Renalt and Denlo Entering the Peaceful Fishing Collective

Dawn is just on the cusp of breaking, shining its light over the distant horizon, when Renalt and Denlo’s cart rolls past the small fence line that indicates the outer border of the Peaceful Fishing Collective. Renalt smiles, as he had been concerned earlier in the trip that they would arrive in the middle of the watch, rather than nearing its end. Renalt looks around for the phantom hint of movement that he expects to find. This is, after all, a free and independent, under the radar port on an isle with a rather overbearing government. One does not maintain such a status with good luck alone. His gaze scans across the swaying grass on the Collective’s side of the fence. Nothing seems to be moving against the flow, though it is still dark. Renalt suspects that, rather than a lack of alarm system, it is just a method this cart does not trigger, or one that slipped under his notice. Just a curiosity, in any case. Renalt turns to Denlo, “So, my good man, you understand the plan?”

“What plan?” the Elfi’ika asks the musician, “You never have a plan.”

“Lies and slander, my good ser. I just never tell you any of my plans.” Then, after a pause, the slender man finally admits, “Well, not a plan, per se, but an outline of a plan.”

“So, you mean the whole, drink, don’t cause trouble, spend money thing?” Denlo replies, his judgment raining down on Renalt’s implication that it was a plan.

Renalt sighs. “Do not forget the vital part where we wait for a caravan ship or two to stop in.”

Renalt can tell in his companion’s demeanor that, even behind the masked helmet, Denlo is rolling his eyes at him. “Right, I forgot the vital part of your plan, hoping for someone else to solve the problem.”

Renalt smiles wide. “‘Tis a plan that tends to work, if past experience does in fact reflect on the present state of things.”

“Great,” Denlo mutters to himself loud enough for his traveling partner to hear, “I’m on the run with an idiot who thinks the world bends to his hopes.”

Renalt continues to smile, this time adding a shrug to the mix. “Tell me, my compatriot of the road, in a world where the gods can break open the land, and magic was once used to fight back, is it truly such a ridiculous concept, to believe that the world can be changed by hope?”

Denlo thinks a moment, or remains silent long enough to seem in thought at the very least. “Hopes in general, maybe. Can’t disprove it, at least. The hopes of one random, crazy human who plucks strings well, that I doubt.”

Renalt mocks offense at that comment. “I’ll have you know, I pluck strings extraordinarily well. I also can sing and dance quite well. Do not go around selling me short, my good man.”

Denlo can’t help but chuckle. “I do apologize, Ren. What I meant was I doubt the world bends to the hopes of one random, crazy, egotistical human who plucks strings, sings, and dances at bars to make money.”

Renalt smiles and nods. “Much better,” he replies, “But I would just wait and see what is to come, before doubting the fabulous power of this random, crazy, egotistical human’s hopes.”

Denlo shakes his head as the cart finally rolls into the town itself. A young woman is there to greet them. “Good sers,” she says quietly, “I’m afraid nothing is open right now, due to your timing. I can lead you to the stables, assuming you are alright remaining in your cart for the last bit of the evening, at least until the morning bell.”

Renalt smiles, bows his head, then flourishes back. “Of course, my dear lady, we wish to cause no trouble. I do apologize if our arrival disturbed you or yours in any way,” the musician says quietly. He hops off the cart to lead the horses from the front. And, just coincidentally, to walk beside the young lady.

“It was no trouble, though why your cart is coming in the middle of the night is a mystery to me,” she says to the man.

“Well, ‘tis not the middle of the night anymore, ‘tis nearly dawn,” Renalt begins, then answers the lady, “And as far as the nocturnal travel, there be no better way to avoid banditry.”

The young woman looks confused at the musician. “But bandits attack at night?”

“Correct. They attack camps at night, set ambushes on the road during the day. They don’t set ambushes at night, or scout camps for raids by day. Because most people travel by road during the day and make camp at night, so it be just a matter of efficiency on the part of banditry.”

“You are a strange man,” she says.

“I have been told this before,” Renalt admits.

The woman smiles. “I bet. I’m Llarisanni, head of guest affairs in the collective. I apologize you were not greeted by the mayor as well, she’s currently asleep.”

“‘Tis no worry. We will no doubt see her once morn comes. You can call me Ren, and this is Den. I do hope this be not the last time we speak, Llarisanni,” Renalt says as they reach the stables.

“As do I,” she replies with a smile as well, “And please, Ren, you call me Sanni. You’re not using your formal name, after all, there’s no need to use mine.”

Renalt smiles. “Of course, Sanni. Until the next time we speak, my dear.”

“Until then, good ser,” she says, giving a nod to him, then one in Denlo’s general direction, then leaving.

Renalt begins to unyoke the horses and tie them up in the stables. Denlo climbs down off the cart to help. “Really, Ren and Den?”

“They are our names, without being our names. That way you do not have to embarrass yourself by attempting to maintain the Kravlo of it all, but you also aren’t exactly advertising who you may or may not be.” Renalt keeps it vague, with the understanding that they are likely being at least eavesdropped on, if not actively watched.

“Fair enough,” the massive man replies as he heads to the back of the cart. “I’m sleeping in the cart. Since you were too busy failing to flirt with our host, you get to stay on the seat.”

“Rude, my good man,” Renalt says with a smirk. “I was succeeding in flirting, I’ll have you know. Save the brevity of the trip, at least.”

“Whatever you’ve got to tell yourself,” Denlo says, chuckling to himself as he heads to the back of the cart. Renalt climbs back up onto the seats of the cart, lying across them as his nap begins.

They are awoken in the morning by a visit from the mayor. She is a lovely dwarf with an incredibly unwelcoming look on her face at all times. “Misters Ren and Den,” she says, “Welcome to our Peaceful Fishing Collective. I’m Oravlim Garreltimdat. I’m the mayor of this place, at least so far as you outsiders are concerned. What brings you into town?”

“Once when I was traveling with the Caravan v’Olirinia, their navigatrix told me of your beauteous locale, so when I felt an increased unwelcoming presence in the cities of this lovely land, I came to here, to trade, relax, and hopefully come upon a caravan ship with whom I have at least some familiarity.”

“Unwelcoming presence? Are you talking of the Authority Guards marching through town?” Oravlin asks.

Ren nods with a flourish as he slides to the ground. “They tend to make my friends nervous and the people for whom I play stingy.”

“And what will you do here while you wait?”

Renalt smiles. “To be honest, I expect ‘twill not be long, though my traveling companion disagrees with my assessment. Either way, I shall play, purchase things that we may wish to have in the future. Oh, and assuming you have an alchemical reselling specialist, we came upon one of your local fanged leopards on our trip here.”

“Really?”

“Truly, you may check the back if you believe me not. Though Den is in a mood, so be warned.”

“I am not in a mood, whatever that means,” Denlo says quite loudly from the back of the cart.

“See, a mood,” Renalt says with a smile.

Oravlin shakes her head. “Very well. If you wish to play your tunes, there is the docks and the Fisher’s Watch bar, though if you wish to play inside the Fisher’s Watch, you’ll need to confirm with Urnallim Urnallimsen. The shops are all fairly obvious, though if you wish to unload the teeth first, our medicinal alchemist is in a small house at the edge of town, take Potter’s Row all the way to the ring path, head left, then follow the ring until you reach the hut surrounded by a garden.”

Renalt smiles and bows. “Understood. Many thanks for your aid in such matters, Dearest Oravlin.”

Oravlin grunts in reply, before heading off out of the stables. Renalt turns to the cart. “Better throw that corpse over your shoulder already, Den,” he shouts in the vague direction of his traveling compatriot. “I wish to get the teeth sold before our ride inevitably arrives.”

Denlo, leaving the cart carrying the beast’s corpse over his shoulders, grunts grumpily. “So, any time in the next few weeks should be fine.”

“Ye of little faith,” Renalt replies, “Now let’s get a move on.”

“Fine, it will pass some time at the very least,” he admits with a sigh.

Renalt chuckles, “That is truly the spirit. Come now, good ser, let us walk through town to the medicinal merchant’s hovel.”

Denlo sighs once more, this time even deeper. Renalt suspects the large Elfi’ika is wondering why he would ever willingly travel with a man as ridiculous as his current partner. Walking through town, Renalt quickly puts his doubts to rest. Once they reach the ring and turn left, the musician whispers to his companion quietly, “We’re being watched. Five people, two separate groups. Keep that unique, expensive item of yours on you and wrapped up at all times.”

Denlo nods. “Okay. Why two groups?”

“Three options, none great, some less great than others.”

“Which is the least bad option?”

Renalt answers the man honestly. “Miscommunication between different groups in town. Multiple people accidentally put eyes on the visitors. Nothing good, but so long as we are not here for long, should be no problem. Next best is there’s a power struggle going on. They think we’ve got some value. Which could prove trouble for the lying low plan. Worst is a government, either the local city or Authority, has eyes here. And if that one be the case, you best change your mind about the whole world bending to my hope thing, else we will likely be in chains by week’s end.”

“Well, crap,” Denlo mutters as they come upon a large hut surrounded by flowers, beans, trees, and vines. It must be the healer’s hut. Heading inside, they quickly sell the teeth, taking a small fee out of their profit so that the burden of extracting the teeth is placed upon the alchemist, rather than the seller, as it would normally be. With a smile and a bow on Renalt’s behalf, they leave the corpse for the medicinal alchemist to use as they will.

As they come back out, into the fresh late morning air, Renalt sees something on the seas and smiles. “Tell me, dear Den,” he begins, “Do you see what I see?”

“What?” Denlo begins, following the musician’s gaze off into the water, “Wait is that?”

“I believe that be a Caravan ship. Seems our worry is for naught. Because, once more, the world has bent to the hopes of - what was it? - one random, crazy, egotistical human’s hopes.”

Denlo groans. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

Renalt replies only with a chuckle. He’ll let Denlo assume from that what he will.