After that, the four of them decide to take the rest of the day slow and to stay inside of the guild, only leaving once to get dinner, before retreating back inside of their room together. Jubilee tells everyone to straighten up and be watchful, but Fresh doesn’t need to be told that. Even she recognizes the seriousness of the situation right away.

Jubilee is a well-traveled person with many contacts in seemingly every single city they go to, so it isn’t a surprise that they knew people here as well. But the murder of the two merchants, who were purveyors of really only the most common and boring wares imaginable, shortly after their arrival here in this city is too well timed to be anything but someone trying to make a move against them.

But who? Why? The thieves’ guild? Just to make their lives harder? What could be the point? Fresh doesn’t know. It’s not like they knew anything special, right? They were just normal merchants.

She sighs, picking at the piece of bread on her plate that she is forcing herself to eat, if only to set a good example for Basil who is having a harder time swallowing the topic and her food. That night ends up being another ‘sleepover’ night, with all four of them cramming themselves into the corner of the room again.

The next day comes. Jubilee tells them that they aren’t splitting up anymore until they feel out the situation more, everyone agrees.

“So how do you feel about crab-items?” asks Jubilee, as they walk through the city later that day, on their way to the dungeon.

“Crab-items?” asks Fresh, pondering the idea.

“Crab-bits are cheap as shit in this town, given the endless supply of em. Anything you can do with that?”

Fresh crosses her arms. “I don’t want to make crab-items. The poor crabs…” she says.

Jubilee stares at her. “Really? Crab-equipment is where you draw the line?” they ask. “Not pulling goblin-teeth or skinning kobolds, but crabs?”

Fresh nods. “I like crabs, Jubilee.”

Jubilee sighs. “Fine. Whatever. We should check out the dungeon anyways,” they suggest. “We can see what kind of bullshit we can’t find there for you to make more trinkets and evil knick-knacks out of.”

“My knick-knacks aren’t evil!” argues Fresh, crossing her arms. “Besides, crab-armor is a dumb idea.”

Jubilee stops in their tracks, staring at her. “Are you fucking with me right now?” they ask, placing their hands on their hips. “After all of the fuckery you’ve been up to…” Jubilee stops themselves, shaking their head. “You know what? No, I don’t give a shit. Fine, don’t make any crab-equipment.”

“Mm,” nods Fresh, looking around. Basil and Shamrock are walking behind them, but aren’t really participating in this half-joking conversation. Basil has been on edge ever since last night, being sensitive to the topic. Plus, Fresh isn’t sure what it is that the two of them saw, but it must have been really bad if it even shook Jubilee. Basil is likely still processing. Shamrock is simply on the lookout.

Despite that, on their way through the city, Fresh still makes them stop as they pass by many interesting store-front windows. One of them, near the water, is a monster-trader. Several large eggs and other various, unidentifiable fleshy blobs, sit on display together with drawings of monsters next to them. Fresh gasps, seeing the wide variety of monsters that she could buy. Dozens of creatures, including giant serpents, anqas, monstrous spiders and to her great confusion, mush-mushes.

“Jubilee?” asks Fresh. “How do mush-mushes make eggs?” Jubilee looks at her and then at the other two and then just keeps walking without replying. Fresh puffs out her cheek, staring back at the window longingly. Apparently, you really can buy everything in a harbor-city. But what would she even do with a monster? It seems like a lot of work and she’d have to feed it and take care of it and, quite frankly, she already has enough responsibilities with keeping her friends fed and doted-on and taken care of.

“Psst,” whispers a strange voice from an alley to her side. Fresh turns her head, looking at the scraggly man standing there. He opens the side of his coat. “Hey girlie, Wanna buy a slime?” asks the shady man, gesturing to the wobbling fluids contained inside of the bottles that he has strapped to the inside of his coat. “Hominid-slimes are twenty-percent off today!”

Fresh blinks, considering the offer for a moment, if only to free those poor slimes. “Fuck off!” barks Jubilee at him, grabbing her hand and pulling her away and back into the rest of the group.

There are many special things about the eastern city, mostly brought on by the incredibly diverse selection of exotic wares here. It doesn’t matter which street they go down, everywhere that they go, she sees at least one thing that she doesn’t recognize, be it a fruit, some equipment or even just the clothes that some of the people here are wearing.

Fresh points at a store that specializes in what Jubilee would describe as ‘woo-woo fuckery’. Crystals, herbs, incense, scriptures and wands and all manner of things of that nature. “I need some stuff here for the… uh…” Fresh looks around. “- the thing,” she explains, ducking into the store, while the others wait outside.

She speaks to the somewhat oddly dressed, older woman, who looks exactly like the kind of person who would run this kind of store, asking her if she has the things that she needs. The first one is easy enough and there is ample of it in stock, as it is commonly used in potion brewing for defensive potions.

[Sideritis](Normal)

Commonly used in herbal medicine. It is abundant in high-altitude, temperate regions of the world. This herb requires very little soil to grow and generally sprouts out from rocky surfaces.

Weight: 0.14kg Length: 37cm Value: 29

The second ingredient, however…

“Medea’s mallow?” asks the store-owner. “That’s a hard one,” thinks the woman, looking around the store. “Would you like a crystal instead? Fresh from the western-mountain!” Fresh does her best not to make a face at this statement.

“No, thank you, I really need the mallow.”

Seeing that she isn’t going to buy something else, the woman bends down below the counter and grabs a catalog, flapping through it. “Well… The last order of mallow we got was… uh… let’s see here -” She flips through the pages. “About ten years ago. Boy,” she whistles and lifts her eyes. “That was back just about when the hero-party was around and doing their thing.” The shopkeeper sighs and shakes her head. “Better days.”

“Can you order more?” asks Fresh. “I’ll pay!”

“The problem is that it only grows in the south,” says the store-owner. “There’s still some left in the safe-area, but I’ll have to send my boy and his anqa down there to fetch some.” She pulls out a sheet, listing up a few items. “You’ll have to cover traveling expenses, hourly rate, hazard pay, provisions for him and the anqa as well as a fee for the plant itself, of course,” she says, writing down a whole slew of numbers. “For ten-thousand, we’ll have it within two weeks.”

Fresh nods. “Okay. Thank you,” she says. “I’ll bring the money by tomorrow,” she promises. Only after she exits the door does she realize how this sum of money didn’t even make her blink. It’s exactly the same amount that had made her heart fall into despair back when she had indebted herself to the adventurers’ guild.

After that is taken care of, the four of them head down the long staircase towards the beach, passing through the three tiers of houses. They step foot onto the sand together, but nobody seems to be in the mood to play around. Fresh, understanding the serious looks in their eyes, does her best to straighten herself upright as well, as all four of them head into the eastern-dungeon together.