Grog’s wagon was in the middle of town square among the other travelling merchants and vendors and store fronts. His two wargs; the ones who pulled his wagon; were hitched and laying down munching on a few legs of mutton. Grog’s hyenas were in the back of the wagon, laying down and barking and laughing as they napped in the sun. His wagon and table smelt of baked goods and spirits. He was a popular merchant in this time of year.

Kumin is scuttling about helping customers and keeping inventory.