Brunseborough was the southernmost town in Hobart Kingdom. It’s fifteen-foot, rough stone and mortar walls encompassed nearly twenty square miles, divided into five sections.

The poorest residents lived off of the dark brown roads to the northeast. Most of the houses in this area, sometimes called “the Slums,” were made by hardening mud over a thatched reed frame. The brown igloos looking as cheap as their construction, and a nine-inch lower grade than the rest of the town that turned almost two square miles of “the East Side” into a shallow pond when it rained, made it clear where it got the most accepted of its three nicknames, “the Mud Puddle.”

In the northwestern part of town, aristocrats spent piles of gold to build their mansions. With its paved roads, spacious lots, and good public order, one of its taxpayers considered “Upton” to be “an island of civilization floating in a sea of savagery, made possible by its many well trained occupants vigilantly keeping undesirable degenerates from loitering.”

One Mud Puddle dweller referred to Upton as “the spread of insufferable snobbery planting its pompous flag on the farthest reaches of civilization.”

North First Street was the northernmost portion of the main road that split the town in half hemispherically. With the poverty stricken Slums to the east and Upton to the west, N First became a symbol of disparity.

“The mud is so cold. Something precious I had sold. My stomach is empty. Across the street there is plenty. I rejoice, for soon I will fill my stomach and warm my toes, but the price is steep to cross the street. No more frozen mud beneath my feet, but the price is steep to cross the street. N First is wide, for a road. To cross it, one must be bold. Something precious I no longer own, but I can still use it, as a loan. Tomorrow, I won’t be so cold. To cross N First Street, myself I had sold,” the aforementioned Mud Puddle dweller once wrote.

N First became First Street at “the Brunse District.” The ten-foot walls encircled three square miles of fancy shops, stores, government facilities, and noblemen’s manors. It’s southern gate was just north of Main Street, the main road that split the town in half longitudinally. That left the whole southern half of Brunseborough to be divided between its two remaining districts.

To the southeast, the majority of Bruseborough’s shops could be found. The five-square mile, quarter pie wedge zoned for crafting and agriculture, was referred to by its formal name, “the Crafting District,” or by its informal one, “the Sweat Shop.” Tradesmen such as carpenters, blacksmiths, ranchers, tanners, etc. ran their shops there.

The last quarter of Brunseborough, “the Aventure District” to the southwest, is where the Adventure Guild and no small number of businesses that pander to adventures were located. Though it was named the Adventure District, four out of five square miles of it was zoned for middle income residential neighborhoods. Some people called it “the Pit” while others called it home.

“Am I getting wrinkles?” Samantha Higgins wondered as she studied her face in a small, gold plated hand mirror, “Maybe I have too many freckles.”

Samantha had never really thought of herself as an insecure person, but lately she had been feeling impatient, or maybe she was anxious. She was feeling something out of the ordinary, but what it was, she was having a difficult time discerning. Perhaps the word she was looking for was restless, or eager. Yes, eager sounded like the right word to describe how she felt.

At least she hoped it was eagerness, but she couldn't help but worry that it might be resentment bubbling inside her. She sincerely did not want that to be the case. After all, she loved her life. She shared a nice house with her handsome boyfriend, for whom she was deeply in love with, which had a lot to due with why she'd been so anxious lately, or was it eager?

“I hope I'm not being impatient,” she thought.

Whatever she was feeling had been growing inside of her for nearly two months now. Ever since she witnessed the blessings of her two closest friends newborn children, she had this nagging feeling that this lovely life she had wasn't enough. She wanted more. “Am I an ungrateful woman?” she worried, causing her eyebrows to crease, which caused her to worry about her wrinkles.

Frustrated, that word fit her mood well. For a couple of months now she’d been feeling frustrated. She knew why she was feeling like this. Jim and her had been together for almost five years now and he had not once mentioned marriage or kids. “Maybe he doesn't want his kids to have freckles,” she speculated, “but Jim always says my freckles are cute though, so that’s not it.” She was sure of that, because if there's one thing she knew about her beloved, it’s that Jim was an honest man. If there was something else she knew about him, it would be that he's strong, very handsome, charming, diligent, considerate and... “Crap, I’m doing it again,” she thought as she stared her non-existent wrinkles, “Maybe he really is too good for me,” and there it was again, that terrifying, sinking feeling she got in the pit of her stomach from thinking that way.

“That’s not the case. That is not the case,” she told herself. A life without Jim was something she didn't think she could fathom. She only knew that trying to imagine it hurt far too much to be considered a reasonable thing to do. She should be happy with the life she had, the life Jim provided for her.

When she was little, sometimes her village would be attacked by monster. It could happen at anytime, and often someone would die, but now she lived a safe town with sturdy walls. It was security that some of the girls from her childhood would never be able to afford, but could have killed for.

Her home was a nice house in a great location, right on S First, not even a fifteen minute walk from Old Town's fancy gates.

Her boyfriend owned and operated “Jim’s General Goods” attached to the house, so her financially secure lover was always near. He wasn’t rich by any means, and most of the revenue the store generated went towards paying debt, but he’s always been, but because he deals with so many traders, he’s able to acquire nice things for cheap prices sometimes. Things that should be far too expensive for someone with an upbringing like her’s to ever have, and not just the glamorous golden mirror she was using either. Jim would often ask her option about goods, and buy what she liked the for the store, except he would let her use the best goods before he sold them, and he would never sell anything until he was sure she was no longer using it, so everything she had was really nice, her hairbrush, her clothing, the cookware. Even the consumables like meats, cheeses, seasonings, soaps and perfumes she used had to be from the premium stock, that she had hand selected. It was a perk some of her old friends would definitely have killed for.

“I should be careful what I say if I ever see them again,” she thought.

Samantha had a wonderful life, and Jim loved her. That's what she should keep in mind. She knew both of these things to be true. Her life, which often felt like a fairytale with Jim, was obviously wonderful, and she knew that Jim loved her because he’s said so many times. “But do I really know what he means by that?” she wondered. Was it the kind of love a brother bore for his sister or like how two close friends inevitably have love for each other? She hoped it was the same kind of burning passion she felt for him, but how could she be sure? When it came to tricking her, Jim knew how to do it. When it came to keeping secrets, Jim and his circle of friends were the most tight lipped people that she'd ever met.

The sinking feeling in Samantha's stomach returned. This time it came with a strong feeling of guilt. Sure, Jim could be somewhat crafty at times, but every time he's tricked her, it put a smile on her face, like when she received this mirror for instance. Jim took her to the market to get a woman's opinion on items he should stock in the store. He asked her to pick out the one item she thought a girl would like the most out of the available inventory. One month later he gifted that golden mirror to her for their one year anniversary. She thought it was to be a display item. Maybe she should have known better, but Jim had her completely fooled, and the whole time, he told her nothing but the truth.

Jim could trick her, but he’s never lied to her nor treated her poorly, and there she was gazing into her beautiful mirror while directing suspicion toward the man who gave it to her. The man who was the most honest, caring, very handsome, strong, and... “Crap, I'm doing it again,” she thought, “What if Jim really is too good for me?” and there was again, that nauseating feeling that kept coming back and kept getting worse every time it came. Maybe growing old with Jim just wasn't in her cards. Jim does care for her. She knew that was true for sure, but maybe Jim only keeps her around out of some sense of obligation.

When Samantha met Jim, he was an adventurer, and she was a panicked foreign girl. Their first encounter occurred at the Adventure Guild when she was soliciting adventurers to search for her missing parents. They were serfs who decided to abandon their simple farming life in the hope for a better future on the frontier. They moved to Brunseborough, became adventurers, and one day, as is often the case with novice adventurers, they failed to return from a quest.

Fourteen year old Samantha had been in town for less than a month when it happened and didn't have anyone she could turn to for help. She didn’t even have a single copper to her name when everything she held dear went missing. She became distraught and did the only thing she could think to do, beg random adventures to help her search for her missing parents.

“Please, my parents went missing. They’re copper. Will you help me search for them?” Samantha pleaded to an adventure with yellowish black teeth and a dirty beard. Had she not been in such a desperate state, she would never have spoken with someone who looked as rough as this man.

“Calm down. What’s yur name sweetheart? How longs them runts gone missin’ fur?” he asked, his rotten teeth showing through his lecherous grin.

“I’m Samantha. They were supposed to return two days ago. I can’t pay you right now but if you help me search for my parents, I swear I’ll pay you back.”

“Name’s Kevin, but you can call me Daddy, and if ya can’t pay, then ya can’t hire a party, now can ya?”

“I know, but me and my family just moved to town. We have no gold, and now they went missing. Please, please help me find my parents.”

“So what? Yur parents are gone, it’s not the end of the world. I killed my folks when I was around yur age. Better off without’em I say. Ha ha ha,” the grungy adventure let it an odd, hard laugh.

Samantha was beginning to doubt his sanity, but she was desperate. “I love my parents, and I’ll be homeless without them. If you help me find them, I swear I’ll pay you back,” she begged, tears of desperation welling in her hazel eyes.

“Sorry beautiful, gold up front, that goes double fur a homeless brat like you, but if yur looking for a place to stay, I got a two room hut on the East Side. I’ll even feed you.”

“No, I need someone to help me find my parents, not a place to stay,” she said, and attempted to walk away.

“Not so fast there.” Kevin grabbed her arm. “I’ll search fur ya folks.”

“Really!” Samantha’s eyes lit up.

“Really. I’ll even fork the gold the rest of my party deserves for takin’ yur quest.”

“Thank the gods, and I swear I’ll return every copper.”

“Payment is still up front. Name yur price sugar.”

“Excuse me?”

“You, I’ll buy ya. What’s yur price?”

“Uhm, I’m not for sale.” By now she was sure talking to this disgusting man was a mistake, and tried to leave again.

Kevin tightened his coarse, dirty hand’s grip around her wrist. His fist was tight, painfully tight. “You can pay me by taking three or four goblin squirts a week. Once ya get used to it, it’s very soothing, and ain’t no one else gonna help a skinny brat like you find your dumb fucking parents. What do you say baby?” he asked, pulling her close enough to make he choke on his putrid breath.

Samantha didn’t know at the time what a goblin squirt was, but she knew that she absolutely did not want to take it from this creep. She was about to scream for help when an onlooker’s fist smashed into the pervert’s hideous face.

Jim, a complete stranger at the time, overheard the whole thing, and knocked three of the lechure’s teeth out on her behalf. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” he asked. He was so handsome in that moment. Well, he’s always handsome, but in that moment, he was her savior. That was when she fell in love with him.

Jim and the Rascals, without any compensation, took her quest. Jim also arranged for her to stay with their manager while they searched. She shuddered her to think about what might’ve happened to her if Jim hadn't been there that day.

The Rascals spent three weeks searching for her parents, and ultimately found their remains in a goblin hole. “Jim wasn’t able to save my parents, but he was able to save me,” Samantha thought as she touched the only remaining keep sake she had of her family, her mother’s locket, that Jim had returned to her.

Could it be that this whole time she’d been taking advantage of Jim’s kindness while only being a burden herself?

She didn’t think she was just a burden, because Jim had said otherwise, so why was it that Jim didn’t want to marry her?

She didn’t know why her relationship, which seemed so perfect, wouldn’t move forward, so she kept pondering on it. “Maybe he does love me but isn’t in love with me enough to want to get married,” she speculated, “In that case, when he says it’s comforting having me around, he really means it, but what does that make me?”

“Convenient,” she figured. She had fallen completely in love with him the moment they met and would do anything for him. Did that make her his easy woman? As she considered this possibility, she became more and more concerned about her wrinkles again.

Her thoughts were disorderly. She needed advice, and with a loud “fuck!” she heard just the right person fumbling about in the kitchen. Jim’s younger brother, James Davis, the third occupant of Jim’s General Store, scalded his hand on a hot pot.

“James, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I just burned my hand on breakfast is all.”

“It’s almost dinnertime you know.”

“When I wake up, I eat breakfast. It’s as simple as that.”

“You could always get up at a reasonable hour and eat with Jim and I.”

“Not you too Samantha. What hours I keep is my business.”

“I make omelets in the morning. I was just offering to make you one if you’re ever up at that time is all.”

“Ah, that’s what you meant,” James said as he sat down to a hot bowl of stew, “Thank you, but unless you’re omelettes cure Jim’s insufferable behavior, I’m going to have to pass on having breakfast with him.”

“Then how about I make an extra one, and keep it in the coldbox for when you want it. A cold omelette for breakfast is still better than last night’s stew.”

“Well sure, but why are you trying so hard to feed me an omelette?” James asked.

“Because I want you to owe me a favor,” Samantha replied innocently as she sat across the table from him.

James set his spoon down with a deadpan expression, and bluntly stated, “Nope. I don’t make open ended arrangements. If you want to pedal your omelettes, it’s going to have to be for something more specific than a favor.”

Samantha, entertained by her hopefully, future brother in law's predictable response, said “I want your thoughts on something.”

“I don’t know if they’ll be of any use, but either way I still get the omelette, right?”

Despite the fact he came off as a degenerate nearly every chance he got, James was far more intelligent than he let on, and often gave surprisingly thoughtful advice. An omelette was a fair price.

“Either way you still get the omelette,” she said.

“All right deal. What’s this matter you’re so worked up about?” James asked, scooping a spoonful of stew.

Samantha pressed her index finger to her pursed lips for a thoughtful moment. “Hmm… Do you think I’m an easy woman?” she asked, causing James to spew his spoonful of stew back into his bowl.

“Ahh, hot,” he said, attempting to play down his surprise from hearing his cute future sister in law’s uncharacteristically vulgar speech. He wasn’t fooling anyone. “Where did you hear a vulgar term like that anyway?”

“Oh, us girls talk about a lot of stuff.”

“Scary.”

“More than you know.”

James, still trying to play down his embarrassment, casually ate another spoonful of stew and said, “No, I don’t think you’re an easy woman. Why do you ask?”

“Will you agreed to keep this talk private?”

“I can, but it’ll cost you.”

“How much?”

“Three, no four, more omelettes.”

“That’s extortion!” she exclaimed with fake indignation.

“It is, and if you want me to keep your secrets, that’s my price.” James was resolute.

Samantha knew he was good to his word, and considering her predicament, four more omelettes for his silence was acceptable. “Deal,” she said with a sprite nod.

“So?”

“I don’t know why Jim doesn’t want to marry me but keeps taking care of me. So I was thinking that, maybe I’m just his easy woman.”

James involuntarily snorted a chuckle at how preposterous that sounded. He kept his stew in his mouth this time, but barely.

“Hey! It’s not funny. I’m really troubled by this.”

James took a moment to gather his composure and realize what it was that she was really asking. “Why hasn’t your brother asked me to marry him yet?” was the real question. Unfortunately, even though he knew the answer, it was not his place to speak for his older brother on matters like that. Still, he was getting paid, so he was obligated to clear up her misunderstanding the best he could.

“First of all, there’s no way your his easy woman. For that to be true, you’d have to disregard all the effort Jim puts into your guys’ relationship, so that part is provably false.”

Samantha thought about it, and conceded to his reasoning. Jim was always so thoughtful, there’s no way it could be easy for him.

“And I can’t speak for Jim as to why he hasn’t pop the question yet, but I do know two things to be true. One,” he said, holding up his index finger, “Jim is madly in love with you. Two, my brother’s more dense than lead about some things.”

As she thought about his words, a smile formed her face, not because they were the words she wanted to hear, but because James was the one saying them, so they were very likely true. At least James thought they were, and James knew his older brother for his entire life, so if anyone knew whether or not Jim was “madly in love“ with her, it was him.

“So you think he wants to marry me but doesn’t know how to ask?”

“Again, I can’t speak for Jim, but if it’s advice you’re looking for, then I recommend giving him a little nudge in the right direction.”

“And how should I go about doing that?”

“I can talk to him for you, if you’d like.”

“Absolutely not! Not a word of any of this to Jim.”

James rolled his eyes. “Fine, not a word.”

“So, how should I do it?” Samantha asked eagerly. Since he had agreed to receive payment, he would definitely give her a good deal, and that he did. By the time James had finished his stew, Samantha’s head was spinning from all the tips and suggestions he’d given her. She was blown away by how insightful his advice was. It’s probably because his genes were the same as Jim’s, and Jim was very smart, and handsome, charming, kind, and… “Oh, I’m doing it again. I can’t wait to kiss him,” she thought. The restlessness she had been feeling was definitely eager anticipation now.

“Those were five omelettes well spent,” she thought.