Balthazar sat on his adapted wooden stool inside his bazaar, tapping the tip of his pincer impatiently on the surface of his counter as he waited.

Morning had been slow, but he needed to do more trading. All those distractions and endless events that kept sidetracking him had gotten his merchanting hours way down recently, and he desperately wanted to catch up. Not only because trading was his main activity and favorite way to earn coin, but because as a merchant, it was his biggest source of experience for leveling up.

And leveling up was something he very much desired now.

Not because of any silly adventurer reasons, like wanting to become more powerful, or bragging rights, but simply because his current level simply wouldn’t cut it for going down into Semla Dungeon’s next floor—the mines.

And something compelled him to go down.

Something deeper than mere curiosity, or desire to find riches. It was as if a basic need itched in the back of his mind, pushing him to go further down. Balthazar couldn’t explain it, or fully rationalize it, and he couldn’t reject it either.

Denial made him keep ignoring whatever was really causing such a compelling instinct, afraid of confronting the possibility that he really shared a lot more with adventurers than he would like to admit. Or perhaps it was something else keeping him from digging too deep for answers.

Whichever the case, the crab needed to go further down into that dungeon, and in order to do that, he needed to level up, and that meant selling more junk.

That part suited him just fine.

“Ah, a customer!” the crustacean said as a young adventurer stepped into the bazaar. “Come on in. Browse my wares, or just let me know if you’re after something specific.”

The fresh-faced human walked in with eyes open wide and mouth half open, absorbing his surroundings with an expression of awe, as if that was his first time entering a bazaar. Balthazar had seen enough adventurers to know exactly when someone is brand new to the adventuring life, and even without pulling out his monocle, he could tell that boy was still wet behind the ears.

It took the adventurer a few seconds after hearing the merchant’s greeting to properly register and respond to it.

“Wait,” he said, finally focusing on the one who had spoken to him from behind the counter. “You’re a crab?!”

“Well, someone put all their points into perception,” Balthazar said with undisguised irony. “And to answer your next question, yes, I just talked to you.”

“Did you just tal—Oh, never mind,” the dazed-looking boy said. “I guess you get that a lot?”

“You have no idea.”

As the adventurer came closer to the counter, Balthazar looked him up and down with more attention. The basic black ragged clothes he wore, that looked like they had just been dragged out of a shipwreck at sea, told him this boy wasn’t just a newbie, he was actually still fresh off Star Beach.

“I’m still trying to figure out where I’m going,” the human said, eyes still wandering around the place, mesmerized by the bazaar’s stock of random junk. “But when I went up from the beach where I woke up, I found a road and started following it. I didn’t see anyone for hours, and I think I got a little lost while trying to find some place called Tudor’s Hall.”

“Ah, I see your problem,” said the crab. “You suck at following basic cardinal directions, because that dungeon is literally the opposite way from where you went. Don’t worry, that’s perfectly normal for an adventurer like you.”

“Oh,” the young man said, seemingly unsure of how to interpret the merchant’s snark. “I eventually found some local passing by, who told me I looked like a mess and that I should go to a merchant to get myself some proper gear. He pointed me this way, and said ‘Balthazar’s Bazaar’ would probably have some basic low-tier stuff for me to get started with.”

The crab nodded his eyestalks as the adventurer spoke.

“Yes, good to see the locals recognize who is the right merchant to point adventurers to around these parts.” He suddenly stopped nodding and his eyestalks jerked up with a start. “Wait a minute, basic low-tier

stuff?!”

“Anyway, I was hoping you’d have maybe some kind of weapon I could use to defend myself with?” the distracted adventurer said, spinning in place as he admired the many shelves filling the room. “I spotted some nasty slimes and a couple of wolves in the trees while traveling through the road, and while I managed to avoid them for now, I have this urge to go back out there and fight them, for some reason.”

“Perceptive and wiser than most adventurers, I see,” Balthazar grumbled, still feeling miffed. “But yes, I’m sure we can find you something.” He paused and cocked an eyestalk. “Hold on. You do have coin, right?”

The young human brought his gaze back to the merchant, looking slightly flustered.

“Uhm, as in… money?” he asked. “I’m afraid not.”

The crab exhaled with tired exasperation.

“Never mind, I take all I said back. You came to talk to a merchant empty-handed. Your smarts do match the average brand-new adventurer, after all.”

Balthazar walked around the counter, ready to start shooing the boy out of his bazaar before he consumed any more of his premium fresh pond air, but the adventurer held up both hands in front of his chest, palms open in a plea.

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“Wait, no, I’ve got something I could trade you!” he said.

The eight-legged merchant stopped and looked up at the newcomer with a glare of suspicion. “Whatcha got?”

Fumbling through his torn rags, the adventurer retrieved an object roughly the same size as a mango and presented it to the crab.

“I found this neat-looking shell on the beach where I woke up,” he said, smiling. “I don’t really know what it is, but it’s pretty, and I figured it could be valuable.”

Balthazar cocked an eyestalk at the conch in the boy’s hands. It had a pearlescent color with a pinkish hue, was intact, with not a single bit of damage, and clearly uninhabited by any creature.

But what was really pinching the crab’s brain was the nagging feeling that the conch felt vaguely familiar.

Have I seen this thing before somewhere?

“Will you take it?” the grinning boy asked, still holding the conch out.

“It’s a shell, kid,” the merchant said, rolling his eyes at his client. “I already got my own, and unless I start getting sea snails as clients here, I doubt I’d ever find a use for this conch. I don’t deal in useless junk.”

The crab started moving forward to shoo the human away again, but he pleaded once more.

“No, no, wait! There’s more to it! The conch talks!”

Balthazar let out a sudden laugh.

“Hah! Good one, kid. A conch that talks. Very creative. Sounds like something I’d make up.”

“I’m serious. I wasn’t sure if that was something normal around here, but when I picked it up and put it up to my ear, it told me it would snow soon. Sure enough, less than an hour later, it started snowing while I was going up the road!”

The crab laughed again. “Snowing in the middle of winter. Who could have predicted that, eh?”

“Please! It’s not a regular conch, I mean it!”

Balthazar looked into the boy’s eyes. He didn’t think the aspiring adventurer was lying, but that did not exclude the likely possibility that he was just another fool addled by the mind fog that descents upon new arrivals.

Grumbling to himself, the crab retrieved his monocle from his pouch and placed it in front of his left eye.

“Oh, nice monocle,” the boy said. “Doesn’t really match the winter hat you’re wearing, though.”

“Shush, kid. I’m appraising your conch.”

[Conch of Distant Calling]

[Speak your question into the conch and then listen for its answer. Reliable answers not guaranteed.]

“What the…” exclaimed the confused crustacean.

“I’m telling you, it talks!” the adventurer said. “Here, let me try showing you.”

The boy carefully brought the conch up near his face like someone cradling a baby.

“Will it snow again today?” he softly whispered into the conch’s opening.

After making his question, the human brought the seashell down to Balthazar’s level and leaned in too, so they could both listen.

After a second or two of silence, a distant and toneless voice spoke.

“Your question is very important to us. Please hold.”

As soon as the voice finished talking, the sound of the sea and distant waves started coming from inside the conch in a calm and soothing loop.

“Yeah, it does that most of the time, actually,” the adventurer said, standing back straight. “But you heard it! I wasn’t lying!”

Balthazar stared at the conch, still unable to shake the strange sensation that the item felt vaguely familiar. But whichever the case, it was definitely no ordinary seashell, and that meant it could be worth some good money in the claws of a skilled merchant.

But that did not mean the crab needed to share that belief with the adventurer.

“I don’t know, kid,” Balthazar said lazily. “You can hear the sea from any old conch you pick up on a beach, that’s nothing special.”

“But… but… you heard the voice befo—” the young man started, but the crab quickly raised a claw to silence him.

“However!” the merchant said. “Because you’re new to Mantell, and I want you to have a good first impression, I will trade you this pretty conch for a suitable weapon to get you started on your journey.”

The boy’s bafflement turned into visible excitement. “Really?!”

“Sure, let me just…”

Balthazar looked around, searching for something, and after quickly skittering outside for a moment, he returned with a rock in his pincer.

“Here it is,” the merchant said. “A fitting weapon for an adventurer such as yourself.”

The smile faded partially from the boy’s face. “What… is that?”

“It’s a rock, son. I thought you were more perceptive than that.”

The adventurer stared at the round, slightly jagged piece of gray mineral the size of an apple held in the crab’s pincer, and he blinked a couple of times.

“What am I supposed to do with that?!”

Balthazar rolled his eyestalks.

“Oh my, I really gave your cleverness way too much credit, didn’t I?” the merchant said, shaking his shell from side to side in disappointment. “It’s a stone. You hold it and bash stuff with it. It’s rock science, it doesn’t get any simpler than that!”

“I mean… I…” the bewildered adventurer said. “Couldn’t you get me something like a sword, or a spear, or something like that?”

“For a noisy conch? Hah! No, you get this rock, kid. Besides, have you never heard that rock beats scissors?”

The boy frowned. “How is that—”

“Ah, I forgot!” Balthazar exclaimed, waving the rock around in his pincer as he spoke. “You’re new around these parts, so you never heard of the Scissor Bandits. Very dangerous. Definitely keep an eye out for them on your travels. But if you do cross paths with them, you will be prepared. Do you know why?”

The confused human squinted slightly. “Because… rock… beats—”

“Because rock beats scissors, exactly! You got it!”

Skittering closer, the crab grabbed the conch from his hands and placed it on a nearby table before quickly shoving the rock into the boy’s grasp.

“There you go,” Balthazar said, while ushering the dazed adventurer to the exit. “Now that you’re properly equipped with your very first weapon, you’re ready to take on the world. Tudor’s Hall is that way. Don’t worry, I’m sure you will do fine there. They’re very welcoming of newbies like you. Bye now!”

Still staring with a stunned expression at the rock in his hand, the young man staggered up the path back to the main road.

“T-thanks… I guess?” he said, looking utterly confused.

“You’re very welcome!” said the crab, placing both pincers on his hips. “Remember to watch out for those tricky Scissor Bandits!”

As he watched one adventurer leave, he saw another arrive.

“Did you just sell a rock to that guy?” Rye asked, looking over his shoulder as he reached the entrance of the bazaar.

“They’re not rocks,” the crab said. “They’re minerals, Marie!”

The archer cocked an eyebrow at him. “Who’s Marie?”

“No idea!” Balthazar replied with a shrug. “Anyway, what’s with the travel bag? You brought me some goodies to trade?”

Rye glanced back at the sack slung over his shoulder.

“No. I actually came here to say goodbye,” he said. “I’m leaving.”