Amelya stopped for a brief moment to look the man up and down, impressed by his finery and the manner of his greeting. "Prevja" she would greet him, offering a terse smile in acknowledgement of his wares. "I am in need of good quality cloth for a dress I'm cutting in time for Tuvmas." She would kneel slightly to run a finger along the surface of a rolled bolt of deep blue silk, fascinated by it's fine craftmanship. Amelya, reaching into her satchel to dig around for what few remaining Minas she has would inquire "And how much for this, just one bolt would do." With a thin smirk the merchant would reply "Thirty, for a lass such as yourself." Nodding in acknowledgement and resting the silk under her arm, Amelya set off further into the bazaar to search for something to quench her thirst.
