Chewing on a sprig of grass the Phandalin born farmer in his work clothes and wide brimmed hat definitely looked a bit out of place in the big city, certainly no place a farmer could plant his crops. However it wasn't like the people of Neverwinter could farm their own fields, so if he was able to help feed the masses by Chauntea he would. [color=a2d39c]"Cor blimey,"[/color] he said pulling at the reigns of the mule pulling the cart around a bend in view of the stables [color=a2d39c]"Millet, whoa slow yer self whoa!"[/color] thankfully his mule listened just stopping in front of the stable doors. 

Berrin patted the mules rear from the coach seat before turning to look at the woman leaning against the large double doors to the stables [color=a2d39c]"Ya'll the help that there Gray fella got?"[/color] sounding a bit skeptical the farmer pushed his hat back leaning over to squint at Zelana before shrugging [color=a2d39c]"Blimey better'n no one I guess, what's yer name lady?"[/color]