Fae and fare, p.36
Fae and Fare, page 36
part #2 of The Wandering Inn Series
—-
When the rest of Rags’ tribe finally managed to worm their way underneath the shell by digging through the snow and dirt, it was already over. Rags sat in a pool of shell, guts, and blood, chewing on a piece of crab meat.
Goblins lay around her, some in parts, others just lying down because they were tired. They were all eating—although some were drinking the Rock Crab’s blood too. The inside of the shell was a scene of carnage, but to the Goblins it just looked like a buffet.
The rest of Rags’ tribe wanted to start devouring the Rock Crab as well, but Rags barked an order and they stopped. Instead, she had them lift the shell off the crab’s corpse. It was a lot of work, but the forty-some Goblins remaining could do it if they worked together. The shell crashed to the ground, taking an unlucky Goblin’s toe with it as the Goblins shoved it off the former occupant.
Now it was time to feast. Rags let her tribe begin hacking apart the crab as she sat in the snow and munched. The meat was bitter and tough, but it was filling and it was all a starving Goblin could dream of.
As she ate, Rags thought. This was a unique hobby among Goblins, but she was not a normal Goblin. Besides, she was also chief of this tribe. To be more accurate Rags was Chieftain of the Flooded Waters Tribe of Goblins who lived and died in the area around Liscor. She had responsibilities.
Now, how many goblins had died this time? Rags didn’t have a complete count of the Goblins in her tribe because they came and died so quickly, but she had close to sixty this morning. Now, she had closer to forty. Possibly forty-five.
They’d lost fifteen Goblins killing the Rock Crab. That wasn’t bad. It might have been terrible for any group of soldiers, people, or any other species in general, but Goblins were used to slaughter, mainly on their side.
Normally it took around twenty lives to bring down one of the gigantic Rock Crabs. The exchange wasn’t good, but it meant life for at least another week for a Goblin tribe. That was considered acceptable.
But there was another aspect to the numbers. Rags eyed the dead mixed with the crab parts and wondered how many were young, or female. She had only a dozen experienced warriors, and she’d hate to lose any of them.
That was another thing about Goblins. They fought together. Women, children—there was no difference. Goblins fought or died as one. There was no place to put the young.
If they died, they all died together. It was better than dying alone and starving.
True, the pregnant females and children generally stayed at the back, but their tribe didn’t have the numbers to hold their home and hunt Rock Crabs at the same time. Rags shook her head as she stared at a small head lying in a pool of congealed blood.
It was another day in the Floodplains of Liscor. She hadn’t died yet, but there was time. There was always time to die.
The Rock Crab sated even the hungriest Goblins after a while. Rather than leave the precious meat behind, Rags ordered the bulk of her tribe to take everything they could and bring it back to their home. In this case, it was a small cave they’d taken from the bears hibernating there.
Now, that had been a fight. Rock Crabs were one thing. They were terrifying behemoths of the plains, but they were slow. Bears on the other hand could catch a running Goblin and tear them to shreds.
Rags had led that encounter as well. She’d had her Goblins loosing arrows and throwing rocks at the bears and keep them at bay while she burned them from afar. She knew only three spells, but one of them was [Firefly]. It was a spell designed to attack from afar, and ever since Rags had learned it, her Goblins had been able to take on far stronger enemies than before.
As the majority of her tribe left, Rags barked an order and eight of her best warriors formed up around her. None of them were badly injured from killing the Rock Crab, and they all had the best weapons in her tribe.
Rusty swords, a sharp dagger, a club, and a hatchet. That was the might of Goblins, and compared to them Rags was a knight in armor with her small buckler and short sword. None of the Goblins wore armor outside of some leather and cloth; it slowed them down too much in case they needed to run away.
Now, where to? Rags’ priority for the day had been killing the Rock Crab. Ever since Winter had arrived, her tribe had been starving to death. They’d waited until this Rock Crab was far away from its friends before attacking. Now that they were full, Rags could finally think about other things.
First things first. Rags set off across the snowy landscape, her warriors ranging out around her. They knew where she was going. It was the first place Rags ever went when she wasn’t busy keeping her tribe alive.
The inn.
To the Goblins, The Wandering Inn wasn’t just a place to eat. No, for them it was closer to heaven. It was a miraculous place where they were safe from all dangers, had food to eat, and best of all in Rags’ opinion, she could play chess.
Chess. Rags loved chess. It was something so completely unlike anything else she’d ever experienced in life that even now after hundreds of games it still fascinated her. Chess wasn’t something you did that was just physical, like eating or crapping or killing. It was a game you played on the board, and also in your head.
It was wonderful. And it had given Rags an even greater gift, which was the [Tactician] class. She was looking forwards to playing. Today would be the day she finally beat Erin Solstice at a game. She just knew it.
Rags crested a ridge and stopped still. The inn was gone. No—not completely gone, but—
Destroyed. Rags stared at the broken windows, the collapsed part of the roof and of course, the walls that no longer existed. She could stare straight into part of the kitchen from her spot on the hill. Something massive had taken a chunk out of the inn. It was gone.
For a full second Rags stared in shock at the inn. Then she began to think. Goblins moved past shock and confusion fast or they died. So Rags quickly noticed that the inn might be destroyed, but its owner was still alive.
Erin Solstice, human, proprietor of The Wandering Inn, and The Destroyer as she had been named by the Goblins, stood around talking with several large black insects and two tall lizards as more Antinium moved around her.
What were they doing? They were…dismantling the inn? Rags saw a Worker pry a broken piece of timber off the inn and walk down the hill. They were going somewhere else with it.
And not just pieces of the inn. Some of Rags’ warriors murmured as a group of eight Workers lifted a section of wall and trotted down the slope with it held between them. They were indeed taking apart the inn, and it seemed to Rags that they were intending to build it somewhere else.
Curious. Rags analyzed the situation as only she could do. She was smart. Every Goblin knew it. That was why they’d accepted her as Chief.
So let’s see. The inn had been in one piece when Rags had seen it yesterday. But clearly something had happened. The inn was destroyed—possibly by a monster or something else, and Erin had gotten the Antinium to fix it. Only, they’d decided to build it somewhere else.
Even as Rags came to that logical conclusion, another of her warriors came up to her and reported that more Antinium were making their way across the plains.
It was clear that Rags wouldn’t get to play chess today, so, intrigued, she ordered the other Goblin to bring her to the site of the other Antinium.
Goblins could move fast when they wanted to. It was practically their only advantageous feature, if you didn’t count their size. So Rags and her small posse found the Drake, Klbkch, Ceria, and the twenty-odd Workers shortly after the group had reached the site of the Boom Tree forest.
Rags heard her Goblins murmur as they crept closer to the Working Antinium, supervised by the Drake, Ceria, and Klbkch.
The Antinium were moving like machines, systematically stripping each tree of bark before felling them with axes. They had everything Rags dreamed of in an army. They would never break or flee, and they moved together flawlessly.
What disturbed Rags greatly though was their location. She and her Goblins had crept through the snow, ignoring the freezing temperatures, to the edge of the trees. They’d done this against all their instincts, and Rags had only come this far out of curiosity.
Her curiosity being, why the Workers were still here and not fragments of flesh and exoskeleton raining from the sky at this point. She knew these trees. They were death.
In fairness, Goblins classified almost half of the world as ‘death’, but they had a far more nuanced view of death than other species. Their species had over twenty words for death, and that meant they could define death in an almost unlimited number of ways.
Goblins pessimistically defined death as a probability, or perhaps an inevitability depending on how you looked at it. For instance, a lone human traveler was only ‘possible death’ for a group of Goblins, and if a tribe was nearby the unfortunate human was only ‘death for one or two’. By contrast, the Rock Crab had been ‘near certain death’ for the individual Goblin or small party, but only ‘many deaths’ for a tribe.
But the trees here, this forest, was absolute death. Goblins avoided the area, having learned the exact range of the explosive bark from trial and error, as it were.
That was why Rags was astonished to see that the Workers were not only moving among the trees, but chopping them down without being perforated in a thousand places. Why? Was it magic?
No—none of the three people here was capable of magic like that, Rags was certain. She knew Ceria could do magic, but she also knew the half-Elf had been badly injured, as evidenced by her skeletal hand. Moreover, Rags saw no wand or stave, and she couldn’t sense any magic coming from Ceria.
And Klbkch and the Drake certainly weren’t capable of magic. Although of the three, they bothered Rags far more than Ceria.
Klbkch for instance. The Antinium was clearly distinguishable from the other Workers, thanks to his unique build. He was taller, leaner, and had only two arms instead of four. He was also ten times more dangerous than the others.
Rags still remembered his death. She hadn’t been part of the ill-advised group of Goblins that had set out to kill Erin and avenge their Chieftain, but she’d watched as the Antinium and one of the Workers had carved their way through the ranks of the Goblins. Even though they’d killed him in the end, it had only been because he’d been protecting Erin.
And now he’d come back to life. His body might have been changed, but he smelled and acted the same. That terrified Rags.
But while Klbkch was a silent enigma, he was nothing compared to the Drake. Rags knew he had a name, but she refused to remember it.
The Drake. He was known by the Goblins of the Flooded Waters Tribe, oh yes. He had killed more of their kind by himself than the rest of the other guardsmen combined. He was faster than any Goblin—faster than arrows—had skin tougher than metal, and he could kill even a Hob with his bare hands.
He was a monster. He’d killed the Goblins who’d raised Rags. He was her enemy, even if he didn’t know it.
But there was nothing to do about him but avoid the Drake. He could easily slaughter Rags and all the warriors she’d brought. No matter what Erin said, they had to keep their distance from him.
Speaking of which, where was he? Rags narrowed her eyes and scanned the forest. The Drake had been talking to Klbkch only a second ago, but now he was gone. Where had he gone? To piss? Or—
“Got you!”
Rags heard the terrible voice too late. She twisted, but Relc grabbed her out of the snow and threw her through the air.
The Goblin felt herself flying, a dizzying, rushing weightlessness broken by terrible pain as she hit a tree and bounced off. She landed in the snow, winded and curled up reflexively into a ball of pain.
She didn’t think for a few minutes, only lay there as she heard the Drake laughing and her warriors screaming. The screams grew fainter, and she realized they’d fled. As was only sensible. But it left her alone, and in only moments she heard voices above her head.
“I knew it! I saw one of those pointy-eared freaks poking his head out of the snow, and I knew she had to be nearby. It’s that stupid Goblin!”
“I am not familiar with this Goblin. You say you know her?”
That was Klbkch. Rags tried to uncurl, but the pain was still too much. The Drake replied irritably.
“Yeah. Erin took her in. Her name is Raggy or something stupid like that. She’s been hanging out at the inn and playing chess.”
“Chess?”
“Yeah. Crazy, huh? I wanted to get rid of the little bugger, but Erin won’t let me. Her tribe’s been causing chaos while you were dead, and now it looks like she’s got an ambush party waiting to attack us.”
She heard the menace in the Drake’s voice, and that made Rags move. Ignoring the terrible pain in her back, she uncurled and looked up. Relc and Klbkch were standing over her while Ceria stood just behind them, staring at Rags.
Was this the day she died? Rags knew she had no chance if it came to a fight. The Drake could kill her with one claw. But she stood up anyways and reached for her sword.
The Drake growled at Rags, looming over her.
“Drop it.”
His voice sent a thrill of terror down Rags’ back. But she still gripped the hilt of her sword with one hand. She was terrified of the Drake, but so what? Rags was always afraid, but she never gave into the fear.
Klbkch laid one hand on the Drake’s shoulder as he gripped the shaft of his spear.
“Calm yourself, Relc. I would not wish violence here.”
“She was spying on us. Don’t you think we should do something? What if they were going to attack?”
Klbkch’s voice was an oasis of calm. He pointed at Rags.
“Erin Solstice harbors affection towards them. If she discovers they have been slaughtered, she will react poorly.”
Calm, and coldness beyond anything Rags had known. She was sure that if his needs called for it, Klbkch would kill her without batting an eyelid. Not that the Antinium had eyelids.
“Moreover, I do not believe even Goblins would be foolish enough to attack a larger force by themselves. No, I think Rags and her group were following us to see what we were doing. That is all.”
The Drake glared at his friend. He pointed at Rags.
“They killed you. Killed. You. You’re telling me you don’t want to slaughter every one of these buggers we find? They’re filthy little cowards, the lot of them.”
The word burned Rags. But of course there was nothing she could say. Klbkch paused, and then went on without changing pitch.
“My feelings do not matter. Erin Solstice has been deemed important to the Hive, and for that, her cooperation is needed. Let the Goblin go.”
The Drake glared at his friend, but then he cursed long and loud. He turned, and Rags breathed out just slightly. Maybe, just maybe—
Relc turned back and raised his foot. Rags saw only a blur and then—
—-
She woke up with a terrible pain in her jaw. Rags knew it wasn’t broken, but it hurt!
Relc was gone. Klbkch was gone. But someone was standing over her, and it wasn’t one of her Goblins.
“Rags?”
Ceria the half-Elf bent down and reached out for the Goblin. Rags’ reaction was immediate. She rolled away from Ceria and sprang to her feet, backing away from the mage warily.
“I don’t mean you any harm. I just wanted to make sure—”
Rags pulled the small jar of acid from her belt and Ceria paused. Rags hadn’t dared reach for it with Relc because he was too quick, but she held it out between her and the half-Elf warningly. It was a threat; not something Rags intended to actually make good on.
It worked. Ceria paused, and stood up carefully. She regarded the little jar of acid, knowing full well how dangerous it was. But she didn’t panic. She looked Rags in the eye.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt. Relc shouldn’t have kicked you like that.”
So. It had been the Drake. Rags felt her chin. It felt like it was about to fall off, but if that was all she ended up with, she’d count herself lucky. But then why was Ceria concerned about her? Rags was still wary.
“I’m not looking to do anything with you. If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have done it while you were asleep.”
That was true. Rags hesitated, and lowered the jar of acid. Ceria watched her tuck it into her belt and shook her head.
“I need to talk to Erin about her giving you those. That girl—”
She paused and shook her head again.
“What am I doing, talking to Goblins? Look, I don’t really care what you and your little group were doing watching us. But I have a message for you.”
A message? Rags’ ears perked up slightly. Ceria looked serious as she pointed at Rags, and then out across the plains.
“Leave. The Watch is going to wipe your tribe out or drive it off in a few days.”
Rags absorbed the information silently. She didn’t doubt that it was true for a second. Not because she thought Ceria was honest, but because she’d predicted it was coming.
More patrols through the plains. More guardsmen spotting Goblins but not attacking them, just following them for a while. The picture added up. Ceria’s words just confirmed Rags’ hunch.
Ceria didn’t seem surprised Rags wasn’t surprised. The half-Elf thrust her good hand into her pocket.
“I don’t know if you really understood that, but I hope you did. Not that I want your tribe to live or anything. I’m just telling you this so Erin doesn’t get upset. I owe her a lot.”
That was true, but Rags didn’t see how it had any bearing on the current situation. She wasn’t Erin’s pet or anything like that. But it mattered to Ceria, clearly. The half-Elf looked at Rags balefully.
“I remember the last Goblin King’s rampage from the sea. He left a sea of fire and destruction across three continents. Even if others underestimate your kind, I know you can be dangerous.”
