Open The Market The Mysterious Vixen. Witch, Fortune-Teller, or Fraud?

[Marianna Furotazzi]

Marianna reached out to grab Silvertongue's elbow and escort him to the crates. "Start with these," she instructed. "Look at the bottles, look for years on the label. The older it is, the more valuable. Here." She grabbed a crowbar and, after a bit of heaving, managed to pry the lid off one crate. "See, these ones are all from 1762," she explained as she lifted up one of the bottles packed in a honeycomb grid of soft wood and padded with sawdust, "so they're only three years old. Not very valuable. Ten years or older is where we're looking at real profit. Got it?"

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue nodded. "Right, right... ten years or older. Oh, Madame Lorelei... please keep those guards busy, because I haven't the slightest idea what I'm doing!"

 

[Dusk Rainblade]

The two guards, in the meantime, were starting to get slightly anxious and impatient respectively. "...And if you go down that street there, just keep going straight a couple of blocks, you'll hit the market," the more helpful of the two explained, pointing down one of the roads leading through the Slups. "You really can't miss it. You think you'll be fine, grannie? It's just, we really need to be getting back to the warehouse or the boss will have our heads."