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Early morning in the marketplace of Uruk was an interesting time. The noises of stalls being set up sang through the streets, obscured only by the general chatter as the merchants discussed their previous evenings or how they’d hoped the day would go. All manner of stalls were in the process of being erected; anything from food to tools and equipment. Each shop was different from the last, an eclectic rainbow of wares. The only thing that gave any sense of uniform to the stalls was their awning. Each was sheltered by a length of fabric, emblazoned with the golds associated with their God-King.
It was too early in the day for most traders and customers to begin perusing the marketplace, a fact a small gaggle of merchants took full advantage of. They sat in a group, under the shade of a building behind their stalls, sipping at steaming cups of coffee and tea, deep in conversation.
“Tariq has been importing Wakandan fabrics and jewellery, you know?” One of the merchants spoke in between sips from her cup. A Redguard woman, stouter than most of her kind. Her hair was pulled into a dishevelled bun atop her head. She was dressed in fine clothes, light enough to not have to worry about overheating in the scorching desert sun, but not so light that it took away from any sense of style. She drummed her fingers on her thigh, waiting for the reactions of her peers.
“Do not speak to me of Wakanda, Landalla, I’ll hear none of it.” A taupe skinned, bespectacled man blurted out before spitting on the ground beside him, “The next Wakandan I see, you aside Ansani, will be met with the sharp end of one of my blades!”
“You’ll do no such thing, Kostas!” Landalla scoffed a laugh. The two stooped to bickering between themselves, going back and forth between Landalla’s disbelief and
Ansani, the Wakandan, perked up at the mention of her name and her people, “Careful. You realise he is a noble, right?” She asked, giving her compatriot an incredulous stare.
“I’m aware. We’re all aware.” He gestured to their little group, “He makes sure to tell us at every opportunity.”
“I, for one, am wondering when the Guild will be stepping in.” The last member of their group, an elf of pale skin and bright orange hair, enquired as he gestured up to the shadow marks —a diamond with a pair of interlocked circles across the centre— left on each of their stalls by the Thieves Guild, easy enough to spot but unintelligible to those who were not aware of their meaning.
Landalla raised a finger to her lips, shushing the Elf before he continued, “They’re probably already aware and working on something, but save that conversation for quieter times, hm?” She scoffed and ran her fingers through her hair, glancing about at her surroundings to ensure nobody had heard mention of the Guild. They were well known, sure, but who knew what kind of consequences they’d face if it was made public knowledge that they were protected by them. “Better to be safe than sorry, right?” The rest of the group nodded, practically in unison. None of them wanted to find out what kind of repercussions the lawmakers of Uruk would have in store for known associates of the Thieves Guild.
“And what?” Ansani asked, “We just wait for him to come around and trash our stuff again? To bad mouth us in front of our customers? We have a reputation to uphold, Lanalla. I, for one, cannot afford to have my name dragged through the mud waiting for the Guild to step in and sort this shit out..” She emptied the last dregs of her coffee into the sand beside her stall. The Wakandan hauled herself up, using the wooden wall of the stall as a brace.
“That’s pretty much it..” The Redguard huffed and pushed herself up as well, “We have to weather this storm and have faith that it will be seen to. If our customers are swayed by the words of a jumped up daddy’s boy, are they really worth our efforts? No, no they are not. The citizens of Uruk will see him for what he is soon enough.”
“She is right,” the Elf, Aelar, spoke up as he rose to stand, “We wouldn’t be able to stop him without the law stepping in and sullying our good names. He can use his words all he wishes, but if we are apprehended by the law for taking it into our own hands, we would lose far more business.”
“Isn’t this something you could bring to the attention of his elders or.. Superiors or something?” Kostas enquired of Ansani, “Surely there is some kind of chain of command that we could bring his behaviour to the attention of?”
“Why do you think I am here, Kostas?” Ansani asked, an incredulous stare thrown his way. She didn’t wait for his answer, her question was rhetorical, “I was removed from their graces, exiled for refusing to bow down to the nobles wishes. My complaints would only bring laughter and ridicule.”
“Hmm- A shame.” Kostas mused.
“What, that I was exiled or that I cannot bring your complaints to their attention?”
“My friend, I was clearly speaking of our complaints,” Kostas chuckled, his playful tone making clear that he was in fact joking. The rest of the group chortled quietly, “I did not mean to be insensitive, Ansani, we are all just a little frustrated and fractious. I pray for a resolution to this matter.. Sooner rather than later.”
“Mmh- you’re not wrong.” Lanalla shrugged, “We should get set up. We’ll soon have customers.”
The four of them nodded to each other and went about setting up their stalls for the day to come. The marketplace was beginning to spring to life, citizens of Uruk and even visitors began to filter in, all eager to sample the merchants’ wares.
It was too early in the day for most traders and customers to begin perusing the marketplace, a fact a small gaggle of merchants took full advantage of. They sat in a group, under the shade of a building behind their stalls, sipping at steaming cups of coffee and tea, deep in conversation.
“Tariq has been importing Wakandan fabrics and jewellery, you know?” One of the merchants spoke in between sips from her cup. A Redguard woman, stouter than most of her kind. Her hair was pulled into a dishevelled bun atop her head. She was dressed in fine clothes, light enough to not have to worry about overheating in the scorching desert sun, but not so light that it took away from any sense of style. She drummed her fingers on her thigh, waiting for the reactions of her peers.
“Do not speak to me of Wakanda, Landalla, I’ll hear none of it.” A taupe skinned, bespectacled man blurted out before spitting on the ground beside him, “The next Wakandan I see, you aside Ansani, will be met with the sharp end of one of my blades!”
“You’ll do no such thing, Kostas!” Landalla scoffed a laugh. The two stooped to bickering between themselves, going back and forth between Landalla’s disbelief and
Ansani, the Wakandan, perked up at the mention of her name and her people, “Careful. You realise he is a noble, right?” She asked, giving her compatriot an incredulous stare.
“I’m aware. We’re all aware.” He gestured to their little group, “He makes sure to tell us at every opportunity.”
“I, for one, am wondering when the Guild will be stepping in.” The last member of their group, an elf of pale skin and bright orange hair, enquired as he gestured up to the shadow marks —a diamond with a pair of interlocked circles across the centre— left on each of their stalls by the Thieves Guild, easy enough to spot but unintelligible to those who were not aware of their meaning.
Landalla raised a finger to her lips, shushing the Elf before he continued, “They’re probably already aware and working on something, but save that conversation for quieter times, hm?” She scoffed and ran her fingers through her hair, glancing about at her surroundings to ensure nobody had heard mention of the Guild. They were well known, sure, but who knew what kind of consequences they’d face if it was made public knowledge that they were protected by them. “Better to be safe than sorry, right?” The rest of the group nodded, practically in unison. None of them wanted to find out what kind of repercussions the lawmakers of Uruk would have in store for known associates of the Thieves Guild.
“And what?” Ansani asked, “We just wait for him to come around and trash our stuff again? To bad mouth us in front of our customers? We have a reputation to uphold, Lanalla. I, for one, cannot afford to have my name dragged through the mud waiting for the Guild to step in and sort this shit out..” She emptied the last dregs of her coffee into the sand beside her stall. The Wakandan hauled herself up, using the wooden wall of the stall as a brace.
“That’s pretty much it..” The Redguard huffed and pushed herself up as well, “We have to weather this storm and have faith that it will be seen to. If our customers are swayed by the words of a jumped up daddy’s boy, are they really worth our efforts? No, no they are not. The citizens of Uruk will see him for what he is soon enough.”
“She is right,” the Elf, Aelar, spoke up as he rose to stand, “We wouldn’t be able to stop him without the law stepping in and sullying our good names. He can use his words all he wishes, but if we are apprehended by the law for taking it into our own hands, we would lose far more business.”
“Isn’t this something you could bring to the attention of his elders or.. Superiors or something?” Kostas enquired of Ansani, “Surely there is some kind of chain of command that we could bring his behaviour to the attention of?”
“Why do you think I am here, Kostas?” Ansani asked, an incredulous stare thrown his way. She didn’t wait for his answer, her question was rhetorical, “I was removed from their graces, exiled for refusing to bow down to the nobles wishes. My complaints would only bring laughter and ridicule.”
“Hmm- A shame.” Kostas mused.
“What, that I was exiled or that I cannot bring your complaints to their attention?”
“My friend, I was clearly speaking of our complaints,” Kostas chuckled, his playful tone making clear that he was in fact joking. The rest of the group chortled quietly, “I did not mean to be insensitive, Ansani, we are all just a little frustrated and fractious. I pray for a resolution to this matter.. Sooner rather than later.”
“Mmh- you’re not wrong.” Lanalla shrugged, “We should get set up. We’ll soon have customers.”
The four of them nodded to each other and went about setting up their stalls for the day to come. The marketplace was beginning to spring to life, citizens of Uruk and even visitors began to filter in, all eager to sample the merchants’ wares.