Rolling the thick boss miner’s ring around in one hand, Durg tugged at his dark brown bushy beard in thought with the other. He sat on a chair gazing into the cabins fireplace. Holding the desire of countless dwarves in his palm, while contemplating relinquishing the dream of one was never a place he thought he would be.

Durg wasn’t a smart man, he knew that. Going with his gut had more often than not served him better than trying to work out a problem. As he grew into adulthood, he had learned to throw himself in whatever direction felt right. As a result, he tended to be well aware of what he was good at, what he liked, and his own limitations. However, for the first time in a long while, he couldn’t intuit the proper course of action.

Grumbling to the lonesome cabin aloud, “Bah, we cannae trust anyone but house members with this. Too many people be knowin’ already.”

He poked at the fire, rolling the logs and shifting coals. Trusting that he wouldn’t discover the answer sitting by himself, Durg strung up the heavy ring on a leather cord and tied it around his neck. Bhelbir was probably cleaning up the forge, if he left for the hamlet now, he could probably catch him for dinner. The metal dwarf blacksmith had walked a similar crossroads to Durg’s current conundrum, maybe he could help.

Bhelbir was still at the forge by the time Durg got there. The copper haired dwarf was busy cleaning out the build up of spent coal and ash from the days work. After a quick trade of greetings, Durg picked up a broom and got to work hastening Bhelbir’s end of shift.

“So, Bhelbir, I’ve been thinkin’ hard about which profession ta take up now that I be able to. I always thought mining ta be a way ‘n support meself becoming warrior. But now that I need to choose, I dunna know which be the right choice, laborer or fighter. How did ya decide?”

Grunting, the blacksmith tossed a pair of freshly assembled mining picks into a crate.

“It was no simple feat. As you know, my family has long been a line of fightin’ folk. The cost of an apprenticeship is much greater than a blade and armor. Without Dorkas I would not have even had the option. When he was banished, I followed. By the time we made it out of the Deep Dark, well before arriving in Sunset, I knew it was how I could make my mark on the world.”

“How do you mean?”

“There be plenty o’ people who seek glory in battle. Before Dorkas fell to the gnolls he was responsible for giving the people here the means to protect themselves. For me, that be more than enough. He found a fire inside of me and nurtured it to a crucible.”

Durg stepped out of the blacksmith shop as Bhelbir clamped a large iron lock and chain in place, securing the wide double doors.

“I get ya. But do ya miss it? The thrill of combat.”

“I can still fight! You don’t have to give up monster huntin’ just cause you focus on a craft and take the profession. It don’t be servin’ the same purpose is all. I still protect whats mine and put down the occasional beast.”

Trailing behind Bhelbir as they made their way to the tavern, Durg resolved himself then and there. He was done overthinking, hesitation melted away like ice on a hot summer day. Yanking the ring from the cord around his neck, Durg shoved it onto his finger. The metal band was disconcertingly warm against his skin, but he paid it no mind. A loud rumbling from his gut preceded an overwhelming hunger. Durg’s pace picked up, he had much to eat and do.

Sitting behind the counter on a stool in the small recently constructed apothecary shop, Alana corrected the position of her round spectacles on the bridge of her nose. The before dinner rush had just ended, and only a few stragglers remained. She smoothed her fur robe out over her lap and waited for the customers to approach for prospective barter.

Kalani had placed her purple haired sister in charge of arranging continued deliveries of food and maintaining the small shop as a trading outlet. Providing all sorts of salves, unguents, and potions to the rugged mountain folk proved to be mutually beneficial. Alana had been the first, but not the last naga, to pick up the basics of the Common tongue.

Maerria had readily offered to tutor Kalani and any other naga who wished to learn. The queen had then encouraged others, including the children, to take up the language. At first, only the naga who could fully transform into an elven or dwarven form visited Sunset. However, after the initial shock wore off, the group of male loggers and miners were very, very supportive of increased interaction between the two small settlements. Now naga openly worked at the tavern and could be seen roaming the hamlet on most days.

Holding several small containers and a potion, a logger stepped close to the small counter in the one room store. He set down the items and sheepishly smiled.

“How much for the cleansing ointment and the minor stamina potion?”

Blinking her still serpentine eyes, Alana assessed the amount of labor and ingredients contained in the customers desired purchase. Alana may have been the first to pick up the local language, but she lagged behind on customs.

“One daysss hunting or something of equivalent value, human.”

Nodding, Sebastian took a satchel from his shoulder and took out five hares strung up on a single rope. They were gutted, but their furs were still intact. Alana gathered them up and hung the harvested animals on the back wall to be taken home when she left.

Laughing and drawing attention from the customers, two new naga women entered the shop and made their way to Alana. Lita and Tila both eyed Sebastian as they moved around him. Lita leaned in close and took a deep breath next to his shoulder, her tongue flicking out around his body. A deep throaty chuckle followed his lean away from her.

“My Sssissster and I would be happy to bed you human. You tassste of hard work and Sssmell delisshiousss. It would Ssstill be the Ssstandard rate of courssse,” Lita and Tila both turned to Alana, but it was Tila who continued the course of thought.

“Alana was his barter fair, or doesss he Ssstill need recompenssse?”

The two green haired sisters flanked Sebsatian completely. Lita put her arm around his lower back and pressed her body against him. Tila leaned close to his other side and flicked her tongue to tickle at his ear and the nape of his neck. Both had partially transformed to largely elven appearances, but here and there clear indicators of their reptilian nature popped through. Small patches of scales and their long tongues remained. Each were wearing very loose fitting robes that left little to the imagination.

Alana looked back at the hares and then to her two sisters and grinned, the tips of her fangs poking past her lips. “You could charge him half rate, and if he doesssn’t have anything to trade now, we can take payment tomorrow.”

Gulping, Sebastian looked back and forth between the two naga sisters pressing against him and nodded. They left with him out the backdoor and directed him to one of the three small cabins that provided private quarters in the hamlet. The naga had rented out all three from Maisy, only one had been converted to storage.

At the start, few of the naga had believed the wise silver haired dwarf. They had never heard of prostitution before, nor had a need for it, but they had taken to the practice like a snake to tall grass. The idea that males would pay a female to ravish them was not only strange, but immensely amusing.

For a people that had artificially limited the number of males available for generations, increased access to a pool of new, eager to please participants had created quite a stir. Without having to fight over mates, and by securing plentiful food, much of the tension that impacted the lantern naga evaporated like the mist their lake was named for.

Cinching a pair of finger-less gloves over his hands, Sir Walnut made eye contact with each of his assembled troops. They were on the lowest branch of a twin pine near the stage, hidden by bushy bunches of needles. A small bone sword, the length and sharpness of a darning needle, was tied tight to his back. Pacing the branch, he marched back and forth as his soldiers prepared themselves.

Sir Walnut Pinesong’s son, Spearmint, preened his tail and fluffed it. Chittering, he checked with his father regarding the operation.

“Me and Alderleaf will go in through the roof. You and the others will sneak in through the back door. When you give the signal we each select a target, secure it, and escape before the distraction is over?”

“That’s it. No getting greedy. We mustn't be seen. It is important that we secure offerings for our goddess, but until we make ourselves known, staying hidden is still of utmost importance.”

“Yes sir!” Resounded from the assembled warriors.

Sir Walnut lead the other five chipmunkin through the trees as they ran on all fours through the branches. They had some weapons and sacks, but wore no clothes, only their fur. Their white markings had been dulled by rubbing in ash, making them look like bushy tailed mice.

Springing from branch to branch, they neared their target. They pulled up short on the final branch overhanging Stout’s tavern. Sir Walnut, or Wally to his friends, gave a couple of quick paw signals and then charged down the trunk of the tree. Three of the others followed their leader, scampering down and onto the forest floor before covering the short distance to the base of the building.

Alderleaf and Spearmint dashed to the tip of the branch and then jumped off. Landing with little thumps on the roof, they deftly skittered to the upstairs window. Alder quickly cleaned her whiskers and edged up to the open sill. Poking her head over, she peered around the room with beady eyes.

No one was in the space, they were free to proceed. They would never bother Maisy, but that didn’t mean her guests were off the menu. Running through the room, the two chipmunkin scurried through the open door and to the top of the staircase. Then they dropped down onto the rafters in the main room of the tavern.

Positioning herself above a hanging lantern, Alder scoped out the various patrons. The gnome behind the bar who was shouting was also off limits. Stout never really interacted with the chipmunkin, but they knew riling him up was a terrible idea. Sparky, the fire mage’s flame familiar, had once scorched almost all the fur off of a friend of Alder’s who had gone for a swim in a cooking stew pot.

They knew to keep away from the new colorful haired females in town as well. The chipmunkins could smell the reptilian predators, and as an inherent prey species, sensed the true nature of the shape changed naga. Thankfully, the rodents were no more than a single mouthful and the naga appeared disinterested. As her eyes glanced over a table near the back entrance, she spotted her objective. Even in the dim light of single candle lanterns the sparkling radiance called to her. It would be perfect!

Waiting an interminable amount of time, Alder slowly crept along the solid beams of the ceiling until she was right overhead of an unsuspecting dwarf. She thought he was talking about mining, but it could have easily been some type of crafting for all she knew. Nibbling on a seed she had tucked away in her cheek for just this sort of occasion, she bided her time. Alder was ready when the signal clattered in the kitchen followed by a loud string of curses.

Wally, or one of her compatriots, had managed to knock over the largest stack of pots and pans. The loud noise had drawn everyone’s attention, including her targets. Alder climbed down the wall and ran up under Durg’s chair. Jumping from one chair leg to the other, she pulled herself up onto his lap.

Drawing the small blade strapped to her back, Alder slashed upwards in a quick skilled strike. The button quickly fell into her tiny reaching paws as her blade severed the string holding Durg’s tunic in place. Her mission complete, she leapt down to the floor and bolted out the backdoor of the tavern and into the night.

Shoving the prized shiny button into the pouch tied to her back, Alder shifted to a run on all fours until she was back at the base of the closest twin pine. Soon she was joined by each of her companions. Wally held up a clear shot glass, obviously purloined from the bar. The others had various sparkly nick knacks as well. Alder pulled out her button and held it up proudly.

The chipmunkin danced cheerfully. No one followed them out, or even seemed to have noticed that they had been there. Reconvening back in their tree houses high up in the twilight woods, the recently thieved items joined a squirreled away cache of glittering coins, buttons, pieces of ore, and other odds and ends. Another successful raid in the name of Theia’s illumination.