After the visit of the patron from Black Ice Bastion, Saint Goblin’s Inn closed for the rest of the day. A crushing silence came over the tavern. The crew did what they had to without saying a single word or looking at one another. No one acknowledged the hound attack. Adria made herself forget about it.

The crew of witless green ones scurried around the dining hall, flipping tables upright and cleaning up the mess of mead and meat. U’lis and her band of witless divorced the countertop items—dishes and flour—from the floor of the kitchen. La’Var napped, exhausted from the spell that knocked out the hounds. Saint Goblin stood at the entrance. Her scaly hands rubbed a cross whilst prayers left her lips. She was sealing the inn’s barrier.

The barrier was a strange invention of sorcery and divinity, whose true nature was only understood by the head of the inn. Adria, during her week at this establishment of goblins, had learned only that the barrier removed the tavern from the reality of anyone who hadn’t uttered the passage words.

Adria tended the inn's entrance. She swept the dust and fixed up the signs above the steel doors. Soon enough, she was drenched in sweat and dust.

There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. The evening sun beamed straight at her. The graves surrounding Saint Goblin’s Inn, the grass, the crooked roofs of Gothsin and the town’s streets sparkled as if everything in the valley was made of gold.

Adria couldn’t take it anymore and took off her maid dress, leaving on only a shirt and a pair of brown pants. She dropped the dress. It landed beside a large paw print . Quickly, she wiped the print away.

“Oh Saint, bring upon me thy mead and thy roast, for I am a traveler lost!”

Adria looked over her shoulders. A trio of adventurers had reached the end of Worship street and were trying to pass the barrier. They repeated the passage words a few more times. The leader of the group stepped forth then shook his head. Disappointed, the adventurers turned away.

"Must be closed..."

Adria dropped the broom and bucket and sat on the dress, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

Finished, finally. The work here was excruciating, but it didn’t kill her soul like the atrocities that took place in Black Ice Bastion.

The steel doors parted and a witless ran up to Adria, handing her a note.

Find all the missing pints and mugs.

Groaning, Adria got up. After bringing the broom and bucket to the storeroom that housed them, she started thinking like the Black Ice goons who were hunting her. She looked where no one would. She got into the minds of the glassware transferring liquid joy from the darkness of barrels to the lips of customers. And she found dozens. Then, she dropped to her knees and crawled around the dining hall, collecting the rest.

“Wonderful work, dear,” Saint Goblin said. “Now bring them to the kitchen and clean them all!”

Before Adria could respond, the head of the inn turned away and returned to praying to keep the barrier shut. The barrier did so itself at night, yet for it to be closed in the day required Saint Goblin’s utmost effort. Adria sighed.

In the back of the kitchen, stood barrels full of water. She dumped her findings, found soap and began cleaning.

Around her, witless goblins did the same, but with stunning speed.

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I’m already tired, but you guys can do this fast and all day long? Oh Twenty Gods, how? How?!

Adria’s hands began aching and throbbing from the washing.

Eventually, the witless got exhausted. Some passed out on the spot whilst others dropped what they were doing and limped out of the kitchen. U’lis finished the cleaning-up and left with all the still-standing witless. Adria was alone in the kitchen, taking care of the final pints and mugs. Tiredness came over her as well. All thoughts left her. She was an empty shell, completing the work automatically. Then, in the dining hall, a witless wailed.

Like they did when the patron from Black Ice Bastion arrived.

Adria’s heart exploded out of her chest. The pint her hands held shattered. Instead of the shards falling, they hovered. They moved. They shaped a glass knife, slicing her palm in the process.

Adria’s lungs were empty, yet her head was exploding with thoughts. She breathed as deeply as she could but couldn’t get any air. And no matter what she tried; she couldn’t clear her head.

I dealt with those hounds and there’s no way they’re back! I’m safe, I’m fine! Adria told herself. What spell even is this? Why didn’t I pay attention when he taught me?! Why am I such a coward and can’t even…

No, don’t think about it.

Pretend it never happened!

The ground and the tables quaked, and pots and pans crashed into another and fell. Candle flames turned into fiery infernos then turned into wisps of smoke. Lastly, the knife in Adria’s hand fell into the water.

The splash brought her back to reality. Everything calmed.

Adria had lived through terrifying moments like this on the regular in Black Ice Bastion, even more so when she made her escape from the north and its villainy. Still, none of it made these encounters easier to bear.

Especially when she could accidentally trigger spells she was clueless about.

No more vagabonds and vigilantes, no more lynchings and cold winters, I thought, Adria berated herself whilst tying a bandage around her palm. I’ll be a maid and live among goblins… Is that even possible? Is every corner of the world infested by the evils of the north? Or did I just not run far enough?

Adria finished patching herself up. She put what she’d washed into the kitchen’s cabinets and headed out into the dining hall.

Saint Goblin appeared in front of her. Adria bumped into the head of the inn, stumbled, stuttered and began apologizing.

“Child, you have the eyes of a blind man in a dark chamber,” Saint Goblin said.

Apologizing again, Adria closed her eyes, rubbed her forehead. The time had come. She had made one mistake too many and the head of the inn would kick her out. Alright, I know, I know. I’ll move on elsewhere, find a normal life.

Then, Saint Goblin grinned.

“But you are pure. You are good to the depths of your soul,” she began.

Adria stuttered, shaking her head at the words. No, no, not to the depths of my soul. I have some… bad things in my blood. Things you cannot know, else you would banish me or worse.

Saint Goblin continued,

“The saints of the First Age were strict, yet fair and good to those who deserved it. Hah’Dria, I have lived for hundreds of years abiding by those principles. The inn is alive solely because those principles have never been broken. And because I have a keen eye for the best goblins of the valley… And because I will never refuse a fat pouch of coins.” Saint Goblin shook the Black Ice Bastion patron’s coins, which she had tied around her waist. She grinned, then, revealing a set of crooked teeth. “Nevertheless, you are a goblin who makes the saints smile. Yes, you have plenty to learn, but no mistakes will banish you from my inn. Really, I thank you for what you did.”

Saint Goblin put a hand on Adria’s shoulder. Adria’s arms regained their sturdiness and pain faded and she felt relief.

Maybe she would stick around with these goblins. Maybe she would finally have a normal life here. Even though she’d been here for a week, she grew to love the bustle of the inn and wished that, maybe, one day, she could be the next head.

“I see you’re feeling better,” Saint Goblin said. Adria nodded. “Very well, Hah’Dria. Rearrange all the tables and all the chairs, then. The witless got them upright, but couldn’t get them in line…”

Adria’s eyes widened.

“But I’m already--”

“Well, I can see you’re about to finish, child.”

“Can’t you instruct the witless better and make them arrange the tables?”

Saint Goblin pointed behind Adria and Adria spun on her heel, facing half a dozen goblins passed out all over the floor, under the tables and the chairs. The poor little green ones exhausted themselves running around all day, fixing mess after mess.

“Either wake them up and make them do it or do it yourself. Before we open in the morning, the tables must be aligned.” Saint Goblin walked off, juggling the Black Ice Bastion patron’s payment.

I’ll do it. Adria sighed. Poor green ones are already tired as is. Better to let them sleep.