Chores & Memories

Emily grunted as she lifted the ancient oak ladder. Everything was either made of stone or oak, she thought dismally. Then she wrenched it to the left, finding a secure footing and a balance against the chimney’s fieldstones. The mason had been her father but his profession was a blacksmith and it showed. It was the chimney to her families Inn - The Boar’s Tusk. Her mom cooked and cleaned, her Pa made horse shoes and Emily, well she seemed to do everything else.

Their handyman Tulley was an old hobbit who’d been a part of the place since Emily could remember. He brushed past her and proceeded to bound up the ladder like some skittish squirrel. She remained below, securing the now twisting ladder as it shuffled and squeaked with the hobbit’s quick, jerky motions. Then a sneeze came on. A weed or some mystery plant her mom had sown under the windows, had found her nose. At boring times like these her mind wandered …

“Aye, that blue glowin finger what’s streamin from me ring to yer belt. That says they know each other,” the dwarf growled.

“For a bowl of this night’s gruel, I’ll tell yer a tale of treasure and why me ring and that pike are marked as one.”

That’s how it started, and the memory of the previous night only made her current job that more infuriating. The dwarf was her Pa’s partner back in the day, when he’d been dumb and filled with piss and … well, treasure!

It turned out they’d hidden some treasure that was supposed to be ransom for a prince. How they’d gotten it, she couldn’t recall. One thing was certain, her dagger and the dwarf’s ring were enchanted, marked by a wizard or something, and the rest was still out there.