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Business Negotiations

In the early afternoon sun, Fritz held a small wooden crate filled with healing potions. A small cloth had been draped over the top to discourage curious onlookers. The citizens goggled at the two. Marcelle, an already strange sight, led a half-lucid human man through a city of beastkin. Anyone, man, woman or child, who approached too closely was instantly discouraged by Marcelle. The lamia hissed at curious children. Her hard, menacing demeanor stopped anyone from coming too close. Her hands reached for hidden pockets, clutching hidden weapons and ominous potions as she led Fritz to the alchemist.

Fritz's mind thrummed with a constant dull ache. Finishing the potions had physically drained him. He felt like he had run a marathon, followed by a long night of ceaseless drinking. Regardless of his extreme desire to lay down and sleep the day away, Marcelle hooked her arm through his and dragged him out of the inn. Fritz did his best to watch his step, as his vision went hazy. On instinct, Fritz stopped.

"Come on. We're here. Just a couple more steps." Marcelle hissed. Her head darted back and forth as she looked for potential adversaries.

"How long have we been wandering around?" Fritz groaned out.

"Not long, stop being weak. We're almost done."

"I'm tired, Marcelle. Feel like crap."

"Suck it up."

Marcelle pulled him towards a nondescript shop. Its windows were filthy, preventing Fritz from seeing inside. He blinked away his confusion, as Marcelle opened the door and hurried him inside. The shop was tiny. From head to foot, herbs, crystals, animal parts, and different liquids adorned walls, sat on shelves, and hung from the ceiling. A tiny brass bell above the entrance announced the two.

"Welcome, welcome, to Dandelion's shop!" Someone called from the back. Fritz watched a curtain obscuring the employee's section move briefly before an elderly male foxkin stepped out. His hair was white, and his back hunched with age. A small neat beard rested on his chin. A large single bushy white tail trailed behind him.

Marcelle approached the counter. The white haired foxkin eyed Marcelle suspiciously as she approached. Fritz dutifully followed as he carried the crate of potions.

"What can I do for you today, young miss?"

"I am looking to sell." Marcelle began. She motioned for Fritz to place the crate down, on the shop counter.

"We rarely buy. What are you offering?" The foxkin asked.

"Healing potions." Marcelle said. With a dramatic flourish, she removed the cloth covering the vials. The red liquid glittered beautifully in the shop's light. The shopkeeper looked between the potion and the two customers.

"Thirty healing potions. That's quite a lot. How long did it take you?" The shopkeeper asked. Marcelle grinned deviously.

"Not long, I am an expert alchemist. Soon to be one of the greatest this land has ever known" She boasted.

"Uh huh." The shopkeeper stared at her dirty dark robes. "And, uh, are you with a guild, dear? Someone who can vouch for you?" Marcelle frowned.

"No, I am Zola the seer's apprentice. Why should I belong to a guild?"

"Uh huh." The shopkeeper. "And is this your-?"

"Assistant. Fritz is my assistant."

"He doesn't look too well. Is he on something? Huffed too many fumes?"

"He's just tired."

"I see, it must have been a long night." The shopkeeper said with a knowing smile.

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"Long morning." Fritz groaned.

"Ah, I stand corrected." The shopkeeper said. Fritz swayed slightly, he placed his hands squarely on the counter to steady himself.

"What do you say, five gold per potion." Marcelle grinned deviously at the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper, maintaining his composure, crossed his old arms as he attempted to straighten his crooked back.

"Well, what did you say your name was?" The foxkin asked with a polite smile.

"Marcelle."

"Marcelle, I would ask you kindly get the hell out of my shop. I know a scam when I see it. I've been in this business for fifty years. You younglings aren't pulling a fast one on me today."

"Scam?! You think I am scamming you!" Marcelle hissed out. "What stupidity. Potions such as this are beneath me!"

"Dandelion!" The white haired foxkin called out.

"Coming dear!" A voice called out from somewhere deeper in the shop. A white foxkin woman appeared quickly, wiping her hands upon her apron. She frowned as she saw the irate Marcelle.

"What's going on Ferrun? Why's there a human here?" She asked.

"These travellers, are attempting to sell us thirty healing potions."

"Thirty?" Dandelion let out a whistle. "Where'd they come from? They look like shite."

"They do." Ferrun agreed. He crossed his arms.

"The sheer notion that you believe these potions are not legitimate is insulting. How dare you accuse me of deceit." Marcelle quivered with rage. "Such work is already beneath me!" The female foxkin picked up a potion, and inspected it. Swirling the contents she looked at the color.

"She also doesn't belong to a guild. Oh, and she claims to be Zola the Arachne's apprentice."

"Pfaa." Dandelion let out a short laugh. "What a joke. Get out. Now! Before we call the guards." The foxkin looked seriously at Marcelle and Fritz. Dandelion placed one of the healing potions back in the crate.

"Marcelle, can't we just show them a sample? Prove it works? Maybe let them taste it?" Fritz asked.

"We shouldn't have to!" Marcelle seethed. "I am an expert alchemist! They should believe me!"

"Just do it." Fritz complained.

"Fine! We'll give these idiots a show. Now stay still, while I prove the authenticity of my genius!" Marcelle ordered Fritz.

Fritz complied, reasoning the quickest way back to the inn was to finish this business as quickly as possible. Not looking at Marcelle, he stared at the two shopkeepers. Unbeknownst to Fritz, Marcelle, pulled out a knife. The shopkeeper's eyes went wide, as they drew away from the counter. Fritz watched them. His tired mind tried to puzzle out what they were so surprised about. Sure, Marcelle was pretty intense. Her large snake tail could easily crush the life out of Fritz. Not to mention her strange mood swings and general loathing were pretty intense. Maybe Fritz was too used to it now? His brows furrowed as he searched for the right answer. Working in research had let him meet so many interesting people. Maybe he was just used to working with oddballs? Marcelle grabbed his wrist with her strong tail shoving his open hand harder into the wooden counter. Fritz watched the two shopkeepers unable to figure out why they were so scared. Searing pain radiated from his hand. His mind blanked out as primal pain overtook his thoughts. Fritz looked down to a dagger stabbing straight through his palm. Blood bubbled up. Fritz blinked as the pain surged upwards from his hand.

"Illmeter's magic! What the hells is wrong with you?!" Dandelion screeched. Fritz tried to pull his hand back, as he screamed. Marcelle pulled the knife up, as she grabbed a potion. She uncorked the vail with her sharp teeth, before pouring red liquid over Fritz's wound. The potion's red liquid mixed with Fritz's blood. The pain in his hand vanished nearly instantly. A soothing radiating energy filled his own palm as the wound closed. Marcelle grabbed a cloth wiping Fritz's blood away. She yanked him forward to show his palm towards the shopkeepers.

"See? Happy? Not even a scar left. Willing to retract your previous statements? Have you learned your lesson? Do you still doubt my abilities?!"

The two shopkeepers shared a stunned look between each other. Neither was able to articulate the right words.

"What?" Marcelle hissed. "Want me to try the others? Shall I keep stabbing?!"

"That's not necessary! Completely unnecessary!" Ferrun started. He held out his hands to stop Marcelle.

Marcelle barreled forward, muttering curses to herself. She quickly cycled through the cart of potions. With her tail holding Fritz's wrist, she cut and stabbed Fritz's hand before dropping just enough of the potion on it to heal the wound. Fritz tried to resist, but it was futile. By the end, Fritz had lost a lot of blood, and could barely stand straight. The two shopkeepers watched in stunned silence.

The torture eventually stopped. Fritz could barely stand on his own, as he leaned into the counter. His skin looked extremely pale. Underneath her long black hair, Marcelle had a triumphant look.

"Ok. Ok. One gold piece per potion." Dandelion said.

"One? Just one? Were you not paying attention? Do you need another demonstration!? Do we need to go again?!"

"Please.... Make her stop...." Fritz groaned.

"No. No. No." The two shopkeepers said in unison. Dandelion and Ferrus shared a knowing look between themselves. "Fine. Two."

"And throw in some toad mucus, goblin teeth, and undead ichor!"

"Are you trying to bankrupt us?"

"My potions are too powerful for just two measly gold pieces!" Marcelle screeched.

Marcelle and the two shopkeepers kept haggling, as Fritz slumped against the store's counter.