To the west of the city of Damu, shared by the Dawi and Muwa, flows the Nauulaat River—the longest and largest in the region. It absorbs countless tributaries descending from the Norwan Mountains, piercing through the Sarn Forest as it courses toward the western edge of the continent.
This colossal waterway boasts an abundance of flow, fostering diverse ecosystems along its banks that play a vital role for the forest's inhabitants.
Among the various shops in Damu, 'Bouma's Fishing Gear' was nestled on a bustling street near the Nauulaat River. This thoroughfare stretched long along the river, paved with stones and lined with all manner of stores and stalls, perpetually buzzing with energy. The wind off the river carried a dampness that enveloped the street, while the air was filled with the clamor of vendors hawking fish and crayfish caught by anglers and fishers. Faded awnings fluttered here and there, and beside makeshift stalls of leather and wood, spots were set aside for travelers and fishermen to rest.
Tucked away on one side was the shop owned by the Dawi named Bouma. Its exterior was weathered yet sturdy, built of solid timber, with a signboard faded by the river winds depicting a large hook crossed with a harpoon. Above it, the name 'Bouma's Fishing Gear' was boldly engraved.
Pushing open the door revealed a welcoming interior, where sunlight streamed through the windows, keeping the wooden floors dry and tidy. Neatly arranged display racks dotted the space, creating a pleasant atmosphere. The walls were crammed with tools for catching all sorts of aquatic creatures, making it immediately clear that this was a specialist in fishing equipment.
On the walls hung an array of harpoons and spears, but the most eye-catching was a massive harpoon with a long handle tipped by a sharp, hook-like blade. Fit for whaling, this large harpoon featured a hefty iron handle that conveyed a sense of weight, its blade forged from layered steel with fine serrations etched in to make escape impossible for prey. Nearby were displayed smaller spears, with short handles affixed to steel blades, ideal for hand-throwing in shallow waters.
One wall was organized with various types of spears. The trident, with its three-pronged tip, was structured to increase the chances of piercing fish. Its long, balanced handle suited throwing but was even more effective for direct stabbing in shallow depths. Beside it were simpler bidents—two-pronged spears—easier to handle than tridents, designed for more precise strikes on fish. The handles were crafted from water-resistant teak wood, and some featured ornate carvings from bone, adding a unique flair.
In the center of the shop stood several wooden shelves, neatly stocked with assorted supplies. Small harpoons for hand-throwing had short handles with hooked blades for swift attacks, while underwater fish lamps combined oil lanterns with reflectors, emitting a soft glow to lure fish even in the dark.
Meanwhile, the gaff hook was an essential tool for hauling large fish aboard boats. The shop offered versions with long, sturdy wooden handles attached to sharp hooks, some enhanced with leather grips for added practicality.
On one wall hung underwater goggles fashioned from thinly shaved animal bones pierced with small holes, designed to secure visibility beneath the surface. Below the shelves were fish storage containers, crafted as wooden barrels or baskets to keep live catches. Some had heavy stones attached to submerge them, while others featured small vents to regulate water flow, ensuring the fish stayed fresh and alive longer.
Additionally, the shelves held fishing hooks made from wood or bone. In regions where iron was scarce, hooks were ground from bone or horn, and nowadays, it was believed that bone or wooden hooks caught fish better than iron ones—avoiding the metallic scent—so customers often sought them over metal alternatives.
Handline tools were also on display, a simple yet effective method of fishing with just line and hook, no rod required. Of course, fishing rods made from bamboo or various woods were arranged alongside, catering to those who preferred a more leisurely approach to dangling bait in the water.
One corner of the shop featured an assortment of nets: circular casting nets thrown by hand, gill nets that ensnared swimming fish, and seine nets pulled by boats or people from both ends. Fish traps or pots, structured so fish could enter but not exit, were also available, popular among those seeking long-term hauls.
Landing nets for scooping up small fish were hung in various sizes, perfect for those wanting straightforward operations.
Among those already inside the shop, two Dawi particularly stood out. One was smaller in stature compared to other Dawi, with thick, dark brown fur that gave a strong impression. He stood with arms crossed, scrutinizing the large harpoons on the wall one by one. Picking up the harpoon before him, he tested the balance of the handle and tapped the blade's strength with his fingers, his demeanor revealing careful deliberation.
He wore sturdy leather armor over his shoulders, and at his waist hung a dagger secured by a worn leather strap. His expression as he gazed at the harpoons was serious, as if pondering their intended uses deeply. The other was taller, with a muscular build, clad in a rough fur vest. He held a different type of spear, weighing it in his hands as he examined it.
The brown-furred Dawi was still eyeing the harpoons on the wall. His fingertips traced slowly along the handle, feeling its solid texture. The fine serrations etched into the forged steel blade glinted in the light. The shop interior was filled with tools of various woods, infusing the air with a medley of scents: the deep, heavy aroma of teak, the subtle fragrance of oak, and the distinctive smell from paurokso handles lingering in the atmosphere.
At that moment, another Dawi with dark fur approached him.
"Bazz, how far do you think you could throw a harpoon that big? Stick with something smaller."
The approaching Dawi spoke in a low voice to Bazz. He was larger in build, with deep scars around his eyes that lent a rugged air.
Bazz furrowed his brow and swung the harpoon in his hand, as if gauging its weight. Then, with firm resolve, he replied.
"I can throw one this size."
He then called out toward the shop owner, Bouma, who was organizing whetstones in the back.
"Bouma! How much for this?"
Bouma was pulling whetstones from a wooden crate and arranging them one by one on the shelf. He dusted off the fine stone powder from his hands and straightened up. The whetstones were smoothly polished gray stones, squared off neatly. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, Bouma glanced at the harpoon Bazz held.
"Ah... That one's a bit pricey... It'll cost you 8 gold coins."
Bazz's voice rose unwittingly, then he pursed his lips and grumbled.
"Expensive! Well... It does seem well-made enough for that. Daoba, what about yours? How much did you pay for the harpoon you use?"
"Haven't I shown it to you before?"
In response to Bazz's question, Daoba smiled quietly and untied the leather cloth slung over his back. The harpoon revealed from within was distinctly different from ordinary ones. Its dark reddish handle was made of solid teak wood, and the blade bore a faint blue sheen with intricate patterns engraved. Daoba gripped the harpoon, lifting it slightly to adjust the weight and balance. A subtle shift registered at his fingertips, and he nodded in satisfaction.
"This one cost me at least 10 gold coins. It's processed from drake bone, carved and refined."
Bazz flinched as he stared at Daoba's harpoon. His fingertips cautiously traced the sharp spear's blade, feeling its texture. It was lighter than expected, yet the intimidating presence of the keen edge was formidable.
"...So you need a harpoon like this to become a Trag. 8 gold coins... 8 gold coins... 8 gold coins and a Trag."
Trag. The honorable title bestowed upon the one who catches the largest salmon in the festival of the approaching giant salmon runs, the Dook-Dook Pioran-o—a mark of supreme acclaim and proven skill among fishers. Bazz seemed lost in thought for a moment, but soon gripped the harpoon again and looked back at Bouma.
Daoba shook his head slowly and said.
"It's too heavy for you, Bazz. Even if you can just barely throw it, it won't fly as far as you'd like. How about trying this bident instead? It's light and well-balanced."
He took a bident from the wall and balanced it on the back of his hand. The long, sleek shaft naturally settled into equilibrium at one end, its two sharp prongs reflecting light with a subtle gleam.
"It flies lightly, easy to hit leaping salmon, and plenty sufficient for big catfish too."
Daoba deftly spun the bident in his hand with a confident smile. Then, looking at Bazz, he added.
"So listen to this Daoba, bearer of the Trag title, Bazz."
"Is that so... Ah, anyway, Daoba, what brings you here today?"
Bazz set down the harpoon in his hand, crossed his arms, and regarded Daoba. He seemed to have set aside his deliberations on the new harpoon for now.
Daoba stroked his chin with one hand and chuckled lightly.
"Thought I'd catch some eulachon. The net at home is too big and cumbersome. Need something finer-meshed."
With that, he turned his head to survey the shop's interior, then called out loudly to the owner.
"Bouma! Got any fine-meshed nets in your shop?"
He shouted toward Bouma, who was still pulling various tools from the wooden box and organizing them.