Marta the Grocer
Runs Glimmer Grocer. “Food for hungry Glimlings. Walk softly past the pudding aisle.”
Shopkeepers, daily hosts, sprites and scrappers: everyone worth saying hello to, and where they spend their days.
ShopkeepersDaily hostsSpritesStory folkAround townBrawl Bowl challengers
Runs Glimmer Grocer. “Food for hungry Glimlings. Walk softly past the pudding aisle.”
Runs Critter Corner. “Snacks for the wild critters of Glimmeria. Bramble Burrowes knows what every one of them likes best.”
Runs Whisperwood Library. “Every book here teaches a Glimling a new trick. Turn the pages quietly.”
Runs Prism & Pigment. “Every color you can name, and three you can't.”
Runs Dune Armory. “Battle gear a Glimling borrows for a bout. Also sand, plenty of it, free of charge.”
Runs Gloomhollow Apothecary. “Tonics for a boost, never a cure. Shapeshift potions for a whole new shape.”
Tusky McTrumpet's aunt. There is a knot in her trunk for each of the Cabinet's thousand drawers, and she remembers what every one is for, which most Trumpaloos can't. Ask for a stamp and she feels along the knots until she finds it.
Runs Thimble & Thread. “Hats, glasses, scarves and things to hold, made by a sock who has been darned a hundred times and can tell a good seam by feel.”
Pour, wait for golden, call the flip.
Pick a mold. Out wobbles a pudding.
Read the steam. Name the secret ingredient.
Pick a duck. The paint underneath is your prize.
Pick three trees. Only ripe fruit pays.
Make a wish, then wind the key. Free once a day, and every slice wins.
Turn the shadow to the hour in the riddle.
Unwrap gifts other players left.
Pick a depth. Your Glimling dives.
Pick a pile of fallen star-dust. Mote sifts it for a charm.
Three questions about Glimmeria and your week.
Find all eight words for 500 Glimmers.
One free cookie a day. It comes true by midnight.
Lives in a dandelion clock above Cloudhaven. “Puff! The wind carried your name to me!”
Lives in the puddles under the Mossmire boardwalk. “Splish! Could you do something for me?”
Lives in a whistling kettle in Saffron Dunes. “Fssst! Quickly now, before I boil over.”
Lives in a ring of glowing toadstools in Mossmire. “Pop! The mushrooms and I would be ever so grateful.”
Lives in a jam jar left open in Gloomhollow. “Blink! Do this for me and I will put a spring in your Glimling's step.”
Lives in the porch lamp at the edge of every evening. “Flutter! I collect curious moments. My cousin collects light, and we do not speak of him.”
Lives in a snow globe on a Frostpeak windowsill. “Brrr. Be quick, before it all melts away.”
Lives in the top half of the big hourglass in the Cogwhistle clock tower. “Shhhf! Time is trickling away. Help me?”
Keeper of the Starwatch Observatory. He has worn a ring into the floor around the telescope.
A turtle old enough to remember the last time the sky went dim. That was three hundred years ago.
Has kept the Moon Gate for thirty years in a very official hat. Four people have been through, and each one is in his book.
Lives on stilts in Mossmire and argues with her mushrooms, who give as good as they get. Most evenings she leans over the Hearthside Pot to tell whoever is stirring what they're doing wrong.
Lights the Gloomhollow lamp row every dusk with the flame on the end of his own tail. He knows which wick is fattest and will not say.
An old sailor with crumbs in his beard who sets his pocket watch by the Cogwhistle harbor clock. Bring him all four pieces of a star chart and he'll show you where the star comes down.
Fitted every Curio Cabinet in Glimmeria and cut one key for each. He calls himself Captain because his workshop window faces the harbor. He has never been to sea.
An old porcelain Brewbelly who keeps the eggs warm with her own steam and rattles her lid at anyone in a hurry. Every new keeper leaves with her first-week list.
An old Trumpaloo in a sweatband, whistle on a string. Thirty seconds on his sand course, then a mark on the clipboard.
Looks over her half-moon spectacles at a Glimling's glow and knows how it feels before it does. The only healer in Glimmeria.
Prints the Gazette overnight in a Cogwhistle print shop and sets every headline by paw.
The Gazette's critic. One monocle, usually one star.
Writes the recipe column the way her grandmother cooked, or at least with her grandmother's spoon.
Calls every Brawl Bowl round on Glimvision in a sequin tux, all three throat sacs puffed for the viewers at home.
Counts every arcade ticket out loud, and starts again if you look doubtful.
Buys nearly anything for half its catalog price, old Pebble Dojo training pebbles included.
Lives in a giant snow globe on top of Frostpeak, in a striped knitted nightcap. Ties a knot in that long trunk for every buried treasure, then forgets which knot is which. Each shake of the globe buries the slope again. His oldest knot is three hundred years old.
Ran Toybox Tower until it closed. Now she bounces from cabinet to cabinet at the arcade, squeaking for whoever is winning.
Kept Cloud Nine Salon until it closed, and fluffs the hats at Thimble & Thread these days. Every bow is the fluffiest she has ever seen.
“Blub! That was a battle cry.”
“For cheese and footnotes!”
“Ribbit-dee-doo, this verse is for you!”
“Darling, you are standing on my petal.”
“PAAARP! That was a warning.”
“Draw, partner!”
“Steady now. My tea is still steeping.”
“Watch me nearly fly!”
“Forty darns and not one came loose. Try your luck.”
“Cool down. Way down.”
“Forecast: me.”
“Undefeated. Unmatched. Unbelievably warm.”