They all saw it.

Adria, Ba’Gan, Saint Goblin, U’lis and even La’Var, who had clambered out of the pit in the dining hall, stood opposite of the ashen steel bell, smoke and bright tendrils of magic oozing out of it. Through the arched windows of the tower, sunrays gleamed upon the bell, which left a vast shadow with a bright crack on the wall opposite.

Endless questions and worries in mind, Adria turned to the goblins on both sides of her. The dead eyes and gray faces of La’Var and U’lis answered her before she could even ask.

The fate of Saint Goblin’s Inn was in danger.

Adria, apart from the true dreadfulness of the situation, wondered how could a thing like this happen, who would do this and if there was a way to fix it. As the bell tower’s scent of rot and warmth filled Adria’s head with visions of the inn returning to decrepit decay, once more becoming a part of history, Saint Goblin finished muttering a prayer and running her hand across the bell and turned to the crew of goblins.

Among them had appeared the kitchen witless, who discovered the crack of the bell in the first place. The little green one stared with wide eyes. Gloved hands held its white hat up to its chest.

Why would a witless need gloves? Adria wondered. Then, Saint Goblin spoke.

“My dear children, blind the windows.”

After everyone looked at each other in confusion, Adria took off the sweater she wore over her maid’s dress and hung it above a window. The other goblins followed. Soon enough, the pinnacle of the bell tower was engulfed in darkness.

“Grab the hands of your fellow green brethren and kneel,” the head of the inn continued, lighting a single candle and placing it on the ground by the bell. “It is a tragic, terrible time. We are stuck between evil and the unknown. And, I believe, we can only get out of here with the power of faith. We shall pray. For strength. For answers.”

Adria held U’lis in her left and La’Var in her right, and they crouched, keeping their gazes on the ground.

“Follow after me,” Saint Goblin started. “Twenty gods! Twenty gods! Twenty gods! I shall not name you as names cannot show the truth of your glory. I shall do, and I have gracefully lived doing, all that I can to obey your rules, obey your orders, spread your name.”

“Twenty gods! Twenty gods! Twenty gods!” the crowd shouted in unison.

“Yet now, fate has gone against me and brought me the greatest tests of my faith. These challenges have brought me to my knees, dunked my head in the sand and tied me with heavy chains,” Saint Goblin continued. “I request your guidance through these unknown paths. I wish for your strength in these troublesome battles. I pray for your light to clear the darkness.”

The weight of worry vanished from the air and every doubt in Adria’s head floated away. Like the things plaguing her were dust that needed a gust of wind to disappear into the ether. At the same time, warm rain trickled down on Adria’s skin. An invisible rain. A smile curled up on U’lis face while Ba’Gan couldn’t stay put, disgusted at the sensations.

“If you grant me what I request, I will accept it with open arms. Even if the tides of fate do not change and the darkness remains. I swear that my faith will be more devout than the unconditional love I already show you!”

The feeling on Adria’s skin grew more powerful. For a split second, the lanterns flickered. The books on the shelves quaked.

This feeling… It’s like sorcery… No, it is sorcery, but immensely powerful! she realized. Being around The Liar feels similar. Though he releases far less power!

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“Twenty gods! Twenty gods! Twenty gods! If you’re still listening, I request one more thing. Even though I’ve burdened you enough with my puny needs, I wish that you show your faces! I wish to see my heroes and my gods! And if you do arrive on my plane, I will be sure to look into your crystal eyes and kiss your golden lips!”

The sole candle went out. Silence reigned over the bell tower before the floors started moving and the wind whooshed.

A bright light flicked into existence in front of Saint Goblin. In the light, the shape of a head formed. Hair sprung out. A face appeared. It overwhelmed Adria with its beauty, and flooded her with warmth, almost bringing her to the verge of tears. And somehow its existence couldn’t be comprehended by her mind. Even though she saw it clearly, she couldn’t describe a single detail. The second she looked away or blinked the face vanished from memory, only to bedazzle her once she looked at it again.

The longer she looked, the harder it became to look away… To control herself…

This face is like the Liar’s, a thought crossed her head.

Adria’s hair stood up and the disgusting memories of Black Ice Bastion flashed, and she snapped out of it.

As she looked around the bell tower, her jaw dropped.

Bowing, the crowd of goblins gasped and screamed. Saint Goblin kissed the glowing face. Light danced and flickered, and strobed. The head of the inn grabbed the floating head of brightness and brought it into a waltz. The goblins scuttled back, clearing the floor. They moved in unison. Their eyes didn’t blink once. The shouts of worship grew louder and the dance heated up: Saint Goblin’s hundred-year-old body moved with the speed of a newborn witless.

The waltz finished on the floor with Saint Goblin bringing the head to the ground and leaning in for a deep kiss.

The head vanished.

“What in the name of the Twenty Gods did I just see?” Adria whispered.

The goblins around her blinked and shook their heads and looked at one another with furrowed brows.

“I’m a hunter, not a wizard — I have no clue,” La’Var said. “I’d see a lion in a forest, I’d draw my bow. I’d see this — I’d change my name, and run as far away from Sparkling Valley as possible.”

The flames of the single candle returned. Saint Goblin took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from her forehead, then rubbing her lips. She turned to the crowd of dumbfounded goblins.

“As Dermoeis said in the scriptures of the First Age, to those who do not believe, the gods will show proof a plenty of the power of divinity,” Saint Goblin said. “My children, this was the waltz of good and evil. Once you pray to the gods, you speak to them and you get their strength, but to get answers, you must listen and you must show your love to them.”

“And did you learn how to save the inn?” Adria asked.

Saint Goblin grinned. Then, she wavered. She stumbled. Goblins gasped and a few witless ran up to the head of the inn. She pushed them away and sat on the floor, cross-legged.

“Do not worry about me. I am fine. Just that the waltz of good and evil requires plenty of divinity and physical strength. I do not lack in the former, but I have grown weak over the century,” Saint Goblin said. “Nevertheless, I saw the future. It is… not nearly as pretty as the face of a god.”

The head of the inn turned to Adria and stared deeply. Adria pointed at herself and returned the look. Why are you looking at me?! she thought. Did the twenty gods… Show you my secret? Show you what lies in my future?

Saint Goblin looked away and continued.

“Despite all of the hardships, the end that awaits us is no worse than heaven. But we must make a hard decision, accept a challenge like no other before and break some principles that have kept the inn running over the years. We must… I am afraid, my children, we must serve The Liar of the Abyss.”

The jaws of the goblins dropped. Even the witless looked nervous. Adria’s head spun.

Her first instinct was to run, but she fought against it, thinking, This is the first home I’ve ever had. I don’t think I’ll survive without the inn and I don’t think the inn will survive without me. I have to stay. I have to save this place.

Even if it isn’t going to be calm and peaceful, it’s the only way I’ll ever see those things.

“I know what you must be thinking and I understand how difficult it may be to hear my words,” Saint Goblin said. “Despite my divinity, I cannot bring the bell back to its former state. Yet there are powerful sorcerers in the lands, people who have the abilities to save our wonderful tavern. These men require coin. Immense mounds of coin that the inn does not have, but the Liar of the Abyss does…”

Saint Goblin sighed. The prospect of spending the tavern’s entire treasure, like to any other goblin, hurt the head of the inn more than the thought of the Liar’s arrival.