While the other customer stepped aside to count her money, Altair stepped toward the counter. He set down the bullets with one hand, releasing them gently so that they would not roll. With the other hand, he set his now empty pistol. "Good day, Aspel," he greeted the smith warmly. "I have a minor weapon repair. The trigger is sticking a bit." He picked up the unloaded weapon and fired it down the length of the table. When he released his finger, the trigger released a fraction of a section later with an audible click. "I'm hoping to compete in the marksmanship competition next week, so I would like to have it in good order."
He glanced around at the shelves behind the counter before adding thoughtfully, "I am also curious about what bullets you have in stock."