There once was a little salamander - now, stop me if you’ve heard this one. They grew up among the mangroves and waterways of the Saffron Spore Islands, and were known by many names. “Hey kid” or “The little red one” were always Leroux’s favorites, as was any name that conveniently got them out of doing chores if they suddenly didn’t respond to it. Changing who you are comes as second nature to most of the dockfolk in the Saffrons - Leroux discovered that words, and their meaning, could change as well. Twisting meanings got the little salamander most things that they wanted… and a whole mess of trouble on the side. Eventually, those who Leroux had outwitted came back, and the adults of the docks besides. Accused of shirking their responsibilities and pushing work off onto others, Leroux found out the consequences of twisting words too far.
Lesson well learned, the salamander grew into their own as a dock guide, entertainer, and someone who was known to know things. Knowing just the right words could open minds, draw in ears, and win over the most stubborn negotiator. More and more, Leroux found themselves called upon to broker deals and to smooth over disagreements. Far from being astonished, Leroux took to these waters with natural charm and panache, effortlessly making friends wherever they went, and blunting or disarming those who sought to sully their reputation. Having honed their words to a razor edge, Leroux began to weave their own influences into their work. At first it was for fun, the salamander playing the same games they had in their youth. However, they were soon to learn a second important lesson.
Meandering their way from cafe to meeting hall one muggy evening, Leroux was full of all the buoyant enthusiasm that a successful bout of negotiation could bring, and themselves having gained new influence and a bag of seeds in the bargain. Striding down the docks and awash with ideas on what the seeds could be traded for, they came upon a family of fisher-rats hauling in a meager catch. Leroux could see at a glance the family’s glum fortunes at what was clearly another day’s poor haul, and suddenly the faces and voices of youth returned, asking him what Leroux would do for the dockfolk. This time the salamander had the answer, and they walked away with an empty pouch, a fillet of perch, and a sudden, driving goal.
These days, the creatures of the Saffron Spores have much and more to thank the rougish salamander for, as Leroux’s deals inevitably bring more to the mangroves and marshes than get traded away. It’s thanks to them, in a way few realize, that the docks have expanded over the past few years, and pottery transported westward out of the Sun Dried Sands has become of such interest. Those who suspect get little more than a wink and grin from Leroux; after all and as well they know, the truth of a thing is in the telling.
