I had sworn that "it was on" at the new chef and his stall across from me. I'd done this in my head, and I'm glad I hadn't said anything out loud because they were kicking our ass.

I couldn't believe what was happening. The workers and head cook at the large market stall across from us pulled almost every bit of business away from our location. I tried to stay positive for the next hour, but it was hard to ignore the steady stream of customers flocking to their booth.

They weren't even that vocal. They just knew the right words to say to anyone who passed their stall.

Our new sausage poppers, which I had been so excited about, were being completely ignored and growing cold. I could make a new batch. Maybe the smell would bring in more customers? Unfortunately, we didn't have a chance as the other stall had four workers who shouted at anyone who came near their location to stop and try a sample.

I had Milo stand in front and offer samples on a platter, but people were called away before they could even reach him. The competing stall offered large pieces of their food, luring potential customers away. While their offering looked fancy, it didn't look all that appetizing. Chunks of what looked like dry and overcooked chicken breast swimming in a red glaze. A haunch of the game that had looked tasty before the crispy skin had been stripped. I had to fight my urge to go to the other booth, engage, and ask what made their food so good. Maybe I should buy a plate, wish them luck, and then enjoy their offering. That seemed like the mature thing to do.

But the other stall's chef, when he did look at me, was with a sneer of disdain that kept me from doing the mature thing.

Some of my regular patrons spotted me, waved cheerfully as they headed in my direction, veered off course, and went to the other stall. I put one hand on my hip and scratched my head with the other. I was genuinely baffled by the crowd's reaction.

I frowned and continued to consider going over and confronting the other chef. But the line of patrons at their booth stopped me from approaching. It seemed like an impossible task to get through the crowd. It wasn't fair. They were even hurting the nice honey bun seller beside me, who had been so kind to Grondak.

At one point, the chef leaned over and said something to one of his assistants, who was about the same age as Milo. The kid walked around their stall and approached me. He looked over the sausage poppers and said, "These look so good. I'd like to try one, if that's okay."

"Sure. Just a sample?"

"I'll take one," he said, looked at my little price sign, and handed over five coppers.

"Let me know what you think," I said, hoping he'd take a bite in front of me. He might be working for some high-end wannabe chef's stall, but this event had the atmosphere of a fair. Other vendors were selling cheap and fast food as well, so I wasn't the only one.

He took the sausage popper back to his stall and placed it on the counter. The other cook pulled out a fork, rolled it around on the table, and frowned. He cut into it, pulled a piece away, and tasted it. As he chewed, he looked up, and his lips curled up in another sneer. The man cut the sausage popper into smaller pieces and offered them to the others. They tasted it, put their heads together, and one of them laughed. Soon, they were all laughing and shooting me sideways looks. The chef took a little bit of the remaining treat and tossed it on the ground behind his booth.

"What a dick," I muttered.

I thought about going to his booth, buying a huge plate of food, and dumping it in front of them, but that wouldn't solve anything, and they'd still have my coin.

Realizing I needed a team effort to help draw customers to our booth, I waited for Milo and Jessara to return. When they came back, looking a bit discouraged, I gathered them together.

"Alright, team," I said, trying to sound confident. “We need to work together to attract more customers. Do you have any ideas?"

Jessara and Milo put their heads together and talked quietly while watching the crowd approach The Wandering Boar's stall. Before they could tell me what they had in mind, Jesarra and Milo started to leave.

"Milo!" I called over. "What are you two planning?"

"Mr. V., Trust me. We have a plan. We'll be right back."

"Care to share?"

Milo shook his head, smiled warmly, and raced off with Jessara.

There was no way whatever they had planned was going to work.

Grondak stood awkwardly behind the table, the gold ribbon gleaming around his neck, as Jessara announced his presence to the passing crowd.

"Come meet one of the heroes who saved Everspring!" she called out, her voice carrying over the bustling market. "Meet Grondak and thank him in person!"

“Grondak no fight in bandit battle! Urzan say no fight! Grondak in back line! Only throw spears!”

“You threw spears? Sounds like fighting to me, pal,” I told Grondak.

“Varix is wise! Grondak was in fight!” The young orc straightened up, pushed out his chest, and showed his tusks.

Jessara called out again about Grondak’s role in the fight.

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Mauri, the honey cake seller, was kind enough to leave her stall and walk over. She raised her voice and proclaimed, “Thank you for saving us, Grondak! We thank you.” She turned, picked up one of the sausage poppers, ate it, and exclaimed, “My goodness, this is wonderful!” before wandering off.

Some passing folks took notice, their curiosity piqued by the unusual sight of an orc being celebrated. There were murmurs and looks, but some stopped.

Then, four girls around Jessara's age approached the stall. They were dressed in long, flowing dresses in muted colors, with simple bodices and long sleeves. Their hair was braided or tied back with ribbons, and a couple of them had flowers threaded in.

The girls started yelling and clapping their hands for Grondak, their enthusiasm drawing even more attention to our booth. Intrigued by the commotion, more patrons were pulled away from the stall across from us.

The girls gathered around Grondak, clapping and talking excitedly. He looked overwhelmed by the sudden attention, his eyes wide and his posture stiff. But as the crowd grew, his tusks became more visible.

I took advantage of the moment and began handing out samples of our sausage poppers.

"Try our new sausage poppers!" I called out, holding the tray high. "Freshly made and perfect for a quick snack! Say hi to Grondak, and eat our brand new hand-held treat!"

People reached for the samples, put them into their mouths, and nodded in appreciation. It was almost like gaining a few customers had broken some sort of spell.

As the crowd around Grondak grew, so did the interest in our food. I couldn't keep up with the demand for samples, and soon folks were lined up to purchase full orders of the sausage poppers.

Mauri, the honey bun seller next to me, took the opportunity to promote her wares. "Don't forget to try our delectable honey buns!" she called out, holding a tray of the golden, glazed treats. "They pair perfectly with the sausage poppers!"

Mauri and I worked the crowd, promoting each other's food and encouraging people to try both. It was a team effort, and it was working.

Milo and Jessara helped manage the growing line of customers, taking orders and collecting payments. The girls continued to fawn over Grondak, talking loudly and drawing customers our way.

It wasn't all rosy. More than a few people were not pleased to see an orc in the marketplace. I caught more than a few dark looks and heard more than a few dark words.

I glanced at the competing stall across from us. Their crowd had thinned considerably, with many potential customers now flocking to our booth instead.

Grondak, for his part, seemed to be growing more comfortable with the attention. He stood a little taller, his chest puffed out proudly as people praised him for his role in saving Everspring.

"Thank you for your bravery!" one of Jesarra's friends exclaimed, clasping Grondak's hand in her own.

"Can't say I ever liked orcs before, but I guess you're alright," another man added.

Grondak looked overwhelmed by the gratitude, but he managed a small nod in return. "Orc happy to help!"

As the day wore on, our success continued. We sold out of sausage poppers several times, and I had to keep the improvised fryer pumping out food to meet the demand. Mauri's honey buns were equally popular, and before the afternoon ended, she sold out of her supply.

By the end of the market day, I was exhausted but quite satisfied. We had not only survived the fierce competition, but had thrived. And it was all thanks to Jessara's clever idea and Grondak's willingness to play along.

Her friends insisted on taking the last sausage poppers as their only payment, mentioning they and Jessara had been friends for many years after I tried to pay them.

As we packed up our stall, I pulled Jessara aside. "That was brilliant," I said, grinning at her. "I never would have thought to use Grondak as a marketing tool."

Jessara grinned. "Thanks, Mr. V. It was a team effort. Milo and I weren't sure that would work, but what did we have to lose?"

Milo nodded in agreement.

"Who were the girls you brought? That was a clever touch."

"Friends, and a few friends of friends. They said they'd be happy to help any time, but they will probably want to be paid."

I snorted. Of course they did. Good guerilla marketing wasn't cheap.

"I'll keep that in mind." I nodded at Jessara and looked over at the young orc who was helping Milo load up our supplies.

We finished packing up and headed back to The Shadow's Respite.

We arrived back at the tavern. I was tired, but happy we'd pulled out a win.

"Hey, boss." Lady Churl came out of the kitchen and greeted me as Jessara, Milo, and Grondak went to the kitchen to start work on dinner. We had a few hours left.

I recounted what had happened at Market Day. When I mentioned the snooty chef, Lady Churl offered to pay him a visit. "I could get in all quiet like. Reckon no one would miss 'im."

"Uh. That won't be necessary."

I got a big goblin smile in response. It was always hard to tell when Lady Churl was being serious.

There was a knock at the rear door. I looked up, wondering who it was.

"Probably that elf. Sounds like her knock."

As I walked to the door, I asked Lady Churl, "You can tell who it is from their knock?"

"Can tell a lot from sounds. 'Cept for that scratchin' I hear at night. Under the tavern. Sounds deep."

I paused in place as I opened the door. "The what?"

"Might be rats deep underground."

"Huh," I replied and opened the door.

Seraphina breezed in wearing a rich burgundy tunic that reached mid-thigh, cinched at the waist with a wide, intricately woven leather belt. Over the tunic, she wore a fitted, sleeveless black vest of soft leather. Her long, flowing skirt, which brushed just above her ankles, was a mix of burgundy and black. Her hair was parted to one side, cascading in loose waves down to her shoulders, accented by a hairpin shaped like a crescent moon.

"Wow." I might have closed my mouth. "You look amazing."

"Oh. Thank you." Seraphina glanced down at her clothes. "It was a busy day, but not as busy as last night. I was up late creating an enhanced gem for a new customer. It was a strange request that took some research. It was an allure amethyst."

"Why is that unusual?"

"It's the spell. The glamour doesn't last long. As it works, the spell effects are absorbed until they are gone. I've only ever sold a few, because they are complicated and quite expensive for something that will only last a few hours."

“What does it do?”

Seraphina explained.

I couldn't help but frown. "So it's pretty expensive to make?"

"Very. I assume someone used it on Market Day, which made no sense. The payoff wouldn't have been worth it."

"If they sold everything at their stall, would it pay off?"

"Varix. This is a spell that cost almost a hundred gold."

That son of a bitch. "I know exactly who has that kind of money."