The next day, Gravel was walking through the streets of the Grand Market, holding a green leaf plate filled with small shrimp in one hand.
Even though the sun had risen hours ago, the streets were shaded by large, long cloths stretched between the wagons, shielding passersby from the sunlight. The colorful shadows cast by the cloths above created a unique atmosphere, with various hues blending on the ground below.
The previous night, Reave and Kein had returned to the wagon and informed the group that Gulick was in the Grand Market. Though they said Gulick was no longer targeting the statue, Diara knew he was someone who moved for money, unbound by notions of good or evil. Thus, they decided to cautiously observe the situation for a while before leaving the Grand Market.
'Iris is guarding the wagon, so even if Gulick knows its location and tries to attack, I'm not too worried… but I do feel a bit guilty wandering around alone.'
Gravel thought, picturing Iris stationed alone by the wagon.
"Should I buy her some of these shrimp when I head back? Or maybe a lobster from the tank I saw earlier would be nice."
Gravel was munching on a steamed shrimp he had picked up while walking alone earlier, purchased from a massive tank-wagon with thick glass walls. The tank was filled with shrimp and lobsters, and upon a customer's order, the vendor would scoop out the seafood, steam it on the-spot without any seasoning, and serve it on a plate skillfully crafted from a thick leaf plucked from a sturdy tree stem set up beside the wagon.
Other passersby, like Gravel, were captivated by the tank-wagon, their eyes following the swift movements of the shrimp inside. Entranced, they would slow their steps and order shrimp as if under a spell.
"Was it this way to the market's center?"
Gravel muttered, standing at a fork where the path split into several directions. Feeling lost, he looked around, trying to recall the route to the octagonal arena of the Trea Company, which Dianf had mentioned the day before.
"Maybe I should just ask at one of the shops."
As Gravel scanned the nearby wagons, one shop caught his eye.
It was a wagon three or four times larger than the others, unlike any he had seen in typical villages or cities. It had a large roof, several wide windows, and a grand wooden staircase leading to a door that opened into the wagon's interior. Potted plants with green leaves adorned various spots, and the roof was covered entirely with long, thin blades of grass, giving it the appearance of a living meadow.
The wagon's unique appearance was striking, but what drew Gravel's attention was the stall set up in front of it.
Approaching the stall, Gravel spoke to a figure lounging deeply in a chair, unsure whether they were a dog or a wolf-like anthro.
"Nice fishing rods!"
Gravel said, eyeing the assortment of fishing rods displayed in various sizes and lengths at the front of the stall.
"Snake wood, lance wood, purple heart, green heart… we've got rods made from all sorts of materials. Looking for something specific?"
the shopkeeper said, looking up at Gravel from the chair.
"Could you recommend one?" Gravel asked.
During his time in Froikton, Gravel had occasionally passed by rivers and seen fishermen with rods in hand, leisurely fishing. 'That looks like a nice way to spend time.' he had thought back then. But with the demands of adapting to a new world, gathering information, taking on daily quests, and searching for the Skyhold, he had no time for such leisure. The thought of fishing had sunk to the back of his mind.
Now, seeing the array of fishing rods lined up at the stall, that old spark reignited.
"Hmm… you don't look like a seasoned angler."
The shopkeeper said, standing up and walking along the display of rods.
"As I mentioned, a snake wood rod or a green heart rod might be good. What do you think? Snake wood is three gold coins, green heart is five."
"What's the difference between the two?"
Gravel asked, pointing to a dark brown rod and a lighter brown one with a faint green tint.
"Snake wood bends smoothly, so it's great for catching even the smallest nibbles and holds up well in humid conditions, making it easy to maintain. Green heart is a bit stiffer but incredibly sturdy, so you don't have to worry about it breaking even if a big one bites."
The shopkeeper explained, running a hand along the rods.
"You're probably thinking the price is steep, right? It's natural to think that, since these are several times more expensive than other rods. But look here—these rods can be disassembled, making them shorter than the sword you're carrying. And every rod in my shop has been crafted by my own hands, so you can trust their quality. They're worlds apart from the mass-produced stuff churned out by apprentices in workshops."
The shopkeeper's words quickened as he spoke, revealing both the reason for the high price and his pride as a craftsman.
Gravel's thoughtful expression, hand on his chin as he examined the rods, likely gave the impression that he was interested but hesitant about the cost. The shopkeeper, experienced in reading customers, knew that someone who didn't flinch at hearing three or five gold coins likely had the means and intent to buy.
Instead of offering a discount, he believed explaining the quality and value of the rods was the best approach, so he continued his enthusiastic explanation.
"What about that rod over there? The blue one… no, the one with a hint of purple in the blue."
Gravel said, pointing to a rod that stood out among the others.
Most of the rods had a faint trace of mana imbued in them, and Gravel had already sensed this, which helped him understand the high prices even before the shopkeeper's explanation. But as he scanned the rods, one in particular caught his eye—a rod imbued with significantly more mana than the others.
"That's made from a tree called Wivre Nest."
The shopkeeper said, hesitating slightly.
"It's an extremely rare material, so the price is… well, quite high."
"How much is it? It's okay to ask, right?" Gravel said with a slight smile.
"Thirty gold coins. But… since you seem to know quality when you see it, I'll make it twenty-eight! I'll even throw in a geared reel for the line, a set of hooks, and a bag to carry it all."
The shopkeeper said, his instincts telling him this customer was ready to buy. The man didn't seem like an expert angler, but he had an eye for quality, prompting the shopkeeper to offer a generous deal.
"I'll take it." Gravel said without hesitation.
The shopkeeper was momentarily taken aback by the swift response. Twenty-eight gold coins was no small sum, even with the discount. True, the rod was made from the rare Wivre Nest, took an entire season to craft, and was the work of the continent's finest rod-maker—himself—but did this customer truly understand its hidden value? A flicker of doubt crossed the shopkeeper's mind.
This was the finest fishing rod, and as its seller, he felt compelled to ensure it was sold with no lingering questions.
'I should explain why it's priced so high.' he decided, beginning to pack the disassembled rod, reel, and hooks into a long leather bag as he spoke.
"Do you know how the Wivre Nest tree got its name?" the shopkeeper asked.
"No, I only heard about snake wood and green heart for the first time today." Gravel replied.
"And I bet this is your first time seeing a Deusi, too?" the shopkeeper said, flashing his sharp canines.
"Haha, yeah…" Gravel admitted.
"Go ahead and look all you want. A customer spending twenty-eight gold coins on a fishing rod can stare as much as they like—it's not like I'll wear out," the shopkeeper said with a grin.
Gravel watched as the shopkeeper carefully packed the items, taking in the Deusi's appearance without being rude. Unlike humans, the Deusi had small front teeth paired with large canines, and his body was covered in long, grayish fur. He resembled a wolf standing on two legs, but not like a wild wolf simply upright—his hands were developed like a human's, with fur-covered fingers and sharp claws capable of delicate movements.
Gravel noticed the shopkeeper's hands moving cautiously as he packed the items, continuing to talk all the while.
"In Kirvia, beyond the eastern wall, there are small wyverns called wivres. These creatures have a unique organ under their scales that secretes poison. The trees they use for their nests are called Wivre Nests—named exactly as you'd expect. The original name of the tree has been forgotten, and people just call it that now. No other tree can withstand the wivres' poison without withering, so they have no choice but to nest in these." the shopkeeper explained, his canines gleaming as he chuckled.
"Anyway, there are hunters who specialize in catching these wivres. They say the best time to catch them is when they're eating in their nests. When they take down a wivre, they also cut down the nest tree and bring it back. Before selling the wood to craftsmen like me, they have to remove the poison embedded in it, which takes about eighty days. They grind the seeds of the Anaran fruit, mix them with water to make a paste, wrap the wood in it, and bury it underground for eighty days to draw out the poison. Only then does it reach our hands."
The shopkeeper disassembled the rod and placed it in the leather bag as he spoke.
"That's a finicky material. I can see why it's so expensive." Gravel said.
"Haha! I'm grateful for a customer who understands. As a merchant and a craftsman, it means a lot. You'll see with time, but Wivre Nest is incredibly elastic, resistant to moisture, and doesn't crack in the dry winter air. In Kirvia, it's considered the finest wood for making bows." the shopkeeper said, tying the leather bag shut.
"Here's twenty-eight gold coins. I can't wait to try this rod out."
Gravel said, slinging the bag over one shoulder and handing over the coins with his other hand.
"Nothing like the feeling of getting your hands on fine gear, right? I get it," the shopkeeper said.
"Oh, wait! I forgot the Anaran oil. My apologies, please wait a moment."
The shopkeeper hurriedly dashed to the back of the wagon, returning quickly with a small, plain brown bottle. He handed it to Gravel, explaining that applying the oil every ten years or so would help preserve the rod and maintain its performance.
Afterward, the shopkeeper taught Gravel how to use the rod's elasticity to cast the line and float far out, as well as how to swap hooks and lines depending on the fish he was targeting. Only then did he bid farewell to Gravel and his new fishing rod.