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3- Rollinrock Rattles a Racist

3- Rollinrock Rattles a Racist

Besides Jagster’s unfortunate swim, the rest of his journey across the sea was largely peaceful, save the occasional drunken brawl over card cheats. Jagster himself never got caught cheating, except the once where it turned out convincing the keen-eyed ship captain to be his accomplice was a simple matter of offering to split the take.

As for the other passengers, the only people Jagster got along with were Annette and Tiph. Jagster spent most of his time with Annette, both on account of his appreciation for her saving his life and just plain enjoying her company.

As for Tiph, she wasn’t quick to apologize to Jagster but, when she did, she was genuine. Jagster didn’t take any offence to being attacked since he, more or less, expected such treatment. In fact, he was too busy being fascinated by her telekinesis to be angry. It was a rare ability that was mostly found among those that had accidentally contacted extradimensional beings of great power, such as gods or devils. Tiph, herself, had no memory of such an encounter.

Verys and Jagster stayed cordial but distant for a good while. They didn’t hold a full conversation with each other until a full month after their initial meeting. It took that long for Verys to judge the goblin to be benevolent, or, at least, not malevolent.

Jagster actively avoided Daphine and her man-servant Ted Varen. Jagster avoided Ted because he found the man so boring it was soul-sucking. He was a drab little half-elf man that was distinctly average in every conceivable way. Neither tall nor short. Neither fat nor thin. Neither well-kept nor disheveled. He was forgettable in every way, and Jagster preferred not using any mental space considering his existence.

In the case of Daphine O’Dora, Jagster could not get past his discomfort around her. He felt a magical energy from her that he did not recognize, and she had a habit of knowing things she shouldn’t. Mind control and thought reading were not only difficult magic, but they were prohibited in most societies. The possibility that this mysterious woman with her bizarre antennae engaged in such magic made Jagster uneasy.

After two months of travel, the ship docked at the only known port on the, as of yet, unnamed continent. While the passengers disembarked, the crew unloaded their belongings. Afterwards, two strange men came from the town to greet the arriving ship.

The mystery pair consisted of a human in regal attire and an elf whose features were slightly more baby-faced than the usual angular appearance of older elves. The human was a bearded, elderly man of average height that sported a pronounced gut which was poorly hidden under baggy noble’s clothes. The elf, like most of his kind, was tall and slender. But unlike most of his kind, he wore a cowboy hat. Strapped to his hips were, what appeared to be, two small cannons.

Firearms were a somewhat rare commodity. Jagster, while hearing of these weapons, had never actually seen one in person. They were, by some, referred to as “the great equalizers”.

How they could make an ordinary person equal to some magic-user who could kill a giant with a single word, Jagster wasn’t sure. However, he figured the schmucks lacking magic and skill needed something to make themselves feel safe from the big bad monsters of the world.

The regal human and gun-toting elf spoke to the captain who, in turn, fetched Daphine O’Dora. Curious, Jagster inched himself over to hear their conversation. As she walked over, Daphine glanced at him for a moment and then, satisfied she made Jagster aware of her observation of him, looked away without comment.

Upon seeing Daphine, the old man looked perplexed and then smiled. “You must be the woman who funded this grand expedition,” he said.

“I wouldn’t call our travels grand,” Daphine said with genuine modesty. “In fact, if all goes as planned, the ‘grand’ part of this journey lies a good deal ahead.”

“Ah,” the old man declared excitedly. “You must be explorers! Fantastic. We haven’t had any of your lot in— Oh—”

“Seventy years,” the elf said, helpfully.

“Yes. Thank you. Seventy years! Not since my father founded this settlement.”

“I’m sure your father was a very interesting man, Mister—…?”

“Right. Yes. Sorry. Francis Ford is the name. And that would be ‘Sir’, not ‘mister’. Sir Francis Ford, Baron of the Ford settlement belonging to the great kingdom of Roch.”

Jagster stifled a laugh. The kingdom of Roch was absorbed by the kingdom of Verz thirty or so years ago. That meant “Sir” Francis Ford was baron of nothing for the great kingdom of nowhere.

Still, he did not think this was the politest thing to say to the local leader. Especially since he wasn’t supposed to be here to begin with. Thus, in a move somewhat uncharacteristic of the goblin, he decided to keep silent.

“Sir it is then,” Daphine said with a smile, holding back her contempt for patriarchal authorities. “So, Sir Ford, might I presume this town has an inn we can use for our base of operations?”

“Well, yes and no. The local inn has been out of business for a long time. We don’t exactly get many people passing through. However, the owners have long vacated, so you are free to occupy the building.”

“That will do nicely,” Daphine said.

“Ooo! We get to run our own inn?!”

The interruption surprised those in the conversation and their goblin eavesdropper. They each, in turn, looked towards the speaker. A beaming Annette jogged up to them quite excitably, holding several heavy-looking suitcases in her arms.

“Ah always wanted to run my own inn,” Annette declared. “But ah ain’t too good at math an’ money an’ stuff. I bet with you an’ Ted, though, we’d run a great inn!”

Annette looked at Daphine with a big toothy grin. Daphine, despite her cool demeanor, couldn’t help but smile back.

“Well, no matter what, we need somewhere to stay,” Daphine said. “So, the inn it is.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Annette attempted to fist pump but almost lost her balance as she struggled to hold everything in her arms while doing so. “Okeedokee,” Annette declared. “Off ah go!” She then ran off in the direction of the town.

“Erm,” Sir Ford grumbled. “I didn’t say where the inn was yet…”

“I’m sure she’ll find it eventually,” Daphine said with a chuckle. “Now, there are other matters I would like to ask about, but that can be saved for after we get settled.”

“I gotta question,” Jagster popped in, making himself known to Ford and the elf. “Where’d that elf get hand cannons from? They ain’t exactly the typical hippy dippy elvish kind of stuff, y’know?”

The elf looked visibly offended and Ford looked absolutely outraged.

“Who let THAT THING in MY lands?!” Ford yelled.

“‘That thing’ is a person,” Jagster declared in his usual manner. “And that person is not keen on being objectified unless in the sexy way.”

Ford turned to the elf and pointed at Jagster. “Terminate this abomination. Now.”

The elf scowled. He looked back and forth between the goblin and Sir Ford. “No,” he replied after a moment.

“I order you!” the Baron protested.

“No.”

“You are my personal guard. I demand that you—”

“Guard. Yes. He isn’t presenting a threat to you. So, no.”

Sir Ford scowled at the elf and opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by Daphine O’Dora fake coughing. It was a light sound with very little intimidation factor. Despite already having everyone’s attention, she tried again to see if she can do it better. No dice. She let out a small sigh and spoke.

“The goblin is one of my people. I would take great offense to him being harmed. Believe me, Sir Ford, you do not wish to see me offended.”

Sir Ford glared for a moment, then he spoke. “I suppose I can allow the goblin’s presence. If it proves itself a productive member of society.”

“‘He’ doesn’t like being spoken about like ‘he’ isn’t here,” Jagster said with a distinct note of disdain. “Anyways, what exactly are we talkin' about here? You want me to get a job, or somethin'?”

Ford continued to speak, without acknowledging Jagster. “A local wizard has gone off the deep end in recent years. He has made a base of the old church and has been recruiting local youngsters into his newly formed 'religion'. His cult is growing dangerous for the community. They have been digging up corpses to experiment in necromancy and, rumor has it, they are responsible for a string of disappearances. If the goblin were to assist in eliminating this problem, I may be convinced of its decency.”

“Why couldn’t the town guard attend to this issue?” Daphine asked.

“Bah,” Jagster scoffed. “Ya really think this long-abandoned shithole still has a town guard?”

Ford’s frown deepened as he struggled to ignore the goblin. “We do not have a town guard of substance. Our population is small, and most of us whom are still fit for fighting are running the farms that keep us all fed or patrolling the gates to the wilderness beyond.”

“Kill a necromancer and get the racist old man off my ass,” Jagster succinctly recapped. “Sounds like a fair deal to me. I’ll do it.”

For the first time since Daphine’s cough, Ford looked at Jagster. “It will be perilous,” the Baron remarked.

“Life is perilous.”

“You could die,” Sir Ford continued.

“We all gotta die sometime.”

Ford looked over Jagster with a hint of something Jagster couldn’t quite pin down. He would say ‘appreciation’, but given how the old man clearly felt about goblins, that was unlikely. In any case, the open disgust and hatred seemed to have softened somewhat.

“Very well, then,” Ford said after a few moments of awkward silence.

“I shall leave the matter to you," Sir Ford continued, turning back to Daphine. "Nic here will lead you to the inn. I’ll visit tomorrow for a report and to check in on how you all are settling in. Good day, Miss O’Dora.”

With that, Sir Ford took his leave.

Daphine turned to Jagster and said, “I suppose I should help you eliminate the necromancer. Having one around would inconvenience my own operations.”

“Yer all heart, aren’t ya?” Jagster grumbled.

Daphine smiled. “Also, I expect repayment for me saving you from Ford’s unpleasantness. Annette tells me you know a little about liquor and our new inn will need a barkeep.”

“My bad. Not all heart. All teeth. Like a shark.”

Daphine patted Jagster on the head, causing him to flinch with discomfort. “I look forward to doing business with you.”

~~~

The inn was a mess. In fact, mess would be a compliment to the circumstances the building’s new inhabitants stumbled upon. The place looked like it was looted for anything valuable, which, Jagster supposed, it could have been.

There was also an incredible stench of death as a local junkie had elected to overdose on opioids in the basement. Apparently, this was not a particularly special occurrence as the mortician was quite unperturbed and quick to the scene.

Ever the optimist, Annette was enthused and made it quite clear that, corpse notwithstanding, the situation really wasn’t that bad. Ted very much disagreed. Verys Nelt was just happy to have somewhere to stay other than a ship. Tiph was more interested in what stone the foundation was made of. Daphine tried to keep up with Annette’s go-getter attitude but was, frankly, far too disgusted by the filth to offer more than the occasional smile and nod.

Jagster, being who he was, immediately searched the premises for something that would provide pleasurable inebriation. His searches were mildly successful as he found a tankard of ale that was unopened. He, accidentally, of course, fell into the tankard and drank his fill.

Daphine suggested they start making the inn livable by each of them finding their own room and cleaning it out. Most euphorically agreed. After all, despite the derelict status, the inn was a fine building and, with some work, could be made into a proper place to live.

“I’ll shtay in da badement,” Jagster declared in a slurred but still comprehensible garble. “Perfec fer may alkery expurrimants n suff.”

Daphine nodded. “That sounds fine. Plus, it would be a good place to store anything you brew for the inn.”

“Bah. Yer still on bout dat?”

Daphine smiled a soft but mischievous smile. “Indeed. Now, you might want to sober up quick. We have a church to get to this evening.”

“Aw hell. Cn we do it tomurruw?”

“No, sir. We have to finish cleaning up tomorrow. On top of that, our group plans on going on an expedition past this town tomorrow. Since you work for me now, you’ll tag along for that, yes?”

“Don’ rember greein to work fer ya, but whaevah.”

“Excellent. Off to the church, then. Annette? Verys? You are both combat savvy, and we could use that. I would like you to come with us.”

Annette gave a thumbs up. Verys gave an apathetic shrug. Tiph tugged at Daphine’s dress, making her desire to go known. Thus, the group was gathered for an adventure.