Ugh. Another day in Orsinium. Honestly, Clavel, if we don't return to Auridon soon, I may lose my mind. What shameless merchants operate out of this city! You'll never believe what one of these Orc vendors tried to sell me. I was minding my own business, examining an assortment of roots and snowberries—they were all shriveled and rancid, by the way—when this toothless merchant shoved a bowl of fat in my face. A huge bowl of fat. Can you imagine? He claimed it was the fat from some legendary troll or some such nonsense. I asked him why anyone would buy such a thing and his rheumy eyes just lit up. Would you like to know more about troll fat? I'm something of an expert now.