The Avondale Market is lively today, as nationalities of all sorts banter, bicker and barter. You see great arrays of colors splashed across the crowd from their many exotic garments. Cheers and jeers of gambling games rise up from somewhere to your left. A large Minotaur pushes past you, then disappears into the crowd. The day is warm for this time of year, and aromas of freshly baked breads and pastries fill your nostrils. As you take it all in you suddenly hear a shout from ahead,
“Thief! Thief! Pickpocket! That way! Guards, guards!”
The crowd ahead splits suddenly as a small figure, about the size of a ten year old human girl, swiftly darts in your direction. Her red, glistening mane of razor sharp hair alerts you that she’s not a child, but instead a kwilum! She stops right in front of you and looks into the pouch.
Disappointedly, she says,
“Eh, it’s not what I’m looking for” and drops the pouch at your feet, before deftly disappearing into the crowd.