As they left the Inn and headset east towards the manse, utter darkness had fallen. The snowfall had subsided, but the wind picked up and howled against the leafless trees.

After ten minutes that felt like an eternity, and now not only cold but hungry and thirsty, they finally arrived at the gate. The gate was unlocked, but still served as a mighty deterrent with its intimidating twisted iron posts coming to sharp points at the top. Despite the weather, the posted torches along the winding path remained lit and seemed to ignore the wind.

Robard was curiously tapping various parts of the gate with his tongs, expecting that there might be a trap.

“Playing a fuckin’ song, are we?” Franclan quipped.

“No, Frac. I’m just checking for traps. If you’re so brave, why don’t you go ahead?”

Franclan started to open the gate. “Look, we’re here to offer our services. It’s not like we’re here to rob the place. I don’t think he’s gonna roast us for that. If he does, then he really is a dick.”

Franclan passed through the gate, then turned around and shrugged at Robard “What are you waiting for, come on.”

Robard whispered a quiet prayer then joined Franclan on the other side of the gate.

They made their way up the path to the manse, Franclan confidently leading the way. Robard occasionally turned around to make sure nobody was following them, and at times looked as if he might suddenly scream and run back towards the gate. Eventually he started polishing his rat catching tongs against his jacket and this seemed to keep his mind busy judging by the way his tongue jutted out from the side of his mouth.

They finally approached the main door of the manse. A large, wooden door with iron strapping, with massive torches on either side. The wind put forth a large gust, and like the torches below, the flames seemed unaffected. Robard noticed. “That’s some magical shit right there Franc, are you sure you want to do this? We can leave right now and nobody will ever know.”

“Cheap tricks, pal. Wizards aren’t real and neither is magic.” Franclan said as he pounded on the door.

In just a few short moments, they heard a rustling behind the door and saw the nob shake and finally twist open. As the door opened, they looked down to find a small creature struggling to reach high enough to open the door. “Hello, how may I help you?” the creature posited in a voice 2 octaves higher than a typical human.

“What the hell?” Franclan said under his breath. Robard stood wide-eyed staring down at the creature and grasping his tongs.

The creature stood only about two and half feet tall. Its limbs were stocky, ears pointy, and its entire body was covered with hair.

“Are you… Ignatius?” Robard asked?

“No, I am Glimmon. Ignatius is indisposed. What do you need?”

Franclan, trying to stay composed, repeated the same pitch he had given Agnes earlier that evening and ended by shoving Robard into the doorway.

Glimmon shook his head. “We don’t need any such services, and per the policy of Ignatius we never give charity. Please leave now.”

“Don’t be rude Glimmon, invite our guests in at least until they are warm.” a low, slow voice boomed from inside the manse.

“Did you hear him, you little asshole? Let us in.” Robard said to Glimmon

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As they entered the manse, they noticed that it was incredibly warm inside. Torch sconces illuminated the walls of the entryway which were exceptionally tall, nearly twice the height of a man.

Ignatius appeared by the door, a tall, thin imposing man nearly 7 feet tall. He had long hair, an even longer beard and wore robes of orange and red. Above his head the air seemed to wave about, as if he was emitting heat.

Ignatius led them down the entranceway and into what looked to be a study of sorts. Tall, thin shelves lined the walls. Upon the shelves to the right were several jars containing various mutated and deformed beings suspended in a yellow liquid. On the left, the shelves contained books with cryptic writing that neither Franclan nor Robard could understand. Straight ahead was an immaculate stone fireplace with a fire raging inside. He instructed them to sit, and so did he. “Glimmon! Bring us tea at once!”

Franclan and Robard were aware of how creepy the place was and also of the fact that they could be poisoned by the tea or roasted by Ignatius at any moment, but the comfort of the heat and the warm tea in their bellies was too much of a draw to ignore.

Glimmon waddled back and served tea to his master, and set Franclan and Robard’s on the table in front of them.

Franclan and Robard sipped their tea and relaxed into their seats.

“Quite a cozy place you have here mister Ignatius!” Robard said.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Franclan added. “Ya know, the townsfolk got you all wrong. You’re not really an evil dickhead, you’re just kinda strange.”

Ignatius paused and after a moment, with a stone face said “Thank you, Franclan. How very kind of you." hiding his irritation.

Franclan's hunger reminded him why he had come. “Well, we’d love to stay and look at all of your weird shit, but actually came to offer our rat catching services in return for some firewood.”

Ignatius frowned at Franclan before promptly changing his expression to a sly smile. “If it’s firewood you seek, I have something that will surely interest you.” Ignatius pointed his long finger slowly towards the fireplace. “This log you see here is the Everlasting Log. It will never extinguish or burn out. It took me four years to craft it.”

Robard looked at the log with mouth and eyes wide open. “Gee Mister Ignatius, how many rats would we have to catch in exchange for that?”

“None.” Ignatius replied “All you need to do is defeat me in a spell duel.”

Franclan crossed his arms in front of his chest. “A spell duel? Yeah, well, uh, sorry to break it to you, sparky, but we don’t exactly keep spells in our back pocket. We’re rat catchers. If we could do magic we wouldn't be chasing rodents with tongs.”

“There is one other thing I would take in exchange for the Everlasting Log.” Ignatius said as he turned away from the fire to look at them. “A human soul.”

“A fucking human soul? You creepy bastard.” Franclan asked before looking at Robard and clapping his hands together as if he’d found a solution. “Well, sure, yeah, done. Have Robbard’s.”

Robard looked at Franclan, horrified and betrayed by his best and only friend.

Ignatius studied Robard, then moved his haze back to Franclan. “I think I’d prefer to take yours, Franclan!” Ignatius threw his head back and let out a wicked laugh before chanting esoteric syllables and moving his hands, starting to cast a spell.

Franclan froze in terror, thoughts racing through his head of what Ignatius might do to torment his soul.

Just as Ignatius uttered his final syllable and sent a fiery white spell towards Franclan, Robard leapt in front of Franclan with his steel, freshly-polished rat-catching tongs equipped. “He’s my best friend and you can’t have him you bastard!” Robard shouted as the spell hit his tongs, reflected back at Ignatius, stunning and temporarily blinding him.

Franclan, realizing that he wasn’t roasted and his soul was still intact, slowly recovered his posture. Robard, using his versatile tongs, snatched the Everlasting Log out of the fireplace, and then they both ran for the front door.

Just as they breached the threshold into the entryway, a loud screech of “Yahhh!” proceeded Glimmon as he pounced onto Franclan’s back and sunk his teeth into his shoulder.

“Get off me you little bastard!” Franclan shouted as he swung his arms over his back, trying to land a blow on Glimmon.

As they neared the door, Franclan slipped on the entryway rug, spilling forward and launching Glimmon into the air and smacking into the wall with a squeak.

“Come on Frac, get up!” Robard said as he stood outside the doorway, still holding the burning log with his tongs.

“I’m coming, buddy!” Franclan replied. “We’re going straight to the Inn to show those cowards how well we’ve made out!”