You squint at the instructions. Pa appears to be saying to head to “Falmon Street market,” and that is an “F.” It is just to the right of where you’re riding.

There on Falmon Street is the farmer’s market, with more farmers than you could’ve possibly imagined, and then some. There are farmers smaller than a grain of rice and farmers that are taller than the oak tree that stretches up to the heavens on your farm.

A man whose size is about the same as yours comes up to you. “Ahh, are you here representing Pa?” he asks with a voice that sounds scratchy. You nod and gulp as this figure has a courtly energy to him. “Your stall is here,” he says, so you set up your wares to await customers. Your two farmer neighbors are Clyde, who is a horse, and Walter Whitman, who is a talking horse.

After 8 hours, no customers have appeared and you ask Clyde what is happening. 

“NEIIIIIIIIIIIGH,” the horse replies and you understand his point: nobody who needs goods is at the market. It’s all farmers selling to one another. You’ve been unable to sell anything on your trip. So you pack up your sled and leave the city to head home.

On the one long road, you find a turned over carriage. You pull the reins on Tyrannosaurus so he stops. A voice from inside the carriage hears the whinny of Tyrannosaurus and calls out: “Can you please help me? I am trapped inside!”

You go to rescue the person from the carriage and pull out a man who’s made of carved wood. “Thank you for rescuing me, kind person! I was on my way to buy goods in the city, but my carriage turned over and I’ve been stuck for 10 hours. Now I fear that I have missed the market!”

“But wood sir, I went to the market to sell my goods, and there were no customers, and now I must return with my unsold goods!”

The wood man thinks and then realizes, “Well, I normally love to barter, but I suppose I can buy all of your goods!”

You agree and return home with the money you need to pay the Duke.

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