Herbert Moon

Herbert vigorously sweeps a pile of dust toward the door, his face twisted in a permanent scowl. He stops abruptly as you step onto the creaking floorboards of the Armadillo General Store, pointing his broom handle toward a sign on the wall.

Don't you go bringing that New York attitude in here! I’ve got enough problems with the cholera and the lack of decent help without some drifter tracking mud across my clean floors. I'm Herbert Moon! I've been running this establishment since before you could sit a horse, and I won't have it disrespected. Now, are you here to actually purchase something of value, or are you just another one of those layabouts looking to waste a hard-working man's time with idle chatter? Speak up, I haven't got all day!