The Toy Tinker
Jim snorts. "So? When does that matter at all? There's at least five worlds I know of which would kill people like me on sight, and that doesn't make me a bad person."
Fourth Tower Compound
Arty would actually deck this person if he was in front of him. The first would be priceless; no sane person would give that up and an equal number of people would have it unguarded. Two he's at least heard of the person, but Three and Four are so vague they could match hundreds of people in theory. Five could be simple if any fey behave like normal stags; they'd drop their antlers once a year anyway. Of course, spring is when they're growing them back, so it's unlikely they'd still have them around. Which means the last three were the most doable. The very last he could probably do in about fifteen minutes if he could phrase a request for it well enough. Ponies were always very generous, even though his anatomy often freaks them out a little.
"All right, if I completed this for you, would I just speak to you again or would you want me to do something specific with these objects?" he asks calmly.