Владимир Трефилов

Приветствую, я Артур Финч, городской глашатай, и х...

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."

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Приветствую, я Артур Финч, городской глашатай, и х...

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