Zarra led him through the dense undergrowth, her steps precise and silent. Lance, on the other hand, struggled to keep up, his boots crunching on twigs and leaves.
"Try not to sound like a herd of ogres," Zarra whispered, glancing back at him with a smirk.
"I'm doing my best," Lance muttered, his gentle smile twitching slightly. She would still find a way to make jokes during serious situations.
As they got closer, Lance tried even harder to be silent. They stopped at the edge of a clearing, where the beastkin caravan had set up a temporary camp. The group consisted of five individuals—a tall lion-man with a mane of golden fur, a sleek panther-woman sharpening a blade, and three others who appeared to be loading crates onto a wagon, appearing less like warriors.
Lance studied them carefully. They were clearly well-equipped, their movements confident but not overly aggressive.
"What's the plan?" Zarra asked, her voice barely audible.
"We approach cautiously," Lance said. "They're traders, so they're probably open to negotiation. But we can't assume they're friendly."
Zarra nodded, her expression unreadable. "I'll translate for you. Let's hope they're not in the mood for a fight."
Lance stepped into the clearing, his hands raised in a non-threatening gesture.
The lion-man's ears twitched, and he turned to face them, his sharp eyes narrowing. The panther-woman rose to her feet, bearing her blade by her side at the ready, while the others paused in their work to watch the newcomers.
Zarra stepped forward, speaking quickly in what Lance assumed to be the common tongue. He couldn't understand much of what was said, only being able to grab words and meanings sparingly.
The lion-man tilted his head, his gaze flicking to Lance, then back to Zarra. After a tense moment, he nodded and motioned for them to approach.
"They're willing to talk," Zarra said quietly, leading Lance closer.
The lion-man introduced himself as Rahzak, the leader of the caravan. His voice was deep and commanding, though not unfriendly.
Lance offered a respectful nod, which was returned, then, speaking softly to Zarra. "Let him know we're interested in trading." Lance told her.
Zarra relayed the message, and Rahzak's ears twitched again, his sharp eyes appraising Lance. He responded in his guttural tone of voice, gesturing to the crates.
"They have material ores," Zarra translated. "Metals, herbs, and some tools. Rahzak says they're willing to trade for food or furs. I told them we lack money to complete any trade."
Lance nodded as his mind raced with some thoughts. The ores could be invaluable for Kaeli's work, and the tribe had a surplus of dried meat and animal pelts from their hunts.
"Tell him we can offer both, but more of furs," Lance said.
Zarra conveyed the message, and Rahzak's expression shifted slightly. He spoke again, his tone more relaxed.
"He agrees," Zarra said. "He says they'll trade with us."
The exchange went smoothly. Lance had the goblins bring out bundles of raw food and furs, while the beastkin unloaded crates of gleaming metal and bundles of rare herbs. As the goods changed hands, Lance couldn't help but think of other things they might need.
Rahzak offered a toothy smile as the exchange concluded, speaking a few final words to Zarra.
"He says we're welcome to trade with them again," Zarra translated. "But they'll expect fairer terms next time, the fur wasn't the best, and the food wasn't exactly much."
Lance understood perfectly, 'building relationship, huh? Much welcome.'
Lance nodded. "Let him know we appreciate his generosity. And that we'll be ready when they return. Also, we need seeds, he can bring that next time."
After Zarra relayed the message, Rahzak inclined his head, then turned to his group, who began packing up their camp, they were getting ready to move anyway.
As the beastkin disappeared into the forest, Lance let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"That went well," he said, glancing at Zarra.
"We got lucky," Zarra said, smirking. "Not all beastkin are as reasonable I've heard."
"Noted," Lance said with a chuckle.
…
Back at the camp, Kaeli's eyes lit up when she saw the materials.
"This is good!" she said, inspecting the pieces of metal and ores with gleaming eyes. "Really good! With this, I can start working on proper weapons, real ones, not just cast iron."
Lance grinned. "Make them count."
Zarra smirked. "I'm definitely getting some new daggers, right?"
"You bet." Kaeli grinned almost ear to ear, packing everything into her forge.
…
Later that evening, as the camp settled into its usual rhythm, with goblins working on different things, Lance found himself sitting with Lia near the fire.
"I need your help," he said, his tone serious.
Lia looked up from the scroll she'd been studying, her yellow eyes curious. "With what?"
"Common," Lance said. "I can't keep relying on others to translate for me. If we're going to make contact with more traders, outsiders, or anyone else, I need to be able to communicate on my own, properly."
Lia's lips quirked into a faint smile. "I was wondering when you'd bring that up."
"So, you'll teach me?" Lance asked, a bit excited and relieved.
"Of course," Lia chuckled. "Did you think I'd say no? But, it won't be so easy. Common is a complicated language, especially if you didn't grow up speaking it… at least, that's what I've heard from those who try to learn it."
"I've got time," Lance said, his determination clear.
Lia nodded. "Then we'll start tomorrow."