[ "Granny has lot of nice things," the woman says, weaving through a section of taxidermied creatures with surprisingly lively eyes. "Precious things, rare things. I don't like to part with any of them, truth be told. They all have such memories."
She smiles again, ungainly, as she finds one of the few empty chairs in the room that look good enough to perch on. Her eyes shine amber in lamplight.
"So Granny likes to trade. Give a trinket, get a trinket. It helps me remember all the little birds that've flown into my nest."
Behind her is a glass-paneled wardrobe guarded comically by an iron padlock (Iorveth thinks that it would be much easier to break the glass than pick the lock, but what does he know), containing cloaks and clothing in various styles. A promising start. ]
We only have gold. Everything else we possess is what you see in front of you.
[ Arms loosely spread in the universal gesture for "what you see is what you get". The old woman laughs at that, as if it's the funniest thing she's heard all tenday.
"And isn't it nice, what I see? Would your pretty dove trade you for something in my shop?" ]
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She smiles again, ungainly, as she finds one of the few empty chairs in the room that look good enough to perch on. Her eyes shine amber in lamplight.
"So Granny likes to trade. Give a trinket, get a trinket. It helps me remember all the little birds that've flown into my nest."
Behind her is a glass-paneled wardrobe guarded comically by an iron padlock (Iorveth thinks that it would be much easier to break the glass than pick the lock, but what does he know), containing cloaks and clothing in various styles. A promising start. ]
We only have gold. Everything else we possess is what you see in front of you.
[ Arms loosely spread in the universal gesture for "what you see is what you get". The old woman laughs at that, as if it's the funniest thing she's heard all tenday.
"And isn't it nice, what I see? Would your pretty dove trade you for something in my shop?" ]