by Pirateaba
It went away. But a few hours later it came back and tore at her. Erin wondered when she’d last eaten. Two days ago?
Her stomach gurgled and begged. Erin felt the starving pain gnawing at her mind. Eventually it became too hard to ignore. So Erin decided to eat.
It was too much work to cook. And she couldn’t eat meat. So Erin got up.
The effort of standing up left her light-headed and dizzy. Erin swayed and fell on the table. She lay there and stared at the ground. After about ten minutes she pushed herself up and walked out the door.
The sun was shining. Erin shaded her eyes. It was noon. Of tomorrow. That was probably why she felt hungry.
She began walking. It was hard. Her legs didn’t want to keep her upright. Twice, Erin tripped and fell over. But she got up and walked on. Walking was hard, but it wasn’t nearly as hard as other things.
—-
The orchard was just as she’d left it. The unnaturally straight, stiff trees still bore the bright blue fruits. Erin kicked one tree and caught the fruit as it fell towards her face.
For a while, she sat on the ground and stared at the fruit. The trees provided her with shade; the wind blew her hair back into her face. Eventually, Erin bit into the fruit and ate.
It was sweet and delicious. The juice was cool and refreshing. Erin tasted ash and dust. Mechanically, she finished the fruit and ate five more. Then she threw up.
Once she was done Erin ate another fruit. It helped with the taste. Then she stared at the mess of fruit and the stained seed core in her hands.
She cracked open the seed core and stared at the pulpy mess inside. Poison. It was probably a really painful way to die. The smell was terrible. It would probably taste terrible.
Poison was a terrible way to die. Almost as bad as melting your face off.
Thump. Thump.
Erin smacked her head against the tree. It was nice and hard. The blue fruits showered down around her.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
She stopped when she saw the Goblins. They were standing at the edge of the orchard, four of them. They fled the instant her eyes fell on them.
One of the Goblins dropped something in its panic. Erin walked over and picked up the small basket made of twigs. It wasn’t very good.
She turned and looked at the orchard. Fruit trees. Of course. They were probably hungry too. She couldn’t see them eating the rock crabs, and the dino birds would probably eat them if they tried to steal their eggs. Aside from the occasional traveler, what else could Goblins eat?
Erin left the orchard. She walked back to the inn slowly, feeling her body slowly collapsing on itself. She probably needed to eat more. But it was too much work.
She sensed them following her. When she looked around they fled. But they were slow and she caught glimpses of them. Ragged clothes. Thin bodies. They looked like starving children, refugees from a war. Not like monsters. Except for the teeth and red eyes.
That gave Erin an idea. She stared at her hands for a moment, and then picked up the pace. Suddenly she was walking faster. When she got to the inn she looked for the shopping bag and found Klbkch had stored all the ingredients away on the counter. It was very hard to start the fire. But when she’d started it was easier than stopping.
Erin smelled smoke and burning. But only burning wood and not so much smoke. Mainly she just heard breathing. And her stomach rumbling.
—-
Evening fell upon the plains, upon the lone inn on the small hilltop, and upon the four Goblins skulking in the tall grass. They watched the inn. They watched the smoke rising from the chimney. They watched, and heard their stomachs rumbling.
All of them had weapons. Not good ones; rusty blades, and crude clubs. But they’re dangerous.
Even so, they feared the inn. They feared the one that lives inside it. A trickster. A deceiver. A destroyer. She looks weak, but she is death.
They knew that. But still, they smelled something wonderful coming from the inn. Food. And they were so very hungry.
The inn has closed shutters, but they could still smell something wafting from the inside. It didn’t smell like rotted meat or the foulness inside the blue death fruits. It didn’t even smell like the dead rock creatures they sometimes found. It smells good.
They salivated. But they fear the inn. And they must eat tonight or starve. So, reluctantly they tore themselves away. They had hoped the human female would drop some food or fall down dead. Since she did neither they must find other food.
Still, they hesitated. They lingered outside the door and wished they had the numbers or strength to steal the food. But the monster inside is death. She killed the Strongest, and so she could not be fought. It is death.
Still, they hungered.
How long did they stand outside the front door, drooling? Too long. The door slammed open.
The Goblins cried out in fear and turned to run. But the Deceiver didn’t chase them. She stood in the doorway of the inn, hands on her hips. She raised one eyebrow.
“Well? Come on in.”
The Deceiver turned and walked back inside. The Goblins exchanged a glance and stared at the open door. A good smell came from inside. They hesitated. But the smell was so delicious.
So, so delicious.
—-
Erin turned as the first Goblin finally crept into the inn. He froze in place, but she pointed to a table.
“There. Sit.”
He hesitated, and then scampered over to the chair.
The Goblin awkwardly perched on the oversized chairs as Erin placed a plate on the table. He flinched with her every move. When she pulled out the forks he nearly bolted. But he sat up and stared as she brought the pot into the room.
The metal was still burning-hot. But Erin used her t-shirt to protect her hands and carried the pot to the table. She picked up a pair of tongs and began dropping buttered pasta mixed with sausage and onions onto each plate.
The Goblin salivated. He stared at the golden pasta and up at Erin with wide-eyed wonder. He reached for the pasta with dirty fingers and hesitated. He stared up at Erin.
She stared back. Her eyes traveled to the Goblin’s fingers which were scooting beneath the plate.
“Run and I’ll hit you with a chair. Sit. Eat.”
The Goblin snatched its fingers back instantly. He stared at the pasta and then up at Erin. She wondered why he wasn’t not eating. Oh. Of course.
“The first meal is on the house.”
The Goblin looked up at the ceiling. Erin sighed, but her lips twitched.
“That means it’s free.”
Again, the Goblin stared at her. This time in wide-eyed wonder.
“Eat.”
He reached for the pasta.
“Not like that.”
The Goblin snatched his hand back and nearly tumbled out of his chair. Erin sighed again. This time she was smiling a bit.
“Eat with a fork. See this? Fork.”
She pointed to a fork. The Goblin stared at it. Slowly, he picked it up. He speared one buttered noodle and slowly transferred it to his mouth. It hung over his open mouth full of yellowed teeth as he stared at her. Asking for permission.
Erin nodded. The noodle fell. The Goblin gulped, and went very still. Deathly still.
Then he smiled. It was a terrible smile, full of sharp crooked teeth and hesitation. But it was a smile.
Erin smiles back. She laughed, for the first time in ages. It was a laugh that came straight out of her feet and through her heart. It exploded out of her chest. It was a good laugh, and it made the world right again.
The Goblin looked at the laughing human. He put down his fork and ran out the door screaming. It only made her laugh harder.
—-
Erin put away the last plate and watched the last Goblin groan as it lay slumped on the table. Four Goblins. Six plates. She was surprised they’d managed to eat that much.
They were very small creatures. Still, they ate like starving wolves, which they were. A
t least, in that they had been starving.
But they lay now in a blissful food coma, on the border between pain and oblivion with their bloated stomachs. But as she approached they sat up and stared at her.
Erin pulled up a chair and sat. The Goblins drew back, but they didn’t run screaming this time. They stared at her. She stared back.
—-
After a long time, it was night. One of the Goblins glanced towards the door and they all stood up as one. Erin made no move to stop them.
Awkwardly, they wandered towards the door, still staring at her. Then one stopped and nudged the others. They clustered together, backs towards her. Erin saw something flash in their palms. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, but she remained seated.
One of the Goblins came back. It was holding something in its hands. It held it out to her
Erin stared down at the three small tarnished silver coins in the Goblin’s cupped hands. She blinked. Once. Twice. Then she let go of the chair and stood up.
The Goblin flinched, but Erin moved very slowly. She reached out and touched the Goblin’s hands. They were rough, dirty, and warm. She closed them over the coins.
“The first meal is free.”
The Goblin stared at her. She stared back. It turned, and fled. But it stopped at the door and said something. It sounded like ‘sqwsmsch’. Then it was gone.
Erin sat back down and stared at the door. She blinked a few times, and then smiled. She stared around at the inn, and wiped at her eyes. Then she pulled the chair in to the table and put her arms down for a pillow.
She was asleep the instant her head touched the table.
1.19
Erin woke up slowly. She woke up to the sight of a bag full of money on her table. For a moment she thought the Goblin had left it.
It wasn’t the Goblin. In fact, the mysterious bag full of silver coins was courtesy of Klbkch. Erin peered down at the note he’d written and squinted to make out the words.
For the destruction of a Goblin Chieftain within the area of Liscor you are hereby awarded 40 (forty) coins of silver of equivalent denomination. Signed and witnessed by Klbkch of the Antinium.
-Klbkch of the Antinium
Post Script: Please excuse my poor handwriting, but I am not fluent in your script.
Erin blinked down at the bag. She opened it and blinked at the sight of all the gleaming silver. For a while she stared at the shiny metal and watched as the sunlight made it glow. Then she closed the bag.
She stared at the table. The money seemed like it was right out a dream. But it didn’t actually matter much to her at the moment.
She looked back at the table. Had she dreamed that too? But no, she saw where the Goblin had spilled the blue fruit juice when she’d smiled at it. A large glowing fly was hovering over the table.
Erin sighed. But then she smiled. And suddenly, she knew what she was going to do.
First she smacked the acid fly and ran around screaming until she washed the acid off. Then she ate breakfast, which were cold noodles mixed with sausage and onion. It was delicious. Then she walked down to the city.
A thought struck Erin as she walked. She’d have to go back to the market. The market where she’d lost all of her money. Her footsteps slowed, and then picked up. Suddenly Erin had two things to do today. She was looking forward to both.
—-
The second time the human female entered the market every head turned. This time it wasn’t just because of her smell.
Erin marched right up to the stall where she’d been ripped off. She glared at the Drake and then squinted.
“Wait a second. Have we met?”
The Drake shook her head.
“Do you wish to buy a necklace, human?”
Erin eyed the pendants and other jewelry on display.
“Later, maybe. Right now I want to talk to the Drake guy who ripped me off the other day. You know; the one that took all my money. The ugly one.”
The other customers and shopkeepers nearby who heard that laughed loudly. The female Drake grinned and covered her smile. She pointed, and Erin turned to see a scowling Drake four stalls down.
“You.”
Erin marched over to the Drake. He glared at her, but this time Erin glared back. He shifted his gaze pointedly over Erin’s head. She cleared her throat. When he still ignored her she kicked the bottom of his stall.
The Drake looked down and snapped at her.
“What do you want?”
Erin gave him a polite smile without any of the sincerity.
“Why, I’d like to do business. Jerk.”
The Drake hissed under his breath. He shook his head at her and flicked his tail in her direction.
“My store’s closed to you, human. I won’t sell to those without a hint of respect for others.”
“Respect? I have tons of respect. Just for anyone who’s not you.”
Several of the other shopkeepers laughed at that. Erin notice she and the Drake were drawing a crowd. She didn’t particularly care.
The shopkeeping Drake glared harder at Erin.
“You’re obstructing my business. Leave, before I summon the Watch.”
He turned his back on Erin but she rapped on his counter.
“My business with you isn’t done yet. I want my money back. You ripped me off the other day.”
The Drake looked over his shoulder.
“So? I offered you my goods and you paid my price. That is a basic rule of buying and selling. I have done nothing wrong.”
There was a general murmur of agreement from the shop owners and a discontented rumble among the shoppers. Erin leaned over the counter.
“Oh yeah? What if I’m not happy about what you sold me? I think for three gold coins you should be selling me enough onions to fill the bottom floor of my inn. So how about I return you what I’ve purchased and you give me a complete refund?”
The Drake sneered at her.
“Do you take me for a slow-witted hatchling, or a human fool? I won’t accept food that’s days old! Besides, this store does not give out refunds!”
“Really? Where does it say that?”
“Right here.”
The Drake pointed to a sign. Erin stared at it and up at him with narrowed eyes amidst the laughter. Then she grinned.
“Oh, right. It does say that, doesn’t it? Too bad I can’t read. But I do remember you had your prices listed as well, didn’t you?”
She looked around at the other pieces of paper pinned to the wooden stall. The Drake shopkeeper lunged, but Erin was quicker. She pulled the familiar piece of paper away and waved it in front of his face.
“Well. Why don’t we call the Watch after all? Buying and selling is all very well, but what about sticking to prices you write down?”
The Drake shopkeeper hissed again, long and slow this time. His eyes flicked to the paper and back to Erin’s face. He wasn’t sweating, but Erin was pretty sure lizards didn’t sweat.
“Even—even if you have that bit of paper, what of it? I sell to many customers. And you—I barely remember what I’ve sold to you, let alone my last customer.”
“A bag of flour, one pot of oil, a small bag of salt, sugar, yeast, four sausages, and two onions.”
Erin said it instantly. She paused for a second.
“And one crappy bag.”
The Drake stared at her with open mouth. She smiled sweetly at him.
“I’ve got a good memory. A really good one, actually.”
He didn’t have much to say to that. But the look on the shopkeeper’s face told Erin he wasn’t about to start tossing gold coins around. She leaned over the counter and stared at him. She wished she wasn’t so close. His breath smelled of rotted meat.
“I want my money back. I’ll give you a few silver coins for what I paid, but I’m not leaving here until you give me my money. Now, we can do this the hard way and call a bunch of people over and you can lose all your business for the day, or you can give my mo
ney back and I’ll—hey, is that a chess board?”
Erin pointed at one of the Drake shopkeeper’s displays. Everyone turned and looked.
“Oh hey, it is! It’s just like—I mean, the pieces are different but it’s chess, it is!”
The Drake snarled and batted Erin’s hands away.
“Get your hands off that! This is a valuable item!”
Erin glared back.
“It’s a chess board. Unless it’s made out of gold—which it’s not, it’s made out of stone—it’s about as expensive as that food you sold me. So I guess you’re selling this for three gold coins, too?”
That got another laugh from the crowd who had gathered to watch Erin’s showdown with the shopkeeper. The Drake on the other hand just grabbed the chess board and pieces and went to shove them below his counter. Then he stopped and turned to her with a gleam in his eye.
“Are you a player of chess, human? If so, why don’t we bet on a game?”
Erin raised one eyebrow.
“You mean, we play a game of chess for my money? Why should I do that?”
The Drake spread his arms innocently. Erin noticed his tail was waggling on the floor but she pretended not to notice.
“Human, you and I have a dispute. I refuse to pay for goods sold, and you refuse to leave. So long as you’re stinking up my storefront I won’t have any business, so I offer a wager in good faith. Win against the player of my choice and I will pay you back the money you paid me, though it will cost me my goods that I have earned honestly. Lose, and you agree in front of witnesses not to bother me again. That is my best offer.”
Erin narrowed her eyes at him. She thought for a moment, and then nodded. Her lips twitched once, but she managed to suppress them.
“Fine. Let’s play.”
The shopkeeper smiled down at her. It was a smile full of teeth.
“Give me ten minutes to find my player. Then I will teach you why it is unwise to bet against your betters.”
Erin smiled back.
“Fuck you.”
