A job, Pigglebottom nervously pondered, she wants me to do a job for her… 

After just a few days into his move, he was already being solicited for work. Pigglebottom couldn’t believe his luck, if anything he’d probably just changed his clientele from annoying city-dwellers to monstrous country-folk. 

The slimy creature that sat before Pigglebottom started to make a gurgling noise, bubbles began to appear at the side of its body and, suddenly, a small rectangular piece of card drifted slowly to the floor.

“Muh… muh busnesssss karhd,” the creature slurred as it gestured to the dropped card. Pigglebottom got up from his desk and leaned down to retrieve the card. 

It read: ‘SludgeSludge – Crapple Importer’. 

At first, he was surprised to discover that such an odd creature could run a business (the high-quality parchment the business card was written on gave a strong indication that it was a successful business at that), but immediately decided that his judgment was perhaps somewhat racist in nature and thus felt guilty. 

Crapples were a type of fruit particularly popular among the more beastly inhabitants of Kroydome, known for a harsh, bitter taste and strong feces-like odor, its popularity was a mystery to those not that way inclined. 

The desire for it in some of the darker stranger corners of the world was so strong that it was likened to an addictive drug. As such, Pigglebottom stayed well clear of it.

“So, are you asking me to find your son?” Pigglebottom spoke softly, almost hoping he wouldn’t be heard and the situation would somehow go away completely as he was not even sure he understood the request correctly.

“Yuhhhhhhh,” the creature slurred back.

“OK, well… I’m going to need some details first before I can agree to this,” Pigglebottom murmured, attempting to find some reason or excuse for him to not have to fulfill the creature's wish. 

“Can you give me some sort of description of your son, and perhaps his last whereabouts?” The creature before him wriggled and squirmed, making squishing noises that sent a shiver down Pigglebottom’s back. 

Instead of speaking, it began to bubble, parts of its sludgy body popped and crackled, sending globules of itself in all directions.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand,” shouted Pigglebottom as he tried to shield himself from being covered in muck.

“MY SLUUURRRRNNNN,” slurred the creature as the spitting increased tenfold.

“I’m very sorry, but unfortunately I don’t think I’ll be able to help you on account of I can’t understand a word that you’re saying! Please, could you stop… whatever it is that you’re doing, I’ve just tidied up in here!” 

As Pigglebottom finished his words the creature fell silent, and the spitting stopped. The center of its body rose up a foot in the air, only to hang forward in a dejected manner. 

Slowly, the creature began to diminish in size until only a stain was left on the chair. Pigglebottom wondered whether he should scrub the stain but instead decided to leave it for a while as he wasn’t sure if it would technically be murder.

It had been a long and stressful day as Pigglebottom hadn’t experienced such anxiousness since his previous dwellings. 

The thought that these perils were not over caused his somewhat chubby knees to vibrate. He decided that it was time he rested and began the task of pulling out his bed (which had been installed, rather annoyingly and against his wishes, into the wall). 

As he pulled the drawstring to reveal his bed from within the cold wet cave wall, he began the daily task of putting on new sheets and brushing off any creepy crawlies that had decided to take a nap before him. 

Lying down, the creature's anguish-tinged cry of “my slurrrrrrn,” echoed in Pigglebottom’s head. 

A strong feeling of guilt, which eventually turned into shame, washed over him. “I’m such a coward, perhaps I should have helped her… I’ve helped worse people in my life…” Pigglebottom spoke out loud to himself. 

As he lay down accompanied by only his thoughts, the memories of his first-ever customer came flooding back, which was a shameful memory he would have much rather forget.

Young Pigglebottom sat staring at the door of his newly acquired office in Femidome. Sitting behind his late father’s desk, he felt an incredible sense that it wasn’t where he belonged. 

Every atom in his body knew that he shouldn’t be there. 

Who was he to help anyone when he couldn’t even tie his own shoelaces without having visions of snakes crawling over his toes and throwing his shoes as far away as possible?

 The door slowly cracked open as a withered, wrinkly eye poked through the crack and stared at him.

“Is… somebody there?” Pigglebottom questioned, quaking in his socks (his shoes had been flung to the other end of the office quite some time ago during a particularly frustrating attempt to tie his laces).

“Yes… I’ve been looking for someone like you…” An elderly voice spoke slowly and softly from the darkness of the crack, the eye blinked, then bulged excitedly, then blinked again.

“Oh… right, well, perhaps you would like to come in?” Pigglebottom spoke automatically, his politeness usually overtook his fear, even though deep down Pigglebottom wished to kick the door closed and lock it behind him. 

The door slowly opened and a hunched elderly lady slowly hobbled through. She had a constant grin on her face which Pigglebottom found oddly unsettling, and saliva occasionally dripped from the corners of her mouth as she gawked gormlessly at him.

“You’re the adventurer’s lad, aren’t you, Baron’s boy,” the old lady muttered.

“Yes… unfortunately so. How may I help you, perhaps you need some assistance crossing the road?” Pigglebottom optimistically presumed.

“Crossing the road!? Do I look like an old woman?” she shouted furiously as Pigglebottom bit the inside of his cheeks. 

"If you don’t have anything nice to say, shut your damn mouth" was a lesson his mother had taught him, many, many times, usually this lesson was followed by a thrashing or two.

“My apologies, how can I be of assistance?” Pigglebottom muttered dejectedly.

“Now, there’s this ‘orrible little scrote that lives a couple doors down from me, he’s a thief! A dirty thief, he’s always covered in mud and rubbish!” The old woman began to speak with a decidedly fierce look in her eyes, she was clearly not happy.

“And this thief, I presume he has stolen something from you?” Pigglebottom enquired.

“Oh you’re a quick one aren’t you, a right clever boy!” The old woman said sarcastically.

“Please… go on” Pigglebottom decided he would just let her speak to avoid receiving more insults or nasty looks.

“The filthy thief, he sneaked into me boudoir last night and snatched something from me jewelry box! Nasty little shi-“ Pigglebottom raised his hand to stop the woman from talking, he’d heard quite enough and feared her negativity would start to affect his own personal aura.

“What item did this person steal, and could you give me some information perhaps on this… thief?” he replied, attempting to sound as professional (and interested) as possible.

“Me brooch, it’s an heirloom wot was passed down from generation to generation in me family, dirty little toe-rag snatched it from right out under me. 

He’s the spawn of the devils that live a few doors down from me, paupers they are, can’t even afford to pay their own bills, the fathers a useless idiot, and the mother just sits around spitting out more disgusting children.” 

The old woman spoke with such venom that Pigglebottom was afraid he would need some sort of antidote administered to him after the chat, wanting to get this woman away from him as quickly as possible, he decided he would accept the job.

“Leave this to me, I will find out whatever I can and attempt to retrieve this item for you, please would you now leave as I will have to gather some information first before I go out and investigate”. 

Pigglebottom replied as he crossed his fingers under the desk in the hopes that the woman would leave.

“You what? I’m not leaving until you get my bloody brooch back! What kind of business you running here? Your father Baron would have sorted this out straight away, what kind of Adventurer are you!?” The woman shouted as clumps of spit careened through the gaps in her teeth and onto the walls of Pigglebottoms’s office.

“A reluctant one,” Pigglebottom muttered under his breath, “very well, please provide me with your address, and I will investigate now.” 

At this point, all Pigglebottom wanted was to get away from this woman as quickly as possible. He was provided an address, 125 Bogwater Lane. 

Luckily it was just a short walk from the office, which was situated in the heart of the bustling city of Femidome. 

The architecture in Femidome was much like the people, ugly and poorly put together. Pigglebottom had been born and raised there, never once leaving the city’s walls, it was home, but he wasn’t particularly fond of it.

As Pigglebottom reached the address, he saw a small boy lying in the dirt. The boy seemed to be tossing something in the air, each time laughing with great glee as he caught it again.

 As he approached the boy, Pigglebottom realized this item was the brooch in question as it matched the description the old woman had provided him with to a tee. 

Not wanting to confront the child, Pigglebottom edged closer to him, very slowly, with his back facing him in the hopes that he would not be noticed. 

He was now standing next to the boy, who was so enraptured with his stolen item that he did not even notice Pigglebottom’s presence. 

Swiftly, he spun around, catching the brooch as it was flung high into the sky. He quickly ran in the opposite direction as the boy’s shouts and screams echoed throughout the street. 

Pigglebottom had essentially become a thief himself, but he chose to ignore his own questions of whether his actions were justified by reminding himself that returning the item would mean he would never have to see the old woman again, which helped his guilt subside somewhat. 

Returning to the office, he was greeted by the old woman’s shrieks of “Did you find it!? The brooch!?”.

“Yes, here it is, now, I accept cash payment only, the amount will be-“ the old woman cut Pigglebottom off with gleeful screams, “Victory! Victory! Take that you bloody toe-rags!” The woman shouted over and over again. 

She was so happy that she seemingly forgot to pay Pigglebottom for his services and exited the office before he could even present her with a bill. 

The woman never returned to the office again, so Pigglebottom eventually took it upon himself to pay her a visit (under the strict orders from his Mother, who put the fear of the Gods in him). 

Upon arrival at Bogwater Lane, he spied the young boy again. 

This time, he did not look so happy as his family was being forcibly removed from their homes and bundled into the back of a cart attached to an armored horse. Pigglebottom enquired with a local drunk, who was sprawled out on the pavement in a puddle of his own doing, as to what was happening to the family.

“Family? Ha… theys can’t pay theys rents, *HICCUP*, said they was gonna pay with an heirloom but they was lying, they don’t have nuffin, HAAHAHA” laughed the drunk.

“So… what is going to happen to them?” Pigglebottom enquired, growing increasingly guilty by the second.

“Wot you finks gonna happens, can’t pay your rent? They’re gonna be fish food in the Femidome fish tank HAHAHAHA!” The drunk guffawed loudly.

 Just as the drunk finished his nasty cackling, Pigglebottom’s attention was drawn to a window in a house a few doors down from the family. 

It was the old lady, and she herself was cackling uncontrollably. 

As the doors to the cart were being closed, the old woman flung the brooch out of the window and into the dirt, then looked at Pigglebottom, right in the eye, and spat, before closing the window and disappearing into the darkness of her house. 

It was clear to Pigglebottom that he had been tricked and that he had paid a major part in a family losing their home, presumably just because they were disliked by their neighbor. 

Pigglebottom decided he would take the rest of the day off to re-think his choice of career.

The memory of this time made Pigglebottom feel sick. How could I help such a horrible woman, and yet turn down an innocent creature just because it made a mess of my office and its stench was akin to that of a barrel of rotting fish, he wondered. 

Pigglebottom’s conscience fought against his fear for hours, he tossed and turned in bed not being able to sleep until finally he shot up and exclaimed “No! I will not let this poor child continue to be missing! I will help that creature, as my father would have done!”

He put on his boots as quickly as possible and raced down towards the entrance of the cave as fast as he could in hopes that he could catch up to the mother. 

After a few minutes, he suddenly realized (due to noticing the smell) that he had actually run straight past the sludge creature who was moving incredibly slowly through the cave. Mold doesn’t move very fast, you see.

“There you are, I’m terribly sorry and I will absolutely accept your request, fear not sludgy woman, I will find your son and bring him home to you!” Pigglebottom exclaimed, so loudly it echoed throughout the cave, causing countless bats to fly out in fear. 

The sludge creature grew upwards once again, a hole formed in it which vaguely resembled a smiling mouth, and a portion of its body extended outwards, Pigglebottom stretched out his hand towards the creature and it slid its slimy appendage down it, leaving a trail of slime on his skin. 

Presumably, this was a handshake of some sort, and with that, the quest was accepted.