They stumbled into the market, a chaotic sprawl of stalls and vendors illuminated by a chaotic rainbow of flickering lanterns and torches. The air was thick with the smells of food, both fresh and decaying. Spices, leather, mildew, sweat—the odors assaulted his senses in a dizzying swirl, but the girl, trailing closely behind him, seemed oblivious, focused only on keeping up, her scales a dull echo of the vibrant green he’d first glimpsed.
The lizardfolk girl's eyes darted around the chaotic marketplace, her posture rigid with a tension that radiated from the tips of her claws to the taut muscles of her tail. Every shout, every clatter of metal against stone, seemed to make her flinch. She kept her gaze low, avoiding the human faces around them, her tail curling protectively around her legs. The scent of spices and the acrid stench of waste mixed unpleasantly in her nostrils, a stark contrast to the subtle aromas of her home. To Kael, it was clear she was struggling to make sense of this alien world as they navigated the labyrinth of stalls and shouting vendors.
“Where do we go?” Her words, in the stilted cadence of a new language, cut through the chaos. Her gaze flickered from stall to stall, the Market’s nighttime crowds jostling them, a mix of shadowed figures, haggling merchants, and the ever-present stench of Mudtown life— both familiar and terrifyingly alien. The world was a dizzying, distorted mess.
“We need a buyer,” he rasped, his voice a dry, crackling sound, “someone who deals in… remedies. Healing. Potions. Over there.” He pointed vaguely, his hand trembling. He knew, somewhere in this twisted maze of stalls, there was an answer, but his mind was a fog of pain and desperation, his thoughts as murky as the fog clinging to the marketplace. The familiar shapes of stalls, each one overflowing with bizarre and familiar goods, spun before his eyes. Food, weapons, dubious charms—all useless. He needed a specific stall, one that sold salvation in a bottle, but he couldn't remember where it was.
He staggered towards a nearby stall, pulled more by instinct than logic. The smells of the market, a dizzying blend of exotic spices, sweet incense, and the ever-present stench of decay, assaulted his nostrils.
“Sell…” He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out the teeth. "Sharp Teeth," he croaked, barely able to raise his voice above the constant din of haggling and shouts, a symphony of desperation as familiar as his heartbeat.
The merchant, a scrawny man with a face like a weathered boot, looked down at the paltry offering, his lip curling in a sneer, his gaze cold. He held one of the teeth to the flickering light, turning it over, inspecting it. His eyes flashed with a cruel amusement, the recognition of an easy mark. “This junk? Two bronze. Take it or leave it.” He leaned closer, the stench of his breath— a mixture of onions, ale, and decay—a weapon of sorts, pushing Kael back, his world tilting, darkness creeping in again.
“Two…” It was an insult.
“Two bronze? It’s not enough.” The girl’s voice, sharp, and full of an anger that shocked both Kael and the merchant, sliced through the air. It was the voice of a survivor, a negotiator. She stepped forward, placing a protective hand on his arm, her touch surprisingly strong despite her small stature, her presence radiating an unexpected heat in the face of his own faltering strength. The world sharpened again, her fury pulling him back from the brink.
“They’re worth more. Look closer. Flawless, each one. Sharp. Untouched by rot or disease." The words were harsh, a blend of his tongue and the rasping cadence of her own, yet clear. The merchant’s brow furrowed. He looked again at the teeth, picking them up with an appraising eye. “A little lizardling telling me the worth of wares?" He gave a sneering laugh, glancing at Kael for confirmation of the girl’s foolishness, but Kael couldn't tear his gaze away from her.
He’d never seen this side of her before. There was a strength within her, an echo of the Realm's primal power, radiating through her words.
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“I can leave. I can find another buyer,” she snapped. Her eyes narrowed, their pupils slitted, the scales around them shifting in a way that mirrored the predatory gaze of the creature that had stalked the swamp of her homerealm. A chill went down his spine. She was beautiful, and... dangerous?
“And you’ll lose a generous offer,” the merchant sneered, shaking his head, but he was stalling. He’d seen her anger, her sharp tongue.
The girl continued to haggle, her voice sharp and unwavering, cutting through the noise of the market like a blade. She took a step closer, forcing the merchant to lean back slightly, his sneer faltering as he found himself on the defensive.
“Eight bronze. Not a coin less,” she demanded, her tone brooking no argument. “These are no ordinary teeth. They’re from a Fangstalker, rare even in their native regions. Each one is flawless, not a chip, not a crack, and perfectly preserved. You could sell them for triple that to the right buyer.” She gestured to the teeth in his hand, her eyes never leaving his face, her stare a challenge.
The merchant scoffed, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze as he glanced back at the teeth. “Rare, you say? Hah! I’ve seen better from gutter lizards,” he lied, though his voice lacked its previous conviction. He tried to maintain his composure, but his fingers twitched as he turned one of the teeth over, the movement betraying his interest. He was stalling, weighing his options.
“Maybe,” she shot back, a wry smile curving her lips, “but you’ve never seen ones like these. I can walk away, find someone who knows the true value of what I have.” She tilted her head, the light catching the subtle, iridescent scales along her neck, making them shimmer faintly. “Or you can pay what they’re worth and make a tidy profit. Your choice.”
The merchant’s eyes narrowed, his jaw working as he calculated. He knew he was being played, but he also knew she wasn’t bluffing. He couldn’t afford to lose a deal like this, not with the lean times that had gripped the city.
“Five bronze,” he countered, his voice strained, the words forced out as if they physically pained him. “No more. I’m not in the habit of overpaying for some scavenged scraps, no matter how shiny they look.”
The girl’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. She leaned forward, lowering her voice to a deadly whisper, her words like the hiss of a serpent. “Six. Bronze. You know what these are worth, and you know you’re getting a bargain. Don’t waste my time. Or his.” She nodded toward Kael, her gaze never breaking from the merchant’s, the intensity of it making him flinch.
Kael watched, transfixed, as the tension between them built, a taut, invisible string stretched to its limit. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back, the weight of the situation pressing on him, though he was only a spectator. Her confidence was unnerving, almost as if she were a completely different person, her presence dominating the space between them, commanding attention.
The merchant’s face twisted, a mixture of anger and begrudging respect. He glanced at Kael, then back at her, weighing his options, the teeth still clutched in his bony hand. Finally, with a sharp exhale, he dropped them onto the wooden counter between them, the clatter loud in the charged atmosphere. He reached into a grimy pouch at his belt and began counting out the coins, each one falling with a dull, metallic clink that seemed to echo in the stillness.
“One... two... three...” He muttered, his voice dripping with bitterness as he placed each coin deliberately on the counter, his eyes locked on the girl, as if daring her to demand more. “Four... five... six. There. Six bronze. You drive a hard bargain, but I’ll take them. And you’d better hope they sell quick, or I’ll know who to find.” The threat was weak, hollow, but it was all he could muster.
The girl didn’t even blink. “You’ll sell them within a day,” she said, her voice as smooth and unyielding as polished stone. “And you’ll make more than you’re admitting.” She scooped the coins into her hand, the metal cool and solid against her skin. She turned to Kael, pressing the small stack into his palm, her touch firm, reassuring. “Come on. We’re done here.”
Kael stared at the coins, their weight against his palm a small comfort amidst the lingering tension. He glanced back at the merchant, who was already turning away, muttering under his breath as he shoved the teeth into a small, locked box beneath the counter. The deal was done, the transaction sealed, but the air still buzzed with the remnants of their confrontation.
As they walked away, the girl’s expression softened, the fierceness fading from her eyes, replaced by a quiet satisfaction. “He’s lucky,” she murmured, half to herself. “I was ready to walk. Six bronze is the least those are worth. But it’ll do.”
Kael nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. “Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse, the words feeling inadequate for the surge of gratitude and something else he couldn’t quite name. She had stood up for him, had fought for him in a way he hadn’t known anyone could.