All they needed now was modes of traction. Luckily, there were dealerships for new and used draft and riding animals in Sumpfigerort. Not so luckily, it was on the exact opposite side of the city. Pushing their newly acquired mode of cozy travel to the pens garnered quite a few curious looks from the locals – or maybe Mini’s and Bianca’s constant nagging did that.


    “Why can’t we park this thing somewhere?”


    “Why didn’t we buy hogs first?”


    “Why is that wheel letting out that strange noise?”


    “Why did that piece of plank just break off?"


    “Why is that wagon driver shouting at us? We are pushing as hard as we can already!”


    “Why exactly did we need a new used cart again?”


    “Are we there yet?”


    Prof started to wonder, how all those harem protagonists could put up with their collections. These two weren''t even his girlfriends, so couldn''t threaten him with having headaches if he wasn''t nice to them – instead, it was him, that got a migraine. Managing half a dozen females just for the chance to get laid now and then sounded like an excessive amount of work. Not even counting all the gifts, clothes, jewelry, and stuff he would have to buy…


    Oh wait… Since he was the treasurer of the party, technically he was the one, who financed all their spending on clothes, jewelry, impaling implements, and stuff.


    Prof felt a little bit cheated. And frustrated.


    It probably showed, since the hog merchant (an Orc) patted him on the back with pity and a knowing wink, offered him some booze, and let his wife take care of the girls.


    “To be honest, I never figured out, why you Pinkskins take more, than one wife. Even one is too much at times…”


    “They aren’t even my wives or girlfriends! We are an adventuring party!”


    “Oh, I’m so sorry. You don’t even get extramarital kissing, then?”


    “No…”


    “Well, I never figured out, why you Pinkskins are such masochists either. Anyway, I see you have a two-hogpower trading wagon there. Not in the best condition, either. Do you want to buy two draft horses or modify the wagon for your two monsters?"


    Prof hoped the merchant was talking about Binky and Sleepy, not his party members.


    “Two hogs, please. Sturdy, obedient, and healthy, please. They can be second-hand if the price is lower. Oh, and do you know someone, who could check the wheels, brakes, and that water barrel on the side? And fix the trappings and the cover?"


    “A cousin of mine is actually a wheelwright and has a shop on the other side of town. His brother-in-law is a harness maker and works just next door to him. Let me give you direction."


    It transpired, both shops were just one street away – from the merchant, they bought the wagon from. Getting the wagon to the garage wasn’t complicated. All he had to do was to ask the girls nicely to push it all the way back from where they came.


    That was not happening.


    “Can you hitch the hogs up somehow? I don’t want to push the wagon all the way back.”


    “Understandable. We could jury rig the harnesses, they should hold till the shops. However, I wouldn’t recommend riding on the wagon or going fast. As for the draft hogs, I have just two, that fit your criteria. Come, come!”


    The animals the Orc showed him were probably hogs. Or at least they had some kind of hog somewhere in the family tree – as in millions of years ago something, that would be classified as the distant ancestor of common pigs by scientists liked the distant ancestor of common armored personnel carriers very much, and the offspring was simply too tough for dinosaurs to eat. If viewed from a certain distance and in certain illumination, they could have been mistaken for hogs or pigs. As long as the distance was more, than a few kilometers, it was completely dark, and the one doing the viewing never saw a pig before.


    They had four legs, teeth, that could pulverize concrete, short, greenish-yellow fur, and evil little purple pig-eyes. Their future means of traction were higher at the shoulder than Prof was, and the skull was large enough to put a Kobold inside it. Not, that Prof planned to put their main problem solver for anything stealthy, stabby, or trappy into the skull of some monster-pig. Or into its mouth.


    “These are Dire Fullteeth" the hog-seller informed him "Despite looking like overgrown killing machines, they are quite docile. Most importantly, they are very sturdy, almost impossible to poison, and nearly immune to every known sickness. Both have Poison Immunity, Strong Stomach, and Beast of Burden. The smaller one has a Vitality of an incredible 32, and the larger one a still respectful 28. With an Endurance of above 25, they can go on and on, with only one or two Gremlins a day! You won''t get more mileage out of any other animal! The best is, that they are omnivores, and by that I mean, they can and will eat everything organic! Oh, and they have an Armor Rating of 10."


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    “Of course, such incredible endurance comes with a cost, Dire Fullteeth aren''t known for their acceleration or top speed. They are perfect for pulling wagons, good as pack animals, and in a pinch, they can even be ridden! As I see, you have a very good Nightmare and that lizard thing, so you probably will only need them as draft hogs."


    Buying four-legged engines on Arkadia was way more honest, than buying new cars on Earth. At least in Greenskin lands – the Elves somehow forgot to inform him about the Stats and Perks of the donkeys and mules they sold to him. The Greenskins, on the other hand… No vehicle manufacturer presented the performance of their cars so openly on Earth. If anything, they were closer to how Elves handled the issue.


    “The price, of course, reflects their quality. For the low price of seventy schillinge, you could be the proud new owner of a slightly used, but still sturdy Dire Fulltooth!”


    “Seventy each?”


    “Yes, of course! You won’t be able to find any comparable quality anywhere for less!”


    The funny thing was, that getting the draft animals cost twenty times the rickety wagon they already bought. Maybe, just maybe the girls were right, and he should have looked at the animals first. Now, that he bought an almost-new piece of disaster – and pushed it through the whole city –, he simply had to invest into something, that was able to pull it too. Pushing the wagon all the way to the Southern coast defeated the whole rationale behind acquiring four-wheeled transport.


    Re-selling it hadn’t even crossed his mind.


    He would rather leave it in a ditch and set fire to it.


    A hundred-forty Schillinge was quite a lot of money, he wasn''t exactly comfortable to part with, so he did the sensible thing. He looked at other, slightly, or in some cases, heavily, used self-propelled methane generators. The selection wasn''t all that convincing: a few normal Fullteeth, even smaller Warhogs, Warty Hogs, Draft Pigs, and two lonely-looking Cart Goats. Everything was a little bit cheaper, but those potential savings were too small for the difference in quality. Especially for pulling a wagon. The cheapest were the Cart Goats, and were actually quite good for pulling carts – however, they were too weak to pull a wagon.


    It was like putting a one-liter engine into an SUV. Technically it worked, but made no sense practically.


    Prof debated the issue for a few minutes. On one hand, he would have an underpowered power source for cheap, with not-so-good Stats and Perks, on the other hand, armored awesomeness for a lot of money. Or anything in between.


    Of course, he chose the Dire Fullteeth in the end. Even if the suspension, wheels, bodywork, and the convertible top of his new wagon were crap, at least the engine would be reliable and powerful. Maybe he could stiffen the suspension, put on widened wheels, and lower the whole thing later. And put on a custom paint job.


    Naw…


    The whole thing wasn''t worth the effort. He wanted to travel in comfort, not build some hog track muscle wagon. Probably medieval roads couldn''t handle that kind of driving anyway. It was like at home: too many potholes and non-euclidean road geometry, and all those sport-car owners wondered, why their shiny toys broke down in short order.


    Leading the wagon and the jury-rigged Fullteeth back to the wheelwright and the harness maker was much faster, and Prof pointedly ignored the girl’s teasing. After all, he was a real man, and real men could do nothing wrong while buying stuff, pushing said stuff to other shops to make it work! Females just didn’t understand the intricacies of the joy of making a barely functional, overpriced piece of uselessness into an almost-working piece of limited usefulness. Even if one could buy a basically working piece for a fraction of the cost.


    Not, that Prof was such a sexist chauvinist, and wasn’t thinking like that at all.


    More correctly, he was close to tears. All those nightmarish expenses for a wreck, while he already had a high-class Nightmare! It was like already having a midlife-crisis chopper, and buying some old wreck, because everyone knew, girls were not into choppers but run-down trucks. He started to realize, he didn''t exactly think the situation through.


    Not, that he was prepared to admit it to Mini and Bianca.


    At least Sharpclaw had fun. She was the one, who steered the wagon on the way to the hog dealership and was currently riding one of the hogs.


    Well, Mini and Bianca also had fun, but that was at Prof’s expense.


    “You are lucky, I have a set of heavy-duty cross-country wheels in stock. It’s army surplus, they left it here after the slime campaign. Barely used.”


    “Your canvas cover can''t be saved. See, the material is too washed out and thin. I would recommend scrapping it and installing a new one – for example, this barely used army surplus one, I have at the ready."


    “Your front axle is good, but the rear one has these cracks here and here. If you load up your wagon, there is a chance, it won''t last past a few hundred kilometers. I wouldn''t recommend going on heavy terrain at all. I do have a spare, barely used rear axle. Army surplus."


    “The harnesses are junk, as you know yourself. You are in luck, I have a full set available. Barely used, army surplus.”


    “New brakes! Barely used! Army surplus!”


    “Padded seats! Army surplus!”


    “Gremlin boxes! Lantern! Spare water cask! Grease bucket! Rear door! Mattress! Toll box! Barely used! Army surplus!”


    It was fascinating, how the army sold a complete workshop''s worth of wagon parts as surplus so fast after the last slime campaign, but there wasn''t any surplus, barely used wagon on sale. The last campaign ended a day ago or so!


    “No, that is the current slime campaign.” he was informed “The surplus will be sold in a few weeks, including vehicles. The last campaign was a year ago.”


    “You mix it up. The one last year wasn’t a campaign, only an operation. The last campaign was two years ago.”


    “Oh, you are right. We have all this junk for two years already?"


    “No, just for one year. We got everything after the operation didn’t escalate into a campaign.”


    All in all, refurbishing his wagon totaled barely fifteen schillinge, including work! It was almost a bargain – but just almost. Prof got reminded of the old wisdom: if you want to buy a used vehicle, bring someone, who is good with technology, so the vehicle in question can be checked before handing over the money. It was good wisdom, as long there were multiple vehicles on sale. As soon as there was only one in the whole city, the wisdom just packed up and left for the library.


    On the other hand, if Prof knew, how rickety the wagon was, he probably wouldn’t have bought it in the first place. As it is said, hindsight needs glasses. Or something.