While Charlene trudged down to the riverbank and the little communal washing-raft, the lazy heat had overcome even Earl's overdeveloped sense of duty. So, his planning turned to reminiscing. He couldn't believe it'd been almost twenty years since he became Stagna's marshal. He hadn't been back east in over a decade, but it felt like a few months ago that he was hunting bounties on the other side of the Vargreeks.

  On one such outing, he'd gotten dragged into a bad incident: the Stonehome weight riots. It'd taught him what good neighbours could do to each other under the wrong circumstances, and that both Dwarfs and humans in Tweek took their ore weights super serious. For years afterwards he'd sloshed about, doing odd jobs, begging, and some things he preferred not to think about. All so his conscience could spend most of its time down a bottle.

  On his first time back at Stonehome he met Arlene. He'd been feeling as thick as shite and half as handy outside a temple after losing his last crone. The Dwarven belief in Onnek meant every temple was also gambling den. But for some reason she took pity on him. If it wasn't for her, drink would've no doubt been the end of him. After a short courtship, he and Charlene's mother had run away. For a time, they roamed up and down the east coast, finding missing people. They'd even solved the occasional crime. Her kindness retaught him that being good felt good. Back then, he couldn't have imagined being happier than he was on the road with Arlene.

  In time, she started showing signs that their little gang would have a new member. So, Earl begged her to come with him to Agalaland. Bounty hunting was no place for a baby. Stories made the grasslands sound like a place where they could make a home.

  By the time they got to Stagna, Arlene was ready to pop. As they waited for the baby to come, they took a room on the second floor of Bern's. By this time, she was bed-bound and annoyed by his mere presence. It left Earl spending a lot of time wandering around town, even though he could see all there was to see in less than fifteen minutes. That led him to find out the position of marshal'd been unfilled for three years. The previous law-man had died of old age, but Earl suspected boredom was the real cause. Still, with a baby coming, he'd figured a little boredom would be a good change of pace.

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  He'd never thought of settling down before Arlene. Until he met her, all he needed was his hat and his whip. When she bled out during childbirth, he was sure he'd never recover. As he came downstairs that first morning after the delivery to order the strongest, cheapest drink Bern's served. Fannie'd put it down with a piece of advice he never forgot.

  "If ya 'ave that drink, ya're nay comin' back fram under tha' bottle. Ya may as well leave tha' child on the street, because tha's where ya'll both end up."

  Back then, he'd barely understood Fannie's thick accent. In fact, some days he still struggled when the words came so fast, it was like they were trying to run away from her mouth. Still, on that day of grief, she was the one who stopped him from falling of the wagon. Instead, he stuck to the plan and settled for having a life.

  In those days, he had no clue the years spent watching the baby grow up would be the happiest of his life. Before Charlene, he'd been unaware of how deep his feelings could run. In hindsight, not even mourning Arlene had come close. Yet, his grief hadn't been the only issue in those early days.

  There'd been considerable resistance to having an outsider in the marshal's office. The town could've no doubt gone another three years without a law-man, because Stagna was the kind of place where people were generally helpful, kept to themselves, and minded their own business. In his first year, a campaign started to have him replaced with someone who understood local customs. It led to some people leaving the town in a huff, going on to found Benelli, the seventh marshal district.

  He wouldn't have argued with the crusade against him. But he recognised the kind of people who came crawling out of the woodwork. After Stonehome it wasn't something he'd been prepared to accept. To his surprise, sanity won out over fear, and nowadays, his job was mostly sitting around getting fat.

  "It's been too long since I had a good manhunt," Earl said into his felt hat.