Eric, Rose and their steeds materialised outside the Beast Be Gone shop in Porkhaven, their feet landing on the cobbles. The gloomy sky overcast the rows of shacks that barely constituted a street. People hurried past, shopkeeps, traders, bankers alike all going about their mundane lives with a vacant stare. With each of their outfits being so similar, Eric wondered if they all visited the same tailors. Interspersed between the city folk were heavily armoured adventurers, relentlessly demanding quests, knocking back Elixirs and challenging each other to duels.
In spite of the adventurers, it was good to be home.
Eric led Daisy to the tiny stable beside the shop, then tied her up and fed her some kind of knobbly vegetable heâd found deep in his Sack of Clutching. Rose appeared beside him, her face beaming. âThis has all been quite informative so far.â
Her chuffer had followed her inside, taking up the rest of the space. Its many legs collapsed down, settling itself into the hay. It let out a long wheeze of steam and went quiet.
Eric patted Daisy on the nose. âGlad to hear it.â
There was a crash.
Eric and Rose exchanged looks, then hurried outside. Eric felt his stomach lurch. Adrenaline kicked through him.
Six burly dwarves were leaving his shop, carrying out a large chest of drawers through the smashed down door. Broken glass sparkled on the ground. The dwarves all wore black tunics emblazoned with unusual pink skulls. They glanced up at Eric and Rose, then continued to steal the furniture.
âHey!â Eric exclaimed, running over to them. He pulled at the chest of drawers, but the dwarves didnât even flinch, they simply grinned.
âThere you are, Mr Featherwick,â boomed a voice over the sound of the crunching glass. It came from a man in the shop doorway, who had a jaw to compliment his caveman-like brow. The pink skull on his robes was larger and had more detail, implying that he was in charge. âYou owe The Doom Bank a lot of money.â
Anger pulsed through his veins, a fire of hatred burned in his belly. âGet off my property!â he shouted.
âNow, now Mr Featherwick,â said the man. âWe donât want to have to call the city guards,â
Eric shook with hatred, poised to punch the man in the face. Something gentle caught his arm. He looked round to see Rose. She smiled at him.
âCome on, Eric,â she said. âItâs alright.â
The rage washed away, leaving behind only shame. He hung his head. âI⦠just need more time,â Eric pleaded. âPlease.â
âYouâve had plenty of time,â said the bailiff.
Eric removed the money pouch from his belt and begrudgingly held it towards the man. âThis is all I have.â
The bailiff snatched the bag and stuck his nose in it, inspecting its contents. âIf you donât pay us the rest by the end of the month, this shop is ours.â
Eric grumbled and nodded.
âYou should join The Guild. Free access if you have an account with us.â The man thrust a parchment into Ericâs hands, smiled with satisfaction, turned and strolled away.
Eric looked down at the paper in his hands.
The Guild
Career Advice and Services - Your Adventure Starts TODAY
âWhy farm animals when you could farm Experience?â
Proudly Brought To You By The Doom Bank
He was going to lose everything and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wanted to scream and throw rocks at their big fat heads, but held himself back. Something about Rose calmed him down, but he couldnât quite put his finger on it. He scrunched up the paper and tossed it onto the floor.
âWho were they?â asked Rose.
âBailiffs.â Through the window he watched the group leave on their pink cart with their newly claimed furnishings. Eric froze. Had they takenâ¦? He ran over to the fireplace and breathed a sigh. His crossbow was still sitting where it always had been, right above the mantelpiece. âThank The Mole,â he mumbled as he caressed the wood.
Rose raised an eyebrow. âProbably not worth their time, looks pretty rusty.â
Eric frowned. âItâs a⦠family heirloom.â
âQuite an interesting heirloom.â Rose turned around and looked at the shattered doorway. âRight then, where do you keep your brooms?â
They spent the rest of the morning clearing up the remains of the shop door. The sun beat down on their backs, while city folk wandered by, being careful to avoid eye contact. Life in Porkhaven bred a basic survival instinct of staying out of other peopleâs business, especially when violence and broken glass was involved.
A few addicts stumbled by, their skin green, soft and withered. The Alchemy District was full of these fools. At least once a week Eric had to clean up some purple or green bile outside the shop. Although living there did have its perks, namely a cheaper mortgage and an unlimited supply of empty bottles.
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âStop that,â Eric snapped as he inspected the wonky frame.
Roseâs mechanical arm poked from her backpack, holding the dustpan while she swept up into it. âStop what?â
âYou know what. That humming. Stop it.â
âWas I humming?â
âYou were definitely humming.â
Rose paused and leant on her broom, her metal appendage whirred and retreated into her back. âYouâre a real grump, you know that?â
Eric grunted and ignored her, going back to hammering the door frame. It wasnât ever going to be straight again, but he couldnât exactly afford to buy a new one.
âWhy didnât you take that new job from Lord Egglewort?â she continued, âSeems like you need the money.â
Eric stopped hammering. âI donât do dragons.â
Rose took a step closer, leaning in conspiratorially. âWhy not?â
Eric shuddered. He could still hear his fatherâs screams some nights. Feel the burning on his skin. âI donât want to talk about it. Theyâre a damn cliche is what they are. The adventurers can have the stinking dragons for all I care.â
âWell youâve got to find work somehow,â said Rose resolutely. âIf Iâm going to be your apprentice Iâll need to have some experience out in the field.â
Eric glared at Rose. âWhy did you want to work with me so much anyway?â
âAfter what you did for my father. How you stopped that dire-beetle with only a net...â Rose stopped herself. âWhy gee, it was so heroic. Iâve grown up with that story. Itâs what made me want to be a pest controller.â
âThings had been so much simpler back then,â said Eric, fondly. âThat was a time when being a pest controller meant something. The King himself hired me for that job, and more too. Once I spent weeks fumigating his palace against a nest of lesser-hydras. Now I bet he canât even remember my name.â
âMy father remembers,â said Rose.
âI was just doing my job.â Ericâs face decided to blush.
He still couldnât wrap his head around her. She seemed old and yet so young, all at the same time. Maybe it was something to do with her white blouse and tidy hair.
âHow old are you anyway?â he said.
Rose stood up straighter, puffing out her chest. âIâm fifteen and three quarters.â
âAnd in those fifteen long years, have you had any other experience with wild creatures?â
âMy father owns a lot of plantations in the Western Lands. Iâve seen my fair share of bogglet invasions and goblin pillaging. But our land seems much less forgiving than here, so itâs only now that weâve been hit by the same adventurer craze.â
Eric spat on the ground. âDamned adventurers.â
âWhere did they all come from?â
Eric shook his head with sorrow. âThere have always been heroes. But I guess people realised how much treasure was sitting around unattended. I even heard they were all inspired by some knight who butchered an Elder Dragon. Then once word traveled, everyone wanted a piece of the glory and they all got addicted to drinking Elixirs and absorbing Experience. Theyâre obsessed with endlessly getting stronger and stronger, until eventually they die and there's no one left to resurrect them. They only use their power to make themselves more powerful, it's totally pointless.â
The thought of Experience made Eric shudder. For some twisted reason, the universe decided that killing something meant you deserved a tiny piece of its life force. You would have to kill thousands of people or creatures to make it worth the while, of course, but thatâs exactly what adventurers planned on doing. The believers would say it was all part of The Holy Moleâs plan to turn the world into a molehill.
A familiar voice, silken and sickly, suddenly trickled from behind. âMy guess is they wanted to have as much fun as we do.â
Eric grimaced. He knew that voice all too well. âHello Freddy,â he said, turning around.
Freddy Glorp posed in the street with his legs wide, violet cloak flapping in the breeze. âGood to see you old boy. I was just passing through and thought Iâd come and check how my little buddy Eric was doing.â Freddy glanced at the limp door hanging from the hinges. âHad a bit of an accident have we?â
âNothing to worry about. Only a break-in.â
âWhat hooligans.â Freddy smiled in such a way that made Eric want to punch him right in his chiselled jaw. âTake anything of⦠value?â
âNothing much.â
âGlad to hear it. Howâs business?â Freddy swept back his handsome golden hair as if to mock Ericâs receding hairline. âI heard you recently helped Lord Egglewort with a little kobold problem?â
âThatâs right.â
Freddy absentmindedly neatened his sleeves. âWe were too busy for that job ourselves. The reward simply wasnât worth our time you see. We had to turn him down.â
âIs that so.â How had Freddy managed to get so many jobs? His wealthy father was probably still propping him up. It had to be.
âIf you are struggling Eric, do let us know.â The words seemed to slither out of Freddyâs mouth. It made the last of Ericâs hair stand on end. âWeâd make a good offer for your shop. You know. For a friend. I think it would convert wonderfully into a stable.â
âIâm doing just fine.â
Freddyâs expression twisted into a mocking grin as he looked back at the door. âOf course you are. Have any other jobs lined up?â
Eric crossed his arms. âNone of your business.â
Freddy laughed and patted Eric on the back. Eric flinched at his touch. âI understand Eric, I understand.â
Eric felt his face flush. âWe do have one job. If you must know.â
Freddy raised his eyebrows. âOh? And what job is that?â
âA big one.â
âOh yes? How big? A few large bats in an attic? A couple of gremlins stolen a farmerâs family daughter...?â
Eric ground his teeth. âMuch bigger than that.â
âIâm sure it is...â
âItâs a dragon.â Eric blurted out before he could stop himself.
Freddy froze, mouth slightly agape. âA dragon you say? My, my, my Eric, I didnât think you had it in you. Especially after, you know. The incident.â
Eric remained silent, fists clenched. He caught Roseâs eye and breathed out.
Freddy turned his gaze onto Rose. âAnd whoâs this little one? Not another apprentice?â
âHowdy, Iâm Rose,â said Rose, setting down her broom and extending a hand.
âAh, a Westerner, how darling. Charmed to meet you.â Freddy took her hand with both of his, enveloping them. âIf you fancy some real experience, youâre more than welcome at Glorp & Co.â
âOh. Thank you,â said Rose, pulling her hand away from Freddyâs grip. âBut Iâm doing just fine here.â
Freddy appeared perplexed by the rejection but quickly regained his composure. âWell, I must dash. Good to see you, Eric. And Rose, I hope to see you again very soon.â He winked at her and strolled away, whistling.
âWho was that latrine-for-brains?â said Rose after Freddy had disappeared down the street.
âFreddy Glorp. His father owns Glorp & Co.â
âYour rivals?â
âYou could say that.â
Rose picked her broom back up. âDefinitely glad I took my apprenticeship here. He seems like a bit of a prat. Why doesnât he like you? What did you do to him?â
Eric sighed. âWe apprenticed together. Things got ugly.â
âOh. What happened?â
âIt was a long time ago. I donât want to talk about it.â
âYou donât want to talk about anything.â
âTalkingâs overrated.â
Rose turned to him with a look on her face that suggested sheâd uncovered some kind of juicy gossip. âWell, you talked to Freddy. And you lied about having a job.â
âWe do have a job. From Lord Egglewort.â
âI thought you said you didnât want to do it? Something about not liking dragons?â
âI donât remember saying that. I said I would think about it. And well... Iâve thought about it.â
âAnd?â
âAnd maybe we could give it a go. Itâd be good learning for you. And itâll help pay for this door.â Not to mention the crippling debt, he thought to himself. Heâd even get to shove it in Freddyâs smug face.
Rose smiled and carried on sweeping. Soon she began to hum tunelessly again, but Eric didnât stop her.