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Cook meets Master Dwellover
Cook turned from her rolling out of the plum tart pastry and wiped her hands on her apron. Her hands went round to untie her apron as she nodded at Ginger and Artifondo. Laying her apron on the back of a nearby chair, she motioned toward the kitchen’s old oak table, indicating Artifondo should have a seat.
Ginger she instructed to fill the tarts and set them to baking while she spoke with the merchant. Might young! she thought to herself. She watched as he neared the chair across the table from her. Tall lad. Don’t remember the other Dwellovers being of such a height. She shrugged mentally. Never did have much occasion to get to know them well.
Time was passing, and she wanted to get ready for tea with the Elven gardener she’d met. ‘Well, Master Dwellover . . . what sort of wares have you brought for me to look over . . .?’
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