"I am very sorry, my new friends, but I can't take less than 50 gold each for these fine horses. I am taking them to the monthly market in Hurlsford, where I can surely receive a fair price of over 75 gold each. Look at those legs! They go all the way to the ground with a lovely white stocking around each one. You don't find elven-bred quarter horses this side of the mountains! It was a stroke of luck that I was in a position to aid Lady Glitterluck and be rewarded with them. It pains me to think about letting them go, but I am a horse trader, not a horse-keeper." Gili Moonface shook his head sadly, obviously wanting to make a deal but unwilling to budge on the price further.

"Look, mate, I understand you need to make a profit but are you considering the state of the roads? A horse might break a leg or pull a muscle or something, and then you're out all your profit. Hurlsford is still a good two days ride, and slower if you walk these horses over a bad road. And bandits! Think of the bandits! You could lose everything, including those fine horses. Things are getting rougher down that way. We've got a total of 187 gold on us. You saw us empty our pockets. We're only paying this much because we're desperate. We need to get to Thunderhead in the next two days to accomplish the next part of our quest."

Gili, the horse trader, looked again at the four foot-sore mercenaries. The one talking, Thorton Warborn, was a strapping young man in mismatched armor. A strange group accompanied him. A priestess of the hearth goddess, Hestia, a tall barbarian dressed all in black with far too many knives, and a dwarf with a twitchy eye that was holding his hammer tightly in his hands. It occurred to Gili that taking their offer wasn't a bad idea. "Tell you what? How about I accept your offer, and each of you gives me some small trinkets to even things up? A knife, a blessing from Hestia, some iron rations? I can't take less than 50 each, but I can overvalue your trade-ins. It's part of my religion. I can't short-change myself, or I lose Ekwensu's blessing."

"One of my knives? Never."

The dwarf tossed over some iron rations and glared at the barbarian. "Damn you, Silentpanther, hand over a knife. You have 38 of the things, and you never throw more than seven in any fight. I'm nearly out of whiskey, and the shakes are getting bad."

The barbarian sneered. "I told you not to take alcoholic as a trait, Derek. Sure, you got two Toughness points from it and can drink all night long, but you're useless without a bottle. That's half the reason we're almost broke."

The dwarf stamped his foot and glared. "My name is Beerbandit, Tommy, and either hand over a knife, or I'll kick your ass as soon as we get to Hurlsford and get out of these pods."

Aubrey quickly blessed Gili and handed over her share of the money. "Come, friends. Let's make haste to close the deal and ride to the town. As a cleric, I feel we must respect this man's religion. He is obviously working with us the best that he can. I'll buy Silent another knife as soon as we get some treasure exploring the Lost Mine of Olaf Goateater, and we can do the next part of our quest."

The others glared at the barbarian until he handed over a knife. Thorton took a half-used jar of boot grease and added it to the pile. Gili put his hands over the money and objects. "May Ekwensu bless this transaction and give you all luck upon the road." He quickly gathered the money, stowed the items in a bag on his mule, and mounted up. "It was nice meeting you all. I'm going to be on my way. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to make it to the inn at Breed's River Crossing by tonight. I'll spend a few days there since I don't have to risk bandits going to Hurlsford. Look me up if you head back that way. There's a local seamstress that I may spend some time with, but after that, perhaps our roads come together. We can eat dinner together, my treat." He waved again and rode off.

Thorton helped the dwarf mount his horse, and the four took off down the road. It was a little uncomfortable with just hackamores and blankets, but they would make much better time even going slowly. Ten miles up the road, they crested a hill and saw a carriage sitting in the middle of the road with several people standing around. It was a half-mile away, but Thorton had a good, gnomish-made spyglass on him just for such occasions. "Doesn't look like an ambush. I see an older man in Noble's clothing, four guards, and a woman in a red dress. It looks like they have a camp there."

Aubrey smiled. "Travelers in distress. I bet it's the start of another quest or maybe even part of the one we are doing now. Let's go talk to them."

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Beerbandit kicked his horse and nearly fell off. "And maybe they have a spare bottle to share with a thirsty traveler."

Near the small camp, one of Lord Bellshire's guards noticed the party coming their way. He approached the Lord carefully. His Lordship was in a foul mood after the theft of their horses. One of the grooms they had recently hired had absconded with them during the night. Both guards on duty had been found deeply asleep and drunk, with whiskey on their breath. The two hungover guards and the remaining groom had been sent trudging back to town to buy more horses. "M'lord, you have good eyes and a keen appreciation of horses. What do you think of the mounts this party is riding?"

Bellshire snorted but then grew amused. "Thank you for asking, Milford. They look amazingly like the team of horses that were stolen last night. Four matching steeds with chestnut coats and white socks. I'd say the odds of there being two sets on this road were poor—brass balls on those people to try and ride our own horses right past us. Let's reward their little charade with one of our own. Stay friendly until you can grab the reins or knock them off the mounts."

As the adventuring party approached, they were greeted by the noble. "Welcome, travelers. We were sitting down to a roast chicken for lunch and a bottle of wine. Care to join us."

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Far up the road and nowhere near the Inn at Breed's River, McTeeth turned off the road to take a small path through the forest. This should put him near Sedgewick if he took it north. Better to spend a few more hours on the road than to deal with upset players. Lord Bellshire had a bad reputation when it came to dealing with thieves. That was one of the reasons he hadn't been able to resist hiring on as a groom and relieving them of their fine team of horses. He really had given those adventurers a good deal. He had planned to sell that team in Hurlsford for over 300 gold. But there was nothing Ekwensu liked better than a transaction like that. The favor of a god of luck was better than gold any day.

The trip had been profitable in many ways. He had news for the Baron and had set up contacts in three towns to gather information for him. Every town had people looking to make a few coins; you just knew where to look. And he had made a tidy sum for himself along the way. Money that he didn't have to split with anyone. He didn't even have to pay the little thieves' guilds he had found in Hurlsford, Shropshire, and Thunderhead. At level 13, he was a higher-level thief than anyone in those guilds. It was frustrating that there wasn't a good guild nearby. He'd heard that the mayor could pay for upgrades for the town, but that was tricky. He and Suzette weren't on the best terms, and she was a little sensitive about thieves. His next trip would take him down to Northguard. He'd heard it was a hellhole of a town, which gave him hope of finding a guild where he could get some unique skills that weren't in the main thieves' guild in the capital.

He and his mule got to Sedgewick a day and a night later. He stabled the mule, put his gold in the bank, and headed for a meeting with the Baron. He was tired after two days without sleep and wanted a bath. He hurried across the courtyard with the creepy statue, heading for the ACME building. A slight noise alerted him to a giant hand trying to grab him, and he ducked aside. Unfortunately, his dodge had been anticipated, and he was grabbed by the statue's other hand.

"My, my. What have we here? It looks like the little thief who was supposed to be working on my castle. Those traps won't test themselves, you know. Your replacements aren't half as crafty as you."

Mcteeth cursed himself for his carelessness. "Yep, and I was heading over that way. Got to get to work on those traps."

"You lie. I smell the sour smell of travel and mule upon you. You snuck off for a vacation and are now back to talk to my Baron. If I throw you hard enough, can I hit the door to the castle? It's worth a try."

"NO! I'm working for your Baron. Secret mission stuff. I've been spying on the other towns, their rulers, and the other corporations. He really needs me for this."

"Surely he has a group of spies and can spare you? Think of the traps? They need calibrating."

"Sorry, I'll try to get back to them as soon as I hire some more guys, train them, and set up an information network. I'm sure you understand."

The statue looked at him with beady eyes. "Oh, you have no idea how much I understand." It opened its mouth, and Mcteeth screamed as it tossed him down its throat.