"Human metal always carries a sickening stench."
The deep-green-scaled Sahuagin closed the wooden crate filled with iron chunks and nails.
The wooden lid thudded dully.
It turned to its companion beside it. "But the tide priest needs us to hand these things over. How did your search go, Slark?"
"Shriveled tubers and dead flesh."
The companion named Slark pulled his webbed claw from a burlap sack and licked the crumbs from it.
"Like starfish baked dry on the reef, without a trace of sweet blood."
"Followers of the great Sekolah should not be swallowing such garbage."
"Restrain your hunger, Slark."
The deep-green-scaled fishman replied calmly.
"The land creatures nearby are not so easy to deal with."
"These foolish land creatures look as though they're clad in hard iron shells, brandishing sharp swords, thinking they have everything under control."
Slark ground his teeth.
"They think a few swings of their weapons are enough to drive us away."
A low rumble rolled from the deep-green-scaled fishman's throat.
"Once we offer up the tribute and Sekolah's priest grants us divine power, we can go to the upstream bank and feast on those land creatures not wearing metal."
It paused.
"In the words of the land, this is called raising livestock."
The moment it finished speaking, Slark's gill covers fluttered slightly.
"The savory scent of blood."
On the damp sea breeze came the scent of blood and flesh that haunted its dreams.
Its murky yellow eyes turned toward the shadows at the edge of the dock.
"That land leader who loves to shout and make a fuss has arrived."
The deep-green-scaled fishman also raised its head.
Under the dim lights of the dock, several figures were approaching along the plank walkway.
"Looks like there are two more than before."
Slark licked his sharp teeth.