On the lone destroyer docked at Lignum, a dozen people sit around an oval table made to seat twenty. On one of those seats, slightly larger and more resplendent than the others, sits the ship’s very frustrated captain.

“Four days. We’ve been hunting the [Rogue] for four days, and none of you have even an inkling of who they are?” The [Bounty Hunter] glares at his crew and they shy away from his gaze.

A tall, thin man with a short beard glances to his left.

“[Captain], your anger is warranted, but not on your crew. A skilled [Rogue] that could best you, even in surprise, is not someone that cannot hide their tracks,” The [First Mate] says.

The [Captain] shifts his anger. “Kurtis, shove a sock in it, and stop trying to sooth my anger. I lost my damn cutlass. That's an [Uncommon] quality weapon given to me by the guild as a sign of authority. Getting it replaced is going to cost me my savings and will take far too much.”

Kurtis shows little to no emotion, a professional stoic if you’ve ever met one. “You only need to bring your cutlass with you when we are dealing with other guilds. Arbor doesn't have any guild presence at all.”

The [Captain] glares at his [First Mate] for several seconds, before releasing a breath and leaning back.

“You're right. I hate that you’re right. It was stupid vanity that had me carrying the sword. I should have just used a different one.” He grimaces, “Damn me. I should have chosen [Hunt Object] instead of [Hunt Entity] when I hit thirty. Then I would have found my sword and probably the perpetrator.”

“So long as the sword is still in their possession,” Kurtis adds. “If they sold it, then you won't find the [Rogue]. Also, if memory serves, [Hunt Entity] is a far more profitable skill.”

The [Captain] grumbles for a moment, and then sighs. “But it’s useless without more information. I need to know their background, class, and a better idea of what they look like before I can use my skill. I also need to place a bounty on their head, probably a hefty one if I’m to get a good range.”

He taps the table softly. “All I can do is search the town for clues.” he glances at his seated crew. “Have we found this Boriss fellow and his talking cat?”

“You think he is the [Rogue], [Captain]?” one of the crew members asks.

“Honestly, I’m not sure, but it is the only lead we have. The cat looks similar to the one I saw before I was knocked unconscious. And if the drunks are to be believed, Boriss is capable of combat.”

“Slamming a chair into a smaller and younger man is not a good indicator of combat,” Kurtis says.

The [Captain] grins, “Oh, it actually is. If you’ve ever been properly trained as I have, they always teach you to win swiftly. Using a stool to end a bar fight instantly is the hallmark of a good fighter.”

The crew members with combat classes nod in grudging understanding. End your enemy as fast as possible. They could always get lucky and then you’ve got a sword in your gut.

“I see.” Kurtis nods. “Then I will take your advice to hea-”

Before Kurtis can finish, the door to the room is blasted open and another member of his crew rushes in.

“[Captain],” the member calls.

The [Captain] quickly rises up off his seat.

“What is it?”

“The cat, [Captain]. I found it walking down a street. We chased after it, but it climbed a tree and disappeared on the rooftops.”

“Show me!”

______________________________________________________________

Maybe I should have waited a couple hours until it was dark? Eh, it's fine. I got away, and it's not like I was heading to Myers’ place.

I traverse the rooftops of the town, making sure to avoid anyone that looks to be in a uniform. Eventually, I arrive at my destination.

I climb down to the second floor and enter a slightly open window by squeezing myself through the gap.

I land on the bed, drop to the carpeted floor, and then walk to the door. I hop up and turn the handle. The door opens and I exit the room.

The carpet flooring feels nice under my paws. I wonder if my new ship will have some installed.

I walk down the stairs, traverse the living room, and enter the kitchen to the surprise and anger of the couple. I hop up on the dining table where they are currently eating dinner.

“Honey, what is a cat doing here? Why is it trailing mud everywhere?” The woman yells in outrage.

“I’m trailing mud because your husband sent me to a damn swamp. Which by the way,” I preen a bit, “ is now a drained swamp thanks to yours truly. You may now prepare that ship you promised me.”

“Is this the talking cat? I thought you were making it up.”

Centeran Adams ignores his wife’s surprise.

“The corruption is gone? Truly? How? What did you do?”

“Yes, it's gone. No death water anywhere. Just dead trees, bones, and mud. A fucking lot of mud. As for how? Well, the explanation requires knowledge you humans could never possibly comprehend.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He swallows slowly as adrenaline courses through the [Governor’s] body.

“I-I will have to verify your claims.”

“Do it, and do it quickly.” I stretch and turn my back to them. “I’ll be at Myers’ place in the meantime. Notify me there when you’ve got the ship ready.”

I hop off the table and land on the carpet.

“The mud!” I hear the woman scream, but I ignore her. I rush up the carpeted stairs, making sure to remove as much dirt from my paws as possible. It wouldn't do to mess up Myers’ floor.

_________________________________________________________

By the time I reach Myers’ home, night has finally fallen. I climb to the backyard where an empty skin bag lays on grass. I rush to the door and knock several times with my paw.

I hear the pitter patter of feet, the clicking of a lock, and then the door opens.

“Fluffy!” Clay squeals. “You’re back.” Clay says with a grin. The kid spreads his arms to pick me up, but I step back.

“I’m covered in mud. If you want to pet me, then I require a bath.”

Clay quickly nods and rushes to fill a basin.

I enter the home and make my way to the living room where the spoils of the last two days are strewn across the floor. Hundreds of coins, weapons, armor, and jewelry. Anything that looked expensive was thrown in a makeshift pack and then carried back. The only thing missing is the oddly glowing orb the size of my head that I had Boriss stash away from all prying eyes.

Looking at the group, I can't help but feel impressed by the diversity of reactions. Boriss is happily test swinging a hammer, Irmgard is systematically and stoically organizing the treasure, and Cillian is counting the coins with a grin on his face. And then there is Myers. The old man is sitting on his rocking chair, staring intently at the treasure with an expression that looks like he’s in the midst of taking a very firm shit.

“It's not much treasure, but I think it's a start, wouldn't you agree, Myers?”

Everyone finally notices my presence. Well, everyone except for Boriss. He already glanced my way when I entered the room but was too busy swinging the hammer to speak.

“Is this all from the swamp?”

“I’m not sure what you are asking. If you are asking if everything I brought was from the swamp? Then yes. If you are asking if this is everything in the swamp, then no. There are probably plenty more valuable items hidden under mud that I have no time to search for. Also, there is no swamp anymore. Quest is a success. Now we wait for our ship and then we have to get supplies.”

“That will be simple.” Irmgard looks my way. “Me and Cillian have already spoken to suppliers and agreed on a possible price. We must merely accept the offer when the ship is ready.”

I perk up. “That's good. Very good.” I look to Cillian. “Have you figured out your skill while I was gone?”

Cillian glances at Myers for a moment.

“Just give me a yes or no question,” I say.

Before Cillian can answer, Clay peaks into the living room. “Boriss,” Clay calls.

“Yes little comrade?” Boriss stops swinging the hammer.

“I filled the wash basin with water. Can you help me move it to the living room?”

“Da.” Boriss lays down the hammer and follows Clayde. He returns not a moment later and places the filled basin on the floor.

“Clay,” Myers frowns, “we don't need to clean the treasure in the living room.”

“It’s not for the treasure.” I exclaim. I crawl into the basin.

“The water is for me.” I glance at Clay, “You even heated the water up. Thank you. Did you bring soap?“

The child raises a small bit of soap in one hand and a brush in the other.

“Perfect.” I lean to the side of the Basin. “You may begin the cleaning. Gentle on the belly though, I'm sensitive.

“Okay!”

________________________________________________________________

Centeran paces back and forth with one hand on a booklet and the other holding his pipe. Every moment that passes, his pipe moves to his mouth, and then gets removed when he remembers he needs to light it again. He glances at his desk, grimacing at the empty box of matches. He’d gone through a week's supply of matches in only a day. He will and should go out and buy more.

But…

“What is taking so long?” He exclaims angrily. “It has been a day already. He should be back now.”

Centeran tries to assuage his anxiety by glancing at the book in his hand. He goes through it, reading the first page for the hundredth time again. But, once again, his mind swerves back to the object of his anxiety.

Eventually, the knocking of the door to his office sets his mind at ease. He rushes to his chair and takes a seat.

“Come in.”

What he expects is the [Head Guard], but what he instead gets is the [Bounty Hunter].

“[Governor] Centeran, I hope I am not interrupting you.”

Centeran quickly waves the man in. “No, no. Your timing is perfect, Raaf. I’ve been meaning for a distraction.”

The man, wearing his armored coat with the Crows guild emblem on one shoulder and his own personal emblem on his other walks in with a strained smile.

“Thank you for seeing me. I was actually looking for the [Head Guard], but I heard he stepped out.”

“Yes,” Centeran nods, “I sent him to look into something for me. He should be back any moment now. In the meantime, maybe I can help you with something?”

Raaf smiles politely. “Possibly. One of my crew said they noticed a cat running around, the same one that is related to the incident. I was hoping to ask the [Head Guard] to have the [Guards] keep a lookout and inform me and my crew if they notice the cat again.”

Unfortunately, Raaf, that will entirely depend on what my [Head Guard] tells me on his return.

“I can absolutely inform my [Head Guard] of your request, which I believe to be quite reasonable.”

Raaf nods. “Thank you, [Governor]. One more question. “Do you know where a man by the name of Myers lives?”

“Old man Myers? Do you need him for something?”

“I just wish to ask him some questions.”

Centeran hides a grimace. “I don’t exactly know where, but if you can give me a day, I can most assuredly figure that out and give you his address.”

“Thank you, Governor.”

“Is there anything more I can help you with?”

“No, that is all. I will now take my leave.”

Centeran sighs when the [Bounty Hunter] leaves. And within five minutes, the anxiety ramps up all over again and he is pacing back and forth.

Thankfully, he only needs to pace for another hour until his [Head Guard] quickly barges in covered in sweat..

“Garrus, what's wrong?”

“It's gone. All of it is gone.”

“What's gone?”

“The swamp.”