rolled 6, 2, 6 = 14
You head straight down the center, your armored feet striking a regular rhythm on the worn-down stones. In this place, you are given your first taste of this land's multiculturalism; a mixing of the races you could not see back home. Here, small bands of goblins haggle with humans, avoiding the many legs of a bira as it passes by, scanning the shops with its tiny eyes. There, an aquen, its head encased in a bubble of water, chases a group of children dragging an enormous leather purse. Even you, in all your bulk and blueness, do not stand so far out here.
Down a side road, directed by signpost you go, with your armed and alert entourage. You get a few brief looks, an 'excuse me' or two as you try to avoid crushing anyone underfoot, but nothing to make you feel unwelcome. You arrive at your first destination, a small plaza ringed by the garish, flashy facades of jewelers. A great amount of people are crowded here, pushing past each other, all searching for the best deal. Bem points out the most promising location, and you do your best to get there in a timely manner.
Bem moves forward, bag of gems in hand. But the jeweler, a portly man with a curled mustache, ignores him, looking to you instead.
“Nice ring you got there, miss,” he says, nodding to the runic band. It makes you wish you were still wearing your gauntlets, but Bem told you you looked so 'menacing' in full armor. Silly.