“I’m going to the dungeon,” announces Theo on the morning of our last day at the inn.

“I’m going to talk to the Merchant’s Guild about finding a stall spot. I’ve got a few things to sell, and that should give me—us—some seed money.” Marika sounds chipper today.

The guards, Tyler, Andrew and Caine, have already found accommodations with the Watchmen’s Guild. Apparently their members can bunk in dorms as long as their dues are paid. My understanding is that they’re going to work under Marika, guarding her stall and hopefully her store when she opens one. Maybe they’ll freelance too. Now that she’s safe in a new country I guess she doesn’t need full time bodyguards.

“What are you going to do, Ellie?” asks Marika after Theo has left.

I shrug. “Dunno.” I am glad that the dwarf’s speaking stone doesn’t transmit tone, because I am bummed. “What can I do?”

“Well, you could come with me, but…” Marika seems fidgety, and I save her the trouble and embarrassment of telling me I’d be an eyesore.

“It’s ok. You know what? I’m gonna get some clothes. I feel naked like this.”

“You mostly are,” says Marika with a grin. Then she sobers up a bit. “Look, Ellie. I imagine that to you it all looks pretty bleak. But I promise something will work out. Oh, I’m sorry.” She moves aside as the maid of the day starts cleaning our room now that we’re vacating it. “But really, there’ll be something for you. Here.”

Two gold coins fall into my hand. I tuck them away. “What’s that for?”

“Payment for guarding us on the way here,” says Marika.

“But I’m not in the Watchmen’s Guild,” I say, and I can tell that Marika picked up on my cynicism.

“You also weren’t working in town, so to hell with them.” The finality in her tone tells me I better not argue. I grin instead. “Put them in this. Now, go on out there and find yourself a nice evening gown, or whatever it is that the fashionable lady trolls wears these days.” I tie the strings of the pouch she’s given me to my bandolier and step out.

Outside the city still smells, but it’s tolerable. The day isn’t hot, which helps. So many people! They jostle each other at narrow spots but I am mercifully given a wide berth. Stares and glares are thrown at me, but I could not care less. I’m still a little mopey about the guild thing.

Without a map it’s not easy to navigate the town. Apparently the dungeon entrance at the Adventurer’s Guild is the major landmark, and everything radiates around it. There’s no rhyme or reason that I can figure out. I was hoping there was something like a shopping district that I could wander, but most people seem to live above their businesses and so they are scattered all over.

The one thing that really surprises me is that other than some shocked stares and sudden movements, nobody treats me like a monster. Is it normal to have trolls wander around? It’s probably the bandolier and the pouch slung over my shoulders, though. Trolls are one thing; trolls wearing, well, anything is probably different.

“Excuse me,” I say to someone wearing a guard uniform. He tenses, then sees my words. “Could you please—“

“Heard of you,” says the guard in a gruff tone. “Handing out illegal potions, or some such.”

My shoulders sag. “Yeah, that’s me. But I’m just looking for directions, honestly. Where can I find a seamstress?”

The guard laughs. “No seamstress is going to work with you. A troll in a dress! Ha! Try a leatherworker or something.” He points down a road. “That way, five minutes walk. Look for the tanned hide if you can’t read.”

I can but that’s still helpful. I thank him and move on. People move out of my way and I walk past them without making eye contact.

I feel like I should be more worked up than I am. But here I am, healthy and alive and with actual friends! Being blacklisted from the guilds is a pain, sure, but it could be so much worse.

I find the leatherworker’s shop easily. There’s a sign with a picture of a tanned hide, like a bear skin rug, and the words ‘Ashley’s Hides and Leathers’ on it. There’s no door, so I stick my head in.

Once again I am assaulted with horrible smells. Apparently tanning hides is stinky business. There’s a few people inside all working on scraping hides and other things. At the counter, which is made up of artistically arranged bones, there’s a woman wearing heavy gloves and a long apron made of black leather. She’s arguing with a man in a breastplate carrying a spear.

“I keep telling you, Jules, we can’t process that thing right now!” says the woman in a raised voice.

“Ash, be reasonable! It’s a stone ogre! It’ll make some awesome armour! I’ll sell you whatever’s left after you fix me up some pants and a jerkin! I can’t be wearing this thing all the time!” The man bangs his knuckles against the breastplate. “It’s so damned heavy!”

“I’d need mithril to process that hide, Jules! Stone ogres are tough! You had to use magic to kill it, didn’t you? I know that spear of yours isn’t up to the task.”

“I’ll just leave it here for now. I need the space in my storage ring.”

“Don’t you dare—“

Before the woman, who I assume is the Ashley on the sign, can protest further, the man does something with his hand and a giant humanoid figure appears. It falls from waist height with a massive crash and everyone turns to look.

“Jules, get that stinking thing out of here! I told you, I can’t process it!”

“Sorry, Ash! Gotta get back into the dungeon! Team’s waiting for me!”

The man turns rapidly and sees me. His eyes narrow and he lifts his spear off his shoulder. Just what I need.

“Calm down, calm down! I’m not gonna start a fight!”

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My growls turn heads again, and the man reads my words slowly. He relaxes. “Some kind of talking troll? Cursed?”

“Something like that,” I say.

He shoulders his way past me, thumbing over his shoulder at the woman. “Good luck dealing with her. She’s stubborn as a mule. I know she has the tools to process that ogre!”

After he leaves, I carefully step up to the counter where the woman is trying to lift the corpse’s arm. She’s not getting anywhere with it. I reach out and lift it myself, and she jumps back. A knife appears in her hand. She’s fast and doesn’t smell very afraid, but she’s on guard.

“Who’re you then?” she says, glaring at me.

“Ellie,” I say. “Got cursed so I look like this. I’d rather not talk any more about it. You need a hand carrying this?”

The woman looks me up and down and sticks out her hand. I shake it. “Ashley. Go by Ash most days. I run this shop. And yeah, if you don’t mind, let’s get this thing into the back, where I can store it in the cold room.”

The ogre is too big and heavy for me to lift properly, but I help Ash get it on a trolley and we drag it in. The cold room is exactly as it sounds. It’s a walk in freezer, basically, but I can’t see any machinery that might chill it. My gawking gets Ash’s attention, but for the wrong reason.

“Yeah, we’re a little slow right now. Otherwise this room would be full of high end monsters. I’m one of the best leatherworkers in town. Dwarves locked down their trading affairs, so I can’t get hands on the knives I need to process higher-end monster parts.”

“Oh! That might be changing soon,” I say.

“Yeah?” I can tell by her scent and her expression that she doesn’t believe me. “Anyway, what do you need?”

I explain that I want some clothes and what not, something so I don’t feel so naked. She listens carefully and nods.

“Yeah, I can make you some pants and a jacket. Likely you don’t want gloves or boots, huh? Hard to work around those claws of yours. But here’s the thing; I don’t know if I can help you. Anything I make right now is gonna be less tough than what you’re naturally wearing. I should know, I’ve tanned a few troll hides in my time. No offence.”

“None taken,” I say. “Is it the cost? I have this much.” I pull out my gold coins.

“No, it’s not the money, it’s the tools! My good knives are dull from too much use and not enough maintenance. I can’t process anything decent with these blades in the condition they’re in. Only dwarves can sharpen mithril and they ain’t trading.”

She shows me her knives. Some of them are steel, but others are a bluish metal that seems to tint itself different colours depending on how you tilt it. Those knives are apparently mithril.

“See? Normally a mithril skinning blade would be the right tool for this job, but…” Ash attempts to cut the ogre’s hide with the mithril knife, but it doesn’t pierce through. “And a steel blade is a waste of time.” She does the same thing with a regular knife, but the blade chips. I wince but she shakes her head. “Easy enough to sharpen that. It’s an apprentice’s blade anyway.”

Sharpen…

I get an idea. “Hey, Ash. What if I could sharpen your mithril knives for you? Would that be worth anything to you?”

“It’d be worth whatever you want from my stocks free of charge, but it’s impossible. Dwarven magic is what mithril needs.”

Well, I’m an honorary dwarf, but that’s not what I have in mind. I fish around in my mouth for a moment and find a tooth that feels a little loose. With a twist and a pop it’s out and I drop it in my bag. My alchemy sense tells me I have enough material to do what I want to do now. Ash watches but doesn’t seem to understand. I am not really surprised.

“Create a potent potion of sharpness.”

Glass on scales announces the arrival of my potion. This one is small, barely test tube sized, and it contains a clear liquid that sticks to the side of the glass like syrup. I tilt it back and forth and examine it with my Eyes of Alchemy.

Potent Oil of Sharpness

Okay, so not a potion. I kind of expected that. What good would a sharpness potion do to drink? Maybe it made you smarter? I start thinking about that, then shake my head. This is not the time, Ellie!

Now, to test it. I teach out for one of Ash’s knives and she pulls the bundle away.

“Forget it. These knives cost me a fortune! You grab one and run, and I’m out—“

“Okay then, you hold it. Just lemme… there we go.” I get the cap off the vial and nod expectantly at Ash. Reluctantly she holds the blade out and I do my thing.

The oil flows over the blade as if it has a life of its own. It covers every inch of it, then sinks in and disappears like lotion on dry skin. We watch and when it’s done, Ash looks underwhelmed. She lifts the knife and looks at it critically.

“That’s it? It’s not even—great gods in the sky!”

Ash swipes the blade down the flank of the dead stone ogre, and a huge cut opens in its hide. She goggles at it, and then at me, and then at the rest of her knives. “Can you…?”

“As long as you promise not to tell anyone how you got them sharpened. I mean it. I’m kind of persona non grata at the Alchemist’s Guild.”

“Yeah, you don’t smell nearly weird enough to be one of them. Got all your fingers, too.”

Five minutes and ten teeth later every single mithril knife Ash has is back in working order and she is merrily flaying the ogre’s corpse. Calling it grotesque is an understatement, but the troll part of me finds the smell of ogre meat very tempting. Ash’s eyes sparkle with delight when she realizes that her knives aren’t getting dull.

“What do you do with… the rest of it?” I ask when Ash is finished her grisly work.

“Eh. If it’s valuable the client generally wants the body back. If it’s not I charge them a little bit extra for disposal. Guts and whatnot go to the washaway. Why do you ask?”

I’m about to ask about the washaway but my stomach chooses that exact moment to rumble. Ash laughs. I sputter an apology but she isn’t looking at my words. “Go ahead and eat some if you want. I’ll just be, uh, over there.” It’s clear by her tone and scent that she thinks eating raw ogre is gross, but oh well.

Ten minutes later my belly is full and the ogre is a fair bit lighter. My Eyes of Alchemy tell me something interesting.

Ogre Bone - Strength

I ask Ash what she plans to do with the rest of the ogre.

“Only valuable thing on them is the hide. Very resistant to cutting, although it’s not much against things that bash you. Why? You want the rest of it for a takeaway meal?”

I explain I want the bones and she wrinkles her nose, but waves her hand at me to let me know she’s fine with it. I don’t overthink things. With its tough hide gone I just take it apart at the joints and dump the parts in my pouch, which spits out the unwanted meat. Soon I have enough ogre bone for at least a few potent strength potions. Nice!

Once I’m done I can see Ash has questions, but she’s far too polite to ask them. Instead she beings measuring me.

“Told you I could make you a set of clothes, and I meant it. No, put your money away. That work you did on my knives, that’s worth something special. What’s that face for?”

How can she tell I was making a face? “Well, like I said, I can’t really sell potions. I kind of got myself blacklisted from the Alchemist’s Guild. And all the other guilds I’ve tried too.” I give her a quick rundown on the matter, including the short version of me being ‘blessed’ by Jinx, and she nods.

“Hmm. So you can’t sell potions that you made yourself in town. But did you make that potion? I didn’t see it happen. All I saw was that it was in your hand. You could have pulled it from a storage ring or something. I mean, you got a ring on right there.”

“Storage ring? No, I definitely made it myself.”

“You’re not listening,” she says. I can taste her frustration in the air. “You didn’t make that potion in front of me. You just had it all of a sudden. Who’s to say that you made it? Dungeon potions are all kinds of crazy. You probably found it in the dungeon and traded it to me for labour. I think that sounds good, don’t you? Makes way more sense than a magic troll that makes potions out of thin air.”

I nod slowly. I think Ash is on my side here. “And if I, er, find more of these sharpening oils?”

Ash crosses her arms. “Of course you bring them here and I’ll use them if I need to. I won’t stockpile them, though. Be hard to explain if a Guild auditor comes asking. But this way, I just happened to have a need and you just happened to have what I needed. Nothing wrong with returning a favour and there won’t be a record on my Guild card that I paid you anything at all. There’s lots of ways to repay someone for a good turn besides money, and none of them are traceable by nosy Guild auditors.”

I grin. I like this woman.