Merchant Crab

Balthazar picked out the nicest sunny spot right by the shore of the pond. The large umbrella was firmly placed into the sand and open over a colorful towel laid out half covered by the shade. The stage was set.

Crushing a whole lemon in his right pincer, the crab let its juice flow into a cup full of sugar, before carefully mixing it all with a tiny spoon delicately held in his left pincer. Once done, he stuck a little straw into it and topped it all off with a miniature umbrella on the cup.

Carrying his fresh glass of lemonade in his silver claw and a plate of cookies in the other, Balthazar skittered back to the towel, where his brand new book already awaited him.

Scooting himself down comfortably onto the towel, golden carapace left exposed to the sun, his face and claws under the shade of the large umbrella, he was ready to begin his reading, cookie chomping, and lemonade slurping.

“Hmm… finally, some me time.”

Balthazar sipped through the straw, took a nibble at one of the cookies, and opened his book on local geography and territories to page one.

“Hi? Hello? Anybody home?”

A young girl was timidly standing at the trading post’s entrance, looking for a response over the tables and crates that filled the area.

“Argh, I hate adventurers,” Balthazar muttered to himself, as he stood up from his towel and begrudgingly left his book and snack behind.

“Oh, h-hi, good day, mister crab. I’m sorry to bother you, I hope I’m not interrupting,” the shy girl said, concern dancing on her eyebrows.

“Noooo, not at all!” Balthazar loudly exclaimed. “I’m here to serve. What could I possibly be doing that would be more important than trading junk with you fine adventurers? Nothing, I say!” The merchant took a quick breath in. “So, what’s it gonna be, young lady?”

“O-okay,” the girl hesitantly said, looking unsure of how to interpret what she had just heard. “I’m new around here, and… and some of the other adventurers told me I should go explore the plains for now, but stay away from the forest. Then they told me there was a talking crab over by the road that would trade whatever loot I got. I… I take it that’s you?”

She was certainly new, that much Balthazar could tell. Fresh level 1. Where all those new adventurers kept appearing from was a question that kept bugging him.

“Me?” the monocled crab said. “No, no, no. That’s a different talking crab further down the road. I’m the talking crab that sings and dances.” The girl stared at him, blinking. “Of course that’s me! Look around, can’t you tell? Now, you got something for me, or what?”

Startled by the cranky crab’s outburst, the young girl quickly fumbled through her satchel, looking for something.

“I-I’m not sure you’ll buy these. They’re all I got as loot from the plains.” She revealed a small bundle of rabbit’s feet held together with a string. “They’re luck charms, I think.”

The crab inhaled and did his best not to roll his eyes.

“Four gold coins. No haggling,” he said, turning around to fetch the money from a coin purse.

As he was picking four coins out of the purse with his silver pincer, an uncommon feeling itched in the back of his brain. A slight sense of guilt.

The girl was clearly new around there and did nothing wrong to him. Perhaps he was being too harsh and bad tempered with her.

He imagined Madeleine’s disapproving gaze if she could see him right there and then, being so grumpy to an innocent young girl just because he wanted to read and sunbathe.

“Hey, look, girl,” Balthazar said, as he turned back to the girl with the coins in his pincer, “I should probably…”

The confused crab stopped as he saw the young girl staring at her feet, cheeks bright red, biting her lip to contain her smile.

“Is… there something wrong?” he hesitantly asked.

“No, no. Gosh, I should be apologizing. I’m making such a fool of myself. It’s just that everything is so new and exciting, and I haven’t gotten used to any of it. And then I come here, and I just wasn’t expecting you to be… to be… so cool!”

Balthazar stood perplexed in front of the girl, coins held in his pincer, in an awkward moment of silence.

“What?” he finally said.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing,” the girl said, avoiding eye contact with the crab, the blushing taking over her entire face. “I should go. Thanks!”

Quickly taking the four coins from his hanging pincer and leaving the charms on the table, the girl took off, running back to the plains across the road.

Balthazar watched her leave, completely befuddled. “What the hell was that all about?”

Still processing the exchange, the crab started making his way back to his towel.

He had been entirely too rude to her. Unfairly so, even. And yet, she seemed to think he was… cool? She was impressed by him? He couldn’t rationalize the how or why of that.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Charisma,” Balthazar muttered to himself. “Don’t tell me…”

Like old, rusty cogs and gears moving inside his shell, thoughts began fitting together. The golden upgrade to his shell gave him +5 in the Charisma skill, which was now at an S. The skill mentioned being likable and charming to people he interacts with.

“Could that have been…” he thoughtfully said, while rubbing his chin with his silver claw. “But I’m sure I already was very likable before… Or was I?”

As much as Balthazar hated to admit it, even if just to himself, he was concluding that maybe his brand new golden look was doing a lot more for his charm than his winning personality ever did.

Indeed, humans were strange, superficial creatures, if a dumb skill from some magic scroll made them like him more than his natural personality. How shallow.

Biting into a cookie and opening his book once more, the crab suddenly remembered his recent level up.

“I completely forgot I had a point to spend between all that chaos this morning!”

Bringing his status page up with his eyes, Balthazar mindlessly increased his Intelligence as usual, from 18 to 19, and quickly moved to the skills list. He had a target planned out for a while now.

“Reading rank B, alright!”

Eager to try out his new reading skills on his book, the crab swiped the system menus away and started leafing through the pages.

The speed at which he could read each word was considerably better, and his comprehension had improved too. He wasn’t sure how much had to do with his reading skill, and how much was because of his constantly growing Intelligence, but at that moment he didn’t care to give it much thought either. He was just happy to keep reading, eat cookies, sip lemonade, and lie under the sun.

***

A few hours had passed, and the sun was quickly making its way towards the horizon. Balthazar was peacefully dusting a shelf with his feather duster firmly held in his left pincer while humming to himself.

“I really should think about getting a roof soon. I got dead leaves all over my helmets again.”

Suddenly, a loud sound of wood crashing startled the crab. Dropping his duster, he quickly made his way to the road, looking for the source of the noise.

“I told you it was too heavy!”

“It wouldn’t have been if you didn’t sit in the back like I told you not to!”

A horse stood on the road, two adventurers bickering at each other next to it, while a two-wheeled cart stood behind them, now only single-wheeled.

“Gentleman, please, calm down. You’ll scare away my clientele,” the crab said, approaching the scene. “What happened here?”

“The damn wheel broke off the wagon, that’s what happened,” a third man said, emerging from behind the cart, and giving the broken wheel on the road a kick. “Oh, hey, it’s you, Balthazar.”

The crab recognized them from before when they had passed through with the two spider victims on their way to town. Or rather, he recognized the horse and the cart. Adventurers mostly looked all alike to him, after seeing so many of them.

“Oh, hey there… you,” Balthazar said, quickly realizing he did not know any of their names, nor did he care to. “So, uh, how did that happen?”

“This moron loaded too much weight onto the cart, that’s how!” said one of the bickering men.

“You’re the one who loaded too much weight when you sat your fat backside on it!” the other retorted.

“Will you two shut up?” the third one said, looking exhausted. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s broken, and we got no way to carry all this back to town on our backs.”

“Well, you know what I’m here for,” the merchant said, adjusting his monocle with a smile. “I’d be happy to help with your problem. What do you guys got back here?”

Balthazar approached the back of the open cart. It was mostly filled with small boxes and many bags of different sizes, with the biggest thing in it being a large wooden barrel right at the center.

“What’s with the huge barrel?” the crab asked.

“We were clearing a bandit hideout, and when we found this barrel full of beer in their leader’s room, one of these knuckleheads thought it was a great idea to bring it back into town, to celebrate at the guildhall.”

“It would have been epic!” one of the other two said. “Just imagine the party we could throw with that whole barrel!”

“Yeah,” said the leader, “and now, instead, we’re stuck here on the road with a broken wheel and no way to carry this barrel back!”

“Think we could go into town and get someone to come and repair the wheel?”

“Nah, it’s too late. Nobody would come out here until tomorrow.”

“Do you guys think,” the adventurer at the front started, “if we tie the barrel to the horse—”

“No! Are you stupid?”

“You know,” Balthazar finally said, tired of listening to their idiotic bickering, “I could buy the barrel, and then at least it wouldn’t have been a complete loss for you guys.”

“You? What could a crab out here on the road want a barrel full of beer for? Don’t tell me you got a drinking problem?”

“Very funny, but no,” the crab said. “My only cravings are for sweet pastries. I do, however, have my own plans for that barrel. The question is, should we make a deal, or do you guys want to roll that thing uphill until the sun rises again?”

“Man… it would have been such a party,” the middle adventurer said, slumping his shoulders. “But I guess the best we can do now is make some money off of it and get a couple of pints at the tavern.”

“Alright,” said the leader of the group, “what’s your offer, crab?”

“140 gold,” the shrewd crab said, eyeing the man through his monocle.

“Hmm… I don’t kno—”

“And for 150 I’ll take that broken cart off your hands and you won’t even have to unload the barrel yourselves,” Balthazar quickly added, before the man could continue.

He always intended to offer 150 gold for the barrel. It was a good enough price, but by making a lower offer first and then upping it and throwing some extra into it, he was guaranteed to seal the deal. Crab economics at work once again.

“What do you boys say?” the leading adventurer asked the other two.

“Yeah, if it means I don’t have to move that thing anymore, I’m all for it.”

“I like the crab’s offer. Do it.”

The man turned back to Balthazar with a smile. “You got yourself a deal! The cart and barrel are your problem now.”

“Great!” Balthazar said. “I’ll go get your money while you guys unload your other things.”

After paying the adventurers the agreed sum, Balthazar watched them walk up the road to town, boxes in their arms, bags on their backs, and tied to the saddle of their horse.

The cart was broken, but even if it couldn’t be repaired, he figured it was cheap materials for Druma to work with, or fuel for a fire.

The barrel of beer, however, was an easy pick. The days were still hot, and half of those adventurers coming back to town after an exhausting day of walking would pay ridiculous amounts for a refreshing beer.

Balthazar could already see the coins falling In front of his eyes.

“Alright, Bouldy, pick up the barrel, carefully, and follow me,” Balthazar said to the golem waiting on the side of the road.

With great ease, Bouldy picked the barrel up from the cart with both hands and carried it on his shoulder behind the crab.

“Place it here, gently,” Balthazar ordered, pointing to an empty spot between the pond’s entrance and the rest of the trading post’s crates and shelves. “It’s getting too dark to do anything with them now, so we’ll take care of it and the cart tomorrow.”

With a slow nod, the golem headed to his guarding spot behind Balthazar’s tent, while the crab took a bedtime cookie and made his way to his cushion for the night. Druma was already sprawled over his pile of hay, fast asleep with his mouth open.

As the inhabitants of the pond tucked in for the night and the last remnants of sunlight faded away over the plains, a huge figure began emerging over the distant horizon, approaching at a fast pace.

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