by Mark Mulle
Chapter Four
The day began, and Steve eagerly jumped out of bed as he prepared himself for the adventure that would take place today. He fixed himself a quick bite to eat and headed to Chance, and as he did, he wondered how long this job would take. He was eager to explore and do work, sure, but he wanted time to himself too.
He entered Chance and went inside the weapons shop. Wendy was there, and she smiled as she saw Steve come in. “Just in time. I have the details set up.” She handed Steve a slip of paper. It had instructions on where to go and told him to present this to the people who had gathered the materials for her. On the bottom, it had her signature, which looked better than anything Steve could write. “There is no time limit, but I’d like to have them before sunset, if that’s okay with you. It should only take a few hours though.”
Steve nodded and grabbed the slip of paper, putting it into his pocket. Wendy also handed him a bottle. “Here, it’s filled with water. In case you get thirsty. There’s also a clean stream close by where you can fill up. The bottle’s on me.”
Wendy also handed him a steel sword from the display case. “Another thing that’s on me. If you encounter hostile mobs or thieves, give them a good slash. You can keep the sword, but if you lose it, I won’t give you another one.”
Steve grabbed the bottle and sword, thanking her for her kindness, and headed out of there. Steve wanted to give her the goods as soon as he could so he could make a good impression. Not only that but he was eager to try out his new sword.
Coming from a small town, self-defense wasn’t needed, so swords weren’t all that popular. It was mainly limited to children getting wooden swords to play with. Steve remembered having his own wooden sword all of the time, and he was actually quite good for a child. He remembered taking out his peers quite easily, and managing to do some pretty cool swings. But he accidentally broke his parents’ window while playing with it too roughly, so that was the end of his sword. Now that he was grown up, Steve realized that he had to relearn the sword, this time with a blade that was actually sharp.
Steve left Chance and looked at the letter. Directly north from here, about a few miles, there was a mine where the weapons shop got the materials from. That was where Steve would meet the people up at. He set off, but not before practicing with his sword a little bit. Steve swung it around in different directions, trying to get the feel for it again. The sword was a delicate thing that needed to be swung properly, so he did that while walking. He ran into a tree and decided that it would make good practice. He put everything down and started attacking the tree from its side. The sword was actually sharp, and it cut through the trunk easily. The tree fell down, and Steve continued on. His practice was cut short, no pun intended, but at least he was getting the hang of his sword. All he needed to do now was to find the mine where the materials were.
He continued walking, and as he did, he heard some grass rustling. He turned around, only to see that a Creeper was trying to sneak up on him. It’s a good thing Steve heard that, or he’d be into pieces. Steve immediately turned around and charged toward the Creeper, bringing his sword down between the creature’s eyes before it could even start its infamous hiss. Because of this, the creature fell over without even expanding. He breathed a sigh of relief. He had overpowered the Creeper easily, but unless he was on his toes all of the time, next time might not be so lucky.
He trekked on, feeling the sweat pour down from his brow. It was one of the hotter days, and Steve took a swig from his bottle. He eventually ran across the stream, and he filled his bottle up with that. He took another drink. Ahh, it tasted great. Better than any other kind of water, that was for sure. Now he had to continue on. It had been a few hours, and all he wanted to do was to get the materials and head back and get paid.
He eventually ran into a man covered in rags who was sitting on a rock. He had long, scraggly white hair and a flowing white beard. He stood up, holding himself up with a cane. “Where are you going, sonny?” the old man asked.
“I’m going to get some materials and bring them back to the weapons shop,” Steve said. “Why you ask?”
“Just curious. I’m just sitting here, thinking about life, and am curious to know what other travelers are up to. The mine is close, however, so I wish you all of the luck.”
Steve nodded and continued on, thinking that the old man, while harmless, was a bit off his rocker. Oh well, the mine was coming up soon, and Steve was glad that his journey was almost halfway over. He saw the ground change from grass to stone and then saw a gated place that had a tall iron fence surrounding it. He could see the mine from beyond the iron fence, and the only way to it was through the gate which led to a building which was being blocked by two guards.
“Halt! Who goes there? This is the Queen’s Mine, and unless you have permission, you can’t enter!”
Steve took out his slip of paper, and the guard looked at it. “Very sorry for asking, sir. There just has been a surge of thieves around here. Well, right this way.”
Steve was led inside of the house and was ushered to a counter. Behind the counter was an older man wearing a suit. A giant sack was placed on the counter.
“Hello, sir, I’m assuming you’re the delivery boy. We have an amazing haul for the shop this time. We struck gold and diamonds, so it’s mostly filled with that. Deliver it back to the shop.”
Steve picked up the bag in exchange for the paper. It was heavy, but it also was somewhat easy to carry, though he’d probably be worn down when everything was over with. Steve thanked the man and carried the sack outside, and as he did, he walked down the path to Chance.
On the way, he encountered the old man sitting on the rock again. “Got anything good in there?” he asked.
“Oh yeah, tons of gold and diamonds. I’m heading back n—”
Steve felt steel pressing against his neck. “Oh no, you aren’t. This is mine.”
Steve felt the bag he was carrying get lifted off of him, and then the steel was gone. When he turned around, Steve saw the old man was carrying it, a dagger in his hand. The old man grabbed his long beard and pulled it off, revealing that it was fake. He then pulled off his hair, revealing that it was a wig. His posture straightened up, and he no longer looked feeble but instead like a man still fairly young. His hair was tied back in a blonde ponytail, and his rags were taken off, revealing the green tunic underneath them.
“Ha, I fooled ya! I’m Bartholomew, the great thief! I can’t believe that disguise worked!”
Steve charged toward Bartholomew with his sword, but then Bartholomew threw something on the ground. Smoke began to rise, and Steve was blinded just enough for Bartholomew to escape.