Robert wished the balding metalsmith a good evening, then departed his shop, then promptly sat on a nearby rock for a few minutes to recover from the brutal assault on his purse these people were subjecting him to. 

His respite over, he headed for his last destination for the day: The herbalist's shop.

Dried plants hung upside down from the rafters, and jars full of who knows what lined shelves behind the counter, and a musty smell of old plants and an even stranger scent of indeterminate "Medicine" hung in the air like the scent of last nights dinner from a poorly cleaned pot.

[color=f9ad81]"Good evening!"[/color] he opened, after closing the door behind him.  He hoped he wasn't too late to catch the shopkeeper before they closed for the day.