Duval Estate.

People would think that nobles would be more refined when eating. But that's only when they have someone they feel the need to overly impress or to lord over and make them think they are better than them.

He was not that person, Morty thought as he watched the gathered nobility pig out on the cheap greasy pizza like they and they alone were entitled to it. A few days and they were already showing signs of their "refined" eating catching up to them as the fine jaws of the humans were beginning to round out while the elves own sharp features that would give a plastic surgeon envy, were being filled in with grease and cheese.

While they gorged themselves on stuffed crust and stringy cheese pasta, Morty was eating a humble meal of slightly overcooked fish, a salad that was only mildly wilting, and a stiff glass of expensive bourbon. The kitchen staff were improving at least, Morty thought as he felt his arteries clog just from watching the grease coating the faces of the nobles.

Even their children weren't any better as they screamed, yelled, and cried at one another as they fought over garlic breadsticks, Italian cheesy bread, and twelve different sauces to drench them in. In public they were the perfect forms of dignity and nobility. But in private they wouldn't look out of place at a Vegas buffet.

The servants that followed them and attended to their every whim, usually so stone-faced and composed at their usual abuses and demands, looked at them with a measure of disgust that was only hidden behind pizza boxes. While Morty did offer his own staff to see to the nobles, they were quite quick in "graciously" refusing. It was obvious that they didn't care to associate, let alone trust, a goblin to see to their personal and private matters.

Which was fine by Morty. He didn't want to waste HIS manpower doing someone else's bidding! They worked for him and that was that! Not like the goblins weren't themselves grateful to be exempt from serving the nobles as even they had looks of disgust on their faces that they didn't feel the need to hide.

The air around the manor was rather tense as the nobles more or less occupied the up stairs east wing of the manor. It was reserved for guests/business partners/old friends that his father would invite and entertain. Since then the nobles have basically occupied the whole section and his staff were "politely" refused entry.

Which was to say that if they entered the area they were subjected to all manner of verbal abuse and "accidental" pushes and kicks. It filled Morty with a kind of spiteful glee as he watched them hog down heart disease and diabetes.

But before he spent anymore on these finely dressed pigs. He needed to know just how much influence they carried with the newcomers. From there he could decide if they were better off being puppets or prisoners.

"Your families were quite distinguished back in... Dale, was it?"

The head of human House Halifeor paused his gorging long enough to let out a barely suppressed belch before answering as he shoved glazed chicken wings into his gullet.

"That's right! Mmm. Though we were not the *crunch munch* heads of our houses back in Daele. Since the former heads *belch cough* stayed behind and are now more than likely *hiccup* dead, we now are the leading figures with the most *blech* distinction."

The head of the elvish House of Caeywin spoke as he guzzled down a wine glass of soda. They believed the extremely sweet drink was an exotic wine.

"It is now up to us to give the commoners a symbol to look to as a source of stability and knowledge that things are being handled."

So he couldn't just off them, Morty thought with a measure of bitterness as he watched his precious money being scarfed down. Then again, he still needed a display of such before making a decision.

"So I imagine that you, as heads of your respected houses, will do a show of some sort to give the unclean masses the sense of stability that you claim?"

That got the two heads to clamp shut their gobs long enough, Morty thought as he saw the looks strike across their faces that they'll have to be a measure of responsible now. The head of House Halifeor swallowed down a mouthful of crust before speaking.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"O-o-of course! We are... aren't we Lord Caeywin!"

The elvish noble was obviously less than pleased at being the center of attention at that moment. He cleared his throat as a string of carbonation came up.

"Yes WE are! We are in the process of planning a..."

"Fair." Morty suggested more than asked.

"Yes! A fair! Something to help the commoners to show their skills to our new, and quite gracious, host!" Lord Halifeor shouted and bits of cheese flew.

"Excellent! So what all do you two have planned? Some sort of competition I wager?" Morty once more heavily suggested when the nobles didn't elaborate.

"YES! Competitions aplenty!" The elvish lord cheered.

"Such as?" Morty asked as he washed down a dry piece of fish.

"Such as... jousting? Jousting!" Halifeor declared finally.

"Sword fighting and archery!"

That got them going, Morty thought as the lords continued to come up with new ideas for the fair that "they" planned. Morty's hope was that he could maybe earn back some money from this. A percentage of sales from shops would help him keep afloat until they reach the deposits. Because you can't have a fair and NOT have stalls and shops to hawk your wares. Food and drink stalls. Shops selling knick-knacks or other novelty goods.

Of course he'll have to be the one to foot the bill, since these nobles had a significant lack of wealth on them besides some personal coin pouches and some jewelry. Morty was starting to weight the pros and cons of keeping them around more.

He looked up as he was vaguely aware of one of them trying to grab his attention. Lord Caeywin smiled in that faux smile that he had grown much too used to already.

"Of course such an endeavor will require appropriate security."

"We would naturally provide such... if not for the majority of our house guards staying back in Daele." Lord Halifeor stated as he gestured to the paltry handful of guards that accompanied the lords and their families, wearing their colors and insignias across simple metal breastplates.

Lord Halifeor's wouldn't look out of place in the Holy Roman Empire. Black and blue checkered pattern with a white eagle crest. While Lord Caeywin's was obviously more elvish in design as a solid greenish gold with a silver tree crest. Their clothes also followed the color scheme as the elves wore the garish green-gold with the tree on their breast or skirts, and humans wore black with blue trims and accents with the eagle taking it's place same as the tree.

Since their arrival, and subsequent squatting, they've been ran ragged in either keeping their charges protected, such as now, or from trying to act as a flimsy wall in keeping his house staff out of their part of the manor.

"This could be an excellent opportunity to fill your ranks!"

The two lords looked at Morty like he just suggested eating shit.

"An... interesting idea."

"A practical one. You need bodies and weeding out the good from the bad at these competitions is what they're for aren't they?" Morty pushed.

The two lords looked at their sliver of a private army. Then at the two ogres that shadowed Morty constantly as well as his own Red Caps that seemed to glare and snarl at the guards whenever possible just to show that they were better than them. After a look between the two that said something Morty couldn't tell, the two nobles nodded and plastered their fake smiles once more.

"You are of course right. Lord Mortimer. Though our guards are better trained than the rabble, even the ones that would no doubt seek fame and glory from such competitions, we would not want to burden you're own... guards any further."

"Good! So the winners of the various martial competitions will fill in your guard." Morty declared more than asked. He doubt anyone of the winners would be a match for his own Red Caps so it wasn't like he was worried of some grand sword fighter showing up.

The lords nodded, though a bit less enthusiastic than before, and returned to their gorging. Morty was excited for this as well as once it's apparent that it's HIS fair, and not the nobles, he'll be the one to rake in the cash and glory from the whole thing! A cut of all sales would help pad out his bank account, and the distraction could help keep the peace in town for a time as well as show off his own armed forces skill and test out the noble goblins desires to tinker.

Morty couldn't help but chuckle as he muttered under his breath.

"Bread and games indeed."

-----

Molly's Pawnshop.

The Colonel was tired, today was worse than yesterday in regards to his new duty. As time went by and more and more people got cold and hungry, they got desperate. Desperate enough to already trying to muscle their way into local businesses with the intent of raiding them for food or kicking them out and claiming them for shelter.

While they were doing their best as always, they were GREATLY outmanned. Which became more and more obvious as his troops were worn ragged by the increasing volume of thieves and assaulters. The worst part was that they weren't even that bad, it was just the sheer amount that kept them from going after the actual problems.

He knew about the new gambling den/whorehouse. But he hasn't had a free enough moment to report it to Morty. When they manage to apprehend a cutpurse they get a report of another, when they break up a brawl another happens just down the street.

It was an exhausting duty, but one he was charged with and one he would fulfill to the best of his abilities. Though he was glad when he FINALLY had a chance to stop in and check on Molly. They still never had that 3rd date and he felt ashamed at leaving her for so long while he did his duty. But he could make up for that now, he thought as he dragged himself up to the doors of the pawnshop. Only to find them locked.

Not a concern, he thought as he went over to the stairs that led up to her home above the pawnshop. As he neared though, one of the guards he had stationed there informed him that she wasn't at home.

"Well where is she?"

"Said she was at the hospital."

"What?! What happened?!" The Colonel barked as he was worried that the guards had failed to do their jobs.

"Said something about seeing a friend!" The guard said hastily to avoid the Red Cap's wrath.

"Did she say what friend?"

The guard shook his head and the Colonel back down. At least she wasn't injured, he thought. Maybe he could go and see-

"STOP! THIEF!"

The Colonel sighed, and returned to his duty. Thoughts of Molly trudging to the back of his mind as he raced to where the alarm came from.