SchNGrBTwM

Bah, let's ditch 'em, get a better tour guide. It's not like we can parse that accent anyhow.

9

You gesture rudely at Pepperstrelle, prising a stray seed from a molar and launching a contemptuous loogie in her direction. You've got better shit to be doing than dragging yourself through mud for someone who probably isn't even a real princess. Have some self-respect.

You stride off with renewed confidence down the boardwalk, turning your nose up at the indignant yelling. She eventually gives up, probably slinking off to go find some other total stranger to extort into a feudal contract.

Fucking mers.

Your boardwalk eventually reaches a t-intersection. A sign lopsidedly lashed to a tree proclaims this matchstick agglomerate of dwellings as Roosteries*.

You hear a splash behind you-

"-A traveller! A tourist! Hello! Greetings! Well come to our fair city!"

A mer** bounds smartly back out of sword's reach as you spin around, hand at your hilt. It grins, in what's probably supposed to be a friendly gesture.

"I don't need a tour guide," you preempt. The mer wilts, just a little, but springs back just as ingratiatingly fast.

"A common misconception! True true, Roosteries is known far and wide for its tethered star-"

"I'm so utterly enchanted by this town you talk about. I'm going to go miraculously somehow walk toward it without you holding my hand."

"Yet! It's also ranks fearsome a vicious den of thieves and brigands as any gule-town! Were you privy to that precious snippet?"

"Look at me goooooo," you say, to little effect. (Come to think of it, you actually were*** privy, but you're not engaging this leech.)

Cult policy probably opposes stabbing children for being annoying, because that's a good and sensible rule and your cult is a good and sensible organisation of mostly-upstanding morals. If, for some reason, the cult had an explicit policy of child-stabbing,**** you'd still be pretty opposed to it!

Holy hell is this kid trying your patience though. Do they even count as a minor with vocabulary like that?

"Ugh, fine. Show me the sights. Point out the obvious deathtraps. Don't expect to get paid for this."

"Negotiable!" The merkid plunges off the boardwalk, surfacing ahead of you and scrambling into a leg-using position again. "Would you be interested in Salvage Street, The Dire Mire, Ganker's Nook, or Roosteries' latest attraction... a weird Stiggan I just found?"

*"Home of the Grandfloam! Best and Brightest!*"

**same black eyes, glossy seafoam skin, white hair, paddles for hands, beautiful legs as her Royal Cadgesty.

***the guy whose name and other useful identifiers has completely slipped your mind told you a bit about... Guleson? Solger? Whatever this place is called. You recall "den of thieves" coming up, verbatim.

****which it almost certainly (probably) doesn't, let's be clear here-

/9