One humid afternoon in late summer, Ryel Layn sat at her desk at Adventures For Hire headquarters with her feet propped up on her desk, reading her favorite book – an atlas of Crex and the surrounding area. Just as Ryel was getting to her favorite part a sturdy looking dwarf woman entered the room from an adjacent office.
“Good morning, Captain,” Ryel greeted her, pulling her muddy boots off her desk and sitting up straight like she hadn't been lounging around in the heat of the day.
The “Captain” was Kungra Halfbeard, the owner of Adventures for Hire and Ryel's mentor. She had given Ryel a job leading adventure tours and a place to stay when she arrived in Crex that spring. Halfbeard later said that there was something about Ryel that reminded her of her younger self, but she would never be any more specific than that. Ryel liked to imagine it was because she was such a capable thief that she reminded Halfbeard of a time when her own hands were quite a bit more sticky.
The Captain made Ryel promise not to get up to any thievery while under her employ, which was hard for Ryel at first. But then she realized a steady paycheck is worth quite a lot to her so she had suppressed her urges to engage in petty crime for the five or so months she had been at Adventures For Hire.
Captain Halfbeard dumped a pile of scrolls on Ryel's desk from a basket. “I need you to hand out these fliers in the tourist district,” she told the elf. “Instead of just sitting around on your arse growing moss on the bottom of your boots.”
“Hey, I led a tour this morning! The customers were so happy they even tipped me,” Ryel rebutted.
Halfbeard pointed out that the morning tour ended two hours prior and Ryel had been idle since. Sheepishly, Ryel tucked the fliers under her arm and made her way a few blocks away to a busy corner in the Lower City's tourist district, doing her best to get the attention of passers by.
“Have an adventure at Adventures For Hire, where heroism is 100% guaranteed!” She barked while holding out a rolled up flier toward a group of human men who took the scroll and cheered, “woo!” Clearly they were making the most of their afternoon.
After an hour or so of this Ryel had managed to only hand out about half of her fliers and she decided to make her way back toward Adventures For Hire headquarters. On the way she passed a vendor on the street who caught her attention.
“Infinibags! Get your Infinibags here!” the gnome vendor called gesturing to a selection of shoulder bags spread out on a rug before him. “You there, miss! You look like you've got your hands full with those scrolls. How about a nice bag to carry them home in?”
Infinibags were incredibly useful items, but quite expensive. They held far more things than something their size ever should thanks to proprietary enchantments placed on them by the manufacturer. A single Infinibag could hold dozens of books for a scholar, huge amounts of supplies for an adventurer, or a large number of scrolls for an elf with her hands full.
“How much?” Ryel asked the vendor.
“10 gold pieces," he replied. “You won't find a better deal anywhere.”
10 gold pieces? That was only a fraction of what these bags normally cost! Ryel already knew she wanted to fill the bag with her favorite maps and atlases as soon as she got back to her apartment. She smiled as she purchased a bag, threw it over her shoulder, and shoved her remaining scrolls into it.
“You made a good choice, miss. You won't be disappointed," the vendor told her as she walked off.
Upon returning to Adventures For Hire, Ryel dropped her new bag on her desk and plopped into her chair. Captain Halfbeard greeted her.
“Back so soon, Omelette?” the Captain said, using her favorite nickname for Ryel.
“Not many bites,” Ryel replied. “Tourists barely wanted to even look at me today. But I got this great bag on the way back.” Ryel showed off her plum purple bag and unzipped it.
“Hold on a minute, you bought a bag in the tourist district?” the captain asked Ryel. “How many times have I warned you about getting conned while you're over there? Those street vendors don't have a great reputation.”
“It's an Infinibag! It holds a lot of stuff!” Ryel bragged, trying to convince herself that she wasn't scammed. “Look, I've got a few dozen scrolls in it.”
Ryel reached into the bag, grabbed a scroll and placed it on her desk. Only it wasn't a scroll. It was a live weasel who squeaked and chittered before running away. Her eyes widened as she looked over at the captain. “Someone must have put that in there before I bought it.”
She reached into the bag to pull out another scroll, placing another live weasel on the desk. Then another. And another.
Ryel was nearly panicking now and the weasel population of headquarters was increasing rapidly. She turned the bag upside down to dump her pile of scrolls out but instead, dozens of weasels came pouring out. No wonder Ryel got such a great deal on the bag – it was cursed!
Halfbeard's eyes widened as her business was suddenly overrun with tiny creatures running all about the place. They climbed on furniture, on the merchandise in the gift shop, and even tried to climb on her but she swatted them away with her thick and weathered hands.
The next few hours were absolute chaos as the pair tried their best to run weasels out of headquarters and into the forest behind the building.
Ryel lived in an apartment upstairs from headquarters so even at home she wasn't safe. She found weasels on her writing desk, on her bookshelf, even in the drawer of her nightstand as she was laying down to sleep. By that time Ryel was too exhausted to shoo any more rodents out of the building so she decided the little guy in her night stand could stay there for the night.
Shortly after Ryel fell asleep the nightstand weasel had decided to curl up next to her on her pillow, tucking himself in against her long pointy ear. The pair slept soundly all night without Ryel even noticing her new little buddy.
The following morning Ryel awoke to find the the same weasel on top of the nightstand, waiting for her to start her day. She was sure she heard him say “Hi!” as she was opening her eyes, but that must have been the last throes of sleep getting the better of her. As she readied herself for the day the weasel followed her around her apartment, squeaking at her every now and then. He seemed interested in what Ryel was doing, occasionally nosing his way in to see what was happening. While Ryel brushed her teeth he watched from the edge of the sink, enthralled. As Ryel got dressed, her new weasel buddy seemed to avert his eyes in deference to her modesty, but then went right back to watching her every move.
Finally, just as Ryel was ready to leave to head downstairs for work, the weasel climbed up her leg, up her back, and perched himself on her shoulder.
Ryel's heart melted. It was clear that this little guy wanted to be her friend so she gave him a little scratch on the head and went on her way, the weasel still on her shoulder as she descended the stairs to headquarters.
“Well, I think I got the last one out,” Halfbeard greeted her as she came around the corner to the office area. “No more weasels.”
“No, not all of them,” Ryel gestured to the weasel on her shoulder who sat up straight like he was proud to be introduced. “This one seems to think we're friends now.”
Halfbeard shook her head. “No more weasels in headquarters. Put him out with the others.”
Reluctantly, Ryel stepped outside the back door and placed the weasel on the ground gently. “Sorry little guy, but the boss says you've got to go.”
Ryel thought she heard the weasel say "No" while he was chittering angrily at her from the ground. He was quite indignant about the whole thing what with being evicted from his new favorite spot on her shoulder. She didn't know that weasels could be so noisy. She gave him a nudge to get him to run toward the forest but he didn't budge.
"Don't do this to me, I don't have a choice. You can take it up with the captain," she told the weasel with a hint of sadness in her voice. "You've got plenty of friends out there. Go make some weasel buddies. You don't want to be friends with me, I'm about a million times your size."
Reluctantly, Ryel turned her back on the weasel and went back inside the building to get to work. She had a full day ahead of leading both a morning and afternoon adventure tour and she needed to review the script for her morning tour. It was tour number 1a, which she rarely ran centering around the heroes attempting to steal a draon egg from Adventures For Hire's anaimatronic iron dragon, Maggie and some of the dialogue was tricky. She didn't have time to hang out and try to convince an adorable little weasel to get the hell out of there.
The next morning Ryel rolled over in bed to turn off her alarm clock and saw a weasel looking at her from her nightstand again. He chittered in greeting and Ryel sighed. She'd have to kick him out again. Just as the day before Ryel went out the back door, placed the weasel on the ground, tried to shoo him away (with no success) and left him there as she went back inside.
This morning routine continued for a week before Ryel finally gave up and told the captain that she wasn't able to get rid of the last weasel. Halfbeard was less than thrilled with the idea of a rodent hanging around headquarters but she and Ryel came to an agreement. He could stay as long as he didn't make a mess and stayed out of Halfbeard's way.
"So, did you name it?" Captain Halfbeard asked Ryel after they negotiated.
"Yep!" Ryel answered cheerfully. "His name is Torch because he lights up my life."
Torch squeaked from Ryel's shoulder and rubbed his nose on her cheek affectionately.
From then on, the pair were inseparable. Torch traveled everywhere with Ryel, sometimes riding on her shoulder, other times taking a nap in one of her many, many pockets. But when he needed to get some really good rest he preferred Ryel's non magical satchel. Sometimes there were snacks in there and as Ryel learned quickly, Torch loved snacks.
Every now and then Ryel got the feeling that Torch could understand what she said to him, only to push the idea away as silly and nonsensical. Weasels don't speak Crexlian! But then there were the times where Ryel was certain she heard him speak in the middle of his chirps and chitters, which was even more silly and nonsensical than thinking he could understand her.
After all, Torch was just a normal weasel.