The sun was high over the bustling market square, casting golden light on the vibrant stalls and weaving shadows through the throng of merchants and customers. Amid the cacophony of chatter and haggling, Tahlia stood out like a spark in dry grass.

Her loud, confident voice carried over the din as she leaned on her staff, a sly grin dancing across her lips.

“Step right up, folks! Don’t miss out on the rarest treasures you’ll find this side of the desert!” she called, her tone teasing but persuasive. Draped in her signature poncho and adorned with jingling trinkets, she cut a striking figure.

Her display table was a jumble of curiosity—gleaming pendants, colorful woven bracelets, a brass compass with a suspiciously sticky needle, and a jar of what she claimed were “lucky stones.”

A hesitant passerby paused, eyeing a carved figurine. Tahlia pounced with practiced ease. “Ah, an excellent eye! That there is no ordinary carving—it’s from the Ashen Hills. They say it brings fortune to those who dare carry it!”

The customer frowned, unimpressed. “Looks like wood to me.”

Tahlia tilted her head, her grin widening. “Wood? Oh no, my friend, that’s enchanted ashwood. Practically hums with power. Feel it for yourself!” She shoved the figurine into his hand, the faintest flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

As the man considered, she turned to the growing crowd. “Don’t wait too long, or you’ll miss your chance! Fortune favors the bold!”

Tahlia knew her trade was more than goods—it was performance. And she was the star of the show.