Private Tales A Trade for the Trader

[Rúna Skógr]

​

---

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months spent out at sea with few stops along the way for essentials and trades. The sea was a vast wide open wonder full of new discoveries, adventures, opportunities, danger but most importantly - Silence. A mixture of everything she desired most in life. Of course, there were a select few in her crew that could be found complaining about being upon the waters for too long. Rúna would remind those few that they were allowed to look for employment elsewhere but the likelihood of them finding better pay and better treatment were slim.

Through the blighted sea all they encountered was bad weather, not that bad weather wasn’t as dangerous as coming upon a hostile ship. In fact, weather could be highly more deadly than any attack. What helped was having a well trained crew that knew how to react and a captain that knew exactly what to do in most situations and this is where Rúna came in luck. The ship had taken on water during these storms but with fast action and shifts taken the problem was quickly diverted.

The Ra Gnamh Sea held Teth, the city of rogue pirates. The waters were safe enough here, there were few ships that ever wished to cause too many problems with so many others around. Never a fair fight when it’s not one on one. Far too much at stake when you have so many others around. Barters were made with a select few for information and safer travel to her desired destination.

Onto the Gulf of Liad - The ship dropped anchor just off the shoreline of Lazular, a well known trade city, a very wealthy trade city. Yet, even Lazular wasn’t her destination but close. Rúna had her crew pack multiple different objects, fabrics even, that she wished to bring with them off the ship. Once they reached Lazular, a room was acquired for safe keeping of these belongings and for the select few of her crew that had come along with her.

Now, let’s go have some fun.

It was a well deserved night of drinking, dancing, singing, enjoying each other's company and the company of others - even if some woke the next morning with a slight hangover. It was rather disappointing to Rúna that there were some in her crew that couldn’t handle their alcohol like she could. Nonetheless, the night was enjoyed thoroughly before they set off again. Horses and a wagon had been acquired for this travel on land as she set her sight for Maraan.

Rúna took front and center of their line as they entered Maraan, two others on horseback followed closely behind, then the wagon and finally three others on horseback closed the line. Fingers wrapped around the reins, tugging lightly until the horse came to a stop long enough for her to slip off and begin walking beside the horse. Dark tanned leather adorned her legs, the black leather belt hung on her hips. A sword with its hilt hung at her left hip while two daggers hung on her right. Not to mention the few other weapons she had hidden nicely beneath cloth and leather. Off white cotton fabric clothed her upper half instead of her typical leathers, it was far too warm in these parts to be embellished with too much heavy leather leaving her skin unable to breathe properly.

Be vigilant

Said to her crew as they began to walk through Maraan. Brown locks had been braided, though many stands had already come loose leaving them to flow freely with the soft breeze that gave some relief to the heat. She wasn’t quite sure what or who she was looking for exactly but she knew she would know just as soon as she found it or them.

---

An-her Amentotankhatra

 

[An-her Amentotankhatra]

"Amentotankhatra, Amentotankhatra, mother An-her Sennofre and father Sadiki send their son with wares!" he called in Common, in the hopes of drumming up repeat customers, followed with what was most likely the same phrase in his mother tongue, deep and rolling.

The crowds of Maraan around him were like waves upon the ocean, dunes of sand peaking and falling at the behest of the winds. It was the height of Trade Season, and likely the largest that Maraan's ever-changing population would be before those who were only visitors left again. Many quickly erected paddocks held dozens of animals, some marked and counted for sale, others yet to be unladen of their loads while Traders fussed and fumbled over rugs and grain and shocks of broomstraw.

Tents upon lean-tos upon shelter-halfs packed those spaces in the great expanses of Maraan left expressly for temporary lodgings, many tied open at front and spilling over with spices and seeds and paints and beads. They would be gone not long after their wares were sold and their purchases were packed, and it would be then that Maraan went back to the peace of silence and stillness.

"An-her Salih Amentotankhatra, I bring sailing canvas, jars, curing spice, books, and yet more!"

Salih quite enjoyed returning home during this prosperous time, to help his parents with their heavy items, to walk the streets all day save for quick stops to drink and eat and restock, as his father once did in his younger, swifter years. That isn't to say he could ever stop his father from continuing to do it, but at least Salih's longer walking path meant his father would stay closer to their shop, one of the permanent residences within the city of the Twin Arches.

Salih paused to lift his family banner higher, a landscape of the desert and sky with an iridescent peacock feather emblazoned in the middle. Between the banner, and his head-or-more height over the crowd, he was quite hard to miss. An advantage when the vastness of the crowd often meant it was a sea of fine embroidery or adventuring leathers all blending into one.

"Salih Amentotankhatra, son of An-her Sennofre and Sadiki, brings wares!" he calls again.

Three long rolls of sailcloth, each wrapped with two three-foot-wide, quite long pieces of fabric on each rod, had been shoved between his back and the large pack he carries. Several books had been tucked, spines-visible, into an outside pocket to be read and bought, and no one made to pickpocket them for their height off the ground. A sack of dried fruit and nuts hung from one side of the pack, a scoop priced quite reasonably, and there were a number of items jostling within the pack itself. Only a few were visible from the top.

Salih looked about, and in meeting a friendly face, made sale of a book to a stout Dwarven woman in a floral blockprint tunic, before he moved into a slightly less populated area, and looked about for a new direction to travel. His gaze shifts over and lands on a tall brunette woman, wearing half-leathers and a sword slung at her hip, with a cart of wares and a crew in tow. She didn't look familiar, though she had prepared more for desert travel than many other unfamiliar faces had.

I do not recognize that cloth. You have done well, my friend. You aren't still wearing armour, and you do not bring Kaliti fabric to trade with.

Salih approaches with care, a friendly smile coming to his face. His long, tan-furred camel legs and wide, desert-travelling feet easily seen alongside his gently swaying, tufted tail, as he wears short linen robings, and his sirwal end at his knees. He stops a few strides away and bows his head, touching his forehead with a knuckle before extending the hand towards her.

"I hope to meet well, my friend. I am An-her Salih Amentotankhatra, son of An-her Sennofre and Sadiki, of Maraan. May I know of you?"

---

Rúna Skógr

---

(sirwal = harem pants, essentially)

 

[Rúna Skógr]

Rúna was not new to the trade markets, even before her mother passed, she’d joined on many of her excursions. She could even remember as a young girl looking up at her mother while she and another trader haggled prices and her mother looking down at her with a wink. Her mother had been one of the best-known traders, however, not the cheapest. She knew what her pieces were worth and would not take any less then her asking price. Rúna had taken all she’d learned from her and grew on it. Familiarizing herself with certain traders who did nothing but undercut others, who gave unrealistic stories of how they had acquired their pieces just to sale them for a much higher price then what they were truly worth. Unfortunately, there were so very few traders who were fair and did what was best not only for the customer but for other traders as well.

With all those years on the ship, it had never been brought this far. However, Rúna was far more adventurous than her mother ever had been. Sure, it got her in a ton of trouble from time to time but for Rúna, there was no place to call home anymore other than the ship. Exploring was all she had left and until that isn’t enough for her, that’s all she planned on doing. Maraan was a beautiful place, in its own sweltering way she thought to herself. Grays scanned the sands and the far too many tents that had been set up, some still in the process of doing so. A crowded market was usually one she avoided at all costs, yet here she was!

Many voices echoing each other’s as they all spoke of having many amazing items for sale, rambling off just about every piece they had. One mistake Rúna had learned long ago, never spout off everything you have to offer. The less you speak of your pieces, the more interested the serious buyers were. It sounded backwards but it always worked. It was up to each trader to sell their items however they wished; she would not interfere with how any chose to do it. They were all too set in their ways to listen anyway.

Lifting a hand up to rest upon her brow, using it to shelter her view from the sun allowing her to see everything without the sun washing it out. She wasn’t sure who to start with and who to avoid, though it was likely she would avoid more then half of them. Lowered her hand, letting her arm come to rest at her side and fingers curling around the pummel of her sword, always at the ready. Rúna would catch movement off to their side, moving closer to the group. Turning just in time to see the satyr bow causing a lifted brow and a look of confusion. She was sure it was how he greeted everyone but she sure as hell wasn’t used to being bowed to.

She didn’t leave his hand empty for too long before hers accompanied it, her grip more on the tighter side then others. Not many women traders were taken seriously, putting some strength behind something as simple as a handshake seemed to help, even if just a little. “Rúna Skofr” She said before releasing her grip. “It’s a pleasure An-her Salih Amentot” she paused trying to remember how to say it, knowing full well she was going to screw it up anyway. “khatra” Yep... “What can I do for you?” She asked. She wasn’t normally approached while looking, maybe this was a good sign and she could do business quick enough to get out of the sun that was very much in the process of baking her skin. She was not at all used to such hot weather and it showed.

---

An-her Amentotankhatra

 

[An-her Amentotankhatra]

Salih nods as the woman takes his hand, shaking quite firmly, and he mirrors the pressure in equal, no more than necessary, then releasing the grip. It always surprised him how frequently the peoples of other lands tended to respond to his form of greeting with a shake of the hand, whether they mirrored his motions or not.

“Rúna Skógr.” she said in self-introduction, before stumbling over his own name, and Salih couldn't help but smile kindly in response.

"Amentotankhatra. But you may certainly call me Salih, if I may call you Rúna? I have no hope for Sch, ah, Scor-geer."

Salih paused momentarily, removing the sailcloth and pack from his back to set it down at his feet. He leans to look a bit more closely at Rúna's wagon of wares, before looking back to her again.

"Where do you hail from, my friend? You come prepared."

---

Rúna Skógr