Abigail had decided that following Ratface’s announcement, it was time the little girl learned how to skin an alligator.

“I’m not a little girl,” said Ratface. She still watched the skinning process though. You never knew when you’d need to be able to skin an alligator.

“If your age is more than thirteen then I’ll happily retract that statement,” said Abigail. Following Ratface’s silence she went back to skinning. She was using Ratface’s knife to do it. A few quick cuts at the head, limbs and butthole. Ratface frowned at that, she’d have to wash the knife.

Abigail made another cut then peeled the skin off. She struggled a bit at the tail but eventually she got it out. When she was done, she rolled it up, tied it, then passed it to Ratface. Ratface looked at her package then back at Abigail.

“Am I supposed to carry this?” She demanded.

“There’s a waystation about another days walk from here. Surely you can make it that far.” Said Abigail.

She butchered the rest of the alligator. Ratface had no frame of reference for whether the skin or the meat was butchered well but she could confirm it was messy. Abigail put the meat in Ratface’s bag and the little goblin sagged under the weight. She was essentially carrying a whole alligator.

She chucked the skin over her shoulder and got marching. Well, it was really more of a trudging under the weight of all of this.

The trudge was long. She gave up on looking forward on her destination quickly and settled for watching her feet so as to not fall over. She really hoped there weren’t any more of those city gators because she was not watching for ambushes at all.

“Can I assume you don’t have a passport?” Abigail asked. Ratface took a while to answer. Attempting to gain enough breath to do so.

“I don’t know what that is,” she said. She immediately focused back on breathing. Sucking in as much air as she could. This was for punishment for her answer about how she got here wasn’t it? She still didn’t know why it wasn’t a good one.

“Is it so hard to walk here for Lurian?” She asked. Immediately regretting talking instead of breathing.

“The nearest waystation is about a walk away. The next village is a week. Lurian is over a month.”

“Ah. I did not walk that far,” Ratface said.

Abigail snorted and kept walking. Ratface grunted. She felt like she was walking that far right now. She was too hungry for this.

A part of her was proud. She’d successfully killed the alligator and now she had all its parts. She was set for food for at least a week if this lady abandoned her. Probably more.

That part however was suffocated by most of her body lodging complaints. Was she really unfit? Wait.

“When you say another day. Do you mean we’ll get there tonight or tomorrow night?” she asked.

“Tomorrow night,” Abigail responded.

Ratface groaned.

It was dark by the time they stopped. Abigail stopped much later than when Ratface had been following her. In hindsight, she had probably stopped so early so Ratface could catch up on her injured leg.

Ratface shrugged her burdens down and collapsed onto the floor. She only moved when Abigail shoved more stew towards her which she raised her mouth to shovel the food into it. Halmar the Sly tried to live up to his name and sneak her food but she growled at him. He went to greener pastures in the form of Abigail. She handed him some bread and cheese she produced out of somewhere.

“How are you carrying so much?” Ratface asked.

“Dimensional storage in the bag.”

“If you have that, why am I carrying the lizard?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Abigail grinned.

“It builds character.”

Ratface grumbled. Why she didn’t get a choice in building her character was anyone’s guess.

“So, I’ve been thinking about your predicament,” said Abigail.

“Must be nice to have the energy,” said Ratface into her stew. Abigail snorted but kept going.

“Way, I see it. Lurian is going to take a while to get to. I wonder if its better to send for a carriage to take you.”

“I don’t know where you’d be sending it. My village is gone.”

“Monsters?”

“Other goblins.”

Abigail sat up at that. Her eyes suddenly alert.

“Goblins don’t attack each other.”

“I mean.” Ratface gestured at herself. “Clearly they do.”

“What were the goblins that attacked you like?” Abigail asked.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to think about. Like literally hard. I’m getting a headache.” Ratface gestured for the water jug which Abigail passed over. She took a deep drink, but it didn’t help.

“Glamour,” Abigail whispered. She looked around quickly, like someone would suddenly appear.

“Okay new plan. We aren’t taking you to Lurian. That seems like a bad idea. Instead, I’m going to take you to an expert.”

Ratface waved at her but was more preoccupied with her headache. She wasn’t stupid. The mention of glamour follow by sudden suspicion was probably not a good sign for her overall future health. She couldn’t really do anything about that right at this moment though. She delegated it to future Ratface to deal with and promptly fell asleep.

Somehow her muscles hurt more the next day. She groaned all through breakfast and would have done the same during the walk if she had the breath.

Abigail set a harsher pace and was even more diligent in her searching of the perimeter. Ratface heard more than one city gator meet its end when it made the mistake of getting too close to them. At least she didn’t make Ratface carry them.

It was late afternoon when they spied the waystation in the distance. Ratface hadn’t really had a point of reference for what that was, so she was interested to see it.

It was a nice secure little home. It was made from stone with basic window and gave off the feeling of somewhere made to weather the elements and monsters rather than give off a homey vibe. It even had a ditch and a wall.

Next to the building was a stable. Ratface recognised it from just outside Pinewood. This one however had a few carriages next to it along with the horses.

Abigail slowed to a stop while they were still far enough away they wouldn’t be seen. She eyed Ratface, then dug into her bag. Eventually she pulled out a mask.

“I wont force you to wear this,” said Abigail. Ratface snorted, like she could force her to wear anything. She looked at Abigail who towered over her almost like the golem. She reassessed. This woman could definitely make her wear the mask.

“I wont lie to you though. It’ll make our life easier if no one knows you’re a goblin.” Abigail finished.

Ratface feigned mock surprise.

“Do you mean to tell me that not everyone takes care of goblins?” she asked. She grabbed the mask and inspected it. It was blank but maybe she could find some paints to pretty it up later.

“Don’t be sassy. I’ve got some gloves for you too. Let me do the talking.”

Ratface made a sealing gesture over her lips then put the mask and gloves on. The two of them walked towards the waystation.

When they got closer Ratface was able to make out more details and her skin crawled. There were people sitting outside drinking around a table. They had bows and sword and all manner of weapons.

They could have been mistaken for hunters if it wasn’t for their god-awful colours. Adventurers came in two flavours from what Ratface had seen. The first were like Abigail. Their gear was well kept, and they reeked of danger. They looked like they should be fighting golems.

The rest looked like they’d gotten into a fight with a dye shop. Their colours clashed and were always so bright as to almost be painful to the eyes. Ratface was convinced that rogues were only stealthy because the rest of adventurers were so eye catching.

It didn’t make them any less dangerous though. Ratface had seen these people cut down all sorts of creatures. She made sure the mask was on her face securely before walking closer.

One with a bow and an orange vest topped with a bright green hat greeted Abigail. They were a little stiff about it.

“Granny Greatsword. We didn’t expect to see you here,” he said.

“They used to just call me Ms Greatsword,” Abigail grumbled quietly. She called back to the adventurers, “I heard there was a golem on the fritz, and I thought I’d give it a look.”

Green hats companions groaned and he himself smiled ruefully.

“Can I assume then that the golem is dealt with,” he asked.

“No need to assume Fletcher. I can guarantee it.”

“Your name is Fletcher? Isn’t that a little on the nose?” someone asked. Ratface was horrified to realise it was her.

“Yes to both little one. What might your name be?”

“Ratface,” she said. They grinned at that, but she stood there proudly.

“The adventurer name she chose,” Abigail explained. She gave Ratface a look to shut up and stepped in front of her. Abigail waited until their eyes were back on her before continuing. “Pinewood will still have need of adventurers. They’ve already got city gators coming in and you know that’ll attract bigger creatures.”

“There is that,” Fletcher conceded. He seemed appeased and laughed. “Still. I will leave making everyone else here aware of it to you. You know how golems grow a crowd.”

Abigail waved him off then made her way towards the door. Ratface followed behind but she could feel the adventurers’ eyes on her still. Abigail steered her next to her then pushed open the door.

Ratface followed her in and tried not to think about the face that this place was apparently crawling with adventurers.