[center][h3]--- [i]Outskirts[/i] ---[/h3][h2][i][b]Akitsugu[/b][/i][/h2]Early Evening
[@Xaltwind][@Tally Dor][@Expendable][/center][hr][hr]
The other of the two newcomers, the one who looked like he'd come from a position of much greater wealth, must have followed after Akitsugu and Darryl as he raised his own concerns about the person shouting for goblins. Akitsugu glanced back at him.

"Clothes for goblins? [i]That's[/i] what he was shouting about?" What kind of fool would try to engage in business with---

The pot-bellied dwarf was moving now, and the blacksmith's head snapped back in his direction. He saw the sword at the fellow's hip...but the dwarf took his hand away from the hilt, and so Akitsugu did the same. He seemed to be approaching them, so Akitsugu did the same; he didn't catch everything that was said, but heard something to the effect of:

"...needed to make sure this place had nothing untoward buried in it."

"I see." Akitsugu nodded. The tone of voice and body language seemed jovial enough. The blacksmith relaxed and smiled back. "There are no goblins here, sir---the only monster we've encountered thus far is a slime, which quickly found itself in Mr. Brom's cooking pot---"

The dwarf waved his hands, and magical runes flared. Akitsugu's eyes dilated as he reflexively jumped back, distancing himself a full two meters from the apparent mage, and once again he moved to draw his blade!

Then a blue chicken appeared with a puff of smoke and a loud "Bak-buk-ba-CAWH!"

Akitsugu's brain just couldn't process it. He lost his balance and stumbled drunkenly to one side, instead of executing the smooth step-and-draw-cut one might've expected. The crimson-maned dwarf declared himself Chanticleer the Chickenmancer.

The blacksmith sat down in the grass, and looked helplessly at Darryl and the (as yet unintroduced) Ned.