The sun was about to set on Balthazar’s pond, but unlike usual, there was no calm in the air. Instead, the murmuring of voices and the shuffling of multiple figures filled the bazaar as crates were pushed and tables moved around.

“Alright, that’s good. Put it there,” the crab said to the golem, who was carrying a large round table in his two massive hands.

“Tell your golem to be careful with it. That’s some fine wood. I don’t want to see it getting scratched,” said John, the carpenter, sitting in a chair by the corner, smoking his trusty pipe.

“You don’t need to tell me to tell him,” Balthazar said. “He may only say one word, but he understands most things just fine.”

“Friend,” Bouldy said, smiling at the crab as he gently placed the table at the very center of the deck.

“Boss, boss!” Druma called, running in through the front entrance. “Miss baker and her boyfriend are here!”

“Good, just on time, too,” the crab said. “And I told you, don’t refer to Rye as her boyfriend yet. The damn boy is too shy to ask her, and we shouldn’t pressure them.”

Just as he finished correcting the goblin, the two just-really-good-friends walked in through the gate.

Madeleine was wearing her usual baker outfit, nearly all white, some remnants of flour still left on her apron, hinting that she had likely left directly from her baking to there with no time to get a change of clothes. Her face, while still gentle, showed the clear signs of someone getting far too much work and too little rest, with slight circles forming under her green eyes, and her usual jovial smile taking a leave of absence, replaced by an expression of someone who dearly missed their bed.

Rye, following right behind her, looked nearly the same as always. Green and white clothes, with some pieces of light leather armor covering his torso, his hunting bow and quiver tightly fit against his back. His light facial hair still looked like it hadn’t grown any further in the weeks since he had started letting it grow, but Balthazar noticed the hair on his head was a fair bit longer, now tied back into a short ponytail. The crab frowned and, for whatever reason, found himself wishing he could snip it with his pincer.

“Balthazar!” the baker exclaimed, opening her arms before dropping them against the sides of her thighs. “Do you mind telling us what in the gods' names was so urgent you’d have us come down here this late? I have so much work to do back home. I can’t be running down here whenever you fancy another flavor of pie.”

“Don’t worry, Madeleine,” the cheerful crab said. “I know you’ve had to work very hard lately, and that is part of the reason I called you down here. But let’s wait for everyone to arrive before I explain. Did you bring what I requested, by the way?”

The girl raised an eyebrow at the crab, but replied without posing further questions. “Yes, it was a bit last minute, but we brought it.”

She turned to Rye, who stepped forward with a large carton box in his hands and placed it on the edge of the central table. “Right here, bud.”

“Hmm, my, that smells delicious,” the old carpenter said from his corner, taking the smoking pipe off his mouth and closing his eyes in delight as he took a sniff of the air.

The two recent arrivals turned their heads to him, noticing his presence for the first time.

“Right, guess you might not know each other,” Balthazar said. “This is John, the carpenter who helped us build this roof above our heads. John, this is Madeleine, the baker I told you about, and Rye, her, uh… basket carrier.”

They all nodded at each other before the craftsman spoke again. “Don’t bother asking me what’s this all about, because I also ain’t got a clue. I got called down here same as you, and since I had nothing better to do, I just figured I’d come check it out.”

Madeleine sighed and shrugged. “Well, I trust you’ll have a good reason to drag us all out here tonight, but since I’m already here, I might as well make the most of it…”

She smiled and stepped around the table, approaching the large red cushion where Blue rested.

The drake lifted her head and immediately welcomed the girl's touch as she started petting the back of her head, tail wagging gently against the floorboards.

“Heeeeey! Everyone here yet?” a happily inebriated voice asked.

Tristan stepped up onto the deck from the back, with Henrietta hopping behind him.

The drunkard was wearing a different, more ornate vest under his regular jacket, both still very worn out and missing a few buttons. His usual unkempt graying hair shoddily pulled back into some kind of slick mullet, face still unshaven, with light stubble covering his baggy cheeks. Despite his appearance, he looked happy and ready to celebrate something.

“Ah, damn, more introductions to make,” Balthazar grumbled.

But before he could say another word, the former merchant was already taking Madeleine’s hand into his and shaking it vigorously.

“I’m Tristan, Balthazar’s new associate. Delighted to meet you at last after hearing so much about you!”

“Hey! I never said—” the crab started, but before he could finish, the drunk had somehow already slipped around him and was now giving Rye a firm handshake.

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“You as well, dear boy. It’s great to finally put a face to the name!”

The young adventurer nodded and smiled awkwardly, taken aback by the sudden vigorous greeting.

Tristan then turned to the toad, who was still by the steps.

“Well, go on, don’t be shy, Henrietta! Say hello to them.”

“Hi, hello,” the toad said, in a timid voice, raising a foreleg.

“Oh, my gods!” Madeleine exclaimed in a high-pitched voice. “Did that toad just talk?”

“Y-yes?” Henrietta responded.

The baker rushed towards the toad and crouched down next to her. “I loved frogs and toads when I was a little girl! I always wished they could talk to me whenever I saw one.”

“Didn’t see you making such a big fuss the first time you saw me talking,” the crab muttered under his breath.

The toad quickly changed to a more relaxed demeanor and the two quickly engaged in conversation, completely ignoring everything else around them.

Balthazar, Tristan, and Rye exchanged glances and shrugged at one another before the crab spoke. “You guys mind helping pull up the chairs to the table?”

The group started grabbing chairs and moving them next to the round table while the two ladies continued happily chatting on the side, when suddenly Madeleine let out a scream that startled everyone in the bazaar.

The girl stood up, horror on her face, finger pointing to the entrance. “A… a skeleton!”

Everyone else turned their heads in unison to the front gate, except for the crab, who had to turn his whole shell, for lack of a proper head and neck.

There stood a skeleton with a sack over one shoulder and a walking stick with a lantern hanging from it over the other. He had a black wide brim hat on his skull, resembling what an undertaker might wear, and covering his skeletal figure he wore a dark brown jacket and trousers, both old and full of moth holes. His outfit almost made Tristan’s look like fine couture. Druma walked in next to him shortly after.

“Uhh… Hello?” Tom said, with a quick wave of his bony hand. “Your boy Druma here told me to come on in, buuut… I think I might have arrived at a bad time?”

“No, no, it’s fine! I was expecting you,” Balthazar hurriedly said, moving next to the skeleton. “Everyone, please, no need to worry. Tom here is a skeleton, but he’s not a threat. I know him.”

Madeleine finally lowered her arm, but continued to look at the traveling merchant with a look of distrust, while Rye slowly slid the arrow he had already reached for back into his quiver.

“What the hell, Balthazar?” Tom whispered, leaning down slightly. “This is way too many humans for my taste. I thought you’d know that.”

“Relax, they’re all people I trust, and I need them here—as well as you—for what I’m about to discuss.”

The skeleton gave the other merchant the side-eye socket but did not protest further.

“Alright!” Tristan exclaimed, his booming voice breaking the icy silence that had settled in the bazaar. “Is that everyone now? Can we start?”

“No, not everyone,” Balthazar said. “We’re still missing—”

The crab paused as three large figures appeared on the door frame behind Tom.

“The orcs,” Balthazar finished.

The chieftain, Khargolmazornyarmarz, stepped inside, his posture confident but his gaze looking around with suspicion.

Once again, the room froze, everyone staring at the imposing warrior.

Madeleine covered her mouth with a hand.

The toad gulped.

Rye’s hand hovered near his bow, unsure if he should draw it or not.

John remained seated in his chair, blowing circles of smoke from his pipe, appearing to find the entire scene very entertaining.

Tristan looked around at everyone else as if searching for any cues on how to react.

Tom finally broke the silence. “Khargol, my orc! How’s it going? Didn’t expect to find you here, too.”

The chieftain gave the skeleton an acknowledging nod. “Greetings. I, too, did not expect to encounter you here tonight. Or all these people, for that matter.” He turned his scowl to Balthazar. “Care to explain, crab?”

“Oh, relax, dour face,” said the crab. “Not every human attacks orcs on sight, as you can see.”

“It is not our safety you should be concerned about if they did,” the stern orc responded.

Balthazar turned and faced the group. “Everyone, let’s all take a seat at the table, get to know each other better, and I’ll explain everything. It will all make sense and you won’t regret it, I promise.”

Turning to Bouldy, the crab spoke in a lower voice. “Go stand watch by the road, make sure no one shows up unannounced, alright?”

The golem nodded and left through the front gate. Khargol turned to his two warrior-brothers that were still by the entrance and gave them a nod that was apparently enough of an instruction, as they stood guard by the door without saying a word.

Slowly and hesitantly, everyone started taking a seat around the table at the center of the bazaar. Balthazar climbed up to his stool, overseeing the table.

Madeleine, still keeping an eye on the skeleton, slid into the chair to the right of the crab, while Rye sat on the chair next to hers.

To Balthazar’s left, Tristan sat in his chair, nearly missing and falling to the floor at first.

In the space after him was a wooden stool, which Henrietta hopped onto.

Finally deciding to stand up, John grabbed the back of his chair and brought it next to Rye’s, taking a spot at the table as well.

Clearly feeling out of place, Tom sat on one of the chairs opposite of Balthazar, furthest from everyone else.

Still scowling at the group, Khargol decided to take the seat between Tom and the toad, the wooden chair creaking uncomfortably as the heavy orc sat on it.

“About damn time! Can we finally get to eating?” A muffled voice said from the darkest corner of the bazaar.

Everyone turned their attention to the source of the protest, where a verdant bush quietly sat, looking slightly out of place on the wooden floor.

“Did that shrub just talk?” asked Rye.

“Ah, right, I completely forgot about him,” said Balthazar, scratching the space between his eye stalks with the tip of a pincer. “That’s Rob. He’s my… let’s say ‘underworld connection’ in town. He’s more or less trustworthy, just maybe be mindful of the contents of your pockets before you leave here tonight. Come on, Rob, join us at the table. We’re ready to begin.”

The bush shuffled forward until it reached the open space between the skeleton and the carpenter, where it planted itself back down.

Khargol sniffed loudly as he crossed his arms. “I knew he was there the whole time.”

“Is he… going to stay hidden in that bush?” said Rye, looking at the shrub next to the table with a puzzled expression.

“Hmm, yes, Rob, you know you can come out of that now, right?” Balthazar said.

“I’d prefer to stay as I am, thanks,” the thief said from within his leafy disguise. “You have a lot of people here, most of them I don’t even know. I think it will be safer for me if they don’t know what I look like. It’s too risky. Better to stay anonymous.”

“We already know your name is Rob, genius,” said the carpenter sitting next to him.

“No, you don’t!” Rob quickly retorted. “What if I cleverly had Balthazar say that name to throw you all off? My name could be Bob instead!”

“In that case, why would you tell us that now and make everyone aware of the lie?” asked Henrietta from across the table.

“Alright, alright, enough of that!” the crab exclaimed. “This isn’t important right now. Let Bob Rob over there stay in his bush if he wants. What matters is that everyone is present.”

“Fine by me,” said Tom. “Can we just finally get to the explanation of what we’re all doing here?”

“Absolutely,” Balthazar said. “But before we begin, let’s get the first order of business out of the way. Pie!”