"HALT!"

"Who do you think you are?"

A big bulky guy who was at least a foot taller and a foot wider than Bob walked up to him.

"Bob."

"Bob?"

"Bob Something. My parents were simpletons."

The guard's expression eased a little.

"Ah."

"State your business here, Bob...Something."

"I came here for the trade district with good intentions."

"Good intentions? GOOD INTENTIONS?! Your tried to break through the city gates!"

"I thought it was a mirage..."

"Ah."

"Well, the entrance fee is 10 bronze coins. If that little bit of coin matters to you, then you won't have enough money to buy sh*t."

Bob dumped out a hundred iron coins from his backpack.

The guard frowned.

"What, do the people here not accept iron?"

"No, they do, but..."

"But what?"

"The amount of iron it would take to pay for some things would drown the streets."

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"Noted. That's why I have a tiny mountain of bronze with me as well."

"Alright, I'll lead you to a bank. You can exchange the iron and bronze there."

"Okay. I never caught your name, though. What is it?"

"Quincey. Yours?"

"I already told you. Bob."

"..."

"What?"

"...I was assuming that that was fake."

"And I already told you, My parents were simpletons."

"I have a feeling that you'll be saying that a lot."

"Ah, well, let's head on to the bank now. We wouldn't want to drown everyone with coins, now would we?"

"Fine, let's go."

* * *

The bank was what Bob always imagined banks should look like; A tall, sleek black skyscraper with the words "BANK" etched near the middle. It seemed weird that there would be metal structures in a city that was in the middle of a desert, but Bob would figure that out later. Quincey lead Bob into the main entrance-- A large set of glass double doors. Bob could understand why there would be a lot of glass here, that with being in the middle of the desert and all that, but glass doors just seemed like overkill.

The bank was bustling with people. Most of one half were gambling with most of the other half. That

"Hey, Quincey."

"Hi, Alec."

"What are you here for?"

"This guy, right here."

Quincey pointed at Bob.

"Alright, You must be new here. My name is Alec, as you might already know. I'll also need your name to register for a bank account, so what is it?"

"Bob."

"Huh. Last name?"

"...Something."

Alec looked to Quincey for an explanation.

The waiting room grew quiet. Even the gamblers stopped gambling. The ones who were losing were relieved, while the ones who were winning were staring at Bob.

Bob spoke up.

"My parents were simpletons."

"Must run in the family."

Someone snickered.

The entire waiting room started laughing at him.

After the laugher died down, Alec said something.

"Alright, as much as I..hehe...enjoy this, I'm going to have to ask you what your actual name is."

"And I already said, my name is Bob Something. My parents were simpletons."

Bob had a weird look in his eyes.

The room erupted into laugher once again.

Bob sighed. He had a feeling that it would be a long day.