The pedlar picked up the shell, and returned it
to its place in his pack.
Thenswiftlyhe searched the elfs body, removing
his elegant white knives, taking the pouch from his waist, tipping
its contents into his palm, and pocketing the coins, cutting the
fastenings from his silken tunic and stowing them, finding a silver
chain about his neck and ripping it free.
The pedlar paused and, frowning, held the chain up to the light.
A fancy elven locket, shaped like a crystal shard, dangled at
its end, and it seemed to him that the thing was speaking to him,
daring him to open it.
He considered this for a moment, watching the afternoon sunlight
glance off its polished facets.
Then he shoved it in his pocket.
A second search told him that the body was clean.
Reasonably satisfied with his haul, the pedlar took up one of
his flasks, uncorked it, raised it to his lips and, throwing back
his head, swallowed its contents.
Then he closed up his pack, tied it securely, heaved it onto
his shoulders, and set off.