerot shop.

I have a plethora of goods for sale, manufactured by Mishrack, myself and several other of our suppliers. So please, visit me in the shop and buy our produce! Don't worry about our opening times, as I intend to employ a crier, to announce our opening hours, and I, myself will be about town telling you where to buy your pantaloons and crossbows.


Yours,

Brendan Mason,
Silverstar Merchant.

A lizardman with gray scales and yellow eyes come closer to the notice pinned up to the town wall. His eyes rolls over the writings on the paper. He blinks vertically

Sssurely you are doing a good job...

Then the lizardman looks to his armor. The armor shines

I hope you liked my ssshown of gratitude, hobbit...

The lizardman just nods silently and take back his way