"Let's get going," Tamma said. She fastened the knot on the side of Lug's harness and gave it a good pat. She looked up at the looming clocktower on the opposite corner of the section of the town. "We still have a couple of hours of prime trade time."

"But what about... you know who?" Miwah asked. Tamma had already started to move with Lug trailing on her heel. The seamstress dashed to the hunter's side.

"You saw Narrita and Horace. And their snake, Pierce."

"Snake?" Miwah asked with shock. “It looked more like a dragon at that size!”

"Yep. That's Narrita's best friend. Fits her well." Tamma's face turned dour. "They're the leaders of Farrowport's most notorious gang of bandits. The Cutthroats."

"Sounds like the kind of name you earn."

"They deserve it, that's for sure. Wherever there's people trying to make an honest living, there's going to be someone trying to exploit them. That's what Narrita and her crew do."

"You never brought them up before."

"Farrowport has a complex society, all right? I can't explain everything you need to know about this place off the top of my head in a single discussion." Tamma stopped the procession in front of another alley. This one was wider than the passage that they had traversed through to get into Farrowport, but it was longer and consisted of a myriad of buildings that made it maze-like. "They like to harass lonely merchants. Take their money and take their goods. Especially if you go through one of the numerous alleys they've claimed as theirs."

Miwah looked at the dark passage formed by the walls of buildings with worry. "Then why are we going through an alley?" she asked without taking her eyes off the damp ground ahead.

"It's the fastest way to get to the Market Center. If we take the long way around, we might as well not go." Tamma nudged Miwah in the arm with her elbow. "You're not scared because of what I said, are you?"

"Just a bit."

"You? Of all people are scared?" Tamma cocked one eye and chuckled. "Aren't you the one that battled with a ravenous grizlewulf head on?"

"Oh. Right."

"If Narrita and her crew try to stop us, all you need to do is activate that wild magic of yours and they'll go off running!" Tamma pointed towards where her necklace was underneath her robe. "They won't mess with anyone they know they can't beat. Just show them some of those martial arts of yours and they won't mess with you again!"

"I suppose that could work. And if they continue to pester us, perhaps I could get a bit of practice in with my weapon." Miwah moved her arm as if she were holding onto Liberator."

"That's the idea! Maybe I should be asking you to help me get around Farrowport."

"Maybe once I learn the layout a bit more."

"Yeah, maybe. But for now, we need to get going. I don't want to show up once everyone has already spent their money and all of the fresh food is gone." Tamma entered through the alley first, with Miwah and Lug following behind in a single file. The seamstress kept her hand over chest, ready to grab onto the diamond at any moment. Unable to keep her head straight, Miwah scanned the alley for any potential hiding spot that could obscure any potential Cutthroats. Crates, planks of wood and doors all became potential threats.

Tamma picked up the pace, making those behind her do the same. After a sharp turn at a fork, the other side of town was visible through the narrow exit. "Just up ahead," Tamma said as she turned to face Miwah. She pointed in the direction of the end of the alley, her body covered in the afternoon light. "Just a bit further, Miwah. Then we can get you some real food to snack on.

The seamstress shifted her hand from the necklace onto her stomach. At the mention of food her stomach began to rumble. Lug began to moan as well upon hearing the word. Tamma put one hand on her hip and wagged a finger in front of the brillick's face. "Not you. I know you harassed Miwah until she gave you a piece of that forest rat jerky."

"Sorry," Miwah muttered.

"Don't lose sleep over it, lass. That snack is a coin a dozen. I'll pick up some more while we're here." Tamma stepped outside of the corridor first, basking in the warm noon sun with arms spread wide open. "Nothing quite like the salty aroma of peak market hour. What say you, Miwah?"

Once they exited the alley, the full scope of the Market Center came into view. To the left was a long wooden harbor where every section had a boat stationed in it while other ships circled in the calm water beyond, waiting for a chance to dock. Rows upon rows of awnings protected the sellers below from long hours in the sun. A narrow dirt-covered pathway allowed for shoppers to navigate between the swam of people surrounding the various booths and stalls.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The seamstress took in a couple of whiffs with her nostrils. Sea water was the most prevalent scent. Then something smokey before the stench of unwashed sailors hit her. "N-nothing quite like it?" Miwah stammered and blinking. "That much is true."

"It'll take some getting used to. Come on over here. I'll get you something fresh." Tamma waved her hand as she headed closer to the docks. The dusty stone ground turned to solid wood. There was discussion coming in from every angle with speakers of a wide range of languages and accents. Tamma led her and Lug to a small booth at the very corner of the pier. A small crowd had gathered. They were all focused on a discussion with one another rather than the merchant running the stall.

Tamma made her way through the crowd and stopped in front of the table. The merchant that owned the stall lifted his head up from his goods, smiling upon seeing a familiar face looming over. "You're here later than usual," the man said in a serious yet weak voice. As he looked up, his thin white hair almost disappeared against the bright sunlight.

"Sorry, Donny. We had a rough encounter on our way here."

"We?" the old man asked. His head turned towards the Miwah and Lug. "Oh, that girl?"

"Yeah, her names Miwah. Found her in the forest after she wandered into one of my traps."

"That effective of a hunter, huh? You're even catching people now?"

"Sure, Donny," Tamma chuckled. "But my friend is very hungry. She's only had a few pieces of forest rat since she landed here.”

"Poor thing," the merchant said. He brushed off the sand and dirt from his raggedy brown top and panned his hand across the table. An assortment of sandwiches wrapped in paper covered the top of the table. Miwah stepped closer, eyeing her options as she panned her view from one side to the other.

"Anything catches your fancy?" Tamma asked.

"I do not want anything too pricey," Miwah said as she looked down at a sandwich with lettuce and thin strips of carrot rolled together between two slices of dark brown bread. "But that one looks good."

"You heard the lass," Tamma said to the vendor. "How much is that one going to cost?"

"I'll part with it in exchange for that brillick of yours. He'll do more good feeding sailors than trying to convince him to haul around all your stuff."

"Funny." Tamma gave Donny a phony smile. "Really though. How much for that one?"

"Seven hundred."

"Asking a lot for a sandwich that's mostly glorified grass, eh?" the hunter said as she opened her coin pouch.

"Gotta make a living somehow."

Miwah put one hand in front of Tamma. "If it is too much, I am fine withing picking something else."

"We're not being serious Miwah. This is just how us merchants talk. Guilting. Pleading. Bargaining. Anything to stretch out the values of your products. Isn't that right, Donny?"

"Aye."

Tamma counted out the necessary coins and slammed them down on an empty section of the table. The vendor jutted his head forward, sliding the coins off the table and onto his hand. He lifted up a small gold coin and tilted back and forth against the sunlight.

"You know my money's good, Donny. How many times have we done business?"

With his lips pursed, the sandwich merchant looked at Tamma with squinted eyes. "Can't be too sure anymore these days. Counterfeiters have been getting better at forging real Remcroft coins. I've had a few come into my possession and it got me into some trouble with the Farrowport authorities." Placed the coin into a box behind him. "But these coins are good."

Tamma nodded her head in the direction of the sandwich. Miwah reached down and grabbed it by the paper. She gave the seller a bow. "Thank you."

"You should be thanking your friend over there. She's the one that paid seven hundred for a leaf sandwich!" Donny started to laugh hysterically, to the annoyance of Tamma. She joined in the laughter with a disingenuous laugh.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Just hand me the usual." Tamma took out some more coins and plopped them on the table. The old man spread out the coins across the surface and moved his head from side to side. "Those look genuine." He then picked up a wrapped roll and handed to her. "Enjoy."

"Thanks, Donny."

Tamma turned around and waved at the merchant before heading back towards her wagon. Lug stared at the sandwiches in the women's hands, his tongue sticking out of his mouth and dripping saliva. Miwah paused to look at the giddy brillick.

"Don't let him fool you again," Tamma said as she unwrapped the paper that covered her roll. "If you feed him that sandwich, I'm not buying you another one."

"I apologize if I made you buy the wrong one."

"You didn't. Donny just likes to mess with me. I do the same to him whenever he buys meat from me."

"Farrowport has quite the interesting culture." Miwah bit into the sandwich, making an audible crunch as her teeth sank into the crisp lettuce.

"Is that your way of saying Xiwaoans have more manners?" Tamma paused mid bite to glance at Miwah.

"You said it. Not I." Miwah took another bite of her food.

"I'd believe it. Your people tend to be courteous despite being formidable warriors."

"If only we would focus all of that energy into something other than the war."

"I get where you're coming from. Back at my old home in the Bahnwan Islands people are fed up with all the fighting. And we don’t even have an allegiance with either side. Too many causalities have gotten caught in the middle."

Miwah sighed. "If only I could count how many times I have heard someone say that it will be over soon."

"Exactly!" Tamma took another bite of her sandwich. "Unfortunately, there's just too much at stake. For both sides. I don't care who wins, just as long as it ends. Although I'm sure you've got a preferred side in all this."

"At this point, whatever options results in the fewest Xiwaoan deaths, I am more than happy with."

Both women continued their meal in silence, staring out at the ocean. The sound of the crowds chatting soon faded as the calming rhythm of crashing waves caught their attention. Tamma finished her sandwich first and wadded up the paper that came with it and chucked inside her wagon. "How's your food, Miwah?" she asked as she sorted the contents of her cart.

"Tasty." She put her hand over mouth and brushed a bread crumb off her lip.

"Glad you liked it. But now it's about time we start making money."