The Illithid is slumped on his bench, hissing.
Suddenly his head moves sharply upwards and his red, glowing eyes can be seen for a second before they are once more hidden by the grey hood. It screams and bursts into tears.
''It's not my fault! I thought he was gonna win! I really did!'' Came the high-pitched voice of the child, through the Illithid's sobs.
A snap, like the breaking of a bone.
''You horrible little brat! I explicitly told you not to bet that much. Why doesn't anybody in here listen to me.'' The merchant's voice came through the screaming.
''You're a selfish, horrible old man! And you're fat! And you have a pig's nose!''
The Illithid is suddenly thrown to the side, as if it had been hit.
A new voice emerges: A womans, kind and caring.
''Jonathon! What are you doing? Poor little child, you've hurt him, look.''
''I'm sorry, dear, but he did lose us a lot of money'' The merchant's voice replied, with the certain fake joliness of a short-tempered man attempting to control himself.
''I don't care, Jonathon! What do you think you're going to do with the money in here anyway? Doesn't seem to be many shops around here does there! That was absolutely no excuse! Come here child, I'll look after you.''
The voices fade out as the Illithid seems to regain control of itself.
It quickly returns to its tent, muttering under its breath.