Groose walked into the bazaar. The headmaster had insisted he get a goodnight's rest, which he had. He then pawned off some wimpy clothes on him. Groose figured they had to be worth something, and he needed supplies for his journey, so he figured he'd kill two loftwings with one stone, and try and trade it for supplies. The room quieted down as he made his way to the center of the tent.

"AHEM. I am going to be leaving on a-"

I took merely 7 words, and the entire room erupted in cheers. Groose couldn't decide if they were happy for him, or if they were just happy that he was leaving.

"I'M NOT DONE. I am going to need supplies. So, I offer you all… THIS UNIFORM!" He held the green clothing up, receiving a couple of "ooh"s and "aah"s from the crowd. An old man sitting at a table cried out,

"Aren't those the clothes of the hero?"

"I don't know, nor do I care gramps."

The crowd murmured, and several people shot him dirty looks. The woman running the small establishment the old man was sitting at declared, "You can't just go around trying to sell those! That uniform is a symbol of knighthood. How dare you try to profit off of it!". The crowd started to condemn him, and Groose got even more agitated.

As Groose was about ready to impale the old man, a weak voice called out from around the corner, "I'll fit you with what you need."

Groose looked around, and dismissed the crowd. He walked past the strange gizmo dude's counter and found a frail young-looking boy sitting on a chest.

"I'll take those off your hands."

Groose, for fear that this boy might reject the offer if any of the bazaar folk act up again, shoved the clothes off on the boy immediately. In exchange, he received a shield, a bottle, a handful of rupees, and some amber relics. Groose was happy with the trade, and headed out. People had gone back to their normal, useless state of life in the bazaar. Groose left the tent, and the sword placed at his side suddenly glowed. He jumped a bit, then pulled the blade from his waist. Fi flew out of the sword.

"Master Groose, I believe there's a 87% chance that the trade you made with that character was not an intelligent thing to do."

"Shut up Fi, everything I do is intelligent."

"Master Groose, there's a 100% chance you're wrong."