The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  “Get away.”

  They ignore me. Well, of course they do. I try to shove my way left, but when I do they bunch up and ram into me. Hard.

  “You annoying—”

  Okay, no more nice girl, not that there ever was one to begin with. I stop suddenly, and trip up two of the runners behind me. It turns out to be a mistake, because they trip and fall and their shoes kick into my feet and ankles as they go down.

  “Damn it.”

  Gyaaaaaaah! That really hurt! But now I’m free. I really want to check my feet and see if their stupid shoes ripped any skin, but something’s up. I turn and run left even as the pack of Street Runners turns to follow me.

  They shove me left, onto a smaller street. At this point I’m really starting to get annoyed. I could get nastier, but if it comes down to a fight against this many people they’d kick the crap out of me. No, screw it. I can lose these idiots the instant I get out of the city gates. I’ll go to Remendia and if more of them show up there I’ll talk to the City Watch. Or the Runner’s Guild.

  All I have to do is break free of the group. And that’s easy and hard at the same time. The easy part is grabbing one runner by the shoulder and shoving her hard so she smacks into a wall. The hard part’s going to be when they start trying to hit me.

  But they don’t. All at once the pack of Street Runners in front of me breaks up. Another three steps and I’ll be in the clear. Why the hell would they—

  I see it too late. A foot’s there to trip me up, and though I try to jump over it, it catches me and down I go.

  Ow. All the air goes out of me. Okay, damn. But they’re gone. That means—

  Rumbling. I feel it in the ground and look up too late. A heavy cart pulled by a large mule thunders at me down the small street.

  Oh. Of course.

  I roll, and see a familiar sallow face grinning at me as the other Runners disappear into alleys. Get up. Get up!

  The cart barrels down towards me as I scramble to my feet. I dodge left, but then something slams into me. It feels like I just hit a patch of solid air. Magic. Down I go, winded.

  I look up and see the massive wheels crunching down the road towards me. So quick. And I’m lying right in its way.

  Oh. Yeah. I’d almost forgotten what I hate about the world. Sometimes I forget, but I’m always reminded in time. What I hate about the world is—

  People.

  For once I’m too slow.

  Snap.

  1.25

  They are called Workers. It is their designation, their life, and their role. They serve their functions well. A Worker is many things. A hammer to build and tear down foundations, a butcher’s knife to separate meat from bone. The Workers work. That is their purpose.

  But when the Klbkch brought back the twelve Workers they were not the same as the ones who had left. They told the other Workers during their sleeping shifts and resting shifts of a strange task they had carried out. They spoke of visiting an ‘inn’, of meeting a strange creature and eating delicious food, and of learning a ‘game’ called ‘chess’.

  These were deeply disturbing revelations to the other Workers. Much conferring and deciding was done during the dead of night. All was uncertain. Their Queen did not speak to them in the purity of their souls but with messages passed from her chambers below. They had no orders to guide them, and so the Workers could only rely on their own counsel.

  This new ‘game’ the other Workers brought and the strange bits of paper they wrote on to make the game. Was this an Aberration? It surely seemed so, but the Propugnator had not eliminated the twelve. And so it must not be an Aberration. And if the Queen had ordered Klbkch to take the twelve to learn of this game then it must be of significant importance.

  Therefore, the next day during the designated resting period the twelve Workers set up chess boards using bits of scrap paper and stones and explained the game to the other Workers once. Then the games were played.

  Twelve Workers played the twelve who had journeyed to the inn. All lost the first game completely. But the Workers were intrigued, and some expressed desire to play. This new game of chess was not Aberration, but it was intriguing.

  However, during the fifth round of games an Aberration occurred. One Worker stood up from the chess game and retrieved a butcher’s knife. The individual-who-was-no-longer-a-Worker returned to the chess game and stabbed his opponent until the Worker died.

  Before the Propugnator was summoned, six more Workers were killed and their parts used to decorate the tables.

  —-

  Klbkch walked into the small cavern, stooping his head to pass through the small tunnel which brought him here. Although it was extremely dark, with only a few patches of glowing fungus to light the way every twenty feet or so, Klbkch could still see perfectly fine. He stopped and stared down at the severed head of a Worker and then studied the green ichor covering the ground.

  A Worker, or at least, something that looked like a Worker stood in the room ahead of Klbkch. He had a dripping blade in two of his hands, and he sawed and hacked at the body of another Worker as Kblkch approached.

  “You have killed your fellow Antinium, Worker. How do you explain your actions?”

  The Aberration turned and dropped the arm it had been sawing off from the Worker. He raised his blades threateningly, but Klbkch’s hands made no move to their swords.

  “I correct the fault in the others. They play ‘games’, and go against the will of the Hive. They deserve nothing but death.”

  The Aberration pointed to the other Workers, who stood silently against one wall. They did not flinch away from him, but stood, silent. Watching.

  “Their lives are not yours to take. You are an Aberration. You are a failure.”

  The strange Worker shook his head.

  “I have not failed. My mind is intact. But I am no longer a Worker.”

  He tapped himself on the chest.

  “I am.”

  Klbkch paused.

  “Then do you claim to still serve the Hive?”

  “I refuse to serve. I refuse to acknowledge the will of the Queen. Her words are madness. Heresy.”

  The Klbkch nodded his head. He drew his swords.

  “Have you a name?”

  The Aberration shook his head. He raised his knives.

  “I refuse. Names are meaningless. The Experiment is failure. I refuse.”

  “Very well.”

  The Aberration charged Klbkch and stabbed him twice before he was cut into pieces. He didn’t stop stabbing until his head had been severed and his limbs detached. Even then, his arm jerked on the ground for a few seconds until it finally stopped. Klbkch burned the pieces and ordered the Workers back to their duties.

  —-

  The Workers disposed of their fellow comrades and tended to the wounded. And then, since their resting period had ten minutes left, several played a game of chess using Lightning rules.

  That night, the games of chess continued. Not all Workers took part. It was decided that only a quarter should play this new game in case of further Aberrations occurring.

  The Chosen Workers played four games of chess before their designated sleeping time occurred. The next day they conferred among themselves and decided that their knowledge was insufficient, their abilities too limited.

  Therefore, when the Designated Worker approached Klbkch he had the support of all the Workers behind him. He was the best player—his win/loss ratio was 54.692% and thus he had been chosen to make the request.

  Klbkch was not on duty at this time of day. He had retreated to his personal quarters within the labyrinthine tunnels, a hollowed-out room of stone and dirt near to the surface. He looked up at the knock on his door. When he saw it was a Worker he immediately drew his sword.

  “State your business immediately or be cut down.”

  The Worker bowed its head towards Klbkch.

  “This one would request time off, Propugnator.”

  Klbkch hesitated
. He did not lower his sword.

  “Why?”

  “This one wishes to visit the Innkeeper Solstice.”

  Now Klbkch stood up. He strode towards the Designated Worker and held his blade low, towards the other Antinium’s abdomen.

  “For what purpose do you wish to visit Erin Solstice?”

  “This one would play a game of chess.”

  “Chess?”

  Neither Antinium blinked. They were incapable of doing so, but Klbkch’s antennae twitched.

  “Explain yourself.”

  “This one would learn more of chess for the sake of imparting knowledge onto other Workers. The Workers perceive a limitation in growth after a collective 416 games played.”

  Klbkch paused as he digested this information.

  “I see. Your request will be considered. Return to your duties. Now.”

  The Designated Worker bowed his head and left. Klbkch sheathed his sword, stared at the door, and then banged his head with one of his hands. Then he strode off to make an urgent report to his Queen.

  Within the hour he had left the city with the Designated Worker in tow.

  —-

  After two days of experimentation, Erin had to face the facts.

  “…I still can’t figure out how to make ice cream.”

  All she could make was weird, sugary butter. She stared down at the pan of churned cream and ice cubes and wondered whether it was still edible.

  “Hm. Sugary.”

  Erin licked her finger and decided it would go well with cereal. If she had any cereal. Well, there was that porridge-stuff, but she didn’t like how much chewing she had to do.

  “Maybe I’ll feed it to Pisces.”

  Glumly, Erin poured her fifth failed experiment into a glass jar. Glass jars were the way to go. Since she didn’t have tupperware and most airtight containers were jars with lids on them, glass jars with corked or glass lids were her best way of keeping things fresh.

  “Too bad I don’t have any preservation runes.”

  Erin grumbled to herself as she heaved the jar of milk onto a counter. She’d asked Pisces how much it would cost to get fancy runes done. He’d put the price at anywhere from twenty to sixty gold coins, and added that she’d need to replace her cabinets if she wanted to make sure the runes stayed intact.

  “Too rich for my blood. But refrigerators cost a lot too, right? But you only buy one and that’s that. So I could save up, if I ever got any customers. Big crowd one day, radio silence the next. And today as well. That’s life, isn’t it?”

  Erin’s head snapped up as she heard the door opening.

  “Speak of the devil.”

  She raised her voice.

  “Have a seat! I’ll be with you in a moment!”

  Erin looked around and cursed. She didn’t have any food ready. It was only lunchtime—she hadn’t expected anyone to actually come by except Pisces, and he could wait forever. But he would have already made a snide remark by now.

  No helping it. She hurried out of the kitchen and spotted a short creature standing in the inn. It had familiar green skin, pointy ears, and red eyes. Erin started to smile, and then stopped.

  “Wait a second. Who the hell are you?”

  —-

  The four Goblins watched from the cover of a patch of long grass as the door shut. They watched, and saw the other Goblins surrounding the inn. One had already entered, and the other Goblins were waiting to enter behind him.

  The hiding Goblins weren’t waiting to enter. Rather, they were watching with dull dread in their stomachs. They would have liked to do something. Shouted, perhaps. But that wasn’t in their natures, and they were afraid.

  They had been nine, but now they were four. And they feared making sound and alerting the other Goblins around the inn to their presence. They were forbidden to be here. They had been nine, and now they were four. And they feared becoming zero.

  So the four watched, helplessly. The one Erin called Rags gripped a dagger in her hands, but she felt the bruises and cracked bones from the beating she’d taken just last night. She could only watch. They were four.

  The Goblins surrounding the inn were forty.

  —-

  “Uh, hi there.”

  Erin stared at the large Goblin as it glanced around her inn. She was sure she’d never seen this particular Goblin before in her life. He was larger than the rest, taller, brawnier. And he was carrying a short sword at his waist, not a dagger or a club.

  The Goblin looked up at Erin. He was still shorter than her by a good head, but he didn’t seem intimidated by her height. On the contrary, he seemed like he wanted to be the one doing the intimidating.

  “Look, can I help you? Do you want food, or something?”

  Normally Erin would have offered him a plate of something at once. But this particular Goblin wasn’t like Rags or her timid friends. There was an aggressiveness about him she recognized in guys back in her world that she really didn’t like.

  The Goblin glanced at Erin and said something. He sauntered up to her. She stared down at him.

  “Excuse me? What do you—”

  He poked her. In the stomach. Actually, it was closer to her pelvis since he was shorter, and uncomfortably close to another area.

  “Stop that.”

  He grinned, and reached out to poke her again. Erin slapped his hand down.

  “Stop that. Tell me what you want, or get out.”

  The big Goblin’s eyes narrowed. His hand went to his short sword. Erin made a fist and showed it to him.

  “Try that and I’ll kick your face in. Got it?”

  He glared up at her. Then, surprisingly, he grinned. He turned his head and called something in that scratchy language over his shoulder.

  Erin looked up as the door opened. A Goblin walked into the room, and then another. And then another. And another and another and…

  Suddenly there were a lot of Goblins in her inn. A lot. And suddenly, purely by coincidence, Erin had just broken out into a cold sweat.

  “Well. You have…friends.”

  More Goblins filed into her inn. It was an unending stream of them. They surrounded the bigger Goblin, exactly like a gang of…gangsters. Or, in Erin’s mind, much like a gang of children following the bully.

  Erin took one step back as the leader of the Goblin mob grinned at her. He stroked the sword at his waist. Erin thought of the knife in her kitchen but abandoned the idea instantly. Every Goblin in the inn had a weapon, and most were holding them casually in their hands.

  She had a bad feeling—no. Not just a feeling. She knew she was in trouble.

  The big Goblin looked around the inn and snorted. Then he spat.

  A glob of greenish spit landed right on one of Erin’s clean tables. Next to a chess board. The Goblin looked at it, and then walked over and picked up the pieces.

  She could run. In fact, Erin was pretty sure she could outrun them. If she got to the door and slammed it shut, then she’d be able to take off. They’d never catch her with their stubby little legs.

  Erin slowly edged around a table, as if she were nervous. The Goblin tribe watched her, but they clearly weren’t expecting her to attack. They knew they outnumbered her. She didn’t need to get that close to the door, but if she were just a few feet away she could—

  Tapping. Erin looked over and saw the big Goblin leader smacking one of her chess pieces hard against the stone chess board. He grinned; a bully with a new breakable toy that didn’t belong to him.

  Smack, smack. He was watching Erin out of the corner of his eye as he bashed a carved figurine of a Drake knight on the board.

  Erin saw bits of the fragile chess piece breaking off. Her mouth opened.

  “Oi. Put that down.”

  The Goblin sneered. It deliberately tossed the knight on the ground. The other Goblins watched as their leader deliberately stamped on the chess piece. It snapped in two.

  Erin stared down at the small, stone figurine lying in pieces.
She looked up at the grinning Goblin.

  —-

  The four Goblins heard the faint sound of something cracking as they waited outside the inn. Then they heard silence.

  The next thing they saw was the big Goblin smashing through a window. They ran for cover as Erin strode out the door with a chair in her hands.

  The big Goblin snarled at Erin and struck at her as she approached. She stepped back, and then belted him over the head with the chair. She lost her grip on it, but that didn’t even slow her down. As the Goblin swung at her she delivered a punch to his face and then jumped back. Erin didn’t know how, but when he tried to rush her she instinctively stepped sideways and knocked him flat with a kick to his back.

  It was like magic. Or—a skill. Bar fighting. That was it. Erin had never really punched someone in her life, but when she made a fist and drove it into the big Goblin’s face, it floored him.

  He was trying to rip the short sword out of its scabbard. Erin kicked the blade out of his hands as he got it free and then kicked him in the face. As he shouted in pain she picked up the chair and drove it into his midsection.

  “Not so tough now, are you? Huh?”

  Erin raised the chair to hit the Goblin again. She prepared to swing it down—

  And something poked her in the side. Erin turned around. She saw a knife sticking out of her stomach.

  “…Ow.”

  A Goblin was behind her. He stared at Erin in horror as she turned. She punched him into the ground, but then another Goblin was next to her.

  Stab.

  It was a dull sensation. She felt her skin tearing as he raked her side with it. Erin shouted and hit him with her chair hard enough that she felt something in him break. But then another Goblin was next to her. He slashed her in the leg.

  She didn’t feel it. And that was the scariest thing. As another Goblin stuck a knife in Erin’s back, she felt it go in, but she didn’t feel the pain. And the Goblins were suddenly surrounding her. They poured out of the inn as Erin tried to keep them away. And they all had knives.