Chapter 13

Vix’s time at the brothel had been a pleasant one. None of the females feared him, though they really should, and he even got to sit in a VIP room as he did currently.

A chandelier with purple-stained glass hung from the ceiling, illuminated not by fire but by the power of the god blessing the building. Across from him sat Grace, finishing her drink while on the comfy couch, also colored purple. The couch circled the entire room and surrounded the table of finely varnished oak.

Vix had no taste for the fancy food she offered, settling with devil’s water instead. He trusted her enough to get a little drunk in her company now. But she probably wanted him sober for their conversation so he limited himself.

She invited him to talk about his unique history of Alta, having been alive decades ago due to the miasma preserving his life.

What many didn’t know about goblins is that they were long-lived; their short life spans were on account of the violent, wretched lives they lived. Vix had survived over thirty human years before getting himself trapped by the miasma that had kept him alive for decades more. It is why Grace wanted to pick his brain.

The mature woman leaned back, getting ready for a lengthy conversation. “Tell me, Mr. Vix. What is the biggest difference you have seen from your time and now?”

“Stop calling me Mr. Vix. You know it annoys me.”

“It grants you an air of respectability.”

“Bah! It makes people feel awkward, mostly me.”

“The ends justifies the means,” Grace smiled.

“Crafty whore.”

“Clever goblin.”

His sigh came out as a churtle. “Biggest difference. You have way more gods.”

“We have always had plenty. It is what makes Alta unique.”

“I don’t mean different types like your idols and local gods and such. I mean the sheer number of them. It’s like someone is making them up and spitting them out.”

“Did the gods of your time have names?” She leaned forward, interested.

He was polite enough to pretend not to look down her bodice. She was polite enough to pretend he wasn’t thinking about it. “No. Not any more than today. That has stayed the same.”

She leaned back disappointed, and so was he. “Do you think the miasma had anything to do with it?”

“No, from what I remembered, the miasma just wanted to control and kill anything in its territory.”

“That could include gods.”

“Maybe, maybe. I’m not going to check to see if any are there.”

“Axel and Rayner could tell us.”

Vix grumbled. “Those two.”

“You dislike them? They freed you of the miasma’s influence.”

“The tall black one cut me in passing and I chased them down to lend aid. And kicked their asses a bit too.”

“They are good boys.”

“Too bad for them. Guess I won’t be seeing them again.”

Grace grew uncomfortable. Vix knew she was taking advantage of them somehow. While he doubted she held any malice toward them, she was using them for her yet still unknown purposes. He wanted to remind her of that.

She poured herself and him another drink. “What is the Alka region like? I’ve never been there.”

“Why not? You got money, position. Just go.”

But she shook her head, the pin in her neat bun keeping her hair fixed. “From what I have heard, the region of Alka is strange and the city is hard to live in. I would be going there as a puffed-up pimp of a small town.”

“They got a city now? That’s a change. I remember a large town back in my time. We raided it a lot.”

“ ... I see.”

Maybe he should keep such details to himself. “Alka is strange as you said. Not a lot of monsters. Not a lot of people too. But a hell of a lot of gods.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing. That is the source of the economy. It’s much more organized than how we relate to the gods in Alis and Alea.”

“I heard that too, and it is like that in some places but everywhere else is ... it’s hard to describe.”

“Try.”

“Magic just kind of happens there. Intelligent beings are usually needed for magic and skills to activate but there the magic of the gods manifests by itself,” Vix said.

“How can most of our richest citizens live in such a place?”

“You said it yourself, the economy is based there. The richest citizens are probably connected to powerful household gods. And everyone else survives at the blessing of their local gods, because the land is no good for farming.”

“Alea sells leftover parts of monsters and Alis used to supply the food before goblins ravaged the farms. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“I do remember Alka trading magic somehow. I wasn’t paying attention. But it’s probably the other reason the Inimi invaded. Special items, dungeons, rare monster parts for whitesmiths, all can be found anywhere but only in Alka does magic bloom like flowers.”

“Thank you for telling me this. It galls me how little I know of my own country.”

“I feel the same about the rest of the world. Thought It didn’t matter until the Inimi came.”

Grace broke the silence that followed to talk about business. “I spoke with Mulch and Krack yesterday.”

“That must have been fun.”

“They are interesting goblins.”

“A polite way of putting it.”

“They found out the town guard is behind the crime in the town.”

“I could have told you that. Bad governance leads to crime. It’s one of the reasons us goblins kill each other all the time.” Vix paused, remembering Grace was a councilwoman. “This excludes you, of course.”

And he meant that too. Her ability to make money astonished him. Most of the profits by his estimates came from everything other than whoring. The girls provided massages, served luxury foods, even crisis counseling.

Grace also made sure her doors were open to the townspeople she represented. Though she didn’t like them staying long. They ruined the fancy atmosphere.

Criminals had attempted to muscle in on her business by selling the flesh of poor refugee men and women at rock-bottom prices. Some nasty men even attacked the girls when outside the brothel.

Previously Axel and Rayner handled security but when they left, Vix had taken up the job of protector. An odd position for a goblin. Though they did enjoy the kisses they got after scaring away a thug.

“I hope you don’t mind. I asked them to work with Evans to find out more.”

“Evans, the handsome one who likes men.”

“Yes, him.”

Vix shrugged. “Not a problem. They might learn something.”

Grace slid a pouch across the table. “Payment.” He raised a furry brow. “The citizens of Ridgehill are afraid to leave town and are afraid to stay. The security you provide is of great help.”

“What has this town come to when you need a goblin to keep humans safe?”

Though he was joking it was also the truth and Grace knew it.

The counting of his money was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. “Enter,” said Grace.

At the door stood Alvina, the fairy pretending to be an elf. She wore more than tattered clothes now, donning a dress of soft green that flowed down to her feet. It looked like something a rich girl would sleep in.

“Am I interrupting?” Alvina said.

Grace spoke before Vix could say yes. “No, our conversation is completed.”

Alvina quickly took the place Grace departed, smoothing her dress before sitting. The woman of somewhat masculine features said nothing for a while. Vix knew she wanted him to ask why she was here but he didn’t feel like it and he had money to count.

She broke first. “I’ve come to speak with you.”

“That much is clear.”

“ ... Thank you for saving me.”

He looked to see if she was serious. “You’re welcome.”

Then she just started talking of her home in the Corpsewood, of its beauty and splendor. He didn’t try to stop her but to his knowledge, the forest was full of zombies. But to each their own.

“It has changed so much,” she said, referencing the zombies. “What of your home?”

Finished counting his money, he entered the conversation. “I lived in the Alka region in a warren of tunnels dug into a hill of flowers.”

“Wow, that sounds wonderful,” she said with eyes alight.

“It was. The flowers smelled so bad that almost all predators stayed away from the place. They looked scary too.”

That caused her to slump back in her seat. “That’s ... useful.”

He nodded in agreement. “Alvina. What is it that you want?”

“Protection.”

“From?”

“Everyone. While the dwarves are holding to our new treaty, it is not guaranteed. Many are angry that we let the Inimi pass through the forest to lay siege to and then sack their city.”

“Grayhaven, right? It’s not your job to defend their home.”

“Except according to the old treaty, it was. Our god broke the treaty for the promise of power.”

He remembered his own gods. “Yeah, they do that.” He shifted in his seat. “Look, I’m sympathetic with your plight.” He wasn’t. “But you can handle some dwarves weakened by war.”