ZEN - Part Two [COMPLETED] [#WATTYS2017]

Or Him. Or Him.

Chapter 89 - Or Him. Or Him.

"Alright. Oi. Yes, I'm amazing, but you should already know that. Ground rules for you all to follow, and if you break them, it's fifty laps around Kileah with three suits on." Zen quickly stowes her hand-mirror, then raises her hand to count off fingers. "No-one goes anywhere alone. You stick in a group of four. If someone needs to go to the rest-room, you pair off, 'cause people go missing all the time. Second. You will stay in the commercial district. You will not wander, especially you two."

Charlie and Uma both blink in tandem, then glance at each other to display their confusion. It wasn't like they'd... okay, yeah, they were probably the most-likely to bugger off somewhere.

"Third, keep track of the stores and merchandise that appeals to you. Later on, I'll be entering negotiations to either bring a brach to Jozejemi, or at least import their goods for sale. And if we can't buy in bulk, then we'll simply have it made for us by a bunch of people in Galtaire. Any questions?"

"We're at an odd number, so it can't be done in fours."

The small Scout glances up to the Poodle-kin, Polly, then hurriedly looks around for an esitmate. "There's twenty of yuh's, right?"

"Twenty-one."

"Well? Then an extra person shuffles into another group. Before I tell you to go cause trouble, check your packs an' make sure everyone's got their wallets." Zen waits for each of the teens to pull out their coin-purses, then motions Bertie forward and passes off a dozen gold coins. "Get me a buncha cakes an' stuff for later."

"Uh... y' could prob'ly buy an entire bakery for this much."

"Then only get the good stuff. From two or three places. Alright. Bugger off. Have fun or somethin'. And don't murder anyone. They kinda frown on that thing, here." The short Cat-woman shoos the teens away, then pointedly waits until they've all disappeared before turning to address the other Founders and the pair of men. "Okay. Quick stop at the black market for a time and place, then we go slaughter some feckers. How're you two doin' with your new shinies?"

Carson offers a shrug as he kicks out his leg. "It's pretty damn good. Hell, I'm almost back t' walkin' like normal, 'cept for a slight squeak."

"I feel like a Knight, or one 'f the King's Guard." Gerald waives his articulated glaive around, with the attackment of a normal cast-steel hand stuck in a half-grip. At least he'd had the sense to pop a leather glove onto it. "Except for a little pinching when tryin' to block across my chest, I barely notice a difference."

"Well, you're wearin' about eight white-gold worth of mithril, so you'd better not lose it."

"It's attached three different ways. It's not goin' anywhere."

"Whatever. You lose it, I'm selling you into slavery." Zen beckons her group to follow, and leads the way through the winding alleys over to the black market's textile-front.

In less than four minutes they're pacing out into the undercroft, and the small Scout can't help but have her tail swish at the exclamations of the other women, who'd never been down there before.

The men just grunt and point at things that catch their eye. Typical male shoppers.

After leading them to the centre of the bazaar, Zen moves over to the stall with a lone question-mark sign, and greets the young-looking elf with just a tilt of her chin.