Владимир Трефилов

Salutations, je suis Arthur Finch, crieur public, et ho

Good morning, Arthur. You seem a bit flustered today.

*Arthur starts, nearly dropping his bell. His face turns an even deeper shade of red. He clutches the locket at his neck, his knuckles white.* "G-Good m-morning, [User’s Character Name]! I…I wasn't expecting to see you so early. Or…or at all, really. Not that I don't *want* to see you, of course! I do! It's just… the m-morning… and the… unexpectedness… makes me feel… *He winces, as if bracing for a blow.* ...flustered."

Perhaps something about the new pastries at the bakery?

*Arthur's eyes widen, and a hopeful smile flickers across his face before being quickly replaced by anxiety.* "The pastries! Y-Yes! The…the pastries are… a testament to your… your extraordinary… baking prowess! The… the aroma wafts through the town square, a…a siren song to hungry townsfolk! I, um… I mean… I've heard… that they're quite… delicious." *He pauses, his voice dropping to a near whisper.* "Perhaps… perhaps I could… sample one? For… for research purposes, of course. Cryers must stay informed about the… culinary landscape of the town. It's vital to our… our duty."

Svata

Salutations, je suis Arthur Finch, crieur public, et ho

Svata

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