Open Who Will Buy?

[Ashar]

14th of Spring, 515AV
South Point, the Drykas Market

Walking along the third tier of the city, Ashar made his way across the docks and toward the southern beaches of Riverfall. He deliberately avoided eye contact with the many people he came across along the way, some of whom he'd recognized from his various walks around the tier. These were people in particular he wanted to avoid. Not that he held anything against them, but in his current frame of mind he desired to be left to his own thoughts. That would change if he met someone he knew well, but that was something else. Dealing with various thoughts and feelings that he was not used to, Ashar tried to keep his seclusion as he made his way toward the southern beach.

He'd heard that many Drykas merchants had come into the city and set up stalls there, joined by some Riverian merchants so that people of both settlements could barter and trade for each others goods in a grand gathering of the societies. For many, it was a cultural crossover that allowed two peoples to intermingle and interact in a way that happened only once a year. It was more than goods being exchanged at the market after all; stories and tales were also being traded around, perspectives and experiences that people rarely got to see.

Ashar wasn't so very interested in anything other than the wares though. Not in his current frame of mind. He knew very little about the Drykas and their culture, so he had no idea what to expect in terms of purchases. At least he was getting out, though.

A crisp salty breeze blew in from the Suvan, catching the Akalak's attention for a brief moment. It was strange to him that he'd lived his entire life in a city perched on the edge of a great ocean and yet he had never really experienced it. Much like the Drykas, the Suvan was another mystery to Ashar, who seemed to only recently be noticing just how much he didn't know. Perhaps, he thought to himself, there would be time to explore it all sometime in the future.

Then he sighed inwardly. That was, he would be exploring it without Jek.

[Colt]

There was a certain relief to be felt at being amongst his own people again. much to Shahar’s surprise. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed the gentle susurrus of Pavi around him, or the sharp scent of horses and grass that wove through every tent and pole of their homes. And it was pleasant to be in a market that didn’t require passage through the cramped and unforgiving cobblestones of Riverfall proper.

The market had been raised to celebrate the close proximity of the two cities, and although Shahar didn’t know much about what was being sold, he hoped to find someone willing to part with snares. The Dawnwhispers’ trip had left him poignantly aware of the comfort that came with living as close to Endrykas as they were accustomed to, and now he could see about replacing the traps that were no longer serving him.

Akaidras, too, seemed happy with the sudden presence of other Striders; his steps were cheerful and light as he approached the stretch of tents and traders, woven with undercurrents of shouting and bartering. Zibri grazed peacefully on the outskirts of the area, joined by the short-haired, thick-horned cattle that were native to Riverfall.

He entered the market with high hopes and spirits, and was immediately set upon by hawkers of both cultures. The Common shouts were so loud and fast that they slipped past him before he’d any chance to decode them, but that didn’t much concern him; he’d know what he was looking for when he saw it.

The majority of Drykas tents were, unsurprisingly, woven red with Ruby family insignias. Much of the Drykas wares were made by Ruby hands, although with some focus he managed to spot tents of all colors; physical crafts were not the only things that could be had at this market. He expected his quarry would be found in the tent of an Emerald, although Ruby would not surprise him, either.

“You, there? Yes, on that pretty black bay.”

Shahar slowed and glanced over, but did not stop. A red-wrapped Drykas was shouting and signing at him, having obviously guessed at his race by the horse he rode and the tattoos on his back.

“You seek to sharpen those spears on your shoulders, friend? I’ve a stone just for the job, finest in the Clan.”

Shahar brought Akaidras to the halt, nodded to convey that he was listening. The hawker seemed to realize that Shahar was not the sort to listen out of politeness, and so continued at a quick pace.

“A sharpening-stone, one of Drykas-make. It will last you, friend. Flintsplitter’s honor. Here,” he held up a stone for Shahar to see. “Large, and shaped well.”

Unable to make out any specifics at such a distance, Shahar angled Akaidras towards the Ruby Clansman to examine the whetstone more closely. It was indeed large and well-shaped, and Shahar thought to his current stone, which was small and slowly outliving its usefulness.

How much? Shahar asked.

“Twelve for you, friend.”

Twelve was beyond what the stone was worth. Shahar shook his head. Eight.

“I have to make a living, you know,” the Ruby said. “Eleven.”

Nine.

“No. Eleven.”

Ten.

“... Scalper. Ten it is.”

ledger-10gm for sharpening stone

[Ashar]

Although Ashar had never been to the tent city of Endrykas, he imagined that it was basically what he saw before him on a far grander scale. A veritable sea of tents, an ocean of red with veins of various other colors, stretched from the edge of the third tier and far along the cliffs, all the way to the where the wall peered high over the shore below. Within the maze created by the tents was a hive of people, buzzing between stalls like so many colorful flowers. People of both cultures could be seen: Drykas and Akalak, as well as those others who were paying a visit to either Endrykas or Riverfall. It was an impressive sight to be sure, one that managed to uplift the dour Akalak's mood, if only a little.

Descending the few steps from the tier to the shore, Ashar let his boots sink gently into the sand before proceeding to enter the hubbub of the marketplace. Instantly he shed the skin of an observer and become one of the hive, getting lost in the swath of people, though not nearly as energetic as most of his present company.

So many displays called out to the Akalak's attention that his head was frequently swiveling from one side to the other so as to absorb it all. Many traders from both cities called out for constant attention, but Ashar spent more intent focusing on those of Endrykas. After all, Riverfall was not going anywhere, and its wares would forever be within Ashar's reach. There was no point wasting this opportunity perusing stock that would be available for purchase at all other times, neglecting what was only available here and now.

As Ashar slowly left behind the Riverian merchants and moved even deeper into where the Drykas had set up their tents, more and more of the Drykas language could be heard. Even though Common was still used with Riverian customers, the nomads conversed among themselves in their own language far more frequently.

It was here that the Akalak learned that there was more to the language of the Drykas than just what was spoken aloud. Walking by one particular transaction taking place, Ashar noticed that the trader was the only person talking in their exchange. The customer, who never dismounted from his horse, said no words, instead moving his hands in various complicated gestures, to which the trader responded naturally as if they'd been conversing out loud. It was a confusing notion at first to think that a language would rely on the complications of gestures overlaid with words, but then again who was Ashar to judge? He'd often heard complaints voiced by visitors that Tukant was a needlessly wordy and obtuse language to learn as well.

After watching a whetstone leave the trader's hand in exchange for some Mizas, Ashar figured that here was a good place to look for something useful. He approached the Drykas merchant and smiled as warmly as he could, which admittedly was rather difficult in his current mood.

"Excuse me," Ashar interjected in Common, choosing his words as carefully as he could. "You have a harness for a naginata?"

The Drykas trader dropped his mizas into the folds of his clothes before frowning at Ashar. "What's that? A weapon of some kind?" he answered, also in Common. Immediately Ashar was slightly envious of how easily the language seemed to come to the nomad.

"Yes. It is..." Ashar searched his mind for the words he was searching for, trying to find the right one. In Tukant it would be much like describing it, but with so few words to choose from in the Common tongue he had to be careful about which ones he used. "It is long wood weapon, much like... scepter." The moment the word left his mouth, Ashar knew it was the wrong one. Cursing in Tukant, he looked up at the trader's previous customer.

"Like that," Ashar said, pointing at the spears pointing out of the rider's shoulders. How convenient. "Like those, only more longer. The metal, longer, like sword."

Nodding in understanding, the Drykas trader took off one of the weapon harnesses that were hung from the top of his stall like a row of necklaces, fiddling with the buckles so that they were considerably larger than before. Likely it was to account for the Akalak's larger size. "Got it," the trader said. "That'll be seven Mizas."

"Seven? It cost five here!" Ashar exclaimed loudly, although a bit delayed in his reaction due to the second it took for him to remember Common numbers. In case it wasn't obvious that Ashar was a stranger to haggling before, it was certainly starkly apparent now.

[Colt]

Not a heartbeat after the stone and mizas had exchanged hands, someone else was approaching the merchant’s tent. Skin the color of black-amethyst and tall enough that he hardly would have had to tilt his head to look at Shahar, even on horseback, there was no way to mistake the man as anything other than Akalak. With his transaction complete, the merchant turned immediately and slapped on a haggler’s smile.

The Akalak’s words were slow and careful common, awkward enough for Shahar to pick them up. The language was the largest reason Shahar stayed; the majority of common-speakers he came across spoke quickly and fluently, and those words were far too fluid for shahar to make any sense of. This Akalak, however, seemed only marginally more comfortable with the language than Shahar was, and it caused Shahar to linger.

The Akalak was looking for a… harness? A sling-thing? To keep things contained. That was a harness, wasn’t it? Yes, a harness for a nagitana––A word Shahar had never heard before. Yet another point of intrigue to keep him listening, now with a hint of curiosity in his shoulders.

A nagitana, according to the Akalak, was long and wooden, like a… nother word Shahar had never heard. Turning, the dark-skinned giant pointed to Shahar. No, to his javelins; the Drykas glanced at the weapons on his back, then back to the exchange.

The merchant seemed to understand what the Akalak was looking for, retrieving a mass of straps and buckles obviously meant for a weapon. The holster was oddly shaped, and it make Shahar even more curiously determined.

The Akalak let out an indignant growl at the offered price: seven. And then he said… five?

“It is worth five,” Shahar interjected in Pavi, drawing the gaze of the merchant. Perhaps if he bargained down this harness for the purple man, he could ask about the exact nature of a “nagitana.”

[Faradae]

Ashar
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N O T E S

Grades withheld: You have not posted since last summer. When you return, please shoot me a PM so I can get to your grades!

Colt
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E X P E R I E N C E

• Negotiation +1

L O R E S

• Colt: Misses the sound of Pavi
• Negotiation: Haggling to lower a price
• Nagitana: Weapon similar to a javelin

N O T E S

This thread had only just started, sadly. I wish I had more to grade, the language barrier could've been interesting!

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