Darren wasn’t shocked to see these two adventurers for the second time in as many days. The man who claimed to be their mentor, Olivander, seemed like the type who would get into trouble often, so it only made sense that his students would share those habits.

The market square bustled about them, largely ignoring the scene. All the lettuce had been cleaned up, but there was still one matter to settle.

“—and then that dog just started eating more of my lettuce!” Burt, the stall owner, said.

“They were already on the ground, you weren’t going to sell them!” the tall human adventurer, Gregory, said.

“You don’t get to put words into my mouth, rich boy!”

“Come on now, Burt. Let’s keep things civil,” Darren said. He had just been arriving back in town when he was called to the scene by Burt’s wife, Marge. Whenever Burt called it was usually pointless, but rarely boring, so Darren was happy to respond to the request for assistance. “From everything I’ve heard, these two just had an accident, and then they offered to help you clean up and pay for damages. I really don’t see any crimes here. Not if they’re willing to pay.”

“It’s about oppression! Constable Darren, do you really just want these two hooligans free to do whatever it is they want? They need to be taught a lesson!”

Darren eyed the two in question. Gregory looked more annoyed than remorseful, a feeling he often saw in people around Burt. His partner, Cooper, was harder to read. Darren didn’t get a lot of dog criminals waiting around for questioning. He decided they would benefit from having the consequences of their actions actually result in some sort of punishment. It wouldn’t do to just teach them that as long as they have money, they can get away with anything.

“I’m inclined to agree with you, Burt.”

“What? Why?” Gregory asked.

“You’ve technically broken some market and city disorderly conduct rules. We don’t have any loopholes for intelligent dogs I’m afraid. I’m not going to arrest you or anything though. I was thinking about community service. Burt, do you have anything you need done that would be appropriate for this minor infraction? If both parties are willing, we can make the small service recompense for the offenses and call it a day.”

Burt rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“I do, actually. There’s a fancy dinner party in one of those big rich houses by the lake the day after tomorrow. Me and Marge were meant to cook and cater the thing, but these two could serve instead of us. I hate being around those rich folk. Would be nice if they could cook too, but I wouldn’t put a dog in the kitchen, and this boy doesn’t look the type.”

“I recall your party leader being very interested in food. Could he cook?” Darren asked Gregory.

“Olivander? I have no idea actually.”

A portal opened right next to them, and Olivander stepped through.

“I feel like you were just talking about me. Darren! Good to see you again. We should really finish our discussion sometime. I cannot possibly leave you so bereft of knowledge about hosting a proper gathering.”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d help your students out with a similar problem.”

* * *

After Darren explained the issue to Olivander, he had thought it was a wonderful idea to help cater the dinner party. He hadn't mentioned that he really wasn’t a very good cook. Burt seemed like a foul sort of person, and if his reputation took a hit because of the poor performance, Olivander wouldn’t mind. Besides, it sounded fun.

Olivander had swiftly departed from the Develie estate once he sent Amegnon to his favorite mountaintop deathtrap. He really had nothing to say to Giles, and after Amegnon spoke to Olivander like he still respected his knowledge and power, despite what Amegnon had done to him, Giles wouldn’t question Olivander’s actions again. At least not unless he had backup.

They found an inn with a pair of rooms available near the market square. Olivander told Gregory and Cooper to rest up, because tomorrow they would be completing some contracts. He wasn’t going to get much sleep, however. He needed to study. He didn’t care about Burt’s reputation, but he wasn’t about to tarnish his own with a poor performance at the dinner.

In the morning, Olivander joined the others in the inn’s common room to plan their day. They were sitting around a circular table with mugs in front of Olivander and Gregory, and a bowl in front of Cooper. They had put it on the table for him, ignoring the dirty looks from the innkeeper.

“We have two contracts and a dinner party to cater tomorrow night. I think you two can probably tackle both contracts today if you’re quick about it,” Olivander said.

“What are we doing first?” Gregory asked.

“Ghost Howlers? They’re closer.”

“I’m inclined to agree with our furry friend. Besides, the factory is shut down until the infestation is cleared, so the faster you two can remove all of the howlers, the faster they can get back to work!”

The innkeeper stopped by with plates of breakfast for Gregory and Olivander. Coopers food was in a bowl, and he tossed it at the floor next to Cooper.

“Dogs belong on the floor,” the man said.

Olivander opened his mouth to speak when Gregory stood up suddenly.

"Hey now! That's not just some dog. He's intelligent and an adventurer. I won't let you treat him like that!"

The innkeeper had looked like he was going to respond with a snide remark, but when he turned to see Gregory towering over him, he hesitated.

Olivander could tell the innkeeper was having a hard time trying to decide between running away or punching Gregory. Since Olivander didn’t want to find another place to stay, he diffused the situation.

A basic levitation ritual was off his hand and out of his mouth in an instant, moving Cooper’s food from the floor to the table.

"I can see why you wouldn't have known, Cooper isn't wearing his armor yet! I do apologize for causing the confusion."

He guided Gregory back to his seat with a hand, and the innkeeper met his eyes.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Yes…of course. Thanks for clearing that up, Mr. Olivander. Let me know if you need anything else."

The man walked away, not quite happy, but not quite mad either. Good enough.

"So confident, Gregory! Well done! But please do try to not get us kicked out of our lodgings after the first night."

Gregory flushed a bit, Olivander wasn’t sure if it was about the compliment or gentle chiding.

"Thanks Olivander. I've just been pushed around for something I couldn't change for so long, I don't want anyone to do that to my friends."

"Thank you, Gregory. I'm used to being chased around with a broom or a net. I'm not used to having someone stand up for me like that."

Gregory looked like he was about to cry, but Olivander didn't have the emotional energy left after yesterday to deal with it.

"That is all very sweet, but we should finish our meals and start these contracts! Those poop-throwing ghost monkeys aren't going to fight themselves to death!"

"Hold on, did you say poop-throwing?"

"Eat up, Gregory! Believe me when I say you're not going to want to eat later."

* * *

They arrived outside the factory in an industrial district. As far as Gregory could tell, the only thing different about the area was how much dirtier it was. There were still homes nearby and people walking around, so it was similar enough to the rest of the city. He noticed the people looked a little more worn down, when he really looked at them.

The factory was a long two story building, taking up most of the block in front of them. There was no one going in or out, and some signs posted warning people away — not that they were needed. Gregory had heard the howling from blocks away.

“Wow, they really are howling.”

“Yes, Gregory, the Ghost Howlers are howling. Nothing gets past you.”

Gregory was about to respond when he caught a whiff of something that made his stomach churn.

“What is that?”

“Definitely poop,” Cooper said, sniffing the air.

“Right you are, Cooper. The ghost monkeys are named after their signature howl, but that’s far from the worst thing about them.”

Cooper was still sniffing the air, and Gregory looked at him incredulously.

“How can you keep smelling that? It’s awful.”

“There are a lot of different smells here. I can focus on whichever I want. Besides, I like the poop smell.”

“You like it!?”

“I feel like you forget I’m a dog sometimes.”

Well that was true. Cooper was just his friend.

“Yes, yes. We all have different preferences. Now, why don’t you two head on in and start clearing those pests!”

Cooper awkwardly took the conjured blue sword from Olivander. He held it in his mouth, which wasn’t great for fighting, but he’d have to do his best. Gregory took a deep breath of the moderately fresh air outside the factory.

They walked in, Olivander trailing slightly behind them.

As soon as they entered, all of the howling stopped. It was eerily quiet.

Then a ball flew through the air, straight towards Olivander.

Gregory watched as the ball descended. It was definitely brown, and it was definitely stinky. Olivander didn’t seem to pay attention to it.

Gregory was helpless to save the man, he could just watch as the flung pile of poop approached Olivander, then disappeared through a portal.

A stinky brown blob hit Gregory in the back.

“REALLY?”

“Eyes up Gregory, that’s not the last hit you’re going to take today.”

Once the pair started talking, all hell broke loose. Monkeys started screaming, and the air was suddenly thick with projectiles.

Olivander activated a couple of wards, and then sat down to read. The stinky piles flung at him were deflected back the way they had come.

Gregory and Cooper were simply pelted. He now understood why they had closed the factory, even though Ghost Howlers were listed as one of the weakest monsters.

The pair dashed towards the nearest clump of monsters.

Gregory stopped some distance away, belatedly remembering that he didn’t need to be close to hit them.

“Mana Bolt!” he said. The white projectile shot out from his outstretched hand at a distant howler.

His magic hit, and the howler detonated into glowing bits. The bits faded away as they returned to wherever it was that ghosts came from.

“Nice hit, Gregory! Don’t forget your surroundings though.”

A soft and light force landed on Gregory’s chainmail and then bit him in the neck.

It burned as he felt a little mana bleed away along with the health from a direct bite to the neck.

He shot another mana bolt over his shoulder, blowing his attacker apart. He dodged immediately, not wanting to have the same thing happen again. He pulled out his sword. He was more mobile without it, since the confines were a little tight between conveyor belts and machines with unknown functions, but he needed it to defend himself. He would use his mana bolt as much as possible, but with his limited mana pool, he only had enough mana for one or two more bolts until his mana recharged.

Gregory spared a glance for Cooper. The glowing blue sword ripped the howlers apart. Gregory thought it was a little unfair that he had spent a solid amount of time learning how to hold and swing a sword, and Cooper was already better at it than he was. He blamed his inferior dexterity.

Before he could complain more, he had more howlers to deal with.

The fight dragged on. Occasionally a howler would jump on one of their backs and bite them, but for the most part they took little to no damage. Gregory ran out of mana quickly and allowed time for it to restore, but eventually the pair swapped weapons.

Cooper was still full on mana, and could charge up Gregory’s sword to affect the howlers. Gregory let his mana recover, hacking apart the howlers with Olivander's icy sword as they swarmed him.

As mana recharged in one of the pair and drained from another, they swapped weapons again. Gregory could see why there was a minimum requirement of two copper adventurers for this contract.

When the last howler fell, and the factory was finally blessed with silence, Gregory and Cooper stood, panting heavily. They had never been in any real danger, so it was a different sort of fight than they had experienced in the dungeon, but they had still pushed themselves to the limits of their endurance.

Gregory had, blessedly, stopped being able to smell sometime near the beginning of the fight. Both he and Cooper were caked in sweat, filth, and just a little of their own blood. It would have been worse if the howlers’ bodies didn’t just evaporate after being destroyed.

Olivander walked up, his ward was actively pushing piles of filth away from him as he moved through the factory.

“Good work you two! I saw some nice teamwork and great effort all around. Now, how about we get you both cleaned up. Maybe I can do something about this factory too," he said, looking around.

Gregory expected to be scooped up into an orb of water, so he closed his eyes.

When that didn’t happen, he saw Olivander paging through his grimoire.

“I’m going to have to do something custom for this. I don’t have a large scale cleaning spell, and my normal one probably won’t deal with all this…stuff.”

“You can make new spells?”

“Yes, but in this case I'm combining spells. It’s dangerous and takes a lot of practice. If you live long enough, I can show you. It’s the same technique that I used to create those vehicles your father and I rode out to rescue Fezzic. I’ve made vehicles many times though. Cleaning spells? They’re difficult to get right. Need to find the right balance between scrubbing someone clean and scouring the flesh from their bones. Tricky, but I think I can manage.”

“Maybe we should wait outside,” Gregory said, starting to shuffle away.

“No need, I've already figured out the perfect combination! Now, you're definitely going to want to stay still for this.”