Merchant Crab

Balthazar gave his goblin assistant a nod, and Druma promptly opened the box Madeleine and Rye had brought over. The goblin carefully slid a plate out of the carton and onto the table surface, revealing a pie, much larger than the ones the baker usually sent to the crab. Its wide crust was lightly brown and perfectly toasted, a glimmer of caramelized sugars coating its edges all around. The top had been neatly covered in thin slices of apple, each one nearly identical in size and shape, forming a pattern that covered the entirety of its surface like a weaved fabric.

His breathing heavy, Balthazar nearly lost track of where he was and what he was doing for a moment, mesmerized by the sheer beauty of his beloved, as the goblin fetched a long knife to carve it with. He could barely wait to see its insides.

Shaking his shell away from more steamy thoughts of smoking hot pie slices, the crab tried to gather his thoughts and return to his explanation.

“Oh, Druma, let me help you with that,” Madeleine said, standing up and walking behind Balthazar to reach the goblin, who was struggling with the size of the pie, because of his short arms and the huge cutting knife.

“I asked Madeleine to bring this large… beautiful… pie for us as we gather here today, as a gesture of goodwill,” Balthazar said, addressing the table. “I know some of you probably know me for not being too keen on sharing my pastries…”

“You don’t say?” Rob muttered under his breath from within his bush.

“But I figured it would be fitting for me to share one of my favorite things with you all,” the crab continued, ignoring the snide comment, “while sharing my plans for us to work together. Together like a team. Like a big pie.”

Around the table, some exchanged glances at each other, but nobody said a word, while Madeleine and Druma were busy cutting and distributing slices of pie onto smaller plates.

“I admit, I’ve never been the best at working with others—”

“Or at having manners,” Henrietta croaked.

“Or at not complaining about everything and everyone,” said John with a chuckle.

“Alright, alright!” Balthazar exclaimed, starting to question his own idea of bringing everyone around that table. “We all get it. Point is, I’ve come to learn that there is strength in numbers, and that it is best to work as a team than to stand alone against everything and everyone.”

Across the table, Khargol gave a knowing nod of approval, despite his crossed arms in front of his chest, still giving the impression of someone displeased with being there.

The baker and the goblin began distributing plates of pie around the table. Balthazar couldn’t help but notice Madeleine was avoiding going anywhere near Tom as they went around the table.

“That’s great and all, but who or what exactly are we meant to be standing against here?” the skeleton said, as Druma placed a plate in front of him. The traveling merchant looked down at the pie with a hint of confusion on his bony face, looking unsure of what to do with it.

“Well, let’s take this by steps,” the crab responded. “And I think first, we need to address the toad in the room.” He turned to his left and looked at the small amphibian next to Tristan. “Go on, Henrietta, introduce yourself and tell us about you.”

Balthazar sat back down on his stool, glad to pass the focus to someone else for a moment, so he could tackle the slice of pie Madeleine had just served him, its delicious smell flooding his shell with desire.

The green merchant propped her forelegs up, sitting straight on her bench, looking nervous now that everyone’s gaze had turned to her.

“Hi, I’m Henrietta, and I’m a toad.”

“Hi Henrietta,” most of the group said in unison, their levels of enthusiasm varying.

She looked nervously to her right, where Tristan gave her a comforting nod as he mouthed two words. “Go on.”

“Well, most of y’all probably don’t know me,” the toad began, after a deep breath, “but I used to own an inn up in Ardville. I was also a human.”

There were a few raised eyebrows, and some surprised murmuring around the table, but she carried on.

“That was until Antoine—some of you might know he is the current master of the Merchants Guild—decided he wanted to take over my inn and I dared say no. I don’t want to take too much of everyone’s time with my story, but in short, he saw it fit to get a witch to curse me into… this, and then lock me in a cage in his basement.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Madeleine, who had just sat back down on her chair after being done serving everyone pie, covered her mouth with both hands, muffling a loud gasp.

Two seats to her right, John slowly shook his head. “So that’s what really happened to that innkeeper. I always thought the whole story that she had sold the inn and taken off overnight didn’t sound right.”

“That man isn’t just awful. He’s a monster!” Madeleine exclaimed, finally moving her hands down from her mouth.

“Indeed, and that’s one of the reasons I brought you all here,” Balthazar said, still struggling to chew and swallow the large portion of pie he had stuffed into his mouth while the toad was speaking.

The baker frowned and gave him a disapproving glare.

“What? I’m hungry and I already heard her story before!” said the crab.

“That’s truly awful, I mean it,” said Tom, giving Henrietta a nod of sympathy, “but I’m still not sure what any of that got to do with me or why I’m here.”

“Yeah, I don’t mean to be unpleasant or anything,” Rye said, “but can we address the skeleton in the room, too?”

“Yes, please. A moving and talking skeleton makes me way too nervous,” Madeleine said, glancing at the skeleton in tatters across the table.

“Well, there’s a talking toad right there and I don’t see ya being nervous about her!” Tom said with a shrug.

“Because she’s adorable!” the girl retorted.

“Alright, enough bickering!” Balthazar yelled. “We’re all supposed to be on the same side here.”

“Pfft, what is she talking about? I’m adorable as hell,” the skeleton muttered to himself, crossing his arms and looking away.

“Look, I hear you, Balthazar,” Rye started, “but you must understand it’s a bit odd to be sitting at the same table as a skeleton when I’m used to, you know… shoot at them all the time while delving into dungeons.”

“Oh, those things?” Tom asked, pointing at the arrows in the adventurer’s quiver. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Really, they’re barely an inconvenience for us. We don’t take it personally either.”

Rye squinted with a confused expression, but Balthazar spoke before the young man could say anything else.

“Tom over here is from a nearby dungeon. Without getting into too much detail, he’s also a trader of sorts, and I’ve been doing business with him for a while. He comes by at night, when most adventurers are gone, and we trade. I trust him. He has good bones.”

Balthazar looked at the two humans to his right. Both Madeleine and Rye gave an awkward shrug of acceptance before the crab continued.

“And similar situation goes for Khargol over there. We do business every few days. Don’t let his charming personality and friendly looks fool you. He drives a hard bargain in most trades, but he’s a fair orc.”

The chieftain let out a quiet grunt, and for just a brief flash, Balthazar could almost swear he saw a hint of a smile form in the corner of his mouth.

“Now, as for why I wanted the two of them here with us,” the golden crab continued, “the reason is that I see a lot of business potential with the non-human populations out there. Adventurer money is all nice and good, but I see no reason I shouldn’t expand and diversify. I’m in a privileged position, as being a crab, I am beloved by all!”

Balthazar opened his arms wide, looking at the group with a wide smile.

Everyone looked around in different directions, some clearing their throat quietly, others adjusting their collars, a few even pretending to examine their nails. From within the bush came a quiet snickering.

“Well, anyway,” the crab said, the smile fading away from his face, “I already have the business from one dungeon thanks to Tom over there, and I have dealings with Khargol’s tribe. He also tells me of this settlement of lizardfolk far to the south. I’d like to do business with them and many more in the future, maybe. There are only two problems with that. One is that this side of my business would have to be run during night hours, and as dedicated of a merchant as I am, even I still need to sleep.”

The group around the table was now listening with a lot more interest, the orc chieftain having gone as far as uncrossing his arms and leaning forward on his chair at the mention of the lizardfolk.

“So, what did you have in mind?” Tom asked, tapping his skull’s chin with a pointy finger.

“I’d need someone else to run that side of the business at night,” Balthazar answered, turning to his left. “And who better than a nocturnal toad?”

“Actually, did you know not all toads are nocturnal?” Rye said, raising his hand, as if requesting permission to speak.

“Not right now, Rye,” Madeleine whispered, shaking her head at him.

The young man slowly lowered his hand, returning his now embarrassed gaze to the plate of pie in front of him.

Trying to ignore the unsolicited piece of trivia, Balthazar carried on.

“Henrietta and I had a discussion and decided to set our differences aside to make the most of our skills and join our forces towards a common goal.”

“Make more coin?” asked Tom.

“Well, yes, that too,” the crab responded. “But mainly I meant the second problem: our common enemy, Antoine.”

“Again, I agree this Anthony guy, or whatever, sounds like a douche,” the skeleton said, “but that’s got little to do with me, or even Khargol over here.”

“Maybe not yet,” Balthazar said, “but I take it you two would be interested in getting in on the possibility of using this place as a nighttime bazaar where all sorts of non-human races could gather to do business, would you not?”

The orc and the skeleton exchanged quick glances at each other before nodding slightly.

“Well, Antoine seems to have a problem with my business, and wants to put an end to it by whatever means necessary. If he has his way, no Balthazar’s Bazaar for you or anyone. So if we all here want to do business together, we need to accept he will be our common enemy.”

“I do not see this as an impediment,” Khargol said. “If this puny human merchant poses any kind of trouble to me or mine, I shall simply crush him like any other fool who stands up against me.”

“As much as I like your thinking,” said Balthazar, “this guy is the guildmaster of the merchants in town and a pretty important figure. Getting rid of him that way would bring a world of trouble down on all of us that we can’t really afford. Do you really want a war between your tribe and the humans? Because I certainly don’t want the guards coming down here to arrest me for murder. I’m not made to live in a cage!”

“Fair point,” the orc said, reclining back in his chair and crossing his arms again. “Then what do you have in mind?”

“Simple, my orcish friend,” the gilded crustacean replied with a sly smile. “An independent settlement.”

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