Accept.
“And you both…” she paused, her gaze on the girl.
It was as if she, too, could sense that echo. That subtle shift. “Mudtown, at night? It’s best not to be out too late.”
Kael’s hand instinctively went to his club-hammer. But Yareeth, stepping forward, her posture a quiet shield against whatever danger the merchant woman had seen in his face, his gaze. “We will,” she said, accepting the challenge. He liked the way she met the woman’s eyes. Not fear, not defiance. An acknowledgement, of the risks. And the rewards.
Yareeth took the scroll. He didn't want to go back into the realms, not yet, not so soon after the last battle. His body still ached, the phantom touch of the Blightmaw’s poison lingered in his muscles.
But as she turned to him, a question in her gaze, the shared purpose eclipsing her sorrow, her loss. “Shall we?"
He could only nod, his pulse quickening, excitement mingling with dread. They had come so far.
“But we’re also looking for a few things as well.” Kael spoke the thought, surprised by his own boldness, by the new clarity, but his focus on their surroundings. “A drying rack, a few herb pouches, and another backpack, some needles and fabric… and a knife.” He added the last with a wry smile, hoping to lighten the moment. “I forgot last time we went to the market.” But there was a vulnerability, and he saw the way she…
Yareeth’s snort of amusement was a balm.
He looked away. The memory of her dagger, the way the merchant had cheated her. She needed a proper weapon, something that fit her hand, her strength.
“Perhaps… a trade, then?” The old woman’s offer. They sold the coarse hides and two of the Shadowfang teeth. Yareeth pulled out the remaining herbs she had carefully wrapped, and offered those up too, keeping some back, the rarer ones. Kael watched, mesmerized, as she transformed, her words flowing with a practiced ease that amazed him. Her instincts sharpened in a place where he still struggled. It made him… proud, yes, that was the word, of her progress. And when the woman's gaze settled on him, he sensed an appraisal, a deeper understanding of what was unfolding, “You've found yourself a good partner, boy.”
“I know.” It felt like more than that.
He shifted his weight, uncomfortable with the attention. He knew she saw it. It was as if… they were connected, their thoughts, their emotions, the language she’d spoken so beautifully, a secret whisper shared. He watched, the awe hidden beneath a casual swagger.
Judgement +1
Persuasion +1
Merchant +1
Negotiation +1
Resource Management +1
They left the merchant's stall, their coin pouch a reassuring weight in Kael’s pocket.
They had the supplies. They had a plan.
They wandered further into the market, their steps slower now, as the initial urgency receded. It was the warmth of the torchlight, the hum of the crowds, that settled upon him, pushing away those old, familiar anxieties that used to haunt him here. He felt himself relaxing a little. The air, thick with smells, and a hundred faces—none he recognized, another layer of reassurance against his Mudtown past, his crew’s betrayal.
But as they moved, he felt her eyes on everything. On every stall, on every customer haggling, on the groups of men in ragged coats that he’d learned to avoid.
“What is that?” She whispered, tilting her head toward a display of shining, silver-edged weaponry. She reached out, her claws brushing the cold, smooth surface of a curved sword, its blade reflecting the flickering candlelight.
“It's… It's beautiful. But how do they even make something like this, in this place?” She couldn’t understand, he realized, her confusion an echo of her tribe’s simple tools, the intricate woven patterns of her lost home. They’d bartered, but rarely with this… this refined greed.
“It’s not from Mudtown,” he explained. He remembered Taris’s lessons. Kaszai was more than just its slums. A world of luxury beyond its shadowed edges, a different game.
“The steel, the craftsmanship… it’s imported, I think. From… Well, from the Empire. Beyond these walls. It’s valuable. More than we can even imagine, right now.” Kael flushed with embarassment. He knew so little about the Empire outside of the slums of Kaszai, or what lay beyond the Empire.
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Kael glanced around the Market of Shadows, its shadowy corners. This place felt… different, now that she was there. Not less dangerous, not exactly, but the darkness wasn’t as suffocating as the emptiness he’d carried since the creature’s attack.
Yareeth’s tail swished as her eyes traced the edge of the blade, then her gaze met his, a challenge, a warmth, a flicker of understanding that mirrored his own thoughts.
“Maybe… someday,” She whispered.
Maybe. They still had a long way to go. And they still had realms to traverse, creatures to slay, a new kind of power to unlock, a delicate balance to navigate. And somewhere within that understanding, within that whispered promise, he knew they'd find it, that strength that went beyond the numbers, that transcended the System’s cold logic.
----------------------------------------
The rhythmic clang of the blacksmith’s hammer, a steady, comforting presence amidst the cacophony of the market, faded as Kael and Yareeth drifted towards the quieter stalls at the edge of the square. A wave of exhaustion, delayed but insistent, swept through him.
He glanced at Yareeth, noting the slight droop to her shoulders, the way her scales seemed a bit less vibrant in the dim light. They'd been through a lot, the battles, the near-death experience, her first experience bartering… He still hadn’t told her the truth.
“One more thing, then we can get some food,” he said, his voice a rough whisper against the insistent murmur of the marketplace, her tail twitched in response, and he smiled, their unspoken agreement a new kind of language. She’d found the knife stall a few rows over, a chaotic jumble of metal nestled between a vendor selling what looked like… pickled slugs? And another peddling dubious charms against curses, he was learning. The smells…
The knife stall’s owner, a wiry man with a perpetually bored expression, barely looked up as they approached. “Looking for something, or just browsing?” he muttered, his words a tired refrain, a shield against the endless flow of customers who pawed through his wares but rarely purchased anything of value. His gaze, however, sharpened, a gleam of interest flickering in his eyes. A skilled hunter could tell—this was the right kind of buyer.
Yareeth ignored the man's dismissive tone, her sharp gaze scanning the assortment of blades laid out before her. Her claws, dull, a reminder that she had been using them to pry apart those insect shells, the blood, and the fear.
“That one.” Her words, soft but firm, as she pointed to a sleek, curved dagger, its blade a dark, polished steel, its handle wrapped in worn leather.
He knew instantly. This was her weapon. The one he should have seen before.
"The Serpent's Kiss." The vendor picked it up. The name, he whispered it with a reverence that made Kael’s own fingers twitch. A weapon for those with coin, or connections, not a Mudtown stray’s tool. He’d considered trying to steal one, back then. Before the Shard’s power, before he’d learned the real cost of crossing those lines.
"Fine steel, this one," he purred, stroking the blade with a calloused thumb. "Perfectly balanced. Perfect for a hunter." His gaze shifted. It lingered on Yareeth, her scales a dull shimmer against the backdrop of rusted metal and worn leather. His eyes widened slightly. A mix of surprise, and then a greed that echoed Kael’s own.
“Maybe a trade, then?” He held out the three sharp teeth he’d been carrying. “And… this.” He felt a shiver as the pair of iron shard’s coldness hit his palm. Uncommon. Valuable. But she needed this more. A gift, not an obligation. This connection. It was growing, he was terrified of it. But he’d already made his choice. The bargain was made.
The vendor hesitated, then with a snort and a muttered agreement, the dagger and his goods exchanged hands.
“You will learn to use it,” He whispered.
Her fingers gripped the handle.
Equipment Acquired:
Steel Dagger (Common)
A sleek, curved dagger, its blade a dark, polished steel, its handle wrapped in worn leather.
She looked up at him, a grin, then pulled her blade, the whisper as it slid free. “Maybe I already know.” She moved gracefully, each step fluid. And as the vendor’s eyes widened, a wave of something—respect? Fear?—swept across his weathered face. They left the stall, the man’s gaze lingering on her. It wasn’t desire. He felt the relief, her strength a subtle reassurance against his own growing apprehension.
"Just one more thing…" Yareeth was already browsing the stalls, a meticulous practicality driving her as her gaze settled on a bundle of dark, rough fabric. “For bandages.” She was thinking ahead, her realm's influence. It made him wonder, what those healing skills might translate to now that the system had claimed her.
He knew it would be a while longer. This market, it wasn’t a place he enjoyed, the constant reminder of how he’d survived those empty days before the realms. But he was different now. There was a confidence, a lightness, the memory of their shared victory warming him. And as they finally turned to leave, his heart thrummed, not just with the Shard’s power, but with a warmth, an appreciation. He’d almost forgotten. That feeling of… trust.
“Ready now." They shouldered their packs and stepped back into the bustling heart of the marketplace, the crowd pushing and pulling at them. It was easier now, navigating the press of bodies. He felt her warmth against his arm, her scales brushing against his leather tunic as they maneuvered through the narrow alley.
As they turned a corner, a figure materialized before them, as if he’d been waiting for them, a shadow detaching from the deeper darkness of a nearby alleyway, the way he moved. It was unnerving, but he knew this dance, too. The way power shifted, in the shadows.
This one was different.
“You’re the one who sold me that Grotto Maw Heartblood.” The words, a low murmur. But the voice was unmistakable, the authority in his tone echoing through Kael's memories.
The man’s face was partially obscured by the hood of his cloak. The shadows played across his features. His eyes were sharp, an intensity that pinned Kael to the spot.