“PAKEW!” shouts the newly spawned spriggan, only moments after popping to life right in front of a very surprised elf, who lets out a sharp gasp, her hands by her mouth as she watches the small monster. The little creature lifts its stubby arms and starts bobbing up and down in an odd, excited half-dance.

Fresh thinks that it just wants the staff from the elf, but from an outsider’s perspective, it looks like it’s reaching for her.

Giddy, the elf picks it up with both of her hands and the two of them stare at each other for a quiet moment from up close. The spriggan lifts a stubby, fat arm and places the tip of it onto the elf’s nose.

“I’LL TAKE IT!” she yells, perhaps somewhat too loudly, as she quickly spins her head around towards the counter.

“Pakew!”

Jubilee’s glove taps the wood. “One hundred ninety-nine for the wand,” they say. “Double if you want a staff.”

The elf’s lip trembles as she looks back at the spriggan and then over to her party, who are standing by the medicine section.

“Deal!” she says, ignoring the clearly objecting looks she gets from her group as she rushes over to the counter to pay for the spriggan and not for the wand, which she has left behind on the shelf. Laughing, Fresh makes her way around, grabbing it and bringing it up to the till.

The wands are pretty popular amongst the more easily excitable adventurers because of the spriggans, who the cosmic-system classifies as ‘pets’. That means they’re unable to harm their owners and are bound to follow their instructions within a reasonable limit. Also there is a popularity amongst the more fiscally conservative parties, looking to cut corners on their healing budget.

Conversely, there are a few sour faced healers who Fresh can’t help but feel bad for. She may have put one or two people out of work with her wands…

Though, thankfully, this isn’t too extreme in all actual likelihood. The spriggans as healers are only able to heal according to their own level, which is one, so they’re more of an auxiliary than a real replacement. For now. It’s still open whether they can level up, but Fresh assumes that they can. As for the healing effect on the wands themselves, that can only be used ten times a day before a person is entirely drained and knocked out because of their depletion of soul-sickness, so it isn’t a viable strategy either barring the occasional emergency heal.

Perhaps this is what stops the many druids, priests and other such people from setting fire to their house.

Fresh lets out an uneasy wave, waving goodbye to the elf’s party as they leave, one member fuller than before. The spriggan waves goodbye to her, reaching over the elf’s shoulder.

“’Tschu!” sneezes a small orc, holding a rag in front of her face. Her friend looks at her, somewhat grossed out.

“What?” she asks, annoyed. “I have the sniffles.”

“That’s just the evil leaking out of you,” says their friend, a cloaked man who makes Fresh twitchy at first. But he doesn’t seem to be from the thieves’ guild. He’s just some man in a cloak.

Wait…

Hasn’t she seen these three before?

Fresh tilts her head, watching them look through the medicine section. “Ah!” she mutters to herself, realizing. When she was here to curse the hero, she saw those three wandering around the festival, drunk and having the time of their lives.

She blinks, looking around the room, remembering that she cursed the hero. Man. That sure was a thing that happened.

Frowning, she looks down at the wood of the counter, wondering. What ever happened to him? To the hero, Garnett? What happened to his awkward, but kind sister who had just wanted more from life than she had been given? Peridot?

Fresh scratches her cheek, feeling like there was something about them that she knows about, but it’s on the tip of her mental-tongue. There’s something there, but she just isn’t sure what it i-

“Excuse me,” asks a voice. Fresh blinks, looking up. A man is standing there in front of her. “Do these really work?” he asks, pointing at the little pamphlet. It’s a piece of paper that is folded together, sealed along the edges with some bees’ wax. The outside has a depiction of a tall, half grown spriggan. The inside is full of details listing their weak points, tendencies and abilities.

“Sure as fuck do,” says Jubilee. “Shamrock.”

Shamrock looks over at the man, holding one of his ‘murder manuals’ as Jubilee had called them. “Yes,” is all that he says, nodding.

“See? Straight from the source,” replies Jubilee, pointing over their shoulder with their thumb at Shamrock. “Ninety-nine Obols for a permanent boost against spriggans. It’s a good deal.”

The man thinks. “Hmm…”

Fresh blinks, looking at them. She lifts a finger, tapping against the sealed pamphlet.

[Murder Manual]{Spriggan(Stage 2)}(Normal) A detailed guide on the attributes, statuses and abilities of spriggans in their second stage of growth. It contains a detailed listing of all of their weaknesses, habits and traits. Use: When read: Permanently raises all DMG against {Spriggans (Stage 2)} by 5%

Notes:

This pamphlet disintegrates when read once.

This effect can not be stacked.

Weight: 0.16kg Value: ???

The man thinks for a moment longer, looking at the menu. Honestly, Fresh is really proud of Shamrock for these. Sure, they’re a little grim. But a permanent stat boost against common monster types is a huge selling point. They’re very potent items. Plus since they always only count for one type of monster and can only be read by one person each, that means everybody has to buy their own pamphlet as well as one for every single type of monster that they want a boost against.

It’s just good business.

He nods, setting down a silver Obol onto the counter. Fresh hands him one back.

(Fresh) sold [Murder Manual]{Spriggan (Stage 2)}(Normal)

for

[{99} Obols ] !

“Thank you, come again!” she beams, waving goodbye to the customer. “Good job, Shamrock!” she praises. “They really seem to like them.”

“Finally,” sighs Jubilee. “Someone around here apart from myself is pulling their weight.”

“Please,” says Basil from the shelves. She’s restocking as her medicine seems to be going well. There appears to be a case of deadly-sniffleitus going around town right now. The orc sneezes into her rag again. “Try those,” says Basil to her, pointing at a small glass vial. “They’ll take care of that sneeze.”

“Thanks,” groans the orc, wandering over to the bottles.

Basil turns back to Jubilee. “As if you ever do anything productive around here.”

“Shut up, Basil,” sighs Jubilee. “It doesn’t surprise me that all you can make is medicine,” they remark. “Just being around you is sickening.”

Basil lifts her nose. “You should try looking in the mirror sometime,” replies Basil. “It’s a wonder any of us are still sane after spending this long around your toxic personality.”

“Go team!” shouts Fresh randomly into the room. The three of them look her way. She looks between them and then shrugs. “I didn’t know what else to say and I don’t want you guys to fight all the time,” she admits.

After that, the situation calms itself down somewhat. Basil and Jubilee get back to their work and Shamrock, not needed behind the counter after a while, helps Basil with the shelves as well as the items from the dungeon that they’re buying.

Given their somewhat tight budget, they aren’t buying everything just yet, but mostly everything. Fresh makes a note that she needs to get a cauldron up and running again, so that they can start doing repairs. They really need the cash-flow.

The shop runs along on its first day with a slow, but constant trickle of people. There isn’t a huge, excited, rabid rush to their door like there was in the east. But there is always a slight flow of people in and out. Just about everybody who comes in takes something, or at the very least asks a few interested questions about their items. Honestly, the people here seem really kind, Fresh notices.

Though, she had already noticed that once before.

In a sense, she’s glad that they aren’t being bombarded with customers though. Fresh closes her eyes and just relaxes for a moment, feeling the rays of the morning sun shine in through the door onto her face.

Jubilee closes the till again as the next person leaves. The drawer closes, rattling noisily as it is already full of coins.

Their new venture is off to a strong and steady start and this time, she’s confident that they have the recipe and the formula nailed down. This time, nothing is going to go wrong. This time, this last time in this last city available to them…

This time, it’s finally going to be alright. The warmth on her face proves that to her.

Buzzing with energy, with joy, Fresh opens her eyes and looks at the next customer in line.

The red-wizard stands there, staring at her.