The Price of Fish

It's just past noon, Variday. It's the beginning of summer, and the sun is shining down brilliantly. Here at the guard post leading into the city of Alexandria at least. There's a lot of activity at the gates. A line sprawling into forever. Other places it might be raining, but here, for now... The sun shines.

The crowd slows even more as a cart in the middle hits a rut too hard and the axel snaps in half. It's one of the carts leaving the city, but it lurches into the lane for those entering and nearly hits another cart entering. Barely the horses avoid one another, but now the cart is effectively blocking both sides.

It's going to be a long day.

The diminutive woman is impatiently waiting in the line to get back /into/ the city. Murder has voiced her opinion as to the slowness of the line, the competency of the guards, and someone ought to set up a sandwich stand out here, they'd make a killing.

When the cart loses and axel, and then veers into /HER/ lane, she smacks her cheek and rubs at it, making a growling sound.

"Are ye blind? Ye can't have missed seeing that rut a mile away. Why were ye going so fast?" Forsaking her spot in line, to the relief of those behind her, she stomps over to the wagon, ducking low to peer at the busted axel. "I'm no expert... but the axel is screwed. If ya want to get out of here... you unhitch yer horses... I'll move the'wagon.", she says, to whomever was driving.

She had been walking for weeks. Could she have ridden? Perhaps, but this journey began on foot and she was intent on seeing through. She had never ventured outside of her homeland of Bludgun, but her desire to know more about her other half, the human half had reached a point she could not deny it any longer. Thus, a conversation with her father, the Chief of her tribe, and Arzhela had set out for Alexandria. Her mother had spoken of it years ago and she Arzhela figured there would be no better place than the city to learn about a part of her that remained hidden.

The city had come into view and she knew her trek was nearly over. A feeling of uneasiness came upon her, a feeling she seldom if ever felt. What was she going to see? Did they accept her kind within the walls? All of these questions raced through her head as the gates grew closer and closer. However, she would stop in her tracks as a cart in front of her caused an accident, blocking the road before her.

Her steps began once more again, slowly, careful not to approach to closely. She knew she was different and caution was going to be used. Her voice would call out in the standard tongue her mother had taught her, but she would stop her words when hearing the gobber. "Do you need any more help?

For some (or many?), the day is already well underway. Also for some (maybe not so many?), the heat is a welcomed, comfortable thing. Tlanexhuani's weathered blue scales don't shine or glint in the sun, though the polished bronze of his armor does. The Makari patiently awaits his turn in the line to return to the city, leaning on his crystal-tippedspear like the supportive aid that it often is.

When the cart ahead lurches and there is the sound of snapping, he winces, then begins to edge his way towards. "All well? None injured?" he inquires with curiosity and concern. That is the priority, but he then looks to the broken wagon, the familiar gobber, and back. "Maybe could be repair, replace?"

GAME: Murder rolls perception: (17)+21: 38
GAME: Tlanexhuani rolls perception: (7)+12: 19
GAME: Arzhela rolls perception: (16)+0: 16

Plenty of people were moving in between the wagons and alongside the road; not even people who were headed in and out - just people milling about, peddling wares or trying to catch the latest news abroad. Some might even be bored in this hot summer day.

Speaking of people wandering around, a particular bundle of cloaks was making his way about, peeking a black beak this way and that, as if in search of something. Holding in front of him was a box of ice of and an assorted collection glasses upside down.

The crash finishes all that though and the box, along with its contents, is splashed onto the ground, and soon Crik is peering at the scene of the accident as well. From around Cuemoni. Just in case.

GAME: Crik rolls perception: (16)+11: 27

Cuemoni, the turquoise-scale sith-makar, is in line to walk in as well. The Shaman is dressed today in her hide garments, as per usual when she's out and about in the world, but this time, there's an added element of a small calico kitten on her shoulder. It's adorable.

"Tentlacihuitl, do not move from this one's shoulder." Cuemoni is rather matter of fact today. She also regards the collection of people with golden eyes that seem rather... impatient. "This one knows you need the kitten food. This one is unable to provide the mother-kitten's milk. Ay, be patient!"

Angry kitten mew suggests no, Tentlacihuitl will _not_ be patient.

GAME: Cuemoni rolls Perception: (20)+8: 28

The fisherman who is the driver of the axel-broken cart hefts a sigh and gets down to look at the damage for himself. "Damn it all! How'd that happen?! It's brand new!" He hefts a heavy sigh and the owner of the other cart - a farmer with turnips for the market comes around looking irritated.

"You hit my cart!"

"Did not!" Says the fisherman in angry reply. "Look, not a scratch!"

"Your horse clipped my horse! Now 'e won't move!" The turnip farmer is irate and the two are quickly stirring into a fight. Nobody seems injured thankfully.

GAME: Cuemoni rolls 1d20+1: (17)+1: 18

The cart shudders as there's a loud THUD, and the Goblin extricates herself, rubbing at the top of her head. She squints up... up up at Arzhela, and shrugs her shoulders. "You look strong, so yeah, if you want t'lift that side..." Murder lets out a huff of brath, and growls at the two arguing.

"It doesn't matter who hit whom. Lets just unhitch th'horses, and this lady an' I will move the cart out of the way." She squints at Tlan then, and shrugs to him. "Iffn you have the ability to repair th'axel, could solve this problem right away... or maybe a mend spell?"

Well, what a fine representation of the human race. Arguing farmers in the middle of a road in the heat of summer. No wonder her mother never returned to her people. There is a rolling of Arzhela's eyes and as she turns to look away from the arguing men she spots the adolescents hovering around the back of the cart. Were they going to still something in th midst of the argument?

Her glance remains fixed on the children, her eyes narrowing and she lets out a low muttered growl as she makes eye contact with one of them. Not a word spoken, non-verbal intimidation.

It is Murder's words that draw her gaze away, snapping her back to the scene. "Lift that side. Okay." And the half-oruch young woman begins to move to the mentioned side, placing her hands on the underside of the stuck cart.

GAME: Arzhela rolls intimidate: (18)+9: 27

Crik had long since abandoned the box of ice and such, and had instead taken to observing the surroundings. Curiously, his head turns towards the said crowd of child rascals - and then he slowly hops around. Hop. Half step, hop.

And then when Arzhela levers _her stare_ Crik freezes. And very subtly lowers himself down towards the ground.

Before a moment alter he runs off towards the kids to eavesdrop on them closer.

Cuemoni's golden eyes catch something by the fisherman's cart. Several somethings. She makes a rumbling noise in her throat. "Ay. The hatchlings are afoot--"

Then comes an extra complication in the form of 'kitten going rogue'. Because that little nose picks up something tasty-smelling. It happens to be fish. So little Tentlacihuitl bounds off of Cuemoni's shoulder and onto the ground, prancing over to the cart.

"Ay! Tentlacihuitl!" Cuemoni sighs, and she darts over to the cart, picking up the kitten... Which is where she spots something else. Suddenly her body language changes. She bows her head.

"O Golden One. This one offers this youngling as tribute." Cuemoni holds up the calico kitten to... Nothing in particular? But in the cart. Tentlacihuitl gives a 'mew' of protest. Not an offering! Not tribute!

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+5: (18)+5: 23

"Peace on your nest," Tlanexhuani greets Murder, first, but expands it to include all nearby. "Sa. This one maybe fix, but with claws not magic. Iss not fast. Better if moved, first. This one help with this, too." It is rude to stand and watch others exert to help when he can also help. He stows his spear and steps up with the oruch and the mighty Murder to grab the cart. He then tries to put some muscle into it.

GAME: Tlanexhuani rolls strength: (14)+4: 18
GAME: Arzhela rolls strength: (7)+3: 10
GAME: Murder rolls strength: (13)+2: 15

The adolescent gang is spotted, and the intimidating glare of Arzhela is effective! However the eldest of them steps forward, a broad-shouldered lad more adult than youth with a scraggle of hair on his chin to prove it. The kids are a mix of different races, human, half-ourch, mostly goblin children. The lad in the front is of the middle variety, but not yet grown into his fullest height and breadth.

"We, the Golden Gang claim this bounty! CHARGE!" The youths rush forward at their leader's word and the argument between the two fighting fisherman and farmer alike ends as the children start grabbing armfuls of fish and rushing off at full speed.

At the same time the three trying to situate the cart manage to get it out of the rut - though it sags due to the broken axel, and one of the kids - the leader slips in the mud and crashes to the ground with his haul. "OUCH!" He curses loudly, and tries to get some of his fish back and to his feet again.

Meanwhile, Cuemoni is face to face with golden eyes that peer into hers almost hypnotically. "FISH ONLY!" Says the thing she is talking to loudly in a feminine voice and then a flicker of gold zips away from the cart. Denying the tribute of kitten offered to it. It's headed in the same direction of the children, seemingly aiding and abetting in their theft.

GAME: Murder rolls intimidate: (6)+23: 29

Murder acknowledges Tlan with a nod, and is happy enough that the wagon sags, for she puts herself into that weak spot to prevent the cart from collapsing. (It's also low enough for her strength to be useful) She's pleased that the cart is able to surmount the rut, and that the arguing farmers are distracted by the gang of kids. However, as the fish starts getting, the Goblin starts getting angry. "YOU PUT THOSE FISHES BACK!", she says, stomping her feet and splattering mud /everywhere/.

This also causes the cart to lurch and bounce.

"My name is MURDER!! I have beaten DEMONS, the SLIME PLAGUE, and more undead than is healthy! I can FLY, run faster than THE WIND, and JUMP higher'n'you! I will drag ya by the EARS to your mothers or the GUARDS, whomever I FIND FIRST!"

All the while making the cart lurch as she stomps.

The cart is at least pulled from the rut. In Arzhela's mind, that is all that needed ot be done, get it out of the way. However, the horses are more than likely still not happy with all the happenings. "Unhitch the horses." She starts to walk towards one of the animals, trying her best to not get kicked if they are struggling at all. It is in this action that she catches the charging children. Were they attacking?

It was not as if she could simply injure a child, even if that child thought they were tougher than they actually were. This, she simply stepped away from the cart and started walking directly towards one of the charging children with purpose

It is murder's outcry that causes her to pause a moment a small sneer coming to her lips. "I like this one.." Eyes back to the child in front of her as she braced for the running boy.

Tlanexhuani straightens more upright after the cart is out of the rut, back creaking not unlike the cart that should be easier to move off the road now. He blinks slowly as the youngling appears from the cart, and with fish. He adds some things together and calls to the running youths, "If want fish, are fish in river and sea, Ssa?" Or bought from, say, a fisherman, though he sees that buying probably wasn't at the top of the young ones' list. "Also waters cool from heat!" In case they needed more encouragement to fish like everyone else. If there are any gold things zipping about, he doesn't spy them immediately as he is focused on the fleeing fish filchers.

Cuemoni is wide-eyed as she stares in the direction of the golden streak that has just refused her offering of kitten. She puts the kitten back onto her shoulder and bows her head. "Fish only," she replies. "This one apologizes, Golden One, for not bringing the proper tribute."

She eyes the cart. And all of these... unruly children. There's a rumbling sigh in her chest. "Ay! Children!" she shouts, raising her voice and causing the kitten on her shoulder to jump a little. She never shouts this loudly, but occasionally, a woman must. "Behave! Stealing is not a proper way to bring tribute to the Golden One."

The Shaman's tail whips about in an agitated manner that would make a sith-makar hatchling think twice about their next move.

Well. Crik was never against a good heist. He hops around and picks up some of the felled mud fish and holds them up with two of his fingers. He then lets out a slow, building up laughter - that turns into rough croaks and caws.

At the point where Arzhela starts walking after the youths though, Crik takes a step and covers the leader's retreat with his cloaked persona - along with his multitude of cloaks. "Is anyone injured? Are the horses okay?" He asks, holding up his hands, one of them still holding a fish. "... we have to give proper tribute to the golden one." He points towards Cuemoni. "... and take care of the fish."

With all the angry adults on the prowl those children with empty hands scatter without winning the prize of fish. The leader eyes Arzhela with a wide gaze, but when Crik offers a venue for quick escape... he takes the distraction and RUNS. Fleeing to the left of the guard postings who are only now beginning to realize that something is up.

"Those thieves! Look at how much they stole! I'll pay! Someone go after them! I want my fish back!." The fisherman is irate, grabbing for the fish that Crik is holding. "My wares are *not* tribute to anyone!"

GAME: Murder casts Fly. Caster Level: 15 DC: 16

Once the wagon has been moved out of the way, the Goblin eyes the fisherman. "It will be difficult to round them all up, they're going to split up and go every which way. I speak from experience." She blinks. "In chasing such common thieves." Grumping to herself, she traces out an arcane symbol in the air with a claw'd finger, her voice uttering something quick and sharp. A moment later, she lifts into the air, and begins to dart after the retreating thieves.

"Let's see if we can catch the ringleader!", she calls out to her temporary new allies and possibly new friends. "If we can get them to give up, the others will too... or at least, we can find where they are hiding."

Tlanexhuani looks from the thieving younglings to the fisherman, back to younglings and finally stopping his head and eyes back on the fisherman. He does not give chase. Maybe he knows he can't catch them, or thinks overs might... or just does not wish to. "If young ones only hungry..." he begins to the fisherman. "This one pay missing fish. This one help repair cart." What was done wasn't right, but neither are children going hungry.

Cuemoni gives a small huff. "If they are hungry, then they will be fed," she says in regards to Tlanexhuani. "But this one wishes for them to know the right way to offer tribute to the Golden One. Stealing fish for tribute is not how to create goodwill. This one will teach--and help pay for missing fish." There is a structure for creating relationships with all entities, regardless if they are dragon, humanoid, or sith-makar, and by the spirits, Cuemoni will teach it.

However, unlike Murder, she doesn't have the ability to fly. She just relies on chasing after them like she is chasing hatchlings--which she has done before as a nest-guardian in years past. "Ay children! Come back; this one will teach how to offer to the Golden One."

Crik lets go of the fish and then hops around to try and deflect alot of the blame. Whilst the chaos unfurls around him - of accusations and of chasing goblins - the corvid egalrin slowly hops about near Cuemoni and asks. "... who is the Golden One?" He asks quietly.

"... and why do they eat kittens?"

It's not hard to track the adolescents. After all, they aren't skilled in obscuring their tracks and some of them run slow enough that you can basically just follow them back to their base. Which is a lean-to made of sticks on the edge of the woods. It looks like maybe someone started a shed and then decided to abandon the project and the kids added their own boards and graffiti to it.

You notice as you draw close that the small dragon - only the size of a moderately sized cat - is cooking one of the fish while a child holds it on a stick. Then the child runs off and another replaces them. However you don't get too close before the half-oruch boy blocks your path. "Hey. You don't belong here. Go away." He puts his arms over his chest.

Murder lands with a thump in front of the Half-Oruch, and cants her head to one side. "And you lot have fish that don't belong to ya. So hand over the fish, or hand over some point t'pay for it. If yer hungry, we can find you proper meals, hmm? Maybe some place nicer to stay, too."

The Goblin adopts a similar stance as the boy does, but her expression is more cheerful. She taps a muddy foot on the ground while she waits.

Tlanexhuani cannot argue with Cuemoni. She has a point. He does now decide to follow the others in the parade after the children to their not-very-hidden lair. One that proves to be ... a dragon's lair?? A wee one, but one all the same. That the golden one is flame-broiling the stick-fish for the younglings makes him glad that he chose to follow.

When the boy takes up guard, the bluescale crouches down further to be more at eye level. "Fish not belong here, but are here. Others' words speak true: should not take from others." His eyes then shift back to The Golden One to watch. How could they not?

Cuemoni looks at the half-oruch boy. She is distinctly not afraid of the child, but she also isn't putting off the atmosphere of a bully anymore. "This one is here to show you how to make proper tribute to the Golden One," she says firmly. "This one is a Shaman, who makes treaties and good relations with spirits. It is important to learn the proper way. It is good to make relations with the Golden One--but it must be done correctly. There can be no good relationship if the Golden Gang is not acquiring tribute correctly."

Here she gives a more amused hum. "This one will show you all how to fish, so that you do not steal fish from fishermen."

Crik hops along and follows on after the other makari and the goblin - but instead of others, he finds the nearest child and quietly bows down. "... and do not announce your hide out." He quietly whisper to the kid. "At least behind one smoke bomb and a note."

The sight of the small dragon was very curious though - and soon he was drawing on one of his endless sketchpads hanging off his robes and making sketches.

The bold half-oruch boy frowns at the group of you. "How about this, I'll take on the strongest of you, and if I win... we keep the fish. If not you can have them back." He looks quite determined.

At this point the gold dragon takes notice and lifts herself into the air to land on the boy's shoulder.

"What is going on?" She inquires, peering at everyone gathered with a stern expression and curiosity.

The child that Crik approaches looks at the egalrin in surprise and then claps. "Birdy!" It seems he's been identified!

Murder frowns. "I am not going to fight children. It is unfair, even if you are an Oruch boy." As the little dragon settles on the boy's shoulders, the Goblin points a finger at her. "I know you, dragon, and your desire for fish. You should instruct the children not to steal such fish. That fisherman is trying to provide for his family. You know well enough that you should offer things in trade. Coins preferably, but they may desire other things. Talk it out." She crosses her arms.

"These children may get into trouble with the guards for stealing, and people may get hurt in the chaos caused. The guards will get mad if the children or other people get hurt."

Tlanexhuani is in awe of the golden dragonette, yet still blinks when she speaks as if it is a surprise. Which might be why he's also slow to answer. "Ssa," he concurs with Murder. "Iss not need fight. Iss not right." Though he may not agree with everything the gobber has said as he adds, "This one not think golden one ssseek all fish for self. Did cook for younglings. Still, iss not right to take things, also."

Cuemoni does not ordinarily wrestle children. But she also knows, thanks to experience in dealing with hatchlings, that sometimes one must approach children to the bets that they are willing to issue.

"This one accepts," she says. "You may determine the method." Then she carefully hands her kitten to someone to hold. "Please keep Tentlacihuitl safe."

The sith-makar then nods to the half-oruch boy. "I am ready."

Crik glances at the kid - then moment later his wing is over the kid, as he looks around in panic. No wait, nobody was coming to arrest him. Quickly pulling his wing back, he is back to holding the sketchbook. The corvid quietly scribbles repeatedly into the notepad, then offers the paper to the kid, and slooowly leans away.

The paper had a quick and sketchy impression of the scene in front of the two - and a bit of a map on the other side. It may have been a leftover sketch, or maybe a bit of the docks where they keep the fish, who knows!

The boy seems surprised that Cuemoni accepts but grins in pride. "We'll play Janken!" He holds his hand out to show himself ready.

Meanwhile the little dragon on his shoulder bristles at Murder. "Peoples buy! For Tanith! Badpeoples take gold and say no! Take fish away. We liberate! Myfish!" She flexes her wings out proudly and hisses. "Fish for all!" The children cheer.

The child takes the paper from Crik and eyes it then grins at Crik and pockets the map (not map just sketch!) and gives Crik a hug!

GAME: Cuemoni rolls 1d3: (2): 2
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d3: (2): 2

There we go! No wrestling children involved, just rock-paper-scissors. Cuemoni rumbles a happy noise. "It has been some time since this one played janken, but this one will attempt it. May the best player win."

Not that janken has much in the way of skill to it. One, two, three--

And the oruch boy and Cuemoni both have clenched fists (claws in Cuemoni's case). "Tie!" Cuemoni announces with a laugh. "We go again."

Murder frowns. "They did not buy this fish. They stole it. I was there." She tsks. "It is highly disappointing. I thought Gold dragons were supposed to be good." She remains with her arms crossed, while watching the Sith rock-paper-scissors-battle with the Oruch boy.

Crik looks shocked when he is given a hug, but then he bows his head in that questioning, slow, jerky bop. He turns on his toes and starts hopping away from the hideout, before the bad people with swords and attitude arrie to ask questions the egalrin did not wish to have answers to.

Tlanexhuani blinks slowly (something he seems very good at, or at least has much experience with) when the contest is not a fight, but a game. One that he is not very familiar with, or has no comment on as he watches.

Tanith shakes herself at Murder. "Buy before! We take because he didn't give!" She seems incised by the fact that Murder doesn't believe her. Underneath her the boy grins and gets ready to throw another hand of Jaken.

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d3: (2): 2
GAME: Cuemoni rolls 1d3: (1): 1
GAME: Murder rolls sense motive: (4)+1: 5

The Goblin can't help but giggle a little the way Tanith reacts, and she slowly shrugs. "If you're telling the truth, you should still have considered that it is dangerous for the children to go taking the fish. You should contact people like us. We're less likely to be hurt, and we have means to tend to our hurts if we do get injured. If it's your fish... then we should go and have a ... chat with that fisherman, yes?"

Cuemoni tosses down her hand... And it's a fist again to the oruch boy's open hand. A loss. Cuemoni laughs and shakes her head. "All right! Fair is fair," she acknowledges.

She nods to Murder. "We will settle things with the fisherman. Do not worry, Golden One, and do not worry, children." Here she bows fervently to the one who has introduced herself as Tanith. "We will return."

Off the Shaman goes to ensure that the fisherman gets his due: because it's not nice to steal gold from children. (Allegedly.)

And as it turns out, the fisherman really did accept gold from an affluential archmage as an offering to Tanith, but figured that the mage would never notice if it wasn't delivered to the middle of nowhere for no seeming reason - and that he could double his profit by selling elsewhere. He'd no idea about Tanith... or the children. (Whom someone should probably do something about.)

-End