It was mid afternoon by the time Raylas put the journal down. The passage about the ruins was… different than he expected.

The place wasn’t completely unknown. Due to some backroom deals with an information broker, who went by the name ‘Third Barber’, the Captain was able to acquire a map or sorts which pointed out discovered traps. It was supposed to be a remnant of the Adventurer’s Guild, a lost treasure from some long dead adventurer who delved deep into the dangerous complex.

The expedition was a disaster recorded in great detail in fast, sloppy writing. The map didn’t have every trap written down so some people were killed the first day. Luckily none of the group. Then the following days there were changes not recorded as if the ruin had changed itself. Rolft was injured that day and nearly lost his head. He had found a lone room behind a section of wall and went in to explore.

Surprise, it was a trap which slaughtered his group, barely leaving him alive.

The final day was when they got attacked by an Ogre. The giant creature demolished the supports in a large chamber causing a collapse, blocking the deeper portions of the dungeon from explorers from then on.

Needless to say the Captain was very upset at the loss of profits. In his anger he ripped the ancient map up, only to realize he could have scammed some other group with it just like he was.

Raylas sighed as he set the book to the side and stood up. The snow lightly fell outside, but the sun was bright and the street surprisingly busy. He smiled and leaned back in the comfortable chair, enjoying the warmth of the fire.

“Good afternoon, Miss Sapphire,” Darling called cheerfully.

Raylas cracked his eyes open as he saw the girl descend the stairs. She was wearing one of the new dresses she bought the previous day, a reddish one which seemed to clash with her hair. At the same time there were some gold trimmings on it which helped complement it so it didn’t look tacky.

I have a debt to pay, he thought.

His muscles felt worn, but he felt full of energy after resting this long. Raylas stood up and headed over to the counter.

“Finished reading?” Darling asked.

“For now,” he said. “I do believe I have a tab open for the shopping done yesterday.”

“Indeed you do,” Darling chuckled as Sapphire strode up to the bar. “If I recall correctly the pretty miss got four outfits.”

“A color from each of my sisters plus one that I liked,” Sapphire giggled. “I’ll have to show you them later.”

Raylas sighed and shook his head when he felt the stares of the other men in the tavern. Most seemed amused, yet a few seemed jealous. Thankfully he felt to killing intent from any… yet. Pretty women were a dangerous ally at times.

“A pint of copper for the lot,” Darling stated.

“Now that is a bit expensive for just some clothing,” Raylas sniffed. “A shirt alone would cost just two, maybe three coins.”

“But these have such lovely designs and trimmings,” Darling countered. “The extra effort of the seamstress increases the cost.”

“I will reward for the effort and skilled workmanship,” he agreed. “As such I can’t go more than a cup.”

“You are dragging my name in the mud!” she gasped at his counter.

Raylas smiled at the theatrics of the woman. It was just like a merchant trying to take every coin he had, but from the times he had to buy supplies he had at least some skill in bartering.

“Since you have been so gracious with me I would feel terrible to drag your name so. I will give you a cup and a half,” he relented.

“That is better,” Darling chuckled.

“I would also buy one of those wines Dave spoke about when I first arrived to sweeten the deal,” he added as the final touch.

The woman’s smile grew and she pulled out a large cup. Raylas sighed at the sight since it was nearly the size of a pint glass. His cup and a half actually cost him more money than just buying the pint!

He had been had again!

With a defeated chuckle he stacked the copper to the top of the cup then half again. He then made another stack of coins for the wine, then slid the stacks over to the thieving merchant.

“It's good doing business with you, Mister Raylas,” she laughed happily.

“Got another one!” a patron chuckled.

Raylas gave him a dismissive wave but agreed. He lost this battle, but there was time for him to win later. He had all week to outmaneuver the wily tradeswoman.

“You should have gone with the pint, Master.”

The room burst into laughter and he had to join.

“Indeed I should have,” he agreed. He turned with a wave to Darling. “I am going to head out and wander the town a bit. Sitting all day doesn’t feel right for someone of my trade.”

“Grab a thicker shirt, then,” the woman said as she wiped a tear from her eyes.

He nodded and took his book toward the stairs, Sapphire at his heels.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” she whispered in his ear.

“It isn’t often I get so badly beaten,” Raylas sighed. He felt good today, a move toward normalcy. “You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say I was cursed.

He burst out laughing at his bad joke, but inside he felt himself cringe. It was all good to try to raise your spirits, it was another to make light of an extremely serious situation. But at the moment he needed an out of some kind, so bad jokes will just have to do.

“I wouldn’t say you’re cursed, Master,” the girl said, clearly concerned. “You are blessed in many ways.”

He stopped laughing and became somber. “Unless there is an archbishop outside the tavern now or the Pope himself descended into the town square I would say it's accurate I’m cursed.”

“If you see it as a curse it’ll be a curse,” she chided. “But if you see them as gifts and blessings you can make use of them to improve.”

She made sense, yet for all her logic her addled mind just doesn’t seem to understand the implications of being cursed. By an artifact, no less. They lure troubles to you, like monsters. They seem to sense you are stronger than your counterparts and target you specifically. Even some organizations will seek you out if they get the idea you are special.

Raylas never wanted to meet another Hero Hunter again. Those zealots were more insane than the girl next to him, and easily three times more deadly.

He opened the door to his room and went inside. He set the book on the table and took his cloak, then eyed the weapon in the corner.

Sapphire saw his gaze and walked over to it to take it up, as well as the bag. She held out her hands, waiting for him to take them from her.

“You’re a warrior,” she said. “You need a weapon when you travel.”

The chain sparkled with a strange warmth, becoming him to take it. The words also called for him to read, but this time he resisted. He peered at the pile of stuff in his room and eyed the carving knife. If he needed a weapon he might be able to use tha–

He felt a thump against his chest as the girl shoved the chain into him.

“You will take it or I’ll wrap it around you like a belt.”

Sighing in defeat he took the chain and tied it around his sheath loop for easy access. He could use the dagger if dangers came up, at least.

He eyed the bag and shook his head.

“No.”

“This is the inheritan–”

“I will not,” he repeated. “There are limits to what a person can handle and that is just too much.”

The visions from the night before flashed before his eyes. The bones of monsters from stories. Glowing orbs, a sea of gold… the dragon.

There was too much there, too much for one person to work with. It was too easy to abuse when you had that much excess of fortune, and if an artifact attracted attention that thing would be like a beacon of light in the middle of a zombie horde.

“Then I shall carry it for you,” the girl grumbled.

“I would prefer you didn’t,” Raylas sighed.

“Just like I preferred you didn’t call me a harlot.”

He opened his mouth to counter, then exhaled in defeat. Touche.

They finished up preparing to go outside, the girl also putting on her new cloak. It was a light gray color with a fur lining. She seemed to enjoy the feeling and wrapped herself up in it contently.

Raylas smiled as they left the room, then the girl turned into mist for a moment before the room emptied of every personal belonging. When she reappeared he gave her a serious look.

“Every item is stored in the vault, Master,” she answered. “It wouldn’t be a good idea to leave anything of value behind.”

Raylas paused again and had to take a couple breaths to let the situation sink in. She threw all his stuff into that blasted dungeon bag. Now she cemented herself deeper onto him since now he was completely reliant to get anything back.

This wouldn’t do.

“We can’t take everything with us,” he said, his mind whirling to think of a good excuse. “If nothing is left then Dave and Darling might think we have left. I did prepay for the week, but they are business people. If someone gets drunk and there is a free room they’ll use it.”

“So we should leave some stuff here?”

“Of course,” he declared. “I would say our clothes and travel bags. Then leave a couple valuables as well, like the map, but have them tucked away and hidden. We don’t want to get robbed, but we also don’t want them to think we have no trust in them.”

Sapphire smiled and dissipated again. Raylas let out a sigh of relief that his bluff worked. With at least those out of the bag he could still travel without her if they found a way to cure her. He also peered around the room, searching for some good hiding spots.

While he didn’t dislike the two owners, he also didn’t trust them. They seemed to be holding too many secrets, and they are the kind which they might get violent to keep unknown. Him just knowing about the monster created stirs, but what would happen if he discovered what kind of monster it was? Why they made the deal? What would they do then?

Trust was too valuable to give up.

Once the girl returned they set out of the tavern into the snowy streets. People traced from business to business, though a few brave souls did try to hawk their wares on the street corners. Specifically those that sold hot stones or portable flames.

“It's odd to see they still exist,” Sapphire mumbled. “Hot stones are formed only in hot climates while flame crystals exist only in volcanic regions.”

“Is that so?” Raylas asked. “This region tends to be rather cold half the year, but is littered with them. Most settlements harvest them before winter and use them to heat themselves during winter work. They don’t last long but their use is vital to the livelihood of everyone in the Kasan kingdom.”

“I wonder…”

She trailed off, seemingly lost in thought.

Raylas shrugged and kept walking heading to the walls. The guards were active and alert, a strange occurrence from what he was used to. By this time of day most tended to be napping near the gate, just waiting for something interesting to happen.

Maybe it was just something to do with this town. They were near a forest of monsters, so attentiveness made perfect sense. Their discipline also appeared to be above average. Maybe that Knight did some training while he was here?

The smell of fresh bread caught his attention. There was a bakery right near the wall, and a covered dining area. The building looked like a renovated stable, where the horses were once housed and now held tables and chairs. A large window on the side of the building was also opened to release the smoke of the ovens, releasing an intoxicating smell to attract customers.

He pat his pouch which was noticeably lighter. He had a good amount of copper remaining and could still splurge a little. Without being able to buy ale his purse was strangely heavy in the morning.

He gave Sapphire a nod and the two of them started toward the building. He was halfway there, enjoying the aromas the store released, when a repugnant odor of rot assaulted his nose.

Raylas gagged and looked around the area. There was nothing there, and the odor disappeared as quickly as it came. He peered back and forth, the street empty except for a few people moving quickly doing chores or work.

“Did you smell it?” he asked Sapphire.

She gave him a confused look before smiling.

“I do and I’m sure it’ll be delicious,” she giggled before rushing forward to the bakery.

He sighed and gave the road one last examination. He knew he smelled it, but there was no evidence of the dead near him. Even if they were inside there was nowhere for them to hide due to the large spacing between the buildings.

He shrugged his shoulders and decided to follow the girl. Bread would be good and the guards would take care of any problems.

He took a step forward and stepped on a branch which cracked. The odor of death hit him again worse than before.

He retched and backed away cursing. He looked down and saw, crawling beneath the snow, the arm of a zombie slowly scuttling toward him.