Chapter 3: A mop and a whistle

Chapter 3: A mop and a whistle

I miss my wife and daughter...

It’s been about a week since I reincarnated into Minnova, in the dwarven country of Crack, on the planet Erd. Yes, Erd, because apparently it is common throughout the multiverse to name your planet after dirt. I hope that the country is called Crack because it has a crack, not because of crack, or because it smells like crack.

Back to moping, or mopping in this case. I’m almost done cleaning out the unigoat stalls. It took nearly the whole week to do it, and I think I’ve managed to avoid getting anything nasty in the process. No conditions and no back strains. Must be that famous dwarven constitution, or my vitality of 12.

“Who’s a good goat, Billy? You are!” I rubbed the neck of the unigoat beside me. These guys have really helped me get over losing my wife and daughter. I know they aren’t really gone, it was actually me who died, but it’s still a depressing feeling.

That’s right... I died. It took a few days for that to really sink in after the whole ‘reincarnated as a dwarf’ business. Honestly, I’m not really worried about my wife and daughter. Samantha already has a job lined up, and I know Carol’s plan was to go cruising. I can see her now, sitting on the deck of a cruise ship, in that itsy bitsy polka dot bikini I always liked to tease her about. Her luxurious French Fork beard and Imperial moustache fluttering in the breeze...

By my beard! Now I’m doing it too!! Focus Pete, this place is getting to your head!

“Hello Peter!” An alto voice called out. I peeked around the wall to see Opal approaching the stables.

“Hello Doctor! Are you headed to one of the other camps?”

“Yes, we just had a runner arrive. There’s been an attack of stoneants at Peak Brother’s Mine. The miners broke into a cavern full of them. They fought them off but there are a few injured. Nothing too serious, but I’ll be heading over to do some quick check-ups.” She hefted a large doctor’s bag and a fairly heavy looking satchel. nove(l)bi(n.)com

“Stoneants?”

“Yes, they’re dog sized ants with a grey mottled carapace. Still no improvement to your memory then?”

“No.” I intoned. I went into one of the stables and brought out a longhaired off-yellow mountain goat with a single horn curling up out of its forehead. “Here, Piddles has been looking feisty for a while now. He should get you there fast enough.”

“Thank you, Peter. How has your quest for sugar been going?” Opal asked as I helped her saddle up the goat and pack the saddlebags. It was well known in the camp by now that I was trying to get an achievement big enough to grant me access to some sugar.

“I’ve got some ideas.” Which was overselling it. Grim swore he’d force me to eat goat shit if I tried to mess with the minecarts again. I’m a pretty good amateur chemist after two decades of beer and wine making, but mechanics were never really my strong suit. Case in point....

“Did your ‘steam engine’ not work out?” Opal asked, looking at a sad hunk of metal in an empty stall. I’d spent about three days putting it together out of scrap metal, and at this point I think it’s the only thing more pathetic in this camp than the beer.

“No” I sighed. Sammy was always the handy one. I don’t know who she got it from; probably my dad. He always wished I’d be interested in putting together old cars with him, but I was more into my malts and mixes. Dad died two years ago. He never got to see his granddaughter get married. Come to think it... I’ll never get to walk her down the aisle. A single tear swept down my moustache and I wiped it away before Opal could notice.

“Well, good luck.” Opal broke me out of my reverie as she pounded down the path leading to the other camps. She narrowly avoided a large cart that was being pulled up the hill by a pair of anemic looking unigoats. The dwarf on the cart shouted in a high scratchy voice, “Hey, I’m driving ‘ere!” as she thundered past. The cart was quite eye-catching. It was an enclosed wagon with coloured scarves and paints adorning it. It had really odd sides, with what looked like double doors. A sign on the top proclaimed it: “Whistlemop’s Wonders”. The dwarf looked really odd too. He was extremely short for a dwarf, and he had no beard! Sacrilege! Instead, he had a supremely well-maintained blonde walrus moustache, thick glasses, and was completely bald. He was wearing a suit instead of armour. It was a mishmash of rainbow hues and exaggerated edging. It was a crime against fashion, and it was amazing.

“What’re you staring at beardie? You never seen a gnome before?” The gnome, because that’s what he was, asked as he pulled up to the stables.

“That would be Aaron and Tiara!” The gnome stepped back as, with a whizzing sound, the sides of his carriage sprang open. A wide variety of goods were displayed on racks and shelves within. “But where are my manners? My name is Whistlemop and Whistlemop’s Wonders is open for business!!” He pulled a small chain on the side of his carriage and a cheery whistle like a train horn sounded out around the camp. He looked around expectedly for a moment, and then another minute. I coughed.

“Where is everyone?” Whistlemop asked, looking confused.

“Well.... This is the prison camp. Nobody here really has much money. The only person who might have been interested was the dwarf that just left.”

“Ah.... What a waste.” Whistlemop sighed, crestfallen. He looked absolutely devastated as he peered back down the large hill he had climbed up to get here.

“It’s not too bad Whistle-mope, there’s nearly a dozen camps around here. I’m sure you’ll find someone that appreciates your goods.” I clamped my hand over my mouth. Damn that charisma!

“Excuse me?” He asked as he arched a wispy eyebrow.

“Uh, I was wondering what goods you have for sale? It’s a pretty impressive collection!” I desperately changed the subject as I went up to the now open side of his carriage. It was indeed impressive. He had pots, pans, scissors, needles, threads, cloth; just about anything a person would need. Then there was the more esoteric stuff: gadgets and gizmos, a couple of oddly coloured stones, as well as a bunch of different hunks of vegetable matter. Whistlemop came alongside me, a bit leery as he realized I was wearing manacles around my arms.

“What’s all this?” I asked, waving over the hunks of greenery. There were vines, flowers, herbs, and some suspicious looking squashes. Did those cabbages have eyes, did one just wink at me!?

“Dungeon materials.” Whistlemop re-assumed his flowery peddler persona. “I have some of the best goods straight out the dungeon. Fresh caught by the finest Guildsmen! I can assure you that you will not be able to get dungeon materials more cheaply or efficiently than through Whistlemop’s Wonders!”

“Uh huh,” I muttered distractedly. “What does all this stuff do?” I held up some vines and a gourd. Whistlemop leaned up to look more closely.

“Well, the yellow vines provide a rather slippery fluid. They’ve been a bit more in demand recently, and I heard there’s a new lubricant being made with it. That increases the price of course.” I nodded at that. Annie’s invention seemed to have caught on at the other mining camps. “The red vines are rather interesting. If you light one end on fire, a bright burning light travels along until it reaches the end of the vine. It’s been quite popular with children!” Hey, that was neat, kind of like a sparkler! "The gourd I can't discuss in polite company."

“Uh... Ok. What about this blue vine?”

“Ah, that one provides a sweet sap. It’s the most expensive thing on my cart I’m afraid.” He snatched it from my suddenly rigid fingers. This was the sweet sap vine! I needed it!

“How much is it!?” I nearly shouted, stepping forward.

“1 gold for a yard!” Whistlemop stepped back, sudden concern in his eyes and a quaver in his voice. I calmed myself and hunched my shoulders, tugging anxiously at my moustache. There was no way I could afford that.

“Do you have a sweet tooth young dwarf?” Whistlemop sounded almost apologetic. “I understand you’re at a hard time in your life, but look up, you have many years ahead of you. Work hard and you’re guaranteed to earn a Blessing at some point. A few Milestones after and you’ll earn enough to eat all the sweets you could desire!” Whistlemop reached up and patted me on the shoulder. “You said there are a few camps around here right? Could you point me in their direction? I can’t give you any Sweetsap Vine but I can provide some small recompense for your time.”

Whistlemop and I bent over a small map that he pulled out from his jacket. I spent the next 10 minutes or so pointing out where all the camps were and the best routes to get to them. Whistlemop was a pretty nice guy, and probably had way higher than a 9 in charisma. When we were all done Whistlemop thanked me and went to his cart to rummage around. After about 2 minutes of that he shouted an expletive and whirled around, pointing at me.

“You there! What is the meaning of this!?”