The vendor woman grins from ear to ear–quite literally, in this case. She's clearly what we would call a hobgoblin, and they're notoriously hard bargainers, which is why they're so successful in these sorts of places and bigger markets. She's stout but not very short–I'd put her almost the same height as I am, though it's somewhat hard to tell since she's leaning against a chair and not standing up completely straight. Her skin looks almost oily, with a greasy-looking sheen over her olive-green skin. Her eyes are more rounded than anything, giving her dark, beady eyes a rodent-like look. Her dark hair is pulled back into a pair of ponytails as along the very center of her forehead, and trailing back towards her spine is a fin-like appendage, almost like a sail fin or something of the sort. Each spine of the sail-fin on the top of her head is tipped by a sharp talon, making it the most dangerous-looking natural mohawk I've ever seen.

Her voice is deeper than expected when she speaks to me, with a tenor like someone who had smoked heavily for forty years.

"Well, hello there! You can call me Terri–that's Terri with an 'i' if you please–I see you've found some things, good choices, all of them. Can I interest you in a salve that will steady your hands for an hour? Maybe an elixir that will give you cat-like vision? I can give you a good deal!"

I reach up and scratch the side of my head a little, pushing up my knitted cap a little bit. One of my pointed ears peeks out, and the woman's wide mouth opens slightly when she sees it.

"Oooh, one of the faeries; it's been a while since I've seen your kind here. I had someone with sharp teeth about a week ago looking for your kind; it's a shame you missed him. It sounded like he was hiring for something."

"Uh, hello, Terri with an 'i'. I'm Orion. And, uh, yeah, it's my first time here. So how does this work here, exactly?"

"Orion, huh? Never been to one of our markets ever?"

"Well, I have, but I figured maybe every place was different."

"No, no," her gravelly and coarse voice chides, "we all work about the same. We're selling on behalf of others; you pay the fee or trade it. We get our cut, and they get their fee after that."

"Well, Terri, what sort of price are we looking for all of this? I only have trade. I also need to get some of the local currency."

"Weapon, some rope, some ammo for your weapon, and a bag to carry it all in? Not going to be cheap. No sir, not at all. Let me see what you got." She folds her oily-looking arms over her chest, covering the skull logo of some band I don't recognize.

I reach into my pack, pull out several elven-made necklaces, and carefully set them on the countertop, spaced so she can see them individually. Each one glows ever so faintly on the central pendant stone, clearly illuminating the space each is placed on. Terri leans forward and peers at the necklaces, sliding over some spectacles from the countertop to place on her face. She squints and gets close to the necklaces, gazing at them from only a few inches away.

"Nice quality, will sell real well and quick. What else have you got?"

"Those won't cover it?"

"They're nice, and we can profit from each one, but you said you wanted local currency too, so you're going to have to pay up something a little more than sweetheart trinkets, Mister Elf."

I grimace and crouch down, sorting through my bag again. I look at the small pouch of smoking leaf, then change my mind and pick out the carefully rolled-up home decoration instead. I stand back up, placing the rolled painting on the table before the hobgoblin. She uses ragged, pointed nails to very carefully unfurl it in front of her before looking it over appreciatively.

"Did you make this?"

"No, a friend in the Wilds did."

"This'll cover you for about a thousand dollars of local currency. The necklaces will cover you for the weapon, bag, and ammo. Oh, and the rope–what are you gonna need the stupid rope for?"

"Never know what you'll need rope for."

Terri gives me a crooked grin, which looks quite eerie, as her mouth is almost as wide as her entire jawline.

"Okay, Charlie Bronson, you get your stupid rope. You got anything else?" I grin at her picking up on my old pop-culture reference, and nod.

"I do, but I'm not sure I want to trade it for anything yet. It's worth a lot here, so don't even try to pretend otherwise."

"Oh, you goat, you've got me spitting interested now. Come on, don't hold off. Tell me what you got!"

I crouch down so she can't see my face. I grin as I reach into my current backpack. Hobgoblins are hard bargainers, but they can't help themselves when you hold onto the best for last. I learned that early on when I would make trading runs. I pluck out the small leather pouch from inside my bag and stand up, then set the pouch down in front of her.

"Can I?"

I nod my head at her to go ahead. Terri wriggles her fingers out in front of her a few times, almost like it's an instinctual expression of excitement and anticipation. Her ghastly nails delicately untie the cord keeping the pouch shut, and she pulls it open to peer inside. Sure enough, when she reaches in to pluck out one of the blue, purple, and gold-tinted buds of the smoking leaf flower and the pungent yet fragrant scent touches the air, I see her dark eyes almost light up with greed.

"What do you want for this?"

"Well, I don't know. I didn't see anything that special out here, mostly basic things, nothing that spoke to me."

She carefully puts the herb back into the pouch and delicately closes it as if dealing with the most fragile porcelain vase. Her dark, beady eyes focus back at me, and she holds up a finger.

"You want something special? Oh, I have no doubt we have something special for you."

The other two vendors have caught the scent of the smoking leaf and are now just as interested in the haggling as the hobgoblin in front of me is. Terri shuffles down from our current table and gestures me over. I walk over to stand right in front of the table she's at and watch as she hefts up what looks like an old pirate's treasure chest, complete with the fat, old-timey padlock on the front.

She pulls a brass key from seemingly the air in front of her–with the exaggerated flair of a magician's trick–and uses it to unlock the padlock. Once it's removed, she steps back–which causes me to take a half step back, just in case–before allowing the chest to open on its own. The chest creaks open, and from inside, levels of shelves fold out in each direction. There are little trinkets, elixirs of all colors of the rainbow, larger fabrics, strange spikes, and other objects that look like they belong in museums as old ammunition. There are even what looks like spare teeth and fangs.

"I see your eyes lighting up, Mister Elf. See anything you like?"

"I'm not even sure what I'm looking at for most of this. What are these figurines?"

I gesture at a shelf lined with stone figurines of different people and creatures, all ornately and incredibly detailed, down to even a stone ripple effect of fabric.

"Well, these are all people who have to pay off their debts."

My eyes widened a little bit at the hobgoblin woman who gave me the most indifferent look in response.

"These are people?" I gawk without trying to hide it.

"Everybody makes deals, and sometimes people make deals to provide a period of service. Don't judge. You don't know their situation or the agreement they made. Now, these creatures or people are like you or me; they're not your run-of-the-mill humans or animals. I'd let you pick anyone from the top two shelves but not the bottom shelf–those are more expensive. Sorry, kid."

"How does it work?"

"I give you a word that brings them back to life at the size they're supposed to be–so obviously, you don't want to do it downtown Main Street, huh? Anyway, that's pretty much all there is. They're bound to you for the length of their service time, and they gotta follow your orders–it's how it works. Most of these are probably six months to a year, not long, but long enough. You don't have to wake them up until you're ready. Once they take the stone's sleep, they don't know how long it'll be before they're up and working off that debt."

"So these are basically slaves?"

"Ehhh, slaves is a strong word, isn't it? They agreed to this. They're more like, you know, minions that you get temporary control over."

I reached forward and picked up a little stone figurine of what is clearly a wiretail from the bottom shelf, which she told me I couldn't touch at my price. I wonder how a wiretail could have "agreed" to this situation, but I don't voice my apprehension.

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"Familiar with that one, eh? Yeah, I got that a couple of weeks ago. A right trial was to get it all sorted out and put into the stone's sleep. Yeesh, almost took out two gobs with that wild tail of theirs. The answer is no, put it back."

I laughed at the sudden and complete denial, even though I wasn't interested. I lean forward and carefully put the stone figurine back in its secure spot. I gesture at the little bits of fur and fabric with a questioning glance.

"Oh, you'll love these. See this fur? It comes right from the back of a werewolf–yes, an actual werewolf–then someone did some hocus pocus on it. Poof. Now I'm told if you put it against your skin, it makes you undetectable to their kind as long as it touches your skin. Not interested? Not to worry. This fabric here can take the shape of anything the size of a man or so if it can be crafted from fabric or leather. Need a fancy dress suit for a ball? Ba-bam! Got yourself a new designer suit; just don't let people see the tags, huh? Need some more rope? Ba-dum! Get yourself some climbing rope out of fabric, Rapunzel."

"That's pretty cool, actually."

"Of course it is! We love special stuff here! So come on, what'll it be, kid? We got nearly anything you want. Want something to let you understand any languages you hear being spoken? Well, just put on this necklace."

She swipes a leather cord from one of the tiny shelves of the chest, and when she brings it out, the leather cord's "pendant" is a severed, dried-out ear. I grimace at it.

"Yeah, it's a little morbid, I grant you that, but hey, you'll know what those clowns are saying behind your back!"

"Eh, Terri, honestly, I don't know what I'd use that for."

"No problem, no problem. Oh, I know what you'll like, my bowhunter friend. Check this out." She scoops up some of those fang teeth from the box and shows them to me. "See these teeth? Every time you crush one to powder and eat it, you can control an animal you can see. Real handy out in the Wilds, huh?"

"That's interesting, but I don't think that's for me."

The hobgoblin woman huffs at me as if I'm just being difficult now. I return Terri's huff with a shrug, not planning to explain why I said no.

"Alright, alright, you're a tough customer. I see. I'm going to have to work a little harder, right? That's alright, you're making my night!"

"How about–" I lean towards her, and she leans in just as well, preparing to listen, "–something that might be good for dealing with fey." I clear my throat and lower my voice a little further. "Permanent-like."

"Oooh. Hmmm. I don't know, you're talking special-special, and no offense, but the smoking leaf is nice and all, and it's special, but I don't think it's special with a capital 'S,' you understand?"

I lean back from the hobgoblin and nod; then I walk back over to pick up the pouch of smoking leaf like I was going to return it to my pack.

"Now hold–hold on a bit there, Joe. I might have something to tickle your fancy. In fact, I got just the thing for a fancy elf like yourself. Let me go get it!"

The hobgoblin woman calling herself Terri closes the chest on the table next to us, then uses the magical padlock to close it again. She removes the chest from the tabletop and then shuffles around inside what looks like a simple purse-sized bag before removing a tray holding various rings. I tilt my head at her and give her an unimpressed look.

"Now, hold on, you haven't even been told what some of these do! Come, come, take a look. See if any of them speak to you."

I exhale like the hobgoblin is starting to get on my nerves. Terri isn't, but she doesn't need to know that; this is all part of the trading game, and I rather enjoy it. I finally walk over and lean against the table slowly, fixing her with a serious-looking stare before gazing down at the beautiful, ornate rings before me.

"Now, you can't get the rings on the right, but any of the left ones… I'd do a one-for-one trade on."

I gaze over some of the rings and swear I can hear a soft murmuring in the back of my mind. I don't want those, so I immediately put them out of my mind. I wave my hand slowly over the tray on the left side and then stop suddenly. A weight rests in the air, right above a ring, almost like it's gently tugging at my hand to select it from its tray prison. I slowly pick out the ring and turn it over in my hand. It's a silver metal ring with a decorative inlay around what looks like an elegantly designed head of a panther or puma in a reflective black stone with flecks of color. It's almost mesmerizing–the longer I stare at the depths of its pearlescent colors, the more I want it.

"What is this one?"

"Oh, I like that one, yes, that's a good one! Any time someone within a few hundred feet means to do you bodily harm, it starts to vibrate. The closer they get to you, the more it warns you. It glows a soft red around the eyes and ears when they're within a few feet. Real handy for an elf who finds himself in trouble sometimes, wouldn't you say?"

"I like it. This'll do–"

"–Alright! That's what I like to hear–"

"–But I want an additional five hundred cash, too. You didn't let me finish."

The hobgoblin fake hisses like I'd insulted her by tacking on another thing. She hems and haws but ultimately starts to slide the tray of rings away into the same casual-looking bag she put the entire chest into, not but a few minutes prior.

"Fine, but only because what you have is a hot item. Lucky you."

I slowly turn the ring over in my hand, looking at its craftsmanship before slipping it onto the index finger of my left bow-holding hand. It fits snugly, perfectly and almost feels like it relaxes the muscles of my hand, though it's possible that I just made up that feeling in my mind.

"Oh, before I forget: it's called Cogar Oscar, the ring, I mean."

I nod to the hobgoblin woman once again.

"Thanks, Terri with an 'i'. Handshake deal?"

"Handshake deal."

The goblin spits right onto the center of her palm and then holds out her oily, greasy-looking, and now spit-on palm to me. I spit on the center of my palm and then shake the woman's outstretched hand. She wipes her hand back on her pants, and I do the same. She plucks out a small box of what turns out to be cash and then counts out fifteen hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills–some looking fresh and almost untouched, others looking ragged and old–but currency is currency. Terri slaps a band around the amount and then slides it across the tiny trading table towards me to complete our deal.

"Be safe out there, mister hunter-elf-boy! Make sure you come back sometime!"

I pick up my new bag, the five-arrow quiver that hooks to the compound bow, and the boxes of the broadhead arrows to go with the compound bow. Lastly, I loop the "stupid rope" around my chest. I shift out of the way and crouch down to sort my items. Aria finds me as I'm moving items from my older pack to the new one. She's chewing on what looks like a fruit and starts to watch me without saying anything.

I empty my pack and sort it into the new one. Then I carefully take out five arrows, screw on their broadhead tips and hook them into the quiver before fixing it onto my new compound bow. Aria tilts her head down at me while I continue to add the broadhead tips onto the rest of the arrows that aren't in the quiver.

"Can you take that into the Wilds, Orion?"

"Not sure, really; some things make it into the Wilds, but others don't. This is just an elaborate pulley system, right? There's not any electronics or anything like that. It should be okay, I'd like to think. But if not, oh well."

"How much currency did you get in total?"

"Fifteen hundred."

"Not bad, that should do okay for our time here."

While talking to Aria, I carefully make sure that the small-ish compound bow fits easily into the space created for it on the backpack. It fits perfectly, and as I sling the new backpack to my back and over my shoulders, I stand up. I reach up to test how quickly I can pull the bow from the bag in the event I need it, and Aria notices the glimmer of the ring on my finger.

"New trinket."

"Yeah, I had something extra to trade for a little special, so I did."

"Cursed?"

"Nah." I hesitate–I said that, but I don't know for sure. "Don't think so, anyway." I clear my throat, then stand up to my feet and look about for Khalil, plenty fine with a change of subject matter.

"You get anything good, Aria?"

"Only two things, and this."

"What's that? A rotten apple?"

"Hogsvine fruit."

I give her an inquisitive look, as I've never heard nor seen the fruit before. From what I can see, it's a muddy-brown fruit about the size and shape of an apple with kiwi-like hair on the outside. The fruit inside of the skin is a bright, blood-orange color.

"I have not had one in ages; I indulged a little, too."

I laugh at her dismissively saying that in classic Aria style. She doesn't seem to understand why I'm laughing, which makes me snicker for a few more moments.

"Not sure what is funny. I will not be able to sleep for days, which is not bad for us right now. The alternative effect is that my skin will be tougher. The downside is that I will need to sleep all day and all night in a few days."

"That's honestly crazy."

"It is tasty."

"I don't want any, I'm good."

"I was not offering any to you, Orion." She takes a massive bite of the vividly blood-orange colored fruit's internals to make her point. I smirked at her and then turned my eyes towards Khalil, who was slinking toward us.

"Hey, ready to go?"

"What's up, guys? I'm pretty good to go. Did you guys get anything good? I see Ori got a bow. New bag looks like too."

"Aria got a couple of things and a 'Hogsvine fruit,' which she will not share with you, so don't even ask. What about you?"

"Didn't have much to trade, so I got a little cash–so I can get my flaming hot cheese puffs, you judgemental ass–" I start laughing while shaking my head, and Khalil keeps talking, "–And I got uh. Actually, know what, don't worry about it."

"Oh, come on, what'd you get, man?"

"Nah, you're gonna laugh."

"I promise I won't laugh."

"Alright, I got a little coin to help me with cards. Apparently, it'll vibrate a little if I get a hand that'll beat the hands of other people playing with me."

I groan loudly, and Aria even rolls her eyes.

"What?!" Khalil protests.

"Wow, of course, you got something to help you cheat at cards and cash for cheese puffs. I swear, Khalil." I started to laugh but stopped myself since I had said I wouldn't. "Never change, Khalil, never change."

"Dude, whatever, it was a good deal. Wait until I beat the hell out of Gallen at cards and win us a reafan or something some night. You won't be making fun of me then!"

I shake my head amusedly, then start towards the door to exit back to the normal pawnshop. Aria and Khalil follow me at the same pace.

"He's gonna know you're cheating, Khalil, and then he's going to beat your fucking ass. You're a terrible liar."

"Nahhh. I got it all planned out, you'll see."

I continued shaking my head for a few more moments, and we all headed out of the market and back to the shop. A farewell and a thank you are given to the old hobgoblin with the wild hair tending to the storefront, and then we step right out back to the streets of Asheville.