by Jeff Inlo
The other goblins shouted with glee
"Two in a row!" they roared.
The goblin being stared at by the one dead eye cursed, but did not argue the result of the toss. Refusal would be useless. Even from halfway across the room, the fateful direction of the shag eye was clear. The defeated goblin took two coins from his dwindling stack and flipped them to the goblin that made the roll.
The winner looked first at the coins, as if counting to two was a difficult procedure, then turned an angry glare at the loser.
"Two more!"
"Why two more?"
"Two in a row. You pay double this time."
While the losing goblin would not debate the direction of the gaze, it objected to the amount lost.
"I did pay double. I paid two! Everyone saw."
As the dispute grew in intensity, Ryson could not believe what he was hearing. He never knew goblins to concern themselves with rules of any sort, and yet here they were arguing about the betting rules of a twisted game in the back of a tavern filled with human patrons that seemed utterly oblivious to the ghoulish scene and the raucous debate. He almost wondered if he had lost his sanity.
Sane or not, the goblin that made the roll demanded greater payment.
"Double is four! You paid two. You pay two more!"
"Not four! Just two." The goblin then pointed to the eye that had rolled with its pupil down into the tabletop. "One eye staring down, not at me."
"But two in a row, so double!"
"Double one eye, not double two. One eye pays one. Two eyes pay two. One eye doubled is two."
The other goblins turned their heads in obvious confusion. Math was obviously not their strong suit, except for maybe one other.
"Two in a row is double full bet," a rebuttal voiced out. "Doesn't matter how many eyes. Full bet is two. Double is four."
The other goblins quickly agreed. They didn't understand the calculation or the logic behind it, but they certainly comprehended the conclusion.
"Pay four!" several of them shouted out in near unison-laughing and snorting.
The loser was not so eager to agree.
"But double half a bet, because it's only one eye. Double is two. I paid two. Won't pay more."
The declaration did not sit well with the goblin that cast the eyes. Two in a row was a rarity and the goblin wanted its just reward. It reached over to the coin stack of the loser and snatched two more.
The brazen move infuriated the goblin that was being stared at by one shag eye.
"Thief!" the loser accused, and it pulled the short sword from its belt as it stood up on the chair. "Cut off hands!"
Each goblin followed suit and in an instant they were all waving their weapons frantically about. Despite the fact the other goblins had unanimously agreed the loss should have totaled four coins, they did not all gang up on the loser. Snatching coins from another's pile was also apparently deemed inappropriate behavior, and the argument rose to another level of anger and accusation. The small monsters spit and cursed at each other, and threats of violence escalated.
Believing tensions were set to boil over into a wild riot, Ryson placed his hands upon the handles of his war blades, ready to pull them out in order to defend the crowd of bystanders from the likely brawl. He took three agile steps toward the back table, hoping to create a clear path to the goblins before the human patrons took to flight. To his absolute surprise, not one human rose, not one made any effort to leave.
The delver could not completely dismiss the reaction of the crowd even as he eyed the bickering dark creatures with raised alarm. Yes, the humans had been subdued in their previous attention toward the goblins in the corner, but that was before swords were drawn and threats exchanged. He expected the other patrons to leap for cover or make a hasty retreat to the exit.
Every one else in the tavern certainly noticed the escalation at the goblin table, and their faces revealed true concern, but they made no move for the exit. If anything, they looked more to the front door with alarm and shied away from it as if the true danger waited out in the streets as opposed to near the ruckus in the back of the tavern.
It didn't take long for the answer to become clear, which in itself was surprising. No one shouted out an alarm, no one called for help, but they showed up anyway, as if they sensed the disturbance in the air. Once they made their presence known, everyone-even the delver-understood that they were the true threat, not some pathetic goblin short sword.
Ryson felt them before he caught their scent, heard their footsteps, or watched them throw open the door. The inside of the tavern rose several degrees before they even entered. The room was already uncomfortably warm. Even during the night, temperatures of the high sun season seldom dropped to a point that might cool off a room full of people. When the heat of half-demons is added to the heavy humidity of sultry night air, a crowded tavern can feel like a brick oven, and inferns generated and radiated heat as if their core consisted of trapped lava.
Only three entered, though Ryson could sense several more outside the building. The three inferns marched into the center of the tavern with indifference to everything but their intended mission. Their pale faces exposed a total lack of feeling. Though they burned with some unnatural inner fire, their emotions lacked any such passion.
Despite their short stature, their very presence commanded attention across the entire room. Not everyone within the tavern could see their black armor covered bodies or their hairless ghost white faces, but none could ignore the sun-like glow that surrounded each infern or the reddish blaze of the metal javelins in their hands.
The goblins turned with a start and their previous argument became as important to them as a dust mite burrowed in some small hole underfoot. They forgot about the bet, disregarded the theft, and turned their focus to surviving. Every one of the monsters quickly sheathed their swords and dropped back down into their seats.
The display of contrition and compliance, however, was lost on the inferns. They meant to confront the goblins, and so they would-whether they were arguing or sitting peacefully in their chairs engaged in calm discussion. The half-demons disregarded the humans, even ignored Ryson-who was standing between them and the goblins. They simply pressed through, taking a single direct route toward the back table.
Ryson had to jump to the side to avoid the inferns. The heat around him doubled in intensity. The delver wondered how the creatures could survive such temperatures. He imagined they would burst into flames at any moment, and he would not be the least bit surprised if their tracks left smoldering footprints. He looked to the ground, and though he could see no scorch marks, he could actually sense the heat from the floorboards where they had stepped.
The goblins at the table tried to refocus on their game, tried to pretend that nothing had happened. Their argument ceased, they placed all their focus on the center of the table as if hoping that by ignoring the inferns, the half-demons might leave. One goblin even picked up the shag eyes and attempted to make a roll.
With a flash of speed that surprised even the delver, the lead infern swung its javelin, and the hot metal crashed against the goblin's wrist. The metal spear remained firmly in the infern's hands as the half-demon twisted the weapon with great skill. A wide hook protruded out slightly below the point of the spear, and the infern manipulated the javelin to grab the goblin's wrist with the hook. Turning the weapon downward, the infern jabbed the point into the tabletop, thereby trapping the goblin's arm and keeping it from completing the intended toss.
The goblin screamed as the hot metal burned into its forearm. It tried to pull its arm away, but it could not free its wrist from the javelin's hook. The dark creature squirmed in pain as it squealed, but even the sounds of it shrieks could not completely cover the sound of burning goblin flesh hissing from contact with red hot metal.
Ryson found both the sound and the smell beyond unpleasant. The sickening scene turned his stomach. He couldn't bare the sight of watching the gobli
n tortured. He knew it would be beyond foolish to reveal his delver identity to the inferns, but he could not allow the attack to continue. Just as he began to pull the war blades from their sheaths, he held his position.
The lead infern pulled its weapon away from the table and allowed the goblin to slip its hand free. As its back was to Ryson, the half-demon never knew the peril it faced from the delver. Instead, its focus returned to the point of its mission, the reason it entered the tavern, and to that end, it needed quiet. With the wounded goblin whimpering but no longer screaming, it looked over the entire group of diminutive monsters that sat in relative silence.
Ryson slid the half revealed war blades silently back into their sheaths and carefully stepped away. It was not his intention to escape the tavern, and so he found a strategic position away from attention. He needed to gain more information on goblins and inferns in Ashlan, and the encounter in the tavern offered such an opportunity. No longer feeling the need to intervene, he could watch and listen from a distance while safeguarding his own identity.
The humans in the establishment held no such desire to hear what the infern had to say. They pulled their chairs in close to their tables as if to gain security from the heavy wooden surfaces. They turned further away from the encounter-fear overwhelming any curiosity. If they could have covered their ears without drawing attention to themselves, they probably all would have clasped their hands at the sides of their heads.
The half-demon in charge ignored everything but the goblins. Despite the pulsating heat that surrounded its form, the infern's voice echoed cold throughout the room, like the constant push of a winter night's breeze against a frosty window pane.
"Fighting is forbidden."
At first, the goblins did not reply. They all stared at the table, some couldn't help but squirm in their seats. They clearly wanted the infern to just go away, but they lacked the fortitude to make any kind of stand against the half-demon.
"Fighting is forbidden," the lead infern repeated, making it clear it expected an explanation.
A goblin smart enough to realize that if no one spoke they would all be taken decided to attempt an excuse.
"Not fighting. Gambling." The goblin then pointed to the table. "Gambling allowed."
"Yes, gambling is allowed, but not when it leads to conflict. Swords were drawn when I entered. Instigators?"
The goblin that had refused to pay four coins decided to make a swift accusation. It pointed to the dark creature that had swiped two of his coins.
"Thief! Stole from my stack."
The indicted goblin first narrowed its stare upon its accuser. Its hand dropped to the handle of its sword, but one lightning fast swing of the infern's javelin toward its face made it rethink and regret its decision. The goblin's eyes went wide with fear, knowing the accusation would hold. It would be taken, but it would not be taken alone. It pointed right back at the accusing goblin.
"Cheat! Did not pay his loss. Cheat!"
The other goblins all nodded, as if emphasizing both accusations.
"Thief and cheat!" one said.
That was all the infern needed to hear. The half-demon understood the cause of the disturbance and quickly rendered a decision.
"Take them both," it issued the order to the other two inferns.
The two condemned goblins never had a chance to escape. The inferns moved toward them with speed and agility, like that of super heated air rising out over a frozen tundra. Black armored gauntlets knifed toward goblin throats. Thick fingers collapsed all the way around to the back of their necks causing their eyes to bulge in both fear and the inability to catch their breath.
The infern guards yanked the goblins from their seats with one arm, as if the creatures weighed less than a sack of dried leaves. As the inferns themselves were only slightly taller than the goblins, they could not pull the monsters completely clear of the tabletop. It didn't discourage them in any fashion. They simply dragged the dark creatures across the table, upending mugs and scattering coins across the floor.
The other goblins fought back the urge to leap on the ground scrounging for the dispersed money. For that, they would wait until the inferns left, but for the moment, they remained rigid in their seats, thankful they were being left alone.
The inferns did, in fact, leave the tavern with the two squirming goblins in tow. They moved to the door just as they had entered, with complete disregard for everyone else in the room.
One of the inferns holding a goblin, however, paused at the door. It never turned about, but Ryson felt almost as if the half-demon was staring right at him.
The delver prepared to leap down a narrow hall that led to a side entrance-he noticed it when he first entered the building-but the need never arose. He felt a great wave of relief when the infern returned to its indifference and disappeared through the front door.
Ryson allowed several moments to pass. He was not done in the tavern, as he wished to gain a different perspective of the event. He watched the crowd and chose his target carefully. He picked what looked to be a female merchant sitting alone at a small table for two. She appeared tired and not in the mood for small talk, but to others in the room, it would appear that Ryson simply decided to introduce himself anyway.
"Mind if I sit down?"
The woman looked up at him, didn't smile, but didn't tell him to move on, either. She simply shrugged and looked down at her stew.
"I wouldn't want to be those two," Ryson offered, referring to the goblins.
"Neither would I," the woman replied with a matter-of-fact tone that revealed she was not too impressed with the stranger's opening line.
"What do you think they'll do with them?"
"I don't like to think about it."
"I always wondered why they even come in here," Ryson pressed.
"They had to. They're not going to let the goblins fight."
"No, I meant the goblins, not the inferns. Why are the goblins here?"
The woman just shrugged again, as if it was simply the way things were. She continued to look down at her meal, but didn't seem to enthused about eating it. She just stirred it with her spoon.
"Seems like they're everywhere," the delver declared while trying to sound both frustrated and surprised at the same time.
For that, he got a nod. The woman was certainly not in a talkative mood.
"Do you have to deal with them a lot?" he asked.
"Everybody has to deal with them. Part of business."
With that, Ryson was certain the woman was a local merchant. He had already caught the scent of fresh goods still on her clothes. He could always pick out merchants that way, especially general store owners that dealt with a wide array of inventories.
"Yeah, but do they make good customers?" Ryson pressed.
Ryson finally stirred the woman's interest. He had found a topic she was more than willing to discuss with fervent opinion.
"They're terrible customers. They always argue. They don't bargain. They just argue. And even after you've agreed to a price, they start arguing again."
"Combative little creatures," the delver agreed.
"Combative, stubborn, and dishonest."
Ryson just kept feeding her frustrations.
"I bet that makes it hard to run a business, especially a store."
"It's almost impossible. At least the inferns keep them from stealing, I know they want to, but they don't dare."
"I guess that's something. If they could steal from you, you'd probably be out of business in a few days."
"I'm almost out of business anyway. The little cretins just find a way around it. They don't actually steal, but they always demand samples of everything, especially food. They take more than they should, eat half of it, then spit the rest on the floor. That way they don't have to pay for it."
"They are a conniving lot," Ryson agreed. "And you know they're doing it on purpose. They probably sampled the same stuff from a different store down the block."
&
nbsp; "Tell me about it. I've talked to merchants that have just given up and shuttered their stores."
"You thinking about doing the same?"
"And do what? Farm? Not me."
Ryson saw an opening to gain additional information on the outlying lands. Although he risked losing her attention with a subject she didn't appreciate, he decided to fish for at least sketchy details.
"It seems a lot of the farmers are leaving, too."
The woman actually offered more perspective than Ryson expected.
"Can't blame them. They're out there alone with those goblins, living next to them and no one to keep the peace. At least in the city we have the inferns to keep the goblins in line… at least somewhat. Out in the farms, they don't even have that. It's just the farmers and the goblins. I'd leave, too."
"So you're happy the inferns are here?"
The woman appeared surprised, and then insulted. At first, she wondered how he could even ask such a question, but then she thought he was judging her and she felt the need to defend herself.
"I'm not happy any of them are here… goblins, inferns, the whole lot. I wish they'd all go back to where they came from."
"But it seems like all the people accept the inferns as kind of the law here."
"We were told they were going to keep the peace."
"Told by whom?"
"The councils, the guard, the mayor… everyone in charge."
"And do they keep the peace?"
"Sort of."
"Can you be more specific?"
"You just saw it. They didn't let the goblins back there get out of control. The inferns are harsh and they don't care about anyone or anything, but they keep things from breaking down into chaos. And chaos is all the goblins really want. They don't do anything else. They don't work. They just drink, gamble, and fight. "
The woman paused again and took a good look at Ryson. She thought of what she said, and realized it was probably too much. Anyone who lived in Ashlan didn't need to ask whether the inferns kept the peace. They would know. The stranger across from her was not from Ashlan, and though travelers and merchants from other towns still entered the city, she believed just about everyone in the Great Valleys knew of the situation.