Ow! My head! My poor aching head! Melly thought as she awoke the next morning.

The sun was already climbing in the sky, and she could feel its warmth on her back as she lay on the ground, face-planted into the grass. Had she been thrown from the carriage? Around her, birds were twittering away, creating a less than delightful chorus.

“Shaddahp,” she mumbled into the bed of grass.

She opened her eyes gingerly, squinting. The first thing she noticed was that the magical vehicle was nowhere to be seen. The second was a passed out Clemiticus, sprawled beside her over a large brown sack.

As if choosing that moment to react, Clemiticus kicked what was left of his wolf shoe and caught it mid-air. A radiant smile spread over his sleepy face as his new 'pillow' caressed his cheek with yesterday's crud.

Melly carefully pulled herself upright. Her muscles ached from her odd sleeping posture. “Where the hell are the others? Derrick? Nuecus?" she called out, but no one answered. With a groan, she managed to get to her feet and surveyed the area.

The two of them were alone together in a dry grass valley with only one distinguishable feature. A singular empty dirt road. To the north was a sea of grassy hills that stretched to the horizon like a soft blanket of green pillows. Much further down the road towards the south was a giant dusty looking graveyard. There lay the ruins of hundreds of old and incomplete towers and buildings lay decrypt and abandoned. The sheer contrast of the two neighbouring lands was mind-boggling.

She checked between the decrepit buildings and spotted the small dwellings she expected to find. Everyone in Lobee Village knew the peculiar circumstances that surrounded Bluehill Town. The large gravestone like structures encircled a much smaller complete town within. She sighed at the sight.

This was definitely the place architecture came to die.

"Morning!" Clemiticus sang, as he sat up and dusted himself off. He looked at his makeshift pillow and chuckled.

Melly grumbled in response, "morning."

Clemiticus looked his usual, all too enthusiastic self.

"If you're looking for the other two, I think they went on ahead after you passed out last night," he said.

She shrugged and nursed her forehead. The hammer behind her eyes kept up a steady rhythmic clanging.

Clemiticus rummaged through the large brown sack he had only just recently been using as a bed and pulled out a strange ball. He flung it towards her and winked.

"Hangover cure,” he said.

She obediently caught it and shoved it in her mouth, ignoring the grotesque flavour of the all too familiar mud ball. The relief was almost instantaneous, as she felt cool tendrils spread across her scalp. The feeling was bliss, and the taste horrible.

Melly gasped at the unexpected feeling and felt herself smile. The hangover cure was working just a little too well.

"Feeling buzzed?" Clemiticus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not sure buzzed, quite describes it," she said, panting. "That's one hell of a hangover cure! It that even legal?"

Clemiticus shrugged. "No idea, it's kind of all-rounder cure. Anyhow, it works, and we need you in tip-top shape, if we want to go exploring. By the way, what is this place?"

Melly turned to the south and pointed to the town and its muddle of dying projects. She knew a bit of the history of the place.

"Bluehill was once a rich, beautiful and vibrant town. But it went through a drastic change in the last few decades. Corruption spread rampantly, and the place kept going from bad to worse. Most of the high-rise buildings and keeps that you can see there are still supposedly under construction,” she explained.

Clemiticus nodded, then said, “They all look deserted.”

Melly nodded.

"They started construction long ago, but none have ever been finished. The local governors treat the buildings like debt and allocate different projects to new enthusiastic young entrepreneurs who get hopelessly enslaved by the tax system. The result is a large border around the town that resembles a graveyard of unfinished projects. Nowadays, the town’s controlled by bankers and crooks."

Clemiticus wrinkled up his nose in disgust.

"Because of the dilapidated construction sites, some people now call the place Dumpster Hill," Melly said mournfully.

“Where's the hill? I can only see a valley.”

“They dug it up for materials to make more buildings,” she replied.

“And, why Blue?”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Her eyes scanned the adjacent dusty hills and sighed. “Long ago, the Bluehill was a world-famous freshwater spring that flooded this valley with life. Now I hear it’s a tourist bath house.”

"Well, that sucks. This place looks like a shit hole," Clemiticus stated flatly.

Melly sighed. “Unfortunately. Poor buggers.”

They slowly made their way down the long road, trying not to pick up too much dust in their wake. The sight of the broken buildings slowly grew over time and eventually towered above them, enveloping their small, weary forms in deep, jagged shadows. Even after hearing all the stories about the place, she had never seen it in person. Being this close to the monstrous tribute of corruption left her feeling both sad and angry.

"Now I know that this is almost impossible for you but, please, try not to go around causing a ruckus!" Melly pleaded with Clemiticus. "The guards are desperately corrupt here and they look for any excuse to profit from us." She clicked her fingers. "Just like that. So don't give them any reason. Okay?"

"Righto!" chirped Clem.

Melly eyed the adventurer with suspicion. All she could do now was hope that they could get through the entire ordeal as painlessly as possible.

The sight of the construction graveyard slowly faded behind them as they approached the original Bluehill Town. After a time, they found themselves somewhere near its centre, within what looked like a market district. At least here where there's still wealth, they could imagine what the town could have been like in its prime. The road was paved with well-worn but polished cobblestones and the buildings on either side of the road ran parallel for many blocks.

The buildings were all painted differently, varied in height, and mashed together to save as much room within the town as possible. A large wooden sign outside each doorstep advertised the wares within while the local guards patrolled up and down the streets watching the locals' every move. Melly saw one guard eyeing them with suspicion while tapping a sign that read:

Pickpockets, thieves, and shoplifters will be thrown into the Coliseum.

All spectators are welcome and are encouraged to bring their families to enjoy the entertainment of the arena of death. First three rows may get splashed!

Children under 5 are half price! Free pastries on Tuesdays!

"Oh, look over there!" Clemiticus cheered as he skipped towards a shop with a gigantic sword in its front window.

Melly turned away from the horrible sign and watched Clemiticus who was acting like a little boy, running towards his favourite toy store. He even pressed his face into the display window.

"Look! Look!" Clemiticus gasped. "Can we? Please! Please! Please! Please! Please! Please! Please!"

Melly sighed. "Sure," she said, like a long-suffering mother appeasing a toddler.

Clemiticus sprinted into the store and squealed with excitement. She followed him in slowly. Moments later, Clemiticus was wobbling an insanely large two-handed claymore like a fishing rod, while the shop attendant cowered under his desk.

"Awesome!" he yelled as he windmilled the blade around the shop. It was a miracle he didn't hit anything.

"Whoa!" Melly cried as she threw her arms up, barely missing the tip of the blade. “Put that down!”

"But I want it!" he pouted.

"That’ll be one thousand gold, sir," squeaked a voice from under the desk. The shop attendant was still cowering.

"A thousand gold?" exclaimed Melly. "What a ripoff!"

"How much do we have?" Clemiticus missed the point completely.

"Twelve gold. Not like it matters! This sword should only cost fifty at max!" Melly argued.

The shop attendant squealed once more under Melly's scrutiny and quickly disappeared out of sight behind a staff door. In a flash, another, more senior shopkeeper appeared, clasping his hands together and smiling. However, Melly has his measure. She knew this man was anything but nice. She had dealt with his type before.

"As my co-worker has just told you. That item has a price tag of one thousand gold pieces. If you do not have the required funds, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave." His voice was flat and expressionless. It was obvious he had practised the line far too often. “Or we could set up a payment plan instead?”

Clemiticus walked up to the shopkeeper and planted the claymore on the wooden floor in between them.

"You seem to have lost your personality somewhere. Will you grant us the quest to retrieve it?" Clemiticus inquired seriously.

The shopkeeper didn't look even remotely affronted.

He confirmed. "It is not part of my job to have a personality. Now, please! If you don't have the required funds and wish not to set up a payment plan, I'm afraid I will have to ask you to leave."

"I know. You said that already!" Melly groaned.

Clemiticus smiled and laughed. The shopkeeper's expression didn't waver.

"Melly." Clemiticus interrupted, “can you pass me that bucket?"

Confused, she turned towards the dusty old wooden bucket lying against the wall behind her. Knowing better than to argue, she passed it without protest. He winked and thanked her then performed another 'only Clemiticus' kind of thing.

He blew gently on the bucket, causing a cloud of dust to rise off it. Then he tipped it upside down and lowered it over the shopkeeper's head. Melly could barely contain herself. She didn't know whether it was outrage or laughter, or even if both together cancelled each other out.

Either way, she stood transfixed at the sight of the shopkeeper with the bucket over his head. Contrary to how she thought the man would react, the expressionless shopkeeper was true to his non-existent personality and didn't move a muscle.

Clemiticus waved a hand in front of the bucket much in the manner of a magician, and then he made a few creatively vulgar finger gestures.

"What are you?" Melly asked.

"Shush," he said, berating her. "We are going now! Bye, bye," he announced to the shopkeeper. "Here is your sword back." Clemiticus took out his own rusty old sword and placed it down on the counter with an audible clunk.

"Goodbye, customer. Return when you have funds," The bucketed shopkeeper replied.

Clemiticus picked up the expensive claymore silently and shoved it into his impossibly spacious pocket. The blind shop keeper did not flinch as the steel vanished into Clemiticus' pocket.

BING! "Clemiticus has obtained the weapon, Claymore," the fairy announced.

"Shush!" reprimanded Melly.

The fairy shrugged indifference. A blue flash signalled from above, confirming that indeed Clemiticus had gained the large two-handed sword. He gestured to Melly to follow as he mischievously tiptoed out of the shop. All the while the statuesque bucket man didn't move a muscle.

"Ok. How the heck did you manage that?" Melly said, laughing in astonishment.

"The guy was a closet case NPC. They are way too easy to fool. Learned the bucket trick in a little old land called Tamriel," he said, smiling.

"And that's where you learned to steal?" she chuckled.

"Yep." He smiled. "Glitches always seem to stick. It's almost too easy to steal..."

"Aha!" A rough voice said from behind them. "You heard that, right? That's an admission of guilt!"

Four large guards, including the sign pointer Melly had seen, had followed silently behind them.

"I believe that's a first-degree account of shoplifting and two free tickets to the Coliseum!" said one guard.

"Free tickets? Hurray!" Clemiticus cheered.

The guards laughed. Melly's palm smacked audibly on her forehead.