“Hmm,” said the old man as he examined Belziah’s amulet closely. “This is a most curious trinket indeed. Where did you say you found it again?”

“In a crypt,” said Marina pleasantly.

The old man raised an eyebrow. “Very well, very well,” he said with a shrug. “The great Janvin will see what he can discern from this most luminous artifact.”

“How much will that cost?”

“I’m feeling generous today, so it will only cost eighty kupons for a young one as pretty as yourself.”

“Thank you,” said Marina, turning to Friedrich with a wide grin.

Friedrich sighed as he reached inside his wallet pouch and pulled out a small handful of kupons—one purple, a blue, and a red. He handed them over to Janvin, who held them to the light and inspected them with through his eyeglass.

“That all seems to be in order,” he said, clapping his hands once. “I will have it ready for you to pick up in a couple of hours. I have some other matters to attend to.”

“I thought the spell was instant?” asked Friedrich.

“Shush,” said Marina, nudging him in the ribs.

“It is instant, young man,” said Friedrich, “but as I said, I have other matters to attend to first. That amulet of the lovely young lady’s is somewhere in the middle of my priority list. You would do well to mind your manners.”

Friedrich looked down, feeling embarrassed at being scolded like a child. “My apologies,” he said before slinking out of the shop.

“Sometimes I wonder about you,” said Marina, tutting.

“Wonder about me how?”

“You can be so rude without realising it.”

“I thought it was reasonable to ask why it would take him so long.”

“You implied he was being lazy.”

“I did?”

“It’s how it sounded to me, and evidently, to him too.”

“I apologised, didn’t I?”

Marina shook her head. “Just be more careful about what you say. I managed to get us a twenty kupon discount by being nice to him.”

“He probably thought he could treat you to dinner at the tavern,” scoffed Friedrich, fidgeting with his new shield that hung from his arm.

“I am quite the catch, aren’t I?” asked Marina jokingly, flicking her deep brown hair and then playfully shoving Friedrich.

“Now that we have a couple of hours to kill,” he said, ignoring her. “Do you have anything you need to do?”

“Nothing comes to mind except for—”

“No, we aren’t spending any more of my money. I’m getting close to losing more than I’m earning after this excursion.”

“The journey to the crypt was your idea.”

“I know, but it doesn’t change the fact I’m bleeding kupons. If that scumbag Muriance hadn’t shown up then we would be laughing all the way to the portal vault.”

“Who knows, maybe the amulet will be worth…I don’t know, five hundred kupons?”

“We’ll see.”

“Cheer up, Friedrich.”

Friedrich muttered under his breath. “I’ll take one hundred because that’ll at least cover the cost of the identification and leave us with money for some food.”

“So where to, fearless leader?” asked Marina, prodding Friedrich’s shoulder.

“Where else? To the town square where all the best rumour merchants are stirring the pot.”

“Lead the way!”

Friedrich did just that. He knew little of this town—Fallswych—but his general principle for finding where he wanted to go in a new town was to follow the crowd, and follow them he did. Within a few minutes, they were standing in the centre of the town by the lion-topped fountain, surveying the area around them.

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It was a quaint little town, the buildings made more of stone than they were of wood, with farmers carting their goods around on self-pulled wagons or horse-drawn carts. All the while, children ran through the square rambunctiously, pushing past the elderly who yelled after them. But it was the town crier shouting the local news that Friedrich was paying most attention to.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” he called out to the square. “The road to the south has been plagued by a trio of orcs who were apprehended by Lord Calhoun’s men. They were said to be carrying an ancient stone tablet that they had stolen from a fallen Mercian tower. The artifact has been recovered and is being transported to the museum in Akatfall. The orcs have escaped and travellers are to be extra vigilant.”

“A trio of orcs?” asked Marina, holding a finger to her chin. “Could that be—”

“Hush, woman, I’m listening,” said Friedrich, holding up his hand and signalling for her to pipe down.

Marina scowled as the crier relayed his next piece of news.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Branric the Isolated has ventured out from his isolation to place a bounty upon the head of the local goblin tribal leader, Chief Groksh. Please see the noticeboard outside the Faithful Mare for further details.”

“That’s the one,” said Friedrich excitedly, clapping his hands together once.

“You’re a bounty hunter now?” asked Marina.

“That depends on the reward,” said Friedrich hurrying across the square to the tall-standing tavern where the noticeboard sat under an awning.

He scanned the various pages and postings, from special offers of potions to warnings about feeding the stray cats. He located the bounty signed by Branric the Isolated and read it from top to bottom.

WANTED!

Chief Groksh of the Grey Fen Goblins.

Usually found in his Grey Fens camp surrounded by his tribe of three dozen.

Upon successful beheading, bring the head (no matter how decayed) to my house two miles due South of the Grey Fens. You will know it when you see it.

REWARD: 350 kupons

“Three hundred and fifty kupons?” asked Marina, looking over Friedrich’s shoulder. “Do you think we could talk him up?”

“Ridding the world of filthy goblins and getting paid for it? It sounds like a great deal to me.”

“Ask him for four hundred when you give him the head.”

“But he’ll know Chief Groksh is already dead because we’ll be carrying around a bloody, decapitated head.”

“I’ll keep the head outside until you ask him.”

“You’ll look after a head when you can’t see a spider without screaming like a banshee?”

“Just keep it twenty feet away from me and I’ll live with it.”

“Three dozen goblins,” muttered Friedrich, re-reading the notice. “I wonder if there’s a way in which we can distract them?”

Marina placed two fingers to her forehead and started muttering under her breath. “I wonder if we could…”

“Never mind, I have a plan.”

“You don’t want to hear mine first?”

“Will it be as good as mine?”

“I don’t know what your plan is!”

Friedrich talked Marina through his plan, laying out each step of it in detail. Her face fell as he talked, dreading to think what would happen if things didn’t pan out as he expected.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Of course it’s dangerous, it’s a bounty and we’ve got more than three dozen goblins lurking in the camp.”

“Even still…I thought we could do something a little lower key after we were nearly killed by zombies and then Muriance.”

“This trip to Fallswych is low key enough. Have you not caught the thrill of adventure yet?”

“There’s adventure and then there’s multiple near-death experiences in a row.”

“That’s what makes it fun,” said Friedrich with a shrug. “The kupons are secondary?”

“Secondary?” asked Marina with a raised eyebrow.

Friedrich looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, joint first place…alright, the adventure is secondary to the riches. You got me with this one.”

“Speaking of riches,” said Marina, as her stomach growled. “Can we get something to eat?”

“Let’s see what this Faithful Mare has to offer,” said Friedrich, pulling the bounty notice from the board and stashing it in one of his belt pouches.

Friedrich and Marina enjoyed a lunch of steak, potatoes and carrots, glad to be eating somewhere warm rather than out in the often-damp Mercian countryside. Friedrich often talked about taking a boat to the island of Kai’roh which lay to the south, where treasure was said to be buried deep beneath the sands. Marina, however, was less keen on the idea.

When Friedrich asked her why, she would always say that she would miss home too much, but she refused to talk further about where her home even was. It was clear that she was a Mercian by blood, but she kept her lips shut tight about everything before meeting Friedrich, even when he would ask directly.

As the sun began to set upon the town, the two young treasure hunters returned to Janvin’s shop, where he was examining a strange orb upon his counter. The swirling cloud within the orb flickered with electricity every now and then, catching Marina’s attention.

“Oooh,” she said. “What does this do?”

“Ah, you’ve returned?” asked Janvin, looking up at her with a pleasant smile. “This, my pretty, is a chaos orb filled with lightning magic. How it works, I’m not sure, but I intend to find out for the owner.”

“Did you find out what enchantment was placed upon the pendant?” asked Friedrich.

“I did, yes,” said Janvin, his voice less warm when talking to Friedrich. “Its enchantment was two-fold, the major enchantment being a ward against undeath.”

“Was?”

“Yes, the second enchantment was a trap mechanism, but it’s far too far out of range to be of use. Even if it was in range, I’m not sure if it’s strong enough to still work.”

“Ah…yes,” said Friedrich, not surprised.

“Should we keep it?” Marina asked him.

“What for?”

“In case we find any more undead.”

“Janvin,” said Friedrich turning to the shopkeeper, “does the ward against undeath prevent them from approaching you or prevent you from becoming one?”

“The latter,” said Janvin.

“I say we sell it,” Friedrich said to Marina.

“Where?”

“I would buy it from you for a fair price,” said Janvin. “The ward isn’t of much use to me imbued within the stone, but I may be able to siphon its magical energy for other purposes.”

“What’s a fair price?” asked Friedrich.

“One hundred and thirty kupons,” he said.

Marina walked up to his countertop and leaned on it, her eyes wide and her smile even wider. “Is that the best you can do?” she asked sweetly.

Janvin smiled as Friedrich resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Alright, one hundred and fifty, but only because you’re so beautiful, my dear.”

“Deal!” said Marina.