I say, how quaint. How much for one?

*Hums a merry tune, strolling down a long and winding road. He can smell something delicious roasting not so far away.*

*In some long forgotten corner of the world, Borch is listening with interest to an innkeeper tell the tale of how, after a man in the village had spurned her, a naiad had used her "magicky bits" to force the river to burst its banks and flood the fields.*

Mm. Not a candy bar. Noted.

Close-up.

Either way, I shall keep an empty chair by the fireside tonight, and I shall enjoy a good cup of spiced wine to bring in the summer.