After the divination had ended, the old Fishman priest picked up the dragon skin cloak that hung from his bone staff, shook off the lice and dust, and draped it back over 'Yagneg's head.
Meanwhile, a young Fishman in a gray short robe, holding a huge shell, stumbled out from behind and approached the group of young wizards. He held his head low, intimidated and silent.
The old Fishman glanced at him sideways and muttered under his breath, seemingly cursing.
Korma was the first to throw a silver dime into the shell.
The young Fishman struggled for a while and finally squeezed out a 'thank you.' His voice was very low, almost like a mosquito's mumble, and it carried the distinctive airy tone of a Fishman's accent.
The others suddenly realized that they were supposed to give a tip.
