Excerpt 2 from The Secrets the Sun Keeps:
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“Hm. With the amount of customers visiting your booth,” He looked around demonstratively, making a show of landing on a competing leather and hides merchant. “I’m sure times are tough for you. I apologize, but I’m on a long journey from out west and the trip is far from over. I cannot afford to give away my valuables to charity. Farewell.” He turned with a flourish of a wave and the woman lashed the backs of his knees with her jagged spined tail. <em>Gotcha,</em> he smirked before morphing his expression to one of bewilderment.
In lieu of the broken common tongue she grated out earlier, she thrust a poly and… Yep, 50 agars into his palm. He stroked along the sharp grain of the snake’s hide, and its dark gold colored scales in phony contemplation. After thinking her offer over for a tense minute, the heavyset reptilian lady glaring a hole in between his eyes, he returned her coins to her and walked off again.
“You not find better deal than what I give you, stupid stranger!” Fumed Risha.
“Your prices offend me, miss. This exotic beast is from the west, further beyond Faulk than any in Minden have likely ever been. I owe it to the serpent to find somebody capable of rendering it into workable armor, rather than simply sell it to a higher bidder. Again, have a good evening.” He said all of this from a distance so that he had cause to yell it over the din of the market, and heads turned towards the ensuing argument. The higher quality vendors with finer wares wouldn’t have given an outsider a second glance, but the words ‘out west’ captured their attention. Still, he paid the solicitors no mind as he pretended to peruse other stalls and booths, the poly from his boot in hand to show that he was wealthy enough to deal with. Poor people were paid poor prices even for expensive items, and the rich got richer. Thieves, liars, and con artists were above both.
With time to kill, Erik milled around town and briefly debated on buying a drink at the tavern, but if he reeked of alcohol the group would assume he’d spent <em>their</em> hard earned money. There was a stable in town that looked like a strong wind would send its abused supports to their knees. He decided to scope that out. Although the building was dilapidated, there were three people standing guard- a middle aged man, a younger boy, and a woman around his age. So it was a family business, then. Walking by looking around the streets as if lost, he realized their house was connected by an alleyway to the stables and had windows facing over their business. The second time he walked by, he noted the woman looked up from scooping hay to watch him. Her husband barked something at her and she jolted, averting her gaze and getting back to work.
She was pretty in figure but had a plain face. It wasn’t clear what type of fae she was, so that meant there was a good chance she was a mutt or halfbreed of some sort. Certainly too low bred to be capable of magic. That husband of hers was a fearsome orc. Maybe even purebred with the length of those tusks. They were a hideous people with a temper to match their brawn, especially the males. A female orc who had a problem with you was no party either, though. How strange to see such a pure blooded male in this puny, filthy town. Had to be an outlaw or something. Or an opportunist seeking to profit off being the only source of a mount in the area. Erik had the feeling it was the former. His opinion of orcs was not favorable, thanks to the slavers that distracted him from the task of recapturing Meredith.
Erik walked through the barn style door of the stable with his hands in his pockets, stealing glances at the woman when her son and husband weren’t looking. The dark skinned boy, who took after his father more than the mother, announced they’d be with him in a minute. Clearly it wasn’t the woman’s job to handle customers. She looked like she had something to say, so he started the conversation with her anyways. Erik remarked casually on the beauty of the tall, fit black stallion they had. Nervously, she agreed and reached up to place her palm on his nose. The horse had to bend down for her to reach him, but seemed calm with her. Only two horses were kept here in the same double wide stall. Every other spot had weird, lanky otter looking creatures with webbed feet.
“You’re looking at the dire otters. Small, powerful, and capable of pulling cargo in groups,” The orc said, wiping sweat off his pronounced brow with one hand and pushing his tiny wife behind him with the other. She was all but flung towards the back of the shed and did her best not to squeal in surprise when she nearly tripped forward. “Whatcha in the market for, foreigner? Or did you just stop by to chat?” The last comment was spat at him, but he feigned ignorance and stated that he was only curious what types of animals were for sale here. His excuse only earned a grunt and a snort in response. Their boy was watching him like a hawk as well, but the woman’s eyes were turned down as she continued to sweep the same place on the floor, pushing the dirty hay around in a pile. He’d embarrassed her, and that worked to Erik’s advantage perfectly.
