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“Alright, time to dazzle some lizards!” Balthazar turned to the orc standing by the entrance. “Tell the envoy to come in.”

Khargol’s companion disappeared through the gate once again and after a moment, a different figure stepped in.

Slender and tall, the lizard creature was far more humanoid than Balthazar expected. He had two arms, two legs, and walked upright. His head and facial features were clearly reptilian, as was his green and scaly skin, but he was as much of a lizard as he was a person.

Once again, human books had given the crab all the wrong impressions. Writers, what an unreliable bunch.

The lizard looked around the bazaar as he calmly stepped forward, approaching the group without paying them any mind yet.

As he came closer to the light of the fire, Balthazar gave his outfit a closer look. He wore pants and a vest, both made of what the crab first assumed was leather, but upon closer inspection, he realized whatever material it was, it had hard scales all over it, and a slight sheen to it. He had never seen anything like it before.

The merchant peered through his monocle.

[Level 22 Lizard Commander]

Something else that stood out was the fact that the envoy wore no shoes. Looking at his long and sharp claws and how watching him walk made it clear to Balthazar that lizardfolk were digitigrade, it made sense that boots would not be the most practical thing for them.

How had a crab who lived all his life at an isolated pond learned what digitigrade even meant? Human books. Maybe not entirely unreliable after all.

“Greetings,” the lizard said in a soft, slithering voice. His eyes landed on Balthazar and observed him with piercing intensity, their shape and gaze reminding the crab of Blue’s, except for the fact that the drake’s eyes were an intense golden yellow, while the envoy’s were a dark amber.

“Salutations,” Khargol said, bringing his hand to his chest. “As promised, this is the merchant, Balthazar.”

The lizard crossed one arm in front of his chest and extended the other out, taking a gentle bow towards the crab as his tail coiled around one of his legs. As he did, Balthazar spotted the new arrival’s weapon strapped against his back: a long, sharp spear.

“I am Jorg’ath, envoy of my people, the lizardfolk of the deep marshes. Pleased to meet you.”

His voice and mannerisms were polite, yet Balthazar felt as if he was being intensely watched and judged. He needed to make a good impression.

“I am Balthazar, merchant of this, uh… bazaar. Crab of… this here pond. Nice meeting ya, pal!”

The crab smiled and nodded at himself. Level cap or not, his speech and charisma were still unmatched.

“Oh! And this is Henrietta, the fro—I mean toad responsible for nighttime trade here. Big chunk of rock behind me is Bouldy. He’s a friend.”

The golem smiled and waved a hand at the envoy. “Friend.”

“It is an honor to make your acquaintance, friends,” Jorg’ath said, releasing himself from his bow and relaxing his tail. “With me tonight, I bring my loyal watcher. Her name is Jazk.”

The commander extended his hand to his right, towards one of the darker corners of the bazaar.

Balthazar’s gaze followed the envoy’s hand, confused as to what he was talking about. Just as he was starting to wonder if the lizard wasn’t right in the head and had a habit of talking to imaginary friends, the crab jumped in place.

Two eyes appeared in the dark, large and purple, their gaze even more intense than Jorg’ath’s. As Balthazar began making out the shape of the other lizard in the shadows, she stepped forward and into the edge of the flame’s light, giving the hosts a gentle bow of her head.

Even more slender than her commander, Jazk wore the same strange type of scaly leather armor from neck to ankle, her scales darker than his, yet smoother looking.

[Level 20 Lizard Shadowstalker]

“Goodness gracious!” Henrietta exclaimed, startled by the sudden appearance of a second lizard from the shadows.

“Many apologies,” Jorg’ath said. “We did not intend to frighten you. It is customary for watchers to be discreet and to go on unnoticed, in order to better keep… watch.”

The envoy gave an apologetic bow of his head, but a smile still appeared on his face. Somehow, Balthazar felt the situation had greatly amused the lizard.

“No, no, it’s fine,” the crab said, clearing his throat and attempting to speak in a deeper and tougher voice. “I knew she was there all along. I bet the chieftain over here knew, too. Right, Khargol?”

“I did not,” the orc said, crossing his arms and lifting his chin.

Balthazar rolled his eye stalks.

“Anyway, no matter,” said the golden crab. “I’m glad you made it here safe. I appreciate you coming such a long way from home to meet me.”

“The appreciation is all mine,” said Jorg’ath. “It will have been a worthwhile journey, if it means good business to our people.”

“Right! Let’s get down to it then, shall we? I’m sure our mutual friend here told you I’m the best merchant around.”

“I told him you were the only non-human merchant around,” the chieftain corrected, a serious scowl still on his face.

“And thus the best, by default,” Balthazar quickly added, with a nervous chuckle.

“Do not worry,” the lizard envoy said, raising one hand calmly. “Let your own deeds with us speak for you. If you deal fairly with us, we will do much business together.”

“Hmm, speaking of which, what exactly are you here to trade? I don’t see you carrying any baggage. Oh, maybe your, uh, watcher has it?”

Balthazar looked over to the corner again, but Jazk was not there anymore. He looked around, confused, but found no trace of the other lizard.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Just for peace of mind, he glanced back at the pile of cookies he had left on the counter. They were still there, all four and three quarters of them. At least that was a relief.

“You misunderstand, Balthazar,” Jorg’ath said. “I came here today not to sell, but looking to buy from you.”

“Oh, excellent!” the crab exclaimed, perking his shell up and clapping his claws together. “Here to buy then. We love that! And what are you looking for?”

“Alchemy paraphernalia,” the lizard responded.

“Hmm! Sure thing,” Balthazar quickly said, turning his eyes to a nearby shelf. “We got lots of alchemy ingredients around here somewhere. Do you want some bitterbloom petals? Just got a new batch of those. Perhaps some fresh purple moss grown under the southeastern side of a geode rock? Oh, I know! You look like the type who’d be interested in giant toenail clippings. That means they’re toenail clippings from a giant, not that the clippings themselves are gigantic. Well, they also are pretty big, because, you know, they’re from a giant, but I’m sure you get what I mean.”

“No, Balthazar,” Jorg’ath said in a soft voice, raising his hand gently again to attempt to interrupt the overly excited crab. “I am afraid you misunderstand me once more.”

“How so?”

“I said we are interested in alchemy paraphernalia. Items related to the production of alchemical brews, not ingredients. We have a long and rich tradition as makers of potions, poisons, and other concoctions, and our marshes are rich in plenty of ingredients. We have little need to outsource those. What we are after are things such as glass bottles, tools for potion making, like beakers, vials, mortars and pestles.”

“Oh, I see…” said the crab, rubbing his chin. “But if you have such a long tradition making that stuff, how come you don’t already have plenty of tools to do your thing?”

“Ah yes, an astute question, as expected from such a famously astute merchant,” the lizard said with a smile and an interested gaze. “We have our means and ways to produce our poisons and remedies the traditional way. A more… rudimentary way, if you will. I would like to change that. For you see, we recently began learning of how humans do their own alchemy, their precise ways of measuring, their longer-lasting metal tools, instead of wood or stone, and their ability to achieve greater purity and efficiency through use of glassware. I would like to bring such advancements to our kind, for while we may possess ancient knowledge on the arts of alchemy that no human could ever hope to match, it shames me to admit they do have the advantage on those other fields.”

“I see, I see,” Balthazar said, crossing his arms and nodding his shell. “Got to admit, not what I was expecting. I’m a general trader, mostly. Not specialized in alchemy stuff or anything.”

“So you cannot help us?” inquired the envoy. “That would be such a disappointment after coming all this way. Our kind may be great alchemists, but we do not have a tradition of forging metals or the art of crafting glass. It would take a great deal of time and dedication to develop those tools ourselves. We were very much hoping to expedite this process through you and your mercantile connections, Balthazar.”

“No, no! Don’t get me wrong, I can provide you with the stuff,” the crab quickly assured. “I just don’t really have much of that around right now. I didn’t really know what to expect from you. However, I’m sure I can come up with something for tonight, and if you give me a little time, I’ll have more proper merchandise for you at our next meeting.” Balthazar turned to the toad. “Henrietta, if you don’t mind, give me a little help.”

The crab skittered his way behind some boxes and shelves with the toad hopping close behind.

“Alright, I only got an old mortar and pestle around here somewhere, but there are plenty of glass bottles around. I’m thinking I’ll sell him this junk for now, to keep him hooked, and before his next visit I’ll get Tristan to buy some basic alchemy tools in bulk for cheap from the town’s alchemy shop, and then sell them to the lizards for a much higher price.”

“Junk? Reselling for an inflated price? Isn’t that a bit dishonest of you, Balthazar?” said Henrietta with a slightly angry croak.

“Shhh!” the crab hushed, before peering through a gap between the shelves. “It’s called smart business, Henrietta. If I can get him what he needs, it’s only fair that I make a profit, don’t you think? He stills gets the items he wants, without having to deal with humans directly, who’d never trade with him, anyway.”

“I just hope you know what you’re doing,” she said, giving the other merchant the side-eye. “Don’t go ruining what could be a good future business relationship for a quick profit.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin anything. After all, it’s you who will be dealing with the lizardfolk in the future, not me,” Balthazar added, giving her a grin. “Now hurry, help me collect any empty glass bottles we have lying around. Get some of those over there as well, dump their contents, wash them in the pond, and bring them too.”

“These? Are you sure we should waste the potions?” the toad asked, pointing at a row of bottles filled with a light blue liquid.

“Yes, do it. They’re intelligence potions. Nobody ever buys those. It’s a mystery why,” the crab said, with a sarcastic tone at the end.

“Alright, if you say so. What about these?” She pointed at another row of orange potions behind the first ones.

“Hmm, no. Not those, they’re fire resistance potions. Adventurers buy those now and then. Let’s keep them.”

After hastily collecting everything he could find, the golden merchant rejoined Khargol and Jorg’ath by the front of the bazaar, carrying a large basket over his shell.

“Back!” he exclaimed, putting the basket down. “This is what I could get on such short notice. A few empty glass vials, a fine mortar and pestle for your appreciation, and plenty of empty glass bottles for all your potion needs.” He looked back at the toad returning from the shore, who quickly started retrieving even more bottles from her Bag of Holding. “And even some more right here.”

The envoy looked at the selection of items in the basket while nodding his head.

“I understand this was very short notice for you, Balthazar, but I am glad you still managed to provide such an impressive sample of goods. You truly live up to your reputation as a merchant. I have no doubt you will have much more for us next time.”

Balthazar glanced at the toad with a knowing expression. She rolled her eyes.

“So long as you have the pay, I will always have the goods,” the confident crab declared. “Which brings us to the matter of payment for these. Sorry, but we don’t have a policy of free samples here.”

“Of course, I understand,” Jorg’ath softly said, reaching for the side of his waist and retrieving a small pouch. “I am told you deal in human currency. Golden coins. The swamps of our homeland gift us with many surprising things, including the occasional unfortunate dead adventurer who met their end in the bogs. We waste not, so we retrieve everything the marsh provides us with, including their coin, even if we have little use for it ourselves. I am hoping you will find this a suitable amount for these.”

The lizard gently placed the pouch on a nearby wooden table.

Balthazar looked at it through his monocle, and it nearly fell off his eye. 250 gold.

“A fair amount, fair lizard,” the merchant said. “In fact, on the spirit of starting this relationship right, I won’t even haggle. I’ll just take this as payment and let’s call it there. Rest assured, I’ll procure more of this stuff for your next visit.”

“I am wondering,” Khargol started, uncrossing his arms, “how exactly do you plan to keep a supply of things coming and going, especially involving humans, without them ever getting suspicious about your side of the business? Questions will be asked, sooner or later.”

“I’ve thought about that, dear orc,” said Balthazar, smiling and picking up the money pouch. “I intend to get ahead of all that by also upgrading my relationship with Ardville. I am here to stay, so it’s only right that we establish some kind of trade deal. Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll handle it all, and you won’t have to worry about any pesky humans.”

Both the orc and the toad gave the crab a glare, although probably for different reasons, Balthazar imagined.

“I do not mean to be an ungracious guest,” Jorg’ath said, picking up the basket, “but I would very much like to return to my people with these as soon as possible, and we have a long way back. If this is agreeable with you, I would like to say our farewells now.”

“Of course, my new favorite green client!” Balthazar cheered, looking at Khargol from the corner of his eye and smirking mischievously. “Let me walk you guys out. You coming, Henrietta?”

The toad waved them down with a foreleg. “Oh no, that’s alright, someone needs to go sort out all the mess of armor and weapons you guys left all over the floor, and I’m not about to wait for poor Druma to wake up and do it. It was a pleasure to see you, gentlemen. Until next time!”

After a brief exchange of nods, she hopped further into the bazaar, while the rest of the group stepped out onto the road with Bouldy following behind.

As they arrived outside, under the chilly air of the plains, dark and silent, lit up only by the flames of the torches the two guarding orcs were holding, Balthazar realized Jazk was standing right behind Jorg’ath, half covered by the darkness at the edge of the halo of light. Once again, the crab had no clue where she had come from.

“Well, fellas, it was—”

“Quiet!” the lizard envoy hissed, raising one hand and stretching his neck up.

Balthazar frowned at the command. “A bit rude, don’t you—”

“Silence, crab!” Khargol said, in a whispering but still deep voice. “Listen.”

The merchant tried to listen, but all he heard was the soft crackling coming from the torches, and all he saw were three orcs and two lizards standing at the ready, tense and apprehensive, as they stared at the tall grass from the plains.

“Guys, I really don’t hear…”

Finally, he heard it, like a chorus of moaning in the distance. And then he saw it as well: an aura of ethereal green light forming over the grass, emanating from a slowly creeping cloud of green fog growing in their direction.

“Oh. That.”