Trinket was right where Fergio said he'd be.
The town of Port Tabara was in a rush, as everyone sought to seek shelter before curfew.
But the young elf boy was in no hurry.
He, along with some other notable fellows, worked to assume a bit of order in the ever-growing chaos and panic that began to consume the streets.
"The rest of you can move to my dad's shelter house if you currently don't have a home due to the Greitor attacks. As for you—"
Trinket slammed the stall table of another elf like him, although this one middle-aged.
"The trades can still open tomorrow. You need to seek some shelter, now." He said in a frantic voice.
"This is my only source of income and you want me to abandon it? I have children to feed. I just need one more trade then I can close up." The merchant responded desperately.
