Urt returned huffing and puffing, dragging a bag nearly as big as he was along the ground behind him. It was filled almost to the point of bursting with jars of multicolored powders and vials of potions that bubbled and frothed like living creatures trying to escape.

Additionally, there were sticks, roots and branches covered in glowing leaves that Badax suspected as having come from the Mistress’ private gardens.

If that was the case, the minotaur had to admire the goblin’s balls – metaphorically speaking, of course –the Mistress made it quite clear that any minions caught pilfering from her private greeneries would meet a slow, torturous end.

Badax raised an eyebrow as Urt reached into the bag. With a grunt of effort, the goblin pulled out a mortar and pestle that was bigger than his head alongside a small scale. Both were marked with the Mistress’ insignia – a small diamond with a pair of eyes in the center – and chased away any remaining wisps of doubt Badax might have had as to the origin of the bag’s contents.

“How’d you get past the Gardeners?” Badax asked.

The Gardeners were patchwork monstrosities of bone and black iron plating tasked with keeping the gardens secure. They carried flaming swords and had three sets of glittering eyes that were said to be capable of seeing in all directions at once. So far as Badax knew, nobody had ever managed to sneak past them.

Urt grinned before looking back and forth suspiciously, as if he truly expected the fucking walls to grow some ears or something and listen in.

“I didn’t get past them,” he whispered. “I bribed them.”

“Horns and hooves, how’d you manage that?”

“Sorry, big guy. Can’t tell you that or I’d have to kill you. Now, lay back. I’m going to clean the outside of the wound first and I don’t want to have to climb all the way up there to do it.”

Badax did as directed and turned his head so that he could watch Urt crush up the ingredients. The pestle was so big compared to the goblin’s arms that the little minion struggled to wield it, but with an expression of grim determination, he worked with a steady cadence.

Now and then, the goblin would climb back into the bag to secure another ingredient, tossing out the ones he didn’t want the way the tunnel moles threw dirt behind themselves whenever they expanded the lair’s mazes.

By the time he declared the healing salve finished, there was a soupy mess of brown liquid in the bottom of the mortar that smelled absolutely horrid and a pile of priceless materials littering the floor. Urt dabbed some of the concotion on a rag and turned to Badax. His skin was slightly purple which meant that he was nervous, but Badax didn’t pay it much mind.

“Now, it’s not unexpected that a concoction of this nature might lead to a temporary sensation of discomfort in the affected region that you might find unpleasant.”

“What?”

Urt sighed.

“This is going to sting a little bit, okay?”

Badax nodded and closed his eyes. The goblin hopped up on his chest, whistling merrily.

“Ready? Here we go.”

The rag pressed against Badax’ side and pain almost as bad as the original wound itself filled the minotaur’s senses. He howled like a heartbroken werewolf, knocking Urt to the ground with a wide sweep of his arm.

Sitting up with a snarl, Badax looked down and saw that the “healing” paste was sizzling on his skin. It’d turned white for some reason, and Badax almost had to literally sit on his hands to keep from wiping it off.

He glared at Urt.

“You’re a damn liar,” he growled.

With a shrug, Urt crawled back over to the mortar and pestle and grabbed some more of the vile paste. “If you’d gotten treated right away it wouldn’t have been so bad. Don’t go blaming me for your own follies.”

Twice more the cream was applied to Badax’ wound, and twice more he yowled at the pain. None of his neighbors came to check on him, and the minotaur found himself equally grateful and frustrated by that fact. It was good that they wouldn’t see him like this, but at the same time, what else were they doing? Didn’t they care about him at all?

Probably not, said a little voice inside Badax’ head. Why should they? You’ve only been neighbors for thirty years.

The thought didn’t do much to help his mood.

When Urt was done with the paste, he whipped up a smoking potion and ordered Badax to drink it. The liquid tasted like sweet potatoes mixed with dirt, but the minotaur choked it down all the same and was secretly relieved when it didn’t cause him additional pain.

“Is that it?” Badax asked as Urt started cleaning his equipment with another rag.

“Should be. I made a second dose that you should drink in a half hour to make sure everything was nullified and canceled, but I expect that you’ll be fine. You can say thanks whenever.”

“Huh,” said Badax. “That really wasn’t too bad. Thanks, Urt.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then a popup appeared in front of Badax’ face.

[You are no longer poisoned! Would you like to commend Urt for his help? Cost: 100 reward points. You currently have 28,472 reward points!]

“I’ve never understood the point of these things,” Badax muttered as he went to press ‘Yes’. Before he could reach it though, Urt squealed and held up his hands.

“Wait, wait, wait! Don’t do it! If you commend me, the Mistress will get the logs and I’ll be killed!”

Stopping, Badax stared at the notification for a moment longer. There was a red outline around the word ‘No’ that blinked continuously, and the longer he looked at it, the angrier he got.

“What? That doesn’t sound right. Why would she kill you? What do you mean by get the logs?”

Urt rolled his eyes. “If you commend me, the Mistress will get a report on what just happened. It’ll have all the details of your poisoning, as well as the information about how I helped you. Since goblins aren’t supposed to have access to any of the stuff I used, she’ll know that I raided her private gardens, and then she’ll kill me after figuring out how I bribed the Gardeners. Skinless stomachs, Badax, don’t you even know how commendations work?”

Badax thought for a moment. It’d been…a long time since the Mistress introduced the reward points. So long, in fact, that he didn’t remember the specifics. The only things he could recall were the Floor Boss introducing them by reading something from a scroll and being bored out of his horns as he sat and listened.

Sadly, neither of those memories were particularly helpful just then.

No matter how they worked, the minotaur hadn’t ever needed to pay attention to the reward points before. Once in a while, a notification like the one before him now popped up, and he’d found that the quickest and easiest way to make it go away was to just press ‘yes’.

He said as much, and Urt asked how many points Badax was sitting on. When the minotaur told him, it was the goblin’s turn to wail. And sob, because goblins aren’t exactly known for their emotional toughness.

“I can’t believe you,” sniffled Urt as he wiped a fat tear from his eyes and blew his nose directly into his hands. “The commendation system was introduced by the Mistress to improve minion relationships and camaraderie. She checks them all herself to make sure none of the mini-bosses get any funny ideas before they’re approved, but they can be redeemed for all sorts of cool stuff down at the commissary.”

“Like what?”

“Like booze! Or treasures…but mostly booze! I could have been drinking like a King this whole time instead of risking skin and snot to steal the swill out of your cabinet! Argh!”

The goblin had turned bright orange, and was stamping his feet on the ground as he ranted. Badax smiled at the sight, and waited for his friend to run out of steam. Slowly, Urt returned to his normal color, and he seemed rather subdued as the last remnants of his anger faded.

It was a good thing, too, for the sorcerous clock on Badax’ wall – a much smaller version of the one in the mini-boss station – chimed once and the goblin jumped into the air.

“Shit, it’s time for my shift down in the garbage sorting room,” he cried. “I’ll be back later! Make sure you drink that second dose of potion, and hide my bag if anyone else comes by.”

Before Badax got a chance to respond, the goblin sprinted out of the room.