"Is that enough to get your attention?"
The goblin-thing didn't even look up.
"I think you dropped something," it drawled. "And I told you, the register's down. I might be able to trade, though, if you've got more than two little shinies."
The rider scoffed in indignance, the coins re-tracing their path back to the pocket they'd been tossed from on a current of magic.
Flipping the comic book closed, the beastie jumped down from the counter and held out a hand.
"I'm Guffin, by the way," they introduced calmly. "You?"
"Lady Harriet Hyacinth Gervais the Licensed Greater Council Mage of the High Mountain Elven Court," the rider announced.
"Miss Harriet," Guffin nodded confidently, despite their eyes having wandered off about the time she had reached Hyacinth. "Nice to meet you. Now, what do you even want? Can't trade without knowing what's being traded for."
Harriet blinked slowly.
"Travel equipment," she explained. "I've been using magic to get around, but mana is hard to come by in the foothills, and I've been reduced to mere tricks."
"Like breaking locks, and floating shinies around?"
"Yes. And keeping my horse on this plane of existence. But not keeping dry, or eating anything more filling than the blackberries along the road."
"Wow. Okay, yeah. Well, how far are you going?"
"As far as it takes," Harriet puffed importantly. "I have been sent by my people on a mission to bring back the Chosen One, to defeat the Great Bone Dragon of the North. I will travel as far as I need to find this Chosen One, and return them to the High Mountain Court for training for when the Dragon awakens."
Guffin, sometime in the middle of this proclamation, had wandered over to the shelf of hats, boots, rope, and tents, and begun filling a modest-sized canvas tote with beginner's camping equipment.
"I don't think we sell a Chosen One," they called over one shoulder. "What do they look like?"
"The Chosen One," Harriet sniffed, "could look like anything. Traditionally, some nice boy or girl of about twelve, who is brave and noble and willing to learn to fight for the greater good."
"I'm twelve. Do you think I could be the Chosen one?" Guffin asked with a grin, showing all five of their teeth. "Like in the funny papers?"
Harriet's eyebrows almost went through the gold band on her head.
"I sincerely doubt the Chosen One is a shop-keeping goblin," she spoke carefully. Clipped, and a little too carefully.
"Do you have a way to know that for sure?" Guffin returned, popping another piece of candy in their mouth on the way by, before beginning to shovel powdered soup packets and traveling bread into the bag. "Also, this is my parents' shop, not mine, and I'm not a goblin."
"Besides goblin this candy," they finished off with another grin.
"I do have a way to know that for sure," she sighed, almost glad for an out. "And what do you mean you're not a goblin? You're...."
Guffin raised an eyebrow. "Miss Harriet, what exactly do you think a goblin looks like?"
A deep sigh, and the turning of memories.
"In the training lectures" Harriet spoke slowly, "we were told that goblins were strange little beasts..."
"I'm pretty normal for around here," Guffin pointed out, "and even a little bit tall, not little."
This didn't land as hard as it could have, only coming up to Harriet's midsection, and she continued.
"...With beady eyes, and razor sharp teeth...."
Guffin chewed loudly, showing off teeth that really more closely resembled some of the gravel in the road as far as wide and blunt, and boggled their eyes out in two different directions even harder than usual.
"....sort of... greenish..." she was slowing down, "with uh... a natural predisposition to chaos and fighting."
Guffin had now raised the other eyebrow as well.
"You don't have to be colorist like that," they chided gently. "Not everybody can tell peachy skin from green, it's a real common thing. And nobody's built for war, not even war machines."
Harriet did have the honor to blush at that.
"Look," the mostly-goblin shrugged, handing over the canvas tote, now loaded down to bursting with a full kit of supplies. "Maybe I'm not the Chosen One, and maybe I could be, or whatever. But you're not going to last two days out there in the woods, even if you did make it all the way to Pumpkintown without a tent. I've got some paid time off due me, so I'd like to come with, at least for a little ways until if you decide some other kid is the Chosen One. I'll even get you all this stuff for just one whole handful of shinies, or whatever else you have that might be interesting."
Harriet considered for a long moment. The goblin... Guffin... had made some fairly decent points. Perhaps with a little magic, once she could reach her magic again, they would be a little bit trainable as a Chosen One... or else distracted and left behind at the first city that had a route to the highway. And it certainly couldn't hurt to have a local guide until such a time.
"Fine," she nodded, and reached for the bag. "I'd also like to stay the night, and leave in the morning when the rain clears up."
"Done."
There was a loud crash as the tote crashed to the ground, closely followed by Harriet, who had completely crumpled under its weight.