The Paladin breathes a sigh of relief at the merchant's answer, then speaks politely to the man's vanishing back. "Thank you, sir. May the blessings of the Lord of Commerce be upon you as well." He would prefer to invoke Iomedae's name, but sometimes discretion is the better part of valour and Dastan has no intention of disrupting the festival by calling upon the lesser-known goddess. He steps to the edge of the square, finding a slightly less crowded area of the street, then checks his equipment, tightening the straps of his heavy armour and making sure that his blade is tight in its sheath and his mace is securely fastened by its belt loop, then when content that he is prepared sets a brisk pace towards the location stipulated by the sender of the mysterious card. It would not do to be late to such an important meeting, after all.