Chapter 49

New Rules

Thrush

I got my paws on some metal from the goblins. They had ripped the materials right out of the walls of their ships in exchange for Hawkin’s older beers. When the ice was going to melt in the spring, those ships were doomed. I said as much, but the goblins had bigger eyes for the beer, than for the future. So be it. Metals were important if we wanted to build big kettles for Hawkin to use. Bigger kettles meant more beer. More beer to sell meant that I could level up faster.

I had two weeks left of shipping beers to GloomGlower, per our agreement for the Fable Stone. Meanwhile, I was acquiring silver—and therefore shards—from the warm-spit beers we were selling. The goblins loved it. Though the grind was slow, I leveled up with nearly every sale.

Between trading the goblins, bartering, and shooting dice with Boggo, I’d become a level 9 Merchant with a level 8 in Bartering. Hawkin was leveling up faster than before. He was consuming a lot of mana beer as well.

Since we were both receiving quests almost on a daily basis, Hawkin’s supply seemed endless from the loot boxes he was receiving. I didn’t receive much in my loot chests except for skill books. Hawkin called my path a ‘paper’s path’ where almost everything has to do with interactions instead of ingredients or items. Thus my loot boxes were generally light, lately.

Another cold day gave value to the warm-spit beers which Boggo and the Blue Besties had come to love as well. Hawkin relied on it too. I should have been down in the cellar spending time with Boggo, but I was on the hunt. There was a creature in Hawkin’s woods. I heard it come near around nightfall a few nights ago, and then every night since. In the mornings, I heard them scamper away. I could smell them and I’m sure I knew who it was.

“Are you still after whatever you’ve been hearing?” Hawkin said, coming out from a plowed path in the woods with an arm full of logs. He dumped the logs and came to squat beside me as I watched the forest.

“Do you know what it is?” Hawkin said.

“I think it’s BarnacleEyes.”

“BarnacleEyes?”

“I can smell her a mile away.”

“She’s not lost, is she?”

“I doubt that.”

“She’s the creature you think that’s been out here for a few nights?”

“Without a doubt.”

“We should find her. She’s probably freezing to death.”

I led us through the snow and ice, eating, slashing, and ramming my way through. BarnacleEyes put up a bit of a chase but I eventually caught her and lifted her off the ground by her arm.

“Put me down!” BarnacleEyes spat.

“BarnacleEyes,” Hawkin said. “What are you doing here? Thrush said you’ve been here for the past few nights.”

“I-I was lost,” she said.

“She wasn’t lost,” I said. “I could smell that she’d been near the cabin and there’s only one way to and from the sea.”

“Is this true?” Hawkin said.

She shivered in her dress made of canvas and said nothing.

“Why don’t we all go inside,” Hawkin continued. “We’ll give you some food and some warm-warm root tea. How does that sound?”

Hawkin and I weren’t the only ones to bring something to the table. While we served food and drink, BarnacleEyes served us her life story. Hers was a tough story. The scar that crossed from forehead, over eye, and to her chin had been a result of her greatest battle.

BarnacleEyes smacked her pliers upon the table. The dishes rattled. She leaned in, and with one goblin-green finger, pulled down the bottom bag of her scarred eye. The wound she’d received had healed over completely, but left a nasty, barnacle looking collection of scars.

“GloomGlower led us on a raid!” BarnacleEyes said at the height of her story. “We raided human farms. One of the small humans attacked me with a saw. Right across my face.”

“That explains the scar,” Hawkin said. “You’ve lived quite the life, haven’t you? A harder life than most. Although impressive, that still doesn’t explain why you’ve been freezing to near death in my woods.”

BarnacleEyes frowned and said, “oh.”

I had the feeling then, that her story was meant to distract us from a larger issue. While I was enthralled by the goblin’s story, I suspected that Hawkin had been patiently waiting to hear why she was here in the first place. That’s where the last part of her story came into play. She went into detail about the circumstances that led her here until finally arriving at her destination.

“...I figured since you repaired my boots for me, and you said that I was helpful, I thought I’d come looking for work.”

“Why not GloomGlower.” I said.

Thus, BarnacleEyes’ dilemma, which she explained in length.

“So, you see,” she said. “This is my only chance to work somewhere where I have the most value.”

“You’re leaving your goblin family?” Hawkin said.

“I think it’s what I have to do,” BarnacleEyes said.

“You want to work with us?” I said.

“I was thinking that one of you could be the captain and I could run errands and do tasks. I can count. I can carry stuff. Remember when I helped you roll the barrels? I can roll things. I can make candles. I can steal. I can attack and defend anything!”

“I’m sorry,” Hawkin said. “I’m not a captain. I don’t have work for you. I don’t have a place for you to stay. Are you sure you wouldn't rather be with your kind?”

“I don’t need a place to stay,” BarnacleEyes said. “I can sleep outside. Or on the floor. And everybody needs work.”

“You might have a point,” I said. “Hawkin has been talking about how he’s running out of time to do basic things like make food and go fetch wood.”

“While that may be true,” Hawkin said, “It’s manageable. We’ll be building those kettles soon which will give me a lot of my time back.”

At that point, I kept silent and simply listened. For every reason that Hawkin had not to take in BarnacleEyes, she came up with something else she could do. They spent an hour talking back and forth until BarnacleEyes reached the limits of what she could do. Then she bared her heart.

“I feel like I have more value around you! I just want to work hard and be valued. That’s it—that’s all I want! GloomGlower and his goblins don’t value me! They throw me away whenever they’re done with me! They say I talk too much, but I don’t talk too much. SlimeTooth said I should be free to speak when I want to.”

BarnacleEyes crumpled, sniffled, and wiped the tears from her eyes in the following silence. Hawkin gave a weary sigh and looked at me for help.

“You’ve built a cabin before,” I said.

“Oh no,” Hawkin said. “No, no, no.”

“What’s one more cabin? BarnacleEyes could help you brew beers. Maybe look after the land. Defend your trees from lumbering. She could help forage. Collect firewood.”

“I’m getting the same list from you now,” Hawkin said. He gave another weary sigh. “How about this? You can stay as long as you’d like. If you want to help me around my cabin, that’s alright with me.”

“Really?’ BarnacleEyes said, now at the edge of her seat.

“If you ever want to leave and go back to your goblins, there’s nothing holding you back, ok?”

“I won’t go back.”

“Well the option and freedom will always be there. Also, you don’t ever have to work or help if you don’t want to. I will never expect you to do anything. You're free to do whatever you want.”

“Looks like you’re part of the team,” I said.

“Team?” Hawkin said.

“You can sleep on the floor with me,” I said, and gestured to the blankets rolled up a few feet away from the stove.

“How about we build BarnacleEyes a little shed,” Hawkin said firmly.

“Shed?” BarnacleEyes said.

“Yea,” Hawkin said. “Something maybe half this size. You can pick where you want it to go. We’ll build it for you as soon as we can.”

“Do you mean a cabin? Like yours?”

“Yea. It’ll be something for you to call home.”

“I’m not a Queen goblin. I’m not even a captain.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Hawkin said. “These are the new rules. Rule number one: You get your own shed.”

“What’s rule number two?” I said.

“Well that’s up to BarnacleEyes,” Hawkin said.

BarnacleEyes froze. Her mouth dropped open and hung there while her eyes widened.

“Does-does this mean I’m being promoted?” She finally said.

“What do you mean?” Hawkin said.

“First the boots; now I get my own cabin. You must be promoting me to captain at least!”

“Sure,” Hawkin said. “Why not?”

BarnacleEyes screamed in joy. She shrieked and skipped in place from foot to foot.

Over her din, I turned to Hawkin and asked, “doesn’t a captain need a ship?”

Hawkin shrugged. “We’ll build her a canoe or something.”