Bodkins Tangleleaf watched his customers leave with a satisfied smile.
They were happy, their taste buds ruined for another day. And that made him happy. It also allowed him to be paid. And that meant even more happiness.
He hadn’t expected anything else, though.
Locally sourced ingredients, freshly procured, and reasonably priced. No matter where he and his cart went, Bodkins went as the finest food vendor to be found anywhere on this side of the continent. He even had the testimonials to prove it.
Although back then, he wasn’t serving food as a merchant. Nor from a cart.
No, back then, he’d served food from a travelling pot. Often less. It wasn’t unusual for him to make earthen ovens from the soil. And yet the delicacies he served could have been conjured from the Grand Duchess’s own kitchens.
It was necessary for a ranger. Even more so for a B-ranked one. One look at his occupation and his rank and everyone assumed he could turn a beetle into a medium-rare steak with fried potatoes and a demi-glace sauce.
Which was true. And that was only slightly tiring.
All those years spent in the wilderness and it wasn’t his experience with a bow that people wanted. It was his ability to make eggs sunny side up. All the time. With no broken yolks or egg shells. And that made him special.
Indeed.
Bodkins Tangleleaf was no ordinary halfling–just as the shadow panther beside him was no ordinary customer.
For one thing, most customers eventually paid.
“If you want seconds, you’ll have to wait,” he said, leisurely creating a fresh batch of his sandwich melts. “I need to cook more. A lot more, given your peckishness. I warn you, though. Only the first bite’s free. And you already owe me.”
“Mrwwor.”
The shadow panther responded by nibbling at a ball of unrisen dough.
Then, just as Bodkins was resigned to threatening the use of his spatulas, the noble feline swiftly leapt away, springing into the woodlands behind him.
Were this any other corner of the world, this is where their encounter would end. A halfling, grateful that any of his ingredients remained. And an unfettered predator of the wilds, now satiated and free.
Instead, Bodkins watched as a sparkle glimmered amongst the cover of the trees.
A hint of magic as clear as the sizzling of his beef patties. And then a rustling of leaves as a shadowy tail turned into a braid upon the end of long, unkempt hair.
What reappeared from the trees was still a creature of the wilds. But it no longer sported paws.
Instead, what came was a slender leg peeking from a dress of spring leaves and wildflowers, finer and more beautiful than any gown sewn for any monarch.
The fangs still remained though.
Even if it was hidden by a dangerous smile.
“Thank you for the meal,” said the alluring elven druid. “I actually think I spent too long in that form. To be honest, I still feel slightly carnivorous.”
Bodkins pretended not to be worried … even if he wasn’t sure what for, exactly.
“Then you’ll still have to wait, I’m afraid.”
“It looks like the patties are almost done.”
“I wasn’t talking about the patties. I was talking about how you haven't paid. I’m guessing you transformed to get the coin purse out?”
The elven druid responded by peeking down at her jade bracelets, ensuring they still remained. The colour of her eyes. And one of the few things crafted by hands other than herself she wore.
“My coin purse? Oops, I seem to have lost mine when I shapeshifted.”
“A curious story. If you can keep a dress while you shapeshift, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to keep a pouch of crowns, either.”
“If you’d like, I can consider forgetting my dress the next time, too.”
“Please don’t. I’d have to report you for outraging public decency. And you don’t want that on top of dine and dashing.”
“True. I’ve spent enough time fleeing as a cat already. Any more and I’ll feel myself forgetting how to use a fork.”
The woman smiled as she leaned down to pluck a twig from between her toes.
Despite her carefree response, Bodkins knew forgetting how to hold cutlery was the least of dangers to one who spent too long as an animal. To become bestial in mind was an unsightly way to lose one’s sanity.
Then again, this particular woman was never quite sane to begin with, anyway.
It was the prerequisite for joining the Golden Hogs.
Bodkins chuckled. The next jovial words expected of him were halfway out of his lips before he paused. He saw the hint of bruising under the leafy sleeves. The sharp lines of red.
Whip lashes.
His smile fell. As did his tone.
“... Sorry it took so long to find you, Liriane. I was in Aquina when one of your mockingbirds caught me.”
Liriane gave an animated flick of her hair, as if to shoo away his guilt.
It was probably just to get rid of the ladybug that was in there.
“It’s fine. I always knew you were coming, even if you didn’t.”
Bodkins tried to smile.
Instead, his eyes lingered on the scarring instead.
“You’re hurt,” he said simply.
Liriane stretched her arms out, then looked inquisitively over her own injuries.
“Oh, so that’s what the itch was about … [Lesser Heal].”
Flickers of green light were instantly drawn to the druid’s fingertips. They gathered around her like fireflies to a pond, before dispersing towards the scarring.
The healing lasted moments.
It was all that was needed.
Though Liriane was no healer, at least, not in the same vein as Cedric was, she was still a druid. And that meant when she wasn’t eating something with the jaws of a bear or dicing them into fillet chunks with a panther’s claws, she could heal instead.
Admittedly, she didn’t do it as often as someone of her occupation would be expected to. But she still paid lip service to the whole gentle forest warden thing.
“Good as new,” said Liriane, pulling up her sleeves to reveal her bare arms. Bodkins glanced away. A gesture she doubtless saw. “What? You think that was enough to bother me? I’ve literally had all my fur scorched off by a dragon before.”
“And I’m as apologetic then as I am now. I should’ve been faster.”
“Don’t be. It’s hardly your fault. You didn’t know I was here. More importantly, I didn’t know a dwarf would own an enchanted whip far above his pay grade. He got lucky.”
Bodkins glanced at the dwarf in question.
He was being dragged away, tied in so many ropes that no escape artist could wriggle from it. But only after first being caught and sat upon by a heavy panther.
“I hope I never have his luck, then.”
Liriane giggled. She motioned to somewhere in the distance.
“We’ll need to pick that whip up. I didn’t want anyone else seeing it, so I left it in a good spot for us.”
“Good thinking. Where is it now?”
“Inside a killer bee hive, if my aim was good.”
Bodkins grimaced.
Barely a few minutes into their reunion, and this conversation was already becoming all too familiar.
“Well, I’m sure I can smoke them out … most of them, at least.”
“Excellent. I’ll watch from a safe distance. Good job in advance.”
Bodkins shrugged.
“It’ll be the only good I do today, other than reminding young maidens about the wonders of melted gruyère.”
“A cruel thing. My saviour will never experience such joy again.”
“If you feel she deserves another sandwich melt, I’m sure you can still catch up. Didn’t want to thank her?”
A distinctly unladylike snort came from the elven druid.
“I’d prefer her ignorance. Being rescued like that is the lowest I’ve ever come.”
“I’ve seen lower,” he said, before retreating to a sight as dangerous as most of his recipes. “How did she even rescue you?”
Liriane hummed, a familiar look of amusement flashing across her face.
“She broke the spell imbued in the whip.”
“I heard her commanding you to stop. But I sensed no magic in it.”
“Incorrect. There was the greatest magic in it.”
Bodkins struggled for an answer, as he was expected to.
“Love?” he answered uncertainly.
“Memories,” replied Lirianne, with an unnecessary roll of her eyes. “You must remember how stern Thomas could get. Each time I had a little too much fun with Cedric’s aversion to cats, he’d always tell me to stop in that exact same tone, finger pointed and brows creased.”
“All I remember is him trying and failing several times first. This girl managed the feat straight away.”
Liriane paused.
“Yes, most curious … did she seem familiar to you, by any chance?”
The sound of sizzling patties filled up the vacuum where Bodkin’s response should have been. He gave them a casual flip.
“Oh? She seems like just another adventurer to me.”
“Hmm. I feel like I recognise her. Someone we saved once?”
“Well, if she was, then she’s now returned the favour. That’s one of your nine panther lives gone. You can’t rely on random encounters with passing adventurers to pull you from the mire, you know.”
“We were those passing adventurers once. It only seems fair that the world returns the favour every now and again.”
“The world isn’t fair. We give and expect nothing in return. Riding our luck now only invites all the wrongs we sealed to come scurrying out once more, now with all the added interest saved in the darkness.”
Liriane smiled.
“That sounds rather like Thomas speaking … it doesn’t suit you in the slightest.”
Bodkins winced at the truthfulness of the statement.
Still, someone had to do it.
“Just what were you doing here?” he asked. “It’s been … 4, 5 years. I didn’t believe it was one of your mockingbirds until it started pecking at me. I never expected to find you being taken in by a circus.”
“Neither did I. But you know how it is. Detours are part of our line of work. Especially when news of high level monsters roaming the roads are about.”
“You’re losing your edge. If this was the old Liriane, you would’ve eaten the dwarf first and asked questions later.”
The druid shrugged.
“Tried that once. Didn’t want to do it again.”
Bodkins tried to recall when Liriane had eaten a dwarf. He couldn’t remember. But he remembered her eating other things.
He shuddered as Liriane continued.
“Anyway, I’m here because I’m busy. And now I’ve taken you away from your budding business empire, I suppose I could let you in on the Big Elven Secret before I dash off again.”
Bodkins began to chuckle. He stopped when he saw Liriane’s expression.
“Wait, there’s a Big Elven Secret?”
“Sure. What do you think we do in the woods all day?”
“Probably nothing hygienic, based on what I’ve seen of you.”
Bodkins instantly decided to withhold his right to speech when he saw that one of Liriane’s teeth became distinctly fang-shaped.
“I’m searching for Ophelia.”
“Ophelia? … Wait, the Snow Dancer?”
“That’s the one. Don’t suppose you’ve seen her around?”
Bodkins was startled. Mostly because he had.
“Sure. She was in Aquina not too long ago. Saw her briefly when I was there. She was culling a lot of blood turtles. Probably keeping the town safe. Why?”
“Because if she was there, then she’s not any longer. I’ve tracked her movements to this very spot. I think she’s headed for Granholtz. I need her.”
Bodkins nodded.
The Snow Dancer was famous. Especially so for being elven. They were becoming more reclusive by the year, their numbers dwindling. Few amongst their ranks lived outside their forest abodes.
Even fewer were A-rank sword saints.
Yet if Liriane needed her, then it was for something specific to the elves. Especially since she already had ready access to another A-rank sword master … even if he did spend more time wielding tankards than swords these days.
“When you say you need her, do you mean you, or your clan?”
“Clans. Plural.”
Bodkins braved an inquisitive smile.
“The clans, now? What are you devilish pixies up to this time?”
“I could tell you, but then I’d have to eat you.”
“Oi, you said you’d let me in on the Big Elven Secret!”
“And I will. I just had to give the disclaimer first. Still want to know?”
The halfling snorted.
If that was the price, then he’d decline. Gone were the days he was ready to be thoroughly digested for his curiosity.
“Not everyone is blessed with elven blood, Liriane. And fewer are blessed with your continued thirst for trouble. I came here to stop my ear being eaten. I now live the life of a highly successful, if simple travelling merchant.”
“A simple merchant. And yet even without my lovely mockingbirds to guide you, you’d find yourself at the doorstep of this kingdom’s worst troubles.”
Bodkins shrugged.
“Where there’s trouble, there’s crowns. And those who offer crowns will always offer extra for help. Now I know why shopkeepers were never far away, no matter how lost in the wilderness we became. The profit margins are unbeatable. One sandwich melt with a side of rumours and I’ve met my target for the day. Adventurers, eh?”
Liriane offered a distinctly unimpressed smile.
“Retirement suits you too well.”
“And don’t I look fabulous for it?” Bodkins pointed at the wrinkles soothed by the steam. “See this? Still look as young as 55. You’re not going to easily press me into whatever calamity you elves have planned.”
“I don’t need to. You’ll agree to it, even without me asking.”
“Then I suggest you start paying for your last meal. You have a long way to go in order to fully cozy up with me.”
Liriane’s expression gave no doubt of her confidence she’d have both her free meal and her halfling ranger. So much so, that Bodkins began to wonder whether it was entirely an accident she was driven to seeking out his rescue.
After all, if she knew where the Snow Dancer was, then she’d surely know where a travelling halfling with a famed sandwich cart was.
Still, he truly was content with his new lot in life.
The Golden Hogs were ghosts of the past. And though their echoes sometimes lingered, those who lived in the present deserved saviours with less rickety knees.
Someone filled with the hope of inexperience and the righteousness of youth.
That’s why–
His mind turned to the girl with the enchanted sword, expensive attire, and a personality unique to those who spent a life under royal tutelage.
One he’d met several times already.
Although she was probably too young to remember when the Golden Hogs had last set foot in the Royal Villa all those years ago.
How strange that with all the endless roads this girl might take outside of it, that she should find his cart upon it twice.
He’d paid little mind to their first meeting in Aquina. She was, after all, hardly the first privileged daughter to scarper for a life of adventure.
That’d changed when he’d learned that Duke Valence had mysteriously vanished following her departure, and that his vaults were now flooded with melted crowns.
And now his opinion had changed even more, knowing that this adventurer had appeared like an arrow from the heavens to rescue his own former comrade, her gallantry finding its mark even as Bodkins stumbled to even find his footing.
Once was a coincidence. Twice was fate.
He didn’t know what the next time would mean. But he vowed to have a free sample of his coming great invention ready for when it happened.
After all, Bodkins had no doubt that a princess would make a fine patron.
kayenano
Ohoho! Thank you so much for reading!
Join my Patreon to read 20+ chapters ahead!
And don't forget to check out the Discord for fun and pictures!
Bodkins Tangleleaf watched his customers leave with a satisfied smile.
They were happy, their taste buds ruined for another day. And that made him happy. It also allowed him to be paid. And that meant even more happiness.
He hadn’t expected anything else, though.
Locally sourced ingredients, freshly procured, and reasonably priced. No matter where he and his cart went, Bodkins went as the finest food vendor to be found anywhere on this side of the continent. He even had the testimonials to prove it.
Although back then, he wasn’t serving food as a merchant. Nor from a cart.
No, back then, he’d served food from a travelling pot. Often less. It wasn’t unusual for him to make earthen ovens from the soil. And yet the delicacies he served could have been conjured from the Grand Duchess’s own kitchens.
It was necessary for a ranger. Even more so for a B-ranked one. One look at his occupation and his rank and everyone assumed he could turn a beetle into a medium-rare steak with fried potatoes and a demi-glace sauce.
Which was true. And that was only slightly tiring.
All those years spent in the wilderness and it wasn’t his experience with a bow that people wanted. It was his ability to make eggs sunny side up. All the time. With no broken yolks or egg shells. And that made him special.
Indeed.
Bodkins Tangleleaf was no ordinary halfling–just as the shadow panther beside him was no ordinary customer.
For one thing, most customers eventually paid.
“If you want seconds, you’ll have to wait,” he said, leisurely creating a fresh batch of his sandwich melts. “I need to cook more. A lot more, given your peckishness. I warn you, though. Only the first bite’s free. And you already owe me.”
“Mrwwor.”
The shadow panther responded by nibbling at a ball of unrisen dough.
Then, just as Bodkins was resigned to threatening the use of his spatulas, the noble feline swiftly leapt away, springing into the woodlands behind him.
Were this any other corner of the world, this is where their encounter would end. A halfling, grateful that any of his ingredients remained. And an unfettered predator of the wilds, now satiated and free.
Instead, Bodkins watched as a sparkle glimmered amongst the cover of the trees.
A hint of magic as clear as the sizzling of his beef patties. And then a rustling of leaves as a shadowy tail turned into a braid upon the end of long, unkempt hair.
What reappeared from the trees was still a creature of the wilds. But it no longer sported paws.
Instead, what came was a slender leg peeking from a dress of spring leaves and wildflowers, finer and more beautiful than any gown sewn for any monarch.
The fangs still remained though.
Even if it was hidden by a dangerous smile.
“Thank you for the meal,” said the alluring elven druid. “I actually think I spent too long in that form. To be honest, I still feel slightly carnivorous.”
Bodkins pretended not to be worried … even if he wasn’t sure what for, exactly.
“Then you’ll still have to wait, I’m afraid.”
“It looks like the patties are almost done.”
“I wasn’t talking about the patties. I was talking about how you haven't paid. I’m guessing you transformed to get the coin purse out?”
The elven druid responded by peeking down at her jade bracelets, ensuring they still remained. The colour of her eyes. And one of the few things crafted by hands other than herself she wore.
“My coin purse? Oops, I seem to have lost mine when I shapeshifted.”
“A curious story. If you can keep a dress while you shapeshift, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to keep a pouch of crowns, either.”
“If you’d like, I can consider forgetting my dress the next time, too.”
“Please don’t. I’d have to report you for outraging public decency. And you don’t want that on top of dine and dashing.”
“True. I’ve spent enough time fleeing as a cat already. Any more and I’ll feel myself forgetting how to use a fork.”
The woman smiled as she leaned down to pluck a twig from between her toes.
Despite her carefree response, Bodkins knew forgetting how to hold cutlery was the least of dangers to one who spent too long as an animal. To become bestial in mind was an unsightly way to lose one’s sanity.
Then again, this particular woman was never quite sane to begin with, anyway.
It was the prerequisite for joining the Golden Hogs.
Bodkins chuckled. The next jovial words expected of him were halfway out of his lips before he paused. He saw the hint of bruising under the leafy sleeves. The sharp lines of red.
Whip lashes.
His smile fell. As did his tone.
“... Sorry it took so long to find you, Liriane. I was in Aquina when one of your mockingbirds caught me.”
Liriane gave an animated flick of her hair, as if to shoo away his guilt.
It was probably just to get rid of the ladybug that was in there.
“It’s fine. I always knew you were coming, even if you didn’t.”
Bodkins tried to smile.
Instead, his eyes lingered on the scarring instead.
“You’re hurt,” he said simply.
Liriane stretched her arms out, then looked inquisitively over her own injuries.
“Oh, so that’s what the itch was about … [Lesser Heal].”
Flickers of green light were instantly drawn to the druid’s fingertips. They gathered around her like fireflies to a pond, before dispersing towards the scarring.
The healing lasted moments.
It was all that was needed.
Though Liriane was no healer, at least, not in the same vein as Cedric was, she was still a druid. And that meant when she wasn’t eating something with the jaws of a bear or dicing them into fillet chunks with a panther’s claws, she could heal instead.
Admittedly, she didn’t do it as often as someone of her occupation would be expected to. But she still paid lip service to the whole gentle forest warden thing.
“Good as new,” said Liriane, pulling up her sleeves to reveal her bare arms. Bodkins glanced away. A gesture she doubtless saw. “What? You think that was enough to bother me? I’ve literally had all my fur scorched off by a dragon before.”
“And I’m as apologetic then as I am now. I should’ve been faster.”
“Don’t be. It’s hardly your fault. You didn’t know I was here. More importantly, I didn’t know a dwarf would own an enchanted whip far above his pay grade. He got lucky.”
Bodkins glanced at the dwarf in question.
He was being dragged away, tied in so many ropes that no escape artist could wriggle from it. But only after first being caught and sat upon by a heavy panther.
“I hope I never have his luck, then.”
Liriane giggled. She motioned to somewhere in the distance.
“We’ll need to pick that whip up. I didn’t want anyone else seeing it, so I left it in a good spot for us.”
“Good thinking. Where is it now?”
“Inside a killer bee hive, if my aim was good.”
Bodkins grimaced.
Barely a few minutes into their reunion, and this conversation was already becoming all too familiar.
“Well, I’m sure I can smoke them out … most of them, at least.”
“Excellent. I’ll watch from a safe distance. Good job in advance.”
Bodkins shrugged.
“It’ll be the only good I do today, other than reminding young maidens about the wonders of melted gruyère.”
“A cruel thing. My saviour will never experience such joy again.”
“If you feel she deserves another sandwich melt, I’m sure you can still catch up. Didn’t want to thank her?”
A distinctly unladylike snort came from the elven druid.
“I’d prefer her ignorance. Being rescued like that is the lowest I’ve ever come.”
“I’ve seen lower,” he said, before retreating to a sight as dangerous as most of his recipes. “How did she even rescue you?”
Liriane hummed, a familiar look of amusement flashing across her face.
“She broke the spell imbued in the whip.”
“I heard her commanding you to stop. But I sensed no magic in it.”
“Incorrect. There was the greatest magic in it.”
Bodkins struggled for an answer, as he was expected to.
“Love?” he answered uncertainly.
“Memories,” replied Lirianne, with an unnecessary roll of her eyes. “You must remember how stern Thomas could get. Each time I had a little too much fun with Cedric’s aversion to cats, he’d always tell me to stop in that exact same tone, finger pointed and brows creased.”
“All I remember is him trying and failing several times first. This girl managed the feat straight away.”
Liriane paused.
“Yes, most curious … did she seem familiar to you, by any chance?”
The sound of sizzling patties filled up the vacuum where Bodkin’s response should have been. He gave them a casual flip.
“Oh? She seems like just another adventurer to me.”
“Hmm. I feel like I recognise her. Someone we saved once?”
“Well, if she was, then she’s now returned the favour. That’s one of your nine panther lives gone. You can’t rely on random encounters with passing adventurers to pull you from the mire, you know.”
“We were those passing adventurers once. It only seems fair that the world returns the favour every now and again.”
“The world isn’t fair. We give and expect nothing in return. Riding our luck now only invites all the wrongs we sealed to come scurrying out once more, now with all the added interest saved in the darkness.”
Liriane smiled.
“That sounds rather like Thomas speaking … it doesn’t suit you in the slightest.”
Bodkins winced at the truthfulness of the statement.
Still, someone had to do it.
“Just what were you doing here?” he asked. “It’s been … 4, 5 years. I didn’t believe it was one of your mockingbirds until it started pecking at me. I never expected to find you being taken in by a circus.”
“Neither did I. But you know how it is. Detours are part of our line of work. Especially when news of high level monsters roaming the roads are about.”
“You’re losing your edge. If this was the old Liriane, you would’ve eaten the dwarf first and asked questions later.”
The druid shrugged.
“Tried that once. Didn’t want to do it again.”
Bodkins tried to recall when Liriane had eaten a dwarf. He couldn’t remember. But he remembered her eating other things.
He shuddered as Liriane continued.
“Anyway, I’m here because I’m busy. And now I’ve taken you away from your budding business empire, I suppose I could let you in on the Big Elven Secret before I dash off again.”
Bodkins began to chuckle. He stopped when he saw Liriane’s expression.
“Wait, there’s a Big Elven Secret?”
“Sure. What do you think we do in the woods all day?”
“Probably nothing hygienic, based on what I’ve seen of you.”
Bodkins instantly decided to withhold his right to speech when he saw that one of Liriane’s teeth became distinctly fang-shaped.
“I’m searching for Ophelia.”
“Ophelia? … Wait, the Snow Dancer?”
“That’s the one. Don’t suppose you’ve seen her around?”
Bodkins was startled. Mostly because he had.
“Sure. She was in Aquina not too long ago. Saw her briefly when I was there. She was culling a lot of blood turtles. Probably keeping the town safe. Why?”
“Because if she was there, then she’s not any longer. I’ve tracked her movements to this very spot. I think she’s headed for Granholtz. I need her.”
Bodkins nodded.
The Snow Dancer was famous. Especially so for being elven. They were becoming more reclusive by the year, their numbers dwindling. Few amongst their ranks lived outside their forest abodes.
Even fewer were A-rank sword saints.
Yet if Liriane needed her, then it was for something specific to the elves. Especially since she already had ready access to another A-rank sword master … even if he did spend more time wielding tankards than swords these days.
“When you say you need her, do you mean you, or your clan?”
“Clans. Plural.”
Bodkins braved an inquisitive smile.
“The clans, now? What are you devilish pixies up to this time?”
“I could tell you, but then I’d have to eat you.”
“Oi, you said you’d let me in on the Big Elven Secret!”
“And I will. I just had to give the disclaimer first. Still want to know?”
The halfling snorted.
If that was the price, then he’d decline. Gone were the days he was ready to be thoroughly digested for his curiosity.
“Not everyone is blessed with elven blood, Liriane. And fewer are blessed with your continued thirst for trouble. I came here to stop my ear being eaten. I now live the life of a highly successful, if simple travelling merchant.”
“A simple merchant. And yet even without my lovely mockingbirds to guide you, you’d find yourself at the doorstep of this kingdom’s worst troubles.”
Bodkins shrugged.
“Where there’s trouble, there’s crowns. And those who offer crowns will always offer extra for help. Now I know why shopkeepers were never far away, no matter how lost in the wilderness we became. The profit margins are unbeatable. One sandwich melt with a side of rumours and I’ve met my target for the day. Adventurers, eh?”
Liriane offered a distinctly unimpressed smile.
“Retirement suits you too well.”
“And don’t I look fabulous for it?” Bodkins pointed at the wrinkles soothed by the steam. “See this? Still look as young as 55. You’re not going to easily press me into whatever calamity you elves have planned.”
“I don’t need to. You’ll agree to it, even without me asking.”
“Then I suggest you start paying for your last meal. You have a long way to go in order to fully cozy up with me.”
Liriane’s expression gave no doubt of her confidence she’d have both her free meal and her halfling ranger. So much so, that Bodkins began to wonder whether it was entirely an accident she was driven to seeking out his rescue.
After all, if she knew where the Snow Dancer was, then she’d surely know where a travelling halfling with a famed sandwich cart was.
Still, he truly was content with his new lot in life.
The Golden Hogs were ghosts of the past. And though their echoes sometimes lingered, those who lived in the present deserved saviours with less rickety knees.
Someone filled with the hope of inexperience and the righteousness of youth.
That’s why–
His mind turned to the girl with the enchanted sword, expensive attire, and a personality unique to those who spent a life under royal tutelage.
One he’d met several times already.
Although she was probably too young to remember when the Golden Hogs had last set foot in the Royal Villa all those years ago.
How strange that with all the endless roads this girl might take outside of it, that she should find his cart upon it twice.
He’d paid little mind to their first meeting in Aquina. She was, after all, hardly the first privileged daughter to scarper for a life of adventure.
That’d changed when he’d learned that Duke Valence had mysteriously vanished following her departure, and that his vaults were now flooded with melted crowns.
And now his opinion had changed even more, knowing that this adventurer had appeared like an arrow from the heavens to rescue his own former comrade, her gallantry finding its mark even as Bodkins stumbled to even find his footing.
Once was a coincidence. Twice was fate.
He didn’t know what the next time would mean. But he vowed to have a free sample of his coming great invention ready for when it happened.
After all, Bodkins had no doubt that a princess would make a fine patron.
kayenano
Ohoho! Thank you so much for reading!
Join my Patreon to read 20+ chapters ahead!
And don't forget to check out the Discord for fun and pictures!
