The Hand of Thyle

Episode 4

After one night camping outside of Azer, Dimelza knew something was up when they started off the day heading west, away from their vault. All she could do was tug at Daia's sleeve with her teeth and bleat in the hope of receiving an explanation, but her companion feigned ignorance. Several hours later, the main road had brought them to the river which cut down through the central kingdom, the Heart of Thyle.

The nearest dock crawled with a small crew unloading crate after crate and barrel after barrel from the hull of a river Cog. One crewmember dropped off his burden before being stopped by an elderly Gnome. The Gnome was directed to an authoritative figure who was settling funds with the apparent recipient of the cargo.

Daia must have noticed this as well, for she lurched forward toward the Half-Elf authority the next instant. Dimelza followed behind, closely enough that she would not be mistaken for belonging to anyone else. She had made that mistake before and feared the day when she might be found by a butcher.

With a shiver, Dimelza watched Daia step up to the man just as the Gnome walked toward the newly emptied Cog. "How much to get to Bairdston?"

Dimelza scrutinized her companion. What could they possibly need on the western shore of the river so far north that it may as well have been in Raejordia? Not only that, but Daia was loath to part with her money if it could be avoided. To offer a payment without first at least lowballing the man signaled a desperation that Dimelza had not seen from Daia in a while.

In fact, she would have thought her more desperate than ever to hold onto the money, for magic was costly. The only explanation Dimelza could think of was that this was a ploy to steal more money than Daia spent. Dimelza needed to find out what her companion was up to so she could put a stop to it.

The Half-Elf gazed down at the Halfling and said with a tone of finality, "Ten coppers. You're lucky I have business there, or else you'd have to ride all the way up."

Slowly withdrawing ten pieces from a stolen purse, Daia held them out to him. Dimelza could see the pain it brought to Daia and the reluctance with which she moved. The trick was not yet clear, but Dimelza knew there had to be one.

The young Half-Elf looked down at the coins skeptically, then over at Dimelza before saying, "Ten coppers each."

Dimelza waited for Daia to retract the money and find a cheaper way across, but she did not. Instead, she shook her head with feigned helplessness and asked, "You wouldn't separate a poor Halfling from her beloved goat, would you? Her only friend in the world?"

With a quick glance at the coin purse still visible on Daia's belt, he answered, "Of course not. But it's still ten each." In a mockery of Daia's tone, he asked, "You wouldn't want a poor boatsman to go hungry, would you?"

With a scoff, Daia procured ten more pieces and gave only a low grumbling protest. "Alright then," she said, "but I warn you, people who take my money are liable to receive ridiculous nicknames and pure vexation the whole time I'm around."

The man eyed her curiously. "What nickname would you give me, then?"

With a shrug and a smile, Daia said, "It's subject to change, but for now, I'll call you Fishbreath."

Fishbreath smiled. "You do realize I could refuse you passage on my ship, right?"

"You can," Daia agreed while jingling the coins in her hands, "but you won't." Taking his hand and dropping her payment into it, she walked past him onto the dock with her chin in the air.

As she started to step onto the boat, he turned and asked over his shoulder, "Have you ever heard of small dog syndrome?"

With a disbelieving chuckle, Daia asked, "Are you calling me a dog?"