[ WP ] You run an RPG pawn shop . You haggle with adventurers who try to sell loot they 've acquired .

`` Look what I got today!'' Eetmai exclaims as she dumps her bag of loot onto my counter, and I count seven- *seven*- ebony llama statuettes among several rolls of random fabrics, a silver dagger, various assorted gemstones, and three forks. Well, three is better than the fifteen she brought in four hours ago, and I only bought them because I felt bad it was the only loot she picked up after slaughtering the den of vampires that was sucking the village dry. 
 
 But, still. You know. Why. *Why*. 
 
 And, *oh*, these *llama* statuettes. Jaeven above, I am so sick of them. `` Llamas again. Oh joy,'' I state flatly, and Eetmai smiles widely, flashing her pearly white teeth. ``... Five gold.'' 
 
 `` But these are *so* nice!'' She presses me as she shoves the llamas into a small pile and pushes them towards me. Her doe-like eyes are unnaturally wide and she's giving me a stare that bores into the deep, dark recesses of my soul. Deep, dark recesses that wish they could hide. Or jump of a cliff. 
 
 I groan. Loudly. `` So were the four you brought me yesterday. And the several the day before that.'' I glance over my shoulder to the small basket full of the statuettes, and then glance back to her. `` Five.'' 
 
 `` Ten!'' Her smile widens and she raises herself up on her toes, exposing more of her bare midriff. I'm not impressed. Really. If I would have been impressed by anything, it would have been her breasts, which she has clothed with a thin piece of leather shaped with boning. I do n't know how she keeps them in check, but more importantly, I do n't know how she has n't sustained a lethal swording to the heart. In any case, her charm and womanly assets are lost on me. I have a set of my own. 
 
 She starts to sway side to side and strums her fingers on my counter top to the tune of `` *The Victorious Death of Varnstraegarr*,'' and I swear if I hear it one more goddamn time today, I will murder that fucking bard in the tavern across the street *myself*. All he does is sing. And sing. And sing. And it's the same song. And it's all fine and well and dandy when he's holed up where I ca n't hear him, but I keep my shop door open for convenience and that little shit will wander out into the street to belt his bore of a tune and I-... I'm getting side-tracked. I raise my hand and clear my throat, then refocus on the hero in front of me. 
 
 `` Listen, Eetmai- Uh-'' I suddenly realize that I do n't know the last name of the hero of our known world. 
 
 `` S'teemeebuns!'' 
 
 ``... Uh-huh. Okay. Listen, Eetmai S'teemeebuns, I really appreciate all that do you for, well. Everyone. I do. But I ca n't unload these llamas and forks as fast as you're bringing them to me.'' 
 
 `` But they take up *so much* inventory space!'' 
 
 I feel my eye twitch, and I furrow my eyebrows. A tinge of irritation sparks somewhere deep within me. ``... Maybe you can stop picking everything up,'' I suggest. I intend for my tone to remain neutral, but it's bubbling over with the seeds of seething hatred. 
 
 ``... I ca n't help it. I have a room in my house that's dedicated to cheese wheels. My bedroom dresser is full of necklaces and rings. I do n't remember where they all came from. I have a separate bag just for herbs and flowers!'' She says this as she digs into said bag and proceeds to spread hundreds of plants all over my counter. I sneeze. 
 
 I sneeze again. 
 
 Fucking lavender. 
 
 `` Listen-'' I sneeze and motion broadly at the plants, and she responds by picking them up one by one and putting them back in her bag. As she does this, my counter top is littered with a fine layer of pollen, and assorted leaves and petals that I have absolutely no use for because fucking shit I hate my life. I sneeze again and raise my hand to cover my nose. `` That's just, yep-'' 
 
 `` I do n't even know how to make potions!'' she continues as she packs her flowers away, and suddenly, like a bolt of lightning to the poor novice witch, I'm struck with a brilliant idea. 
 
 `` Dresden knows how to make potions! And you know *what*?'' I force as cheerful a smile as I can manage, positively beaming with joy. `` I bet he would *love* to teach you! He's single, too!'' I wink. And nudge the air with my elbow, and then reach out to pinch her shoulder. `` And *handsome*.'' Carefully, I gather all of her things in a pile and push them towards her. `` He's right next door. Just tell him that I sent you, k?'' Inclining my head, I watch for her reaction. 
 
 She's silent, and I assume... well, *hope* that it's because she's thinking. If I imagine enough, I can picture the gears turning in her head. They're a little rusted, but they're still there and that's what counts. I watch a smile curve her lips. `` It would be really nice to have a warm meal to come home to every night....'' 
 
 `` It *sure* would.'' 
 
 `` And with the extra gold, I could afford some better armor and weapons!'' 
 
 `` Why, that you could!'' 
 
 `` That's a really good idea! I think I'll have to go over there!'' She pauses, having caught a glimpse of the llama pile. 
 
 *Please no, please no, please no. * 
 
 ``... Do you think you could give me six gold for the llamas?'' 
 
 `` I'm sorry.'' I smile and point to the door. I can hear the bard starting to croon, and I'm just not doing this anymore. No. Nope. `` But if you do n't leave now, you might miss him. I heard he loves llamas. Please go now before I kill myself and everyone around me.'' 
 
 Cautiously, and slowly, she wraps her arms around her pile of miscellaneous junk and backs away, giggling nervously. ``... I-I'll see you later.'' 
 
 I wave. `` Yep.''
