What's With this Skull?

[Swift]

The merchant considers for a moment, his face darkening in consternation - and perhaps in a touch of offense. "Very well," he says, his words clipped. "I give you the shard then, and you promise to bring either the satyr or an appropriate compensation for the damage he did to my stall within, what? Is a season enough time? He could be difficult to locate. Bring him back to me and I shall owe you a favor within my means. Bring back an appropriate payment and you may have your pick of my general stock. Sound fair?"

[Dominyk Prise]

Dominyk looked at the Archer again, and then back at the elemental nursing his arm. It feels wrong, like becoming one of them, but it has it’s chance. She sent the darkling a small shrug, as much as he hated it he would follow the lead on this one, he had no ability to hold one end of that contract on his own.

[Degnar]

Degnar wasn't too fond of the idea of making a deal with this hob, but he knew they didn't have much of an option. They had to find this satyr, they had to stop him from using those skulls to keep Hedge gates open. Otherwise, innocent people could wonder into the dangers of the Hedge without knowing what they were getting themselves into...or the dangers of said place could cross over onto the other side, like the pack of Briarwolves had done.

"Sounds alright," replied the Darkling, glancing back at Dominyk and giving him a shrug.

[Swift]

The butcher smiles and taps his long fingers together at the tips. "Excellent, we have an accord then. Shall we shake on it?" He extends his hand to each in turn.

Shaking the merchant's hand will seal the pledge, requiring 1 willpower from each involved.

[Dominyk Prise]

Dominyk didn't want to touch the hob, but a deal was a deal and it had to be sealed some how. Even if it could be like signing away a piece of his own soul.

If he still had a soul after what they had done to him.

He reached out with his faintly plant-green hand and sharp blackened fingertips to grasp the Hobs hand. A gentleman's shake to seal a pledge

-1 wp to seal the pledge

[Degnar]

Degnar hesitated for a moment, reminding himself that this was necessary. He was not at all comfortable with the idea of making any sort of deals with this hob, much less pledging with him. But, he knew that this was the only way. So eventually, the Darkling just shrugged and extended his hand out to the merchant, meeting the handshake that would seal the deal.

-1 WP

[Swift]

As each of the Changelings shake the hobs long, spidery fingers the weight of the Wyrd settles about them, binding word into flesh. The hob smiles toothily at them. "Very good. Here is the shard." Suiting actions to words he hands over the blood-stained glass.

From the main market area a piercing, heart-wrenching cry can be heard. The merchant glances toward the stage where the human woman pleads uselessly through her tears with the stout auctioneer. He ignores her cries and begins the bidding.

"Well, that's annoying," the merchant says. "We've got a screamer." He shakes his head. "Pleasure doing business with you gentlemen, I think I'm going to head into the back until that racket clams down. See you both within the season."

He then turns and heads toward the back of the stall. He glances at the bench where he was working before the Lost showed up. He pauses and sighs. "Bother, I forgot." He turns and picks up the cleaver he was using before and goes back to work.

Outside the stall Tobias waits for the other two. He holds his arm in his hand, still with a slightly pained expression on his face. He nods at both of them, clearly ready to depart the nightmarish fleshmarket.

Feel free to narrate your exit, or any further shopping that you would like to pursue!

[Degnar]

Degnar took the broken shard, studied it for a moment and then placed it inside his messenger bag. If he was bothered by the screaming woman outside the stall, the Darkling didn't show any sign of it. He nodded to the merchant once and then turned towards Dominyk, giving him a nod before he started to make his way out of the place.

"We got what we need," he said in his usual tone to Tobias. "Now let's get out of here."

[Dominyk Prise]

Dominyk gritted his teeth at the sound, probably hard enough be heard or even break one of the sharp thorn-like points. “Agreed.”

The fruit stand had looked interesting, but with the sounds of the now active slave market in process his stomach was starting to turn. He probably couldn’t stand another minute of hedge time in the market for some time.

[Swift]

As the three Lost make their way from the Fleshmarket, the manic and macabre sounds of the unbridled festivities slowly fade behind them as does the dancing glow of the faerie fires. At the end they find themselves once more alone in the dark by the silently obsidian flows of the hedge waters. The night is still dark and the gate is open to the mortal realms.

The ice cold waters part and the trio finds themselves once more in Sacramento's darkened cityscape along the banks of the river. Small details have shifted since they left, however. It would seem that while the moon is new and the sky is black, it is not the same dark evening that they left.

Congrats on surviving the Fleshmarket! I am going to post a brief advertisement for a few new folks to get involved in the story before we continue. Once I am back from vacation and I have a few new bodies we'll move forward. Thanks for a great scene!