Rick sighed, looking down at his feet. He did not know why he had to wear the strange rune on his ankle, but there was no removing it.
Trespassers, the police officer, an elderly gnome with a beard white like snow and thick like a bear's pelt, had told them. Now they could never even have a hope of finding a job in Mirstone.
Even if Rodge, the mayor, had wanted to hire them, there was no going back for them.
"Hey, at least we ate yesterday. That is still something," Ralf was his rock. The man still believed they could one day strike it big.
The gold from the fairy's socks had been confiscated, being deemed as goods which came from the forest, and as such, goods which were illegally gained.
Which was even the truth. Lin had not given up his socks to be buried willingly.
