Fable - Ask Seashells: A Golden Opportunity

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Tyrfingr

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Sandvick, Southwestern Eretejva Tundra

Sandvick, a coastal port along the Southwestern coast of the Eretejva Tundra only a few days ride from the Eretejva stone. It saw trade coming and going through its port. Fishermen used nets and traps to bring in everything from fish to crabs to their market. They might lack a good source of ivory in walrus and whales like the ports further North, but they did have more shellfish than grains of sand. Shells littered their sandy beaches. It was a pleasant place to live for any norseman and nordenfiir.

But for Tyrfingr it was proving to be a problem.

"Two fish for fixing yer stand." Tyrfingr said to a hair covered fishmonger.

"As I said, ten coins or two small pearls for two fish." The hairy norseman grunted back.

Tyrfingr paused for two seconds. "One fish and fix yer stand."

"Six coins or a small pearl for each fish. And my stand need no fixin'! Already told ye that." The fishmonger barked back. A hand now on the handle of his idiot club.

Tyrfingr frowned. "The wood is bloating and yer tarp is thinning. I can fix it for fish."

"Coins or pearls. I don't barter for work here." The fishmonger said straightening up his stance. "Ye buying or leaving?"

"I don't have coin or pearls." Tyrfingr responded with a frown.

"Leaving then." The hairy norseman said picking his club up.

Tyrfingr turned and left. A fight of fish wasn't worth it. He looked around the other stalls nearby but got looks. They overheard his conversation. All their stalls could use some work. None of them seemed interested in a fixing. So he just strode off out of the marketplace, stomach growling like a hungry bear at the start of Spring. Would he be forced to beg? Because he wasn't about to steal.
 
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»You there, « »yes you. «

The voice came from a person leaning against a wall, by his side some boxes and cloth. Around his shoulders lay a green tartan cloak and from his belt hung a touchstone and un top of his head a wide straw hat.
»You look like you're worth something.« The elf rose his straw hat, showing his dark blue skin.
 
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When the voice called out, Tyrfingr didn't think it was directed at him at first. But everyone was ignoring the figure. When he looked at them their eyes were on him.

This stranger caught Tyr by surprise. They weren't a norseman or nordenfiir. Dark blue skin and odd clothing. What was this person? So like a damned fool he just stood there staring at the man. No words spoken. No acknowledgement he understood what had been said. Just hazel eyes trying to sort out the mystery of the elf in front of him.

After a bit he said, "Who might you be stranger?"

What might you be?

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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»Ohhhh, please, what kind of sinkhole do you come to not recognise an eastern dark elf,« he snorted without a change in his tone. He seemed unamused.
»I am Faelin K'Abverin, trader, silversmith«
 
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So the stranger was an Eastern dark elf it seems. Interesting. First time Tyr ever met one. What really got his attention though was the mention of them being a trader and silversmith. Good, fine ways of life the elf had there. He could respect it.

With a friendly smile Tyr said, "Tyrfingr. Craftsman and hunter. What can I do for ye?"

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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One corner of his lips rose as he heard his titles. That's something worthwile for his next endeavour. »I'm looking for some materials to upgrade and sell, and you look like you could use some work and money.« Faelin flipped a green coin between his fingers, a currency adapted to bridge trade between the peoples of the north and south.
 
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Tyrfingr raised a brow at the elven man. The talk concerned potential work to make coins. It seemed to involve his skills that he mentioned. The issue was what would be asked of him. Certainly he needed coin or bartering materials if he wanted to eat and have an indoor place to sleep that night. But could he trust this stranger's words?

The coin didn't go unnoticed, and received a frown from the norseman. First time he had ever seen that kind of coin. The color indicated it was not copper, silver, nor gold. Perhaps it was a kind of gemstone like malachite or jade? He didn't even know if it was worth anything around here. A few glances around them and he got his answer. People at the stalls seemed to be eyeing it. Not in the way Tyr had either but in the greedy kind of way people looked at gold.

After a minute of standing there Tyrfingr made up his mind.

"What kind of work are ye thinking of having me do? I'll decide after ye tell me. Otherwise I'll pass."

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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»You seem like a man of keen eye on nature's bounty, if you bring me anything you deem valuable, I'll see to it, that it goes under the right man's eye who will want it. «
Faelin pocketed the coin.
»If it seems luctrative to you to go on a joint venture. You can find me here. If it does not interest you, I'll find somebody else's goods to upgrade.« The elf grabbed for his head, ready to tilt it back down.
 
This man was odd. Not just because of him being an elf. It was the way he behaved and seemed to skirt honesty. There was something he wasn't saying about how he was going to make a profit from what Tyrfingr brought to him. Trade secret perhaps?

The norseman frowned slightly. Not at the man but at his empty pouch. A sever lack of coin was proving to be a major problem for him right now. He had to take the man up on his offer. But what could he even bring him that might be valuable?

His eyes drifted out towards the beach. Shells. He could fill his belly and his pouch.

His gaze went back to the elf. His hand was held out in front of him. "Deal. Hope ye can sell seashells by the sea shore." A slight smirk crossed his lips.

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
Faelin quietly snorted before rolling his eyes.
»No doubt.«

He expected him to return not too long after.
Or at least after so much time as he imagined collecting seashells would take.
Wait what?
Seashells.

The elf furrowed his brow briefly and titled his hat lower.
This might be easier.
 
The deal was made. Seashells for coin. Tyrfingr could easily handle that. Not like he was asked to retrieve pearls from giant oysters or wrestle a nordenfiir to the ground. Those would be difficult, although glorious, tasks to complete.

But right now wasn't about glory. Right now it was about survival. The norseman needed coins to barter and he needed shells to get coins. So off he went to the beach to go collect himself some seashells and something to eat.

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
God knows what he'll bring him, Faelin may need to meditate to get his energy up to properly 'upgrade' whatever the man brought him.
Alas, for now, he'd need to wait and see.
 
Out to the beach the norseman had gone and so out on the beach was where he found himself. It was littered with shells as far as the eye could see. But these shells were not all empty. Just as many were still attached to their other half in life as the two had parted one another.

But this plenty presented a problem. Tyrfingr wasn't going to be able to sell common shells, even by some proxy with a less than honest seeming associate. There was nothing wrong with sell people seashells by the sea side just an issue of who would buy something they could literally pick up whenever they wanted with a short walk down the beach?

While this problem was on his mind a growling of the stomach reminded him of his immediate problem: food. So instead of fussing over what shells to sell he settled on finding things to fill his belly. He knew shellfish but he also hoped maybe for a crab as well.

==========================================

The bounty from the sea had been plentiful this day. Tyrfingr was preparing a fire on the edge of town. Next to his was a small basket he had borrowed had a few crabs in it. They were small but big enough to be mouthfuls each. And he had enough to share if anyone showed up.

The biggest excitement for him however was that he found a few oysters along with the clams and scallops laying out in the tides. They were sitting in pots of salt water. His plan was to eat then later once they had spit up their sand. They would make good a good meal and their shells would be perfect for some light crafting as well. The crab shells not so much.

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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Faelin wondered if the guy would even return, nevertheless, he stood his post, taking in commissions here and there on other silversmithing duties.

Though honest work was hard labour. Why do that when there was easier money to make? Easier, bigger money.
Even if the money came figuratively in 'pelts' and 'antlers' from the Nordenfiir and other locals or from green mun coins that weren't that uncommon around these parts either.
Something worthless somewhere was worth a big buck elsewhere.
 
The preparations for the shellfish was taking a bit. They didn't want to spit up their sand, and Tyr knew they had sand in them. Was impossible for them not to given he picked them up out of the sand and tide pools. So he was going to have to settle on the crabs for his meal and save them for later.

After calming his belly, the craftsman picked up his shellfish and the now empty crab basket. The cracked crab shell pieces weren't worth anything to him and the shellfish were still alive so he didn't have anything to bring back yet. Not a great position to be in. He had agreed to the job though and would rather die than come back having not done it or empty handed.

So the norseman went about picking up all the undamaged shiny shells he could find off the shore.

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A noticeable amount of time had past when Tyr walked up to Faelin K'Abveirin with his shellfish bucket in one hand and the basket full of shells in the other. He had added more shellfish to his bucket as he combed the beach. At least he had food for later and the next day now.

Holding up the shell basket, Tyr said, "Got the goods." And then he plopped the basket down near the elf.
 
The elf, of course, had his late-day snooze, considering it's been hours since midday, and his kind always got sleepy around this time as sporadic sleepers.

»Don't scare me so... « He uttered without even appearing to move, with his head still atop his face, covering it up. Scared like what, he barely even made a sign he was alive.

Lazily he removed his hat and leaned forward with his arms crossing over, looking over what Tyrfingr brought.
What caught his biggest interest were the seashells of course. So many. Good for trial and error.
»Ah...splendid, this will be ... « He took the basket, looking them over, feeling some with one hand.
Slightly nacreous, some more than others, just calcium though, weird shiny stones, no, just seaglass. » ...useful to me. «

Looking them over again, he set the basket down next to his small smithy. »I'll need to work this first, and fast before the night-market opens if we're to find any profit today. «
With it, he also took out some smaller files, and a bar of a silverine metal resembling neither iron nor steel and a chunk of a metalloid to go with it.