Merchant Crab

“Boss, Druma sleepy.”

“I told you, you can sleep until later in the morning, but for now, I need your help.”

The goblin rubbed his eyes as he dragged his feet across the bridge, following the crab.

Balthazar held an oil lantern above his shell as he walked, illuminating the way in front of them, but it was of little need, given the full moon in the clear sky above, which bathed the pond and surrounding plains in its pale light.

Placing the lantern on a nearby rock, he and the goblin joined the golem already posted by the road. Blue, the drake, was fast asleep all the way back by the tent in the middle of the pond, and Balthazar preferred to keep her that way.

She would spend most of the day and night sleeping, and when she was awake, most of her routine consisted of flying around the area, hunting for prey, or frustrating the crab. No matter what approach he tried, Balthazar could not get the damnable beast to obey him.

“Nothing yet, big guy?” he asked, looking up at Bouldy.

The golem slowly shook his head.

It had been a week since Tom, the merchant skeleton, had been there and promised to return to do more business. As much as Balthazar enjoyed a good night of sleep, he also enjoyed making coin, so he had decided to stay up to meet him again, but now he was questioning his choice, feeling the call of his comfortable cushion, and his eye stalks growing heavier.

Next to him, Druma seemed on the verge to fall asleep standing.

“Stay sharp,” Balthazar said, nudging the goblin with a pincer.

The assistant shook his head and stood up straight again, blinking his large eyes rapidly and letting out a big yawn.

As the crab was about to let out a yawn of his own, he heard a familiar sound from up the road. A rattling of bones.

Pointing his gaze toward the noise, he saw the dim light of a firefly lantern bouncing back and forth next to a shambling figure.

“Evening, fellas!” the figure greeted.

The skeleton became more visible as he approached, moonlight revealing his tattered clothes and pale bones. His skull smiled at them from under the shadow of his wide hat, giving him a slightly disconcerting mix of friendly and sinister.

Druma stiffened up, sleep gone from his eyes, as he looked at the skeleton with apprehension and discomfort.

“I told you he’s friendly, relax,” Balthazar whispered to the goblin, before turning to the approaching merchant. “Greetings! Almost thought you wouldn’t come anymore.”

“Ah, had a bit of trouble on the road,” Tom said, putting his hands on his hipbones. “Crossed paths with a bunch of wolves, and they had a bone to pick from me.”

The skeleton let out a wheeze and a cackle as his jaw bounced up and down against his upper teeth.

“Heh, yes, I get it,” said Balthazar, giving a weak chuckle. “Anyway, you already know the big guy, but this one here is Druma, my goblin assistant.”

The crab pointed to the small figure next to him, who continued to look nervous while awkwardly waving a hand at the skeleton.

“Hey there, little fella!” the cheery skeleton said. “You a goblin wizard, or somethin’?”

He pointed a bone finger at the hat on the goblin’s head, and then at the staff on his back.

Druma drew a faint smile at the mention and nodded his head.

“Ehh… don’t encourage him,” Balthazar interjected. “He got in his head that he’s magical now.”

“Maybe he is,” Tom retorted. “Between a talking crab, a walking boulder, and a living skeleton, a magical goblin seems like the most reasonable one of the bunch!”

“Sure, so long as he doesn't start trying to levitate,” the crab conceded, letting out a sigh. “Shall we get out of the road now?”

Bouldy remained guarding the road as the other three headed down to the trading post.

“You know,” the skeleton said, “when I got back to the dungeon the other day, I told all the guys about this talking crab I met. They didn’t want to believe me, ha ha! Then, when they realized I wasn’t making it up, they asked all sorts of questions about you. You were a hit. They all want to meet this crabby feller who swindles dumb adventurers out of their coin all day for a living. You’d be more than welcome to visit someday. We’re all pretty nice in there, if you can overlook our lack of flesh.”

“Thanks for the offer,” Balthazar said, “but I’m not too keen on leaving my pond.”

“And why not?” Tom questioned. “You afraid of finding something scary on the road?”

“Me? No. Of course not,” the crab responded, trying to sound confident. “I just got a lot of work here, and you know, don’t want to leave all this unattended. Can’t tell what would happen.”

“Could always leave one of your friends looking after it.”

“Look, Tom, I’m just not one for going out much, alright?”

“Oooh, wait. Are you one of those guys?”

“What guys?” the intrigued crab asked.

“I don’t know what to call them, but sometimes you find those out there who only ever live in their little area, and seem to refuse to step outside of it, like they’re stuck inside some invisible circle, or something. For example, those wolves I mentioned earlier? They chased me down the forest, dying to take a bite at me, but as soon as I set one bony foot out of the forest, they lost interest and turned back. Weird stuff, I tell ya.”

“You’re probably just seeing things where they aren’t,” Balthazar said, in an attempt to convince both the skeleton and himself. “And even if it’s true, that’s not my case at all. If I don’t leave my pond, it’s by my own choice.”

“If you say so,” Tom said, throwing both palms up in front of his shoulders. “Offer still stands, if you ever change your mind. We’ll even give you a front-row seat to watch an adventurer tumbling down a staircase covered in oil. It never gets old, I swear!”

“I’ll make sure to remember the offer, thanks,” the crab said. “But now, are we here to do business, or what? Maybe you don’t need it, but I’d really like to still catch some sleep before the sun comes up.”

“Sure thing, my crabby friend, wouldn’t want to keep you from your beauty sleep!” the cackling skull said, pulling a large empty sack in front of himself. “Let’s start with the basics. We’re running low on armor pieces in the dungeon. Whatcha got for me?”

“Perfect! I got just what you need.” Balthazar skittered to a nearby crate and removed the top from it. “Behold, my brand new summer footwear collection!”

Tom approached the box and leaned in for a closer look at the disorganized piles of shoes and boots inside.

“Oh-wee! Smells authentic too! These will do nicely. I’ll take them.”

“Excellent. What else you need?”

“Let me think,” the skeleton said, while Druma loaded the shoes into his sack. “You got a dozen or so daggers? New adventurers always love a nice and small weapon to carry around as a backup. And then they never use it. Ha!”

“Hmm, I do, but not that many. What I do have a lot of are kitchen knives.”

“But those aren’t the same thing as daggers,” the intrigued skeleton said.

“No, but would those newbies know the difference if they found one in a dungeon's chest?” Balthazar responded with a sly smile.

“Ha ha ha! I like your thinking, crab! Load me up with a few of them.”

Balthazar signaled to the goblin, who retrieved a bundle of knives from the kitchenware drawer and dumped them in with the shoes.

“Careful, some of those are pretty sharp,” the golden merchant warned.

“And what? They might stab me?” said Tom, before letting out another loud cackle as he poked a finger between his ribs.

The crab laughed along with some visible discomfort.

“What?” the skeleton said. “I didn’t take you for the squeamish type.”

“Ah, it’s not that. It’s just a little weird talking to someone with their bones out like that.”

“Mate, you do realize you wear your skeleton on the outside too, right?”

Balthazar looked down and around at his own body.

“Holy sand balls. I… I never actually thought about it that way, but you’re right.”

Tom let out yet another laugh that rattled his jaw.

“See?” he said, while giving the back of the crab’s shell a friendly slap. “We’re a lot more alike than you think, my exoskeleton friend!”

“Huh…” the other said, with a thoughtful expression.

“Anyway, back to business! You got any of them alchemy ingredients? Those kids always take them, for whatever reason, even the ones who don’t know the first thing about potion making.”

“Oh, yes, sure, right here,” Balthazar said, shaking himself away from his newly found perspective. “Take your pick.”

The skeleton started browsing the shelves as the crab pulled some bags that sat next to them.

“I got plenty more alchemy stuff here too, if you don’t find what you want on the shelves. Plants.” He raised a sack that made a sound of rustling leaves. “Mushrooms.” He pulled on another sack that made a sloshing sound. “And plenty more miscellaneous ones.” He tugged on a bag that made a rattling noise.

“Hold on,” Tom said. “I know that sound. Let me see that.”

The skeleton opened the last bag and pulled a long bone from between all the other smaller animal bones mixed within.

“I can’t believe it!” he said, with his jaw wide open into a surprised smile. “It’s Bob’s tibia! He’s been looking for it for weeks!”

“You could tell that just from hearing it?” the incredulous crab asked.

“Lots of years in the business.”

“Right… well, uh… lucky that it ended up here, I guess?”

“He’s going to be so happy when he sees this. He’s been hopping around everywhere on one leg for so long, it’s almost not funny anymore. Almost.”

The golden merchant gave a little sympathetic chuckle as Tom tossed the bone in his sack and went back to checking the shelf. “Nice collection of fungi you got here.”

Balthazar moved behind some boxes, retrieving something from behind them.

“Say, Tom, I think I got something here that you might like.”

“That so? And what might that be?”

“How would you like some semi-fresh goat’s milk?” said the merchant crab, revealing a big clay jug.

“Why would adventurers want to loot that from a dungeon?” asked the merchant skeleton.

“No, I meant for you guys… at the dungeon… because you’re skeletons… made of bones?” Balthazar said, his words slowly fading as he spoke, embarrassment settling over him.

Tom gave the crab an impassive death stare, which was somewhat impressive to the crab, as he would think every look from a skeleton would be a death stare by default, and yet that was still somehow different.

“Ha ha! I got you good!” the raggedy merchant said, bursting out laughing. “I understood what you meant just fine, but your face was priceless!”

Balthazar frowned, displeased at having been made fun of.

“But no, really now,” Tom said, returning to a serious expression, “we’re all just bones. We can’t drink anything. It would just fall right through and splash on the floor. It’s actually kind of insensitive that you’d suggest something like that to me, given my condition.”

The crab stood still, holding the jug for a moment, glancing around awkwardly, unsure of what to do. “Oh…”

The skeleton inhaled deeply as he slapped his knee bone. “HA HA HA! I got you again! You’re a riot, crab!”

“Hilarious,” the annoyed Balthazar said, while putting away the jug of spoiling milk. “Let’s just get back to business now, please.”

***

After a lot more dealing and bantering, the two merchants completed their exchange.

“Alright, you drive a hard bargain, but 350 gold sounds fair enough.”

The skeleton pulled out his own Bag of Holding Money and began counting coins. “You know, I should tell some of my acquaintances on the road about you, send them your way. Could benefit everyone.”

“Hmm, referrals,” said the crab. “I like the sound of that.”

“So long as I get a finders discount, ha!”

Balthazar watched patiently as the bony fingers counted the money.

“Say,” Balthazar started, “were you guys ever charged taxes at your dungeon?”

“Taxes?!” Tom said. “Why in the hell would we ever be charged taxes? And by whom? No town has jurisdiction over our dungeon, and I’d love to see them trying to claim it. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Was just wondering, but that’s what I thought.”

After being handed the payment, the usual torrent of logs listing the traded items ran through the crab’s vision, who had grown used enough to it to no longer have much of a reaction. As it reached the end, another line appeared.

[You have reached level 11!]

“Heh,” he quietly said to himself, while the skeleton was busy tying his bag shut.

But before Balthazar could do anything with the notification, it started behaving weirdly.

[¥0u hhhhhh###_rE*#*#* ?evel ¿¿!]

“What in the world?!”

The crab gave the side of his shell a couple of hits with his claw.

[You have reached level 11!]

“Stupid thing. What’s wrong with you now?”

“You alright there, crab?” Tom asked.

“Yes. Yes… it’s nothing, just some annoying thing in my eyes.”

“Alright, if you’re sure…”

“Uh, say, Tom,” Balthazar said, hesitating at first, “you, or any of your partners at the dungeon, ever experienced any kind of… writing showing up in your vision?”

“What do you mean?” the skeleton said, somehow emoting a raised eyebrow, despite having none.

“You know, like text in your eyes that only you can see, and gives you information and stuff.”

“I’ve never seen any of that myself,” Tom said, suddenly looking much more serious, “but I’ve heard some vague stories in the past.”

“What kind of stories?” the suddenly eager crab asked.

“Stories about others from our kind messing around with something they shouldn’t and then they started talking about weird things only they could see, numbers, and other stuff. They'd slowly go mad, and eventually, one day… they'd just vanish, together with those who were close to them, and nobody knew what happened. It’s the kind of story we don’t talk about much, because nobody knows where tale ends and reality begins, and deep down none of us wants to be the next one to disappear.”

The skeleton placed a hand on whatever came closest to be the crab’s shoulder.

“If you want my advice, buddy, have a strong drink and forget all about that crap. Some things are best not digging into. For everybody’s sake.”

Balthazar stared emptily at the ground, thinking about what he had just heard.

“Anyway, I need to get going before the sun rises. Was nice visiting you, Balthazar. See you next time!”

The other merchant mindlessly waved a pincer at the departing skeleton, his thoughts still reflecting on the story he had been told.

There might have been more like him.

But another part of what the skeleton had shared stuck to his head even more.

He looked around at his fellow inhabitants of the pond. The goblin that had just thrown himself onto his bed of hay. The giant boulder now crossing the water back to his usual spot. And even the young drake that was still asleep by his tent.

He quietly mouthed the words that kept repeating in his mind.

“They'd just vanish, together with those who were close to them.”