Verys Nelt was in a great deal of pain. Absolute agony. His screams were unbearably loud as he writhed from the unspeakable unpleasantness.

“Oh, shut up,” Jagster said as he channeled healing energies throughout Verys’ burns. “It ain’t that bad, ya wimp.”

“Keep talking,” Verys seethed. “And I’ll stab you, goblin.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jagster grumbled. “Just hold yer britches, I’m almost done.”

Verys burnt skin scabbed and fell off in seconds as new skin grew underneath. The process was disgusting to look at and incredibly painful.

Eventually, Verys looked good as new. By that point Jagster nearly collapsed from exhaustion, having burnt through the magic stores he regained from sleeping the previous night.

“Ugh, there ya go,” Jagster said as he plopped into a sitting position on the floor of the inn. “All healed.”

Verys stood up and began poking and prodding himself. He looked at Jagster and asked, “Am I supposed to hurt everywhere?”

“Hell if I know,” Jagster said, holding his head as he started to develop a pounding headache. “What I do know is that, yesterday, ya suffered enough wounds ta kill ya twice over. Frankly, yer lucky I could do anything for ya.”

Verys opened his mouth to say something when, suddenly, Annette burst into the inn carrying several crates. Daphine followed behind holding a small bag.

“Hello!” Annette announced excitedly. “Verys all fixed up?”

“As best as I can be, I suppose,” Verys said.

Daphine nodded. “Good to hear,” Daphine said as she took a seat at the cleanest looking table in the room. “When we got back from the church, the town doctor said you might not survive the night and Jagster needed a full night’s sleep to— How did you put it?”

Jagster groaned. “I needed to reset my connection to the divine and recharge my psychological and physiological capacity to tap into said energies.”

“Yes,” Daphine said. “That. In any case, we weren’t sure you’d survive long enough for him to heal you.”

“Well, I’m glad things worked out,” Verys said casually, as if he wasn’t discussing his near death experience.

While the others spoke, Annette piled the crates into an empty corner of the room. Jagster eyed her curiously. “What’s in the boxes?” he asked.

“Food,” Annette said with a gleaming grin. “A whole lotta food! Daphine worked out a deal with the folk ‘round here. We keep folk feelin’ safe, we get free food!”

Jagster perked up. “Oh, thank the gods. I haven’t eaten anything since we got off the ship yesterday. I’m starved.”

Annette nodded. “Most of it needs to be cooked still, but we have some bread to eat while ah get the kitchen up and running.”

Jagster stood up and made his way over to the crates, waving his hand absentmindedly. “Eh. Us gobbos are used to eatin’ raw stuff. Got tougher guts than the typical humanoid.”

Annette grabbed Jagster’s head, holding him in place. “Hey,” he cried out. “What gives?!”

“Ah ain’t lettin’ good cookin’ supplies go ta waste cause ya got no patience,” she said with a hint of disdain. “Ah said ya can eat bread, and yer gonna eat bread.”

“Alright, alright,” Jagster grumbled. “Just let go. Yer big meaty hands are squishin' my head.”

Annette let go with a small squeak of surprise. “Oh no,” Annette said with remorse. “Ahn sorry, Jaggy. Didn’t mean ta hurt ya none. Ya know how ah get when it comes to food.”

Jagster shrugged. “No biggie,” he said coolly. “If you think you’re bad, you should try dealin' with goblins or orcs. I once saw a guy literally eat someone’s arm ‘cause they took one of his apples.”

Jagster pulled the lid off a crate and rummaged in it until he could find a loaf of bread, which he, then, began to devour ravenously.

Meanwhile, Annette hurried to the remnants of the inn’s kitchen. The kitchen seemed to be largely functional but was in great need of repair to be in perfect order. Thus, her task set, she got to work.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Tiph wandered into the lobby, yawning. The day before had taken a huge toll on her as she was unaccustomed to using her powers so much. After the group’s adventure, she returned to the inn, wandered into her designated room, stripped naked and passed out. She had just now woken up and immediately came down to see if there was something to eat. She was so drowsy and starved, she even neglected to get dressed.

Upon seeing Tiph in her birthday suit, Verys Nelt covered his eyes. “Dear lord, woman,” he cried out.

“Oh,” Tiph said with mild surprise. “You are still alive.”

“Tiph,” Verys said, urgently. “You’re naked!”

Tiph looked down at her own form. “So I am,” she said with disinterest. She looked back up and asked, “Do you have any food?”

Daphine shifted in her chair uncomfortably, distressed by Tiph’s incredible lack of etiquette. “Miss Hyaku,” she said, frowning. “Please return to your room and get dressed. After all, there are heterosexual males present.”

“Nah, I ain’t hetero,” Jagster said between mouthfuls of bread. “Hundred percent pan over here. Don’t matter to me what yer sex or gender is ‘cause everybody’s got a butt.”

Daphine’s frown deepened into a scowl. “Too much information, Mister Rollinrock,” she said curtly. “Now, Miss Hyaku, please do as I ask.”

Tiph shrugged with mild annoyance and returned to her room. Verys removed his hands from his eyes and sighed with relief.

“Ah, thank you Miss O’Dora,” Verys said with a smile. “Frankly, I don’t know what goes through that woman’s head most of the time.”

“Hm,” Jagster grunted as he gestured towards Verys. “Well, little-you down there doesn’t seem to be complainin' about it.”

Verys’ face turned bright red as yanked at his belt to adjust his pants. “I-I-Well,” he stammered as he backed out of the room. “I— Uh. I’m going to go help Annette in the kitchen.”

Jagster bellowed a laugh as Verys frantically scurried out. He looked at Daphine and said, playfully, “Teens, am I right?”

“I do not know what you are, supposedly, right about,” Daphine said, quite seriously. “But I highly doubt you are.”

Jagster laughed again. “Right, right,” he said as he climbed up to the seat across from Daphine. “Yer a ‘tropical elf’ or whatever. So, your ‘teens’ probably lasted decades, anyways.”

Daphine leaned forward with her head tilted. “What was that you were saying to Nelt about a ‘little him’?” she asked with a perplexed expression.

Jagster opened his mouth and then closed it. He did this a few times and then he squinted at Daphine with confusion. Not sure what to say, he just stammered as he tried to find something to change the subject, on account of not wanting to have to explain penis jokes to someone that was over a hundred years his senior.

“What’s in the bag?” he finally asked.

“Did you just answer my question with a question?” Daphine said with a wry smile. “That’s very rude, you know.”

Jagster, catching the smile, frowned. “Yer just jerkin’ my chain, huh?”

Daphine flicked Jagster’s forehead playfully. “Please, child, how naive do you think I am? I’ve lived your entire lifetime twice over.”

“Yeah, yeah. Eat my ass,” Jagster said grumpily, not keen on the one being played with. “Seriously, though, what’s in the bag?”

Daphine leaned back with her arms crossed and crossed her legs. She sighed with some level of exaggerated exasperation. “I would prefer to make that reveal after we have breakfast. Discussing money on an empty stomach is unpleasant business.”

“Money?” Jagster said with a raised eyebrow. “What’re you—”

The goblin was interrupted by Tiph, now fully dressed, as she shuffled down the stairs. “You two bicker like an old married couple,” she said, punctuated by a yawn.

Daphine frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but Jagster was the first to interject.

“I’ll have you know that goblin spouses do not bicker,” he said. “In fact, the only time they see each other is when they’re fu—”

“That’s enough of that,” Daphine said, hurriedly. “Miss Hyaku, Annette and Verys are currently making breakfast. If you are not inclined to wait, there is bread in one of those crates.”

Tiph nodded and wandered over to the crates. “Huh,” she said, bemused. “That is a lot of food,”

“The locals were very pleased with our dispatching of the necromancer,” Daphine replied, with a shrewd smile.

“Who?”

“Ah… The wizard?”

“Oh,” Tiph said, remembering. “That old guy we beat up.”

Daphine sighed. “Yes, the ‘old guy we beat up’.”

“Technically,” Jagster said as he took another chomp at his bread loaf, wiggling his legs delightedly as they dangled off the chair. “WE didn’t beat up anybody. The only person that did any beatin' was Annette, who kicked the crap out of two robed dweebs and wrangled the old guy.”

“I stabbed a man with my brain,” Tiph said as she joined the other two at the table, with a loaf of bread in hand. “That is like beating up someone, right?”

“Nah,” Jagster responded between another bite. “It isn’t an ass kickin' unless they know they got their ass kicked. Ya don’t know fuck about shit if yer dead.”

“I am not sure,” Tiph said with a mouth full of bread. “You do not know fuck about shit, and you are alive.”

Jagster frowned. “You lil twerp. Why I outta—”

“Stop talking with your mouths full,” Daphine suddenly spurted out uncharacteristically loudly.

The goblin and gnome looked at her with confusion.

Daphine scowled and shrunk back. “It is very rude.”

The goblin and gnome looked at each other, swallowed and then asked, “Why?”