The Varhian draws numerous stares as she ventures through the Bazaar, following her nose to where butchers and farmers have set up shop with displays of squawking bird forms (ah! Cousins!) and vegetables in various states of preparations – one is advised to be careful before accepting any offers to taste kyootcumber salsa, for instance, unless one has a taste for fire. Still, as Bazaar days go, this one is an even mix of all its own flavors: the heat of the midday sun, the tangs and sweet odors from the restaurants nearby, the fire of the occasional squabble and hot bargaining sessions, and everywhere, the chatter of people.

Near the Varhian, a black-and-orange-and-white Khatta leans over a stand, inspecting the white-and-gray Eeee vendor's wares, as she sells small sausages cunningly tied to form what appear to be little rodentine creatures – much more tasty, one assumes, than actual vermites. A somewhat weary-looking Savanite stands behind him, notably mostly for the scars upon his face and the strength of his cloth-laden arms.

Pulling her wings close to herself, Gwyneth makes her way past a large Khatta. The crowds are heavy today, and she is mostly forced to push her way through people unaware of her approach.

"Ah! How is business?" the Khatta says with a broad smile to the Eeee vendor as he looks over the stream of customers. "I understand there is quite a shortage of the spices that you Eeee so appreciate. I do hope it hasn't inconvenienced you in any way."

The heavy-laden Savanite hides a smirk behind a packet he's carrying for his master. Ah. Ever the one to find opportunity, his master! His ears flick, as he glances sideways to catch sight of the winged Rhian-cross.

The Eeee vendor scowls. "Not so good. Hard to get good e'cheya nuts. This trouble with Babel, if it goes on for much longer, soon prices will be higher. Much too high for ordinary working Eeee, like me. So, you want one? Only ten shekels the bit." She sizes up the richly dressed Khatta, trying to understand why he would be interested in Eeee fare.

Gwyneth looks past a nearby booth, whose annoying hawking vendor continues to try to catch her attention. She has a long journey ahead of her, and refuses to eat the tripe that most airship crewmembers eat. Blissfully, her journey delayed, she has the opportunity to pick up some of the food she needs. Pottery and such do not interest her nearly as much as the grain and fruits they can carry!

Near Gwyneth, a vendor calls out as he sees her wings, "Sugar on a stick! Look at these lovely crystals! Vartans love them! Var – " The kavi looks at Gwyneth, trying to determine why she has such a strange muzzle.

Envoy pokes around some of the stands of Ashdod fruits… but the selection there has also dropped noticeably.

Gwyneth turns toward the vendor. Despite her finicky taste in food, sugar's sweet embrace is ever craved despite the race. She fixes a blue eye upon the kavi vendor, who seems – as most do – interested in her appearance.

The black-orange-white Khatta lowers his voice as he whispers to the vendor, "Oh, no thank you, but I ask because I have… recently come into a small quantity of some Eeee spices. I only make you this offer because I think you are an Eeee of tastes, who understands how important it is to use only the best… "

The Eeee cook looks scandalized, then sets her muzzle as if she had chewed upon something sour, but doesn't want to make too gross a face. "All right. What are you charging, and what have you got?"

"What about Vartans?" Gwyneth asks the Kavi vendor, in a nice way. She smiles curiously, looking at the sugar. She doesn't have a weakness for it, no she doesn't.

Envoy gets another "I'm a merchant, not a farmer" responses to her questions about various seeds and fruits, and lets her attention wander to the crowd.

The Kavi displays his wares to Gwyneth proudly. The sugar has been crystallized onto thin sticks of peeled wood, colored with different fruit juices so they catch the eye prettily. "Ah! Vartans are some of my best customers. They so appreciate the merits of a candy that is not only sweet and delicious to the beak – er, teeth, they also cherish my treats as lovely adornments. See how they catch the light? And all this for only two shekels the stick. Truly, I am ruining myself for your pleasure!"

The Savanite watches in wonder. If it had been him in charge, he would have never understood the seriousness of the circulating rumors … or thought to translate them into a decree to invest in seemingly plentiful cargoes in anticipation of an upcoming shortage – especially with so many perishables involved. He sighs inwardly. After all, he is but a lowly slave, a simpleminded being barely more than a beast. Who is he to wonder at the wisdom of his masters?

Envoy wanders along, and signs, Hello, to the exasperated looking Savanite.

The conversation between the Khatta merchant and the Eeee sausage seller grows more heated rather than less, as the Khatta hisses, "Take it or leave it! You won't find another Yetchy-nut outside of my warehouses."

Off behind some of the booths is a very large Tiger-khatta. He just sits quietly with a group of his 'friends'. All of them munching voraciously on a large chunk of meat. It looks like a Rughrat leg.

The Savanite bows his head slightly at Envoy, but he signs nothing in return. (After all, his hands are quite full.)

Envoy also spots the winged mare that was at the Three Thieves Inn, and notices the glances and stares she gets.

"That's E'cheya nuts," the vendor says back, her muzzle drawn tight over her fangs. "And I'll go out of business before I deal with someone who insults the Eeee culinary heritage so grotesquely!"

Gwyneth feigns disinterest in the sticks, yet it has been oh-so-long since she's had one. Cravings aside, she is still a trader. "I've seen sticks as badly as these go for a half shekel each. What are you trying to pull?" she asks the Kavi merchant.

Envoy tries to get a look at the insulted nuts.

"Ah! But you perceive, prices go up and down, and sugar is harder to find these days," the Kavi vendor explains to Gwyneth as if reciting some formula that he'd heard. "It's 'sociopolitical ramifications' at work. Very expensive ingredients. Time is valuable. Besides… " And he winds up to deliver the crucial argument. "They taste good!"

The tiger's ears perk as the noise from the two squabbling vendors becomes loud enough to reach his ears. He growls something to his companions and they all walk over to join the Eee merchant's booth.

The Kavi licks his muzzle. "Come on, don't you want some?" He snuffles at the stick, as if to accentuate just how delicious sugar on a stick is.

Envoy grins a bit as the word E'cheya brings to mind an Eeee-like knight she knew… who happened to be named Cheyya.

Envoy smiles up at the looming group of carnivores.

The Khatta merchant attempting to sell 'yetchy-nuts' snorts as he leans back and crosses his arms. "Well, I will just see if your competitor… " He looks down the aisle and reads the words off of a sign. "Esakarika… wants to buy them, then. Hah! And then I'll come back in a few days and see if you're more interested in the idea, neh?"

"Is this little kitty botherin' yuh, lady?" The tiger asks the Eee as his companions start to circle around like a looming pack of wolves.

Gwyneth bites her lip, and looks away from the tempting merchant. No child is she to be so easily persuaded. "I might give you three quarters for one of them, and that's only because I feel you need the extra income!"

The burdened Savanite notices the approaching (and possibly angered) group … and … well, too late to warn master. (He curses himself inwardly at his slow reactions.)

The Kavi says, "Well… Two shekels for three? And that is only because I hope you will come back very often – eh?" He perks his ears up and looks over at the gang. "Ut oh. Bad news. That's Gahran's lot. Very annoying."

Gwyneth looks behind her, following the Kavi's gaze. "Gahran, who's he?" she asks.

Envoy takes the opportunity to study the larger feline. She's never seen a tiger-Khatta before.

The cheetah slave shuffles his cargo a bit in his arms … perhaps to get a better grip … perhaps so that if he has to drop something suddenly to free his arms, he'll cause as little damage to the contents as possible.

The Eeee vendor umms. She stutters, "Well, he was just trying to sell some yetchy – er, e'cheya nuts. No harm done, really… "

"Even if he IS a boor of a Khatta who doesn't understand a bit of the proud Eeee culinary history that he's trying to sell," she snaps.

Envoy looks at the nuts again. She didn't know Eeee had the ability to store history in nuts. Perhaps some of these stalls are actually book stores?

Gahran, the tiger, and the largest in the group sneers at the Khatta. "Missus bat gives us a discount with every meal." He growls, although it's probably obvious that he doesn't get that discount because of his manners. "We wouldn't like it if she had to go out of business… maybe you should reconsider your deal?"

The Kavi near Gwyneth explains, "He's one of the bored lots who live near the Noble Quarters. They come down here to raise a little ruckus now and then, but the guards won't do anything unless they actually *see* a problem, and they've gotten very careful not to do anything in front of the Zelaks. Very bad people to get in way of."

The black-and-white-and-orange Khatta stands his ground and looks at his Savanite slave meaningfully. "Hah! My manservant could thrash the lot of you. Don't think to threaten an Oresta!"

Envoy asks Gahran, "Excuse me sir, but how much do you mass, and how much do you eat every day?"

Whether or not he's capable of such a feat … presentation means a lot. X stands as straight and looks as stern as he can manage. If his master wants to pick a fight … that's not the decision of a slave.

The Kavi whispers to Gwyneth, "Anyway, not my business. So, about those sugar sticks? You want one, right?"

Gwyneth turns over to the Kavi. "I know the type," she mentions. She keeps an eye on the troublemakers from afar. This is the type that often becomes airship crew, and end up being incarcerated or worse while the captain tries to get bail for them. *If* they are lucky that is. "Anyway how about a Shekel each?"

The tiger blinks at Envoy, and answers by simply snarling angrily. He turns his attentions to the slave. "Bah… a slave who can trounce all five of us? What's he do, insult us into submission?" The tiger's four companions chuckle at the great wit of their leader and circle in a bit closer.

The Kavi nods. "All right! How many you want?"

Envoy blinks at the snarl. "Could you repeat that in Rephidim Standard please? Or Vykarin?"

"As a matter of fact, my slave, X, is a renown pugilist," the Khatta replies offendedly. "He fought for many years in an arena before my father purchased him!" His tail flicks back and forth has he glances at the other companions.

"He's got a face like a pug!" One of the tiger's companions, a rather heavyset Jupani, jeers.

Envoy blinks three times at the tiger, and mimics his own snarl back at him, figuring it some sort of ritual greeting.

Gahran growls again at Envoy and gives her a rough shove, aiming to cause her to crash into the Savanite.

Envoy stumbles backward, but spreads her wings for balance.

The Kavi near Gwyneth winces. Fights. Very bad for business.

Gwyneth is distracted by a large noise, her attention diverted by the fight.

The Savanite springs into action, tossing the bundles of cloth onto the counter of the booth, and then swinging his arms back … and it remains to be seen, in the split motion whether it's fast enough to catch Envoy or not.

The Eeee goes "Help! Gua – *MMF!*" as she takes several bolts of fine zolk in the face and begins to topple backward.

Envoy ends up smacking X with her wings before fully falling over.

The cheetah winces – both at the demonstration of his poor aim with cloth projectiles, and at the battering in his face.

The Jupani behind X takes the distraction to it's fullest advantage and leaps upon the slave's back, kicking abd biting.

Envoy sits down with a thump at the Savanite's feet.

The Khatta looks alarmed. "Do something, X! Chastise these barbarians for me!" He starts to back away.

The Savanite bends forward, then twists, trying to get himself away from Envoy, with the wolf on his back.

Envoy blinks up at the wolf on X's back. That's certainly not a greeting…

Envoy scrambles out of the way, towards the sausage stand.

In an instant Gahran and his remaining three companions leap in. The tiger attacking the Khatta, and the three, a Rhian and two more Jupanis, leaping at the Savanite.

Once Envoy is out of the way, X tries to back the wolf into the stand in the split moment before the others join in.

Gwyneth glances over at the Kavi, "Does this sort of thing happen often here?", as the fight breaks out. She's no stranger to fighting, but sees no reason to get involved in this scuffle.

The Khatta yelps. "Help! Help me, I am beset!" He turns and breaks into a run, trying to lose the tiger… and heading straight for Gwyneth and the sugar-on-a-stick Kavi seller.

Envoy blinks at the fighting, and starts whistling for the patrol.

"No, not often," the Kavi says. He starts bundling up his counter quickly, trying to pack it up before the fight overwhelms this area.

The wolf clinging to the slave's back lets out a loud YELP as he's slammed into booth. The Rhian tries to pull the slave back while the other two wolves bite at the slave's arms.

Envoy hmms. Fighting like that next to tubs of hot grease can't be safe…

Gahran tears off after the Khatta, roaring like a monster.

As X hits the booth, assuming he has a hand yet free to work with (by actual freedom or brute force), he grasps at the nearest inanimate object to present itself.

X's hand closes around… A sausage. More specifically, a link of sausages, all tied together.

One can't be picky. Not just now, anyway. The cheetah yanks on the string, whipping out with the sausages at the head of the nearest opponent.

Gwyneth steps aside as the Khatta runs past her screaming his head off. I shouldn't get involved. I shouldn't get involved. Oh damn. She leans out a leg as Gahran runs by, hoping to trip him.

The Khatta huffs and puffs as he leans against a booth, his head whipping back over his shoulder to try and catch sight of his pursuer…

The nearest opponent is one of the Jupani, the link whips neatly about his neck, causing him to jerk back in suprise. the wolf on X's back responds by snapping hungrily at the links.

Envoy asks the Eeee cook, "Do you have any pepper?"

Gahran tumbles over the halfbreed's leg, falling face first into the dusty street.

The Eeee vendor struggles with the cloth. "MMmmf!"

The cheetah gives the string of links a straight tug, while rolling himself forward again, hoping to get at least two of his foes off-balance for a moment while he grapples for a handful of dirt.

Oo. That hurt. The half breed quickly draws her cutlass and holds it down to Gahran's back, and shouts. "Don't move! Not one bit!"

Envoy hmms, and leans over the counter to see for herself.

The Rhian kicks out at the Savanite with one of his hooves before tumbling back.

Gahran rolls over onto his back swiftly and starts to pull himself up… Then freezes as the blade comes into view. "Dagh!" he hisses, freezing solid.

"RRrrRRRRrrrRRrrRR!" Responds the wolf with the link of sausages firmly in his mouth.

The cheetah is knocked to the side at the powerful kick, and winces painfully as he falls to the ground.

Gwyneth shouts at Gahran. With these types, intimidation is all they probably know. "Call your friends off. Now! Or as good as Dagh I'll run you through! Now!!"

The cheetah at least has a handful of … something. He crams it into the face of the wolf on his back.

Envoy thinks, o O { Who IS this Dagh person everyone seems to know? }

The Khatta's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the halfbreed Rhian-Vartan holding his pursuer to the ground.

As soon as the Savanite's down the two wolves and Rhian rush in. One of the wolves tumbles backwards in a fit of coughs and sneezes.

Gwyneth doesn't even flinch as she stares at Gahran. She pushes the blade down just a little bit, its sharp edge touching delicate skin.

Gahran sizes up his chances of wrestling the blade away from the Varhian, but then his eyes flick to the Savanite giving his followers trouble. Bad situation. "All right," he hisses between gritted fangs. "Let me breath and I'll do it."

The cheetah rolls onto his back, bringing his feet up to face his attackers.

Envoy watches the melee, and X's new defensive posture. Maybe there'll be another flying horse in the bazaar soon…

Gwyneth presses the blade down farther. With these types, you can't trust them one bit. "Now, I don't want to have to wait anymore! They'll stop if you're dead!"

The Rhian tries to jump on top of the Savanite, only to find those feet meeting his chest.

As the Rhian meets X's feet … the Savanite rolls back with the force, pushing upward with his strength, trying to use the Rhian's forward charge against him.

"All right! That's enough, Tekh, Sarf, Muf, Charcoal!" the tiger shouts. "Ease off!"

Gahran scrambles backward a bit from the blade, trying to keep it from biting through his thick fur.

The horse goes over the slave's head, crashing into the Jupani with a mouthful of sausages.

The other two wolves shrink back at their leader's words.

X tries to roll to a less exposed position, keeping low to the ground.

Gahran's eyes look up at the Varhian with worry. "Good enough for you, lady? Let me up already!"

Gwyneth keeps her eyes on Gahran, not glancing up to see if his friends comply. She presses down just a little bit as her captive twitches. "That's it. If they stop quick enough, you might get out of here before the patrol comes." She encourages Gahran, yet still makes sure that he will comply.

Tekh, the Rhian, whickers angrily as he staggers back to his hooves. He'd much rather get a couple more good kicks in.

Gahran gets up carefully, not making any threatening moves. "Right. Easy it is. We're out of… here!" He breaks into a run away from Gwyneth, trying to regather the shreds of his dignity, and collects his gang members, while the other merchants nearby break into applause, and some jeer at the shamed tiger.

The Khatta merchant approaches, now that the scene is clear. "Hah! One Vartan – no, Rhian – no, Vartan-Rhian put your fearless leader to shame," he cat-calls after the departing gang.

The Savanite stands the rest of the way up now, worriedly looking about for sign of his master. Whew! There he is…

The Eeee vendor whips the cloth off of her face and looks up out of her booth, alarmed. "What – where? oh good, they're gone."

Gwyneth watches Gahran run off, her cutlass still out. She takes this opportunity to break out into a sweat, breathing heavily at her nervousness.

Envoy says, "One of the Jupani ate your sausage links."

"And don't come back," the Khatta yells after them.

The Eeee vendor sighs to Envoy. "Oh, by the First Ones! Well, this sort of thing happens now and then. It's only some sausages." She looks around and then frowns at the Khatta whose ill-calculate words brought on the fight.

The cheetah looks to Gwyneth, his master … the departing forms … and belatedly puts the scenes back together in his head. It is not he who defended his master, he sees. He strides up to the winged horse and bows … then staggers and winces at the pain in his gut from that kick.

Envoy smiles, and asks the vendor, "What sort of bugs do you use in your sausages?"

Gwyneth blinks at the cheetah. She quickly puts away her cutlass, "Are you alright? Maybe you'd better sit down for a few moments." He doesn't look good. Oo.

The Khatta scowls at the cheetah. "Finally made it, did you? You're fired." He nods to Gwyneth. "I suppose my appreciation is in order." He reaches into his coinpurse negligently, pushes an assortment of shekels into her hand, then stalks away, not even pausing to collect the cloth from the Eeee's booth. "Of all the times for a slave to fail me," he fumes to himself…

Immediately behind Gwyneth and the cheetah however, is another Khatta… This one orange and white, his face looking much more pleasant. "Faresk!" he calls.

The color in the cheetah's ears drains. He needs no more urging from Gwyneth. He collapses to the ground.

The first Khatta turns back. "What – Demes! You set those thugs on me, didn't you? Well, such foul tricks will do you no good whatsoever. I'll remember this!" He hisses, and then starts to turn away again.

Gwyneth bends over the cheetah, checking to see if he was more badly hurt than first appeared. No, doesn't look like anything serious. She glances at the assorted shekels in her hand. Momentarily confused, she drops them in with the rest of her coins, some falling onto the street. She looks up at the orange and white Khatta who caused the cheetah to collapse.

"Faresk!" Demes shouts, the orange-and-white Khatta near Gwyneth and the Savanite, dressed not so richly as his relative, the black-and-orange-and-white Khatta stalking away. "Did you mean it when you said you'd fired X?"

Envoy gets some fruit juice from a nearby vendor, and brings it over to the Savanite and Varhian. "Would you like something to drink?" she asks, holding the cup out to the slave.

"Yes," Faresk shouts. "You can have him, and no joy may you have of it! Hah! Arena fighter, indeed."

The cheetah looks to Envoy, then slowly shakes his head, still looking dazed.

And then the crowds close around Faresk, leaving only a similar-seeming Khatta near the cheetah-morph and the half-Vartan, half-Rhian winged creature. Demes kneels down beside the Savanite and touches his forehead. "Are you all right, X?"

The cheetah bows his head to the Khatta, and then gets slowly back up to his feet again.

The Kavi nearby starts unpacking his booth again. "Ah! Good move," he says to Gwyneth.

Demes Oresta sighs. "Ah, my brother. He must have let his mouth run off again, and gotten you both in trouble without thinking of the consequences," he says, and helps X up to his feet. "Well, I shall try to take better care of you. And you, lovely lady? I believe that I owe you the thanks that my brother is too ill-tempered to give." He bows with a flourish to Gwyneth.

Envoy smiles and offers the juice to Gwyneth, since X doesn't seem thirsty.

The cheetah starts to breathe a little more easily, as it slowly sets in that he has simply been given over to a new master, rather than sentenced to death.

Gwyneth finally stands up, and smiles at Demes. "Really, I was just trying to help. I hate to see bullies, well, "she's slightly flustered. "Bullying." Still a bit nervous, she takes the juice offered to her by a fellow winged creature. "Thank you," she says to Envoy. And drinks - she must be slightly dehydrated, just out of the adrenaline rush.

"I am Demes Oresta," the Khatta says, introducing himself to Gwyneth. "A humble merchant… Well, mostly humble; you must forgive me if I show a little pride now and then in the excellence of my wares, as it were." He grins. "I do believe I owe you a favor or two for saving the life of my brother, Faresk. He is, after all, family."

While the others talk, the cheetah gingerly walks over to the Eeee stand, retrieving the fallen cloths. It takes a moment before he pauses to consider that they're abandoned, and he's probably not going to be carrying them home for Faresk anymore.

Envoy smiles to the Khatta, "Are you the friend of Aski the Scholar?"

The Eeee vendor hands the cloth back to the Savanite. "Goodness, what a terrible afternoon," she says. "First, insulted by that horrible Khatta, who can't even pronounce 'e'cheya nuts' properly, and now assaulted in my own booth by several lengths of cloth. Well!" She shudders delicately.

Gwyneth drinks a little bit more of the juice. "He seems like an angry fellow," referring of course, to Faresk. "My name's Gwyneth, apprentice airship trader." She smiles.

The cheetah bows apologetically to the bat, then carries the load over to his new master, with a "Now what do I do with THIS?" look on his face.

(Plus a small wince. Another bow. Did it AGAIN!)

"Ah? Indeed, I know of an Aski," Demes says. "In fact, I had invited him along on my next trip out – we are going to visit Jarthamale Tip. I hope that we'll find some possibly useful trading there to be done… " He perks his ears up. "Ah! An apprentice? Might you possibly be interested in signing on with my own trading house? I do appreciate someone who knows how to use force only when absolutely necessary… And then does so with precisely the amount needed to finish a fight."

Gwyneth giggles.

As luck would have it, Gwyneth is not ready to jump into the invitationas yet but accepts Demes's offer to accompany him to a social party thatevening where he is more successful in convincing her. X recovers from hiswounds fairly quickly with the help of a rat healer, Chiri, who impressesDemes sufficiently despite her acerbic personality – or perhaps because of it – that he hires her as a linguist and healer.