The Market Charges a Commotion Fee

Fidelphi's death did not make the black market pause for grief. It made the black market calculate. As the party argued over the void dust, the body, and what had just happened, goblins moved in with claims. Market loot. Harvest rights. A commotion fee. New Goblin City did not treat death as sacred or even especially private. If someone died in the market, the market wanted to know who owned the mess. The party argued back. Morgan found the local language quickly and threatened a keep-your-legs-attached fee. The shakedown softened. What had started as a swarm of claims became a transaction, then a lead. The fee goblin sold them practical information: dragon peoples, meaning the Wingkin, were likely down a level past the stream near the Emrites. That turned nuisance into direction. Queen Meeg's fee culture stayed active as a problem, and goblin law made it clear that death, dust, and dropped gear could all become market property if the party let the rules settle around them. But the group bought something useful with the argument. The road to the Wingkin had a next landmark. Down a level. Past the stream. Near the Emrites.