text: The early morning sun was starting to burn through the morning fog. The heat of the afternoon approached nonchalantly. For now, the weather is perfect with a little chill in the shadows. Along the waterways, an unassuming man was on a stop along his walk and feeding the birds. First came the pigeons, whose territory he was in, then a large raven landed while another rested on line nearby. The pigeons gave the huge bird space, deferring and staying out of striking distance no matter what was thrown. Today's breakfast was bits of scrambled eggs and bread. His bites of the sandwich alternated between feeding himself and the birds. It was a family tradition his grandmother started, and the source family name, Ravenna. The Ravenna Family had leveraged their relationship with the Corvidae family into making the business empire you have never heard of. Ruby Ravenna took care of the families and the family took care of things. Like their avian comrades, the Ravennas had jet black hair with the occasional ginger popping up among them. Zenzero was one of those people, hence his name which meant Ginger. Zenzero was one of the elders of a family full of adventurers with the scars and tattoos to prove it. Not that it was obvious, he looked like someone who is easily overlooked. A look he carefully cultivated over the years. Anyone who has ever seen an episode of Hoarder's would be familiar with his work. He called himself a broker. He arranged for people who could afford it to home creatures that could guard whatever it is that needed guarding. He was once in the business of finding monsters to populate the estates of the wealthy. He preferred to call it a matchmaker service. He only placed creatures in their ideal habitats for buyers who could maintain the monster's lifestyle. He enjoyed his semi-retired life. Like himself, his kids were fertile and started early. His jokes about being in the business of raising rogues were tolerated because they knew their children were safe while they worked. He didn't have any grandkids to watch today, now that they are school age, so his morning walks were quieter than he liked. The raven used the space given by the pigeons to communicate. The large bird pecked at the offerings on the ground, and a few other times as well. After a few bites, the scratches started to form the runes telling him that he was needed by the Enterprise. "I guess it's time for a drink," told the assembled flock, picked apart the rest of his sandwich, and scattered it to make sure everyone got a nibble. He patted himself, checking his pockets to make sure that he had everything needed. He doffed his hat to the birds, "thank you for your company. I must be going." Looking for a suitable place, he settles on a quiet bistro, pops the dried-up stem and cap of a mushroom into his mouth, and picks up a newspaper at the door Zenzero walks into the bar, the brunch rush ending, the crowd thinning and the noises return to a low murmur, a few tables with a single person at them with notebooks and portable magic mirrors arranged in territorial markings, symbols of industry, and an excellent camouflage for the afternoon drunks pretending to work. Picking a table near the bar, He sat down and pulled out his newspaper. Shortly after sitting the waiter came over to take his order. "Welcome, what can I get for you today? You just missed brunch. We have some great afternoon plates available, would you like to see a menu?" "No thank you. I'd like an Absinthe, Oaklander if you have it, simplified presentation, please," before adding "make it a double." "Of course, I'll have that right out to you." The waiter's relief was hardly discernible, the classic absinthe ritual was labor-intensive, and those who usually order it either never had absinthe before or it was the only thing slowing down their consumption. Both groups are lousy tippers. The waiter correctly assumed that his customer was going to be a camper, just like the other smattering of the tables. Perfect customers for the time of day. It allows the staff to prepare for the evening rush. He pulled out a banknote which was generous without being suspicious. He needed to be undisturbed. The waiter brings out the glass and the pitcher of cold water, a slotted spoon, and a sugar cube, placing them on the table. He raised the glass to his nose and inhaled deeply, the licorice of the anise, blending in with the wormwood. A deep breath, held and slowly released, warm airflow out of his mouth as he sticks his tongue in the glass, tasting the undiluted liquor. Another deep breath and holding it, letting the bubbling in his stomach settle down, cheeks and forehead blushing. He starts the mantra of focus, "Yes. I welcome this lesson, this green fairy tale. Show me what I need to know." He opened the newspaper to the comics and puzzles, the crossword was where he would keep his notes. The absinthe combined with the magic of the mushroom to allow him to "see" his message. A kind of alchemy-induced telepathy. The text and images of the paper were just something for his brain to focus on. The text on the page started to dance. A slow shimmy as some words and phrases rise above the page. The runes coalesce the usual greeting. So glad you could answer. Your skills are needed. Zenzero took another sip of the absinthe and then added some of the cold water. The words formed and filled the page, a paragraph at a time. Do you know what happened with Mykonos? The letters formed a shape of a thick human with a bull's head, tail, and hooves. The Minotaur recently was visited by poachers. He lives, but his reproductive organ has been severed. The golem used for transport, dubbed Egget, was hijacked by the organ, killed the poachers, went on a rampage, and was caught several days later. "I have so many questions," he thought as he took a long sip of the drink, blinking a couple of times to let the words respond. As do we. Those questions are finding their answers. We need your efforts to clean up. The path Egget took is easily followed and littered with the bodies of the victims , all humped to death. He gulped the water, smiling grimly at the images of the roughly cleared path littered with mangled bodies. We don't know if there are any survivors. Zenzero recognized the cascading mountain range. Fortunately, it's sparsely populated but several large predator hunting territories were intersected. Harpies were at higher elevations and along the coast. The only other thing that could survive was any one of the owlbears. The black bear-shaped lump showed just how roughly the creature wooed. Owlbear are already enchanted and the combined magics would make for rare and valuable offspring. "What do you need from me?" His inner voice asked. The text settled. He took another sip of the absinthe, he didn't want to eat another mushroom. After a couple of deep breaths, the next part of the message appeared. Your mission: handle the situation. Backup is available upon request. Regional Managers are aware of your mission. Burping signaled the end of the session. The licorice flavors help to ease any nausea. It also gave him something to focus on as his mind wandered around this new project. Egget, the newly sentient minotaur penis life support system of a golem rampaged through several known magical creatures' habitats, the only things big enough to survive the encounter are the owlbears. If there are any young, the value of their by-products in the arcane and alchemy markets is high. They need to be protected, and he started making list plans. He wrote in the crossword puzzle Handle Inventory Spot Scatter Protect His mission was clear. Retrace the path of Egget, find any baby mamas, set up wardens to provide prenatal security, and find habitat ranges to relocate any surviving young. For these efforts, he would get to harvest any renewable resources, like fur, feathers, eggshells, and even nests. The ravens and others can help cover the area and keep track of the beasts, and there are enough relatives to share the efforts for a portion of the bounty. All of the history books talk about how the Great War ended, and the Dragons establishing a financial system that allowed the use of their gold via the bank notes the Dwarven crafters made allowing the new prosperity of the Great Peace. Most of those books barely mention the other immortals who helped shape the postwar world, the Ents. Employing their Branch Managers, druid enforcers who quietly keep the peace between the different factions and help reform the Goblinoids and integrate them into the brave new frontiers. The old trees were tired of the constantly clashing mortals and decided to try to influence their peace. The Enterprise is rumored to have a splinter group of dryad upstarts who are seeking power. Potential interference from them and the usual Undead Underground, who are probably behind the poachers, but Egget isn't any kind of necromancy, so there's no direct connection to them. Add to that the possibility of any murder hobo trying to make a name for themselves. Whether they are hunters looking for fame or other adventure capitalists like himself This was going to be a lot of work, but it meant that the victims and their young could be given a chance to have a good life, and not exploited by some of the real monsters, the people who just see the revenue and not the animal. Discretion is a must. Nobody knows about Egget. Not yet, anyway, and once word gets out and that would bring all of his professional rivals. Zenzero drains his glass and fills it with water, as he calls the waiter over and orders two sandwiches to go. It's time to start getting ready. The End