It was official policy of the Monster Employment Agency that all members must ride black horses while on the job. If for some reason you were too heavy to ride a horse without breaking its back in multiple places, like Gus, you could ride a wagon painted black. With fake skulls on it, which were also painted black. And the horses pulling it had to be black. Basically, you had to appear so terrifying that enemies wet themselves at the sight of you and clients would pay on time.

That was a bit of a problem for Gus. While he was by most definitions a monster, and was taller and heavier than most men, he didn’t look intimidating. Well, most of the time. His cursed plate armor was rusty, discolored, scratched and dented. Broken lengths of rusty chains dangled off his armor at odd places. His tattered cape was so dirty it was hard to tell if it was red, gray or black. Gus had no weapons, and in truth had never needed one. He looked horribly out of place riding his black wagon pulled by matching black mares. A passerby could be forgiven for thinking some terrible mistake had been made for Gus to have such menacing transportation.

The forest he was traveling through was dark and dreary enough for the wagon and mares to fit in perfectly. Clearly no one had been managing it for many years. Usually lumberjacks would thin a forest, but these trees grew in a dense mass, allowing little light to reach the soil heavy with rotting leaves and fallen branches. Places like this were rare and highly prized by those who desire solitude, and lonely roads running through the woods were closely watched. That could make his journey difficult.

“Good evening, sir,” a snide voice called out. Gus spotted eight swordsmen in leather armor at the edge of the road. They were dirty, hadn’t shaved in a while and had about twenty teeth between the lot of them. Their spokesman smirked and waved his sword at Gus’ wagon. “A nice ride, sir. Makes me wonder how a man of such limited means acquired it.”

Gus let the wagon slow to a stop in front of the swordsmen. “I was issued it last week.”

“Issued it? Well, someone has more money than sense. I think…are your chains rattling?”

“They are.” It was a slow rattle, chick-chick-chick.

There was a short pause. “Are you one of those horrible monsters of the night that don’t look like much until you get angry and then everybody dies?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“There are clues,” the swordsman admitted. “You, ah, mind if we wander off and do something else? Anything else except dying?”

Gus took a letter from the wagon and checked it. “Let me see. You’re not why I came, so there’s no need for this road to get painted red. Off you go.”

The swordsman bowed slightly before he and his fellows ran away as fast as hares chased by hounds. Gus’ chains stopped rattling and he rode on. Third time today that had happened. The authorities really had to start patrolling these roads even if nearby towns didn’t generate much tax revenue. A quick glance showed this was potentially a rich source of timber, and with current market prices that would—

Gus shook his head. That was the old him talking, before he found his armor. No room for that kind of thinking these days. Like it or not he was a monster, and a gainfully employed one at that. Time to get to work and start billing.

“Lot of barking for no bite,” Gus said as he continued on his way. Most bandits were like that. There was a lot of that in his job. Prove you’re willing to fight back and most enemies decide they have better things to do. The other extreme was just as bad, men with no idea what they were doing yet ready to fight to their last breath. It took a lot of effort to scare them off without hurting them too badly. Dead men were bad for business, encouraging others to avenge them or die (messily) trying. Trained, professional, heavily armed enemies were thankfully rare and usually open to talking.

Trees thinned along the road until Gus entered cropland bathed in warm sunshine. This was normally a bad move for a monster, as there would be lots of people and no cover to hide in when torch wielding mobs showed up. Fortunately, this wasn’t a concern. Farmers who saw him as they worked in the fields waved enthusiastically. Two men cheered. Confident of a good reception Gus rode on until he saw a small walled city along a river.

Gus checked his letter. This was the city of Lemet, population twelve thousand, give or take a few hundred. Major exports included food, timber, rope, pottery and horse head bookends. No military presence, as it was far from hostile borders and not given to rebelling. Tax revenue was modest and mostly came in the form of goods rather than coins. The local duke gave the city no thought when there were many problems to deal with and larger, more prosperous communities to squeeze for money.

These people were his new employers.

Gus reached the city gate to find cheering crowds gathering. A few enterprising people even hung brightly colored banners. It was more than Gus had expected, but his instructions clearly stated he was to go through the main gate in broad daylight, not sneak in at night like usual. Residents were well fed and reasonably prosperous. No silk and furs, but their clothes were in good condition without tears or holes. That was rare these days.

“Sir, this way,” a spearman said. He guided Gus to a wood podium in the city plaza. A small band played loud and not particularly good music, but they were trying. Rudolf Praise, mayor of Lemet, stood on the podium, his yellow clothes and gold key of office hanging from his neck making him stand out from the crowd of thousands. People got out of Gus’ way as he rode up to the podium and stopped.

“Mayor Praise, I—” Gus began before a tuba player drown him out.

“What?” Praise yelled.

“I hope you haven’t waited long!”

“Hold on, I can’t hear you! Jesse, kill the music. I know the song isn’t finished, but he’s here and we—stop playing!”

The music died down and the crowd’s wild cheering stopped. Gus stood up so the crowd could get a better look at him. His appearance usually didn’t inspire anyone, but they seemed satisfied. A few women waved. Gus said, “Mayor Praise, I hope I haven’t made you wait long.”

“For you we would have waited all day and tomorrow, too.” Citizens nodded at the mayor’s words.

Gus checked his letter again. “The Monster Employment Agency was pleased with your offer and sent me to handle your city’s problem. Rest assured that whatever troubles you won’t do so for much longer. Umm, what is troubling you?”

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t say much in the letter. I worried the authorities might get hold of it before it reached you. If they did, I could say I needed bandits hunted. Have you seen our bandits? Worse than rats.”

“Tell him!” a man in the crowd yelled.

“You don’t want to do this in private?” Gus asked.

“No!” the crowd yelled together.

“It’s not a secret,” Mayor Praise told Gus. “Matter of fact, it was a council of leading citizens who came up with the idea of hiring you.”

“Then what’s going on here?” Gus asked. “You all look happy and healthy with no need of aid.”

The mayor nodded. “We’re happy, but not for long. Our duke says the region isn’t safe, which is kind of true, and we need protection. He’s about to send troops to our city. The real story is he’s having trouble feeding and paying his men. Sending a hundred soldiers here means we have to do it for him out of our own pockets. I’ve heard from other mayors who got ‘protection’. All those soldiers do is eat, push around citizens and, ahem, take an interest in our women.”

“Take an interest?” Gus asked.

Mayor Praise looked queasy. “By law we have to provide them twenty unmarried women to act as serving girls, cooks and, uh, companions. Nudge nudge wink wink.”

That did it. The crowd screamed and backed away as Gus’ blood boiled and he took his true form. Rust shook off to reveal his black and electric blue full plate armor. Fingers on his gauntlets ended in barbed claws. Tattered rags turned into a silk cape of royal purple. Chains dangling off him extended until they were twenty feet long and had scythe blades at the ends. Those chains waved about like lethal serpents, promising violence to anyone foolish enough to approach. Every inch of his armor and chains was covered in intricate etchings showing dragons breathing fire.

“Deep breaths,” Gus whispered to himself. “You’re in control. Murder won’t solve anything.”

Slowly his cursed armor returned to its dilapidated state. The scythes and most of the chains crumbled away, his cape became rags, and rust spread across steel until he once more looked pathetic and weak. “Sorry, I do that sometimes. Go on.”

The crowd relaxed now that Gus was back to normal. Mayor praise gulped and said, “Yes, well, we tried getting around that part. There were three hundred weddings in the last two weeks, so there are only eight unmarried women in the city.”

“Seven!” a woman in a white dress yelled.

“Woo who!”

“Good for you, Maggie,” the mayor said.

“Three hundred weddings in two weeks,” Gus said in awe. “That must have been a logistical nightmare.”

“It was tricky, and it didn’t help,” the mayor replied. “The duke heard and said we still had to send twenty women married or not. He also sent the bill for one month of ‘protection’. It comes out to three hundred guilders a month in cash and supplies, and the soldiers can demand more in an emergency.”

“Who decides what’s an emergency?” Gus asked.

“The duke or the officer commanding the soldiers,” the mayor replied. “I don’t have a say in the matter.”

“Typical,” Gus muttered. It was poor decisions like this that ruined a kingdom’s economy. Why they didn’t have qualified accountants on every king’s staff was…not something Gus should be worrying about anymore. “I can deal with those men, but it will take time.”

“What?” The mayor’s puzzled expression quickly turned to fear. “No, wait, we don’t want them dead, or even kicked in the shin! If that happened the duke would send more with a bigger bill for us to pay. We just need you to be scary.”

“I think he can do that,” a man in the crowd said. Others nodded.

Gus was about to clarify that he meant drive off the soldiers, not kill them, but before he could Mayor Praise pointed at a distant hill or possibly a small mountain. There were the ruins of a castle at the top. It was in fair shape, with undamaged walls and mostly intact roofs on the towers and keep.

“That’s Castle Wolf Fang. It was abandoned after the No Battles War. See, the king of the time decided to catch his enemies by surprise by marching an army through Miasma Swamp and hitting them before they were ready. It saved three weeks off his travel time and half his men caught bone break fever. Surviving men took shelter in Castle Wolf Fang, where they spread it to the garrison. The few who survived fled and surrendered to an enemy army, spreading the fever again. Long story short, the war ended with heavy losses on both sides and not a single battle fought, and nobody’s lived in Wolf’s Fang ever since. We’d like you to move in.”

“To what end?”

“The king’s soldiers are really good at not fighting,” the mayor said. Gus tilted his head to one side, and the mayor went on. “They swagger around with their armor and weapons, telling people to do what they’re told or bad things could happen. But if there’s a real fight, one they might lose, they do a tactical retreat, which is running away without being executed for cowardice.”

“That fits with my experience with armies.” Gus had seen armies go months without pay and weeks without food until they stole and ate everything in sight. While that was mostly poor logistics and leadership, there were a lot of soldiers who spent their entire careers looking impressive without ever fighting an armed man. Normally that was a good thing, but when they needed to fight they didn’t, sneaking off unless they were sure of an overwhelming victory.

“Once I tell them about the terrible monster living nearby, they won’t want to come here because they’d be expected to fight you, or risk you coming into the city after them,” the mayor continued. “That’s dangerous. Plus the king stopped offering bounties years ago after soldiers made up phony monsters to ‘kill’ for gold. And if we say you have no treasure to take there’s no reason to fight you. They’ll find an excuse to be quartered somewhere else and we won’t get stuck paying them and getting pushed around.”

“Exactly how long do you want me to do this?” Gus asked.

“A couple years at least. We’ll pay you by the month and you don’t have to do anything besides make an appearance when outsiders show up as proof you live here. And there are bonuses.”

Gus perked up. “Bonuses?”

Mayor Praise handed Gus papers detailing his payments. “There are minor threats in the area who agreed to swear loyalty to you. They’re mostly pests looking for protection. We’ll pay you a monthly fee for each one that signs up with you, because then we won’t have to deal with anymore. Plus there are women of questionable morals in the area happy to partner with a powerful monster.”

Gus paged through the papers. “Quite a few such women.”

“It’s embarrassing, I know, but I’m told it’s like that wherever you go.”

Gus kept paging. “Not anywhere I’ve been. You know I charge by the month, right? My fee is going to be staggering if I stay here for years.”

“Not compared to the soldiers.” Mayor Praise handed Gus a balance sheet showing the price for housing and paying a hundred soldiers versus hiring one monster. As a former certified public accountant, Gus appreciated how much detail the mayor had gone to. Gus’ fee for three years of service was high, and nowhere near what quartering a hundred soldiers for the same time was.

“Do you want me to do anything else for this money? Hunt bandits, kill wolves, entertain at children’s parties?”

Mayor Praise shrugged. “If you want to, but what we really need is a big scary monster in residence. I know of two other cities with their own monsters, and they’re as happy as can be. I understand it even improves tourism.”

“What if adventurers wander into town?”
“We’ll tell them you have a tragic backstory and pay them to hunt bandits. So, do we have a deal?”

Gus looked at the hopeful faces of thousands of Lemet’s people, men and women who’d decided having a monster was a good thing. Gus was wanted here. Nobody had wanted him around even when he’d been fully human. It felt…good. He looked up at the ruins of Castle Wolf Fang, which honestly just needed light repairs and a fresh coat of paint. It was rent free, too.

“Mayor, you’ve got yourself a monster.”