Covered by what looked like a large piece of cloth made to be used as a tent or some other kind of a cover, the door of the castle was large enough to fit a medium-sized wagon through and the swarm of small green critters had no issues pouring inside.
The mood inside the castle was wholly different from the outside and a strange feeling of pressure immediately unsettled the men – it was as if they were under scrutiny of something far mightier than mere mortals, and as far as they knew, that might have been the case.
Two small bonfires on both sides of the entrance barely lit half of the circular room, just enough that they could see the stone floor and the thick wooden pillars holding up the roof of the castle. Aside from them, the only source of light was the opening at the apex of the ceiling, that let out the smoke and let in a column of light that illuminated a pool of water in the middle of the hall.
The entire structure was strangely well constructed considering what appeared to be astoundingly inept group of residents. The floor was smooth enough to comfortably walk on, the pillars were straight and appeared sturdy, the walls seemed to stay up on their own and the ceiling was no doubt weatherproof enough.
Being the only thing in the dark room that caught the eye, the pool got the men’s attention. Roughly three meters in diameter and around waist-deep, it was filled with clear, fresh-looking water that glimmered in the sunlight leaking in from the hole directly above it. Its sides were lined with stones and moss, making it appear like a small pond from a middle of a forest, but the smoothness of the bottom revealed that it was intentionally built, as did a strange copper cylinder attached to its bottom and side. Reaching just barely to the surface, the top of the cylinder housed an odd piece of crystal with a note attached to it, saying: Heater. Do not take!
“This is a… bath?” Rupert suggested and wondered if he could wash his wounded hand in the clean water. He kneeled next to it and could immediately tell that the water was warmer than it was supposed to be, not enough to steam during the warm morning, but definitely heated by the cylinder.
Since neither the goblins nor the ‘simulacrumb’ had moved in to stop him, he reached for the surface, but as soon as his fingertips touched it, Rupert noticed a wet spot on the opposite edge of the pool. As his eyes slowly got used to the dim lighting, he started to make out a trail of water leading from the other side of the pool to a large mound at the far side of the hall.
“Rupert… Back away, slowly…” Charles whispered as both of them noticed the silhouette of a pair of decorated antlers on top of the mound.
The figure, whose head they appeared to sprout from, remained mostly obscured by shadows, but it was definitely something humanoid and far too large to be a goblin. It lazily rested against the armrest of what appeared to be a throne and silently stared at its guests.
“What the fuck is that?” Rupert asked in an extremely hushed tone after backing up next to his friend.
The merchant kneeled and addressed the goblin tied to his leg. “Is that your queen up there?” He inquired and received a nod as a response.
For some reason, the swarm around them had fallen completely quiet, which was very surprising to Charles. He took it as a sign of respect for their leader and figured that if the queen commanded such a response from the critters that had done nothing besides make pointless noise for as long as he had been with them, she would no doubt accept nothing but the grandest of greetings before even bothering to address her guests.
He cleared his throat and stepped out of the small crowd. “Oh, queen of goblins, maiden of wealds, the esteemed beauty of these lands! Your unrivaled elegance is the talk of a hundred nations and your might the nightmare of a hundred more! Whether it is through the whims of the gods, or some other fate, our humble existence has finally been blessed by your graceful presence, as your exceedingly helpful subjects guided us to it.” He spoke and kneeled, lowering his head as much as possible to wait for an answer.
After ten quiet seconds, he slowly and carefully glanced up to see if his smooth words had any effect on the queen. However, they appeared to fall on deaf ears, and the queen remained in her relaxed pose, without so much as a wave to show she was even a slightest bit interested to hear what the men had brought.
Beginning to get a tad unsure of his approach, Charles tried his best to appear elegant and calm. “But… but we have not introduced ourselves to your highness! I would be the one called Charles Lauferspy, third of my name and heir to my family’s humble mercantile empire. My business partner and lifelong friend, Rupert, volunteered to join this venture, as he was eager to witness the grandeur of the goblinkind under your refined watch.” He said with a tone very carefully chosen between dignified and submissive, as he still owned the lands they were on, but absolutely wanted to avoid immediately stepping on the queen’s toes. “Would it be completely boorish of me to ask that you would agree to discuss the matter we’ve brought in a slightly more… even playingfield?”
The queen of goblins remained mostly still and showed no intent to respond, it almost felt like she was intentionally bullying her guests by making them grovel before her, just to get her attention. Charles quickly begun worrying if the queen he tried to impress was some kind of a tyrant, rather than a merciful protector of her people.
More and more goblins had flocked to the castle’s entrance, now curiously following the merchant’s attempts to speak to their ruler. Unfortunately, they did that by completely blocking the only exit from the castle and leaving the helpless visitors to her mercy.
Usually, his butter coated words had some sort of an effect on anyone, whether it was the intended one or that of annoyance. Charles had never met anyone so callous, which made his dreams of somewhat mutually beneficial agreement over the ownership of the land crumble at an accelerating pace. Truly, the queen of goblins was something entirely different than the dull suppliers and sneaky but ultimately predictable competitors he usually dealt with – truly, she was something far more royal.
Forced to further his technique, the merchant kneeled and told his business partner to do the same, at least partially over the increasing desperation and worry over the queen simply getting bored and having her visitors killed in some horrifying way, as there was no way of telling what these folk of the wild would do.
“You must understand, fair queen, that we are here unarmed and with the purest of intentions! So we plead that you would at least hear out what we have to say, for it is of utmost importance to the inhabitants of your land. Please, consider granting us your attention for just a moment!” He pleaded, figuring that the horned queen had never been spoken to in any other manner than an entirely submissive one, so he would have to grovel against his will for a while – later on, the positions would be shifted, of course.
As the men beseeched the attention, the queen’s housecarl slowly made its way in the shadows past the pool, with completely inaudible steps that went almost unnoticed by everyone until it had already reached the throne. As the machine let out a sudden hum, the queen flinched and kicked down a helmet that had been used to hold fruits. It bounced down the steps leading down from the mound, spreading apples and grapes until stopping its journey a couple of meters away from the pool and letting the room fall back into the awkward silence it had been in after the merchant’s latest plea.
“Wha?” Said a disoriented and groggy voice of a young woman, quietly but just loud enough for it to reach the visitor’s ears. “Oh! It’s just you, Leggy. Where were you earlier? I had to take a bath alone and listen to Gobby sing the whole time, it was both lonely and scarring. Well, whatever, since you woke me up, we should-“ The queen continued and was about to get up from her throne, but seeing the two men who had intruded her castle, she stopped and swiftly hid behind her housecarl.
The faint sounds of hurried dressing filled the awkwardly silent room; rattling of belt buckles and other accessories, muffled cursing and the antlers whacking against everything that happened to be near the queen all made it pretty clear what the issue was.
In a more refined setting, if such a scandal were to happen, the courteous thing to do was to completely deny it and never mention it again, however, the queen of the goblins obviously had no such civilized burdens.
Still hidden by the shadows almost entirely, the horned queen sat back down on her throne, upright this time, and cleared her throat. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!” She yelled in a not particularly commanding or powerful way, but with every word, both Charles and Rupert could feel their muscles tense uncontrollably, leaving them far too terrified to answer.
“Here I thought that I could have the luxury of being allowed enough privacy to have a nap in a towel after a bath in my own castle. Well apparently not! GOOD TO KNOW, I GUESS!” The queen rambled and slammed her fist on the throne’s armrest. “Gobby! What did I miss?”
The supposedly wise and aged goblin hopped forth and addressed its queen. “Fat man of many words, say much, mean little. Thin man mostly bleed.” It analyzed the monologue so far, showing some unexpectedly impressive ability to see through the merchant’s hollow praises. “Says come here with talks.”
“I see…” The queen sighed, sounding already tired of the conversation. “First things first though, can someone go and get a bucket of water for the Thin man, I’d rather not have blood on my floor again.” She commanded her subjects while yawning.
Five of the more mentally present goblins separated themselves from the horde and ran off to do as they were asked, happily screeching their preferred goblin songs along the way.
“I can only thank you for showing us such kindness and mercy, Your Highness.” Charles said and lowered his head. “Though we so rudely interrupted your rest, it is truly a sign of your infinite wisdom and righteousness that you would still take pity on my business partner!”
As the merchant groveled, three of the goblins returned with a bucket mostly filled with what at least looked like clean water – what had happened to the other two of their group remained a mystery.
“Wash your wounds with that and wrap it in your shirt or something. With any luck, I’ll let you hang around until a guest of mine comes by – she’s a priestess of Sylvia and should be able to do something about it.” The queen of the goblins said absentmindedly and was clearly paying more attention to the machine next to her than to the visitors.
The young merchant was surprised to hear the goddess of joy’s name. “Sylvia you say? The fate is truly in our favor this day! As it happens, there is a small chapel devoted to her in our home city. We’ll be sure to make a hefty donation to her cause once we return.”
“Is that the one with the painting, you know, the painting.” Rupert whispered and rubbed the blood off his hand in the bucket given to him.
“Yes… with any luck, the devotee there will be really thankful for the donation.” Charles winked and pretended to help his friend while they spoke.
The chapel of Sylvia in the city of Stoneharbor had been set up only some months ago, but its existence had become a matter that divided the city in two. Both the ruling families and the more established religious houses frowned upon the loose morals and lax manner of worship the chapel promoted, considering it little more than a whorehouse. Yet, at the same time, the people of the city, particularly the less fortunate types, supported the deity’s presence vehemently. It was known to them as a warm place of rest and comfort and quickly became popular due to the lack of rigorous methods of worship the larger temples required from their visitors. The devotee maintaining the shrine was often said to be an easygoing rogue even by the people who supported her, but no one doubted the honesty of her teachings of acceptance and helping one another.
The centerpiece of the chapel was a rather revealing mural representing the goddess herself, combined with the promiscuous nature of its caretaker, there was a more earthly reason the chapel gained much of its popularity, the same reason why Charles and Rupert even knew about it.
“So, what is it that you think is worth bothering me with.” The queen suddenly interrupted the whispering fools.
Charles stood back up and fixed his attire while searching for the words he needed, while thinking, he figured that the position they were in could use some improving. The queen had proven to at least be sensible and perhaps, to a degree, merciful, so there may have been a way to slightly rebalance the situation.
So far, the ruler had been little more than an ominous silhouette on her throne while the men had to stand in full view, surrounded by critters eager to do their queen’s bidding.
“Yes! Well, I do hope I don’t come across as rude or impudent, but where I come from, it is customary to meet your guests face to face and in considerably less shade.” The merchant attempted to convince the queen off her throne. Even in the shadows, it was easy to tell that the queen was not much taller than a child, and when negotiating, the person standing taller usually had the upper hand simply through the authority their appearance gave them.
“Customary, huh? Very well, I will grant you that much – if our customs are honored as well.” The queen responded with a quiet chuckle.
“O… of course! Forgive my ignorance, but what might these customs entail?” Worried the merchant.
The goblin queen paused for a while and appeared to inspect the men at her mercy. “Well, for starters, your attire is wholly unsuitable for our court. I try my best to be merciful when it comes to people visiting me for the first time, but repeating your mistake would earn you a full day in the frog pit. So, let's start with that.” She decided.
Charles took a look at his expensive and generally acceptable attire, he wasn’t quite sure what could be amiss about it, but of his friend’s outfit he could touch up a few things. “What- what does an acceptable outfit consist of then, Your Highness?” He asked hesitantly.
“Usually, our custom is to attach onto ourselves little mementos of the places we’ve seen and the people we’ve met. The items themselves are of no real importance and tend to come off eventually, but that’s fine, whether it’s a piece of jewelry or a pine cone, its value to us rests on its story. You know? Who did the ring belong to and how did it come to your possession, did the pine grow in the middle of a town or a beautiful forest? These are the things we’re interested in.” The queen explained and fiddled with something dangling from her antler. “Now, you obviously don’t have the time to go back and pick things from your past, so I’ll suggest a compromise. Go outside and have a look at the ground, pick up three that speak to you on a personal level and bring those here. Normally, items that have fallen from us are out of limits for the rest of the tribe and are left there to wait for someone else to pick them up and add to their story, but since you aren’t a part of the tribe, go ahead and take a gander at the selection.”
The merchant in Charles was immensely delighted to hear that the goblins and their ruler weren’t too interested in the monetary value of what they had, since it meant that they likely wouldn’t push hard to get a cut from the profits their land would bring. On the other hand, they appeared to give much value to customs and traditions, which meant he would need to play close attention to them to successfully trick them.
He bowed politely to the queen and the men were escorted out by the mass of goblins they were still surrounded by.
“Okay, look for anything that seems like it would have an interesting story behind it.” Charles advised his friend.
Rupert had his injured hand wrapped in his shirt and wasn’t particularly in the mood for treasure hunts. He picked up a stick that happened to be on the ground right next to the castle and figured it would do. “What do you think she is? A dryad?” He asked, far more interested in that than looking for goblin garbage.
“Well, obviously she’s not a goblin, but dryads are supposed to be tall, I think. I’m sure there’s no shortages of woodland spirits and other buggers that could pull off leading a punch of goblins, but not sure how she would have a simulacrumb as a housecarl if there wasn’t more to her than it seems.” Charles reasoned while looking through the grass with the aid of the goblin still tied to his leg.
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“Queen white! Much strong!” One of the goblins added to the conversation.
“So she’s somehow strong then?” The merchant asked. Trying to figure out what they were dealing with was very important as well, just in case the negotiations failed, and he would need to come back with mercenaries.
The goblin looked around for a while before pointing behind the castle at the part of the field they hadn’t seen yet. “Even kill stone dragon! Throw spear with much goblin power, dragon become two half dragon.” It croaked and tried to run off into the direction it had pointed in.
Charles and Rupert looked at each other, suddenly very worried. Neither of them had ever seen a wyvern, drake or even a particularly large lizard, so dragons were firmly out of their comfort zone, especially ones made out of stone. If the queen was capable of splitting one in twain with a single spear, it would definitely change the plans from trying to take advantage of her tribe to simply running and never looking back.
They rushed to the direction the critter what leading them, into a large open field on the far side of the round castle – a large open and above all, empty, field. Expecting to see a dilapidated carcass of a gigantic stone dragon, the men were extremely relieved to see nothing worthy of note.
From tree line to tree line, the field was empty aside from a few stones here and there, but they didn’t appear in any way strange or dragon-like. There was a slight dent in the surface of the ground that reached its lowest point in the middle of the field, roughly a couple of meters below its edges. One would have to be very gullible to believe it was the result of a dragon’s crash landing.
“So, where’s this stone dragon then?” Rupert asked, already smugly grinning.
“God eat it, says bad people might come looking and hurt goblin. But goblin use dragon crumbs to make new castle. Dragon step on old goblin castle, make it too flat.” The green creature explained to the best of its abilities and pointed at what seemed like ruins of a building similar to the one right by them.
“Right, right!” Rupert mocked the goblin. “A god ate it, so it isn’t here anymore, I’m sure that’s what happened.”
Charles nudged his friend and leaned closer to whisper. “Obviously it’s all make-believe of these simple creatures, but don’t bother them about it, because I have an idea.” He then picked up a stone from the ground and showed it to the goblin. “My first item will be this crumb of a dragon!” He declared.
The goblin gasped and began to croak happily, which the merchant took as a sign that it was a great idea. He pocketed the pebble and resumed his search for the other two.
Rupert was still largely unwilling to see effort for what he considered a pointless errand and simply picked up a couple more sticks to complete his part. His motivation had once more shriveled and the only reason he hadn’t abandoned Charles to handle things alone, was the promised priestess. Obviously, he still wanted to see what the queen ended up being like but based on what little they could see in the dark, she was a bit runty for Rupert’s tastes.
With the more energetic merchant leading the way, they wandered around the field, passing by a few goblins here and there. There was no telling what the critters were doing, but they certainly appeared to be in a great hurry and darted around as fast as they could with varying degrees of proficiency. In one group of maybe ten goblins, the fastest ones had almost discovered running, some found it easiest to go on all fours, a couple were trying to make their steps as long as possible and finally the slowest one laid on the grass with its face against the ground and slowly pushed forth with its legs.
Deciding to see where this particular group was coming from, Charles walked around a small patch of trees they had appeared from and found himself by the edge of a large, steep-walled hole in the ground. About ten meters wide and half of that in depth, the hole had been dug somewhat recently, but the walls had already started to collapse slightly. The bottom was filled with a few centimeters of water on top of what looked like a solid stone floor, which was accessible by a slippery-looking arrangement of planks stuck to the walls. On one side, the hole had grazed what appeared to be a carved piece of flat stone, with something that looked awfully lot like a pair of heavy doors that hadn’t been moved in ages.
The patterns on the doors were unmistakably handmade and worn down by being buried for who knows how long. This immediately set off fireworks in the merchant’s head and he grasped his friend. “This is it! This is how we will finally make it big! Do you have any idea how much some schools and scholars are willing to pay to get their hands on some pristine, untampered ruins? Remember that castle you wanted since you were but a young lad? Well go ahead and start planning what you want for your summer castle as well, because we’ll live like kings!” He exclaimed and shook his friend, successfully infecting Rupert with his excitement as well.
“A brewery, manned by the most skilled brew masters from Vassund, and that’s just in the lobby!” The taller of the two responded happily.
“That’s right! But we still need to pull off this meeting.” Charles said and pulled a rusty nail jutting out from one of the planks as his second item of choice. “A nail from the path to mysterious ancient ruins!”
With their mood skyrocketing thanks to the discovery, the pair merrily headed back, whistling and laughing on their way.
Figuring his first two items were impressive and well thought-out enough, Charles only picked up a fork he happened to spot on the grass. And so, armed with a pebble, a nail, a fork and three sticks, they returned to the court of goblins, ready to face the queen again – this time full of spunk and gumption.
The queen stared down at them from her throne as soon as they entered, killing a lot of the momentum they had gained, but the two remained hopeful.
“So, what have you brought?” She asked and crossed her legs. “Tall man, you will go first.”
Rupert stepped into the light shining through the hole in the ceiling and meekly presented his sticks. Besides a few goblin teeth marks, nothing about the sticks made them unique or interesting in any way and it made him very nervous.
“Didn’t put much effort into this, huh? Well, that wasn’t the point anyway. Please tell me why you chose these sticks?” The queen asked, sounding more delighted than angry at the lack of respect her request had been given.
“They… they were the first things that I happened to notice.” Rupert said meekly and almost visibly shrank as his bravery deflated under the queen’s gaze.
“Fair enough.” The queen shrugged. “Honest as well, a much rarer quality than you’d think. Now then, Fat man, your turn.”
Wondering if he should correct the queen about their names or not, Charles stepped into the light and showed his collection.
“Interesting, took a bit of a walk, did you?” The queen wondered and leaned forwards. “Care to tell me why these three?”
Suddenly overcome by nervousness again, the young merchant wiped his drenched forehead chose his words with care. “Your Highness, this crumb of a dragon slain by no other than y-“ He started reciting an overly flourished story that was sure to impress anyone who heard it, but was interrupted by the queen hitting the armrest of her throne.
“No, no, no… Not like that at all! I knew this would happen.” She groaned in frustration. “It’s always the same with your kind. Let me guess, you picked up some bullshit and thought that you could impress me with some exaggerated tale of grandeur and heroism, didn’t you? I can see the glimmer of gold in your eyes, Fat man, it’s a trait that comes with a mouth that floods the world with sewage.”
Stunned by the insults and the piercing blows laid to his ego, Charles wasn’t able to respond before the queen continued her rant.
“Let me explain to you the way of our tribe; a story doesn’t need to be grand, exciting or ridiculous to mean something. People often only pay attention to those kinds of stories, and with each retelling they gain a few more cancerous lumps of lies and exaggeration. Great battles, immense riches and uncontested power is all that interests your kind, but not us, we see the value hiding in all things mighty and small. No matter how disposable or cheap something is, there is worth hidden in it.” The queen explained with sudden weight behind her words. “Take the sticks your lazy buddy chose for example. The trees they grew on, where are they? What are they like? Do animals live in them? For all you know, there might even be some acorns! But these three unassuming sticks were first torn off by wind or animals, only to end up here, and then somehow get used as an example. After this, he’ll just toss them out because why would he keep some sticks he happened to pick up, but that makes it possible for some animal to pick them up and use them to make a nest – a nest that might one day have the fluffiest of baby animals in it! Do you have any idea how irreplaceable those sticks are?! Not a single part of that story needed gigantic beasts or seas full of gold, yet what can be learned of it?”
The queen paused to calm her breathing. It was clearly a rant she had given countless times and one she was already sick and tired of.
“We can learn that there was a seed of a tree that did not get eaten or end up in dry ground or too much shadow, a seed that defied odds and miraculously grew into a tree. We can learn that a there was a gust of wind that somehow happened, I have no clue how wind is a thing, but I assume it’s all farts that move the air. We can learn that there was a young man – I hope I don’t have to explain where people come from – who acted true to himself and did as he saw fit. There was an opportunity to lie and dishonor the sticks, but he had the spine to stand in front of me and say what he thought, and that alone is worth more than gold as a lesson to him.” She finished and took a sip from a cup her housecarl offered. “But what about you then, Fat man? You picked up a stone and came up with a malformed horror of a story to surround it with, completely disregarding the poor pebble’s own story. Oh, and by the way, that’s not even a piece of the dragon I defeated, it’s a piece of rock far, far older than that. How dare you disrespect your elders!”
Utterly destroyed, Charles lost what little pride he had in his posture and stepped out of the light. As the goblins around him grabbed the items from him and tied them around his legs with twine, he barely noticed. It would take more than a while for him to claw himself out of the hole the goblin queen had stomped him and his silver tongue into.
Rupert on the other hand, stood proud for once. He gladly gave the sticks to the critters and patted his friend on the back. Success was not something he often enjoyed, and though Charles was his friend, beating him for once felt extremely good.
“Well, that’s the first part of our customs handled, let us move on to the second one.” The queen declared suddenly and clapped her hands.
“What? There’s more?!” Charles cried out with a defeated whimper. “We did what you asked!”
The goblin queen took a deep breath. “I don’t know where you’re from, but I doubt suitable outfit is all that’s required to have a word with the king, queen or whatever. Do not forget where you are, this amount of backtalk would have won you rather troublesome gap between your head and shoulders with most crown heads.” She reminded the two and giggled derisively.
Rupert, as the one with his thoughts more composed at the time, stepped up. “How many parts is there going to be to all of this?” He asked bravely.
“All good things come in threes.” answered the queen and took another sip.
The men glanced at each other for help, but neither had an obvious answer to the situation. Though the queen didn’t appear too imposing, something about her presence felt so overwhelming that they could sense it tugging and pulling on every part of their being. There was no telling what would happen if the goblin queen’s requests weren’t fulfilled.
Charles did his best to gather himself again, but his words only came out as unsure whimpers and barely even reached the other end of the room, nothing like his embellished and grand praises from earlier. “What… what would you have us do then, Your Highness?”
“There was a time I witnessed a diplomatic meeting in Vassund, and they considered it extremely important that a meeting should start with good food and plentiful drinks. I think there’s quite a bit of wisdom to that, and so, I adopted this as a part of our customs.” The queen explained, now with an obvious undertone of glee in her voice.
As the monarch clapped her hands a couple of times, three goblins emerged from the shadows. One carrying a seemingly normal bottle of wine, and the other two carrying pieces of wooden planks with small, upturned bowls on them, hiding what was probably some gross goblin-made attempt at cuisine.
“Under these bowls are two customary dishes or our people. I’ve made it a bit more interesting by covering them for now, but since the Tall man clearly won the first part of the compe-… heeded to our customs with an honest heart! You may look under one bowl and decide whether you want to eat that dish or if you’ll give it to your friend.” The ruler explained in a way that would have obviously been a sign of derision, if the men could have focused on anything besides the fact that one of the bowls was moving on its own. “The wine you may share. I would have given you some cups for it, but I’m afraid we’ve outlawed them from everyone but me for the time being – but that’ll never bring back the goblins we lost to them…”
Charles nervously picked up the wine and began reading the label on it. “The Empress in Red, huh? This is actually some high-class wine.” He muttered surprisedly. Knowledge of fine drinks and foods the upper society enjoyed was something he considered imperative. There was no better way to show how refined your tastes were than being able to fluently converse about such matters, and oftentimes it was a good way to tell what the host really thought of you. Being offered expensive wines or appetizers was a good sign, and similarly, cheap brands were a sign of failing negotiations or an uphill battle to begin with.
“What? Like the stuff your folks have for dinner parties?” Rupert asked while keeping an eye on the moving bowl.
With shaky hands, the young merchant checked that the bottle was indeed still sealed, and they hadn’t been given goblin piss in an expensive bottle. “No, like the stuff kings and queens drink for celebration… Made and bottled in Mournvalley of all places. You could buy a large house in the inner city with the price of one of these bottles.” He explained in disbelief and placed the bottle down so that it wouldn’t accidentally fall from his trembling hands.
“Yeah, those corpse-fiddling lunatics brought a whole case of them for whatever reason. Sadly, I don’t really care for wine, and the last time I drank, thousands died.” The queen shrugged dismissively. “Surely I don’t need to remind you that refusing my gifts would be extremely insulting?”
“I choose the bowl that doesn’t move!” Rupert said without hesitation or without bothering to use the advantage given to him.
The queen seemed surprised. “Really? The other one is very popular among my tribe. Well, if that’s what you want, then so be it. Fat man! You can go ahead and start.”
Cursing his friend under his breath, Charles lifted up the bowl given to him. Under it was a piece of regular, non-moldy but slightly dry bread, and a bright green frog. He picked up both of the items on his menu and stared at them extremely worriedly.
Holding back laughter, the queen addressed him. “What you’ve got there is a traditional meal of frog bread. The frog has been freshly caught from the pit, and the bread was stolen from a mercenary just a couple of days ago. I do hope you enjoy!”
“Do… do I eat the frog?” The merchant asked, now sweating profusely as his meal stared at him in the eyes and ribbited.
“What? I mean, I guess you can eat it if that’s what you’re into – I sure won’t stop you, but generally the goblins just rub the bread on it to absorb the frog juice and then eat the bread.” The queen snickered and held back more laughter.
The look relief on the young man’s face was so immense, that it almost turned into a smile, and for a moment he didn’t mind having to eat frog bread. He happily scratched the frog with the stale piece of bread provided to him and gnawed on it for a while. The taste may have been a bit more ‘earthy’ than usual, but not inherently unpleasant, and almost certainly less horrible than whatever his friend was doomed to eat.
“Wait, that’s like venomous or something, right?” Rupert suddenly pointed out, shattering his friend’s illusion.
Charles could feel the hand he held the frog with go completely numb, followed by his mouth losing its sense of touch. Immediately panicking and fearing for his life, he threw the frog away and started scratching his tongue, as if that would have somehow peeled the poison out.
“Poisonous, actually.” The queen corrected them and laughed. “You don’t need to worry about it that much, the numb feeling goes away after a while. I handle them all the time and I’m still here.”
“You poisoned me, you… you…” The merchant almost lost his temper but just barely managed to hold back when he saw the faint glimmer of the queen’s grin and realized something; they were being played. The queen was simply toying with them, feigning customs and expecting to get a rise out of her guests. “Your Highness…”
Charles grabbed his friend with his numb hand and pulled him closer for a quick strategy meeting. “She’s trying to get us angry, don’t fall for it. Just keep a stiff upper lip and get through this one. These tasks have no actual significance and I think I can talk us out from doing the last one.” He whispered with a bit of a lisp from his numb mouth before turning back to the queen again.
“Goblin cuisine is truly exotic to say the least.” He continued with his hollow praises and popped open the wine bottle, setting it aside to aerate it, as he was taught to do by several expensive courses on the matter. “I like to consider myself a man of the world when it comes to tastes, so experiencing something like this is… unique.”
Meanwhile Rupert approached his dish with mixed feelings about it. Surely it couldn’t be any worse than frog bread? At least whatever he had to deal with was already dead. Holding his breath, he flipped the bowl and took a glance at what was served to him.
Crumpled on the plank was an inexplicably wet, black knee-high sock that had obviously just been taken off, likely while the two were out hunting for the items as a part of the first ‘custom’. It more or less confirmed that the queen was screwing with them without a doubt.
“Is this for real?” Rupert asked and sighed.
The queen snickered once more. “Is what for real? The sock? Yes, I lose like two pairs a week if I’m not careful, it’s basically the national dish at this point.” She explained, sounding completely sincere for a change.
“I’m not sure if you know, but humans can’t eat socks – and why is it wet?” The taller of the guests pointed out and reluctantly rolled open the bunched-up piece of clothing.
“Are you sure? I heard there are people who’d pay for it. Can’t you at least nibble on it? You need to respect our culture.” The queen sighed disappointedly.
Rupert shook his head and tossed the sock at the nearest goblin, who was very delighted to receive such a gift. “I’m not going to nibble on your dirty sock.” He rather understandably defied the ruler.
Though his friend refusing to take part in the second goblin custom put a bit of a damper on his plan, Charles figured he could at least prevent it from turning into an argument. Once more, he stepped up and spoke empty praises with his poison numbed mouth.
“I am sorry, Your magnificent Highness, but I have to interrupt. My business partner here has problems of the dietary kind, so he has to be awfully careful with what he eats.” He made up excuses for Rupert’s rudeness. “Now that we have observed two of the things customary to you and your fine, fine folk, don’t you think it is at least time for you to meet us face to face and hear out what we have to say? The third and final rite of goblinkind can be saved to the end of this meeting, can it not?” He said, betting on the hunch that the goblin queen didn’t actually care about the customs and would just fold with any resistance to avoid things from becoming difficult, and more importantly, boring.
The queen pondered and mused the situation for a while and seemed to be fiddling with something small, twirling it between her fingers and tossing it up every now and then. As her gaze scanned over the visitors once more, the men could feel the strange grip on their being strengthening gradually. As if it was searching for weaknesses or signs of something, the force somehow tensed the muscles in their bodies and even hampered their breathing briefly. Just as they thought that they wouldn’t be able to move their bodies anymore, the queen stood up and pressed whatever she was playing with into the armrest of her throne.
“Fine.” She giggled as bright, light blue lines of light began spreading from the throne.