- Influence
- 711.00
Altogether, this place was a different kind of jungle. Bully was loaded with peril, noisy, and its markets were occasionally hot and sticky with a dash of poison. Kinza was glad it wasn’t landlocked, accustomed to the sound and smell of the sea. What fascinated her most, as much as it was disconcerting, was how many beasts were in one place and the variety of goods available. Her parents had drilled into her to keep her gilders safe and warned her of scams. There was a lot to be said for experience, but she remained wary alongside her excitement. The food smelt amazing, whether her stomach would agree on it later or not; the melting pot of cultures a delight.
She found what she was looking for, a haberdashery stall. There would doubtless be more high-end shops elsewhere, but cheap sewing supplies and fabrics would serve well enough for lower naval rankings. Items for sail repairs would surely be covered under a ship’s own budget, so Kinza sought basics for patching and making a few simple items for herself and her brother. Lorcan was off doing a little bit of his own shopping, insistent that he could survive this place without her for a short while. They would need to be independent once under the orders of a captain anyway. So long as they ain't reckless with my brother’s life.
“Twelve gilders,” said the weasel stall owner.
“Yer wot?” Kinza scoffed. “That’s robbery, that is. Lookit the weave in this, yer lucky y’ain’t been hounded off. Four gilders. Five if’n ye throw in this thread.”
She found what she was looking for, a haberdashery stall. There would doubtless be more high-end shops elsewhere, but cheap sewing supplies and fabrics would serve well enough for lower naval rankings. Items for sail repairs would surely be covered under a ship’s own budget, so Kinza sought basics for patching and making a few simple items for herself and her brother. Lorcan was off doing a little bit of his own shopping, insistent that he could survive this place without her for a short while. They would need to be independent once under the orders of a captain anyway. So long as they ain't reckless with my brother’s life.
“Twelve gilders,” said the weasel stall owner.
“Yer wot?” Kinza scoffed. “That’s robbery, that is. Lookit the weave in this, yer lucky y’ain’t been hounded off. Four gilders. Five if’n ye throw in this thread.”
