Puffed up merchant

Michael just sheepishly retrieves his hand and rubs the back of his head, "Alright... What is it?" he asks, looking at the rather flat, innocuous-looking fish presented to him.

The man grins, "This here is the Albion Puffer Fish, most poisonous thing in the world barring Basilisk venom, screwin' a succubus, and whatever shit those accursed elves like to conjure up." he says, wriggling his fingers as if mimicking casting elf magic.

This was good, but not perfect for Michael's needs. "That's great, but the poison needs to have a delayed effect. Wouldn't do too much if an orc drops dead before the others even eat it."

The man nods, "That's the best part, this poison takes a couple hours to work! Use enough of 'em and even an entire village of orcs is gone!"

...

Michael lets out a sigh, "Alright... How much, and how many do you think I'd need for a large village of orcs?"

The man grins, "Well, usually I wouldn't have enough, but today you're in luck! I'll prepare fifteen of these for ya', for twenty gold! Cheap as can be!"

"Twenty gold!?" Michael mentally screams, somehow managing to keep his reaction off of his face. If he bought this he'd only have around five gold left! Enough to live on for a while to be sure, but it'd leave him desperately strapped for cash!

...

"Say, I doubt these things are all that popular to actually buy... I mean, you can't eat them, they probably don't make get pets, and the poison is probably restricted from being sold out of this market, right? So how about you give me a small discount for buying in bulk? Say, half-price?"

The man scoffs, "Haha! That's a good one! Half price! Boy, what a laugh!" he over-dramatically laughs, being stopping on a dime as his expression goes frosty, "Twenty gold, kid. I know other folks willing to buy this stuff for more than what I'm letting you have it."

Michael shakes his head, "Twelve gold. I doubt fifteen inedible fish are as popular as you're making out."

The man crosses his arms, "Seventeen, you'd be surprised. And some do actually eat these things, a delicacy among risk-takers I hear."

Michael's eyes squint, "Fifteen, one gold per fish, that's as high as I'm willing to go." he states, hand twitching towards his sword as he decides to rob the guy if he goes any higher... The only problem with that is actually preparing the fish without help... He doubted that the whole fish was required to poison things, and dumping all fifteen into the barrack's reservoir would be more than a little conspicuous.

The man notices Michael's twitching hand and just nods, "Alright, you gotta deal. Now, just gimme a moment to prepare the fish." he says, pulling a cleaver from who knows where and expertly butchering it. Taking it to pieces until he finally pulls out an organ, what the man says is its liver.

"Just hide the livers inside some other food and that'll deal with your 'orc' problem." the man chuckles, "Boy, do I feel bad for whoever's annoyed you enough to use fifteen of these things."

Michael crooks a brow, "What do you mean?" he asks, acting nonchalant.

The man waves him off, "Don't think it ain't obvious what you're doin', orcs ain't bothered any village near the capital for years, even with this war going, I doubt those pigs'll try their luck. Naw, you're going to use this stuff on some sorry bastard... Tell me, what did he do to deserve all this." he asks, leaning forwards as if he were a gossiping school girl.

Michael shrugs and quietly answers, "Let's just say that some things can't be forgiven, even if they do heal."

With that, Michael leaves the black market with a wet, bloody sack of livers in hand.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elsewhere, Julien walks towards the corner of the room where he was supposed to be meeting any remaining loyalists. Ralf Kaliker had apparently been busy even before he met Julien, directing any loyalists he finds to the black market so they could regroup and plan out their rescue of the prince.

He was dismayed to find however that only around fifteen loyalists remained, only two of which actually belonged to his original group. He lets out a solemn sigh and prays to Brimir that they were still alive and well, either they were too well hidden from Ralf to find them, or they'd been captured... His only hope was that their execution would wait til after Prince Wales'.

He greets the men as he approaches, "Julien, at your service my friends." he pauses and points at a man with a pencil-thin moustache and small physique, "I know you, Viscount William Wallington?" he questions.

The man nods and gives a slight bow, "Indeed, but I am afraid I expected more than just us. Cromwell has planned well for our interference it seems." he mutters while twirling his moustache in thought, "I still can not believe that Prince Wales protectors had betrayed him as such, their oaths meant more than just petty words." he remarks venomously.

Julien shakes his head, "It is Cromwell's magic ring that coerced them, it allows him to control the minds of any who he uses it on. Maybe we can rescue the controlled and release them from his thrall?"

"Mind control, you say?" Willian rubs his face, "That is a problem. Even simple love potions require incredibly rare materials to dispel, let alone complete domination. No, we must ignore their plight for now and attempt to free our brothers from their imprisonment, at least they would be able to fight with us, instead of against us."

Julien nods, "The prison, it must be where they are held. They are too numerous to be put anywhere else."

William harrumphs in accent, "True enough, but Cromwell will know of this. We will likely fail should we try."

Julien frowns, "But we will attempt it even so."

Willian smiles at him and the others listening, "Do we have any other choice? A suicidal plan still trumps no plan at all. Now, have any of you scouted the prison's perimeter, perhaps using the sewers to gain access-"