act17mini

My stuff is different from theirs! I picked everything nice and careful. Look at the quality! How could you give me the same price?

No difference. Three.

How about this, I got another handful of pure Oriron in my pocket. No Originium mixed in at all. I'll add it to the pile for a piece of your bread.

No.

Who do you think you are, old man? Three potatoes for three full baskets of Oriron scrap? Did you burn your conscience in the furnace too?

My bread is pure white flour. You're not getting it for a handful of slag. Get lost. Next!

Two baskets? Put it on the scale. Mm. Two sweet potatoes. Grab it from the ash. Don't try to swipe any; I guarantee you I'll know.

I told you to get lost, Bean Sprout. You're in the way.

You're not the only furnace keeper in this city, old man. If you won't take this, someone else will.

You can have this entire batch of bread if you get more than three sweet potatoes from anybody else, you dumb slug.

Everybody heard that? No takebacks!

*Sarkaz expletive*, they just keep getting worse! The furnace keeper this side's only giving two, and it's cellar leftovers from last year! How am I supposed to make a living?

My back's hurting from gathering this stuff all night. It's not even worth a day of food? Anyway, I'm not going back to the old man. Maybe I should check out the market on the east side.

But the path east would take me past those shacks...

The old folks say they dumped broken bodies there during the war, and there's still ghosts who couldn't get back to the myriad souls...

No, no, no! Only kids are scared of ghost stories. Of course I'm not scared.

Just a dark alley and a few abandoned shacks.

He makes up his mind and pushes his rickety cart forward, around scattered piles of firewood and puddles, toward the narrow and winding alley.

A dark borderline cuts open the path ahead. In front is the area in the shadow of the Soul Furnace. The gaunt man slows his steps, and covers the cart with his jacket.

(Gulps) It's just around the corner...

How is it so cold at midday? Hah, what's with the weather these days?!

Did something move? Who's there? Who said something?!

This place has been abandoned for ages... what's that sound? A blade being sharpened? Meat being cut?

*Sarkaz expletive*, I'll just run through with my eyes closed...

The cart crashes into a wall, just as he is about to get out of the shadow of the Furnace.

No, not a wall... his eyes run across grey-white metal as he looks up, until they meet a pair of crimson-red counterparts.

Ghost!

Sorry, I think I'm lost. Are you alright?

Are you blind? Didn't you see my cart? You, you...?

Sorry. My fault. See ya.

No, just... just stay there! Don't move!

What's up with the weather? How is it so hot when I don't even see the sun? I'm soaked with sweat.

So many weirdos in town these days...

You again? I thought you went west.

A pair of blood-red eyes rise slowly from the shadows in a corner, rising above the Sarkaz's head, above the shacks by the wayside, above the wilted trees.

The heavy figure turns slowly, emerging from the furnace's shadows. The tattered linen cannot hide the grey-white cracks, but they fill the Sarkaz's vision.

(Hoarse growl)

It-It's true... I... *Sarkaz expletive*.

The young Sarkaz's eyes roll into his head. He lets go of his cart and falls unconscious to the ground.

Let's take a break. There's water over there to wash your face.

Well, I got dirt all over my face, but at least we have something to show for it. If nothing else, we got that huge rock out of the construction site.

Who would thought that only a thin outer layer is iron, and the rest is just ash?

Where do we go next?

To the east side is the market. You can find all sorts of stuff there, but they close early, and it's practically a ghost town by the time the Furnace's shadow rises above the east wall.

Don't step on my writing practice, Nymph!

Oh, sorry, Cherie. Does your grandpa have you watching the fire by yourself again?

He said he was going to work at the construction site. He always comes back stinky and falls right asleep. Doesn't even tell me any stories.

Hey, Nymph, since you're here, how are these words?

You're practicing writing on the ash? But it's...

Fresh furnace ash is very clean!

Great work, Cherie! You got all the words I taught you last time right. I should give you a treat...

I've got a candy here.

Candy! But... I don't want candy. I'm afraid that...

Afraid of what?

That the monster in the alley might take it...

Over there, that haunted alley. They say ghosts come for you if you get close to the shacks.

They follow you and snatch your stuff when you're not looking!

You must be joking.

It's real! A lot of people have run into them. Some lost their candy, others lost the linens they put out to dry. They say the ghosts don't target you if you don't carry anything good.

They probably got robbed by some thugs and were too embarrassed to tell the truth.

Don't play with this guy, Nymph! He's bad, he won't believe me.

Alright, don't cry. You say a lot of people saw the, er, ghost?

Yeah! Ask Bean Sprout if you don't believe me. He just ran into one.

Yes, it was three stories tall, wrapped in bandages, and bleeding from its eyes.

Wait, didn't you say there were flames coming out from all over? Don't the bandages catch fire?

Yeah, ghostfire. It's cold, so it doesn't burn.

Er, alright, go on.

What else is there to say? What else could I do?

I did a backflip in midair and dodged the ghostfire, then aimed for its eyes with a handful of iron scrap. The monster never saw it coming.

A backflip? Just yesterday you said your back was hurting and asked me to carry your firewood to your door...

I must be a natural. It felt like energy just kept flowing out from inside me.

*sigh* We should ask someone else.

Don't! No one else could tell it half as good as me!

They all fainted when they saw the thing and ran for their lives without looking back when they came to their senses. They even left the carts they borrowed at the scene. What would they know?

You're not talking about yourself, are you?

What if I am...? You got a problem with me? I'm not afraid of you!

We really don't have time for this. Quit babbling and spit it out.

Pohl––Consultant, he just ran into something real scary, don't be too hard on him.

Wha-Consultant? You're the Consultant? Oh, I'm so sorry! I wouldn't have skipped anything if I knew the Consultant was here to interrogate me himself.

I wouldn't call it an interrogation...

It's those haunted shacks on the east side, I'm sure you know them. I ran into it there. It was crouched in a corner at first, so I didn't notice, but then I took a closer look—

It was draped in linen with blood-red eyes, twice as tall as me, and it was grinding its teeth as it was walking. I was so scared I fainted right there.

I was still in one piece when I woke up, so I thought I was dreaming at first, but then I reached behind my head and felt the bump where I hit it. See, it's right here—

That's fine, I don't need to see it.

You think that's the monster we're looking for, Nymph?

(Shakes head) We'd better go and see if the detector responds. It's not far.

Nymph, Consultant, that's the whole truth, whatever you lost, it really wasn't me. Life's hard enough as it is.

Don't worry, we're not here to give you trouble.

But you should get your cart back, or else I can't promise you that Big Head won't give you trouble.

The young Sarkaz's smile freezes. He pats his own head in chagrin, only to hit the fresh bump. He grimaces in pain.

Can I ask one more favor, Nymph...?

Here's the shack he was talking about. It's been abandoned for ages, though.

Is your detector reacting?

No... are we looking in the right place?

More likely the kid lied.

Does she know there are Sarkaz ashes in the pile she's writing in?

I'd guess no. You protect her well.

...Is that 'protecting'?

Of course it is. Anyway, it would be pretty embarrassing if we got tricked by a kid.

But we're here, and if it really is the work of some thug—