Strum reclined in a small chair, that he'd dragged into the new half-formed room carved out from the kitchen. Regis had begun to expand and hollow out more space using his essence. Strum wasn’t here to admire the beginning of what the dungeon had declared to be the “proper” restaurant. No. There was actual business to attend to.

He leaned back in the chair, letting out a soft yawn. Then the two figures he was waiting for made their way into the room.

Pox led first, puffed up chest and eyes scanning everything as if he suspected a trap. Yrx followed in behind, trying to hide in his brother’s shadow. Since they’d returned to the tribe, the two had done an admirable job of keeping their heads down.

Of course, Mallik apprehended them when they first returned, and Strum still didn’t know what they discussed with the shaman. But after they left that meeting, they hadn’t gone back. Instead, the two of them lounged around and did Ground-Father knows what with their time. Strum had enough on his plate without managing the twins, until now. He raised a hand in a gesture of peace. “I’m glad to see you two. You’re uh, completely fine right?”

He didn’t detect any sort of lingering curse or other magic left on the two by the shaman. Still. Better to ask and know for certain. Pox stiffened.

“He’s been lying to us! The filthy blasphemer! How dare he call himself a shaman—“

“Ah, well I uh, I told you as much.” Strum let out a sigh, glad to see the young goblin worked up. It meant this would be easier, at least. As long as they weren’t spies. He couldn’t be too sure, yet. “What did he say to you exactly?”

“I demanded to know why that horrid kobold was seen through the holy artifact! He told me I should have never touched it and demanded I grab the lash for my penance!” Pox snarled, a bit of spittle flying as he leaned forward. “I refused! And then he said that Ground-Father below would forbid me from entering the earth for my sin! What does he know of the Ground-Father’s will!”

“H-he’s a… filthy sinner,” Yrx said.

“How dare he—“

Strum rubbed the back of his neck as the goblins began to talk in circles, leaning back in the chair. He let it play out for a few minutes, seeing if they’d unintentionally reveal anything of actual interest. It didn’t take long to hit his limit. They weren’t going to say anything useful.

At least, from what he could tell, the two held genuine anger towards the shaman. At this point, he felt certain they likely weren’t intentional spies. But with an opponent as tricky as the shaman, Mallik may have found a more subtle method of using them.

Strum cleared his throat. “Have you thought about my, uh, offer?”

That shut them up. They exchanged a look, with Pox letting out an eventual huff, he stomped his foot and looked away. Yrx bowed his head and turned to face Strum, moving out behind his brother’s shadow.

“W-w have. We’ll d-do it. Y-you haven’t lied to us. And if Mallik said the dungeon was bad—and he was l-liar…”

“But we don’t have to like it!” Pox yelled out, stomping his foot for a second time.

Strum didn’t care that Pox held reservations. He didn’t feel the need to point out that since the two goblins just went against one of the leaders of the tribe, they had to get the dungeon’s support if they wished for any measure of peace. He firmly doubted Rurk would take the two under his wing; the chieftain preferred lackeys with brute strength.

He smiled at them. “Then uh, consider yourselves hired. Welcome. I’ll uh—I’ll give you a brief run-through before we meet the Chef. He’s uh. Well, a bit much.” Strum trailed off. He didn’t know if there was a real method to prep these two for interaction with Regis. It could be the dungeon drove them off after a few sentences. “But uh. Don’t worry. You’ll be working directly under me—not in the kitchen.” Maybe that would give them a reason to stick around. Hopefully.

The twins gave him a funny look.

Strum pointed to the small cave they were in. “This uh. Doesn’t look like much now, I know. But soon, it will be a full-fledged, er, restaurant dining area. This is where you’ll be working when it’s done. According to Regis, this should add to our efficiency and overall customer experience.”

More strange looks from those two.

“And we’ll train you to take orders, seat, and clean.”

“The Ground-Father d-does… respect obedience.” Yrx slowly nodded his head. Pox scoffed.

“Will we follow these orders, and they’ll lead us down the path of spiting on the Ground-Father again? Is that what this is an elaborate method to strip us of our belief—“

“No uh. There’s no intention regarding that—or any of this job. You uh, work, we’ll provide a place to sleep and regular meals from the kitchen.” Strum decided it was better to head off the temperamental goblin before Pox decided to lose it over something unimportant. There was a timeline to keep. And he already had their first job lined up. Not that it was actual work as a waiter or host. No. They were going to be doing manual labor to help speed along the construction process. “…How about we go and meet Regis now, then I can explain what you’ll be doing better. But uh, before that. Any other questions?”

“Fine! I do have another question. This job—will I be allowed to preach the Ground-Father’s holy name to perform his will!?

“You know what? Why not, I uh, can’t imagine it’d hurt.” All goblins worshiped the Ground-Father, so, it might even be a boon for business. For the first time since Strum freed the two of them, Pox gave the barest trace of a smile.

“Then perhaps I’ve been too quick to judge. You were right Yrx, this does seem to be a worthy mission. We shall be the missionaries of the Ground-Father in this ‘restaurant’!”

“I-I told you! It will… also be nice to eat… the food. I’ve h-heard good things.”

Strum gave them one last glance before climbing to his feet from the chair. It was always better to pull an arrow out of the body than to let it fester. If Regis didn’t scare them away, then just maybe this setup could actually work. Ground-Father, please let him be in a good mood.

“I do not understand how it is your pea-sized brain can manage to comprehend when he tells you the importance of bashing garlic before mincing it, yet refusing to do such a simple and straightforward ask when it was I that had made the request.” Regis shook in the middle of the kitchen. After a couple of days of this ‘training’, he’d had more than enough of Gikx’s rapid growth. He’d expected this imbecile to fall flat on his face. Sure, it meant that the goblin would have put the kitchen in a bad position, and technically he should be rooting for Gikx’s success.

But he’d already adjusted his plans to account for the failure. Pursuing opening the actual restaurant, with an idea to appeal to the dwarves in the near future. As long as they fended off Rurk for long enough, it might have worked.

What he didn’t expect was that Gikx managed to pick up more and more new skills with Vraz’s teaching.

It should’ve been impossible. Gikx was far too dumb for such a thing. Far too idiotic to even wield a knife properly. Where was the scrawny goblin that fucked up time and time again? Even more annoying was the fact that Gikx now just ignored him. In his own kitchen! The nerve of that little pipsqueak!

The fire runes flared.

Gikx snorted and leaned back into chopping onions. Vraz sat behind him, a lopsided smirk on his face as he looked at Regis.

“Seems my student is doing better than expected. Say, Chef. How good do you think Rurk is at cooking? Can’t be that skilled right? Don’t imagine him even cutting his food with anything less than a cleaver, let alone knowing the importance of uniform bites.”

“Do not delude yourself into thinking that this worm stands any chance of success. He will surely fail—“

Strum strode into the kitchen with those two twins at his heel. Regis had watched them pass through silently when they first trespassed and had let Vraz guide them to the manager. They weren’t enough to catch his interest.

At least with Strum here, he might manage to tuck away that irritation lingering on his mind that Gikx was doing fine. Slowly Regis floated over to his general manager. “Ah, you’ve come back from the dining side already? My domain is increasing nicely, in a few days I predict I’ll have carved it out to an adequate size. Then it will just need to be connected to the main cavern for ease of customers. Given we don’t have a proper front of house staff, we’ll have to have Vraz go and interact with—“

“Uh, about that. Front of house—that means your waiters and er, hosts and…”

“Busboys, bartenders, food runners—yes, yes. The list goes on Strum. There are plenty of staffing issues to resolve in the future, and I expect you to fulfill my requirements in a timely manner. I believe the best method shall be to produce a job posting, then you may interview for the roles. It’s the traditional—“

“Er. Well. I have these two.” Strum nodded towards the twins. One of them stepped out, his chest puffed up in an annoyingly overconfident way. He ran a thumb over his nose and sneered.

“Do you pay homage to the Ground-Father, sinner?”

“What?”

“I asked if you’ve heard the name of the one and only true god! And if you pay him the proper respect he deserves!” the goblin took a step closer to Regis, far too bold.

“Who is this utter moron?” Regis floated away. Perplexed. It’d heard mutterings of the idol of these goblins before, sure. But never had one approached with a mention of their ‘deity,’ as if he’d care or have the time to consider such things.

“Er. That’s not necessary, Pox. Uh. Dungeons work differently than goblins. They’re a part of the Ground-Father’s will for this earth. As you well know. Meaning, in an uh, way, working under Regis is like working for the Ground-Father.”

“What is this utter drivel? I don’t care at all over your deity.”

Pox paused, looking between Strum and the dungeon with a scrunched-up face. Before jerking a finger towards Regis. “If that’s true, why’s it such a filthy blasphemer?”

“B-brother. Not a-all see the light as sharply as us,” the second goblin intruded, getting between Pox and Regis. Which was good. If this stupid goblin kept going on about foolish things, he might put that layabout Wort to good use and force this strange goblin away from him.

Yrx bowed his head. “M-mad dungeon. W-we’re happy to be in your service.”

“Strum. Explain. What does this creature mean?”

“I found an uh, a waiter, and a host.”

“Unacceptable. They didn’t even complete an application, let alone did you conduct an interview where I could witness to see if they were suitable for the role. We’re trying to run a functioning restaurant with highly competent staff, not a circus.” Wort belched by the oven, rolling over and rubbing his stomach. There were a couple of loaves in the oven with quite some time left to cook, so perhaps Regis had been a bit lax with his baker and may have let the hobgoblin nap. That didn’t change his professional standards.

Strum firmed up, his eyes digging into the crystal. Regis felt a stirring over their bond. Was that… Annoyance?

“You told me I would uh, manage the front of the house.”

“I did. However, you lack the required knowledge of restaurant operations at the moment to make the qualified decisions for optimal success in this industry. I’m sure given time and my careful instructions your experience will reach a level where you can maintain and conduct affairs with little oversight, but until then I’ll assist in your training.”

“That is unacceptable.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve made a bond. I’m your most loyal servant. So you’ve said again and again. The only goblin you trust with anything. I’ve bled for you, I’ve put myself in danger on your behalf, and if you die I die.” Strum’s eyes flared, his skin sparking with a dangerous glow as fire ran through his veins. “I demand respect. I am not your tool. I am not your puppet to command as you see fit. This is a partnership!”

He yelled that last bit. Throwing Regis into a state of shock. Where was this sudden anger boiling up from? Hadn’t he treated his manager well? “I… Yes, I suppose this could be considered more of a partnership…” Strum had been there from the very start. From when Regis had no awareness at all. His essence was what brought Regis back to life.

“I am the manager of your ‘front of house’ or whatever you call it. Those under my employ, are mine. I hire who I see fit, and I am the one to determine whether or not they’re capable of working in this restaurant. Is that understood!?”

“…That is…” What the hell was happening? “Acceptable?”

Strum stared at him for a long moment, before jerking his head towards the twins. “Yrx, Pox. This is Regis. You will be interacting with his kitchen staff, but do not forget that you answer to me. Not him. Now come on, we’re going to find two uh, picks. Your first job is to help the dungeon mine out the seating area.”

With a gesture, Strum left with the two goblin twins in tow. Regis watched them leave, bewildered and taken aback. Unsure of how to feel, or what to think.