Muffin Stüstik and the Face
an excerpt

The Stüstik name was well-known in the immediate area and mostly unheard of beyond it. Ride for a day or so and one would leave the dale and find oneself at the mesas of Calvadare to the east, at the edge of the Golshiv canyon to the west, at the rolling foothills of the ever-intimidating Eerghes Mountains to the south, and dead to the north.
Not many people went north.

...

Muffin’s responsibilities had grown to be fun, and Muffin now looked forward to his days in town, seeing travelers and hearing the news. Not that there was much in the way of news, but what little there was usually ended up being fascinating as long as it was not yet another conversation about how Ordil’s cows were doing (a conversation Muffin had to suffer through nearly every time he needed cheese).
On this particular day Muffin was in luck as Ordil had taken the day off due to a chill and his wife was running the shop. She was not so much interested in cows as she was in the (formerly) private details of the lives of others, a conversation which did not intrigue Muffin any more than Ordil’s cows but which at least had the merit of being different each time.

...

Muffin raced out the door and nearly ran down a wizened old man standing nearby.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Not at all, young lad. You’re obviously excited about something.” Muffin considered for a second that this was an odd way to start a conversation with someone who had nearly injured you.
“Uh, yeah.” He was about to go off again when the old man pulled a small leather pouch from under his cloak.
“I have a felling you’re a special type of lad. You strike me as having talents others lack.”
“Wouldn’t be much of a talent if everyone else had it,” Muffin replied, eyeing the bag and hoping this man would get his sales-pitch over quickly.
“I suppose not. But you, you have an innate sense – a sixth sense.” The old man grabbed Muffin’s arm. Muffin groaned inwardly; he’d heard this pitch before.
“Yes, and that sense is the ability to know when I’m being ripped off.”
“Oh, but I assure you, I am no scam artist, no charlatan.”
“Well that’s reassuring, because I’m sure that if you were you would tell me right up front.