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.