Everyone else would much rather have space magic meat than boring old goat meat though!!!

Does anyone in this big crowd want to buy some goats or is he just screwed over now? The butcher demands, waving his cleaver around. (The guards start moving in towards him.)

Tarwë will buy some goats. Would the butcher like anything from the shop?

-Oh, alright. That works out just fine then. A bunch of spices and cloth and a few notmagic lights will definitely buy Tarwë these four goats. He's sorry for getting so worked up, sirs, it's just that goats are expensive.

That's very understandable!

(Nelen whisks the goats into orbit to be ferried to some exotic-goat-breed hobby farm.)

(These particular goats seem to be slightly more clever than most goat breeds but are perfectly docile and happy to be led wherever as long as there's grass.)

The feast and shopping spree continues without incident. The King reads the code of laws and wants to wait to install a bus station and maybe do it well outside the city.

-In the late afternoon loud horns sound, a single dull alarm note starting from one lookout and spreading around the city and countryside. This rather causes a panic. People abandon their food and rush off, or stand there looking worried. The guards all run out of the square.

"- what does that alarm mean?" Cassiel asks a stand-there-looking-worried person.

"-I don't know. Something bad. Could be horse bandits or a dragon or a spirit or anything really. We're - we're probably safe behind the walls."

"If I go out and have a look and maybe try to talk to them if they're a talking kind of problem, will I be getting very badly in the way?" Cassiel asks.

He laughs, startled. "I doubt it. The guard is just going to try to protect people, I think you'll only help."

Cassiel takes off and gets altitude to see what's going on.

There's a big fire in that field over there! It's spreading pretty quickly! People are forming a bucket chain with the river nearby to try and fight it.

There's a long, slender orange-skinned winged form slinking along the ground behind a line of hills. Not visible from ground level, but clear from above if one is looking for trouble in places other than the big obvious fire. It seems to be approaching a nearby clay pit, hastily abandoned due to the alarm.

Cassiel precipitates some water out of the air, circling the fire, and turns a moat of surrounding plants into a firebreak, and when it looks calmed down enough that the fire brigade can soak or stomp remaining smolder, she approaches the dragon.

It sees her flying nearby and abandons its curious investigation of the pulley elevator the clay pit is using, looks - confused, the giant feathers on its head (recognizable from that Commander's coat, he was wearing similar ones) tilting up and down - then turns and runs away, trotting along the ground in a slightly awkward run.

"Excuse me," calls Cassiel, "hello?"

The dragon stumbles slightly.

"I'm leaving I don't want to fight FLYING humans!!!"

It runs faster.

...well crap.

Nelen looks at his tablet when it beeps and looks around for the king.

The King is over there, drunk but trying to put on a very serious face as he listens to some guards about how Cassiel helped put out the fire.

"Your Wisdom," says Nelen, "may I have a word? Ideally in private."

"Hmm? Right, of course, honored guest and all. Thank you for the assistance. If you are concerned I uh, must speak with you. Do you have some place more convenient than going back to the palace?"

"If you'd like to see our ship I can do that," says Nelen.

He opens his mouth to agree, then pauses. "-I do want to but I don't think it would be quite appropriate for me to leave my city without, you know, preparations and things. There is an order to these things. Come, palacewards. Unless the store is alright."

"The store is fine too."

In the store's back room: "Your wisdom, you seem like you've had a fair amount to drink; may I clear your head?"

He has a guard wait just outside the private room.

"Yes, I rather have. It is a feast. But yes, thank you." He holds out a hand.

Boop.

"Your wisdom," says Nelen once the alcohol's out of his system, "are you aware that dragons can speak?"

He blinks, grimacing at the sudden transition to sobriety.

"...That's preposterous. Dragons do not speak. They roar and spit fire and eat livestock and man alike."