“I’d welcome it, but it would mean that I’d have to clean,” replied Mizuki with a smile. Their transaction completed, Mizuki retied the string her rings were kept on, again without looking, and slipped it back into her bag. “What do you know of Isra?” Mizuki asked. “Is she nice?”
“A bit cold, actually,” the shopkeeper said. “Given what she brings to market, she must be a good hunter and trapper, because she has game even in the long winter months. I think the beastmaster had to speak with her once about taking too much, actually. Anyhow, a few months back I offered her a standing arrangement for her game, and she rebuffed me, which I thought was a bit rude, mostly in how she chose her words. It might be because she likes to shop her wares around every market day, but I don’t know if that’s it, because it’s hard to get any chatter out of her. She’s a bit late today, but I would expect her to arrive sooner than later, the better not to miss the midday rush of customers.”
“I appreciate it,” smiled Mizuki. “I’ll be back for those venison loins later.”
“Of course,” the shopkeeper said with a nod. “And it was nice to meet you, young man. Alfric, was it?”
“Yes,” said Alfric, bowing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t inquire as to your name.”
“Marta,” she replied. “Good luck with your dungeon run. You know, I used to do the dungeons myself, when I was much younger. When I quit, I had twenty-eight under my belt.”
“Did you?” asked Mizuki, leaning forward slightly and not seeming in the least like she was ready to leave. “I would never have guessed. Why did you stop?”
“Oh, we had to go further and further afield for the dungeons,” said Marta. “And toward the end of it, I was pregnant with my first child, which would likely have put a stop to adventuring anyhow.”
“But what did you do?” asked Mizuki. “Let me guess, ranger?”
“No,” laughed Marta. “I was, in fact, a wizard, though only middling at best, and I’m sure I could hardly get a spark engine going, it’s been so long. I sold most of my old equipment off a decade back.”
“Well,” said Mizuki, “if we ever do have that dinner, I’m happy to have my ear talked off about your adventures.”
“Ah,” said Marta, looking across the market. “There’s Isra now. Should I call her over for you?” She pointed to the opposite end of the market, where a teenaged girl with a loaded backpack was talking to one of the other shopkeepers. She was dark-skinned, as Alfric had already heard, and wore a headscarf that completely covered her hair. Attached to her stuffed backpack were over a dozen brown furs, all strung together, though Alfric knew virtually nothing about small game. As Alfric watched her, he noticed a glint of metal by her face, which he quickly realized came from piercings in her nose, lip, and one eyebrow.
“We can wait,” said Alfric. “I don’t want to spook her.”
“She doesn’t seem like she’d spook easy,” said Mizuki, who was likewise watching the girl. “But I doubt she’ll like you, no offense.”
“Big-city energy?” he asked.
Mizuki nodded. “Maybe let me handle her?”
“Sure,” Alfric replied. “Remember, it’s a fifth share, not much work or risk for any of you,” but before he could finish, Mizuki had already taken off.
“Mizuki’s a firecracker,” said Marta, from behind Alfric. “Nice girl, but not too responsible with her magic.”
“Hrm,” said Alfric. He watched as Mizuki approached Isra and tried his hardest to listen in on what they were saying, but it was too far away, and the market was too busy. All he could do was read the body language, Mizuki’s animated expressions and Isra’s folded arms. Mizuki pointed over at Alfric, and he gave a friendly wave, but Isra didn’t wave back. “Is she going to be a problem?” he asked Marta.
“Mizuki? Oh, I think she’ll do fine,” said Marta. “She reminds me a bit of one of my dungeoneering friends from back in the day. I won’t say all sorcs are of a type, but Mizuki certainly seems to be. If you find yourself in need of advice, I have some to spare. There are more old adventurers in Pucklechurch than you might think, most of whom would be happy to help.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Alfric, nodding. “It’s appreciated.”
After what seemed like far too short a time for it to be good news, Mizuki returned.
“She’s not interested,” said Mizuki with a shrug. “So cross that one off your list. Seems a shame, she was cute.”
“What did you say to her?” asked Alfric, frowning at Isra, who had moved over to the next stall, her backpack considerably less full.
“I gave her the pitch, like I said I would,” replied Mizuki. “She gave a pretty firm no.” She shrugged again. “Can’t force people into a dungeon, you know? I don’t know if that’s a rule in the city.”
“I’m going to speak with her,” said Alfric, walking away before Mizuki could add more commentary.
“Good luck!” Mizuki called after him.
Alfric approached Isra from the side and waited while she engaged in her negotiations over her furs. He tried to project polite patience, but patience had never been his strong suit. On closer inspection, he could see Isra’s many piercings, all of them apparently gold, which seemed unusual for a ranger. Her head covering wasn’t really a scarf, as he’d thought before, but a single piece that had been made for that purpose. Like Mizuki and Alfric himself, she was clearly not from the area, with skin the color of mahogany, a rich ocher, and beyond that, a wider nose and thicker lips. Alfric’s people had originally come to what was now Inter from Tarbin, to the east, but that had been five hundred years ago, and they had kept almost nothing of the culture. Isra seemed a much more recent arrival. Isra herself didn’t seem cute to Alfric at all—there was something too stern about her. She was pretty, certainly, but cute gave very much the wrong impression. She didn’t smile.
Once the transaction was completed, and her furs off-loaded, Isra turned to Alfric. “Yes?” she asked.
“We’re putting together a party for a dungeon run,” said Alfric. “It’s a half day’s work for better returns than you’re likely to get anywhere else, one-fifth share. No other obligation.”
“When?” asked Isra.
“Today is possible, but first light tomorrow is more likely,” said Alfric, though Verity apparently didn’t rise until fourth bell, so that might have been too optimistic.
“How much will we make?” she asked.
“It’s hard to say,” said Alfric. “As a reasonable bottom end, four hundred rings, divided five ways, but that’s after everything has been sold, which could take some time.”
“And the magic items we want to keep?” asked Isra, eyes narrowed.
“My plan was to have us bid with parts of our share,” said Alfric. “If you bid a third of your share and take the bid, then if we bring in four hundred rings after sales, you would get,” he paused, working it out, “fifty-four and everyone else would get eighty-six.”
“I want first pick,” said Isra.
“We’d be bidding,” said Alfric. “First bid?”
“I want to win equal bids,” she said.
“Deal,” said Alfric, though it was more than he’d wanted to give. If she had first bid, he could have just had her start and not mentioned it to the others. Having her win equal bids would be difficult to explain and wasn’t the best start to a working relationship, but sometimes these kinds of concessions were needed.
“I’ll be in town until sixth bell,” said Isra. “When sixth bell comes, I’ll wait by the warp point. If you’re not there, I’ll assume we’re doing it tomorrow and meet you there around first bell. If it’s not one of those two times, I’m not doing it.”