Nodding in agreement, the old man turned and entered the shop of Galvin Whitehair.
Moments later the dour-faced, hulking form of the craftsman followed the monk out of the shop and quickly inspected the heavy load on our cart. The traditional round of negotiations over the proper price of the wood was conducted. Not unsurprisingly I watched the old Niscian as he haggled for a proper sum of money with deft humor. By time the haggling was finished, there was a pleased smile on the towering armorer as he counted out the correct change and dropped each coin, one by one, into Fairhands’s hand. The suggestion of a smile on the old man’s lips spoke volumes to me. Galvin Whitehair had purchased our goods at twice the going rate.
Silently I used my Inner Eye to feel the Netherworld around us for
