Ken gathered his dark hair in a bunch above his head and looped a piece of leather cord around it. It was starting to get frizzy, and he was annoyed. He looked into the sky until he located the source of his frustration, a large, gray mass to the east that covered the heavens.

"God I hate the rain," he lied. He didn't hate the rain, only the humid kind since it frizzed up his hair. "I hope it waits until after I'm back in town to start."

He wasn't afraid to start talking to himself since he was far away from any living creature. In fact, he couldn't even see a plant anywhere near him. He trudged along a rocky trail some few miles to the northeast of Clarenburgh. It was ever so slightly sloped upwards, just enough to make Ken's calves feel like they were on fire. His shoes having no support didn't help either, and his feet hurt like they never had before. Gravel crunched under his feet and sweat dripped into his eyes. He was in hell.

Ken had a different look from his usual attire. His windbreaker was tied around his waist, exposing the company-branded polo shirt he wore to work back on Earth. His leather bag was slung over his shoulder as usual, and he also had a cognac leather sheath hanging from his belt. It hung about ten centimeters down his right thigh, and sitting in it was a knife a centimeter shorter than the sheath. It was loaned to him by Kamisho.

Ken walked up the trail, straining his calves more and more. He decided that it was time to take a break, and he sat on a boulder that looked appealing to his sore legs. He loosened the drawstrings on his leather bag and retrieved a cheap wineskin, which he had bought at the market, from its depths. He took a large gulp, but not too much, and paid no attention to the beads of water dripping off his chin.

"Pwaaah!" He gasped in satisfaction after he swallowed. He then fastened the lid back onto the wineskin and dropped it back into his bag. He closed his eyes and tried to rest and let his calves cool down. After a few dozen seconds, he found that his hand had found its way to the sheath of his knife. He was subconsciously popping the metal snap on and off. Once he was aware of this he stopped and pulled the knife out to study it.

It was weighty in his hand, but not heavy. The blade had a clip point, but much more modest than a Bowie knife's. The finish was coated in scratches, and the edge was worn down and nicked, but it was razor sharp. It had never seen battle or blood, only rope and wood. The blade reached all the way down to the bottom of the handle, which was fashioned from a type of red wood, and it had a metal pommel at the bottom to catch his fingers if they ever slid down too far.

Ken ran the pads of his fingers along the edge, testing its sharpness, and thought back to what Kamisho said when she gave it to him.

"Since this job is directly related to monsters, the Guild is obligated to supply you with a weapon." She sighed. "What we're gonna do, is lend you a weapon until you finish this job. After the job, you can pay for the weapon in full. Deal?" She looked at Ken, and her gray ears followed, waiting for a response.

"Sounds good to me. What if I don't complete the job? Can return the weapon?" Ken asked. He was always on his toes when it came to debts.

Kamisho inhaled greatly.

"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that," she said as she exhaled.

"Have you noticed that you sigh a lot?" Ken had asked innocently. She got annoyed at him for pointing it out and rushed him out of the guild with the only weapon they had that his mine job could ever hope to pay for.

Ken slid the knife back into the sheath at his hip, threw his bag on his shoulder, and started walking again. His hand had gotten oily from handling the blade, so he wiped off the oil on his jeans.

After another hour of walking, Ken came across a sign with two words.

"'Copper mine,' huh? How simple. Guess I'm about there."

After he walked another minute, the top of a cliff face came into view. He assumed the mine was at the bottom of it, and he turned ninety degrees to his left and started walking directly away from the path. He'd be much safer if he didn't come into view exactly where the goblins expected him to, on the trail, and after he was a good distance away, he started to continue on at an angle towards the top of the hill.

Ken was ten feet from the top of the hill when he put on his windbreaker, got on his hands and knees, and started crawling up the hill. He crept up under the shadow of one of the many boulders at the crest of the hill, and the base of the cliff finally came into sight. His eyes leaped to a shifting form off to his right. The sun was over the cliff, so the land around the base was drenched in shadow, and everything else around was so bright that Ken's eyes couldn't adjust right away. The form was moving wildly, and Ken strained his eyes trying to make it out.

He started to hear it before ever fully seeing it. The screams of a boy. Ken was taken aback with surprise, but they had only just begun. The boy screamed even more. Ken had never heard anything like it, so filled with pain, yet gaining determination at the height of their volume. Ken's eyes dilated from the stress, and consequently, he could see what was going on in the shadows.

The boy was standing his ground. He held his sword out in front of him with both hands, even though chunks of his abdomen and forearms were essentially missing, and it seemed like all of his exposed skin was coated in scratches. He stared down three unharmed gray goblins with short arming swords. Two more, of slightly darker color and larger stature, stood with spears by one of the many cave entrances that dotted the cliff face.

All five of the creatures were laughing with glee.