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(IC) We be Jammin' (5e PBP)
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<blockquote data-quote="Kobold Stew" data-source="post: 8777349" data-attributes="member: 23484"><p>Coming to the market meant coming to the city, and that wasn't something Sanderson did often. With his long neck, he gazed down on much of the crowd milling about, and with his scaly hide, many of the marketgoers were content to maintain some space. Nevertheless, the smells were overpowering. This many people in one place always created smells that seemed odd to the lizard, smells that could be burned from his nostrils if he had his way. </p><p></p><p>Of those that had been hatched in his clutch, 318 moons ago now, Sanderson was one of only six that had survived to adulthood, and he was the only one who had ever travelled far enough to encounter a human habitation (which is how he considered Kingsport), and so to encounter this particular smell. He had spent enough among humans and other species that he felt he could travel with familiar comfort through these streets. </p><p></p><p>He had commissioned the golden acorn two months previous, and was pleased with the craftsman's finished product when he saw it. He paid with some small diamonds he had saved up, and he wondered when he would get more. YOu could never have enough diamonds in your pouch, his clutch-nurse had always said. Though it was small, the delicate workmanship was much finer than what he himself would have fashioned, and he took some pride in feeling its shape beneath his belt, where he would keep it for ready access. </p><p></p><p>Soon he would return to the forest, following the coastline until he would no longer be seeing the regular traffic of ships to and from the harbour. Before he left, though, he would buy some of the deepwater fish that might be for sale. He or his siblings could always capture what was within the lagoon, swimming on the landward side of the reef, but coming home with something exotic from beyond the reef would be a welcome treat, if he could pack it back.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Kobold Stew, post: 8777349, member: 23484"] Coming to the market meant coming to the city, and that wasn't something Sanderson did often. With his long neck, he gazed down on much of the crowd milling about, and with his scaly hide, many of the marketgoers were content to maintain some space. Nevertheless, the smells were overpowering. This many people in one place always created smells that seemed odd to the lizard, smells that could be burned from his nostrils if he had his way. Of those that had been hatched in his clutch, 318 moons ago now, Sanderson was one of only six that had survived to adulthood, and he was the only one who had ever travelled far enough to encounter a human habitation (which is how he considered Kingsport), and so to encounter this particular smell. He had spent enough among humans and other species that he felt he could travel with familiar comfort through these streets. He had commissioned the golden acorn two months previous, and was pleased with the craftsman's finished product when he saw it. He paid with some small diamonds he had saved up, and he wondered when he would get more. YOu could never have enough diamonds in your pouch, his clutch-nurse had always said. Though it was small, the delicate workmanship was much finer than what he himself would have fashioned, and he took some pride in feeling its shape beneath his belt, where he would keep it for ready access. Soon he would return to the forest, following the coastline until he would no longer be seeing the regular traffic of ships to and from the harbour. Before he left, though, he would buy some of the deepwater fish that might be for sale. He or his siblings could always capture what was within the lagoon, swimming on the landward side of the reef, but coming home with something exotic from beyond the reef would be a welcome treat, if he could pack it back. [/QUOTE]
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