Tale Fifteen, Old Thief, New Tricks and Life is Hard to Define
"Come on, I have fish here for sale!"
"Five leaves a pound – no, two and a half!"
"At these rates, you're stealin' from me..."
"You'll hafta haggle it a bit, or I'm walkin'."
"Wait! I'll knock the price down!"
"I'll knock it up!"
The sounds and activities of the Goldshore marketplace blew with the sea breeze. Tressa sniffed the air like a fine connoisseur of wine or food. This similarity may have been more apt to describing the merchant in her natural environment than anything else. Her eyes wandered from stand to stand and shop to shop, searching for good deals. Perhaps, if she kept her wits about her, she could find a legendary deal – one that bards would write about one day!
Her cheeks reddened as her smile widened, stretching her face to its limits.
"Time to find a treasure today, then! Now, where to look first..." she said to the bustling market around her.
Like a lookout, she assumed her stance, held onto her pack, and placed her hand above her eyes as she scanned the items her rival merchants showed off today.
Some had bits and baubles for sale, gems that were cut coarsely to pendants that shown brilliantly. Others had weapons waiting to be used by a new owner.
People perusing clothing.
Children testing out toys.
And... a thief watching all of it as vigilantly as Tressa.
The merchant scowled as she recognized the tuft of white hair and purple shawl that served as Therion's trademarks. His eyes darted backing and forth strolling through the marketplace at the same pace as Tressa's. Soon, his eyes landed on her, too.
Therion seemed to curse under his breath as he shifted his scarf to cover his mouth and identity. Tressa wouldn't be fooled so easily. Even so, she was about to let the man go with a roll of her eyes and turn her gaze the other way. That was before a lightbulb went off in her head.
She returned her appraising stare back to Therion. He returned to eyeing some shoppers and merchants away from Tressa's gaze, allowing her the opportunity to watch him for a moment without being spotted.
The merchant rubbed her chin.
Analytical.
Methodical.
Tactical.
And frugal.
All of the consonances she needed to know her plan had a chance of working.
Adjusting her cap and flicking her feather back, Tressa set forth with a determined smirk as she made her way across the market towards Therion.
"Hey! Therion!" She greeted loudly over the droning of the hawkers and buyers.
His back was still turned away from her, showing he didn't want to be interrupted or caught. Probably both, Tressa surmised. Still, she wouldn't be turned away so easily. With a puffed cheek she flicked the thief in the back of his head.
"Ow," he muttered lamely, rubbing the spot the merchant had attacked. The action did its job, however, as Therion turned his head slightly over his shoulder to acknowledge his attacker. "What do you want, Feather?"
"Just doing my due diligence as a proper merchant and making sure you aren't thinking of stealing," she stated as she wagged her finger jokingly at Therion.
The thief sighed and shifted his eyes in another direction before pushing away Tressa's offending appendage. "Don't worry, Feather. Just scouting out the prey today, I'll be back tomorrow. Can't let them see you and get to work on the same day. It's how you get caught."
"And yet you still got caught," Tressa retorted in a sing-song voice.
Therion subconsciously hid his bangle before huffing.
The merchant laughed. "Sorry, Therion, it's just easy to mess with you."
"Whatever. I'm done for the day. See you."
Therion started to walk away before Tressa called out for him to stop. "Is that really the only reason you were watching my fellow merchants?"
"Yes. Why?"
"'Cause your eyes were really paying attention to the goings-on around here. Saw them clear as day from across the square."
The merchant knew she was right, but as the Octopath Travelers had learned with Therion, they'd have to bait him if they wanted him to do something. Usually, he'd catch the offender in the act, just as he had caught Tressa. With a glance at the sky, he realized that it wasn't even midday. So, he decided to play along, being bought in more easily than he'd care to admit.
"Okay, I'll bite. What're you trying to say, Feather?" Therion spoke, moving straight to the point.
Tressa's eyes gleamed under her cap. "That you've the eye of a merchant."
There it was.
"Nope. I'm out."
And away Therion went.
"You can't trick me into playing fair with your friends. It isn't how I operate."
Tressa tugged on Therion's scarf, causing the man to halt again. The thief tugged back, silently telling his friend to let go.
"Come on, Therion. You said you'd play along!" Tressa pouted and pleaded. "Just for a little bit! You got that eye about you!"
Therion tried to drag Tressa away, but didn't want to damage his scarf. They both knew that, and they both knew that the thief was trapped for the moment.
"I said, no!"
"Just tell me what the inventory is like for that merchant over there!"
Taking a chance, Tressa released Therion's scarf to point towards a weapon saleswoman that the thief had been watching intently. It was a small stall, but the saleswoman knew the price of the work she carried. If either Traveler had to take a guess, they would say she had previously worked as a quartermaster for an army or military group. Her stance spoke of experience; her crossed arms and fire in her eyes told them she was serious. That was all either needed to know.
Therion tucked his scarf behind his neck and out of Tressa's reach. "That all?"
"Yes!" she confirmed. "Then, if you want, I'll leave you alone."
"Hmph. Fine."
Both the thief and merchant gave the weapon saleswoman one last look as she sold a hefty, iron axe to a green adventurer. If they had to guess, they'd say she probably swindled him. Yet he left all smiles, none the wiser.
"While it shows on the outside, that woman has some pretty good inventory further in the stall." Therion started, gesturing to the back half of the covered establishment. "Anyone who knew her, or her work, would immediately ask for the good stock in the back. That makes her a hard and worthless target for any pickpocket watching the square for a mark."
"And...?" Tressa led on.
"She could rob a man blind, like that new guy that's walking away, and he'd thank her for it, like that new guy just did. Her work is her love and her weapons are her children. You'd have to either strike up a good bargain with her or manage to get into that stash somehow." Therion shrugged, turning away. "Either way, it almost isn't worth it. You'd have to be a seasoned, rich fighter, or someone willing to settle on paying more for less."
"Exactly. So, you haggle."
This stopped the thief in his tracks. Tressa smirked. She had him.
"You know," she continued "play a word game or two, bat an eye the merchant's way, and talk down the price. Haggle. That axe that man just left with?" Tressa placed her finger to her chin. "Six-hundred leaves, and I can't budge on that."
Therion turned around, knowing he had been goaded but seemingly wanting to play along with the merchant's game.
He marched back to her, calmly stating, "You want me to believe it's that much? That piece of shit?"
"Okay. Six-hundred and fifty leaves."
The thief was dumbstruck. He rose his voice. "You just rose the price!"
"Yup! Merchants don't like it when you snub their prices or product. Most also consider haggling a game. If you forget either of those rules, like your thieving rules Prim has told me about, then you're going to lose. Seven-hundred."
"Wh-" Therion halted, seeing Tressa about to open her mouth to likely raise the price more. The thief relented. "Listen, the making and casting of that iron show it isn't worth more than five-hundred leaves." For good measure, he tacked on, "And I'm being generous."
"Psh, please! Six-hundred is the base price for it, it's also how much you need it."
"Oh, yeah? And you haven't seen the forge across the square, or the other weapons merchants that have their stalls open? I'm doing you a favor by buying that piece from you. Five-twenty-five, maybe, and even then, I'm losing out."
"No, I'd be losing out. I can settle on five-eighty, and that's really generous," Tressa continued as she took a step towards Therion.
"I'm still not buying it. Literally. One wrong swing and the head is stuck, and then I try to pull it out, and the haft breaks. It's a wooden haft! Five-forty."
"Ugh... you're killing me here. Five-sixty."
Therion shook his head, willing to offer one more haggle on the imaginary axe. "Five-forty-five, or I walk."
He made to turn on his heel before Tressa stopped him. "Wait... Okay, okay, we can settle on the final price: five-hundred and forty-five leaves. Deal?"
The merchant rose her hand to meet Therion's. With a smirk, he shook her hand and muttered, "Deal."
Tressa laughed. "See? A battle of words, wit, and a good deal at the end of it all. Isn't that fun?"
"It did have its merit. I enjoyed myself a bit," Therion admitted, tugging at his scarf.
"Good! Then that's your first lesson, but the day is young, yeah? So, let's keep it going! Like you said, she has the good stuff in the back, and you can't get to it, even if you're as a good a thief as you are. Your bangle will tip her right off."
"Hey!"
"You know it's true. Come on, we'll see if she has a bow. That way, you can stop borrowing my spare and actually have one of your own. One that you actually own and didn't steal."
"Hm... a new bow would be helpful..."
Tressa chuckled and then turned towards the merchant. "Come on, then! Treasure awaits!"
Without waiting for Therion, the merchant made her to the weapons stall and struck up a conversation with the saleswoman. Within seconds, they were already heavily debating the stock she carried, earning a small audience of merchants and shoppers alike. The thief smiled beneath his scarf and shook his head before walking to join Tressa in her battle of haggling.
Alfyn and Therion stared at each other, noticing the new addition to each of their arsenal.
"Nice sword. Starting to look a lot like Mountain. A little too thick for my liking."
The thief nodded at the sheathed blade resting against the group's table. It stood there proudly after its day of work bringing an illicit apothecary to justice.
"Thanks!" Alfyn beamed. "Came in handy today, right, Sir Olberic?"
"Just Olberic, Alfyn. And yes, it did," the largest man in the Octopath Travelers stated proudly. He crossed his arms and smirked pleasingly. "My apprentice here wielded it as if he had done so his entire life. I could not ask for a better bannerman to follow me into battle."
Olberic rose his alcohol-filled hollowed-out coconut to be met by Alfyn's similar drink. They met with a gentle thud and both drink them greedily. Once they had their fill, they set their drinks down, only to find that both now had a white mustache above their upper lips. Tressa noticed this immediately mid-drink and spluttered the mixed alcoholic beverage all over the table. She then fell into a raucous round of laughter.
Therion lifted his coconut off the table just in time. "Careful there, Feather. You almost got some of that into my piña colada."
Tressa took a moment to compose herself and stood up from the table, clutching her sides. "I-I'm sorry, guys! I'll go and grab some... some towels. Oh, by the Flame, those mustaches were too funny!"
She made her way to the bar to ask for something to clean off her mess, still chuckling all the while.
Alfyn and Olberic snickered before rubbing off the remnants of their drink from their lips.
"Will she ever not be this giggly?" the apothecary asked amusedly.
"I do not believe so; if what H'aanit has told me is true. From their late-night conversations, it seems Tressa has a good heart, one that would not be soiled even under the harshest of conditions," Olberic stated proudly, watching the tipsy merchant try to get the barkeep's attention.
"Yeah, figured you'd have learned that from your huntress there, big guy," Therion poked.
"She is not mine, Therion. H'aanit is her own woman."
The warrior stared down the younger white-haired man, only earning a wink in return.
"Sure, sure. And you, Alfyn, that sword impress your cleric, yet?"
The apothecary choked on his drink at hearing that. As Alfyn took a moment to compose himself, Olberic muttered, "Why does he call him by his name?"
Neither Alfyn nor Therion heard him, the thief too busy waiting for the apothecary to respond, and the apothecary too busy trying not to choke on his drink. It took a couple more seconds before the blond-haired man was able to speak properly.
"Well, uh... ya see... that is... um... Olberic?" Alfyn tried, turning to his teacher for help.
The warrior shrugged. "What are you asking me for? I believe you know very well that you protected Sister Ophelia well with your life today. She saved us more than once, I can assure you that. You had your part to play to, Alfyn."
The apothecary blanched before quickly turning red. Therion cackled all the while, happier than ever that both Olberic and Cyrus could be so oblivious to social cues. "He sold you out there!"
At just that moment, Tressa came back to the table to save Alfyn and start cleaning up her mess. "Sold? What's sold?" the merchant asked innocently as she went to work on the spilled drink.
"Nothing, nothing, Feather. Just poking fun at Alfyn, here," Therion commented as he took a drink of his piña colada.
Why does he only call Alfyn his name? Tressa echoed Olberic's previous question internally. "'Mkay, just thought you were talking about our adventures in the marketplace today."
Alfyn and Olberic paused before they raised their drinks to their lips, while Therion gulped his own alcohol down hard, knowing what was to come next. The cat was out of the bag.
"Tress, what'd'ya mean by that?" Alfyn asked as a smile slowly formed on his face.
"Oh, I taught Therion the in's and out's of being a merchant today. That's where he got his new bow from. His own little memorable treasure to remember today!"
Everyone's attention turned to the bow that stood next to Alfyn's sword as it leaned against the table. It was a recurve bow, smaller than H'aanit's or Tressa's, but agile enough to allow its wielder to knock and fire arrows faster than either huntresses' bows. Yet the details of the weapon didn't matter to Olberic or Alfyn; no, they wanted to know more about how Therion received it.
"Do not tell me. Did you actually purchase this bow, Therion?" Olberic questioned incredulously.
The thief sunk his face into his scarf. "More like... haggled. You know, a duel of words and whatever other flowery speech would come from Teach's mouth right now..."
Both warriors started laughing unrestrained, noticing the irony of the situation quite easily. A thief, purchasing something, that made this situation all the more amusing to them. Calling it a 'duel of words' didn't help the situation either, as Therion hoped it would.
The thief waved his hand in the air, hoping to swat away the words thrown his way like pesky flies buzzing around his head. That didn't stop the laughter. Instead, Therion sighed and tried to shift the conversation away from him. "So, Alfyn, how was dealing with that other apothecary? You know, the fake one?"
Everyone calmed down easily enough, realizing that they had probably pushed Therion's buttons enough this night. After all, once Primrose learned about this little factoid, the thief would be hearing about this from the dancer for weeks to come.
Alfyn wiped away an imaginary tear. "Went well 'nough. Beat Vanessa up and then some, exposed her, healed Flynn, now I've got too many requests to keep up with out here."
"He has made quite the name for himself. Even some mercenary companies spoke to us before you and Tressa arrived tonight," Olberic smirked proudly. Before either Traveler could speak, Olberic shook his head fondly. "Do not worry, we did not take any of their contracts. We have other things to focus on for the moment."
"But I think we'll be here for a while." The apothecary rubbed the back of his head. "Unfortunate it came from bad circumstances, but guess that's the way the cookie crumbles, eh?"
"I see Saint's been rubbing off on you," Therion mentioned offhandedly.
"Seems that way, this woulda bothered me more 'fore – still does." Alfyn combed his hand through his hair and whistled a held-in breath. "No apothecary worth their salt should be connin' people like that. At the same time, no one believed in Vanessa, even though her skills are better than the average poison-maker. Poisons have their place in healin' too. She had the right push, then maybe her and things coulda turned out differently."
"Heh, you and Saint are made for each other there."
Alfyn chuckled. "Maybe, but you and Olberic have been pretty helpful, too."
"Hey! What about me, Alfyn?" Tressa whined; her drink already nearly empty.
The group laughed. "You taught me that money is needed, Tressa. Don't worry."
The merchant crossed her arms and huffed. Despite her response, she muttered, "Good answer."
"Strangest thing happened as she was taken away though. Vanessa gave me a wink, don't know what it means, but it seemed to fluster Philia." Alfyn leaned back in his chair to gaze at the ceiling. "'M not sure, either."
"You're still so innocent in so many ways," Therion sighed as he shook his head. "Wouldn't think I'd need to explain the finer art of flirtation with you after you and Sister have been hanging out so much."
"Flirtin'? Wait, you don't mean...?"
The legs of Alfyn's chair slammed to the ground as he stood up. Sweat started to gather on his brow and his eyes shot open. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find the right words to say.
"Ah, that may have something to do with why Sister Ophilia turned in early for the night," Olberic mentioned absentmindedly. "Am I not far off, Therion?"
The thief lifted his drink to his lips, smirking as he spoke into his coconut. "I'd say so, Mountain. I'd say so."
The apothecary bolted from where he stood, knocking his chair to the ground and leaving behind a very amused group of Travelers. They swore they could hear yelling into the night that sounded very familiar and along the lines of "Philia!" and "I didn't know!" However good of an apothecary and warrior Alfyn had become, he still had trouble understanding people's actions and words. He would be in for quite the lecture as soon as he stepped through the doors to Goldshore's inn.
"Primrose is going to have quite the earful for him. He didn't know, but he messed with Sister's feelings. He's going to get it," Therion commentated amusedly, resting into his chair.
Olberic spoke. "So, why do you say their names but not ours?"
"What's that, Mountain?"
"He's just wondering why you say Alfyn and Primrose's names, but you call us by a nickname. Any reason for that?" Tressa asked mischievously.
Unlike Alfyn, Therion knew how to choose his words wisely. He shrugged. "No idea. Guess I just figure their nicknames don't suit them."
"Is that truly all?" Olberic asked, not believing the thief.
Therion nodded but stayed silent.
"Then I shall take your word for it. For now, anyway."
The warrior turned his gaze away from Therion to the sword next to him. "Looks as if I will have to return Alfyn's blade to him, too. Someone will need to check up on him to make sure Primrose has not done anything too brash."
With that, Olberic stood up from his seat and left the tavern, following Alfyn to Goldshore's inn. He left the two merchants behind to their drinking. Surprisingly, it was Tressa who voiced the next, all-important question:
"Wait, who's paying for their drinks?"
It is odd how we end up where we have found ourselves:
Many times, the place where we are in life comes from the product of doing things we swore we would never do and making mistakes.
They play important roles in determining the way our lives can go – alongside success, failure, doing, not doing, and so many more options.
A map could scarcely depict how we have come to where we are now; a researcher could hardly trace the lines of evidence that take us through the winding roads we walk.
The Travelers know this, and learn more from each other and with each other by the day, the hour, and the minute...