“What is it you think the bones do?” Alastair asked.

“I’m still not quite sure, but I think it’s something like ‘let your guard down for a turn then get a guaranteed critical hit or amplified attack. I’m not sure how the game defines the differences between them.”

“That makes sense from what I saw,” he pushed open the door to the prison tavern. “I’ll tell Horace about…”

“You’ll tell me what, little one?” Horace said, coming out of the kitchen. “How excited are you to mop my kitchen again?”

“Well, of course, that. But also that we got assaulted by thugs a couple of streets over.”

“Ah, not again. It looks like maybe you got the better of them, though. Well, I better go get Rudolf.” He started for the door they walked through, then waited. “There. I was starting to get the mid-meal ready. {Mid-meal is just the leftover bread from Dinner and watery tepid tea, which is why it only costs half a coin. No, I don’t know how they split the coins in half here.} Help yourself to that or a beer to calm your nerves, if you want to.” He started before stopping again, “You didn’t happen to take anything from the thugs?”

“Just a knife, which we threw in the river. Should we have not taken anything?”

“Just be prepared to turn it over to the Warden. Don’t want you to get pegged as thieves, especially you,” he said, pointing to Alastair, “with that silly expression.” Horace left again, but seeing as it wasn’t far to the pier shack, they expected he would return soon.

“Do we need to get rid of these knives?”

“Probably, let’s at least put them in the kitchen somewhere so that we can get them later and they aren’t on us if we get shaken down.”

Together they went into the kitchen. “Tea?” asked Alastair.

“Beer. And tea.”

“I’ll pull the beer if you want to make the tea.”

“Sure.” Flor moved over to the pot and then blanked out as if entering her interface.

Strange. I wouldn’t think making tea was a mini-game. Perhaps it is like the food prep nonogram. Hopefully, she’s not out of it for an hour. Approximately ten minutes later, though, Flor woke from her stare and had a large kettle and several cups. They entered the common room to find Rudolf, Horace, and pier hand 2 waiting for them.

The warden motioned for them to sit but he remained standing.

“I’ve been told you were mugged. Which is odd, because even if I hadn’t released you this morning, I could tell you are destitute with nothing for it.”

“Yes, they said they would teach us a lesson for being poor.”

“I haven’t asked you a question, yet. That standard remains: don’t speak unless I ask you a question. Now, Rudolf also said you took a knife off the thugs, but threw it in the river. That should have been turned over as evidence. Now, where was this mugging?”

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“A couple of streets over, between here and the Released Prisoner’s Guildhall.”

“We will check it out.” The warden turned to the pier hand and nodded. He turned back to Flor. “Are you sure you don’t want to turn anything else over? Theft is a crime we take seriously here.” Flor just shook her head no, which the warden accepted. “Well, nothing for that. If these thugs are still there…how many did you say there were again?”

Flor held up three fingers.

“Three, huh? I have a hard time believing you defended yourself from three thugs. But I’ve been surprised by you released prisoners before.”

Alastair had to hold himself back from interjecting that Flor had many talents.

Pier hand 1 showed up at the door, scanning wildly for the warden, before running over and whispering something in his ear. The warden perked up, then quickly said. “Well, nothing more to it, I guess. I’ll keep an eye on you and send one of the pier hands over if anything unusual comes up.” He left quickly, pier hand 1 on his heels.

“That was a hasty exit if I’ve seen one.”

“The warden isn’t known for such excitability,” said Horace. “Well, good job with those those thugs. If they are where you said they are, you may get a bounty. Not much, but a couple of coins each.”

“Better than nothing,” Flor said.

“Before I send you to mop, how was the Guild?”

Alastair could tell that Flor wanted to say something rude, so he said, “Adequate. We’ll start as muckers bright and early tomorrow morning. Speaking of which, how do we get to the Mucker Department?”

“I’ll draw you a map, but generally down by the warehouse district. It should take you about ten minutes to get there in the morning. Maybe twenty with your small legs. You can take a spare serving of bread tonight to avoid waking me for something before you go.”

“So generous of you. Now, about that mop.”

Alastair and Flor went into the kitchen. Alastair began preparing his favorite mop again when they heard a commotion in the common room.

“Want to check while I finish up what I’ve started?”

“Yes, dear,” said Flor, getting up from the floor where she had started to pet Dax.

Alastair began singing as she left. “♩Mop, mop, mop, all day long. Mop, mop, mop while I sing this song♬. ” {This is the start of “The Beating of a High School Janitor” by Adam Sandler.} He finished plopping the mop down and giving it a little swish when Flor returned.

“You’ll have to finish mopping later. There is a call to arms.”

“Of course there is.”

Together they went back into the common room. The warden was pacing back and forth with both pier hands standing alertly by the door. As he paced, several other released prisoners began to trickle down the stairs, some taking seats and others standing around. After a few moments, Horace walked back down the stairs.

“This is all of them.”

Rudolf stopped pacing, turning to all of the releasees, which was more than Alastair had thought, even though it made sense that it wouldn’t be only those released this morning staying at the prison tavern.

“Where you have been previously released to do various good work, one of the conditions of your release is that you would be available to assist with emergencies. I tell you now that this is truly an emergency most dire.”

A murmur rose from the crowd.

“Well what is it?!” someone called.

“Earthquake?”

“Evil magicians?”

“Sea monster…s?”

“We’re on land, you numskull.”

“Pirates?

The warden didn’t repress the calls, although he motioned for quiet. “The Mayoral procession, which you may be reminded traveled to the Lord’s keep earlier today, was expected to return two hours ago. It has not, and we are pressed into service as a search party.”

The murmur went up again.

“I’m working on an important project.”

“Me too.”

“These streets won’t de-muck themselves,” Alastair called.

“Now, yes. I understand your concerns. As this is a city function supporting the mayor, your normal wage-earning responsibilities will be put on hold, and you will receive a normal stipend to cover the lodging and meals here. There is no time for questions. We are pressed to travel to the east gate by the fastest means. You have three minutes to gather items you want from your rooms, and Horace will be keeping track of those who don’t return promptly.”

Flor leaned over to Alastair, “Knives?” He nodded. She slipped into the kitchen and returned a moment later. “I’ll give it to you later.” He nodded again and together they walked toward the front door to await the search party.