Ah, Retrimonde! No, I meant that sarcastically.
And if I'd been thinking, I'd have taken the form of a human child, rather than walking around in my more competent normal form.
Retrimonde is one of those towns that works to have others call it a city. Sure, it was surrounded by farmer's markets, three of them, one per road, and only half a day from the town walls. At all hours of the day, carts were pulled both directions along each of those roads.
Two full squadron of ten cavalry each paced back and forth, sometimes venturing off road to check for bandits. Oh, and to harrass those of us not of the "noble races"; humans, elves, and dwarves.
"Where are your citizenship papers?" demanded the cavalry private who thought I didn't recognize or understand the Furdian rank structure.
"I am heading to Retrimonde expressly to obtain such papers." I said.
"What is your profession?"