Like most things, the hidden parts of the potion shop was much more interesting than its front. The arranged rows of potions, held in shelves and cupboards. The messy, yet still organized workshop where wards are self-made. The potion master's workshop, where hard work and luck meet.

  Such was the gist of the impromptu tour Brier imposed on me as soon as we went to the back. I tried several times to interject, but it was futile. In a way, it impressed me. He loved making potions and everything about it.

  Fortunately, his tour had to end, as we sat down in his office. His passion ebbed away as he remembered why I was before him.

  “So, the request,” I said flatly.

  “Yes, yes. I’ll get to it.” He got off his chair and took a stool to a nearby rack, where several rolls of paper lay. But even with the stool, he was a finger or two shy away from the scroll he wanted. 

  “Need some help?” I asked, which earned me a glare.

  “I can reach it,” Brier said. “Just need to…jump!”

  And he did, managing to grab the one he wanted, but landing a bit too hard on an arm. After some curses and mutterings of needing a taller stool, he walked over to his desk. He spread the roll of paper he had, revealing a map. Noticing his intent, I got up and walked over, taking a closer look at what was on hand.

  “This is a recent map of the local region, from five years ago or so.” He pointed at the date inscribed right under the region name the map described. “The towns, the villages, the local sights.” His hand brushed over the map in a sweeping manner, stopping at a small dot near the bottom-right corner of the map. “And we’re currently here, at Chance Village.

  “Now, I need you to get something for me from a shrine not far from here, around this area.” Brier made small circle south-west to where Roullac was. “Based on the information I’ve gathered, what you’re looking for is going to be a small statue or idol. It’s going to be roughly this size.” Brier indicated to a thing that was the length of his forearm. “You don’t want it to touch your skin, so keep that in mind.”

  “A cursed object?.” I remarked. “That’ll cost you.”

  “Noted,” Brier said, ”Now, I’m going to give an advance payment in the form of potions, with the other half being-”

  “No. Potions.” I slammed my hands down on the table. “Give me money now or I’m leaving.” 

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  “ALRIGHT, FINE.” Brier threw his hands up in defeat. “You’ll have your money, but only half for now.”

  As I considered things, I made the mistake of catching sight of Brier’s eyes. They were pinprick-like, but black as ink, giving the impression of a goblin biding his time. Not wanting to push my luck, I cleared my throat and nodded, to Brier’s audible relief.  He took out his coin-purse and took out coin by coin, separating them into two distinct rows. 

  Five silvers and seven bronzes in all. At a glance, very generous, but with how dangerous the forest was, I’d say I’ll be spending a fair bit of it in advance. I swept the coins into my own coin-purse, making sure to avoid Brier’s gaze as I did so.

  “Now, is there anything else you want to ask about?” Brier asked.

  “Well, yes. I’d like to ask about what the shrine might look like so I don’t loot the wrong ruin.” I said. “I also would like some scraps of paper and something to draw with?”

  “Uh, I guess.” Brier got off his chair and left the room, leaving me free to muse over the coincidences so far. One random village girl wanting a small statue from a forgotten shrine is nothing. One well-off potion-maker wanting a small statue from a forgotten shrine is something.

  I got out in time to see a very confusing sight. There was Brier, lying down on the floor with a sheaf of paper on hand, bloodied all over. On the other side of the room was the saleswoman, crying and holding a bloody knife.  

  With light steps, I made my way to Brier and knelt down, putting my hand near his mouth and nose. He still breathed, to my luck. I then checked his body to see where if there were any wounds, only to find none. Keeping an eye on the saleswoman from the corner of my eye, I made a decision.

  “You. Did you do this?” I asked calmly. “Did you stab Brier?”

  “NO!” The saleswoman wailed, crying even harder. “I COULDN’T HAVE! He's always good to me! How dare you!?”

  “Then why are you holding a bloody knife?” I said, trying my best to wipe off some of the blood on Brier. “You know how this looks like, right?”

  “I-” The saleswoman tried to speak, but began crying again instead. “It’s not me. Please, I didn’t kill my husband.”

  “He’s your husband?” I said out loud. “Wait, never mind. That changes very little to how this plays out. Now answer me: Did you kill your husband?” 

  “NO!” The saleswoman shouted. “I was making dinner for him when I heard him shout. He liked meatloaf.” I nodded as I agreed with Brier’s taste, while also thinking of how to move him . Attempts to outright lift him and carry him like a barrel had limited success, so

  “Alright. I'll trust you for now.” I said while looping my arms over his shoulders. ”Your husband’s still alive, but he’s weak. Help me get him onto his bed or something.” The saleswoman nodded as she gingerly placed her bloody knife on a nearby shelf. After some awkward positions, both of us managed to drag Brier away.

  When we reached Brier’s bedroom door, the saleswoman thanked me and attended to her husband. With not much reason to stick around, I left, grabbing a few potions along the way. Suffice to say, things got a lot more interesting than I bargained for.