The campfire crackled and popped in the makeshift ring, and its light flickered on the tree trunks and boughs overhead. Dellromoz sat staring into the flames, with his knees drawn up against his chest and his arms wrapped around them. When the flames began to die down, he threw in another piece of wood, then rocked back and forth, hugging his knees.

It wasn’t so cold that he needed the fire, and he knew it was foolish to build it. He hadn’t built one in all the time it took him to get to Stanhope because he knew it would make him easy to spot, and that wasn’t what a gnome on the run needed. He built this one anyway, just to keep him company. Things had been bearable before, when he had a plan, a destination, and someone who would take him in when he arrived. Now he had none of that. He didn’t even have the companion who was supposed to meet him here. He was alone, but the fire made him feel a little less so.

The plan had been for him to get off the barge in a secluded spot after two days of floating downstream. Before he’d ridden away, Erasmus had given him one of his red stockings, and told him to put a rock in it and drop it in the canal where he got off. After he’d given his pursuers the slip, Erasmus would jump in the canal and head downstream until he reached the marker, and the pair would set out for Ostron. Dell had been waiting for a day, but he wasn’t even sure if Erasmus was still alive after the crossbow bolt hit him and he fell into the canal. Is ‘alive’ even the right word for him? Regardless, things weren’t supposed to go the way they had.

Even if he hadn’t been killed, with all the people looking for him, Erasmus might not be able to make it to the rendezvous point. The fact that he hadn’t heard about a body being found gave Dellromoz hope that Erasmus had made it, but it also meant people were still looking for him.

Dell shook his head. Think about something else. Worrying about him doesn’t do any good, either he’ll show up or he won’t. He picked up a stick and poked at the fire. Watching the logs blacken in the flames brought to mind his other problem, the one he’d been avoiding thinking about since he left Drumlummon. What happened back there? He held his hand up in front of the fire and flexed his fingers. He didn’t feel any different. What would a fiery ash creature feel like? Warm? Dry? Unafraid, surely. He wasn’t any of those right now.

He remembered being in the burning building and the way the heat had felt. It wasn’t painful or threatening, if anything it felt comfortable. Welcoming, even. He’d probably have enjoyed it if he wasn’t afraid the Goswin outfit was going to kill him at any moment. Dellromoz extended his index finger and slowly reached toward the fire, trying to see how close he could get before it hurt. Closer... closer...

The tip of his finger nudged into the fire, the flames parting around it. He pulled it back and stared at his fingertip, which was unharmed. He frowned thoughtfully. It didn’t hurt, but there was something more than that, something that he had felt in himself for just a moment...

A twig cracked in the darkness outside the reach of his campfire. Dell snapped his head around and stared out into the darkness. He couldn’t see anything, so he focused on what he could hear. A dried leaf crunched in the gloom.

“Erasmus,” he called, “is that you out there?”

Bushes rustled in another direction.

“Is someone there...” Dell murmured. He stood up cautiously, grasping a sturdy branch from his woodpile in one hand, and squinted out into the night while keeping the fire at his back.

“What do we have here?” Dellromoz turned again and watched as a large man with a scruffy beard and a sneering grin stepped out of the dark. He had a sap on one hand, and a coiled length of rope over his shoulder. “Are you lost?” he asked, though the concern in his voice was obviously feigned.

“Looks like a little lost lamb, Fletcher.” A goblin stepped into the firelight on the other side of the camp. He was about the same height as Dellromoz, but with a jutting nose, green skin, and a voice that was surprisingly deep. A golden ring gleamed in the firelight beneath one of his long ears, and he picked at a bit of dirt underneath one of his nails with a dagger.

Dell stepped back from them, preparing to turn and bolt into the night, but a voice directly behind him asked, “You’re not running off, are you?” He spun around and saw a heavyset human woman with gray hair and a loaded crossbow. “Cute as a button, you are,” she smiled smugly, “why don’t you keep us company for a while?”

A little while later, Dellromoz found himself on the canal again, though this time he was bound and gagged. The bandits had gone through his belongings, as well as the things he was holding for Erasmus. They took all the coins, and a few small pieces of jewelry, and put them in a pouch to be divided up later. Then they gathered up everything else, including the horses, and put it all on a barge heading downstream. The big man picked Dell up, deposited him in an empty crate, and slammed a lid on it. So much for trying to signal other barges, Dellromoz thought glumly, as he peeked out through a knothole. He briefly considered if he should try and trigger his strange transformation again, but decided not to. In the best case scenario, he’d end up naked in the woods with all of his things either burnt up or on the bottom of the canal, and in the worst he’d burn through the bottom of the boat and drown himself, or maybe just get shot by that woman with the crossbow. His flesh didn’t seem to burn anymore, but nothing suggested it was anymore resistant to a crossbow bolt than it had been previously.

As the Albi ran through a swampy lowland, the bandits brought their tow horse aboard and turned off the main channel. They poled the barge between the treetrunks that grew out of the dark waters as they ducked under low-hanging branches draped with with old man’s beard. The horses fidgeted nervously. Dellromoz strained at the knots around his wrist while he listened to Fletcher and the woman pushing the vessel through the marsh, interspersed with unfamiliar animal calls.

“What’s that, Annie?” Fletcher growled.

The woman looked out over the back of the barge. “What’s what?” She reached for her crossbow.

“Thought I saw something over there...” Fletcher pointed with a calloused finger.

“I don’t see anything,” Annie concluded after a few moments spent glaring out into the shadows, “but Burdock, keep sharp. Might be that damn hodag.” The goblin shuddered and checked that his dagger was still firmly in the sheathe on his belt.

Eventually, Dell began to hear other voices in the distance. He peered through the knothole again and saw a couple of lanterns off the port side of the barge, but they weren’t close. He tried to shift around and see where they were going, but the gaps between the planks of the crate were too small. He’d finally given up and resigned himself to waiting when someone raised their voice to greet his captors.

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“Is that Sharp Annie? And Fletcher too! As I live and breathe!”

“Hollis, how are you tonight?”

“Not dead or in prison, so pretty damn good. Burdock, you still running with these scoundrels?”

“Good help is hard to find, an I just got ‘em trained up the way I like.” The goblin replied.

“Hah! Good on ya,” Hollis laughed, “getting into the horse trading game?”

“They’re good horses, sure enough, but my grandfather just passed and left them to me, so I couldn’t possibly let them go.” said Annie.

“Oh, don’t give me that shit! You said that about that ox last winter, and the boat last summer! Quit trying to drive the price up and just tell me how much you want for them!” growled Hollis.

Dellromoz started to feel indignant as he listened to Annie negotiate the price for the horses they’d taken from him, but then he remembered how he’d come by said horses in the first place. Easy come, easy go. What they talked about next was far more concerning.

“Did you hear that the Goswin outfit is looking for a gnome?” asked Hollis.

“Just any gnomes? I could fill a sack without too much trouble, what’s he paying a head?” Fletcher inquired.

“Nah, a particular one. I got a few handbills around here...” A door slammed, and Dell winced as he heard crates being shifted and empty bottles knocked over.

“You stay quiet in there dearie,” whispered Sharp Annie, “or I’ll skin you alive and feed you to a muskrat.” Dellromoz kept his mouth shut.

“Here, got a picture of him an’ everything,” Hollis muttered as he came back, “doesn’t say why they want him, just that they want him alive. I wouldn’t mind catching the little fella myself, just to see what’s going on.”

“He’s gotta have information on something pretty valuable if they’re looking for him all the way out here.” remarked Fletcher.

“Doesn’t say,” replied Hollis, “but I did hear about something like that a few years back. Some burglar got lucky on a job in Ostron, gave his crew the slip, then set off for Lodai with a ruby the size of your eyeball.”

“He must have bought the whole city when he got there!” cried Annie.

“He didn’t get there, but I heard the pirate captain that caught him bought himself a new ship, and a harbor to keep it in.” said Hollis, a trace of envy in his voice. “Keep your eyes out is all I’m sayin’, and if you find him, maybe spare a thought for this old man when you collect your finder’s fee?”

“We’ll let you know if we see anything Hollis,” Annie replied, “we wouldn’t dream of cheatin’ you.”

Hollis snorted. “I don’t do business with the kind of people who wouldn’t dream of cheatin’ me. I’m just asking that you only dream about it instead of actually doing it. Comin’ in for a drink? Been quite a bit of traffic tonight, you never know who might stop by.”

“Who’s buyin’?” asked Fletcher.

“Better be Annie after what she took me for on those horses.” grumbled Hollis.

“I can buy a round, but one of you is drinking it out here. Not that I don’t trust our host, but you never know who might happen by.” Dellromoz could picture the friendly, if disingenuous, smile on Sharp Annie’s face.

“I can keep watch,” rumbled Burdock in his gravelly voice, “just bring me a beer.”

Dell tried to get a peek at Hollis’s place between the planks of his crate, but they were too closely spaced. He shifted around a bit looking for a comfortable position as Fletcher, Annie, & Hollis tromped up the dock. As their footsteps receded, Burdock kicked the wooden planks Dell was leaning against.

“Quit moving, and don’t make any noise,” the goblin muttered, “I solve problems by slitting throats, so don’t make me think you’re a problem.”

Less vindictive than Sharp Annie, I guess. Dell thought. Better to be killed by him if it comes to it. Somehow though, his heart wasn’t in it. Bad situation or not, he’d honestly been in worse by now. He smirked at the thought. Damn skeletal fool rubbed off on me.

“Why they lettin’ us go, boss?” Agulf asked as he and his brother lumbered down the dank hallway, following Fulcher Goswin and the guard escorting them out.

“Siger leaned on a couple of nobles who like to gamble in our establishments, but aren't real good at it. Bribed a couple others we're on friendly terms with," Goswin listed off the reasons, "and that lawyer we pay all that money to finally had to earn it. Essentially, it's too much of a pain in the ass to keep us."

"Pain's a good motivator," Agulf nodded approvingly, "always worked out well for us."

"They did have a condition: if we catch the gnome, we're supposed to turn him over to that Captain Lexington asshole. I agreed, so long as they promised to kill him and let me watch." Fulcher continued. "They said that wouldn't present any difficulties." The gangster viciously. “So how did you two spend your time as guests of His Majesty?”

“Rolling the bones, bit of backgammon. There was a bard in there with a couple of good stories, if you had something to trade.” said Aldegarde.

“Couple fights, some arm wrestlin'” grunted Agulf.

“What did you trade for the stories? I didn’t think they were lettin’ you take visitors, and they seized all our things.”

“Couple boys didn’t know they was gonna be in a fight.” Agulf elaborated. “Did well settling other folks’ accounts.”

Fulcher smirked as they stepped out into the sunlight for the first time in weeks. His eyes watered at the harsh light, and he shielded them with his hand. Aldegarde and Agulf stepped in front of him, protecting him from both the light and any enemies who might have waiting for him. Fulcher gave an appreciative glance up at the brothers. Loyalty like that couldn’t be bought.

“Boss!” A man with a shaved head standing next to a cab waved. Fulcher and the ogre walked over to meet him. “How was His Majesty’s hospitality?”

“Worth about what I paid for it,” Fulcher replied, “I’d kill a man for a hot bath and a decent meal right now. You can catch me up on the way to...” He frowned. “Actually, Siger, where are we going? “

“I bought out The Soldier’s Arms; we needed somewhere to run business out of, and Gismunda’s wasn’t working out. Our boys were too distracted, and they kept scaring off the house’s customers.”

“It was good of her to put us up in the meantime, remind me to do something nice for her.”

Siger nodded. “I’m sure she’ll have a couple of ideas regarding her monthly payments.”

“I’m sure.” Fulcher remarked dryly.

“What’s wrong with you boys?!” came a powerful shout.

“Do you two just live to break your mothers’ heart?!” another voice demanded.

Fulcher and Siger turned to see an angry ogress stomping up to Aldegarde and Agulf, who both looked sheepish. Both of the ogress' heads had graying hair and aggrieved scowls on their faces, and they wore a sturdy ankle-length dress of green wool and brown canvas. They stormed up to Fulcher’s enforcer and cuffed each of the brothers upside the head.

“We’re sorry, Momma Avice, Momma Agatha!” cried Aldegarde, wincing as he held a hand up to his stinging ear.

“Was doin’ a good thing, Mommas!” Agulf protested. “Little git’s a menace to the community.”

“Is that how you ended up in the stockade? Did they lock you up for being an excessively public-minded ogre?!” Momma Avice poked the brothers in the chest with her finger.

“No...” Agulf admitted.

“What would your fathers say if they could see you two now? Worrying us half to death after we carried you the length of the High March on our back, then raised you in an unfamiliar city by ourselves!” chastised Momma Agatha, her eyes watery.

“Now Mommas, you know we’re doing the best we can,” Aldegarde insisted, “not many folks want to give work to our kind, and when they do, it’s dangerous and doesn’t pay well. Mr. Goswin’s been good to us, better than he had to be. We’re proud he counts on us to watch his back and help handle his business.” The ogress began to weep openly, so Aldegarde and Agulf wrapped their mothers up in an embrace.

“You can’t blame mothers for worrying about their sons,” said Momma Avice through her tears, “not when you’re all the family we got left.”

Fulcher and Siger decided to let the little family have some time and set off in the cab, happy to have avoided the ogress’ wrath.

“So I’ve been doing cleanup and trying to get everything we can operating, but it’s good to have you back at the helm. Where are we going from here?” asked Siger.

“We’re going to hold on to what’s ours, our enemies can smell blood and we’re definitely wounded,” Fulcher listed out their tasks on his fingers, “we’ll need to take appropriate steps and be ready for any attempts to move in on our territory. We need to get started rebuilding what we’ve lost. And we’re going to find that damn gnome.”