Sporemageddon

Black Mould - Thirty-Three - Like a Predator Smelling Blood

“You’ll pay me?” Eight-Three-Eleven asked.

“That’s what I said,” I replied as I puttered around my farm. I was setting everything up. I had a tin box in which I was storing all of my [Mana-Infused Brown Horse Head] mushrooms. I was hoping that having the mushrooms in an enclosed case (I had one with a little rubber seal along the rim) would keep the mushrooms fresh for longer, and maybe it would prevent their magical nature from leaking away.

“You know, I have a job already,” Eight-Three-Eleven said.

I nodded dismissively. “Yes, yes, you run around and help poor people with stuff. How much do you make a day from that?”

“My room and board are paid for,” she said.

“So nothing?” I asked. “I’ll give you five shilling a day for half a day’s work. That’s twice what someone like my dad makes at his factory job.”

I’d tried to convince my dad to find work elsewhere. They weren’t giving him an increase at the end of the year, which clearly annoyed him, but for some reason he was really loyal to the company, saying that the owner was a good person.

Placing the last of the mushrooms I was collecting into the box with a bit of a squish, I closed it up carefully. I didn’t want to crush my mushrooms on this trip. “I’d take Stew with me, but he’s busy today. I think he’s looking for a place to stay now that he’s saved a few pounds. Besides, the place is dangerous, I don’t know if Stew would be enough to keep me safe.”

Eight-Three-Eleven frowned. “And you think I’d be enough?”

“No,” I said. “I think your clothes would be enough. Galen’s people are easily recognised, and they’re generally considered off-limits when it comes to things like extortion and whatever. You’re some of the good guys, with a reputation for being helpful. Anyone that smacks you around would be shunned afterwards.”

She shook her head. “You just want me for that?”

“Well, you could help me carry things,” I said. “And you seem halfway charismatic, so you could flag down anyone that looks hungry and who also happens to look like they have money.”

I checked on my table next. The winter had been short this year, spring coming early. I’d spent the weeks locked up indoors working on a covering for my table. It was made of blue and red yarn, set in horizontal stripes. It gave the table a bit of colour, and I was wearing a red sweater I made over clean blue denim overalls, so I matched a bit.

Branding was important, especially if I wanted to make a proper business out of this.

A thin wooden board hung on the front of my table with the details of what I was selling on it.

Amazing Magical Mushrooms!

10 Pence each!

Skewers can be returned for a halfpenny!

Each mushroom contains a portion of revitalising magic!

I gave it fifty-fifty odds that I’d sell out in a matter of minutes or I’d end up standing there and the entire day and all the preparations I did leading up to it would be a waste. My other concern was my own mana. I… had not been growing much in the last year or so.

That was, admittedly, my own fault. Things had calmed down. There weren’t any signs of that gang attack I was worried about, and I’d started making good money over the course of the last year. I was kind of focused on that instead of anything else.

I could see myself living a pretty happy life, growing my little business, expanding to another, bigger farm, maybe even hiring a few people to sell for me. If I made enough, maybe by the time I was a teen I could move my family out of the hovel we lived in and to a spot on the nicer end of the city where the homes were bigger and warmer.

Maybe I could even save up to afford an education of some sort? That would be nice.

“I’m all packed up,” I said as I placed a full bottle of oil into the base of my burner. “So, do you want to come or not?”

Eight-Three-Eleven hesitated, then she rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said.

I grinned. She was a teen, easy to read and somewhat predictable. “In that case, want to carry the table? It’s the heaviest part. It’s not too bad, but it’s kind of big for me.” I grabbed the box of mushrooms I’d be bringing and stuffed them into my satchel (another thing I made myself; it was decorated in the same red-blue pattern as my other things).

We headed out, saying goodbye to Debra as we passed then pushing out across the city.

It was strange, travelling with Eight-Three-Eleven. A lot of folk recognised her, or at least her uniform, and when they did, they’d wave or nod to it.

The acolytes of Galen spent a lot of time helping people. Eight-Three-Eleven didn’t just pay lip service, or at least, the other acolytes didn’t. They mostly did small chores and helped in little ways. Like someone forced to do community service, but all day, everyday.

“So, the way I hear it, you’re turning into a real entrepreneur,” Eight-Three-Eleven said.

“Something like that,” I said. “I… am not content with my lot in life, let’s say.”

She hummed. “You’re pretty smart.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“At least, for someone your age.”

I frowned. I wasn’t smart for someone my age… well, I hoped I wasn’t just smart ‘for my age’. That would suck once I got older. What I lacked at the moment was a good education. I think that there were lots of things that I wasn’t learning that others who lived in nicer places would learn by osmosis.

“So, how’s Galen doing these days?” I asked.

Eight-Three-Eleven blinked, then barked out a laugh. “What kind of question is that?”

“An honest one?” If I could, I’d cross my arms. “He’s your god, isn’t he? At least, the one you worship. Shouldn’t you know how he’s feeling or whatever?”

“I guess,” Eight-Three-Eleven said past a fit of chuckles. “But no one just… chats with their god like that. It’s not how it’s done. Besides, I’m a lowly acolyte, basically a nobody. I have no business meddling in Galen’s affairs. I just help the community as my form of worship to him and hope that one day I might get noticed if I work hard enough.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Are there any gods that are a bit more proactive?”

“Thinking of joining a church?” Eight-Three-Eleven asked.

“I don’t think so,” I said. From what I gathered, there were literally dozens of churches across the city, and that didn’t encompass every deity. Some were more regional, others didn’t do the whole church thing. I probably should have been a bit more interested in that kind of thing, but I couldn’t be bothered.

Feronie had done good by me so far, despite the initial circumstances I found myself in.

We crossed a road at an intersection, Eight-Three-Eleven earning a nod from the Bully working the intersection, then we crossed over towards the Ditz Dungeon.

I felt it as we arrived in the area where the mana was being sapped. It wasn’t as strong as the last time I’d been there. On the other hand… “Hey, is the area around the dungeon bigger?” I asked.

“You mean the space where mana is used up by the dungeon?” Eight-Three-Eleven asked. “Probably. Not by much, though. It’ll only grow a few paces a year.”

The buildings around us were rustier than I remembered, and some of the factories nearest the dungeon looked like they were closed down.

It was still so early in the morning that when we arrived at the dungeon, we found the area around it occupied by hundreds of people just milling around, setting things up, and generally going through the motions of getting ready to work. The dungeon itself was still the same: a tiny mountain with an opening on its side. The Ditz logo above it had been replaced at some point.

“Where do you want to set up?” Eight-Three-Eleven asked.

I eyed the space and all the traffic moving around it in a way that looked chaotic to me, but which likely had some sort of reasoning behind it. “Who has money around here?” I asked.

Eight-Three-Eleven laughed. “One-track mind. I guess the delvers are the ones who earn the most here, other than maybe the foremen.”

I nodded along, that made sense. They were people with particular and uncommon skills who learned how to kill things. You’d want to pay them well. “Well then, let’s find them, then we can empty their wallets while we’re here.” I reached into one of the pockets of my overalls and slipped out a sliver of mushroom which I plopped into my mouth.

My mana would drain the entire time I was here, I had to work to keep it up.

Selling here would be tricky, but by that same token, it might well be worth it too.

***