The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  Mrsha didn’t want to talk. She wanted to be sad. She wanted to hurt. Erin understood that, but she also had to be heard. So she compromised. She held Mrsha’s paw and stroked it. At first, the Gnoll tried to pull away, but then she gave up and lay there, weeping, as Erin patted her head and stroked her fur. After a while, Erin felt it was time to speak.

  “I should have talked with you a long time ago about this, Mrsha. About the Goblins, I mean.”

  The Gnoll froze up and her paw was suddenly sharp with claws in Erin’s hand. The young woman adjusted her grip and sighed.

  “Mrsha. Listen to me.”

  The Gnoll didn’t want to listen. She pulled hard, and Erin pulled right back. Surprised, Mrsha tumbled out of her bedding and met Erin’s eyes. The [Innkeeper] bent her head and spoke in a quiet, direct voice.

  “Mrsha. Hating the Goblins is not wrong.”

  The Gnoll Cub froze. She looked up at Erin and the young woman nodded.

  “No, it’s not. I should have said that to you earlier. Hating the Goblins isn’t wrong. They killed your tribe, your friends—why shouldn’t you hate them?”

  Confusion. Mrsha stopped pulling and listened. Erin tugged her closer, until she was sitting across from Mrsha, very close. She met the Gnoll’s eyes.

  “It’s not wrong. Anyone would hate them for that. Hating Goblins isn’t wrong. But hating all Goblins, hating these Goblins—that’s not right, either.”

  The conversation had only one voice, but it was not one-sided. Mrsha narrowed her eyes and Erin went on.

  “Listen, Mrsha. I am going to tell you something important. Something you have to learn. And it’s this: people are not the same. Understand?”

  A silence. Uncomprehending. Pain.

  “That’s all there is. People are not the same. Where I come from Mrsha, people look…well, we’re all Human. But we’re not all the same. Some of us have black skin, some have white skin, others have long hair—some are men and some are women. We are not all the same. Not all Humans are the same, right? That’s simple. You’re smart. You know that Lyonette and I aren’t the same, right?”

  A smile and in return, a small nod. Puzzlement.

  “But some people think that, oh, because Lyonette and I are both female that we’re the same. Or—they think all people with black skin are the same. And that’s not true. There are good people and bad people, Mrsha. And they might look alike in some ways, but they aren’t. I could look at Ishkr and Brunkr and if I was really silly, I’d say they look alike. But they’re not, are they?”

  A quick shake of the head.

  “No, no they aren’t. But some people think that way. In fact, most of us do it. We don’t mean to, but we do. And that means we judge everyone by the actions of a few. Like Goblins. They are not all the same.”

  Eyes widening. Looking away, tense.

  “Mrsha. Not all Goblins are the same. That is what I have to tell you. Just that.”

  Just that? Looking back. A nod.

  “That’s it. I’m not going to tell you all Goblins aren’t evil, or they aren’t all murderers, because then I’m talking about all of them. I’m just telling you that you can’t judge all of them without seeing them. Like the ones downstairs. They’re Goblins. But they haven’t hurt anyone. Aside from evil goats, that is.”

  Looking down. Paw clenched. Erin lowered her voice softly.

  “You don’t have to like them. I won’t ever make you do that.”

  Mrsha looked up.

  “I promise. You don’t even have to go near them. But you can’t hurt them. Because they’re not the ones who killed your tribe.”

  The Gnoll began to shake. Erin drew her closer and hugged her.

  “I’m sorry, Mrsha. They’re not. They might look like Goblins, but they are not the same. They didn’t know. And you don’t have to like another Goblin if you don’t want to. You don’t have to forgive. Not right now. But you can’t blame them all for the same thing. They’re different. Like you and like me.”

  Silence. Trembling. Erin tried to explain the last bit. The most important bit.

  “I’m letting them stay here. Not because I think they’re innocent, but because I don’t think they’re bad. And Mrsha, they’ve given me no reason to distrust them. If they did, I would kick them out in an instant. Believe me. But they’ve done nothing bad. So that’s why I’m giving them a chance.”

  She whispered to the Gnoll as she hugged her.

  “They might not deserve a second chance. But everyone deserves a first one. That’s what I think. And you don’t have to like that. You don’t have to like them. But you do have to accept that that’s what I believe. And if you try to hurt them again, Mrsha—that can’t happen. Understand?”

  The Gnoll looked down. She wasn’t crying now. She was just…lost. Erin looked at her.

  “Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going downstairs to sort the rest of this out, Mrsha. And you’re going to come with me.”

  The Gnoll jolted in fear. Erin held her.

  “You don’t have to do anything. You can sit with the Halfseekers. With Moore. And you’ll be safe, Mrsha. The Goblins won’t do anything. If they hurt you, if they do anything bad, you tell me and I will cut them up into little pieces. But I don’t think they will. If you see them doing something bad, you tell me. Otherwise, you come down this once, and then you can do what you want, okay?”

  A long pause. Erin waited as Mrsha thought about this, as she struggled—and then nodded slowly. Erin bent and kissed her on the head.

  “You’re very brave. And I know you’re hurting. Just remember what I told you. People are not the same. Now, let’s wipe that blood off and bring you downstairs. You can eat something hot and we’ll sort the rest of this out, okay?”

  She reached out and a small Gnoll took her hand. And if Mrsha was afraid as they went downstairs, if she flinched from the Goblins, that was okay. She went willingly and sat next to Moore and Jelaqua, holding both their legs for support. That was all Erin had hoped for.

  A start.

  —-

  This was how it got better. With food, with enforced sitting, as the blood cooled and regrets took over. With an [Innkeeper], going around to each table, talking to people, holding hands—treating them as people. Yellow Spatters sat very still and didn’t look around. He could sense the other Soldiers and Workers looking at him.

  And he was lost. He didn’t know what he’d done. He’d tried to kill Purple Smile at the end of it. Another Soldier. One of his brothers.

  One of his people.

  He was barely conscious of Erin moving around the room, and then her exasperatedly arguing with the Gnoll, Ishkr, over an object.

  “Why did you buy this if you cannot play it? It seems like a waste of money, yes?”

  “I thought I could learn! I want music, Ishkr, and I don’t want to pay for a [Bard] or something. If I could teach myself—”

  “Why not let me play?”

  “Wait, you know how to play?”

  Erin stared at the Gnoll in disbelief. Ishkr looked embarrassed and scratched behind one ear as Lyonette and Drassi passed out strong drinks for everyone.

  “I play a bit. Not this instrument, but I have earned coins doing it before. Hrr. Ahem. This is similar to instruments I know, though. Still.”

  He frowned at the guitar, looking at it dubiously.

  “Why not an oud, or a mandolin? I’ve played a gittern, but this?”

  Ishkr poked the guitar with one claw, looking dubious. Erin stared at him anxiously.

  “I have no idea what those other things are. Most of the music from my country is on this…well, I guess there’s the violin, cello, and so on. Ukuleles…look, if you can play this, that’d be great.”

  “Hrr. I can try.”

  The Gnoll lifted the guitar and slung the strap around his shoulder. He strummed across the strings, making a sound that Erin hadn’t been able to after ten minutes of trying. Erin gasped with delight and hurried into the kitchen
. Lyonette stared as Ishkr played a chord quickly and easily.

  “Don’t your claws get in the way?”

  Ishkr smiled at her.

  “They do. I cut them short, but I’ve also learned to play with them. Many Gnoll instruments are made to be easier for my people to play anyways, though. And this is one.”

  “Oh. No wonder Erin couldn’t play it.”

  “Hrm? What? Humans could play it without much difficulty. Perhaps she is just, ah—”

  He broke off as Erin came out of the kitchen. She had a bit of parchment in one hand and thrust it at him anxiously.

  “I tried to write down songs in my spare time. Good ones from home. I can remember the lyrics, but the notes—I uh, I think I’ve gotten it mostly down. Could you—could you try playing this?”

  Ishkr accepted the parchment and studied it. After a second he looked up.

  “This—is not music, Miss Erin. I cannot read it.”

  “What? No, it’s good music! Pop songs! Why can’t you play it?”

  The Gnoll looked incredulously at her, and then shifted the parchment and pointed at a section.

  “It says here…twang, twang, higher-pitched twang? How am I supposed to play that?”

  Erin turned bright red and snatched the parchment back from him. Across the inn, a Goblin laughed out loud and then fell silent as everyone stared at him. But the laughter was good.

  “I’m not good with music, okay? Look, how about this? Can you play something like—”

  She hummed, and Ishkr tried to copy the sound. Erin broke off.

  “No, not like that. Do it more like—double the sound here. Good! And make it lower. Longer—don’t glare at me! I know how it should sound in my head! Try another string. No, not that string. This string!”

  As she argued with Ishkr, Lyonette went around the room, trying to serve the three different groups in the room and praying none of them would cause trouble. Surprisingly…they didn’t. The Antinium were sitting in a kind of meditative silence, Purple Smile and Yellow Splatters sitting and staring at each other and at Erin. Yellow Splatters had his arms folded, but he didn’t look like he was going to start another fight. He looked like he was sulking, actually.

  The Goblins were listening to Erin and Ishkr, wincing every time he played a discordant note. But they seemed more entertained by this than they had by anything else. As for Mrsha and the adventurers—she was having her fur stroked by three different sets of hands at once as she stared at the Goblins. All was tranquil for now, and Lyonette conspired with Drassi and several mugs of alcohol to keep it that way.

  “We’ve never served the Goblins ale!”

  Drassi hissed at Lyonette as they filled up mugs by the bar. Lyonette shook her head. Really? They hadn’t? But everyone drank. And yet, Lyonette couldn’t remember ever serving the Goblins a real drink besides milk, juice, or water. That felt a bit…wrong, to her.

  “So what? They’re guests, Drassi. Fill the mugs and serve them, and help me find the stronger stuff. Where does Erin keep it? We’ll try them on it, and if they don’t like it, well, Jelaqua and Seborn drink like mules!”

  The Drake grimaced, but didn’t object. She pointed to the kitchen.

  “Erin keeps it hidden behind the potatoes, remember? After Mrsha tried drinking some—”

  “Right. Thanks!”

  And then there was music. Lyonette went back into the common room and heard something. A melody. It was quiet, and had a few mistakes at the start, but there was a…feeling it carried. Just a few repeating notes on a guitar played by a Gnoll. But then Erin began to sing.

  At first her voice was out of place. The guitar and her words were not enough. Erin frowned and looked around.

  “Guess I don’t have an immortal moment. Hold on, we need a drum for this to work properly.”

  She ran into the kitchen and grabbed a long wooden spoon and a wooden tong. After a moment Erin grabbed a large bowl and ran out. She plonked the bowl onto a table in front of Numbtongue. He stared at it.

  “Can you give me a beat? And you—Headscratcher. I bet you can match my voice, right? I need a chorus.”

  The Goblins gaped at her. But now the guitar solo had an accompaniment. Erin began to clap her lands rhythmically and Headscratcher was the first to copy. She turned.

  “Come on, then! I need some help! Numbtongue, give me a beat.”

  The Goblin picked up the spoon and began to hit the bowl. The sound was high—too high. Erin made him slap the bowl and then the Goblins began to pound on the table. She turned, and then she needed voices.

  “Ceria? I know you can sing. Yvlon—Ksmvr? Pisces? Aw, don’t be like that. All you need to sing is this—now, I want a beat! Come on Numbtongue, hit that table!”

  The Goblin slapped the table and there was something like a proper drumbeat. Ishkr bent over the notes, playing, and now Erin had a crowd. She pointed at the other Soldiers and Workers.

  “I could use some clapping! Join in any time? Okay? Let’s start. I’ll start and you join in like this? Ready? One, two, three!”

  And then there was music. It started out disjointed, and then it grew louder. Erin began to sing as the guitar’s melody became only one part of a symphony. Voices joined with hers, and the Goblins clapped and slapped the table to music. The first music they had heard.

  Sitting by himself, Yellow Splatters tried to ignore it. He did. He tried to tell himself there were things that mattered more. He sat, hunched, trying not to listen. It was just sound.

  But then he heard a Soldier begin to stomp on the floor. The voices of the singers blended with the beat. Yellow Splatters stared at the Soldier. He was thumping the floor with his feet, and then clapping his hands together clumsily. He knew Yellow Splatters was watching, but the other Soldier didn’t care. And then another Soldier stood up. He began to beat a rhythm on the table with an empty cup, and the others joined in.

  Now the beat ran through the inn. Erin stood in the center, laughing and singing. And one of the Goblins was singing too. Numbtongue had memorized every word. Across the inn, Moore was gently thumping the table as Mrsha bounced up and down. Jelaqua, Ceria, Yvlon—even Pisces was joining into the chorus. Drassi and Lyonette were singing as they passed around drinks.

  And now the music was reaching into Yellow Splatters’ mind, into his body, tugging at his heart, searching for his soul. He couldn’t help it. He uncurled and his leg began jiggling to the beat. That was the start.

  Erin paused the music and amid cheering, began to teach them another song. She started with Ishkr, and then gave the others a beat and words to sing to. And the words reached into a place that Yellow Splatters had forgotten he had. He listened to Erin, a Human who knew nothing of his pain, sing. And somehow, the words were meant for him. She sang about home, about belonging, and the music broke Yellow Splatters’ heart and healed it at the same time.

  That was how it began. Erin knew a hundred songs, some which required guitars, some which required a beat, others which were solo. Some were sad, others tragic. Others made the people in the inn sit up and made the hearts beating inside race. Others made them dance. Erin grabbed Headscratcher and linked arms with him. She began to dance with the surprised Goblin.

  “Hey all of you! Is this a party or not? Come on! Show me how you dance!”

  That was how it began. Yellow Splatters found himself dragged up and spun around. Soldiers didn’t know how to dance. But he found that there were no rules to it. He saw Purple Smile doing a two-step with Ksmvr across the floor, taught by an amused Erin. At one point Jelaqua took the dance floor and began what the Antinium could only term enthusiastic flailing. But it was so enjoyable that a Worker, Mrsha, and Drassi copied her.

  Dancing was different. The music demanded it. Yellow Splatters found himself whirling, arms wide, spinning in place. And that was fun! And then Erin told them they were only getting started. He looked at her and felt like crying. Because at some point he’d realized he was wrong. And when Purple Smile looked
at him and offered him a mug of ale, Yellow Splatters searched for the pain and anxiety and anger in his chest and realized it was gone.

  The music had taken it away.

  —-

  The party in the inn had music, people, food, and more importantly, a need. After so many days of tension and anxiety, all of that emotion had to go one way. And so Erin took it and released it. She filled her inn with music and people heard.

  “I heard an odd sound. What is going on? Oh. Hello Ksmvr, other Antinium I do not know. Are you having a good day? Good. I am Bird.”

  The Antinium on the roof came down, swept up by the music. He found himself shouting at Badarrow about arrows as the Goblin admired his bow. Bird quite enjoyed that. He kept waving his arms and shouting over the music.

  “You shot me! It was a good shot! I said good shot! Show me how!”

  That was the first. Then a Worker took a wrong turn going to the bathroom and Octavia poked her head into the inn, looking outraged.

  “Hey, what’s all that noise? I’m trying to wor—hey, what’s this music?”

  She came in. And she was the last. No one would come to an inn with Goblins, after all. No matter what they heard.

  —-

  A group of Drake and Gnoll [Guardsmen], or rather [Guardspeople] since there were [Guardswomen] among them as well was patrolling around Liscor, searching for monsters nests and so on. They heard the music echoing from the inn on their way back.

  “Hey, that’s a good song.”

  One of the Drakes looked up as she heard the beat coming from the inn. Another Drake leaned on his spear and sighed.

  “Huh. That’s loud.”

  The other [Guardsmen] looked at each other. One coughed.

  “There’s Goblins at that inn now.”

  The others nodded.

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn Goblins.”

  “Can’t imagine what that innkeeper’s thinking.”

  “Eh. She was always crazy. Remember that time she was singing and there was all that music? Good food. Dancing…”

  “Yeah. Shame she has all those Goblins there.”