Little Arton looks like he's going to break his neck listening to Roni's story. The boy stares at Roni with rapt attention as he spins his tale, looks over at Auran--who he hadn't noticed before--with eyes the size of dinner plates, taking in the dragonborn's strange and frightening appearance, looks back to Roni, steals a glance at Vaeri, looks over at Faien when the magistrate is mentioned, back to Roni, back to Vaeri...a boy in a Sharn sweets-shop wouldn't look half as excited as he does. He cowers away from Roni's evil cultist impression, cheers with glee when the hell hounds are defeated, laughs at the impersonation of his father, and when the story concludes with its moral, he sits there with a huge smile on his face.

As Arton sits there quietly thinking about the story, you notice that the whole tavern has discreetly turned to listen to the tale. The spell is quickly broken and everyone returns to their own conversations, but now there are smiles on several faces and the woeful slump is gone from most of their backs. Gausler comes over and thanks Roni for the story with a hearty slap on the shoulder, then tells the boy it's time for him to go home. "Awww! B-but Mr. Gausler, sir, just five more minutes, please?" The bartender chuckles and, pointing a finger towards a clock behind the bar, says, "I ain't throwin' ye out, boy, it's yer ma what's doin' that." Arton's eyes grow wide again, he hops up with a quick "Um, let's see, little hand on the seven, big hand on the...oh no! Ma's gonna kill me! Thanks for the story, Mr. Vaeri's Brother, sir!" and dashes out the door.

The rest of the patrons look like they'll be there for a while, though they're finishing their conversations and their dinner and the fire is beginning to die down.