The Wandering Inn_Volume 1, page 640
Headscratcher shook his head. Lyonette traded glances with Drassi.
“Okay then—uh, let us bring them over.”
She waited until Headscratcher retreated to the table where the five Goblins were sitting. They were already eating a pile of greasy bacon—and several loaves of buttered bread, but Lyonette knew their appetites were endless. She turned to Drassi and the Drake gave her a pleading look.
“Lyonette, I—”
“You just collect the bowls here, and I’ll bring them over, okay?”
The Drake gave her a pathetic look of gratitude. Lyonette hurried over to the table. The Goblins cleared a space and the one called Badarrow grunted in what might have been thanks. He was definitely the grumpy Goblin of the five. Not that Lyonette had gotten to know them that well; they kept to themselves.
They kept eating, and Lyonette finished putting the last bowl on their table. She retreated to finish cleaning up with Drassi. Both [Barmaids] got out rags and soapy water and began to scrub, chattering amongst themselves.
“That scared me. I mean, I’ve been here two days with them and I know they’re…okay. But I just come in and—”
“I know.”
Lyonette sighed as she looked back towards the Goblins. She caught one of them—Numbtongue—looking at her and both Goblin and Human quickly glanced away. Lyonette grimaced.
The Goblins. Of all Erin’s ideas, and she had had many good ones, crazy ones, and extraordinarily bad ones, this might be the worst. Not that Lyonette didn’t have sympathy or understand why she’d done it. It was just that the consequence of her actions had really sunk in by now.
The inn was deserted. No one had come in today, from Celum or Liscor save for the two adventuring groups staying here. Added to that, the one employee who came by—Ishkr still hadn’t returned after Brunkr’s death—was scared stiff of the Goblins. If it came to that, so was Lyonette.
How could she not be? They were Goblins, no, not just Goblins, but Hobgoblins, the terror of little children’s dreams! You heard stories of Hobs sneaking into houses to kidnap children, and the way they could kill Silver-rank adventurers. It was all very well for them to sit around and just eat, but every time Lyonette saw their crimson eyes or caught them staring at her, she felt afraid.
And she never knew what they were thinking, either. The Goblins rarely spoke, just poked each other and grunted. And if they did speak, it was in their own guttural language. She couldn’t tell if they hated her, if they liked what was going on or anything. Whenever they came out of the cellar Lyonette felt like she was walking on eggshells.
Drassi clearly felt the same way. She was chattering, as usual. And whenever Drassi was upset, she chattered more than usual. Lyonette had gotten used to it and tried to tune most of it out.
“It’s just, I mean, I’m cool with Gnolls. Grew up around them my whole life, dated two—not that fun, let me tell you. Gnolls get so serious when you’re in a relationship, talking about the tribe, never wanting to just have a fling—and they’re furry. Hair everywhere, especially in beds. Scales I can handle, but hair? I don’t know how you Humans stand it. But then, you don’t have much hair, do you? But Gnolls…and the Antinium are fine. I don’t see them much. Klbkch has been around ever since I was young, so I’m totally used to him—”
“Mhm.”
“And Humans? Hah, totally cool. Okay, every year there are drills and alarms when the Humans send an army to the Blood Fields and we’re not supposed to like them and ancient history and all that but, Ancestors, at least they’re fun to party with! That door to Celum is great—and the plays! I liked them, I really did, although a bunch of my friends hated the Juliet and Romeo one. You know, because of interspecies relationships? I dunno, I don’t mind, do you?”
“Yeah.”
“Exactly! So Goblins. Totally get what Erin’s saying. I think. No killing Goblins. They don’t kill us, we don’t kill them. Easy. Except for the Goblin Lord. And Goblins who steal. That’s a problem. But I wish they’d talk, you know? Raise their voices? It’d be better than scaring my scales off—I might go bald! At my age! If they just said something—”
Too late, Lyonette realized where Drassi was going and saw a Goblin moving. One stood up from his table and Drassi shut up quick. She backed up and Lyonette stepped in front of her. The Goblin who was walking towards them was…Numbtongue. She smiled at him, remembering where Erin had told her all of Octavia’s alchemy weapons were hidden.
“Hi, sorry about that. Drassi was just talking.”
“Hm.”
He narrowed his eyes are her. Lyonette could feel Drassi shaking. She smiled, and then, amazingly, Numbtongue grunted and spoke.
“No offense. Clarify. To Drake. Why Goblins not speak.”
She gaped at him. Behind him, Drassi had frozen.
“You can speak?”
Numbtongue gave her an exasperated look and nodded. The other four Goblins were leaning out from their table, peering at his back. They looked away as Lyonette’s eyes slid towards them. Numbtongue grumbled a bit, and then looked at Drassi. He narrowed his eyes at her and spoke again.
“Goblins can speak. Speak all kinds of word. And can hear. Can listen. Don’t speak because we don’t need. Understand?”
The Drake quivered and nodded repeatedly.
“Y-yes! I totally understand! You’re good? That’s good! I’m glad everyone’s good! Please don’t get mad! I was only—”
Drassi shrank back against the wall, serving platter clutched in front of her like a shield. Numbtongue looked at her, snorted, and then stomped away. Lyonette wavered between going after him and comforting Drassi. She chose the latter.
“Don’t worry! He was just trying to—to well, explain, I guess. Goblins can speak, they just don’t want to. And they can hear us, okay?”
“Got it! Got it. I was just—I was talking and I didn’t mean—”
“I’m sure they’re not offended.”
Lyonette peeked at the Goblins. Badarrow rolled his eyes and shook his head. Shorthilt looked up, halfway through inhaling a rash of bacon, and waved a hand. Drassi relaxed a bit.
“Okay.”
“But why don’t we talk about something else instead? Or not talk?”
“I can do that, I think. Not talk. I did that for an entire day once, on a dare. Selys bet me two silver coins I couldn’t do it, and it was worth it seeing her face. And I don’t talk all the time, I just like to talk, you know? Who doesn’t talk to people? It’s better to talk than not talk is what I say, which is why I thought about being a [Receptionist], but Selys said that if I applied she’d quit, so I decided—”
Smiling, Lyonette rolled her eyes and turned around. She frowned as she saw a flash of white by the stairs.
“Mrsha?”
Every head downstairs turned. The Gnoll cub froze as she crept downstairs, the wand she’d stolen from Pisces in hand. Her eyes went wide as she saw the Goblins looking at her. She looked to Lyonette.
“It’s okay. They’re just eating. Sorry—”
Lyonette looked at the Goblins and they turned back to their food. Erin had explained to the Goblins that Mrsha was afraid of them, although they hadn’t brought up the details of Goblins actually slaughtering her tribe. Lyonette approached the stairwell, holding her hands out. Mrsha was trembling as she stared at the Goblins’ backs.
“Mrsha, honey—”
The Gnoll looked at her, made a hissing sound, and fled back upstairs. Lyonette nearly went after them, until she heard Erin’s voice.
“Okay, I am done making bread! I’ve made enough bread for an entire month, so if we need it—bread’s done! Whew!”
She emerged from the kitchen in a small cloud of flour, dusting her hands. Erin had been cooking a lot in order to keep up with the Goblins’ appetites. She spotted the Goblins and waked over to them, smiling carefully.
“Heeeeeey.”
They looked up at her warily. Erin paused a few feet from their table and raised her voice. She was trying a bit too hard to be friendly, Lyonette thought.
“How are you guys doing? Good? Sorry about the Antinium. Don’t know what was up with that. You liking the food?”
They nodded. Erin stared at them.
“How’s the bacon? Good? Anyone want more?”
They nodded, and then shook their heads. Lyonette stared at Numbtongue, but he didn’t seem inclined to say anything. Erin hesitated. Clearly she would have preferred conversation.
“You’re cool? I mean, you don’t want more food?”
The Goblins nodded. Erin stared helplessly at them.
“Okay, then. Let me know if you need…anything.”
They did not. And when they were done eating, they got up, went to use the outhouse, and then opened the cellar door and went into the basement without a word. Lyonette collected the bowls and utensils. They’d been licked clean.
“I guess you can wash these if you want.”
She suggested that to Drassi. The Drake nodded, and then looked anxious.
“Lyonette, look…I haven’t been doing much, and there’s not a lot for me to do right now. Are you sure I should be here? I can work less time if you think—”
Lyonette forced herself to smile at Drassi reassuringly.
“What, and rob you of your pay? Don’t worry about it. Erin tells me we have a lot of money, and I don’t want to wash all these dishes.”
“Still, wiping a few tables and washing dishes isn’t exactly a lot, you know?”
She had a point. Lyonette thought and replied carefully.
“If you want to take care of the Horns of Hammerad and Halfseekers when they come by, I could use a break. How about that?”
Drassi beamed in relief.
“Oh, yes, thanks! I can’t just go back and not do anything; I’d feel like a total sponge, just like Wessa! Have I told you about her? Dreadful. She’s got no class—or classes! I think she’s what, a Level 2 [Laborer]? She sponges money off of everyone. Now, I try to talk to her, but she never listens. Do you know what she told Selys one time? Selys nearly decked her for saying it. Okay it was—”
Lyonette listened to her for a few more minutes, nodding mechanically, and then excused herself to go into the kitchen while Drassi wiped the Goblin’s table down. Erin was sitting in the kitchen, in front of about forty loafs of pristine bread. Lyonette stared at the bread pile and then looked at Erin.
“Everything…okay, Erin?”
“Yes. No.”
Erin stared at the bread she’d baked all day, looking glum. She turned towards Lyonette.
“No. It’s the Goblins.”
“What…precisely about them?”
The [Innkeeper] sighed.
“I don’t know if they like it here, Lyonette. I don’t know if I’m talking with them or if it’s all pointless, you know?”
“I think I do.”
Erin nodded, ticking off problems on her floury fingers.
“They don’t like chess, other games, talking, or hanging around upstairs, Lyonette. I guess I can’t blame them, since no one likes them. And no one will come here until they’re gone, which I know might not be a bad thing, but if they go now—”
“You want to be friends with them first?”
Lyonette rested her backside on the counter. Erin looked at her, shrugged, tried to laugh, and gave up.
“Not that. I don’t need to be friends with them, but I want them to understand me. I want to understand them, just a bit. Or—or I want them to leave and know how I feel about them. I’m just trying to tell them—I don’t know.”
Erin sighed, her shoulders slumping. She looked at Lyonette, worry in her eyes.
“If they disappear in the middle of the night Lyonette, or decide to try and find Rags or—or do anything, I think they’ll be killed. Zevara’s watching the inn—I can feel it. And I’m not sure the Halfseekers wouldn’t follow them either. And if they got around all of them, if they go back north—the Goblin Lord’s soldiers will kill them, right? They’re the enemy tribe.”
“Maybe. But they’re used to living alone, aren’t they? Don’t you think they’d prefer to find their own people?”
Carefully, Lyonette peeked at Erin. The young woman sighed.
“Probably. It’s just that I don’t think they know where Rags is. And…they’re lost, Lyonette. Lost. That’s what I get from them. I want to help them a bit. And I just don’t know if I can, or if they’re willing. I can’t understand them.”
“I think they understand more than they let on.”
“Yeah. Probably. But even if they do, that’s not the same as connecting with us, as liking us or—or getting to really know us.”
“Mm. Maybe they don’t want to. Have you thought about that?”
Erin looked up. Her gaze firmed a bit as she met Lyonette’s eyes.
“I have. And I don’t believe that. Rags wanted to know. I think these Goblins are just—afraid.”
Afraid? Only Erin would characterize them that way. Lyonette sat with her, not knowing what else to say.
“They’ll have to do something sometime. They’re already starting to eat less.”
“Yeah. I think it’ll end soon, one way or the other. Thanks for putting up with this, Lyonette. I know Mrsha’s…”
“Yes.”
Mrsha. She refused to eat downstairs anymore, and she had grown increasingly agitated as days went by. She refused to play with Lyonette, refused to give back Pisces’ wand—not that he’d tried hard to recover it—and Lyonette knew she was growing more upset. She might have tried to get Selys or Krshia to look after her, but Mrsha refused to go. She refused to leave and she refused to go anywhere near the Goblins.
Both girls were silent for a moment, and then Erin looked up.
“Thank you for all the help, Lyonette. Can you bear with it for a while longer? I think it won’t be long.”
“I can, don’t worry about me.”
“Thank you.”
Lyonette smiled. And she was telling the truth. But as she left Erin to sit by herself in the kitchen, she thought that she wasn’t the one Erin needed to be worried about. The inn had been empty for days, Drassi was afraid, Mrsha wouldn’t go downstairs or interact with Lyonette, and the Goblins were growing restless.
The Horns of Hammerad and Halfseekers barely came back except to eat and sleep, and sometimes not to eat. And the Antinium had been acting very odd lately. Especially the one who’d refused to eat his food. If they all started refusing to eat at Erin’s inn, how long could it stay open with almost no revenue?
Yes, she wasn’t the one Erin should be worried about. It was everyone else.
—-
Night fell. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t work to do. Yellow Spatters knew the dungeon sent monsters to attack be it day or night, so he took the first rotation on the front lines. They had been pushed up right to the dungeon’s entrance, so he took nineteen Soldiers, including Pink Stripes, to be on alert.
They clashed with monsters twice, both times smashing the enemy—a wave of Shield Spiders and then giant centipedes—into pulp. Yellow Splatters kept the Soldiers at their post for four hours, and then brought them back to the barracks.
He was tired now, but he still had enough energy, so Yellow Splatters began to spar with the Soldiers on the night rotation. Train, train! He wanted to get to Level 13 today or tomorrow. He was so engrossed in his mock combat with the two Soldiers that he only noticed Pink Stripes when he walked into the sparring arena.
The new Antinium Soldier was battered from his day’s activities. The cracked chitin from Yellow Spatters’ blows, the fatigue of going above and then patrolling with the other Soldiers—he was clearly tired, but Yellow Spatters appreciated his willingness to spar. He stepped towards Pink Stripes, ready for a bout, when the other Antinium began to suddenly shudder.
Yellow Spatters stopped in surprise. Pink Stripes was trembling in place, in the center of the sparring area. He was shaking, bending to clutch at his antennae, backing up from Yellow Splatters. His mandibles clashed together wildly, and then his body convulsed.
His head lowered, and then it rose. All four of Pink Stripe’s hands clenched into fists, and as he looked up, towards Yellow Splatters, there was something different about his gaze. His mandibles opened as wide as they could, and a strangled, half-scream emerged from his mouth.
The Soldiers in the barracks froze. Soldiers didn’t speak! They couldn’t make real noises, but Pink Stripes—
There was madness in his gaze. No, not madness. Something worse. He trembled as he lurched towards Yellow Spatters, and the [Sergeant] Antinium realized with a cold chill what had happened.
Aberration. Pink Stripes had become an Aberration.
But how? He was Individual! He shouldn’t become—Soldiers almost never became—
It was too late for questions. Pink Stripes lunged at Yellow Spatters, hands reaching to tear him apart. He bit, his mandibles trying to pierce Yellow Splatters’ body, his fists pounding on the larger Antinium.
Other Soldiers rushed forwards, yanking Pink Stripes off Yellow Spatters. There were over a hundred in the barracks, but Pink Stripes fought with possessed strength, throwing Soldiers off him, battering the ones who tried to hold him down, all the while trying to attack Yellow Spatters.
In the end, Pink Stripes was contained, bars of iron bent and hammered into crude restraints to prevent him from attacking anyone. He still thrashed around on the ground though, staring at Yellow Splatters. With…hate in his eyes.
It was incomprehensible. Yellow Spatters lay where he had fallen, even when Pawn and Klbkch rushed into the barracks, demanding answers. He stared at Pink Stripes, as the Aberration gazed in fury at him and was taken to a holding cell. A holding cell that had to be constructed before he could be taken there.
Yellow Spatters lay on the ground, seeing Soldiers look at him, avoiding Pawn’s despairing gaze and sensing Purple Smile staring at him across the room. But all the while, he was looking at Pink Stripes, at the Soldier who had abandoned who he was. Why? For what reason? They were doing this for Soldiers like Pink Stripes. Everything Yellow Spatters had done—the war was still continuing. Why had Pink Stripes become Aberration?
