Ren's boots sank into the damp earth just beyond the city's western gate. The morning was cool and misty, the kind of damp that seeped into your clothes and stayed. He adjusted the strap of his satchel and kept walking, the job slip from the guild board tucked securely in his pocket. *Stream clearing, minor beasts, tools provided.* It wasn't glamorous, but it was a start.
The road was quiet. A few farmers passed by with carts, their faces shadowed by wide-brimmed hats. A pair of adventurers on horseback rode past without a glance, their cloaks damp with dew. Ren kept his eyes forward, his mind already working through the steps of the job. Clear the blockage. Deal with the pests. Get paid.
He found the marker post just as the slip described, a weathered piece of wood with a faded arrow pointing down a narrow path. A man leaned against a cart piled with tools—rakes, a net, a crude spear. He looked up as Ren approached.
"You the guild hand?" the man asked, his voice rough but not unkind.
"Yes. The stream job."
"Name's Harl. That's my field down there." He jerked a thumb toward the slope where the land dipped into a tangle of reeds and murky water. "Water's backing up again. Something's blocking the flow near the old willow. Probably bograts. Nasty things. They won't kill you, but they'll ruin your boots if you let 'em."
Ren nodded. He'd never seen a bograt, but the name told him enough. "You have gloves?"
Harl raised an eyebrow, then rummaged under the cart seat and tossed over a pair of thick, stained gloves. "You done this before?"
"No," Ren said, pulling them on. "But I can learn."
Harl studied him for a moment, then grunted. "Just don't get bit. Their teeth carry fever."
The path down to the stream was muddy and steep. Ren moved carefully, his eyes scanning the ground. The air smelled of wet earth and decaying plants. The stream itself was clogged with a mat of branches, leaves, and what looked like old nesting material. The water pooled behind it, dark and still.
He saw movement in the reeds—a quick, skittering motion. He hefted the rake he'd taken from the cart and waited.
A bograt burst from the cover of the reeds. It was about the size of a large cat, with slick, dark fur and small, hateful eyes. It charged, teeth bared.
Ren didn't flinch. He sidestepped and brought the rake down hard, pinning the creature to the ground. It thrashed, snarling, but he was already moving. One quick strike with the knife he'd bought in the city, and it went still.
Two more came at him from the side. He moved back, keeping his footing on the firmer ground near the bank. He caught one with the rake, stunning it, and dispatched it quickly. The other tried to dart away, but he was faster. He hooked its leg with the tool and finished it with the knife.
The silence that followed was broken only by the gentle sound of water beginning to trickle through the dam.
Ren wiped his blade clean on the grass and turned to the blockage. He worked methodically, using the rake to pull apart the tangled mass of debris. It was slow, wet work, but he didn't rush. He cleared the smaller branches first, then the larger ones, letting the water flow gradually increase.
Twice, he heard rustling from within the dam, but nothing else emerged. Maybe they had fled. Maybe they were waiting. He stayed alert.
By the time the last of the blockage was cleared, the stream was flowing freely again, the water cutting a clean path through the mud. He straightened, his back aching slightly, and looked over his work. It was done.
He walked back to the cart where Harl was waiting.
"Water's moving," Harl said, nodding toward the stream. "You get bit?"
"No."
"Good." Harl gestured to the three dead bograts lying near the wheel. "You keeping those?"
Ren blinked. "The rats?"
"Your kill, your right. Skins aren't worth much, but the alchemists sometimes buy the glands. Teeth, too, for charms."
Ren hadn't thought about that. "You can have them. For the use of the tools."
Harl grunted, but there was a hint of respect in his eyes. "Suit yourself. Come back if we post again. You work clean."
Ren nodded. He left the bograts where they lay and started back toward the city.
The walk back felt shorter. The sun was higher now, burning off the mist. His clothes were damp and muddy, but he felt a sense of accomplishment. It was a small thing, clearing a stream, but it was real. He had done it himself.
He returned to the guild hall just as the noon bell was ringing. The place was busier now, filled with adventurers turning in jobs or looking for new ones. The woman at the counter looked up as he approached.
"Back already?" she said.
"Stream job west of the gate. Done. Three bograts. Water's flowing."
She made a note in her ledger. "Harl vouch for you?"
"He was there."
She nodded and counted out nine bronze coins from a lockbox. "Standard pay, plus two extra for the pests. Nine total."
Ren took the coins without counting them. "Thank you."
He found a quiet corner and took out his notebook. He recorded the job, the pay, what he'd learned. *Bograts. Salvage rights. Trust built with local.* It wasn't much, but it was a beginning.
As he was writing, a young man with a shortbow approached him. "Hey. You're the one who took the bograt job, right?"
Ren looked up. "Yes."
"Name's Calen. I saw that posting. Heard you handled it well." He grinned. "Not many newbies take those jobs seriously."
"It needed doing."
"Exactly." Calen leaned against the wall. "I've got a lead on another one. North side. Collapsed shed, blocked drainage. Pays twelve bronze, maybe more if there's beasts. Want to team up? I could use someone who doesn't mind getting dirty."
Ren considered. Working with someone could be risky, but Calen seemed straightforward. And he could learn more about how the guild operated. "When?"
"Tomorrow morning. North gate after breakfast."
"I'll be there."
Calen clapped him on the shoulder. "Good. See you then."
Ren watched him go, then returned to his notes. *Teaming up. Potential ally.* He circled the word *ally*. It was too soon to tell, but it was a possibility.
The next morning, Ren was at the north gate as promised. The air was cool, and a light drizzle was falling. Calen arrived shortly after, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a cheerful expression.
"You're early," Calen said.
"You're on time," Ren replied.
They set off together, walking in comfortable silence. The job site was a small farm on the city's outskirts. A shed had collapsed after the recent rains, and the runoff had blocked a drainage ditch, flooding part of an orchard.
They surveyed the damage. The shed was a loss, but the drainage was the priority. Ren marked out a new path for the water while Calen started digging. They worked well together, with little need for words. Ren guided the water away from the orchard while Calen cleared the debris.
By midday, the water was flowing properly again. They salvaged what wood they could from the shed and propped up the remaining structure to prevent further collapse.
The farm's caretaker, a grumpy old man with one shoe, inspected their work and handed over twelve bronze coins without a word.
"Charming fellow," Calen said as they walked back.
"He paid," Ren said.
Calen laughed. "True enough."
Back at the guild, they reported the job and split the pay. As they were leaving, Calen turned to Ren. "You know, if you're looking for steady work, there's a crew that specializes in repair jobs. Good pay, and you don't have to worry about monsters most of the time."
"I'll think about it," Ren said.
He returned to his room that evening, tired but satisfied. He had earned twenty-one bronze in two days. It wasn't much, but it was a start. He cleaned his tools, sharpened his knife, and updated his notes.
As he lay in bed, he thought about what came next. More jobs. More coin. Maybe even a team. He wasn't just surviving anymore. He was building something.
And for the first time, that felt like enough.