"Paint me beige and call me human," Knob whispered, scratching his bony green knuckles. "They just walked right up to a punch in the face."

  "They got heart, I give you that," Sniffs said, scratching his beard.

  "Looks like they cause a lot of trouble. Do we still want to do this?" Gutters asked, blinking eyes that were a little too big.

  The three were huddled in a pile of trash, blending seamlessly into the environment. They all looked odd. Off. They stood out, so they didn't stand. They just watched from their hiding place as the broken team picked themselves off the ground and hobbled back toward a safer part of town.

  "You really think he's one of us?"

  "The boy with the brown hair. For sure. He smells of grease far more than the other two. I'd bet a full copper he built that thing we saw in the warehouse. The blond one smells of the forest, but no grease." Sniffs said. "The dwarf... well, she's a dwarf. Smells as she looks."

  "Weird that he's their leader, though. How does he hide it?"

  "Beats me, maybe he could teach us a thing or two, eh?"

  The trash pile waited for the alley to be completely silent, then slowly slid around the corner as the group went in search for some food.

  Zig winced and massaged his ribs as Jints took him through bunch of winding streets and alleys.

  "How do you know this place?"

  "I came here yesterday, mister Zig."

  Zig had wondered what the man had been doing, while he was getting his butt kicked by some goons.

  "Is this helping us to get Beefcake?"

  "Absolutely, sir. No path to success is shorter than having more money, I find. Here we are."

  Zig was standing outside a greenhouse. Cloudy glass panels lined this building, and he could see blurry shapes of pot plants lining the inside walls.

  "Plants?"

  "Plants, mister Zig. I have already made the arrangements, we just need to go in and do a little harvesting."

  "Oh? Oh!"

  Zig's eyes brightened as finally they encountered some good news. The botanist inside welcomed them with a smile and showed Zig which plants were ready to be harvested. They all looked strange to Zig, but he reached out to pluck a cactus from its pot. He pulled, and his eyes went funny, making him blink. Somehow much more cactus came out of the pot than would fit back into the pot. The excitement was cut short, however, by the blood running down Zig's palms.

  "Ah! Sir!"

  "You didn't think to tell me this plant drew blood?"

  "I'm so sorry, sir! I assumed you had some skill, since you didn't put on the gloves..."

  The botanist gestured helplessly at a pair of gloves lying very prominently on the bench. Zig hadn't noticed them.

  Jints sighed.

  "Any chance we can add some minor healing to the bill?"

  The botanist was frowning at Zig's hand, but did a double-take when he saw the amount of cactus Zig had pulled out.

  "Cut me down and call me a tree stump," he breathed. "Can you do that every time?"

  "Not with a bleeding hand," Zig said irritably. The wounds weren't closing as fast as they should. The botanist quickly fetched a couple of herbs, mashed them together, and put the poultice on Zigs wounds. The bleeding stopped instantly.

  "Sorry again sir, I didn't realize you were new to this." His eyes drifted to the harvested pile of cactus on the bench.

  "Please, this poultice is on the house. Let me wrap a bandage on too, and then we could continue...?"

  Treated, bandaged, and heavily gloved, Zig began to pull all sorts of plants from pots, to the botanist's growing excitement. Each time he did so, Jints looked and memorized the exact number of stems of each plant, or the exact weight, if that's how the botanist measured it. After an hour, the entire shop barely had anything still growing in pots. Tables were filled with piles of plant matter. The botanist handed Jints a bulging coin pouch, thanking the two of them profusely and inviting them to visit in a month's time.

  They walked out of the shop with 12 gold pieces. Zig was feeling much, much better.

  "Mister Jints, that was incredible. We just made so much money!"

  "We made a tidy sum, but the real winner is that botanist." Jints corrected. "I will see about creating a small farm of our own, but it takes time to grow plants from scratch. I've looked into buying potted plants ready for harvest, but the price is somewhat high since farmers know this trick, and price things accordingly. We'd still make a profit but it wouldn't be earth-shattering."

  Jints was acting as if 12 gold was a pittance, but Zig was over the moon.

  "How much does Lady Jane need for the academy? 50? We could do that today!"

  "50 to enter, and then hundreds to learn any spells, mister Zig. And I've found four more spots like this in the city. After that, we'll only have the surrounding farms, which grow much cheaper foodstuffs."

  It wasn't enough, but it was a solid start. Zig and Jints went across the town, offering harvesting services to herbalists and botanists who dealt with expensive herbs and plants. They wouldn't be able to repeat the process for weeks, but they ended up with several money pouches, all adding up to 53 gold. Zig felt like a dragon acquiring his first horde of treasure. He had the strangest desire to dump all the coins into a pile in his room and try sleeping on it.

  "Hey, are there dragons in this world?"

  "There are tales, mister Zig. May we never see one. Imagine Teeth, but ten times the size, winged and breathing fire."

  Jints looked sideways at Zig.

  "They say any man lucky enough to defeat one gets instantly brought up to Legendary. Same goes for titans, giant creatures of the mountains. They stand taller than dragons and throw lightning bolts."

  Zig the legendary seventeen year old suddenly felt a bit smaller. He might not be the biggest fish in this pond after all.

  "On a scale of human boy to dragon, where does a troll sit?"

  "Somewhere in the middle, mister Zig, somewhere in the middle."

  Hepp wandered the city. He wasn't in a good mood. He was a bowman. A ranger, of sorts. He was unbelievably powerful, with his Extreme class. The problem was...

  He was weak. He could shoot arrows, but without his bow he wouldn't feel confident taking any average man at a fight. He got hit by a troll once, just a single time, and nearly died. In the city, where bows weren't very useful, Hepp was useless. He felt at a bruise on his cheekbone.

  Hepp was at the marketplace, wondering if there was anything that could help him be a better fighter. He looked around at stalls, with various weapon displays. He loved his bow. Could he learn a second thing? He felt at the empty sheath at his belt. The thugs had taken his knife, along with Gretta's hammer. Hepp kicked a rock. Then he watched it tumble away. Could he start fighting with rocks, like Zig? At Extreme, it might do enough damage. Hepp imagined a whole gang of rock-based fighters. Even in his head, it looked stupid. Hepp sighed.

  Then he heard noises. The classic clang of weapons hitting shields. Hepp looked up.

  Over in a courtyard adjacent to the market was a bunch of people training with weapons. Some were paired off and fighting each other, most were attacking wooden training dummies in various ways. Hepp wandered over to watch. He looked at two men fighting with staves. Just wooden poles. That was a cheap way to always have a weapon handy, Hepp thought. You just need a stick. The poles were fairly big, though, and Hepp didn't like the idea of carrying a staff around alongside his bow. He looked at another person who had metal claws poking out of gloves. Very cool. But did he always wear those gloves? Hepp imagined a fight breaking out in a tavern, and Hepp hastily trying to stuff his hands into gloves so he could join the fray. Not the most practical.

  "Interested in trying something out?"

  Hepp jumped at the sound. There was an older woman next to him, wearing an apron and holding a water jug. She looked like a bartender, but moved like a warrior.

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  "Name's Lucy. Welcome to the fight club! This here is a practice yard we've set up for the weapons merchants. One silver entrance fee, and you can try any weapon you fancy."

  Lucy tilted her head toward a few open chests against a wall, filled with various weapons.

  "If you like something, you can buy it. If you try walk off with something, well, there are a lot of armed people around here."

  "Ho Lucy, my name's Hepp. I'd love to try, but one silver is all I've got..."

  Hepp meant to say that it was all he had, and that he couldn't spend it all just playing with different weapons. Lucy didn't let him finish, she just put a hand behind his back.

  "Perfect! Now mister Hepp, what weapons have you always wanted to try?"

  "Well, uh, I use a bow, and that's about it really."

  "Oh, a sharpshooter eh? Looking for a change, or something to compliment the bow?"

  "Something close-quarters I suppose."

  "Of course, of course."

  Lucy led Hepp over to the weapons and started laying an assortment of weapons onto a table. All kinds of knives and maces and knuckle dusters and even a set of those clawed gloves Hepp saw from earlier. Lucy hesitated, then put the gloves back in the chest, shaking her head.

  "What skills do you have then?"

  "Um, isn't that personal?"

  Lucy laughed.

  "I'm not going to sell your secrets, boy! What have you got?"

  "...Split arrow, focused shot, bow proficiency."

  Lucy whistled.

  "Now that's a combo. Shame about the split arrow. Are you sure that's the exact wording?"

  "Huh? Yea, why?"

  "Well if it was split projectile or split shot it might spread to other things. I'm asking, mister Hepp, because it's always good to find a new weapon that you can use existing skills on."

  The light went on in Hepp's brain.

  "Oh! You mean I could use my bow skills on something else?"

  Lucy shrugged.

  "Sure, maybe. Bow proficiency, probably not. Try these."

  Lucy handed Hepp a dagger, a throwing star, a small axe, an arrow, and a rock. At her insistence, Hepp started throwing each weapon at a wooden dummy. It was about as effective as Hepp thought it might be.

  "I already have my bow, shouldn't I get something melee focused?"

  "We're just seeing your skills boy, have you tried Focused Shot? Split Arrow? Do they work on any of them?"

  Hepp hadn't been trying to use skills, he was just experimenting with what each weapon felt like. He gathered the weapons and tried again. This time, every projectile hit the target dummy dead center in their forehead. Lucy smiled.

  "Lucky you! Seems like it works for anything. How about Split Arrow?"

  Hepp had already been trying to do both skills at once. He shook his head, but he still had one final "weapon" to try. It was the arrow. He didn't have a bow, so he just threw the arrow, after a pause to focus himself. The arrow split into five projectiles, which peppered the dummy's face. The effect was slightly ruined in that only two arrows stayed in the wood. The throw was so light that the other three failed to find purchase and fell to the ground. Lucy gave a long whistle at that.

  "You weren't kidding about the Split Arrow. I don't think I've seen five come from a skill before, in all my days working here. Well, we'll have to work with that, wont we?"

  The barmaid-weapons expert started digging thoroughly through the chests, searching for something.

  "Aha!"

  She pulled out a very thin stiletto dagger.

  "Sort of like an arrow, right? Try this."

  Hepp took the slender hilt of the dagger, focused, and threw it at the dummy. It was dead accurate, but didn't split into five daggers.

  "Hmm."

  Lucy tapped her chin, then went into a nearby building and came out with some glue and feathers. She taped feathers to the end of the hilt of the dagger.

  "How about now? That arrowy enough for you?"

  Hepp tried it, and again it hit the target as a single dagger.

  "I don't think this is—"

  "Shush, we're working here. Don't give up too early."

  Lucy broke the arrow head off the real arrow, and glued it to the tip of the dagger. Hepp eyed it uncertainly.

  "This is like something Zig would make."

  The dagger was now acting at as the shaft of an arrow, with arrow tip at the top and a mess of hastily glued feathers as the fletching at the bottom. It did... it did look like an arrow. Hepp held it up, hoping the head wouldn't fall off, and threw. To his disbelief, it split into five arrow-dagger-things and all five thudded into the wooden dummy. With the added weight of the dagger, the projectiles had no problem digging deep into the wood this time. Each one was kinda dangerous. Kinda. Half the daggers broke off their arrowheads on impact, along with a number of feathers. Lucy punched the air in triumph.

  "Alright! We're getting somewhere. I think we've found you a weapon, mister Hepp."

  Lucy walked off to serve other customers, and Hepp plucked the arrow-dagger-glue mess off the dummy. It wasn't great, but Lucy was right. Hepp had found a path forward. He grinned.

  Gretta wandered the city. She was bruised. She felt a little smug at how much trouble she'd caused the gang members. But still. She missed her shield. It was one thing to take a punch to the ribs and make the other guy feel it twice as strong reflected back to him. It was another thing entirely to hold up a shield and barely feel a thing as the other guy goes flying. Without a shield, she was barely Gretta. Just another dwarf, wandering the streets of Liston.

  Gretta wasn't thinking much about where she was going, until she could already hear the sound of hammers ringing on anvils. She'd subconsciously been following her Prospecting skill, which in a big city would lead to the most amount of metals. The smithing district. She came to a street that had a number of blacksmith shops. Dirty black smoke rose from chimneys. Carts with wood, coal, and ores were filling the street, all in different stages of unloading. It was a busy place.

  Gretta picked her way through, watching the smiths do their work. It was familiar. It reminded her of home. That was... bittersweet. The comforting sounds mixed with memories of losing everyone she'd ever loved. It reminded her of the bruises covering Hepp and Zig, because she'd failed to protect them. That's not who she wanted to be. Gretta stopped outside one of the forges.

  She needed a shield.

  "Ho, miss Smith!"

  A sweaty woman put down her hammer, took some wax out of her ears and turned to Gretta.

  "Ho there. You looking for some work done?"

  She looked again at the dwarf in front of her, taking in the goatee and short stature.

  "Or are you looking for work? We could do with someone like you."

  Gretta huffed. Racist humans.

  "I was wondering if I could borrow your shop for a bit? My name's Gretta. I stopped smithing years ago, but recently shifted class to Advanced."

  "Oh? Congratulations! I'd kill me own ma to get to Advanced. I'm Lanie by the way. How'd you do it?"

  "I, uh, burned down a forest with a few hundred men inside."

  There was a lengthy pause.

  "Ah. Um. Yea you can use the shop. Miss Gretta. For free of course."

  Lanie slowly took off her apron and set her hammer down. She stepped back until she hit the wall of the shop. Gretta sighed.

  "It wasn't like that. We were defending our town from an army. I helped, but my friend did most of the work. He shifted to Extreme."

  "Did you say Extreme? Polish my edges and call me a diamond. I need to find me a forest full of soldiers."

  Gretta tried not to wipe her brow in relief as Lanie warmed back up to her. For a second she wondered if the poor blacksmith was about to run for the guards. She quickly donned the leather apron before Lanie could change her mind. There was some iron heating in the forge. Lanie didn't notice Gretta working as she kept chatting away about what mass-murders she might be able to rig up to level up her smithing skills. Zig was right, Gretta thought, this world does encourage bloodthirsty murderers. She picked up some tongs and pulled the iron out of the fire, onto the anvil. She picked up a hammer. Not to destroy, this time, but to create.

  Gretta's hammer rang cleanly through the shop. Lanie had given up on conversation at this point—it was a little too difficult when the hammer was going down. Instead she picked up some more rough iron and threw it in the forge, pumping the bellows to stoke the fire. Something about Gretta's movement in the forge reminded her of her master. It brought Lanie instantly back to her days as an apprentice, and she unconsciously started doing apprentice things. She kept the fire hot, the shop clean, and a steady feed of iron to Gretta as she worked.

  And she needed a lot of iron. She made a frame of iron rods, as if to make a sturdy shield. She then took it a step further and hammered out a sheet of solid iron, shaping it to match the shield. She then put the whole thing in the furnace, heated it white hot, and started hammering the frame into the sheet at key points, fusing the two together. Lanie was more of a horseshoe and candleholder type of blacksmith, but she'd done a few shield frames in her life. Never a completely metal shield. That thing must weigh as much as a person.

  Gretta finally put her hammer down with a smile.

  "It's been a long time, but feels better than ever. Thank you, Lanie."

  "Thank me? Gretta this is incredible. A work of art. Who's it for?"

  "For myself, Lanie, I lost my last shield fighting a troll."

  Gretta didn't mention that she'd only survived a single blow, and that Zig had been the one to finish it off. Lanie looked at Gretta with stars in her eyes, like she was meeting her hero.

  "Come on, let's sharpen the bottom edge."

  It was tear drop shaped, with a round top but a pointed bottom. Gretta added an edge to the bottom, just in case it needed to cut into something. She stepped back and admired the finished result. The shield was done, and somehow Gretta had distracted Lanie enough that the young blacksmith never even mentioned payment for using the shop and for all the materials Gretta had taken. Gretta felt a little bad, and promised herself to come back and pay when she could. She said goodbye, and hefted the shield. It had a comfortable weight, a little lighter than her previous shield. Well, it was about five times heavier, but Advanced Strength more than compensated. Gretta walked back to the inn with a spring in her step , a shield on her arm, and one of Lanie's hammers tucked into her belt.

  She felt a little bad about the hammer.

  Teeth was sitting in the adventurers guild stables, utterly bored. Several times, people had noticed the horse staying far longer than the socially acceptable "visiting period". Whenever they got closer, though, Teeth smiled at them to prove she was being a good girl, and they ran away. Teeth snorted. She'd never fully understand humans. She was happy, very happy, to see Hepp get healed. Teeth wondered if her owner would heal her if she got injured. What a nice herd they were forming.

  But she was tired of this stable.

  Teeth tried not to do too much damage. She was on her best behavior. There was a wooden bar locking her into the stall, so Teeth reached down and gently bit it in half. She stepped out and came to the closed door of the stables. Doors. Such a human invention. You needed hands to open them. Ugh. Teeth carefully reared up and smacked two hooves into the door. The entire building shuddered a bit, but the door held. Teeth tried it again with a bit more force, and the door flew back onto the street with a crash. Teeth mentally patted herself on the back for being so careful and polite. Apart from the door, and perhaps the frame, the rest of the stables were completely fine. She trotted out onto the street, enjoying the sunshine warming her coat, and the gentle screams of people running for cover.

  It was good to be outside.

  Teeth picked her way back through the city, backtracking how she'd first reached the guild. She saw the Nest parked just inside the city gates. That might be a nice place to rest, but Teeth didn't want to rest. She wanted to stretch her legs. She wanted to run.

  The guards stumbled back, but weren't sure what to do. They didn't want this monster horse in their town, but she was leaving, so why would they stop her? They backed away, confused, hiding behind their pointed sticks as she walked through the gates. Teeth breathed in the open air, taking in the scent of the fields. She started to canter, then gallop back up the road. The sun warmed her back, the wind was in her hair. Teeth neighed in delight, causing all birds in the area to grow silent. They huddled in their nests, waiting for the horse to be far, far in the distance before resuming their singing again.

  Across town, Zig sat down at the inn, happily counting gold coins. He paused for a moment.

  "Am I forgetting something?"

  But he couldn't think too much. If he paused, his head was filled with thoughts of finding Beefcake, taking money, giving it to that awful human being. He shook his head.

  "Stupid curse."

  Zig went back to counting.