The signs turned out to be completely useless. After walking in a circle at least three times, Arek was starting to get slightly annoyed. Luckily, Ming got fed up faster than he did. She darted off down a side street, forcing the rest of them to run after her.

As it turned out, they should have done that from the start. Ming located the town square no more than a minute later. They finally caught up to the small mage, but not before she managed to buy a chocolate covered banana on a stick from a vendor in a cart.

“You should have let me lead,” Ming said, her voice muffled as she stuffed the entire thing into her mouth. “I found it fast.”

Belmont pulled her mouth open and extracted the wooden stick before Ming could swallow it. He smacked her on the head with it.

“Don’t eat the stick!”

“It has flavor!” Ming mumbled. “My stomach can digest it anyways. I draw all the energy out of everything I eat to fuel my magic.”

“We’re not getting into this right now,” Malissa said with a sigh. “You’re right about one thing though. Those signs were horrible. I’ve never seen such poor directions in my life.”

“Hey, at least we made it now,” Arek said, scanning the shopfronts for any ‘help wanted’ signs. A few that appeared to belong to restaurants caught his eye. “Shall we split up and see what kind of jobs we might be able to get?”

They all turned to look at Ming.

“What?”

“You’re coming with me,” Malissa decided. “Belmont, please don’t stab anyone.”

“I won’t,” Belmont promised. Then, under his breath, he added, “nobody that doesn’t deserve it, at least.”

Malissa grunted. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Wait, you heard me?” Belmont asked. Malissa smirked and waved her hand, taking Ming by the shoulder and leading her toward the far end of the square. Belmont pursed his lips, then glanced around. “Maybe I can find a smith.”

“Or an enchanter,” Arek suggested. “Moonrune products are very lucrative, not to mention that enchantments can be pretty powerful. Maybe you could pick up a thing or two.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Belmont mused. He rubbed his chin, then started into the crowd while scanning the shops.

Arek wandered off in the direction of the restaurants he’d spotted earlier. He kept as far away from the crowd as possible to avoid drawing any ire, but to his surprise, not many people paid him much attention.

The most he got were a few surprised glances from passersby. Not about to question his good luck, Arek reached a restaurant named Dinky’s Dive and stepped inside. A tiny bell rang, announcing his arrival.

“Looking for a meal?” a short bartender asked, brushing long golden hair out of his face. “Wait, do you speak common?”

“I do,” Arek replied. He poked the chef’s hat perched atop his head. “And I’m looking for a job, not a meal.”

The bartender cocked an eyebrow and grabbed a mug from a shelf behind him, filling it with a dark liquor and sliding it down the bar to a dwarf who hadn’t even finished raising his hand. The dwarf grabbed the mug, raising it in appreciation, and slammed the whole thing in one go.

“Fancy yourself a cook?” the bartender asked.

“I am a cook,” Arek corrected. “I’m curious to know what a job at this location would entail.”

“Are you a tourist our here to stay?”

“I’ll be here for around three weeks.”

“Then, in that case, all I need is a dishwasher. Interested? It pays five bronze a day.”

Arek grimaced. “I’m afraid I’d prefer to cook. Do you happen to know if any location is seeking a chef?”

“Most restaurants in this area have their own secret recipes. I doubt you’re going to find any short term work as a chef,” the bartender replied with a shrug. “And that includes myself. It just ain’t worth the effort of possibly losing a recipe to some upstart thief.”

Arek snorted. “Secret recipes. Food is meant to be shared.”

“Tell that to my competitors. I’ve got a living to make,” the bartender replied, narrowing his eyes.

“Then cook better than they do,” Arek said. He shook his head, then turned around and walked out the door. He strode over to a restaurant beside Dinky’s Dive, but was given almost the exact same response.

Arek tried his luck with half a dozen other shops, ranging from bakeries to diners. Every single one refused to offer him a cooking job so long as he wasn’t planning to stay in the area for more than a few weeks.

He trudged back to where they’d entered the square several hours later and sat down on a bench, dejected but not defeated. Ming was the first to rejoin him. She carried two soft, cheese filled pastries in her hands.

Hopping onto the bench beside him, Ming offered Arek one of her prizes. “No luck?”

“Not much,” Arek admitted, taking it from her with a smile. He ate the entire thing in one bite, enjoying the salty flavor of the cheese as it mingled with the rich, sweet pastry. It had been masterfully made – and the texture was incredible. He’d never had dough quite as fluffy or buttery before. “But this is delicious.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“A nice old guy gave them to me,” Ming replied happily. “He was selling them out of a wooden cart.”

Arek grunted. “Not much need for aid if he’s working out of a one person cart, I suppose. Were you able to find a job?”

“No,” Ming said. “Everyone thought I was a child.”

“Unfortunate,” Arek drawled. “I can’t see how that would have happened.”

“Me neither,” Ming said, completely straight faced. She finished off her pastry and licked her fingers. They sat in silence for a few moments. Then Ming poked Arek in the chest. “What if we did that too?”

“Did what?” Arek asked.

Ming nodded in the direction of the cart that she’d gotten her pastries from. “Well, he’s just selling food from the street. We can’t afford a store, but maybe we could get a cart like that. Your food would sell more than enough to make money.”

Arek blinked. Somehow, selling his food on the street had yet to occur to him – perhaps because he still half expected to get chased out of the city by an angry mob. “That’s… actually quite a good idea. I’d be a little constrained by the cart’s size, but it would be an interesting challenge.”

“I’m full of good ideas,” Ming said. “And food.”

“That you are,” Arek said slowly, his gaze latched on the wooden cart. “That you are.”

Malissa and Belmont found them a few minutes later, their expressions downcast. The two sat down at Arek’s side.

“You look pleased,” the orc drawled. “What happened?”

“I hate every single job here,” Malissa said. “Nobody wanted to teach me any recipes or even let me cook in their kitchens. The only people hiring were the whorehouses, who apparently also guard their recipes. And – get this – they wouldn’t even hire me!”

“They offered the role to me instead,” Belmont said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “But for that pay, I would never even consider it.”

“So none of us had much luck,” Arek finished. “I found much of what Malissa did, although I admit that I didn’t try my hand at any… nightlife. I’d imagine there’s a market, but I’m not too interested in partaking.”

“So we’re getting the cart then?” Malissa asked.

“Cart?” Belmont cocked an eyebrow.

Arek nodded in the vendor’s direction. “Ming had an idea. We don’t necessarily need to work for someone else. If nobody is willing to give us a job, we’ll make our own. My cooking is more than good enough to compete with the competition, and maybe once we make a mark, people will be a little more interested in trading with us.”

“That covers you and Malissa,” Belmont said, tapping a finger on his armored hip with a clink. “What about me and Ming? If you let Ming into the kitchen, she’ll eat everything before you can serve it to someone.”

“This is true,” Ming said cheerfully. “Which is why it would be a fantastic idea.”

“Not if we’re trying to make money.”

“I’ll leave a little.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Belmont, please,” Arek said, chuckling and raising a hand. “We’ll need to get our hands on ingredients. We also need advertising, or nobody is going to check us out. And, on top of that, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of these people tried to start some trouble with us once we set up shop. I won’t be able to take any direct action against them because I’m an orc. If I so much as defend myself, I’ll likely get chased out of town.”

“I could be a guard,” Belmont said, blinking. “But… that leaves Ming to get ingredients and advertise.”

All of them turned to her.

“What?” Ming asked.

“Are you capable of getting ingredients without eating all of them?” Malissa asked.

Ming frowned and rubbed her chin. “Can I eat a little?”

“No,” Arek and Malissa chorused.

“That is pretty hard,” Ming said. “I suppose I can do my best.”

“What about advertising?” Malissa asked.

“I think Ming should be able to do that without much work at all,” Arek said, a grin tugging at his lips. “All we’ll have to do is giver her some food and set her loose on the city. As long as she doesn’t eat it all at once, people will notice and follow her back if the food is good enough.”

“Bold of you to assume she won’t eat it all at once,” Belmont said. Ming nodded empathetically.

“I’m sure she’ll be able to handle it,” Arek said, pushing himself back to his feet and brushing his backside off. He shifted his large bag with a grunt and nodded. “Let’s get to it. I’ve always wanted to start a restaurant.”

“This isn’t exactly a full restaurant,” Malissa said as they joined him.

“Have to start somewhere,” Belmont said with a shrug. “And it’s safe. Nice and open, so nobody can easily sneak up on us. I won’t even have to trap it too much.”

“Quick question,” Ming said, jogging to keep up with them. “Where are we supposed to find a cart? We aren’t stealing the old dude’s one, are we?”

“It would be cheaper,” Belmont mused.

“Also illegal. Not doing that,” Arek said. “But there has to be somewhere that’s got a cart for sale. This is a huge city. Just look for a woodworking shop or something. Maybe a travelling farmhand?”

And that was what they did – for the next three hours. The group roamed up and down Seaside’s streets, scouring them for any sight of wooden carts that could be converted to their purposes.

It wasn’t that there were none. On the contrary, the city was full of them. Unfortunately, the majority of them were also actively being used, and their owners were not particularly interested in parting with them.

The carts that were both available and in one piece didn’t instill Arek with much confidence. Many were discarded, missing wheels or covered with mold and rot. Just when he was starting to wonder if there was even a single passable cart that wasn’t already spoken for in the entire city, something caught his eye.

An old man was closing up his storefront. The building was two stories high and flanked by two large alleys that twisted deeper into the city’s center. Parked at the edge of the store was a wooden cart, aged and tanned from the sun.

Its wheels were slightly sunken into a small patch of mud, and judging by the grass growing around it, the cart didn’t look like it had been used in quite some time. Arek brought the others’ attention to it and the Happy Sunflowers jogged over to the man.

“Excuse me,” Malissa said, clearing her throat as they grew close. The man spun, raising his fists defensively as he stared at them from beneath two bushy eyebrows.

“Whadda want?”

“Are you using that cart?” Ming asked, blinking her wide eyes at him. “We’d really, really like to eat it.”

“Buy it,” Malissa corrected. “We’d like to buy it. If you aren’t using it, of course.”

“That old thing?” the man asked, frowning. “Why?”

“Does it matter?” Belmont asked. “Our money is good.”

“Be polite,” Malissa scolded him. Belmont turned his nose up and she let out an exasperated sigh.

“Please?” Ming pleaded. “I’m hungry.”

“It’s wood. You can’t eat it,” the man said, crossing his arms. “Is this a joke? It’s not funny.”

“We don’t want to eat it,” Malissa said, grabbing Ming by the arm and pulling the smaller woman behind her. “Don’t worry about our friend. She’s a little delirious. We need the cart to start up a food stall.”

The man harrumphed. “Well, if that’s the case, the thing isn’t doing me much use. My son used to haul lumber for our fireplace in it, but it’s been years since he moved out and the cart has just been sitting there. I’ll give it to you for ten gold.”

“Done,” Malissa said, grabbing the requested coin and dropping it in the man’s palm. She winked at the others, then walked over to the cart and tugged on it. It was lodged in the mud.

“Deal didn’t include me helping you move it, mind you,” the old man said. “Maybe you should ask your larger friend to–”

With a heave, Malissa lifted the entire thing over her head. Mud and grass rained down around her as her muscles flexed and she let out a grunt. “Right. Got it. The wheels are screwed, but I think we can fix them.”

The man’s mouth dropped open and Arek chuckled.

“We’ll deal with that later. Good job, Malissa.”

“Thanks,” she said, adjusting her grip on it with a grimace. “So, where to?”