Chapter One Hundred and Eighty-Two - Shopping With the Fishes

Chapter One Hundred and Eighty-Two - Shopping With the Fishes

Chapter One Hundred and Eighty-Two - Shopping With the Fishes

Shopping in Insmouth was a strange experience. Not the actual shopping, that part was fairly easy. It wasnt shopping for fun, but for supplies, so it was more of a chore than a fun activity, but I still got to hang out with my best friends, so it was okay.

The thing that was weird were all the looks we got from the townspeople. They werent quite suspicious. It was something else. I guess in a town filled with fishfolk and little else, our band stood out a lot. We were strange.

Maybe that was it. Guarded curiosity as opposed to outright suspicion.

It took a few hours, and two return trips to the Beaver for us to gather up all the supplies we wanted. The locals had plenty of fish to sell, in all sorts of forms. Salted, pickled, and even some smoked fish which I got to taste to confirm it was yummy, tummy-aches aside.

They didnt have wax paper, but they did have these big leaves from one of the local plants that worked well enough. Not much chicken though, and no beef or anything like that. We picked up a few sacks of veggies too, mostly turnips and onions.

Once everything was squared away, we kind of just toured the town. Insmouth was laid out in a sort of crescent-shape, with the bay in the middle. That meant that the town was essentially split with the docks in the middle.

I kinda expected there to be two districts, with the rich in one, and the poor in another, but that didnt seem to be the case. Insmouth was a small enough town that there wasnt much wealth to go around. Everyone was about as well off as their neighbour. Sure, some people seemed better off, but not by that big a margin. It was nice.

The houses were all made of wood, sometimes with stone foundations. A lot of them had steps leading up to their doors, maybe in case of flooding or something? I didnt bother asking really.

It felt like being in a medieval town, only it was really clean.

We should probably head over to the inn if we want to meet Howard today, I said.

I suppose, Amaryllis said. I dont mind playing tourist, but theres just not much to see here. Once youve looked at one hovel, youve seen them all.

I huffed a dont be rude huff at Amaryllis.

Stop doing that! she said.

Giggling, I grabbed her by the talon, then I grabbed Awens hand too, because I could, and I tugged them after me towards the docks.

The only inn in town, the Frank Inn Stein, was a long, low building, with big bay windows at the front that looked into a lounge with a bunch of round tables surrounded by seats. The place looked to be nearly empty. A fire crackled away in the hearth by the corner, and the air smelled like freshly baked bread and frying fish.

A fishfolk woman behind the counter looked up and gave us a big fishy grin. You must be the strangers Ive heard so much about, she said. Welcome to the Frank Inn Stein, Im July! How can I help ya?

Hello! I said. Were here to talk with Howard?

July nodded. Ah, hes out back. I can fetch him.

Does he own the place? I asked.

Howard? No, Im the proprietor. Howard does work here on occasion. Good man, Howard. Helps a lot of folk. You can eye the menus if you want, Ill be back in a blink.

July waved toward some seats off to the side, then ducked back to behind a door that I guessed led to the kitchen.

Alrighty then, I said. The menus were painted onto a thin wooden slab with iron bindings around them. I carried one over to the table July had pointed out and sat, my friends taking the seats around me and leaving one open for Howard. This is mostly just different ways of cooking fish, I said after inspecting the list for a moment.

They are a fishing village, Amaryllis said.

Theyre a village of fishfolk, youd think maybe theyd hesitate to eat fish, I said.

Have you ever eaten a mammal? Bastion asked.

I blinked. Alright, thats fair. I wonder if they have salads. The fish in Needleford made my tummy just a bit queasy, like meat does.

Isnt fish a kind of meat? Awen asked.

I had no idea. Maybe?

Youre both morons, Amaryllis said.

You saw roots? I asked at the same time. Then I jumped.

A New Quest!

Trim the Cruel!

You have heard a rumour about an Evil Root! Discover more! Destroy it!

Bastion looked at me strangely.

Howard eyed us both. We dont poke at our core. We might be isolated and quiet folk, but were not dumb. But we did look. And yes, I guess you could call those things roots. The dungeons since gone weird. More dangerous in places, less in others. You seem to know about them?

I nodded, even after noticing Amaryllis warning look. She might have thought I was an idiot, but I wasnt stupid. Weve encountered them before. Theyre called Evil Roots, and the World doesnt like them.

And how would you know what the World does or doesnt like? Bastion asked.

It told us, obviously, I said before turning back to Howard. Did you manage to break the root?

No. We tried a few things. But its close to the core. Do you know of a way to break it?

I think that Cleaning magic can do it, but it needs to be really strong. Other than that, I dont know. Sorry.

Howard sighed. It was too much to ask. We do have one solution.

You do? I asked.

Howard shifted in his seat. Theres this item. An ancient font of power. Its strong, and its dangerous. But it might be able to break the... you called it an Evil Root? It might be able to break it.

What is it? The font thing, I mean. And why havent you tried yet?

I dont rightly know what it is. I just know that its a weapon. You heard about the fog here? It hides these nasty critters. Light will scare em off a bit, but not as much as youd want. They stay away from the shore though... mostly. This font? They wont come within a league of it.

So its what you use to protect the town?

Howard shook his head. Not us. Another town. They have it in the middle of their town. No walls or anything, because they dont need them. Nothing evil comes close.

Amaryllis leaned forwards. You want to use the thing they use to keep safe in order to save your own dungeon?

Thats the whole of it, yes, Howard said.

Wont they be in danger while you use the font? I asked.

Only for a day or two. Were honest folk, wed return it.

Only if theres anyone left to return it to, Amaryllis snarked. Though I admit that Im curious about this font thing.

Howard raised his hands in surrender. Were not desperate enough for anything wrong-headed. And if we were, then wed find some solution that didnt involve hurting our neighbours. We just want to ask them if theyd help us.

And where do we come in? Bastion asked.

Well, the problem is that Hopsalot is a couple of days' walk to the north. Its not an easy place to reach, even for the hardiest of us. Two days there, then back. Even if we get the font, it might take a day or so to delve to the dungeons core. Then two days back to Hopsalot.

I snapped my fingers as I got it. You want to have us send a message over? Or go there and back with the Beaver Cleaver?

Howard nodded. If Insmouth had its own airship it wouldnt be a problem. As it is... itll be dangerous no matter what. We can pay for the trip there and back. Mostly in supplies and trade goods, but we have a bit of gold.

Ill have to talk to my friends and crew about it, I said. But I wouldnt mind helping.

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