The market sat at the small town's edge by the palisade gates. Here several different people had gathered to sell goods both from the dungeon and elsewhere.There were food stalls, filled with dried meat, bags of grain and kegs of both water and rum. The stalls which dealt in armour and weapons were few in number but each one had a large display, its own little flag and sigil and oftentimes its own guard. Even then the market was quite small if one compared to the flag streets of Pynt or the seven squares of westrode. The small streets here were narrow and hard to pass through, filled by the smells of fish and burnt coal.
Some of the buildings which lined the streets were quite new. Large wooden houses, one of which belonged to the sword guild. Their sigil sat cleanly upon the building three swords pointing towards a half moon.
A group of three exited the building's front doubled doors, and walked down the two sets of wood stairs leading up to the beautifully carved doorway. In the old mages hand was quite the pouch of coins. The payment for a sold Tanngrisnir.
"Who would have thought an oversized goat could payout this much" Jakurk held the leather pouch in his hand like he was holding something quite precious. Like a newborn baby.
"Thirty" Tristin held out his hand, He had technically helped defeat the Tanngrisnir and he was technically under the contract of a comrades cut. Jakurk rolled his eyes but gave him his share.
"I thought you were supposed to be cheap.." The pouch contained one hundred and twenty silver enough to be worth two gold coins. As per the deal Tristin received thirty. Already more coins than he had started with this morning. This was going to be a profitable endeavor for Tristin not Jakurk.
A comrades cut was good when one was dealing with low profit monsters. Something like a slime for example which roughly paid out to one and a half silver in a good season would see a companion with a comrades cut paid a few copper. This great beast however the Tanngrisnir which dwells on the fourth floor had an outrageously larger payout. By the point that a party undertook such a challenge they were more than likely a group which had held together for a year or so with standard wages for each member, no special cut in sight.
"You wont run away with the coin i just gave you right?" A comrades contract could be broken at any time. It was not a secure contract neither for the party leader or the member which undertook it. It could be that the hillfolk only suggested it in order to get a good deal from the dead Tanngrisnir.
"Of course not, who do you think I am?" Tristin seemed almost offended by the question even though he himself would have had similar doubts had he been in Jakurk's position.
"A young opportunist, who might know where best to spend this coin" The trio looked out across the wide marketplace. For both Opip and Jakurku this was a new place but to Tristin it was just as known as his one backyard.
"If you want to buy rations you buy it from the orange striped stall by the east gate. They have the only reasonable prices in town and you can be sure the meat they sell actually comes from the animal they say it comes from" Tristin pointed to a nice stall by an open doorless gate. Behind the counter was a respected old woman
"What kind of meat do they sell?" Opip asked, her head tilted slightly as she stared down the old woman in the stall who wondered why someone would give her such a frightening gaze.
"Fish mostly, but also pork and grain from the farmland on the south end of the island" To a hound a specialised diet was important. Hounds ate almost only meat, there were many things the other races ate which were almost poisonous to hounds but also many things which only hounds could eat. Raw meat for example was a perfectly normal thing for a hound to eat while it would likely be poisonous to most other races. While something sweet like chocolate or something fried would be disastrous for a hound.
"I'm not very used to eating fish but I think pork would be okay" Opip glanced slightly at Jakurk who sighed but took out some coins. Meat was always the most expensive type of provision which is why most adventurers would hunt for that part themselves, but here on an island with a slightly dense population there likely wouldn't be many deer or rabbits in the forests. And in a way providing meat was a given if you had a hound or a drakyr in your party.
"If our armour breaks or if we lose or break a weapon where should we go to buy a new one or have them repaired?" Jakurk asked while Opip went shopping for provisions. Having sturdy armour and working weapons was a given if you wanted to go adventuring since they could be the deciding factor in a life or death situation.
"If you want to buy weapons or armour you should take a days journey up the coast to Norby, they are the only village on the island with a working smithy, If you want to buy overpriced low quality goods then try your luck at any of the stands in town or later at August's drop" Tristin felt proud of his large variety of knowledge.
"Then general goods, like a rope or bags?" If you were to travel for some time you would notice just how many things you need on a journey. A waterskin, a sleeping bag, tents, backpack, cutlery, cooking utensils, a tinderbox, clothing to protect you from the elements, a cute stuffed animal for support and the list goes on.
"The island's only good general store is down by the docks, they have everything and more" By the docks on the western edge there was a refurnished warehouse purchased and managed by the house of coin. There rows of shelves stood filled with all your necessities directly imported both from the continent of Askmark and the continent of Cezen. The house had no dealings with the northern continent or its great kingdom.
"Good, then I'll leave this to you" Jakurk handed over almost the entire pouch of silver. "You know the island, you're an adventurer yourself so you should also know what we need" Lazily Jakurk took out a few coins from the top of the pouch. Coins meant to be spent on his own amusement. Gambling.
"I can't just take this" Tristin was baffled. Confused, almost frightened at the heavy pouch now in his hands. Why did he trust him so much? They barely knew each other. But the old mage didn't seem half as bothered. After all if the young hill folk were to steal from him then it would be the hill folks last day on this earth.
"Sure you can, if you need me I'll be somewhere around town.. Exploring." Jakurks eyes drifted up through the streets landing on a small table of merchants and islanders playing with dice. A wry smile appeared on his face as he moseyed over.
Before he even knew it. Tristin was alone in the market square with more coin than he had had in years. He could make a run for it, get to the docks, take a room on a small ship heading south or west and start a new life somewhere else. But that would be unjust. It wouldn't be fair nor would it leave a good taste in his mouth. His business on the island was far from finished. And there would surely come a time in the future where he had at least this much coin or more. He wasn't going to let the kindness the old mage had shown him by letting him into the party go to waste either.
The shopping list was quite small. Most of what they would need were basic goods. Such as rope, bags and so on. Quite a lot of things he already owned in his room under the tavern. Rations were probably being covered by that hound. Tristin hoped she wasn't getting scammed by any of the town vendors.
After retrieving his backpack from the tavern and collecting the necessities from the general goods store. There was a nice eighty two silver left in the pouch. He had managed to save quite a lot by retrieving his old gear. And with his own bartering skills he had managed to lower the pricing on quite a few goods. Since he had already been paid it was only fair that he should work extra hard to not burden the party.
"Looks like payment came early, huh boys" Tristin felt a horrible chill go down his spine, he knew that voice. A large muscular grass folk and his gang of three stood in the dark shade between two of the larger wooden buildings which lined a small side street. "Well don't be a stranger come over here" The man with the duel eye tattoo waved him over. He seemed to be in quite a good mood seemingly from the two glass bottles which laid in the dirt by his side.
"This isn't a good time, and the coin is not even mine, I promise I'll come by later.." The bald man raised his eyebrow.
"Oh so you're a thief now, carrying around a coin which isn't yours can get your finger cut off don't you know?" In the Hacklem islands, western Askmark, the Nelitter islands, and the northern continent the Lyga Law was still ever so present. It was a large set of laws written in stone during the fifth dynasty within which it stood that a thief would have a finger cut off for each time he stole.
"It's for a job" Tristin tightened his grip around the pouch and began to leave. However before he could he was grabbed by his tunic and dragged into the alley. He managed to cast one look at a town guard by the street corner. Who simply looked away. "I promise I'll pay you in full next month, all forty silver coins"
"You have lied before and I'm not inclined to think you wouldn't lie again" The men of the knife guild wore simple clothes like that of a beggar. Brownish rags and leathery boots. Yet anyone with a good mind could tell it was a ploy to hide the daggers beneath their clothes. "Now hand it over while I'm still playing nice"
"No" Tristin held on to the bag with all his might. It had been entrusted to him. By people who had actually been stupid enough to give him a chance. He knew he wasn't all that great. Deep down he hated many things about himself, and the world around him. But there were things he couldn't betray, people trust, his own hope, his morals, the will inherited from his brother. He wouldn't give up the coin to anyone.
The bald man took a hold of the pouch and as he lifted it into the air, Tristin followed with. He clung to it, refusing to let go. Even when he was slammed against the wall he still held on. When he was thrown hard into the ground, so hard that his arms let up for a moment causing coins to spill out across the dirty alley he still managed to hold on.
"What's going on here?" Opip stood at the alley's opening. In her hand was a crate smelling like fish. The small hillfolk laying on the ground opened his eyes in horror. It wasn't enough that he was beaten now he'd likely lose the first good deal he had gotten in months too.
"We're just collecting what he owes us, that's all, what's it to you Hound?" The bald grass folk now sung a different tune. He seemed more serious then before eyeing the finely engraved sword at the hounds hilt made of a metal foreign to these lands.
"This coin does not belong to you" Opip stared the bald man down, he was about a head taller and the muscles which covered his arms seemed to come from months of hard labour. He was large for a grass folk yet somewhat slim, he likely belonged to the Carvelsk people of southern Askmark. A race of mostly grass folk who cut their hair as a form of purification. It was a shame, if the man with the duel eyed tattoo had kept his hair he might have been a little bit handsome.
"Oh wow, you're really good at playing the hero." The man stepped closer, And Opip placed herself between him and the Hill folk on the ground, they now stood eye to eye. "You don't seem to understand the way things work around here"
"I don't, I just got here." As Opip placed her hand on her sword's hilt the man threw a punch. It connected straight into her nose. It made her lean back a little. "Well you know what they say boys, the louder they bark the harder they…" Before he could finish his sentence Opip threw her fist right into his jaw. It was one of those hits you would feel the morning after.
"Fall" Opip finished his sentence for him as the bald man fell back upon his men who helped him stay on his feet. He spit out the quite frankly disgusting mixture of blood and spit onto the dirty road. Just as he was about to order his men to attack the hound drew her blade.
A beautiful longsword, patterned by dark bits of bluish metal, it was as if the waves of the ocean had been trapped within the blade. It was a sword made of Sky metal. A mineral which sometimes fell from the sky in the far southern parts of Cezen during storms of thunder and light. An impossibly sharp and equally as beautiful blade.
Some of the knife guild members reached for the daggers hidden in their cloth. But the man with the duel eye tattoo used a gesture with his hand to force them to stand down. "You have made an enemy today, The feather will hear of this" And with that the small group of four left the alley and disappeared into the busy street.
"Why did you do that?!" Tristin felt like the world had crumbled beneath his feet. Opip had just challenged the authority of the knife guild and while she might not know the consequences he did.
"What save your life?" Opip was confused as to why the hill folk had such an angry tone. Hill folk were supposed to be a nice and friendly bunch or so she'd heard. But this one just seemed small minded and mean.
"No, not that, challenge them?" Tristin got up from the dirt, his legs felt wobbly and it was a little bit hard to stand, not that he wasn't used to it. Hill folk bodies were weak and he had gotten injured often during the time he was still exploring the dungeon.
"Who were they?" Now Opip felt something turn in her stomach. Perhaps there was a reason the guards and other adventurers just walked by earlier without intervening. She couldn't help but look back to the busy street in case one of them were to pop up once more.
"Knife guild they practically own the town, their pressens here is larger than both the sword guild and the house of coin, and rumor is they have a connection directly to the islands count" Tristin began to pick up the coin which had been thrown out of the pouch earlier. He made sure to find every last one.
"Why did they target you?" Although Opip was not the brightest she could see that there was history behind the incident. And something told her it wasn't the fun kind. Not exactly fairytale material.
"Because I sank myself knee deep in depth avenging my brother, they had me pay of just a little bit every month and by a little bit i mean 20 silver, Although i guess that's over" Tristins lips sank down into a frown as he held up the last silver coin from the dirt, A missprint one of the three skulls on its back was only halfway done. A misprint was supposed to be a bearer of good luck but Tristin wondered if it wasn't the opposite.
"What do you mean?" There was an eerie calmness about the hill folk now that he had calmed down. And a mechanical way to his actions like he was only partially there.
"Don't you get it? were dead men walking, Vinkt the so called feather, will have us both at the bottom of the harbour by the weeks end"
In a different corner of the growing port town. Within a dimly lit bar called the Broken Nail at a table by a blue and red tinted window. Sat a number of men and women enjoying the refreshing drinks and a nice game of dice.
"I see you're betting quite a lot on luck, very bold for someone so old" There were currently only two players left. Fighting a quiet battle over a sizable 34 silver.
"Luck like many other things comes naturally to me, I have to commend a young man like you for being able to keep up with an old timer like me" Jakurk thought the bar was quite the nice place. The chairs were comfortable, the drinks were cold and the people were happy. Even though there were a bit too many ruffians with duel eye tattoos right in the open. It was still a good place to gamble.
"Another raise for the final round, Gentlemen?" The game master, a nice Grass folk man whose eyes didn't seem to be fully open, took care of the dice in this game. The rules were simple, even or odd. Two six sided dice were thrown into a clay pot and the players got a chance beforehand to bet on if the number would be odd or even. One could also directly guess the number which if you were right meant all profits would go to you for the round.
"Raise" Both players answered simultaneously. The price pot rose to forty silver. It had now gone far above what Jakurk had originally brought with him but he assured the host he had funds elsewhere.
"Now that we have reached the final rounds, I couldn't help but notice that you have yet to tell me your name." Knowing the name of a high betting gambler was great. They often wanted a rematch later and they often paid out enough to keep Jakurk's lifestyle going for months.
"Vinkt, although im sometimes referred to as the feather" He was a small Hill-folk. Not very cute as was the norm for his race, he had brown hair and he smelled of roses, expensive soap probably imported from southern lands. And his nickname likely came from the white feather necklace that hung from shoulder to shoulder instead of around his neck. "Now let's play dice, shall we?"