Sitting in his makeshift study, John tried to distract himself by once more poring over the various papers, books and other salvaged items when a familiar whirlwind burst through the door. "John! Good you're here!" Alice said somewhat breathlessly but clearly happy. Her eyes where wide with excitement and practically sparkling as she practically bounced on the balls of her feet. "You have to come quickly! It's a merchant! One of those special traveling ones rather than a native! Can you believe it? Ray spotted them a little way out with the others well hunting and they actually managed to convince them to come back here to trade!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, it was the same vibrant spirit that she had when they first met and a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips that he couldn't hold back. "But here's the kicker," she continued, barely pausing for a breath, "they said they'd only deal with the camp leader which is you! So, I practically flew over here to drag you out to meet them before others could beat me to it!" She didn't give him any time to reply as she grasped his arm and began pulling him towards the door.
Dragging him from the office she pulled him through the upper level of the camp where he faintly saw and heard the various other people talking among themselves, some with excitement others grumbling, seemingly envious and slightly angry that he got to trade with the merchant and they couldn't. Soon he was out the camp and dragged to what was once a small general store that was now completely dilapidated and wrecked stood a short but undeniably formidable figure that was entirely swathed in a thick, earth-brown coat. The heavy fabric swallowed their form with sleeves that hung loose, only hinting at the limbs beneath as a vibrant red scarf was pulled high to cover the lower half of their face, while a deep hood, adorned with two distinct, almost feline points that flopped gently sat at the top, shielded the rest of their head and face from view. The only thing visible was a pair of luminous green eyes were visible, piercing but alert as they gazed around at everything around them. On their back was an immense sack, seemingly twice the merchant's own size and secured by two thick shoulder straps. The chaotic melody of clanking pots and pans emanated from its left side where they all seemed haphazardly secured well contrasting with the neatly rolled sleeping bag strapped to the right. As the pair approached, a third figure materialized from the shadows of a nearby building with a small put, Ash being curious soon fell into step beside them, her presence silent at first but clearly slightly annoyed that Alice got to tell him about the Merchant rather than her.
The trio stopped a few feet from the enigmatic newcomer as s silence fell over them, as both parties seemed to look over each other, assessing one another. He slowly studied the merchant's concealed form, wondering about the person beneath the layers as the merchant, in turn, seemed to be scrutinizing them with those glowing green eyes, passing over each of them one by one before there head seemed to tilt slightly as they let out a subtle, almost imperceptible sniffing sound that broke the stillness. Their gaze soon narrowing on John with an intensity that sent a prickle down his spine. A low, soft hiss escaped their lips, a sound more reptilian than human. "What's an administrative dog doing here?" The words, when they finally came, were warped with a mechanical distortion that made it impossible to discern gender or even true inflection. "You know you're not normally allowed to interfere or insert yourselves into things like this! So as a proper upright merchant I kindly ask that you show me your permit allowing you to be here and intervening." At the abrupt tone and order he couldn't help but blink in confusion. Even Alice's brow furrowed in confusion beside him and even Ash didn't seem to know how to react to that at all, casting glances between the two. "An administrative dog?" John repeated slowly, the question hanging in the air.
"Uhm, what are you even talking about?" He couldn't help but add holding up his hand. "I'm not an administrator or even related to them. In fact, I have many bones to pick with the—" He was cut off abruptly as the merchant's voice rose in a sudden, sharp crescendo of fury. "LIAR!" The word seemed to cut through the air, vibrating with an almost physical force. "I can smell it on you! That thick, acrid scent of those self-important assholes who love to 'regulate' and 'control' everything! They're the ones driving honest merchants like me to the ground well forcing us to follow their ridiculous 'rules' or be branded a 'black merchant' If we overstep to much but all but ensuring that it's the only path to real success ever since taking control of the trade commerce!" The merchant seemed to grow taller as their tone became more headed, despite their short stature as they radiated an indignant rage directed at him. "Is this some kind of surprise spot test? A to try and take my goods? Are you trying to crack down on me for breaking an imaginary rule you will try to create on the spot?!" Two small, surprisingly delicate and pale hands suddenly shot out from the loose sleeves before, with a flourish the merchant flipped them a defiant middle finger. "Well, I've got news for you buddy! Everything I have here is above board, so you can just suck it!" There words and gesture left him both bewildered and confused, wondering what he had supposedly done to garner such a reaction. Alice, however seemed to be trying and failing to hold back a giggle behind her hand as her eyes sparkling mischievously, even Ash had a faint smirk to playing across her lips.
"Please, just listen," He told them, somewhat pleading but also as firm as he could well trying to keep his voice calm. "I truly hate them as much as you seem to. Perhaps I smell like them because I was trapped at their central hub for a while, or maybe it's from the deal I made with an imp... before I killed them and got this stupid mark burnt onto my hand." He extended his hand to reveal the intricate tattoo etched into his skin, hoping the physical proof would lend weight to his extraordinary claim.
The merchant's glowing eyes seemed to scan the tattoo before sweeping over him, a derisive snort escaping them soon after. "HA! Likely story," they scoffed, the distorted voice dripping with disbelief. "There's no way a tubbo like you could kill one of them. The deal part, I can maybe believe though but killing an imp? Hmph, maybe after a few years of hitting the gym or but even that would be stretch." The insult was casually delivered and admittedly stung a little but he tried to ignore it.
"To be fair," he began, hoping to clarify things, "he was already more than half-dead and broken when I killed. He broke some rules and we ended up getting dragged into their realm-place. When we were allowed to leave, we just figured we would drag him along with us thinking he might still be useful. Why kill him then? We got some answers and he was clearly defiant to the end, an added bonus is he won't be able to argue or deny stealing from his boss's office." He hoped this additional bit of information well messy and unbelievable as it sounded, would help the merchant properly understand why he smelt like them. All he wanted was to finally have a means to trade and gain some resources he couldn't get otherwise before going to confront the mages and candle maker, this bizarre interrogation was eating into precious time but he couldn't do anything about it, he had need of the merchant. "Yep, it was the Imp who stole from the office, definitely not us since we where just brought along and even watched it all happen!" Alice added, giving him overly exaggerated winks.
"Oh?" The merchant's voice held a new note of intrigue, though still clearly suspicious. "If that's the case, which sector were you in? And who was your contact? they should have told you all that if they took you in, just like they tend to do with us merchants."
He hesitated at that, clearly confused by the question and by the looks on Alice's face she was equally as confused. "I have no idea about the sector or whatever bureaucratic term they used," he admitted, "but would a Jester-like creature whose mask seemed to crack the angrier they got count as a contact? Or... this other person with lots of musical instruments? Would either of them count?"
A sharp intake of breath, then a sudden, almost triumphant, "Ahah! So, you are an administrative dog!" sounded out from the merchant but the declaration was immediately followed by a pause, a almost visible internal conflict playing out behind those glowing green eyes as they lowered their arm. "Wait, no," the merchant mused aloud, the distorted voice surprisingly contemplative. "A Jester or any of them wouldn't have someone like you in his employ... They tend to have to much of a hard-on for the rules with aims of personal gain to ever have someone like you in there employ and I've never heard of someone with musical instruments. That doesn't fit what I know of the administration." The merchant seemed to be piecing together an invisible puzzle, their head tilting from side to side. The glowing green eyes still wary now held a flicker of curiosity, before finally narrowing their gaze on John once more. "Look," the merchant declared, the voice firm, "if this is some kind of trap, I swear I will make things hell for you. I know people. Powerful people and even the Manager!" The threat hung in the air, a final warning that he didn't quite believe but he could see the subtle shifts taking place. It was a risk, but one they were evidently willing to take if it meant making a profit.
With an audible huff, they shrugged the massive sack from their back, letting it drop to the dusty ground directly in front of them. It landed with a soft, almost sentient thump before in a movement so fluid and practiced it seemed effortless, they climbed into the sack. The trio watched captivated as a shimmer, not to different than a heat haze, rose from the bag before it started stretching and swelling well rippling outwards like a stone dropped into water. The rough material twisted and reshaped itself, the seams dissolving and reforming until it solidified into a compact, yet undeniably magical small market stall. Various items, previously hidden inside now appeared, neatly arranged on a circular, open-centered counter. The design allowed for clear, open walkways on its sides, inviting exploration of the item-lined walls of the newly formed store. In the heart of this counter, stood the merchant, perfectly positioned to see everything happening in their store and perfectly able to identify and point out various items. At their side as an utterly unique and strange looking scale-like device. Long, slender metal pipes protruded from its intricate mechanism, their surfaces gleaming with an unknown energy, while numerous gauges dotted its middle shaft, their needles twitching subtly. Baskets hung from either side of the scale were a curious blend of colors: a dull grey, a light reddish-brown and the unmistakable, deep hue of rust, clearly being scrubbed could be seen.
A cheerful, almost theatrical tone replaced the earlier distorted snarl. "Welcome to my stall!" the merchant declared, sweeping their hands upwards in a grand gesture that belied their earlier hostility. "I am the amazing, super awesome merchant Z! Now," they continued, bringing their hands gracefully together in front of them for a shallow, practiced bow, "what can I interest you fine folks in today? Do you have anything specific you're looking for, or would you prefer my personal recommendations? Feel free to look around, gaze upon my wares and tell me what captures your interest! And remember if you're playing me, I will make you pay in more than just coin!" The shift in demeanor was startling, clearly a well-rehearsed performance, done more out of professional habit than genuine warmth, but it was effective. The tension which had built up during their exchange was now gone, replaced by a sense of wonder and the tantalizing prospect of trade.