At the sound, the three youths on the porch sat up and peered at her with curious eyes. They wore mismatched clothes, half of sturdy cloth and half of leather and hide.

  The youngest was about half Celia’s size, a little boy with green skin and yellow eyes, and short frizzy black hair that reminded Celia of her own. He hid a turtle behind his back, and stared at her for only a second, before his gaze slid to Threadbare and his jaw dropped open.

  The one in the middle was built like a block of stone that someone had put muscles on. Thick and squat and about as tall as Celia, wearing a crudely-stitched suit of leather armor. He had the hilt of a battleaxe hanging from his belt, and though his skin was pink, he had his brother’s yellow eyes and two small tusks poking out over his upper lips. The overall effect was if someone had poured a boar into a human skin. He smiled and waved.

  The third one was tall, taller than Celia, with wispy hair on his upper lip. Green-skinned like the youngest, he was all lean muscle, dressed in a bone-beaded leather shirt, a hide cloak, and a pair of trousers. His black hair was drawn back in a ponytail, and he had a bow slung on his back. Unlike the youngest one, his eyes were human and gray. Much like Mordecai’s, Celia thought. In fact…

  “You never told me you had kids!” She burst out. But Mordecai wasn’t looking at her anymore. Mordecai was moving up, staring at the beaded curtain that led into the darkness of the hut. Then he drew his knife.

  Celia stepped back, fumbled for her own daggers-

  -and promptly dropped it, jumping backward in fear, as something inside the hut roared and charged through the curtain, bowling Mordecai over as they rolled across the grass.

  It was green and brown and roaring, and it battered him with a heavy club, as Mordecai fought for his life, knife flashing. Blood sprayed and for a second she dared hope-

  -but then he reeled back as the club hit his face with a CRACK, and Celia gasped as the two separated, staggering back to take stock of each other.

  It wore a painted wooden mask, she saw that, and stood like a human did… broad and scarred and green and muscled, taller even than Mordecai, clad in a leather halter top and loincloth. Black, dreadlocked hair flew out from behind the mask as it snarled, and stalked back and forth like a beast, yellow eyes shifting in the holes of the mask as it stalked Mordecai. The skull-topped club shook, as the creature feinted, testing for weakness, testing for hesitation.

  Then Celia blinked, as she realized what the curves under that halter top meant.

  “That’s a woman?” She asked, putting her hand to her face.

  The creature spared her a glance, filled with malice that she’d never seen and then Mordecai was on the thing, stabbing desperately, and with a great wail and a blur of motion the fight was back on. Celia turned tail and ran, hugging her bear tight, getting way the hell away as fast as possible. She reached the treeline, turned…

  …only to see a limp Mordecai being dragged by one leg, hat off, into the hut.

  “No!” She shouted, dropping Threadbare, and pulling out her daggers. “Animus Blade! Animus Blade! Anim-”

  “Hey, s’all right,”

  “Huh?” She dropped the last dagger, stared up at the tall, thin youth with the green skin. He’d worked his way around while she’d been distracted. The two blades whirled around, aimless, as she stared at him, nonplussed.

  “Yeah, this is what they do,” The sturdy boy said, walking up from the side, with the smallest boy in tow. “Dad was away too long without telling Mom first, so first they’re gonna fight. Then she’ll heal him up and they’ll get to the other part.”

  “That was your… that’s his wife?” Celia realized. “Oh my gods.” Then her eyes narrowed. “Wait, what’s the other part?”

  “Uh…” The tall one shot a look at the fat one, who put his hands over the youngest one’s ears. Then he told her.

  Celia blushed.

  “Yeah, we don’t stick around for that part. Wanna come fishing with us?” The fat boy smiled.

  “Yes. That would… yes.” Celia blushed more. Then as she followed them into the woods, a thought struck her, an old fancy, and she glanced back at the now-quiet hut. “Um. I read… there was a book, once. It had a knight on the front, and a lady with her shirt half-off. I think it was Mom’s. It was… interesting.”

  “Yeah?” The fat boy asked.

  “Do you think, ah, what, do you think it’s like that?” Celia asked, with something like desperation.

  There was a pause. The three boys looked at Celia, then simultaneously the four kids, and Threadbare, turned to look at the hut.

  With a crash, Mordecai’s head and torso rammed through the straw. He shot an arm through, grabbed one of the larger skulls, and threw it back inside. His wife shrieked, and pulled him back in, as he fought desperately for a handhold.

  “No,” the tallest one said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “I rather fink it ent like that.”

  Feeling entirely out of her depth, Celia retrieved her fallen knife, and followed the trio into the woods.

  THREADBARE’S CHARACTER SHEET

  Name: Threadbare Age: 8 days

  Jobs: Greater Toy Golem Level 7 Bear Level 4 Ruler Level 2 Scout 2

  Attributes: Strength: 47 Constitution: 54 Hit Points: 145 Armor: 22 Intelligence: 37 Wisdom: 55(60) Sanity: 92(97) Mental Fortitude: 12 Dexterity: 23 Agility: 33 Stamina: 65 Endurance: 32 Charisma: 34(39) Willpower: 27 Moxie: 61(66) Cool: 20 (30) Perception: 37 Luck: 34 Fortune: 71 Fate: 7

  Generic Skills Brawling - Level 9 Climb - Level 6 Clubs and Maces - Level 7 Dagger - Level 4 Dodge - Level 1 Ride - Level 1 Stealth - Level 3 Swim - Level 1

  Greater Toy Golem Skills Adorable – Level 11 Gift of Sapience – Level NA Golem Body – Level 5 Innocent Embrace - Level 2 Magic Resistance –Level 4

  Bear Skills Animalistic Interface – NA Claw Swipes – 6 Forage – 6 Scents and Sensibility – 6 Toughness – 7

  Ruler Skills Emboldening Speech - Level 1 Identify Subject - Level 1 Noblesse Oblige - Level 1 Royal Request - Level 1 Simple Decree - Level 1

  Scout Skills Camouflage - Level 1 Firestarter - Level 1 Keen Eye - Level 1 Sturdy Back - Level 5 Wind’s Whisper - Level 1

  Equipment Rod of Baronly Might - (Level 5 Club, CHA +5, WIS +5, +10 Cool )

  Quests

  A Wildling Brood 2

  “So I’m Garon,” the fat boy said. He pointed at the tall youth who was walking ahead of them. “That’s Jarrik. The small one with the turtle is Bak’shaz.”

  “I’m Celia. This is Threadbare.”

  Threadbare waved, and Garon chuckled. “So you’re old man Caradon’s daughter, then?”

  “Um, yes, how did you know?’

  “Not too many moving teddy bears out in these parts. Has to be an animator and I don’t know any in town. We used to have one as a neighbor but she was kind of crazy.”

  “Oh yer talkin’ about Mimsy?” Jarrik spoke up.

  “You know she hated that name.”

  “Pssh. She wanted ta bake me into a pie.”

  “That was only ever a rumor.”

  “Yeah, right, no baker needs an oven that big. And yer can’t tell me them cages was all fer animals.”

  “Whatever. Her thing was animated gingerbread men. And baking. I think she might have been trying to find an unlock.”

  “Summat mixed with cultist, prolly.”

  “Hey, that was never proven.”

  “What happened to her?” Celia asked, curious. She didn’t know any other animators than her Daddy. Didn’t know many people, really, when you got down to it, but this Mimsy shared a job with her so it made her more intriguing.

  Garon shrugged. “Bad business. Someone pushed her into her own oven.”

  “I still say she crawled in herself,” Jarrik grumped.

  “Whatever. She’s gone. But yeah, animated gingerbread men. Less fun then you’d think, between the bad weather we get out here and the bugs.”

  “But…” Bak’shaz spoke up for the first time, and the two older boys immediately stopped talking, and looked at him. Celia, her mouth half open to ask a question, managed to shut up. The little boy’s voice was high-pitched, and creaky, higher than hers. “But Mimzal’s gingerbread men all said ‘animi’ in their status. His says greater toy golem.” He pointed at Threadbare.

  “You can read status screens?” Celia burst out. “That’s amazing!”

  Instantly the little boy smiled widely, showing all his teeth, and stuck his hands in his overall pockets. “Ow!” His smile disappeared, and he pulled out a turtle, that was chewing on his thumb. “Okay yes Shelly it’s feeding time. We’re almost to the creek. Please be patient.” He cranked up his smile again, and the turtle let go.

  Threadbare felt strange. That kid suddenly seemed a lot nicer looking. Totally a good guy, the golem could tell, though he couldn’t say why.

  “It’s not as amazing as you think,” Jarrik said. “It’s not as awesome as scouts, we can use Scouter to start reading people at tenth level.”

  “Which you haven’t got yet, so shut up,” Garon said, amicably. “Bak’shaz is a Tamer. He’s all about making friends with monsters, and collecting them as companions. So one of his abilities lets him look at monster status screens. And it looks like golems count as monsters.”

  The woods thinned a bit, and Celia started to hear running water ahead. But she barely paid attention to where she was going, fascinated by the conversation and her new… friends? Hopefully friends. “Oh, uh, yeah, my Daddy made him. Golems are special animations that you don’t have to renew every time their spell runs out. They’re pretty tough.”

  Bak’shaz nodded so hard his frizzy hair wobbled, still staring fascinated at Threadbare.

  “I didn’t know he was a greater golem, though.” Celia looked down at Threadbare, and the little bear hugged her. “I thought Daddy was still working on those. I knew he was special, but I guess Daddy wanted me to have him to protect me. You’re the first of his successes!”

  Threadbare shrugged.

  “What’s so great about greater golems?” Garon asked.

  “Everything. They’re smart. Regular golems are as dumb as animi, but greaters are as smart as people.”

  Threadbare nodded. “See?” Celia grinned. “He agrees.”

  “Can he fight?”

  “Oh yeah. He helped me fight off a gropevine when Mister Mordecai was teaching me to be a scout.”

  “Wait, Dad taught yer to be a scout?” Jarrik asked, looking unconvinced.

  “Um, yes, why?”

  “It’s just that yer ‘bout to walk right inta a big patchof poison ivy.”

  One hasty scramble, a dropped bear, and a minimal amount of chaos later, they reached the creek, Threadbare toddling along behind them as Bak’shaz kept peeking at the little golem.

  “I’m not a very good scout yet, I guess,” Celia sat on one of the big rocks near the water.

  “Did he take ya out to Oblivion Point?” Jarrik asked.

  “Oh. Yes.”

  “Yeah, thass a good run. If Dad taught you how to be a scout, yer a scout. Good comes wi’ practice.”

  Garron grinned. Wow, his teeth were sharp. “Jarrik is Dad’s son, through and through. Wants to be a scout and an archer just like his old man.”

  The way he said that was weird. “Wait, if he’s his Dad’s son… You’re… not your Father’s son?”

  “What? Oh no, no. We’re all his sons. It’s just I don’t want to follow in his footsteps, that’s all.”

  “He wants ter be a mercenary,” Jarrik explained. “Do ya have a fishing pole?”

  “No, sorry. I can watch, it’s all right. Wait, mercenary is a job? I just thought most of them were knights or archers or other fighting jobs.”

  Jarrik hunted around found a stick, started tying some twine to it. “Oh don’t get ‘im started-“

  Too late. Garon grinned widely, and spread his arms. “Let me tell you about my awesome career path!”

  Bak’shaz rolled his eyes and started digging in the mud, putting Shelly down to do so. Jarrik sighed, and worked on the makeshift fishing rod. Garon continued, oblivious. “Most of the fighting types come from the four warrior classes, it’s true, but sometimes they don’t fight for money. Mercenaries, now? We fight, but it’s secondary to getting paid. In fact, we’ve got stuff that lets us fight better so long as we’ve got money! And we always get paid.”

  “Yeah that’s one of his skills,” Jarrik said, in a sing-song voice, clearly copying his brother. “If you give him a quest and stiff him on the reward he can give you a permanent luck and fate debuff.”

  Garron punched his shoulder, and Jarrik yelped.

  “Wow!” Celia leaned in. “That actually sounds pretty good.”

  “That’s not all!” Garon grinned, rummaging around in his pack and pulling out his own fishing rod. “When I’m on a quest I get bonuses to every attribute when I’m doing something to complete that quest.”

  “So wait,” The girl frowned. “If mercenary isn’t one of the warrior classes, what is it?”

  “It’s one a tha wanderer classes,” Jarrik said. “Explorer, Mercenary, Merchant, and Scout.”

  “Yep. We’re made to travel. I won’t be around here forever.” Garon glanced over to Bak’shaz. “How are you coming on those worms?”

  “Shelly eats first.” Bak’shaz pointed at the turtle.

  “Right, right. Don’t leave us hanging, I want to eat tonight too.”

  “He’s got you covered.” Bak’shaz pointed into the creek.

  The three other kids turned, to see Threadbare in the shallows, claws hooked into a fat trout, dragging it ashore. Another forage level and point of dexterity achieved!

  “Okay, I like this little guy,” Jarrik said. “I see how he got you through the scout test.”

  “We kind of helped each other,” Celia smiled. “But yeah, he’s great.”

  Threadbare toddled up and laid the flopping fish at her feet. Garon leaned down, grabbed it, and casually beat it against a rock until it stopped moving.

  Celia jumped a bit, then settled down, but Jarrik caught it. “Woss wrong?”

  “I… guess I’m just new to killing. Ah, things.”

  “Well yer a girl, I spec it’s diff’rent fer girls.”

  “Maybe?” She shrugged. “I don’t have any sisters. It’s just me and Daddy, most of the time. And Emmet, but he doesn’t do much. And Threadbare, now.” She smiled down at the little bear. “Thanks for the fish.”

  He patted her knee, then started to amble back to the creek. “No, no, I remember what happened the last time you got into running water,” She scooped him up. Then juggled him to one side, as Jarrik handed her a rod, with a freshly hooked worm writhing on it.

  “Ya know how this works?”

  “I’ve… read about it.”

  They spent a good hour fishing. After a bit of prodding, Bak’shaz made him a little rod, too, though Threadbare took care of gathering his own worms. It bumped up his forage skill again, so he figured that was worth the effort.

  And finally, he caught something-

  You have unlocked the generic skill: Fishing!

  Your Fishing skill is now level 1!

  -and was promptly yanked into the water. Sure, he had the strength of a weedy human at this point, but he still had the mass of a twelve-inch tall teddy bear.

  Here we go again, he thought, as the waters closed around his head. Irritated, he flailed around, looking for purchase.

  Your Swim skill is now level 2!

  He did manage to get his feet to the bottom. Unlike the Icewine river that ran past Celia’s house, this little creek was much slower. Threadbare came to a halt, and walked along the bottom, emerging up on shore…

  …and staring right into the face of a creature he’d never seen before. It was four times his size, with a grubby snout, two squinty little eyes, and hooves for feet. It had a ridge of hair down its muddy back, and two tusks that positively dwarfed Garon’s sticking up from its lower jaw.

  The boar, which had been enjoying a peaceful drink up until now, snorted.

  Threadbare considered his options, and waved.

  The boar’s eyes narrowed.

  “Oh boy,” came Jarrik’s whisper from upriver. The boar shuffled back, glaring between the tall half-orc and the little bear.

  “They’re over here,” Jarrik called, as loudly as he dared, then froze. The young boar stared his direction for a while, then looked back to Threadbare. It snuffled him, and Threadbare snuffled back.

  Your Scents and Sensibility skill is now level 7!

  Then Celia burst through the trees and the boar whipped around to face her, squealing and pawing the ground.

  “Hey!” Bak’shaz burst out behind her, a big goofy grin on his face, with a dead fish in each hand, and Shelly clamped on for dear life to his hair. “Let’s be friends!”

  The boar hesitated.

  Behind Bak’shaz, axe out, Garon moved up, step by step, slowly. “You sure you want to try this, Bakky?”

  “I always wanted a boar.” Bak’shaz never looked away from the pig. He approached, step by step. “Besides, I got my Beast Truce.”

  Celia froze, a stuffed animal in both hands, and looked over to Jarrik. The thin scout nodded. “Let ‘im try. If it dunt work…” Jarrik tapped his bow.

  The boar and Threadbare watched Bak’shaz approach, holding the fish, grin up the whole time. Eventually the smell of the fish became too strong, and the boar sniffed once, twice, then paced forward and tore it from the boy’s hands, slurping it down in three crunching bites.

  “Tame Monster!” Bak’shaz said. Green light flared…

  …and the boar instantly shrunk to half its former size.

  “What?” Celia said, staring.

  Behind her, Jarrik and Garon relaxed. “It means it worked,” Garon said. “He’s Bak’shaz’s pet now.”

  “Yeah, but it’s a manageable size fer him until he gets ta a higher level,” Jarrik explained.