[Mkguild] Fudger

[Stealth]

This is in the same cycle as Starting Over and The Trials of New Tasks
and Trades

Fudger
Copyright (c) 2010 Michael Nastov and Christian O’Kane


   Misha just got back from the baths, sogging wet as usual despite
vigorously trying to dry himself off. He massaged his arms, legs and
tail with the towel as he sat on his chair. As he rubbed between his
toes his nose twitched. The vulpine sniffed at his foot paw.

   He paused and then sniffed again. He tried to pull it closer to his
muzzle and accidentally poked his nose several times before he got a
good grip on it and sniffed at it some more.

   When Caroline walked in Misha had his nose buried in the pads of
his toes, sniffing away, until he caught sight of the otter. A
pregnant pause followed... the fox looked up at his love, tail wagged
slightly and resumed sniffing his foot.

   “Misha! That’s disgusting!” Caroline complained.

   “Oh, come on, it’s clean.” He said, into his foot.

   The otter draped her towel over his head.

**********

   “Another payment?” Misha asked the child at his door.

   The little girl had brunette hair that was braided and held close
to her heard with a gold hair clasp “It’s been a month, yes.”

   “Ah!” Misha answered and ushered her in, “I knew that.”

   Cherise sat down on one of the taller chairs and placed a large
sack on the desk while a small box rested on her lap.

   Misha pulled the sack over to him and opened it, “How has business
been? From the color of the coins in here I’d say good.”

   “We had a break in last night but the repairs should be finished by today.”

   “Oh?” He looked up from the coins, “Are you alright?”

   The AR shrugged, “They ran off when we woke up to check, well,
Audric is slightly nocturnal so they didn’t do much more then break
the door.” She grimaced “Before you ask, he didn’t see them or
identify any scent.”

   The vulpine nodded in thought and then sniffed at the air, “What’s
that smell?” Misha’s nose darted a bit.

   “Honey peanut soap, the nuts are ground and roasted in while it sets.”

   He blinked, “Ah... I’m confused, you put food in the soap?”

   “That’s... yes, I suppose so.” She rubbed her arm and looked away.

   Misha tilted his head, “What’s wrong, Cherise? ...I’m sure those
thieves won’t be back to bother you.”

   She looked down at her shoes for a moment, “No, there’s something
else, it’s silly and a bit embarrassing.”

   “That’s okay, I have a silly and embarrassing answer.” he said
cheerfully and wagged his tail. “But seriously, what’s your question?”

   “Well I... I would like to register a complaint.” She answered softly.

   Misha sat up and looked surprised. “Oh?”

   “Your clock that I bought, it isn’t working,” She said.

   Misha cocked his head to one side again. “You didn’t buy a clock
from me?” he said slowly.

   “From a vendor, selling your clocks." she said. “They were discounted.”

   “A vendor? I don’t have vendors. I sell all my stuff myself,” Misha
explained. “Where was this vendor?”

   “It was in Euper, The Writer’s Guild.”

   “You bought it from the Writer’s Guild?” he asked, sounding confused.

   “Well... it was spelt with a Y...” she explained with a blush. “The
Wry Tor’s Guild. Many good looking items and they were cheap, dirt
cheap!”

   “Wry Tor? that sounds like the name of a tavern. Cheap stuff? Did
you checkout how good this stuff was before buying it?”

   “Well to be honest I’ve never seen your clocks in person but I’ve
heard good things, and I don’t have much money.” Cherise handed over
the small wooden box.

   Mish took the box and placed it on the table. He slowly opened the
box revealing a small wooden clock wrapped in cheap cloth. He examined
the clock and was not impressed. The wood was poor quality pine
covered with cheap varnish. The hands were made of cheap iron painted
to look brass. He caught sight of a name etched on the back. “Fudger?”
He asked, “FUDGER?!” The fox snarled.

   “Fudger?” she said echoing him, heart rate slightly on the up...
“Don’t you mean Fadger...? It even has a picture of a fox on it.” The
woman pointed to the bottom of the clock face where there was the
small etched image of a fox.

   Misha looked closely at the little fox and saw that the fox only
had 3 legs, one ear bigger than the muzzle, and one eye bigger than
the other ear.

   “This is a fox? It looks like Madog before I repaired him. And my
clocks don’t even have foxes etched onto them!” The irate vulpine
sighed heavily and put it on his desk. “It’s cheap junk,” he snarled.

   Misha forced open the back with little effort and gazed at its
nonexistent innards. Save a few gears and a spring that made the hands
move without purpose it was hollow. There was only a lead block
screwed to the base to weigh it down. “Where is the Wry tor’s guild?”
He asked coldly, “I want to pay them a visit.”

   “It’s just off the main square in Euper, past the corner of the
Jolly Collie,” came the answer.


******************


   Misha found the store easily enough. ‘Wrytor,’ it said above the
door, ‘quality, original, recommend’. It was located off the main
square in Euper on one of the small side streets, only a block from
the Jolly Collie; the inn that Misha owned. Unfortunately all he found
was an empty building with the door closed and the windows covered by
thick shutters. One sharp kick on the door and Misha was able to get
inside. It was not helpful. All he saw through the doorway was a
large, dark EMPTY room.

   “Why doesn’t this surprise me,” Misha snarled.

   The scout walked slowly through the building, his footsteps echoing
in the large empty space. “Nothing!” Misha said softly. “They left
nothing behind.” He wiped his hand along the floor and his fingers
came up clean. “They even swept up!”

******************

   Cherise answered the letter with all haste, after hours, but upon
her arrival felt less then confident, regardless she knocked on the
door and tried to hide the obvious angst.

   The door opened, revealing a fox. The room beyond was his
apartment, however she was nowhere near Long House.

   “Misha?” She said frightfully.

   “I’ve visited the shop; I’m afraid the warranty from the wry tor
folk has expired...” He explained curtly and placed a box in her
hands, “Beware what you buy.” Having said that he closed the door.

   Cherise just looked at the door in silence for a few moments and
then walked away a few steps. Down the hall she stopped and finally
looked at the box he’d given her. The girl gently opened it to reveal
the clock. She was stuck with it, she thought with a grimace, but why
did it feel so heavy?

   Upon closer inspection the clock was made of a wood that had a
rich, deep grain and that glistened with the fine lacquer applied over
it. She didn’t know exactly what type of wood it was but she was sure
it was something exotic like mahogany or teak. All the edges of the
clock case were covered with a thin, metal inlay that was a dark, blue
color. The clock face and the case around it was decorated with a
complex pattern of curves, swirls and beautiful complex shapes of the
sun, moon and constellations of the night sky. The hands of the clock
were made of a golden colored metal that was not gold or brass but
seemed to be a mix of the two. She noticed very fine lines running all
round the edges of the hands. “Misha.” She gasped to herself, looking
over the complex and expensive device. In a way Cherise felt
relieved... in another way not so much; her foolishness had been
rewarded.

******************

   He placed the counterfeit gently on the ground and then stepped
back. Hefting his axe Misha swung it at the floor with lightning
speed. The clock exploded into thousands of pieces with just one hit,
nevertheless Misha thrust the great black axe into the remains again,
scanning for them on the floor and smashing them again and again until
his arms were tired.

   One piece survived the savagery. At about an inch wide, a portion
of the cheap pine remained intact.

   Misha snorted and poked it with the claw tip of his toe. He set
Whisper aside and bent down to retrieve the shard of wood. He tapped
it a few more times and pondered its fate, then he set it gently on
the work bench and produced a scribing knife.

   After a few quick carvings he blew away the shavings and rubbed the
surface of the wood clean. Seemingly satisfied he stepped back and
nodded.

   “There. At least now you have all 4 legs.”


Fudger
Copyright (c) 2010 Michael Nastov and Christian O’Kane



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