Afternoon, August 17th.

The rays of the warm sun were frustrated by the sudden appearance of a large, white canvas tent.  While the grass beneath it cooled with relief, Graham Bombay busied himself setting up his small herbal shop.  Although the school provided a summer stipend, it was hardly enough to live by and Graham often supplemented it through reliving his once-dream of owning a herbal shop.  Most of his income came from setting up at gatherings rather than establishing a shop under his mother's roof.  He would face twelve weeks of Georgia Robert's readings rather than have anyone come to his mother's cottage for business or pleasure.  Not that anyone would have stopped for pleasure anyway.

Two tables were set up side-by-side, along with a small chair and cash drawer.  It was a rather plain booth; Graham was a minimalist at heart.  While others' enjoyed the pomp and flare of the festival days, Graham merely hoped he sold enough to purchase a new extra-large cauldron.  With the basic structure erect, Graham turned to unpack his trunk.  Jar after jar was set upon the tables, each glass container holding a different variety of herb.  He had rosemary, vervain, fenugreek, skullcap, ginseng root, bay leaves, Devil's Shoestring, aster, ginger, and the basics for a student going into potions among many other items.  The Woodcroft Days were his greatest opportunity and usually the more profitable of all his ventures; Nothing was held back.

After arranging them in a pleasing fashion that displayed them all to their best advantage, Graham sat back in his chair and merely awaited interest.  The idea of marketing or selling was never something he was comfortable with.  He merely gave others the opportunity, it was their choice to take it or not.