Myrna hopped down to the front of the wagon. "Follow this street for half a mile until we get to a statue of silly human riding a wolf. Look for two buildings with green roofs and go down the alley between them. Then take third left turn after first right turn. Find the big building that looks like a circus tent. Myrna needs to go there." Ozzy nodded, not worrying about directions. He was sure she'd repeat them a half dozen times on the way. Traveling through the city with Myrna was like traveling with a dozen small children who needed frequent stops. She would screech and jump up and down every few blocks, pointing at something that caught her interest. First, it was a candy shop selling sticks of flavored hard candy. Next, she went to a spice store where she bought out the stock of three spices and ignored the rest. Each time they started moving again, she gave Ozzy directions contradicting the last set. The second to last stop was a huge store selling pots, frying pans, wooden spoons, and anything else someone could think of to put in a kitchen.

"Hold up, Fat Fingers. Myrna spies shiny copper spice tins and enchanted skillets." She raced into the store with a bucket of coins. Ozzy's eye was caught by a large apron, probably made for an ogre, that said, 'I ate the chef, and all I got was heart-burn and put to work.' He put the wagon on the side of the street next to the shop window where he could watch it and went inside to buy the apron. He realized his error as soon as he walked in the door; The shop had everything, and suddenly he wanted a lot of it. He was drooling over an enchanted spice rack when an elderly saleswoman approached him, her cane making a distinct sound as it tapped on the floor with each step.

"You like that? Of course, you do. Each of those small shakers holds one hundred pounds of dried spices and keeps them fresh. You load them up with a special funnel that comes with it. Imagine having industrial-sized spice shakers on your wagon and never running out in the middle of a large picnic. And if thirty-six spices aren't enough, you can always add another rack."

Ozzy found himself in agreement with her. And it was reasonably priced at only 500 gold. "I'd need it filled too. I have a big cooking event coming up..."

She nodded and patted him on the shoulder. "We have the best spices in the city. Call it an even thousand to fill those with our best smoke and barbeque selection."

Ozzy gave his consent, and the money vanished from his bank account. "I've got a friend with an enchanted sauce bucket that never runs out. I don't suppose you have one of those?"

"You have to bring that friend by; I'd love to see the rune work on it. Those pots are legendary, and I've never seen one. But... I have just what you might like! It uses runes similar to Mistress Molly's Industrial Strength Spice Rack. She also has a line of items equally useful. She wasted a century making backpacks and bags for dungeon delving before she turned her clever mind to kitchen wares and found her true calling. How does Mistress Molly's Extended Capacity Sauce Bucket sound to you? It holds fifty gallons. Or if that isn't enough, we have Mistress Molly's Hefty Capacity Medium-sized Barrel of Holding. It holds 250 gallons. And for big boys like you, there's even a version that holds a thousand gallons. Molly's Magical Tub of Hefty Holding. It's a little heavy. Like all Hefty enchantments, it focuses on capacity, not weight reduction. Ideal, though, for discouraging thieves."

Ozzy looked at the well-made items, having a hard time deciding on which would work the best. And the thought of having an inexhaustible barrel of sauce next to his barbeque pit at the Great Hunt was tempting. The old woman sensed his hesitation and offered her advice. "I know what you're thinking: But how can I know what to get when I use so many different sauces? Might I suggest getting one of each and making the decision easy?" That seemed reasonable, and more items were added to his pile. At some point during the shopping spree, he had yawned, his ears had popped, and he'd looked down at the pile of things on the counter; when had it grown so big?

He looked around the store. There was actually a lot more cool stuff in here...he shook his head to clear it. The old woman helping him laughed. "Are they talking to you? You look a little glassy-eyed."

"Talking to me?"

She motioned for him to bend down and whispered in his ear. "Not everyone hears them; they won't call out to anyone that isn't going to use them. You and Miss Myrna are professional chefs; they can tell. Well-crafted enchanted pots and pans want to be used and call out to the right people. It's a mild enchantment, but they must sense something in you. Here, let me see if I can calm them down so you can bargain in good faith." She cast a small cantrip, and the pressure on Ozzy eased. He looked at the huge pile again.

"Damn, I still want all of it. This is great quality cookware. I need some of it, and Suzy and Betty need a lot of upgrades for the kitchen. I'll still take it all."

That brought a smile to everyone's face. The old woman directed her staff to start wrapping things up for the trip home. "In that case, you deserve a 10% discount and a free Copper Teapot. It's dwarven, made from Deep Copper, and will never burn through even if you leave it on the heat for a few days." Two hours later, they finally got on the road again after Ozzy had purchased half a wagon-load of cooking gear and had paid more for it than the warehouse had cost. Myrna had also spent a lot of her money and was glowing with happiness over her enchanted copper pots, cooking tools, wickedly sharp chef's knives, and a Volcanic Steel Portable Griddle. The entire staff of the shop waved as they drove away.

Their last stop was around the corner and down a long alley to a dilapidated warehouse with a huge circus tent for a roof. Habersham Hairtoe's Emporium of Tents was a colorful place. Banners, flags, awnings, and fancy kits hung from the walls while the center was filled with colorful tents of enchanted cloth. As Myrna came in, a halfling with a bald head and fuzzy feet hurried over. "Miss Myrna. Back so soon? What can Habersham's Emporium do for you today?"

"Myrna needs a replacement tent and awning like she already has, just in case. And Myrna is wondering about a larger tent—something for family gatherings. Myrna has a lot of family coming to visit the Fae Market in the spring. Much cooking and competition among family."

He wrote everything on a small notepad and called for his assistants. Ozzy started walking around the warehouse, looking at everything, eyed by several salespeople. He brushed off the first few, saying, "Just looking. I'm Myrna's assistant." What caught his eye was the drooping assortment of red and gold cloth held up by several ropes. He looked at it from several angles and then called one of the salesmen over.

"I'm just curious about what this is. Is that an inflatable dragon?"

The two halflings who had run over bowed. "You have a good eye, sir. One of our finest creations is Habersham's Inflatable and Reusable Draconic Balloon. Totally fireproof and easily inflatable with hot air. Think of how that would look hovering over your place of business!"

Ozzy saw several places where something had cut the cloth, which had been stitched back together. The long parallel slashes resembled claw marks. "How real does it look?"

"Oh, very real, sir! It looks amazing. Peasants tremble, and knights soil their armor as it twists in the air like a real dragon!"

"And good enough to fool a real dragon, correct?"

The halflings looked embarrassed. "Well, yes. Amazing that you came to that conclusion. It was designed and constructed for Baron Willcox, who uses heraldry that features a dragon in those colors. He was holding a large festival to celebrate his third marriage. Legends say that the fire drakes in the mountains around his castle still lived in deep caves. To everyone's surprise, the Legends were true; unfortunately, some had woken up for the mating season. One of the young females saw the balloon and took it for a rival. She attacked, her claws raking deep into the balloon, deflating it. Unfortunately, she became tangled in the lines and dropped to the ground with the balloon all around her. Her two males quit arguing and came to her rescue. The wedding reception wasn't prepared to defend against three dragons, even young ones. Baron Willcox was killed, but his new bride survived. As luck would have it, she was already four months pregnant and now rules the Barony until her son reaches the age of 30. For some reason, she returned the broken balloon to us."

"I can see you're interested! We can make you a fabulous deal on this one-of-a-kind item?"

Ozzy looked down at the two salesmen for a full minute, then at the balloon. "Do I look like someone who wants dragons at a wedding? That thing's just a disaster waiting to happen."

Myrna had just finished up with the older Habersham and came running over to Ozzy, excited. "Dragon! Look at it! It's beautiful." She jumped up and down at it, pointing.

Ozzy held up his hands. "Whoa, Whoa! If you want it, you can buy it, but keep me out of it, and don't inflate it around Sedgewick! That's all we need is to find out we have oversized, horny lizards living nearby."

The little kobold scowled and pouted. "Myrna is out of money. But she thinks that is a good idea. Put up at Fae Market, sell to Fae Lords who buy anything rare and stupid." The salesmen suddenly had hope on their faces.

"Seeing as Miss Myrna is such a good customer, Sir, we can let you have the balloon for only 500 gold pieces."

Ozzy considered. "That is a very fair price. Ok, pack it up, and I'll take it. Anything to make Miss Myrna happy."

A dozen small workers appeared, rolled up the dragon, and put it into Ozzy's wagon. He paid them 500 gold and turned to go. The two younger salesmen grinned at each other and shared a high five, then took hold of their suspenders, puffed out their chests, and turned to Ozzy. "And, of course, you will want the patented Habersham Inflation Burner. We have a slightly used one that we can let go for the low cost of only 5000 gold pieces."

Ozzy had seen the odd contraption sitting against the wall and guessed its use. "Actually, I think I'll pass on that fair offer. What would I need that for?"

The two salesmen looked at each other and tried to explain. "You need it to inflate the balloon, of course! The balloon doesn't work without a lot of heated air. Exactly what our fine device is made to do! How about 4500? Special price for a special customer!"

The Butcher shook their hands. "Nice try, boys. Don't need it." Ozzy burped, and a ball of superheated air rose, inflating the tent that served as a roof. Two ropes snapped, and a dozen halflings ran to secure the top before it floated away.

Deep sighs came from the two salesmen. "2000? It's a one-of-a-kind heater that runs on anything that burns!"

"Nope."

"Compact and easy to use! 1500?!"

"Nope."

"It's made of Enchanted Volcanic Steel and encrusted with Elven Fire Runes! Where would you find another? How about 1000, and we'll toss in the instruction manual?"

"Nope."

"Last offer before we are forced to go lower! 500 gold pieces!? We'll have to lie and say you paid more or hide our faces in shame forever."

Ozzy looked over at the compact enchanted heating system. "Well, I'd hate to bring dishonor on your whole clan. I'll give you 100 gold and ten pounds of my enchanted bacon for the thing. I'll also wrangle you a special invitation to the next Fae Market we hold in Sedgewick, an event that is notoriously hard to find, let alone attend as a vendor."

They argued until Ozzy brought the last of his bacon from the wagon and opened the cask. The older Habersham yelled, "It's a deal, but dear gods, close that lid! They'll go into a feeding frenzy!" Ozzy slammed the lid down, put the bacon and the money in front of him, shook hands, picked up the one-of-a-kind heater, and walked back to his wagon.

"Can we go home now, Myrna? We're out of money and out of space in the wagon, and I need a nap." Myrna was already snoring in the back. Ozzy pulled the wagon back to the teleport stone, wheels spinning in his head. Retracing his path, he passed by the cul-de-sac where his new partially burnt warehouse sat next to the Butcher's Guildhall. He saw two city guards and a Legion Centurion talking to Guild Master Abelard and a shouting Stavros with several other people standing around watching.

"Damn, I am never getting that nap." He hauled his wagon in that direction.

Stavros saw him coming and pointed at him. "That's him. He's the one that stole my property while I was distressed with the wounds inflicted on me by his henchman."

Centurion Gaius looked at Ozzy. "This man? This is who you are accusing of theft and assault?"

Stavros looked vindicated and pointed at Ozzy again. "Damned right. I want him arrested and dealt with to the full extent of the law."

Ozzy was getting very tired of some people. "You stole my wagon, with a sleeping woman in back, kidnapping her. She says you kicked her and tried to grab her bucket of coins. Guess what, asshole? You kick a kobold, and you get a face full of fire. You're lucky you're alive, and if you wake her up, you won't be. Kobolds hold a grudge worse than dwarves."

"You aren't licensed to sell in this town or own property! We confiscated your illegal wagon and ill-gotten gains and were in the process of notifying the authorities when you attacked me!"

Gaius sighed. He'd also had a long night. Now he knew why he'd been sent out to settle what seemed like a routine matter. "Sir, I will testify to the matter that this Butcher has a special dispensation to sell his wares within the city of Wolfsburg. Furthermore, most of his sales were to the Legion and soldiers of the Red Banner. I think we are smart enough to know who we can trust and who we can't. But, interestingly, you admit to taking his wagon. Are there witnesses to this?"

Many hands went up, and heads nodded. Abelard turned to Stavros. "I warned you. Twice. And I told you not to be an idiot—more than twice. You are shaming myself and the guild by claiming fraud. I witnessed the sale myself and verified the money was delivered. And I ensured he and his guild were paid up on back dues before the transaction occurred. Everything was done properly."

Stavros was turning red in the face. "I want my building back! This man robbed me."

Ozzy looked at him, now past any point of patience. "Last chance. As our Guild Master says, don't be an idiot."

The angry man stamped his foot. "Like hell. I'll see that building torn down stone by stone before I see an outsider bluster his way into the Guild and steal it from me. I have friends in high places! I have a lawyer! You'll be hearing from him!"

The Butcher of Sedgewick took a deep breath. "Centurion Gaius, I wish to swear out a complaint. This man, Stavros, stole my wagon and my goods, kidnapped an exhausted kobold by the name of Myrna, attempted to steal her coins she had fairly earned the night before and assaulted her. The resulting fire was his fault, as anyone who knows anything about kobolds can attest. When he came running out of his warehouse on fire, I saved his life twice over, once by putting out the fire and second by not letting Myrna kill him. I purchased his building fairly, paying the price he asked.

I accuse him of theft, assault, kobold-napping, slander, fraud, and bearing false witness against a fellow butcher. I would like to see him punished to the full extent of the law."

At a nod from Gaius, the two guards took Stavros by the arms. "I understand and apologize that you had to put up with this man. We'll take care of it from here. The Emperor is quite fond of Myrna. He had several nice things to say about her food. Captain Darmon did as well, but he was comparing it to dwarven cling fire." He turned to Stavros and shook his head. He then whispered something in his ear. Stavros turned white and became very quiet. The guards took him away.

Gaius shook hands with Ozzy and Abelard. "Nice talking with you, citizens. I need to get going. Let me know when you open for business, Ozzy; I'll come by and make sure all your paperwork is taken care of. Just so there are no more problems here." He departed, hoping to get to sleep sometime this week.

Abelard turned to Ozzy. "You were serving the Emperor last night?"

The Butcher nodded. "Yep, he's a big sausage eater; the hotter, the better. Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm going to get out of here before something else happens."

He turned, pulled his wagon around, and headed toward home. When he passed a certain nameless tavern, Doris came to the door with an apple pie and a large bag of coffee. "You make sure to come back. You only tried a couple of my pies. I have a lot more flavors." Ozzy smiled on the way home. Pie and coffee made everything better.