Mon May 12, 2025 7:30 pm
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"I don't want a few marks. I want half the cut," Maev said, leaning back casually against her dragon, giving any rider who happened to meet her eye a hard death glare. Like any negotiation, this was about leverage. And their leverage depended on no one breaking rank and taking a discount.
Tezcath was kind enough to accentuate her words with an intimidating-looking snarl. One of the pirates had disrespected him. Tezcath didn't like to be disrespected.
"It'll take you three and a half sevendays, to sail from here to Semaca," Maev calculated, speaking loudly enough the other riders could hear her. Undercutters, even ignorant undercutters, were bad for business, "As we speak, some charitable souls are showing the northerners 'round your jungles. I bet High Reaches is negotiating with other northerners- whose ships can come in half the time. By the time you make it on your own, High Reaches may not be desperate any more."
Maev had sailed enough ships to know how this went. There were marks in bringing salvation to a hold whose fields had been blighted or burned. But only if you got there before the bidding war started.
"Besides, some of these fruits look mighty fresh. You'll never get them there in time without us."
This errand is beneath us, Tezcath observed coldly. He really didn't like these pirates' distinct lack of the reverance holders usually held for dragonkind. Which could be a problem for later, but for the moment, she wasn't trying to make friends. She'd just have to make sure never to remind him of this particular first impression, You should kneel and give thanks that we are willing to consider being your salvation.