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Selina Fairchild

The Burden

I was wandering the streets of Britain so as to familiarize myself with its topography and local citizenry. I wandered in and out of several shops and inns, taking note of my surroundings and of the activities the populace was engaged in. Living on the outlying farmland for the first fourteen years of my life, I had never realized that the capital of Sosaria was so immense. The greatest activity could be found on the Western side of the city, presumably because of the bank’s locale. I explored for what seemed like hours.

I am greatly pleased at what I see so far; these people are like fattened sheep ready for the slaughter. They place their trust in Lord British, and it is a trust that I know from very personal experience is sadly misplaced.

Presently I came to the Eastern side of Britain. There were far fewer people, and I had wanted to distance myself from the leering, drunken men at the tavern, and the loathsome noises of bards strumming away at their music with skill equaling that of a feebleminded and clumsied llama. I chanced by a tailor’s shop, where a flowing green dress in the window caught my fancy. As I entered, I spied a red-bearded man across the shop. He carried a backpack that was absolutely stuffed with badly tailored skullcaps. The shopkeepers rolled their eyes at yet another would-be weaver hawking his poorly crafted wares.

The man bent over, huffing and straining, and lifted another pouch that rested by his feet. He seemed to be able to move it only a few inches before pausing to rest. I felt sorry for this poor overburdened soul, and decided that I would relieve him of his heavy encumbrance. Stepping behind the partially opened shop door, I hid, and watched him struggle in my direction.

His face was as red as his beard as he groaned and lifted the bag yet again. He slung it forward onto the floor within inches of my feet. Suddenly one of the tailors in the shop turned from the middle of a business transaction and screamed at him: "MAXIMILLION JAZ! If thou hast but a moment…Royce hates me and wishes me dead! Thou’rt a good choice for a murderer…" Startled, Maximillion glanced in her direction. In that moment, I grabbed the edges of the bag with both hands and dragged it behind the door.

Max turned back to where his bag wasn’t. A puzzled look crossed his brow. He turned in first one direction and then another, becoming visibly agitated.

"HEY DWAR DID YOU SEE A BAG OVER HERE IM LAGGING" he shrilled at a wizard who was also in the shop, dressed in yellow robes and a bear mask.

"I think you dropped it by the wall. I saw it fall through," replied the mage. From the look in his eye, I could tell that he knew this was not so. Whatever his reasoning, he did not reveal my position.

"OH WELL GUESS I HAVE TO WAIT TILL IT COMES BACK" Max yelled, an anxious tone in his voice. He waited. And waited. After some time, he stormed out the door without a word, no doubt cursing the gods and his own misfortune.

I then stepped from my hiding place, and smiled sweetly at Dwar. "Thy friend looked so pitiful, dragging such a weighty burden. He looked ready to collapse, as weak as a day-old kitten. I hope that thou doth not mind my assistance."

"hehe" said Dwar, returning to his own business.

I attempted to leave the shop, and found that I myself was so overburdened that I could not lift my feet. What in the worlds had this lad been carrying? I peeked into the pack.

The contents of the bag confirmed my suspicion that the average Britannian is, shall we say, somewhat less than intelligent. It contained more than twenty of several types of reagents, a double-headed axe, a war fork, a map, two crystal balls, a partially filled spellbook, and numerous other items.

I quickly handed several clothing items contained within to the nearby tailor, who thanked me profusely and nattered on about a magical set of chainmail leggings somewhere to the west. Still, the burden proved too much. Removing my mortar and pestle from my pack I ground up a bit of Max’s mandrake root and drank it down. Increased strength flowed through my limbs, and I strolled out the door and into the night…

 
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