“It’s a town.”

“Well, gee thanks. That really clears it up, Gina.” Kraant rolled his eyes as Gina tossed a couple small food-animals by the fire. She hadn’t cleaned or skinned them, so he assumed they’d been incidental to the mission and she’d killed them on the way back. Either way, the meat was pretty tasty, so he didn’t mind prepping them… they were, after all, “food animals”, not “skill-raising animals”. Technically, “critters”, but the point was that they wouldn’t raise even Survivalist skills by being killed, butchered, cooked, or turned into leather. They were just… sustenance. Ambience. Irrelevant.

“I mean, it’s got an economy, there’s a hierarchy of authority… the town guard wears a special emblem, even. And I think they’re the only ones allowed to wear weapons, but it might just be that they’re the only ones who feel a need to. They’re the most peaceful, and most organized, goblins I’ve ever seen.”

“…So we shouldn’t kill them?”

“Not unless we can get them all at once. Even then… I know they’re Dark, but I’m not super-jazzed by the idea of unprovoked genocide.”

“Cool. Me neither.” Kraant stood up and stretched. Pebl spat a Splash on the fire pit, and they both headed toward the town.

“What the ever-loving Gonads of Kuo do you think you’re doing?” Gina asked tartly.

“Shopping. You need anything while we’re in town?” Kraant responded almost offensively casually.

“A new goddamn party, if you’re planning to just waltz into a Goblin township!”

“Nah, we’ll be fine. I’m technically Void-aspected at the moment, and Pebl has a decent stock of Dark mana, so we’re neutral at the very least. You might have trouble, but he and I can buy some supplies and ask around for news. It’ll be, like, a day at worst before we come back, or else I’ll message you from the Altar of Undeath.”

“…I need at least 7 new arrow shafts, but no arrowheads. And some spices.”

“Done.”

It wasn’t anything special, Kraant noted. The buildings were rather lower to the ground than in a normal village, but goblins were somewhat shorter than most ‘normal’ races. He noticed that the hygiene was actually noticeably better than any other city he’d dealt with, and that there weren’t any beggars or even noticeable classes. Each goblin wore essentially the same clothing, and while none of it was as fine as his magic robe, it was all better than the rags he’d been expecting.

“You, sir, want a Magic Orb. I can tell.” A crone called from the other side of the street. “Orgal has what you need, about four minute’s walk to the east.”

He nodded his head in thanks, and angled his path. How in the 18 Transcendental Horrors had she known he wanted a magic focus? But, lo and behold, a few minutes later Pebl started vibrating in his pocket. The familiar wasn’t floating along, so as not to draw any more attention than the Kobold would do anyway, but Kraant sensed a sort of second-hand resonance with magic inside a shop. He immediately turned and went inside.

The interior of the shop was huge, much much larger than the outside would lead one to believe. It was also packed, floor to rafters, with shelves of items both magical and mundane. He saw sulfur-tipped matches next to gems infused with the same Spark spell that Pebl used so often. He saw a Potion of Waterbreathing, level 8/10, next to a glass bowl labeled as “Eternal Air Pocket”. He was… overwhelmed.

“Ah, good, this way please.” A smug voice called from the counter to his right, and Kraant barely even noticed as he wandered that way, still looking around him in wonder.

“Yes, you’d be the Koboldish Life Magus, yes?” a seated goblin asked Kraant, without looking up from a ledger.

“Yes, I suppose so.” Kraant tore his eyes away from the bounty surrounding him and studied the shopkeep. Squat, green, spindly limbs and long fingers… definitely a Goblin.

“Good. Where’s the rock?”

“…Uhm, here.” Kraant mentally prodded Pebl, who reluctantly rose out of his pocket and floated to the counter.

“Good. Any others?”

“…Other whats?”

“Familiars, you daft dragonling!” The shopkeep looked up from his tome to glare at Kraant, revealing that his eyes were both missing entirely.

“No..? Can’t I only have one?”

“Fuck no, who told you that? You can have one per tier, plus one per Summon: Familiar spell you’ve learned.”

“…Huh. I wish I’d known that before. How would I contract with other familiars, if I can’t use the spell?”

“Normally you’d learn the spell by making a contract, but since you have it already, you can either try to learn it again the natural way, which I won’t help you with, or you can just cast the spell again. If you do manage to cast it naturally, though, that counts as learning the spell anew and you’ll still have a slot free from your tier 1 Magus class.”

“…Huh. Thank you.”

“No problem. Now. I assume you want to sell that rotting stick and buy a proper staff, eh? As well as some basic traveling supplies, it’s a long way from the Capital.”

“Uh. Yeah, please.”

“Good manners. This way.” The goblin hopped off its (his?) stool and strode off down the maze of shelves, and Kraant hurried to follow. He suspected getting lost in here might be a death sentence, if the shopkeep didn’t bother to save him.

They took a twisting, turning path that felt like at least a mile to Kraant, who had gotten good at judging such things, while the shopkeep took items from shelves seemingly at random, and always without looking. Eventually they wound up back at the counter, somehow, and Kraant was looking at an odd pile.

“That’s seven ashwood arrow shafts, with Golden Owl fletching, two potions of Greater Restore Mana and two of Greater Restore Health, a Souls Crystal, a Staff of the Wandering Druid, a pair of blankets, a nice-looking brooch that stores light and can release it at the wearer’s will, two cloaks of Dark-aspected wool that smell vaguely of half-forgotten memories, and about three ounces each of cinnamon, peppercorns, salt, and sugar. And in return, you offer..?”

“Um.” Kraant placed the Shin of Trent on the counter, along with almost all of his money.

“That’s… you have no idea how much any of this is worth, do you?” the shopkeep sighed.

“I have literally never bought anything with money, and I haven’t seen the like of most of these wares…” Kraant offered a plausible excuse. He knew barter was a common system outside the main cities.

“Here.” The goblin divided about two-thirds of Kraant’s money, and the Shin of Trent, and pushed the rest back towards him. “You can either take this and hope it’s fair, or try to haggle with no idea what anything is worth.”

“I’ll take your pity, thanks.” Kraant immediately recognized that he was probably being fleeced, but that he would be lucky to escape with half this much and any of his money if he tried to lower the price.

“Good choice. I actually gave you a deal, only 20% profit for me. I like your honesty, kid. Now get out of here before the Hobb gets word of your presence.”

“I will. Go in peace.” Kraant instinctively bowed, slightly, and Pebl flashed a sort of… un-light over the shop, that instantly faded away.

Blessing: Kue’s Embrace

This place is under Kue’s watch, and any who approach with hostile intent will be utterly unable to locate it. The owner, and any recognized by Kue, are the only ones able to dispel this blessing. Will not interfere with any previous or future blessings, except as noted.

Note: Overrides Kue’s Touch

“Huh! Thanks.” The shopkeep bowed to Pebl, and seemed a bit lost in thought as they left. Kraant decided not to tempt fate, and immediately headed back toward the city gates.

“Halt, Minion of Life! The Hobb demands your presence.” Two guards stood directly in the center of the next intersection, and Kraant was far too unique to escape their eyes.