The smell of smoked meats greeted Elijah before the restaurant even came into sight. His mouth watered as he remembered all the barbecue joints he’d sampled over the course of his life. His infrequent forays into vegetarianism – usually taken at the insistence of a girlfriend or his more environmentally conscious coworkers – had consistently been squandered by his love of well-cooked meat. He was a born carnivore, and no amount of social pressure could ever really change that, even if he’d made a decent effort at it from time to time.
But now, after having to subsist for more than two years with nothing but his own terrible cooking for comfort, he couldn’t stop his mouth from watering the moment those savory smells graced his nostrils.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long before they reached the restaurant. It was a squat structure that took up an entire corner of an intersection of two major thoroughfares, and judging by the number of people entering and exiting the building, it was one of Ironshore’s more popular destinations.
The interior was packed with dwarves, gnomes, goblins, and the odd elf, all of whom sat at a pair of long tables that reminded Elijah of cafeterias he’d seen during his high school years. The only difference, aside from the clientele, was that instead of being made of plastic and stainless steel, they were constructed of scrubbed wood.
Of course, the moment the diners saw Elijah, their conversations came to a poignant halt as each and every eye turned to behold the interloper in their midst. Ramik seemed to have anticipated this, and he quickly led Elijah across the main room and to a private dining area. There, Elijah found at least one familiar face among the five other people already seated at a more formal-looking table.
Carissa nodded to him, and said, “Welcome to the Stuck Pig. Best Cook in town runs the joint.”
“I could smell it from a block away,” Elijah admitted. He gave her a reassuring smile before adding, “Believe me when I say it almost brought tears to my eyes.”
Soon enough, Ramik had guided Elijah to a chair, and the moment he sat, he realized what his next project should be. Sure, Nerthus had grown a few chairs in his tree house, but if he wanted to sit in his garden, he had to do so on the ground. Already, his mind whirled with plans for building the perfect chair.
It wasn’t until a few seconds later that he realized that he’d been staring off into space, and that everyone was looking at him.
Elijah cleared his throat, then said, “Sorry. I’ve been alone for a long, long time, and I sometimes get a bit lost in my own head.”
“How long?” asked Carissa.
Elijah shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not exactly sure,” he said. “Time got a bit funny there for a while. I think it’s been around two years. Except Nerthus, of course, but he doesn’t really count.”
“Why?” asked one of the other goblins. Elijah noted that she had conniving eyes, so he marked her as untrustworthy. But that wasn’t so different from all the rest of them. Not really, at least. Even Ramik and Carissa, both of whom had actually helped him, had yet to earn his trust.
“Who is Nerthus?” asked the fourth diner. He was another dwarf, and judging by the way he kept glancing toward Carissa, the pair were either related or a couple. Elijah didn’t know enough about dwarven physiology or mannerisms to make a judgment about which one was more likely.
“Just a friend. He’s not important,” Elijah said. “These are some nice chairs, by the way. You wouldn’t know who made them, would you? I’d love to get the plans.”
“Chairs?”
“Yeah. I don’t have any chairs on my island. Well, I do, but they’re not exactly where I want them, you know? I was thinking of building a couple. Everyone needs a hobby, I guess, and I suppose I could make chair-building mine. Though after I finish one chair, I don’t know if I’ll want to build more. That’s the ticket, I think. Figuring out what you want to keep doing, I mean. I keep trying to fill my time with different things, but after doing it once, I’m done with it. Like when I made my soap. It was a fun and diverting project, but I don’t think I ever really want to do it again.”
Everyone just stared at him like he’d grown a third ear. But unlike with Sara the dragon, Elijah hadn’t just started running off at the mouth on accident. Instead, he’d done it for a reason – to throw them off and keep them from focusing on his slip of the tongue. He hadn’t intended to mention Nerthus. Nor had he meant to awkwardly stare off into space.
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As it turned out, the group was willing to forgive his seeming eccentricity, and they soon turned their attention to the reason they’d invited him to the meal in the first place. They wanted an alliance – desperately, it seemed. When Elijah had killed the Black Sun mercenaries who’d tried to invade his island, he’d robbed Ironshore of much of their defense force. As such, they were vulnerable – and they knew it.
To them, Elijah represented a solution to that problem. After all, he was powerful enough to kill almost fifty people, all by himself. Surely, he could protect them from anything that might come after them until they managed to contract more mercenaries.
Either way, they spent the next fifteen minutes trying to forge an alliance with Elijah. For his part, he was content with a pact of non-aggression, so he didn’t commit to anything one way or another. Fortunately, it wasn’t long until the food arrived.
Elijah’s eyes lit up as one tray of steaming meat after another was brought in by the restaurant’s waitstaff. They were all goblins, identifiable by their simple, if identical red outfits, but Elijah was admittedly unconcerned with anything but the food they served. Not only was there plenty of meat – it looked like pork, but it might’ve been something else – slathered in some sort of red sauce, but there were also tureens filled with various vegetables. When he saw the rest of the diners serving their own plates, Elijah didn’t hesitate to join them, piling his own plate high with everything he saw.
Over the course of his life, Elijah had eaten plenty of great meals. From the simple – like the home-cooked meals he’d once enjoyed with his family – to the borderline ostentatious, like eating at five-star restaurants in celebration of special occasions, he’d enjoyed some of the best Earth had to offer.
None of it came close to what he tasted in Ironshore’s best restaurant. With the grace of hindsight, Elijah could at least admit that his enjoyment was based at least partially on the fact that he’d been eating charred crab and poorly-prepared fish stew for most of the past two years. But unbeknownst to him, it was also the effect someone with the Cook class could have on food preparation.
Either way, he would remember it as the best meal he’d ever eaten, and it was almost enough to push him over the edge and into an alliance, if only it meant that he could enjoy their food a little more often.
“I think I might have to kidnap your Cook and put them to work on my island,” he joked. The levity didn’t quite make it through, though, and he got a couple of frightened looks before he pointed out that he was, in fact, joking. That got a couple of nervous laughs, telling him in no uncertain terms how they saw him.
To them, he was a dangerous and unpredictable force that was responsible for mass murder. Did it matter that he had no intention of attacking anyone who didn’t try to attack him first? No. Nuance was easily outpaced by fear, and never was that more obvious than during that wonderful meal.
As a result, Elijah was at least a little relieved when it came to an end. With a promise that he would give the alliance all due consideration, he and Ramik left the others behind. Without any other errands to run – and with daylight already starting to fade – Elijah and the goblin stopped by the clothier so he could pick up his clothes.
Mari, the Tailor, handed him a few large parcels, telling him that she had put together three full outfits for him. He thanked her, paid the fee – plus a bit extra for her trouble – and then told Ramik that he was ready to return to his island.
The goblin took that in stride and escorted him through town and back to the dock. Once there, Ramik broached the subject of the alliance. “We really could use your assistance,” he said. “I know you are hesitant to –”
“Look,” Elijah said. “I’m not saying I don’t want an alliance. I’m not sure. But if you need me, just send someone to the island. Don’t stray from the beach, and I’ll be there as soon as possible. As far as mutual defense – I’ll do what I can. I’m not saying I’ll come to your rescue, but I’m not saying I won’t, either.”
Ramik sighed. “That will have to do, then.”
Elijah climbed into the rowboat, then added, “But I want to reiterate. Just because we’re playing nice doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten that your people were the aggressors. I know you claim not to have had anything to do with Cabbot and his mercenaries, and I’m inclined to believe you. But if anyone comes to my island looking for trouble, trust me when I say that they’ll get more than they want.”
With that, he pushed off and started rowing across the strait.
As he went, Elijah considered the alliance on offer. It seemed to him that Ironshore didn’t really have much to offer that he couldn’t get for himself. Sure, he liked having access to a Branch, but he’d exhausted the possibilities of the guides on offer. With the crystalline leaves in his pack, he had more information to study now than he could get through in a year.
And he’d gotten everything else he needed for the time being.
So, why would he ally himself with them, except as an expression of social responsibility? Could he sit idly by and watch them overrun by some unnamed enemy? What if the Voxx attacked them? Or some pack of dangerously mutated animals? Or worse, another settlement?
No. Elijah knew himself well enough to recognize that he couldn’t do that. Did that make him some doomed white knight? Maybe. It certainly wasn’t conducive to self-preservation. However, he simply didn’t want to be the sort of person who could stand by and watch people being killed for no other reason than because he couldn’t find any reason to intervene. If he could help, he would. Basic decency dictated at least that much commitment.
But he had no intention of committing to some sort of official alliance. More than anything, he wanted to be left alone – at least until he didn’t – and the best way to do that was to keep to himself and maintain a sense of danger that would hopefully keep the people of Ironshore away.
With that in mind, Elijah crossed the strait, arriving back on his island just before the sun settled below the horizon.