The returned stood at the entrance to the dining hall, and the patrons stared in interest, and the crew recognized Adria one by one. Dreadful silence washed the color out of the place. Confusion, too. U’lis’ confusion turned into surprise when she saw the Mask of Roguish Disguise in Adria’s hands. But revealing her true identity, along with the appearance of a ghost, gathered only a small part of the reaction. The danger of the King of Dark Alley’s attack kept everyone on edge. The sudden appearance of a band of bloody strangers made quite a few patrons flinch. Must’ve thought it was the worst-case scenario, that it had come, that now was their untimely death.

U’lis scurried up to La’Var and took the meat off his back. She slipped him a biscuit after the game was on her.

“You look malnourished.”

The hunter laughed. The paralyzing silence broke; U’lis made a double take at Adria and swayed back to her kitchen, yelling at a bunch of witless to follow after her. At the same time, Saint Goblin emerged from the back room corridors. One wrinkled green hand held the scroll of The Liar’s demands, whilst the other -- a cross. Inspecting the inn, she muttered then her gaze arose and eyes widened at the sight of the crippled party.

The head of the inn looked up and down at Adria. Her eyes caught the Mask of Roguish Disguise then stopped on the scarlet hair. No one could forget it.

Adria braced for her fate: deep breaths, closing her eyes

We got the meat to the inn in time. The Liar will be served and the bell will be fixed, she thought. Whatever happens to me doesn’t matter as long as these goblins are fine.

“La’Var, child, please go,” Saint Goblin said. “I see the hunt has taken an immense toll on you. You need rest and medicine, and prayer to thank the Twenty Gods for giving you the strength to endure what you did.”

La’Var nodded and limped away.

Adria looked down on Saint Goblin and goosebumps covered her skin. The head of the inn’s face had wrinkled into an expression of fury containing the entirety of the Twenty God’s vengeance for ages of blasphemy. Her eyes had become midnight black. Her hands curled into fists.

Adria hadn’t seen Saint Goblin like this since she arrived at the inn for the first time when the head had thrown half a dozen witless out for going on a hysterical frenzy in the kitchen.

“What is your real name?” Saint Goblin asked.

“Adria, but in my home, Black Ice Bastion, the goblins called me Hah’Dria.”

Saint Goblin raised her hand and pointed at the steel entrance.

“You should leave and never come back, Adria, but you are a special case. I cannot allow it.” The goblin’s hand retracted, and she gripped a cross. Something rippled in the air.

The steel doors of the inn slammed shut and the locks within clicked. Saint Goblin continued.

“According to the rules, any goblin who does not have a seed of sainthood in their hearts must leave and never come back. But the rules specify a different punishment for creatures trying to work the inn. You know it, right?”

Adria gulped.

“My heart and my soul, and my crosses tell me not to enact this punishment. When you arrived, I saw pureness in your eyes. You did good: following orders and helping others, even though clumsily. You even followed La’Var into a deathly hunt to save the inn,” Saint Goblin spoke. “During our prayers, I earned answers from the Twenty Gods and they showed me what a wonderful fate awaited. And they told me to take care of you, told me to guide you down the right road.”

These words sparked some hope inside Adria and she eagerly listened as the head of the inn continued.

“Yet the Twenty Gods told me the rules of the inn. Rules I had to follow and enforce ruthlessly or else the inn would see a painful demise. If it means sacrificing you for the good of all Sparkling Valley goblins, I will listen to the gods.”

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Saint Goblin pointed at Adria then at Martin lingering behind her.

“For working at the inn as a human and striking a pact with an unholy spirit, I curse you and sentence you to death. When your heart stops beating… and the last drops of life leave your blood, you will not see the sky and will not walk among the Twenty Gods. You may become a wandering spirit. You may be trapped in purgatory forever.”

Adria’s jaw dropped and she stumbled for the exit. Even though it was locked, she couldn’t stop her body from trying to run -- Saint Goblin’s words drove crippling chills into her bones. Then Saint Goblin began whispering curses and prayers, and words of farewell to the dead.

Adria reached the door and slammed into it with her back. It remained shut. She waved, trying to plead for forgiveness, but her tongue couldn’t muster a single word.

Only once the first curse struck Adria--tainting the world with darkness and flooding her mind with false memories of unspeakable tragedies--could she collect her thoughts and speak.

“I’m sorry! I made a pact with the ghost for the inn! I’m doing everything for the inn!” she cried and fell to her knees. “Yes, I came here for a peaceful life and I deceived you all, but this place is the best home I’ve ever had. You’re doing so much good to this world, taking in shunned goblins from all over the valley. And I want to help. And want the inn to flourish! I beg you… I beg you…” she choked up and wiped her eyes. “I beg, you let me live. One day. Until The Liar is served and the inn’s future is guaranteed!”

Saint Goblin shook her head, eyes darkening even more. She stepped back. She unsheathed a sword and raised it over her head. Adria moved out of the way as it slashed down.

The feeling of being a trapped animal came over her.

I could go up to the quarters and jump out of a window, she thought. But I’m too injured to outrun anyone if they chase me. And I’ll break my legs falling. It doesn’t matter--outside or inside the inn--but I’m going to surely die--

La’Var’s tunnels! The catacombs! I have a way out!

Adria skid to a halt and turned towards the backroom corridors of Saint Goblin’s Inn.

A group of witless stopped at the entrance to the back of the inn. Cursing, Adria spun around. Witless surrounded her from all sides. Of course, as a human, she could power through a bunch of goblins, even trained ones with spectacular weapons. But not through every witless in the inn. There were too many.

All staring her in the eyes, the little green ones stepped closer and closer.

The adrenaline bursting through her veins vanished in an instant. The dread of death, the worries of the inn’s future -- it all disappeared. Calm overcame her. Regret stung. She’d had countless opportunities to run away in the past, but used none of them, and here came her fate.

Whatever. It was too late now. The only thing she could do was give in to the alluring temptations of her sheathed bone dagger, which whispered that Adria could die on her own terms in a true northern manner. As she reached for the blade, the witless surrounding her turned around, away from her, and held hands, forming an unpassable barrier. First, Adria’s brows furrowed, then a hopeful smile crept up her face.

You’re… You’re not trapping me, are you? You’re protecting me from Saint Goblin!

From the back room corridors of Saint Goblin’s Inn, La’Var limped out, helped by U’lis and Ba’Gan. They shuffled through the mass of goblins and stood in front of Adria, facing Saint Goblin.

“Saint, I’m sure you’ve noticed that the orders of the Twenty Gods are completely contradictory,” La’Var said. “Many of the holy passages, scriptures, and even books are the same.”

Saint Goblin pointed down the sword. ‘What are you getting at,’ her expression asked.

“You’ve lived far longer than any of us. You’ve been with the inn through generations of goblins, seen the worst and the best of times, and got closer to the Twenty Gods than any of us,” La’Var continued. “But your endless wisdom has been blurred and tainted by the years -- you forgot that the Twenty Gods aren’t as simple as they seem.”

“My child… You dare doubt me after everything?”

“I am. And I’m telling the truth.” La’Var slammed his foot into the ground. “Adria is wonderful -- doesn’t matter if she’s human or goblin. Without her, the inn wouldn’t have been exorcized. Without her, the inn won’t carry on. Yet the Twenty Gods are telling you--at the same time--to save her and kill her. Why?”

“Because the Twenty Gods are testing you and the inn,” U’lis continued La’Var’s words softly. “They want to know if you are wise and if you’ll choose the correct wisdom. Will you unlawfully take another life? Is the inn truly a place of pure good and does it deserve to prosper?”

“Let Adria live. Banish her if you must,” La’Var finished.

The inn silenced. For an eternity, Adria stared into the blank black eyes of Saint Goblin.

Then the head of the inn sheathed the sword. She grabbed the twenty crosses and kneeled, and prayed. Adria closed her eyes. Her head was empty. She simply hoped that Saint Goblin wouldn’t cast a deathly curse.

When Adria opened her eyes, the world was brighter. Some pain had vanished and she felt lighter, like… the curse had been lifted. And like she had been spared.