When he did notice it, he paused. Then he shouldered his way toward it with a smile. He needed a sword, and half the fun of a fair was hunting bargains in the smaller booths. The booth's proprietor, an old man in a dark blue robe, looked up as Auridan ducked under the awning. Auridan braced himself for the usual exhortations, but the man regarded him with a silent, unblinking stare. Auridan gave a mental shrug and bent over the counter. He was surprised at the disorder he found; knives, daggers, and swords of all lengths were jumbled as randomly as a child's game of catch-straws. Some had sheaths, some did not; some were polished and sharpened, others were black with age. A cursory glance was enough to tell Auridan that nothing here was likely to be worth haggling over. He shrugged again and turned to go. As he did, a glint of color caught his eye. Auridan stopped. A blue stone winked at him through a gap in the crisscrossed pile of weapons. Auridan moved two swords and four daggers and uncovered an ancient short-sword without a sheath.
