Balthazar heaved a happy sigh as he landed in a soft patch of grass on the outskirts of town. He always enjoyed visiting La'marri. It was full of interesting, magical people, most of whom were very kind. There was always new things to discover, and shiny things to barter for. But by far the best thing about the town is that no one gives him a second glance.
The dragon sighed again, this time not as happy. Unfortunately, he still had to transition to his smaller form to get into the shops. After a quick muttering of words and some concentration, Balthazar's form became more suitable to enter the town.
He milled about the town for a while, politely greeting a few familiar faces. He entered a few shops, but nothing really piqued his interest. He decided to take a break and get something to eat. Just as he started heading for a small tavern, he stopped. There was a small store, squished between a potion shop and a wand emporium. Has that . . . always been there? It certainly hadn't been there the last time he'd visited. The windows were strangely opaque and the store had no name, just a small sign reading "OPEN". Balthazar shrugged to himself and began heading towards it. This is what he was here for, right? Strange new things? He might as well. He adjusted the strap of his infinity satchel before pushing the door open, ducking as he entered. He heard a bell ring upon his entrance.
When Balthazar lifted his head back up, he paused in shock. This store . . . it's magnificent! Only subconsciously registering the presence of three other people, the dragon began to enthusiastically scour the store, admiring all the beautiful, shiny jewelry and unique magical objects. Oh, oh! There were even books! He quickly leafed through a few of the ones he could read, finding that they ranged widely in topics. He was beginning to feel faint. He put the book down and slowly backed up to the middle of the store, swaying slightly. He let out a low, yearning keen, attempting to slow his racing heart.
Once he had sufficiently calmed himself down, he briefly surveyed the other occupants. There was a gruff looking human who smelled of wolf, and a . . . a skeleton? who reeked of sulfur. A demon, he presumed. But he didn't care about them. Balthazar's crimson orbs finally came to rest upon the final occupant, the one behind the desk, the shopkeep.
Balthazar swallowed thickly, suddenly out of breath. "H-how . . . how much . . .?" he inquired desperately, forgetting to specify what exactly he was inquiring about. He gripped the strap of his bag tightly in anticipation.