As the old monk and his charge entered the toy-store, the owner, a corpulent, middle-aged man with a beard reaching from his chin to his neck, greeted them with a hearty "Hullo there, weary travelers! Come, take a look at my fine merchandise!", his meaty hands gesturing to the shelves lining the store's room, filled with children's toys; dolls, miniatures, anything a child under normal upbringing might have dreamed of was gathered here in vast amounts, even candy.<br/><br/>Behind the two, the clothed figures increased their step.