Verys and Daphine made a spirited attempt to help Annette prepare breakfast for Baron Ford’s visit to their ramshackle inn. The two were enthusiastic in their work, Daphine to start on the right foot with the local lord, and Verys to be in the good graces of his employer after his failures the day before. They were so enthusiastic, in fact, that Annette didn’t have the heart to tell them that they were largely just getting in the way. It is in this mess the three of them missed a dire conversation that was occurring in the very next room, as Nic gave Jagster a dark expression in the dining room and Tiph looked on, curiously.

“What is that?” Tiph asked, tilting her head as if a different angle would reveal the true nature of the device that Nic placed before Jagster.

“Inhumane is what it is,” Jagster growled, looking at the muzzle with a hard expression. He glared at Nic and said, “You have got to be shittin' me.”

Nic shook his head with a dour expression. “I am afraid not. In fact, I was ordered to put it on you by force. However, this all seems… Excessive to me. I would like for you to put it on as comfortably as you can and try not to draw attention to yourself.”

“And if I don’t?” Jagster asked with audible disgust.

“I have my orders,” Nic answered with a shrug.

Jagster grit his teeth and stared at the contraption for a few moments. When Nic moved to grab the muzzle, the goblin put up his hand and sighed. Without comment he strapped the muzzle to his face, tightening the straps just enough to give the illusion of security.

Once Jagster was done, Nic nodded and exited the inn.

Tiph eyed Jagster curiously. “Does that thing hurt?”

Jagster attempted to say something but found his mouth movements too hindered. He shrugged instead.

“It looks like it hurts,” Tiph said pointedly.

Jagster shrugged again.

The two sat in silence for a moment, staring at the inn door as they waited for Nic to return with Sir Ford. Jagster tapped his finger at the table unhappily. Tiph wiggled in her seat nervously.

“You know,” Tiph said after a little while. “I think this is the longest you have ever gone without talking.”

Jagster glared at her and made grunts of intense displeasure. For the first time since they met, Tiph smiled.

Sir Ford entered the inn in the manner a king would enter the throne room. After crossing the threshold, he paused briefly as if he expected some fanfare for his arrival. The only sound that greeted him was the buzzing of a fly and the sound of Jagster shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The old man stepped further into the building and looked around with a stern expression as Nic followed close behind him.

“Messy,” he said, more to himself than anyone else.

“Well, it is much cleaner than how the previous occupants left it,” Nic said pointedly.

“The opioid addict that was found here?”

“Ah, no,” Nic said, scratching his chin, which held substantially more stubble than elves were normally capable of growing. “The owners. They weren’t the… Classiest people. I figure these folk might do good for the place.”

Ford looked at Jagster and then immediately shifted his gaze. “I doubt that very much,” he grumbled.

The baron shifted his attention to Tiph and asked, “Where is your employer now?”

Tiph, without comment, thumbed behind them past the bar towards the kitchen. She did not like the baron and wanted their exchange to involve as few words as possible.

“Ah, the kitchen,” Ford said. “As to be expected. That’s where one would usually find a woman of her quality.”

Jagster tried to growl something at Ford, but just ended up drooling into his muzzle. His expression skewed unpleasantly as he tried to wipe the mess off his face as best as he could.

Ford ignored him and moved over towards a table in the corner of the room. He dusted off both the table and seat. Then, he unstrapped his sword, an ornate but dulled thing that was largely ceremonial, from his hip and set it aside. That done, he settled himself down.

“I suppose,” he said to Nic with a smile. “If these people are preparing breakfast, we might as well dine with them.”

Nic frowned and checked a pocket watch he withdrew from inside his jacket. After looking at it with some thought, he snapped it closed and returned it to where it came from.

“We have two hours,” he said.

“Plenty of time,” responded the baron. “Now sit down. Relax.”

Nic stood where he was, looking uncomfortable. As if the notion of relaxing was foreign to him.

“That’s an order, by the way,” Ford said in a hard voice “Your excessive diligence seems more like posturing, anyways.”

Nic sat himself at the nearest table, apparently not making note of whether it was clean. He unhitched a small bag of tools and cleaning supplies from his belt. He laid a cloth over the table and, then, drew one of his pistols out and began to dismantle and clean it.

Ford watched him for a moment, then turned to Tiph. “Lass, do you have anything here to drink?”

Tiph shrugged.

“What was that?” Ford said, derisively. “I couldn’t hear you. You’ll have to speak up.”

“I did not say anything,” Tiph responded in her usual soft monotonous voice while sporting a perplexed expression.

“My point exactly. You should speak when spoken to. Now, let’s try this again. Get me something to drink.”

“Go fuck a pig, like your daddy taught you,” Tiph said, without missing a beat.

She had heard Jagster use this phrase on a particularly unpleasant sailor, and felt it fit the situation. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the social awareness to realize that it wasn’t prudent to say such a thing to a local lord.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Jagster slapped his hand over her mouth with a concerned look but was far too late. Ford was already at his feet, holding his scabbard in one hand and sword in the other.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” Ford bellowed.

Nic sat up straight but did not move from his seat. He made quick eye contact with the panicked Jagster, both keenly aware that they might have a fight on their hands.

Tiph mumbled something through Jagster’s hand. Jagster tried to say something to her, but it also came out as nothing but incomprehensible mumbles.

Time seemed to slow. The baron walked towards Tiph and Jagster’s table. Jagster tensed, damning himself for leaving his backpack upstairs. Tiph struggled in Jagster’s grip, the danger of the situation still not sinking in. Nic began to stand, preparing to move between them.

It is to this scene that Annette burst from the kitchen holding a large plate of pancakes in one hand and a large plate of sausages in another. Daphine and Verys, in full health thanks to Jagster’s healing magic, followed quickly behind. With a large grin she, loudly, announced, “Breakfast is ready!”

Her smile immediately slipped away as she noted Ford moving towards Jagster and Tiph brandishing his sword. On instinct, she starting charging towards him, dropping the plates.

Nic also ran from his seat, hoping to get in between Annette and his employer. In his haste, he knocked everything on his table onto the floor and flung his chair to the side.

Jagster shoved Tiph to the side, hoping to place himself between her and the blade. Tiph let out a small yelp, whilst Jagster ground his clenched teeth.

At the exact same moment Annette took off, Verys and Daphine, not having an inkling of what was happening, caught the falling plates left in Annette’s wake. Verys’ snatched up the plate of pancakes with swift ease. Daphine manifested a hand of magic that snatched the sausages without her moving a muscle.

Just as her fist was about to collide into Ford’s face, Nic tackled Annette. She was a sturdy woman seemingly entirely made of dense muscle but was unbalanced. This allowed the more noodle-like Nic to force her off her trajectory. They both collapsed to the ground by Ford’s feet.

Also collapsing to the ground at this moment was Tiphone. She slammed into the floor shoulder first and bite her tongue during the impact. Tasting blood, she mentally damned the goblin for shoving her. She rolled over to see—

Ford, looking at the commotion Annette and Nic caused, absentmindedly swung his blade towards where Tiph was sitting, which Jagster was now positioned. The goblin screamed as the blade sunk into his shoulder, warm blood gushing across the table and floor in spurts.

Tiph’s eyes grew wide as goblin blood splattered onto her face. Annette hollered at the sight as she slammed a fist into Nic’s nose, drawing blood as it gushed from the blow. Verys began to charge forward, momentarily forgetting that he was unarmed save for a plate of food. Daphine grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, her eyes square on Tiphone.

The room rumbled with incredible ferocity as Tiph’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. An oppressive energy filled the air as she stood to her feet. She soon began to levitate, the air around her crackling with energy.

“What the hell?!” Ford shouted, aghast. “What is happening?”

While the baron was distracted, Jagster took the opportunity to smack the grip of the sword out of his hand and, with the blade still stuck in his shoulder and his arm barely attached, ducked under the table.

Adrenaline surged through his veins, causing his heart to race and his blood loss to quicken, but still leaving him with his innate quick thinking. While not at this level, he had felt this energy before and had an idea of what was coming.

Daphine, for the first time in a very long time, yelled. “Down,” she shouted, as she shoved Verys. The force of the push wasn’t much, but Verys heard her and felt it wise to comply. They both hit the ground just as it happened.

An explosion of pure force burst from Tiph’s small form, blowing everything around her across the room. The furniture scattered around, some of it shattering as it flew into the walls. Everyone that was on the ground covered their heads as they were battered by debris.

Ford let out a howl as he was flung from his position near the bar into the door serving as the inn’s entryway. He slammed into the wooden door with enough force to crack it in half. The old human felt his shoulder shift out of place from the impact and let out an agonizing scream.

“Gods damned,” Verys said, looking up. “Where was this outrage when I was on fire?”

Daphine shoved his head down. “Shut your fool mouth and stay down!”

Tiph floated towards Ford, with an expression of unmitigated hatred and rage. Her eyes fix on Ford. “Are you ready to die, old man?”

While Tiph said this, Jagster struggled to his feet. I’ve gotta stop this, he thought frantically. If Tiph offs the dickhead this town will lynch us all. I might drop dead any second now, but I can’t let the others get murdered for this crap.

Ford sputtered nothing but whimpers of pain and fear, in response to Tiph’s question.

Jagster tried to shout but just ended up grunting and drooling. He rolled his eyes as he started undoing the straps to the muzzle.

Figures. The only one trying to save the racist bastard’s life can’t because of his racist bastardry. Somewhere an asshole god is laughing.

“What was that?” Tiph said, sneering. “I could not hear you. You should speak up. After all, people should speak when they are spoken to.”

Tiph reached her hand forward. Ford suddenly felt as if his throat was in a death-grip. He was pulled up to his feet and then further. His neck was squeezed tightly as his feet dangled just a few inches from the floor.

“Please,” Ford choked as the invisible grip tightened. “Didn’t want to hurt you. Just scare. For. Respect.”

“You killed my friend,” Tiph growled, not realizing that Jagster hadn’t succumbed to the blow. “For no reason at all, you killed my friend. Now I will kill you.”

“Friend?” Ford gasped. “The goblin? The fucking— The goblin? It’s an animal, you stupid whore!”

“ENOUGH,” shouted Tiph. “Time to shut your idiot mouth for good.”

It was at this time, Jagster finally got the muzzle off. “Stop it, Tiph,” he yelled at the top of his lungs. I’ve gotta be quick, his darkening mind thought. Losing consciousness.

Tiph blinked and turned to the sound of his voice as Ford dropped to the ground. The gnome’s expression was hazy and confused, her mind frayed by her current emotional frenzy.

“You need to calm down,” Jagster said.

Tiph looked at the sword jutting out of Jagster’s shoulder as he slowly moved, wobbly and unstable towards her. His blood splattered onto the floorboards, leaving a trail of red behind him. Tiph’s eyes went white again and she turned back to the baron.

“No,” Jagster tried to shout, offering only a weak croak instead. “Stop. You need to stop.”

“Screw that,” Tiph shouted. “This man dies!”

The baron’s eyes grew wide as he attempted to scramble to his feet, only for his leg to suddenly snap, as if hit by a heavy blow. The man, now looking incredibly frail and feeble, howled.

“Dammit,” Jagster said as he tried to channel as much mystical energy as he could. He was close enough to do it, but it’s an unreliable spell at the best of times. Even if he wasn’t on the verge of passing out, it was useless if someone had the strength of mind to fight it. He had to try and hope Tiph was too out of it to struggle.

Jagster made a symbol with his hands, a sign of one of the few benevolent of the goblin pantheon. He mustered as much energy as he could to shout a single word in the goblin tongue.

The sound echoed in Tiphone’s head as she prepared to deliver the fatal blow. Despite not knowing what it meant, it was calming. A melodic word that soothed her. Her body began to relax as her energy dissipated. She lowered to the floor as her eyelids grew heavy.

Jagster, realizing he would need to make another push to finish the job, said the word again, lacing it with every ounce of magic he could muster. He was already tapped out, so exhausted from his, by his reasoning, fatal wound, so he drew energy from his very life.

An old trick. A dangerous trick. A potentially fatal trick. But he was dying anyways and was well beyond any healing spell he could muster. He had nothing to lose.

The word escaped his mouth once again, this time echoing across the entire room with its force. Everyone in hearing range felt their energy begin to steadily leave them.

Tiphone, the target of the magic, was hit the hardest. She went from feeling groggy to suddenly dropping like a stone.

From there, everything blurred for the goblin. Things were happening around him, but he did not have the ability to know what they were as his brain began to shut down.

He heard shouting. The elf, whose name had escaped him, rushed to his employer, who was screaming frantically and pointing his finger at the gnome. The elf lifted him to his feet and dragged him out the building.

Annette came to Jagster’s side. She was talking fast and frantically. He did not understand a word. The only thing even keeping him standing was adrenaline, which would soon wear off when he ran out of blood to lose.

Daphine shouted something at Verys, who scrambled upstairs to follow her command. The room started spinning. The goblin’s vision faded. It was his time, he thought. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt. He shouldn’t of left his daughter.

Then everything went black.