*
"So what you're trying to say is this, and correct me if I'm wrong," spat out Dirgen Ocean, Captain of the seafaring ship, Dirgen's Pride. "You're asking me and me crew to make a trip across the Inner Sea, this close to winter, with no cargo beyond passengers and their gear for a mere ten gold pieces? Ahr! I don't think so."
For the first time in his life, Hal had the opportunity to witness Garn look foolish. The big man tried very hard not to chuckle and was easily able to suppress the urge after catching the look of death the mage shot his way.
Garn, obviously tired of haggling with the grubby Dwarven captain, tried a different approach. "Well, what do you think would be a fair price?"
Dirgen eagerly rubbed his calloused hands together, producing a sound similar to wood against sandpaper. "Well now," he began with a very greedy little smile on his wide lips. Dirgen was ugly, even among dwarves. His hair was greasy and flat with gray speckled through it haphazardly. He was undernourished and his breath stank horribly of rotted fish. He wore clothes that were mismatched and he had a long scar that ran down across his face from scalp to chin. Obviously, this was the blow that caused him to lose his eye, consequently explaining the eye patch he wore. His one remaining aqua blue eye glistened. "A fair price, you say? Ahr, let me think."
"Emphasis on the word 'fair', Captain." The mage gestured over to Hal with his head. The big man casually interlaced his fingers and folded his hands over. His knuckles cracked loudly amidst the bustle of the docks, sounding like large tree limbs being snapped in two. "A strong emphasis, captain."
Visibly, Dirgen quickly re-estimated the price he was about to offer in his mind before speaking. "I honestly couldn't take you across for anything less than fifty gold. And," he cut in before Garnthalisbain could verbally assault him. "Don't even be thinking about haggling with me, mage. You may be all-powerful and have your bully-boy here to back you up, but look at it from my point of view. It's the end of the season. A week, maybe less until winter. My crew needs a good long rest and my mainsail needs to be mended. Odds are bad that you'll be able to find another ship to take you to Southmoor until after the winter passes, so this is all you've got. Take it, or leave it." He folded his wiry arms over his chest and scratched at his unkempt beard furiously.
Garn seemed ready to explode. He surged forward to begin a furious verbal and physical attack on the dwarven sailor when Hal clapped a hand over his friend's mouth and gently pulled him a few steps away. He didn't remove his hand until he was certain that the mage wasn't about incinerate him with some sort of magic.
"What?" snapped Garn angrily once he was free to speak. "Are you going to tell me that you have a better idea? If so I'd really like to hear it."
Hal was slow to respond, as he always was. "Look Garn, let's try to be calm. We can't afford to pay the money, right?"
Garn scowled up at his friend. Then shook his head and looked angrily to the side. "No," he whispered. "Even if we managed to sell all of our food and the horses and anything else we might need... There's no way we could afford it. Not by fifteen pieces."
Hal nodded. "But, at the same time, we can't afford to miss this boat either. Right?"
Garn huffed angrily. "I thought I already said that."
"You did, I think." Hal looked over at the dwarf who was still waiting patiently. "Wait here, Garn. I want to try something." He started to move towards Dirgen.
The mage grabbed at the big man's cloak and hauled him back. "What?!" he hissed incredulously. "Don't say those words! You barely even know what they mean!" He released Hal and, with great effort, restrained himself. "I'll go have another talk with the good captain. Maybe I can haggle him down in price a bit more... "
"And maybe I'll learn how to read and write as well as you do," Hal cut in sarcastically. He placed his hand on Garn's chest and quickly removed it after the mage stared at it pointedly. "Look, just let me try this. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. You can try your idea later. Just... let me try this. Please?"
The mage looked from Hal to Dirgen and back to Hal. He sighed dejectedly. "Why not?" He huffed, motioning towards Dirgen. "Go nuts."
Hal grinned and walked back to the captain.
Dirgen saw Hal coming forward with a smile on his face and suddenly got nervous, fumbling for the belaying pin at his belt. Hal, seeing what the dwarf was doing and put out both of his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Whoa there, be calm. I just wanna talk, okay?"
Dirgen kept his hand on the pin and watched the big man warily. "Fifty gold, that's my price."
Hal's face twisted sadly then, as if he were about to shuffle away disconsolately. Then, his features toughened up and he turned back to the dwarf. "Look," he said in a firm voice, almost demanding even. "Try to look at this from our point of view. We understand you don't want to lose money this late in the season and all that. But," he went on even more firmly. "We have to go to Southmoor. And we need your ship to do it."
"All you need is fifty gold, I said." Dirgen clenched his hand around the belaying pin.
Hal sighed. "Would you please stop that? If I were going to threaten you I'd have done it by now. But I'm not going to. What would be the point? You'd hardly be worth the effort." Hal put as much contempt that he could muster into that last line.
Dirgen's face got very angry and he whipped out his belaying pin, brandishing it fiercely before him. "Ahr! How dare you!" he blustered with a blast of foul breath. "I've fought with many a being, often they were even larger than you yourself... "
Almost casually, Hal reached out and disarmed the dwarf before Dirgen could do anything about it. "Yeah, and you probably lost to them all." Dirgen lost his bluster and looked quite abashed. Hal leaned in close to the dwarf and handed back the pin. He whispered softly to the captain. "Let's face it, you're probably very strong from working on your boat all the time and you most likely even have a decent sense of balance. But it looks like you don't eat regularly or get proper sleep. And, in all honesty, what would you really know about fighting? Not very much I'd guess." The dwarf eyed Hal warily.
"What if I could change that for you? What if you made a big show of how you and your crew were going to make one last trip across the Inner Sea to Southmoor." Dirgen's eyes narrowed curiously. "If you promised entertainment for passengers, you know, by giving some bards free passage as long as they entertained your guests for you. Then you charge an arm and a leg for these people to board your ship. They'll pay it, people are always looking for excitement, right?"
"Ahr," Dirgen growled thoughtfully. "Your idea has some merit. But what does that have to do with my fighting prowess."
"You see, when we're well on our way I'll pretend to get drunk one night and create a big scene in front of the guests. I'm a fairly large guy right? Pretty intimidating?" Dirgen nodded agreeably. "So, then you come along and tell me to settle down. At which point I turn on you and make rude comments. What do you do? The only decent thing you can do as captain. You try to restrain me and when that fails... we fight." Hal leaned in even more closely, catching an unfortunate whiff of the dwarf's foul odor. He forced down the sudden nausea and pressed on. "And in the end, after making it look good, you win."
Dirgen's face took on a particularly strange look. "Ahr," he grunted again. "What if no one shows up?"
Hal started to laugh. "I'll tell you what," he said. "Just to show you that I'm honest about all this, me and my friends'll pay fifteen gold up front for passage. On top of that, I'll personally lend a hand with whatever needs doing aboard ship. How's that sound?"
The dwarf was still apparently undecided. He stared the big man directly in the eyes for a long moment, sizing him up somehow. A glint was hidden there in the back of his mind but was suddenly gone. "Will you swear to me that you'll keep yer’ word?"
Hal's face got very solemn. "I swear it, Dirgen. I swear on whatever amount of honor I have to my name."
Dirgen seemed to waver on the edge of indecision a moment longer. Then he quickly made
up his mind and grabbed Hal's hand, shaking it vigorously with a full toothy grin. "Ahr! Yer' on, big man!" he said enthusiastically. Looking past Hal to Garn he called out. "Mage? I've decided to reconsider. I'll go as low as fifteen gold, just this once. I'd like it in advance though."
Garnthalisbain's jaw dropped in surprise. Wordlessly he looked from Hal back to the captain and then over to Hal once again. Mutely, he strode forward and paid the dwarf fifteen gold pieces. Hal nodded one last time and headed away, back to the inn where they were staying. Garn started and quickly followed after him.
After several minutes of walking in silence, Garn burst out. "What did you say to him?" he demanded forcibly, quavering on the edge of sanity.
Hal turned his head towards the small mage, his usual slack expression imprinted on his face. "Huh?" he asked eloquently.
"The dwarf," Garn repeated. "What did you say to him?"
Hal shrugged. "Nothin'."
"Nothing?! You convinced him to reduce his asking price by seventy percent by saying nothing?!" Garn's hands clutched at the air before him in frustration. "You must have said something! Did you threaten him?"
"Nope."
"Hurt him?"
"Nope."
"You must have said something!" Garn said finally, the anger in his voice dipped with venom.
Hal concentrated a moment or two, as if going over the conversation in his mind. His fingers twitched, trying to visualize what he was saying. He looked down at his fingers as he concentrated and, consequently, didn't see the low sign for Felio's Fresh Fish Emporium until after he had painfully cracked his noggin on it. He clapped both of his hands to his forehead and danced around in a little circle, all the while chanting; "Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow."
Garn covered his eyes with the palm of one hand. "I give up," he muttered as he turned and strode off towards the inn.