Sebas didn’t expect he’d be back in Bountiful so soon. His encounter with Baron Evert’s men four months ago prompted him to stay away from the city. The trip to the port city of Forge was longer, but he enjoyed the anonymity. Stretching his legs and going out for long walks also brought a sense of calm and contentment. Now he was back in the city, and he was sure there would be eyes waiting for him.

The Corner Shop™ was starting to get patrons. At first, it was just for the drops — but pretty soon they were selling rations, adventuring gear, as well as mundane tools for forestry. Unless he gets an assistant, a trip to Forge would leave the shop unmanned — and they’d lose a bit of gold.

The butler ponders if he should try to find one in Bountiful. He could certainly use their network of friendly nobles — but he didn’t want spies in their operation. His master’s quirks also narrowed his potential pool of assistants. He needed one with tight lips, a bit of intestinal fortitude, and a predisposition to tolerating the strange — they did have a gargantuan snail for a pet.

“Sebas! It’s been a long time.”

He just smiles at Levan. Of course the guard captain would notice — he probably has standing orders to report their comings and goings.

“Just buying supplies for the shop.”

“I heard it was picking up,” nods the captain. “Something about healing stones and unmentionables….”

“Healing drops,” he corrects. “You just swallow them like a treat — better than opening a potion in the heat of battle.”

The captain seems intrigued but Sebas could see the hesitation in his face.

“Here, I have a few.”

He takes out a handful of flat red oval drops. He suggested the color, since producing them resulted in an odd sickly green color from all the herbs, which wasn’t that appealing. The drops had a stamp of a snail and the initials CS.

“You just swallow them?”

“Preferably.”

“How much do they cost?”

“These ones are free, but you can buy more at the Corner Shop™ for 30 gold — maybe less if you buy them in bulk.

Captain Levan stares at the drops, seemingly admiring their efficiency.

“Is the snail stamp integral to the healing magics, or could it be changed to something else?”

“It’s just a stamp,” Sebas answers. “If you get more than 30, we can easily change it to any crest or image you want — as long as it’ll fit.

“That’s good to know,” Levan says, pocketing the drops. “Thank you for the samples.”

“Anything for the guards that keep Bountiful safe,” Sebas smiles and starts to walk ù only to be blocked by the captain.

He looks apologetically at the butler. “I’m sorry, Sebas — but you know we have to ask.”

He sighs. His trips to Forge made him forget his troubles at Bountiful.

“Go ahead.”

“Has your master — the Wizard Jeremy, known to the guards as the Ram, — abducted, maimed, or killed anyone within the past months since you last visited?”

“If you mean people — then no.” There was that incident with kobolds and Lenny, but that shouldn’t count.

The guard captain frowns, eyeing the butler.

“By people, I mean humans, elves, dwarves, and any other member of the goodly races or the few that are not that the city considers people.”

“Sorry, had to check. One of the nobles suggested you might be looking down on regular people — considering them trash, and getting around the truthteller.”

“You’d expect that from a noble, won’t you?

“Indeed, Sebas, indeed,” Levan waves him on. “Normal folks like us get the shaft when nobles start pushing their weight around.”

Sebas heard the deeper meaning in the captain’s words. Was it a warning?

His momentary confusion made him glance back at the captain — only to see a horrific sight that boded ill.

One of the guards was holding a stone and motioning to his behind.

***

I should have gone with the wizard.

Not seeing the hydra frustrated the dwarf to no end. Sure it only had three heads — or two since one was cut off — but it would make a good story for his clan.

He needed to get the wizard’s good graces — or perhaps his butler’s. It seemed like Sebas was in charge of the shop, so maybe he could get discounts for his Lifesavers™.

He could afford the 25 gold for the drops. Their party had a year-long discount for the drops, and Sebas even made a structured payment plan so they could buy a bunch at a lower cost. However, Lifesavers™ were pretty expensive. Then again, 200 gold to avoid death was a good deal. They worked pretty fast — but the pain was excruciating. The church charged around 300-500 gold for similar services, but they won’t be easily accessible inside a dungeon.

Their party made a commitment that day — just because the butler offered to change the stamp on their drops to something more suitable for their party. Their party didn’t have a name before then, and he was sure the naming was primarily for the decorative stamp.

Oak and Steel — it sounded like an elvish name. He agreed since the name also reminded him of barrels of mead — oak and steel indeed.

Dallarath and the rest were happy with the drops — but he needed a Lifesaver™. Maybe he could offer to do some work for the Corner Shop™ on their downtime, perhaps do some forging?

***

“That the guy?” Joric asks. He wasn’t a thug, but he didn’t mind a little thuggery if it paid well.

“Yep, that’s him,” answers Nettle. “He’s the Scourge’s butler, so be ready for a few tricks.” Unlike his companion, Nettle was a thug. He squeezed shop owners for money and beat up more than a few unwitting travelers for their gold.

“He don’t look so scary.” Joric adds, “and he’s not carrying.” The thug for hire was confident he could take him on — maybe score a few more points for his employers.

“We just rough him up,” instructs a hooded figure. “No killing… for the meantime — but search for those red stones that he carries with him.”

“The healing drops?” Joric asks. “Don’t you put them up your….”

“No, you idiot,” barks Nettle. “You do that for Lifesavers™. The drops, you can eat.”

The hooded figure grits his teeth in frustration. Why do I need to associate with idiots like these two? He could have easily done the job on his own. Even if the butler had a bit of training, he wouldn’t be a match for his skills with the sword.

“Enough talking.”

He signals for the two to follow. He turns to an adjacent street, signaling another pair of thugs to do the same.

***

It took Sebas 30 minutes to notice his tails. Two were quite noticeable, while another one was more subtle. He could the hostility in the gazes of the first two — they were either trying to intimidate him, or they were just really bad at tailing.

He just finished his supply run of herbs, spices, meats, vegetables, and flour. Root crops they had plenty — but he had yet to plant a proper vegetable garden in their backyard. He was quite knowledgeable regarding plants and gardening. Dealing with thugs was another matter.

Sebas was no fighter. He’d rather avoid a fight than get into one — especially in the middle of a city. His actions would reflect poorly on his master, and he’d rather keep his clothes clean.

He quickens his steps, heading back to the market. The thugs probably won’t attempt anything with people around, and he was friendly with a few stall owners.

His pursuers follow, abandoning their semblance of keeping out of sight. He identifies another thug, raising the number of his pursuers to four.

These weren’t the Baron’s men. They were disheveled and dressed like commoners. Why would street thugs target me?

The butler’s eyes dart around the market, looking for a way to hinder or escape his pursuers. He notes the lack of guards where it should be teeming with them — and his heart drops. Was this what Captain Levan was warning him about?

“It’s Sebastian, isn’t it?” a hooded stranger approaches his side.

“Not really — but it’s a common mistake.” Sebas stops. If he could talk his way out of this mess, it was a better option than getting hurt.

The stranger frowns. “Don’t deny it, butler. We know who you are.” He parts his cloak to reveal a knife.

It was ornate and gilded — a bit out of place for a small city like Bountiful. Mercenaries and guards were equipped sparingly, even if their employers were nobility.

“You’re not from around here,” Sebas declares.

“That’s not important,” the man sneers. “The scourge is stepping on a lot of toes lately. It’s best for him to stay in line.”

“If you could be clearer, it would be very helpful,” sighs the butler. “Is it the church? Some noble? A disgruntled farmer? A wizard? A witch? A mother with a scared child? Perhaps, elves?”

Sebas stares at the hooded figure with a hint of irritation. “As you can see, my master is very unpopular.”

He notices two more thugs appearing on his other side — effectively flanking him. Another two settle themselves a short distance away. Things were getting serious.

“Do you need me to send a message to Master Jeremy?” Sebas asks, his voice cracking in tension. “You probably know him as the Scourge.”

The thugs momentarily shrink at the mention of the Scourge, but the hooded figure doesn’t balk at the name.

“You will be the message, Sebas. The scourge will learn to..”

“Sebas? Just the man I was looking for!”

The dwarf was like a blessing to Sebas’ eyes.

He didn’t seem to notice was what happening — but he wasn’t the sharpest in his party.

“Master Siege,” he greets his would-be savior. “How nice to run into you. I was about to see you and say your Lifesaver would be done by tomorrow.”

The dwarf beams at the mention of his Lifesaver™. While he was bleeding money from buying it — his last one certainly saved him from bleeding to death.

“These men are?” asks the dwarf, noticing the increasing tension. Two of the thugs were fidgeting as if reaching for weapons, while the hooded figure was surveying the scene for guards or reinforcement.

“Acquaintances,” Sebas answers cheerfully. “Hopefully future patrons of the Corner Shop™.”

“Eh?”

Sebas’ explanation confounded the already confused dwarf. Were they about to get into a fight or was Sebas just negotiating a business deal?

The butler’s sunny disposition similarly perplexes the thugs. They look to the hooded figure, waiting for some sort of instruction.

“I’ll be on my way,” the butler declares, “If you can kindly inform these men about the applications of the healing drops and Lifesavers™ — it would be great.”

He gives the dwarf another grip on the arm — before darting for the nearest exit.

“G-get him!”

The hooded man wakes from his stupor. Was that a spell? A trick of the mind? Whatever it was, the butler was getting away.

The nearest thugs start to run, but Siege blocks their path.

“Well you see, you can take the drops by eating them or placing them inside a wound,” the dwarf starts explaining. “The drops work like a healing potion, but they won’t heal broken bones or severed limbs — for that you need Lifesavers™.

One of the thugs starts nodding his head, while the other speeds of towards where the butler fled.

“So Lifesaver’s can restore a hand that’s been cut off?” Joric asks.

“Sure can. I had both feet cut off at the ankles and Lifesavers™ grew them back good as new in just a couple of minutes.”

The thug notices he’s alone with the smiling dwarf — his companions long gone in pursuit of the butler.

“Thanks! I’ll keep that in mind!” he waves at the dwarf as he starts giving chase.