“Did you hear what happened last night? Nasty business!” the innkeeper says in greeting as we step up to the counter. A number of goblins are already seated in the dining room, not a few of them giving me looks that can, at best, be described as unsavoury. They’re looking at me in the same way you’d look at a loosened tiger. Suspicion. That’s it. 

 

“What business?” I say, somehow managing to not stammer. From the corner of my eye, I notice a few of the patron’s eyes widening a little at my fluent speech. 

 

She shakes her head, handing me a pitcher of beer. For breakfast. Excuse me?

 

“Oh, it’s a right story. Old Tiller’s serf—this young, pretty lass—went missing. Took a good lot of his harvest, too. And to make things even worse, she stole one of my patron’s sprint drakes to get away as well! Can you believe it? And I always thought her a mature, well-bred girl.” Her eyes gleam, turning to look at me. “You didn’t happen to notice anyone enter the stables, Sir Tallthing?”

 

I glance away. “Eh, uh… Nope. Nothing like that.”

 

The smile slips off her face. “Oh, well. I suppose a lassie running off with a bunch of crops isn’t an inch as interesting as whatever you’ve seen.”

 

Maybe not. Taking the brew, I head off to the table Simel’s sitting at. His wooden bowl is filled with mainly stew, alongside a piece of bread. Same as myself, that is. I sit down across from him, putting my large mug of beer next to the one he has. He’s already half emptied his own, though. And he’s made good progress on the little bowl of brandy the innkeeper brought us. It’s not something I’ve seen before, but it’s basically just a small bowl of what seems to be brandy with a single spoon in it. Going by how Simel uses it, you’re meant to just take a spoonful, drink it, and then put the spoon back in the bowl. 

 

Uh, yeah, I’m not doing that. Even drinking an entire mug of beer first thing in the morning is a bit…

 

Then again, technically speaking, this isn’t even beer, because it isn’t made with malt or wheat or anything like that. It’s just that the process is basically the same, and the taste is very similar, so that’s what I’m calling it. Same with the brandy.

 

I look at Simel. He doesn’t look up at me. “So, uh,” I say. “Did you hear about that nasty business with the—the… serf?” 

 

He takes a shot of brandy, wipes his mouth on his shirt, and gives me a look that shuts me up in an instant. I look away from him, accidentally meeting the eyes of one of the goblins in the inn. They look away. When I look at another one, it doesn’t want to make eye contact either.

 

Right. R—right.

 

We finish breakfast, returning the bowls and things to the innkeeper. I clear my throat and glance at Simel. “Now, I’m not sure if we have money, but…”

 

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, dearie!” she says, beaming. What the heck did she just call me? “Just being able to meet a human is payment enough. Besides, it’s not often you get to lodge a man like his grace in our stable, of all places.” She gives a wink. “When the bards come asking for all the details to tell your tales, I’ll be sure to tell them all about it—you’ve got my word!”

 

“...Okay?” Since I don’t really know what else to say, I thank her for the lodging, and then we head out again.

 

The next time we get to a village, Simel doesn’t want to enter it. Rather, he makes us walk in a wide arc around it. Or, well, he makes me walk it, since he’s still too hurt to walk. He also refused to eat the grains I presented him with. Sometimes, I really don’t understand this man. 

 

We make it along pretty well, though. When he doesn’t see it, I often sneak back to steal a bit of food and grain from the villages we pass.

 

Eventually, we reach the next city. This time, Simel is okay with us entering it, but he gives me a long look before we do. Also, unlike the last time, I put on a proper disguise before we enter. For some reason, being recognised as a human felt weird. I’m much more used to this, although Simel didn’t seem to like me wearing it. We spent a day or two in the city, and then Simel insisted on us leaving again.

 

And that’s how it went, mostly. We avoided villages, spent only a brief time in cities, and then continued. And just like that, three months passed.

 

It would probably have gone a lot faster if we’d ‘borrowed’ a drake or hitched a ride on a caravan or whatever, but Simel always seemed against it. Nevertheless, I didn’t really have anything against carrying him much of the way, so it was alright. 

 

Three months, and we have finally reached the port city of Ullum. 

 

“You mean to tell me that the next boat to Yattisbay leaves in two weeks?” 

 

The guy on the pier—some old sailor-looking dude—merely shrugs. “That’s the best you’ll get at this time ‘a year. Frankly, lad, you’re lucky any boat’s leaving at all, what with the whole war business brewing.” He takes a puff of some sort of glass pipe I still haven’t gotten a proper explanation of. “Nothing’s stopping you from going there by carriage. Shouldn’t take more than a month or so to travel there by land.”

 

I wipe at my face, unfortunately only wiping at the face I’m wearing. “Okay, listen. I’ll get you twice the money if you take us there, like, today. You need vira? We’ve got vira aplenty. That not good enough for you? I’ve got plenty! I’ve got lent, ore, fra, holdings… name your price. Come on.”

 

He looks me up and down, his thick eyebrows quirking a little. “You’ve been places, haven’t you?”

 

Okay, that’s it. That’s it. I can’t—

 

Simel glances at me. I return his look. Seriously? Ugh, okay, okay, fine. I turn back to the old sailor. “Fine. Okay. We’ll go when you go. How much are you asking for?” He holds up his hand, showing four green fingers. “What, four vira?” He shakes his head. No way. “You can’t seriously expect me to pay four vire for a simple boat ride.” He shakes his head again. I can feel my eye twitching. “Now just you hold on. Viru? Are you serious? Four viru?”

 

“Do you know any other boats leaving for Yattisbay?”

 

Oh. Oh. Is that how he wants to play? Is that it? Oh, I’ll—

 

Simel shakes his head at me. Damn it. Every time. Leaning down, I turn to him. “Listen, four viru is enough to get us to the other side of the continent and back in a featherdrake-drawn carriage. You really think we should be spending that sort of cash on this scammer, just because he’s got the only ship leaving for the empire? Come on. Let’s just walk there. Hell, if it’ll convince you, I’ll even carry you all the way there!”

 

He simply shakes his head. Ugh. 

 

I take a deep, relaxing and not at all sharp breath as I stand up to face the sailor once more. “Okay. Okay. You know what? Fine. Four viru? Great. Wonderful. I’ll have it ready in two weeks’ time. Does that satiate you, hound?”

 

He looks at me, and I can tell by the look in his eye that he knows I haven’t got any better choice than this. The fact that I’m well over two heads taller than him doesn’t matter in the least. A predatory smile tugs at his lips. “Sorry, but not quite, lad. Lots of people want to go with old Frilla. I’m afraid I’ll need the payment by tomorrow at the latest, assuming you want to have a proper place on the boat and not get dragged by the rudder.”

 

My claws twitch. Not thinking about much of anything, my mouth slowly closes, and I turn to look around. The harbour isn’t exactly empty, but nobody’s paying attention to us. This is far from the marketplace closer to the city centre. I turn back to the sailor, and I can see the look on Simel’s face, but it doesn’t matter too much. 

 

I take a step forward and grab the old sailor by the collar, lifting him into the air as I do, bringing his face closer to mine. His eyes widen a smidge and I glare right into them. “I’ll get you your money,” I growl, “but if you try to leave the city without us, I’ll find you. I’ve got your scent. And by the time I’ve got you, you’ll wish you took us there for free. Got that?” 

 

His face doesn’t even twitch. “Sure,” he says, cool as a cucumber. “As long as you’ve got the money, there’s no need to fret.” 

 

I continue glaring at him for a second or two before dropping him, though he unfortunately falls perfectly on his feet, not even a little scuffed.

 

Seething, I turn on my heel, Simel following after. 

 

“Can you believe that? Four viru for a measly boat ride! Why, I should just…” I catch a glimpse of his eyes and pause. “—Yeah. Yeah, I know. Still, I’m really…” I shake my head, trying to scatter the anger. “You’re too soft, Simel. Those kinds of guys don’t deserve anything like that.” He looks at me again and I shrug. “I know, sure, but we could find someone else to drive the boat. No, wait, steer the boat. That’s the word. I mean, this is a port city, right? I’m sure they’ve got more captains than they do barmaids!” I frown for a moment. “No, wait, scratch that. Port city or no, it’s still a city. Forget I said anything.”

 

We continue walking. We had been living at an inn for the past couple of days, but if we have to stay here for two entire weeks we may need something more…

 

I look at Simel. Simel looks at me.

 

“I wasn’t going to!” I say, but he already knows. He always already knows. I don’t know when he learned to read my thoughts, but it no longer scares me. “Still, I do think that…”

 

We step into the marketplace. It’s bustling. More than usual. People are crowding by, chattering in hushed tones amongst each other. All I hear from the snippets of conversation is, “Execution,” and “Human,” and “Child-eater,” and that’s all I need to hear. I share a look with Simel and we allow ourselves to be pushed along by the stream. Being taller than the goblins, I have a good look at it all quite far ahead of time, giving me an excellent view of the platform before we actually reach it. 

 

It’s large and wooden, raised high enough for all to see, and atop it stands a goblin dressed all in WHITE, holding an axe. Next to said goblin is a man. Not a male goblin, nothing like that. A human man.

 

An actual human. 

 

The fact that it’s a human isn’t completely self-evident, because at this time, said human is hunched over, head lowered onto a wooden pillory. He’s completely naked, allowing his pink skin and long limbs and stubby ears to be on full display to the horrified populace. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been too attached to the whole being-human deal, but hearing dozens—if not hundreds—of goblins around me, whispering in jeering tones about how horribly disfigured this human man is isn’t too good for my self-image, not that it was any good to begin with.

 

As I stand, watching the sight, the goblin clad in WHITE speaks. “This reprehensible Tallthing, this human, accused of the crime of stealing and eating the children of Ullum, has hereby been sentenced to death by beheading! And for those gathered who have never before seen a being such as this, do not be fooled by the REDness of its blood! These humans, as they call themselves, are not so much goblin as they are beast. A human burnt the city of Acheron! A human brought war to this peaceful continent! And this human that stands before us stole and ate children! For that, it shall now find penance in death!”

 

Huh. Stole and ate children? 

 

I wipe the drool from my chin. Didn’t know there was another man of taste in this city. Maybe I should have been more observant? 

 

“P—please!” the guy shouts. The human guy, that is. “I don’t—I don’t know what’s happening! Does anybody here speak English? Oh, God, please, I didn’t do anything, I was just passing through, I have no idea what—”

 

“Listen to its incomprehensible language, crafted by no god! Hear the sounds of its sinful throat, bobbing and clucking like a layegg!” The goblin in White raises the axe. “Now we shall see if it still speaks without it!” 

 

With impressive strength, the goblin brings down the axe on the guy’s neck. It got an inch in at most before getting stopped. The guy obviously screams because duh, but the goblin actually had to lift the axe again to do a retry, and then another, and then yet another. By the point his head rolls, the goblin has been hacking at him several dozens of times.

 

I turn to Simel. “See, that’s what you get when you try beheading a guy with inherent cheat skills and armour and stuff. All the humans who have reached this place naturally have really high levels, so honestly, executing them at all is kind of dumb. Like, they’re here to fend off the god of kings’ minions, so why get rid of them?” A little idea strikes me. “You know something? Back in the day, on earth, sometimes instead of killing a guy, they’d just brand him for life. You know, so everybody could see that they were a criminal? Very effective. Just like with your lizard!”

 

Simel eyes me with an odd look in his eye.

 

I shrug. “Just an idea, of course. Nothing more to it.”