Post-Apocalyptic Survivor in Another World: New Beginning

Joe triple-checked everything in his bag, along with his equipment to ensure that everything he needed was there. While he did this, Varig shrugged on a bag of his own, his guards also packing their own belongings. There were about twenty dwarves that would be accompanying them to the Black Hand’s hideout, all armed to the teeth with AK’s and Benneli’s. Joe wanted even more than this, but apparently Varig’s papi didn’t want to send out too many dwarves on this mission.

Varig had said that with all their firepower, sending more dwarves would be unnecessary. Still, to be safe, the king had also seen fit to send a mage with them. He was a stout, grumpy looking dwarf, standing by the tunnel entrance with an eternal frown. His long white beard was braided and nearly brushed the floor, and his matching eyebrows nearly brushed his cheekbones. Joe hadn’t gotten his name yet, but apparently he was a big shot, but only knew one spell.

Well, whatever it was, it had better be good. When Joe finally got his name he’d ask about the spell. The grumpy old dwarf looked so out of place here, especially wearing that long fancy red silk robe. The tunnel to old Ugals was rough, just a wide stony path, contrasting the old dwarf who looked like he should have been in the richest of all nursing homes. Joe looked back to the gate they had passed through, set into a wall that stretched from floor to ceiling. The fear of Jilamaka had made the dwarves greatly reinforce this section, and even now dwarves could be seen manning kill-boxes.

Jilamaka sounded horrible and all, but those killboxes and the thickness of this gate made breaching it look near impossible, even for a kaiju freak. Those kill-boxes were probably made with crossbows in mind, and if Jilamaka was as intelligent as dwarven annals claimed, it would expect crossbow bolts from them… not a barrage of thousands of bullets. Maybe they could kill it if they lured it here… but the fact that they hadn’t spoke of how terrified of Jilamaka they still were.

Joe still dreaded the thought of encountering the beast, but remained optimistic that it wouldn’t happen. Varig however, seemed excited by the prospect, going on and on about how they would be remembered in the annals if they accomplished slaying it. Joe had no intention of becoming a legend, he just wanted to go in, kill all ninjas, and get out.

“Prolo can take off that blindfold now right?” Joe asked, “We ain’t in the city no more.”

Varig nodded, “Aye, young Pienturshuld, you may remove it.”

Prolo breathed a sigh of relief, removing the cloth, “Ah, so this is the tunnel then.” He said, “Shall we go?”

“Potor, are you ready?” Varig asked the old dwarf, who merely grumbled in reply.

“Great, then if everyone has their gear in order, let us go.” Varig ordered, “To old Ugals.”

With that, everyone gathered into formation, with Joe walking just behind Varig to his left. He insisted that Prolo remain in the back in case any ninjas tried to get shots off on him, to which the boy barely protested. He clearly remembered the knife and bolts he had taken last time, and wasn’t keen to do so again. The tunnel was wide enough for about half-a-Betty to move through it, so the column didn’t have to cramp together too tightly. Jilamaka was apparently as big as a house right? This tunnel was big but he doubted that something that large would be able to squeeze through it.

Jilamaka did apparently have the body of a lion… could a giant lion move through anything it could fit its head through? Joe wasn’t sure. They pressed on through the abandoned mines,, the dwarves all producing lanterns that held a small fumu within, giving off a warm glow that illuminated these old eerie tunnels. Deciding to save his flashlights battery, Joe left it off.

“I see you did good work with the dragon you slew.” Varig noted, “Some of the best work I’ve ever seen.”

Joe grinned, “Well thank ya, it took forever but I couldn’t have done it without that magic needle I got from ya.”

“Ah yes, I remember.” Varig nodded, “Is that how you managed to get the scales attached without puncturing them? I see no stitching.”

“That’s exactly right.’ Joe replied, “Makes it look like I ripped it straight off the body don’t it?”

“How many scales do you have left?” Varig asked, “I’d be willing to buy a cloak like that, as well as some armor.”

Joe considered the offer. It would be a pain in the ass but there was definitely good money to be made here… or maybe even more magic items. Then a thought struck him.

“What would you be willing to give me for a set like this?” Joe asked.

Varig laughed, “Basically anything. Such armor is hardly seen anywhere in creation, I intend to make it a family heirloom for the Ugal line. Just name your price.”

“Alright, you mind if I whisper something to ya?” He asked.

Varig shrugged, and Joe leaned toward him as they walked, and said, “Promise me you won’t get all mopey and offended if I ask for something?”

Varig’s eyes found his, and they locked for a long while before Varig sighed, “Very well. Ask your question.”

“If I make you a set of dragonbone plate n’ armor… would you tell me what the debt of the elves is?” He whispered.

Varig’s eyes widened for an instant before turning into a sharp glare, “How dare-”

“Come on man, you promised.” Joe said sufferingly, “If ya can’t tell me then just don’t. But remember, you said ‘anything’ right? I’ll make ya that armor if you tell me.”

“Why would you want to know such a thing?” Varig asked, “It bears no importance to your kind.”

“I’m curious.” Joe said honestly.

That, and he wanted to let Sera know. If the elves knew what the debt was, they would be able to repay it and end this millenia long silent treatment. Varig however, shook his head, remaining quiet for a long while.

“You will make me the armor once we return to Ugals, you will not be allowed to leave until it is done. In exchange, I will tell you the elven debt, but you must not share it with anyone.”

“I’ll stay in Ugals.” Joe nodded, not wanting to promise the second part openly.

He felt like a scumbag doing it, but he really wanted to be able to tell Sera what the debt was.

“Tell me that you will not share it with anyone else.” Varig said with a glare, “If you don’t give your word to me then the deal is forfeit.”

“And I’ll tell no other man about it.” Joe said… feeling like garbage for twisting his words.

Varig stared for a long while, “Wait until we set up camp, then I will tell you of the debt.”

Lord forgive him for manipulating Varig and taking advantage of his trust. He questioned why he was going through so much effort to get this information… but all he could come back to was Sera. He really wanted to tell her what it was because… he couldn’t rationalize why, but he just thought that it would make her happy. Was that why he was doing this? Just to see her smile?

What a joke.

As they continued moving through the tunnel, Joe found himself more and more regretting his actions. Something like buyer’s guilt plagued him as he thought about the armor he’d need to craft for Varig… it was going to take weeks at least, and he’d need to get the guy’s measurements and get the proper pieces made… was it worth it just for this secret? Well…

potentially, he didn’t just have to tell Sera. If he ever met any elves that would be interested in the truth, he could sell it to them for a decent price. Then again, they might not even believe that he knew. Sure, Sera would believe him for sure, but he had no idea what other elves would think of him.

After a few hours of travel through these twisting tunnels passed, the dwarves seemed ready to set up camp for the night. Varig ordered a cease to their marching, to which Potor seemed grateful, knuckling the small of his back as his bedroll was laid out for him by a guard. Prolo moved toward Joe, waving to get his attention- but Varig shooed him away, telling the boy to give them a moment. Prolo seemed mildly irritated by this, but said nothing of it, crossing his arms and waiting for their talk to conclude.

Varig and Joe moved a decent distance away from the group, urging his guards to remain behind as he discussed ‘tactics’ with Joseph. They did not object to the order of their prince, continuing to set up camp.

“Alright Joseph.” Varig said, “Are you ready?”

Joe hesitated for a moment, considering going back on the deal, but his curiosity got the better of him, “Yeah. Spill the beans.”

“What?” Varig asked, “Is that some sort of Outworlder saying?”

“Byeah.” Joe replied.

“Ah, alright then.” Varig nodded, taking a deep breath. “Our relationship with the elves had always been amicable in the past, before the debt was incurred anyhow. That all changed however, only a few centuries after Faenor was created.” He explained, “In the distant past, the elves had a curse placed upon their race, dooming them to an early grave. We did not wish to see our friends die, and so we devised a way to save their race… a second ‘curse’.” Varig said, air-quoting the word, “It cost a great sacrifice, but within a decade we were able to create a proper curse to place upon the elves… eternal life.”

Joe blinked, “How is eternal life a curse? I don’t get it.”

“The curse placed upon the elven race was a ‘quickening’, done by a vessel of Shenra before The Ban was implemented by The Overseer.” Varig explained, “He is the Faelord of Trickery and Cruelty, and on a whim had cursed the elves… Had we not intervened, the longest an elf would live to would be about ten years of age, as they would have rapidly gone through their life cycles, becoming physically ancient at the end of the decade. Originally, The Overseer had blessed them with already near-eternal life, and Shenra took it upon himself to alter his father’s design. Elves nearly went extinct from this, and it broke our hearts.” Varig said, his head hanging, “To some, eternal life is a curse… but to elves, that was what is normal.”

“A Faelord did this?” Joe asked, “I guess that’s why ya couldn’t just un-curse them, huh?”

“Aye, not even another Faelord could undo such a thing.” Varig nodded.

“But you could put on a second curse…” Joe said, tapping his fingers together as he thought, “With another Faelord.”

Varig nodded, “Our king at the time, Garick the Humble, sacrificed his body to Kagor… Faelord of War and Wrath.”

Joe’s brows knit together, “Why? Why did Garick have to sacrifice himself, and why would a god of war be able to put a curse of eternal life on something?”

“Before The Ban, the Faelords could afford to be more picky about who they inhabited. Kagor demanded the King of the Dwarves and no less, and Garick obliged him, sacrificing himself to save the elves.” Varig explained, “As for why he could use such a curse… something that lives forever can fight forever, and he was the only Faelord strong enough to counteract Shenra, his hated brother. Still, so strong was the curse that it took Kagor ten years to make his more powerful than Shenra’s.” Varig said, “It was after this that The Ban was put in place, when the Overseer realized just how much he’d underestimated his children's influence on creation… At least, that is what we assume.”

“...Couldn’t the Overseer just undo the curse?” Joe asked, “I’m guessing he’s stronger than Shenra right? Why didn’t he just fix it himself?”

“The Overseer can only view one Shard at a time, when he discovered what had happened it was too late… that, and Kagor had already essentially fixed the problem himself. Our annals claim that he just left the two curses in place, to save the effort of reversing them… but the truth is, we don’t know for sure.”

“I thought your history was a hundred percent accurate?” Joe asked, “You just said you don’t know for sure and that you ‘assume’ that’s why The Overseer did The Ban.”

“It is, but that does not mean that our recorders are omnipotent. It is merely speculation as to why he didn’t remove the curses, and the recorders made this plain. Think about it Joseph, would we have been able to ask the Overseer why he made this decision?” Varig asked.

Joe bit his cheek, “Yeah I guess not.”

“So now you know why the elve’s debt is impossible to repay.” Varig said with a sigh, “One of their rulers must sacrifice themselves to save our race from extinction…”

“Yeah, that’s a tall order, especially since you won’t tell ‘em nothin’.” Joe said with a frown. “Don’t you think that’s going a bit far? They were your friends, why not just wipe the slate and forgive the debt? Or at least let them know what it is they owe you at least?”

“Telling them the debt would insult their memory.” Varig said, “We would not rub salt into the wound that way, it is shameful. We cannot forgive the debt either, if we were to do that, what would stop us from forgiving the rest of the races for what they owe us? Doing that would let everyone know that the dwarven race can be taken advantage of, and we cannot allow that.” Varig said, crossing his arms.

“Varig.” Joe said, shaking his head, “There ain’t no elves alive from that time that can even remember that stuff… probably anyway, and even if there were, they don’t have rock solid histories like you, they probably lost it all. Have a heart.”

“Have a heart?” Varig growled, “King Garick had a heart, and he gave it to the elves, how dare you imply that we’re cruel to them. We want this repaid more than the debt of any other race, but it is impossible.”

Joe raised a hand, “Calm down.” He said softly, “I ain’t sayin’ that. What I’m sayin’, is put yerself in their shoes. Think about it from their perspective. Ancestral friends just given’ ya the silent treatment, not even telling ya the reason? I’m sure they’d love to know why, I don’t think they’d be insulted by you reminding them.”

“You don’t seem to understand.” Varig replied, shaking his head, “To remind someone of something is one of the gravest insults a dwarf can do to someone, it implies stupidity and incompetence-”

“For a dwarf that don’t forget nothing.” Joe cut him off, “Yeah for sure, but humans, elves, orcs and whatever else is out there, they forget things. I don’t even remember what I ate four days ago, reminding folk of something they forgot ain’t insulting when they ain’t a dwarf. Our minds ain’t steel traps like yers, just think about that.”

Varig fell silent for a long while, glaring up at Joseph the entire time. Eventually though, his features softened, and he sighed, “Perhaps… perhaps there is merit to your words. Yet, this is not something I can compromise on, it goes against every fiber of my being.”

Joe wanted to groan. Damn fantasy people and their dang ol’ cultural hang-ups. Well, the thought was in Varig’s head now, maybe it’d eat at him enough that he’ll be able to let this big secret loose on his own. Maybe.

“Ya know, the king fella, Garick the Humble, he’s a good guy for doing that. He must have loved the elves a lot to sacrifice himself for ‘em.” Joe told Varig.

“He did.” Varig nodded, “His people pleaded with him not to do this, as he was beloved by all dwarves that knew him at that time.”

“Yeah, that’s a good guy in my book. I got a verse I wanna share with ya, it’s from The Bible, a book of faith from my world.” Joe said, clearing his throat, “John 15:13: There is no greater love than this: that a person would lay down his life for the sake of his friends.”

“King Garick loved the elves as if they were his own kindred.” Varig nodded, “That is a good verse, I think it applies to the old king well.”

“God rest his soul.” Joe said, “Now let’s head back, we’re gettin’ weird looks.”

“Aye.”

The two then went back, slinging off their rucksacks and getting to work setting up their sleeping areas. Prolo approached, looking like he wanted to ask a question.

“I can’t tell ya.” Joe stated, “Sorry, hands are tied.”

Varig looked up and nodded at Joseph before going back to work. Prolo looked somewhat dejected, but shrugged.

“Very well then, I will not press the issue.” Prolo said, “As long as it doesn’t involve us searching for Jilamaka.”

Joe shook his head, “No way.”

Prolo sighed in relief, “Thank The Overseer, I thought that Varig was trying to convince you to hunt that beast. Anyway, how do you plan to take on the Black Hand once we reach their fortress?”

“I packed some stuff called ‘c4’, if we ain’t seen I’ll plant a few around their base and cause a cave in.” Joe said.

“I thought you wanted to loot them? You said so yourself.” Prolo pointed out, “Unless you plan on mining through thousands of pounds worth of crumbled rock?”

“I will loot it, if the c4 thing don’t work out.” Joe explained, “I was just thinkin’ that it might be better to avoid any risky confrontations, if possible anyway.”

“At the expense of amazing loot?” Prolo asked, “I’m shocked that you would shirk such an opportunity.”

“Our lives are more important, kid.” Joe said flatly, “Trust me, if the c4 plan don’t work, we’ll kill ‘em the old fashioned way.”

“You may want to discuss this plan with Prince Varig.” Prolo pointed out, “He may not want you to bury old Ugals, what if they want to excavate it eventually?”

That was a good point… Varig might not want to do this the safest way possible.Not for glory in battle or to claim riches from the Black Hand, but to preserve their history.

“I’ll talk with him about it.” Joe assured, “You get yer bedroll set up?” Joe asked, “Did you eat today? You drank some water right?”

“You sound like a grandmother.” Prolo said flatly.

“I’m old enough to be your great-great grandmother.” Joe retorted, “Did you eat?”

Prolo groaned, “Yes grandmother, I did.”

“This pleases granny.” Joe laughed.

The rest of the night passed by uneventfully, with everybody save for old Potor taking watch in shifts. The guards tried to assure Varig that he didn’t have to do so, but the prince insisted. Coincidentally, he and Joseph ended up on watch together, and during that time Joe discussed his c4 plan with him. As Prolo suspected, Varig was against the plan, wanting to preserve old Ugals if possible. Varig did say however that if the odds were impossible, that blowing it up would be unavoidable.

Well, they would have to see about that in the next couple days. The rest of their shift was spent discussing c4 and how it worked, and Varig expressed interest in learning how to create it. It seemed like every time he and Varig got to talkin’, the conversation would inevitably end up moving toward business. He’d tell ‘em how to make c4, but only if he agreed that the dwarves would forge for him metal walls in the dimensions that he requested. If he wanted to get making those extra rooms in Betty, he’d need walls to do it. It would take a few months after the commission was made, but Varig would see that they got done.

Honestly, he could probably drain the dwarves dry with all the things he could show them… maybe he should? He could teach ‘em how to use electricity, show off more guns, show ‘em some movies, really Joe could get whatever he wanted from the dwarves if he kept trading info.

And that was exactly what he was gonna do while he made Varig his armor, but negotiations on all that stuff could wait until after this Black Hand business was done. Once everyone had rested, they set out again, and Joe took the time to talk with old Potor, who only grumbled when asked what spell he knew. One of the guards only said that it would be used if needed, and left it at that. What, was it rude to ask what spells could be used or something? He supposed it was at that, he remembered that Sera had told him something similar to that before.

Well whatever it was, it better be good. It was the third day when they finally left that long winding tunnel, coming to an old, destroyed dwarven gate, the twin of the one back in new Ugals. However this ruined one had no killboxes, and only reached halfway up to the cavernous ceiling. The old gate had been torn through like a can of soup, and long rends could be seen in the stone.

“The claws of Jilamaka…” Varig breathed, “They had to have been incredibly sharp indeed to leave such an impression.”

“Strong too.” Joe noted, pointing to the peeled gate, “Just to be able to tear right through that thing.”

“It was unstoppable, our crossbows did nothing to it…” Varig whispered, looking down at his shotgun, “But this, this may be able to do something.”

“Let’s hope we don’t gotta use ‘em.” Joe replied, “Just the thought of seein’ this thing makes me nervous.”

“We’ll see what happens.” Varig said, putting on his helmet, “Let us see the home of our ancestors.” He continued to his men.

The guards all raised their shotguns, clearly ready to get to work. Potor seemed a tad less grumpy as he looked at the entrance to old Ugals, his eyes seeming to light up with excitement. Prolo seemed nervous, but determined, his face hardening beneath his salet. Joe himself… well, frankly he just wanted to get this done and get out of there as quickly as possible, just in case Jilamaka was still kicking around somewhere.

They all passed through the ruined gate, seeing the remnants of old Ugals. Ancient buildings made of stone blocks lay ruined, having caved in by lack of maintenance or from being crushed by presumably Jilamaka. Shattered bricks lay everywhere, and rusted bits of steel could be seen in the glow of the dwarve’s fumu lanterns. There were even wild fumu that floated about aimlessly through old Ugals, illuminating the ancient smoothed streets. Seeing the carnage that had been wrought upon the ancient city, Joseph found himself wondering if extravagance was the only reason that new Ugals had been made out of solid steel.

Claw marks were everywhere… but even more numerous then that was the stout skeletons that had been left behind. As they moved through old Ugals, they came across thousands of them, with cracked skulls and shattered ribcages. Armored skeletons lay strewn everywhere, their armor having been clawed apart or crushed like soda cans. Joe felt spikes of wrath whenever he saw the smaller skeletons… Children that had been running for their lives but couldn’t escape.

Varig and his men seemed enraged by this as well, some of them exclaiming that they would take revenge if Jilamaka appeared. Joe couldn’t knock them for their desire to get back at the creature… if he saw it at this point he might take a crack at it himself. No matter how tough it was, a block of c4 would humble it. He gripped his poleaxe tightly, trying to make himself see reason. A monster like this was to be avoided, it had decimated an entire city of dwarves and had barely taken a scratch. Then again… Joe had already slain a massive legendary monster, all it had taken was a few slugs and that dragon had died. He was with a team of twenty dwarves that all had arguably better versions of his Benneli, Jilamaka might be toast if they ran into it.

Not to mention the mage and Prolo, who had a gun of his own, though being a glock it wouldn’t have as much punch as a shotgun. They continued through the ruined streets at a good pace, keeping their eyes peeled for anything suspicious. The Black Hand’s base was in here somewhere, the question was, where? Everything from the tallest towers from the lowest stone hut was empty, that was if they weren’t completely destroyed. Hours passed of them combing old Ugals, but still nothing could be found… that was until Joe heard a rustling behind a pile of debris.

Joe raised his hand, calling attention to the debris silently. The others all raised their shotguns to the mound of rubble, ready to blow whatever it was to hell. Remembering the lesson that Henry taught him, he leaned his poleaxe down into the crook of his arm, lifting his own shotgun and taking aim. Before anything else could happen, the source of the noise emerged…

Wielding a club and clutching a large rat by the tail, emerged a goblin. Its yellow goat-eyes went wide at seeing them, snarling for a moment before it realized how outnumbered it was. The goblin looked to the group of dwarves, then back to his club, then back up again.

“I’ll give ya me rat if ya let me go.” The goblin bartered, “Okay, half-a-rat and no more. A quarter actually… can I just give you the tail?” It asked, “Half the tail, a quarter-”

“What are you doing down here in our ancestral home?” Varig questioned, tone offended.

The goblin lifted up the rat, “Huntin’, was ‘ungry.”

“How many of you are ‘round here?” Joe asked, keeping his gun level, “Tell the truth.”

“Uh… clans about… hmm…” The goblin considered, “About one bunch.”

Joe’s eyes narrowed, “How much is a bunch.”

The goblin dropped the rat, and began picking its long nose as it thought, “Hmm, a billion? That’s a big word.”

“A billion goblins?” Prolo said, shaking his head, “Are there more of you then there are of us?”

It shrugged, “Probably.”

“Look pal,” Joe said, surprised at the goblin’s reticence to attack, “We’re doing something important right now, is your clan gonna be a problem?”

“Don’t think so, nest is back a ways, long ways, just me here now.” He replied, “You here to talk with the cave-folk?”

Joe and Varig looked to one-another before the prince addressed the question, “The cave-folk? Do you refer to your own kind?”

“Naw.” It said, waving its hand dismissively, “The humies that live in this cave. I’ve seens them around before, bein’ all sneaky like. Humies always bring ratties with ‘em, so their cave’s a good huntin’ ground. They let the clan come and so we can take their ratties away.”

“Yeah, we’re here to see them.” Joe said, “We got a lot of things to talk about, but they didn’t give us good directions. You know where to go pal? What’s yer name?” He asked, trying to be polite.

This one was different than the goblins he’d met on the surface, it seemed better able to reason, though Joe hadn’t been able to communicate with those first ones. Well, time to see how this interaction would go.

“Nine!” The goblin replied proudly, “I’m Nine, ninth bornteded or whatever. Now erm… the humie place, uh…”

“Can you lead us to it?” Prolo asked.

Nine frowned, “They said they don’t wants us getting close or they’d string us upside down n’ beat us up.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” Joe said, lowering his Benneli and rifling through his rucksack.

Nine’s long ears peaked, “You knew it was my birthday?”

Joe paused, “Uh, yeah. Happy birthday sport. Anyway, I got this thing here,” He said, presenting a chocolate bar, “This is the most delicious thing in the world, and I’ll give you a piece of it if you lead us to ‘em.”

Joseph had to tear off the exterior wrapper before he brought it along, if any dwarves read the alien text on it they would have suspected him.

Nine considered, “I need to… words words… ah! I need to sample it! What if you’re trying to feed me poop?”

Joe scoffed, “It ain’t poop, look.” He said, opening the bar, it’s chocolate.”

“Sure looks like poop to me, I ain’t falling for that trick again.” Nine said, shaking his head.

Falling for it again? Joe shook his head, “Just take a sniff then, you’ll see.” He said, snapping off a square before tossing it to Nine.

The goblin eyed the square suspiciously for a long while before he knelt down before the chocolate, leaning down to give it a tentative smell, “Doesn’t smell like poop… Maybe just a nibble.”

Nine then picked up the square, squeezing it to test its firmness before popping it in his mouth, chewing lightly before his yellow eyes widened. Voraciously Nine chewed through the sugary block of goodness, looking up greedily.

“More!” He demanded, “I’ll give you this whole rat for more, a half actually, a quar-”

“Not interested.” Joe cut him off, “Take us to where our friends are, and I might give you the rest of the bar. A half, a quarter, maybe another square.” Joe said.

He didn’t exactly have infinite chocolate bars at home… and he’d been looking forward to eating this one after the fighting was done.

“Peas in a pod.” Prolo remarked.

Joe ignored the jab, “Also, you know if there’s any big scary monsters around here?”

“Naw.” Nine said, “Just us, humies, and ratties.”

Nine paused, “Can I get chocolate for that?”

“No.” Joe replied, “Now where do we gotta go?”

“You just have to-” Nine paused, “Wait a minute, give me the chocolate first!” He yelled, holding out his hand, palm up.

Joe sneered, “Take us to our friends first.”

Nine grumbled, “A square now, another square once we get there.”

“Half a square, then the other half once we get there.” Joe countered.

He was not going to part with more chocolate than what was necessary. While Nine thought of the offer, Varig approached him, keeping his gun level on Nine as he went.

“Why are we negotiating with this creature? Threaten to end its life and it will obey you.” Varig whispered, “I plan to kill it once it outlives its usefulness anyhow.”

They could do that, just threaten Nine until they got what they wanted, but his gut told him diplomacy was the right approach.

“That ain’t nice bud.” Joe said, “Look at him, he’s just a little guy, he ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

“Don’t be so foolish.” Varig said harshly, “Did you forget where we met? Where I was, what these things forced me to do?”

That was true. Goblins had taken Varig hostage after that dragon destroyed his convoy, forcing him to do manual labor. It was no shock that he’d want Nine dead.

“Look, if he thinks he has something to gain from it, he won’t lead us astray, right?” Joe reasoned, “If we threaten him, he could give us wrong directions or lead us straight to his nest where all his ‘billions’ of friends are. Plus, you remember what he just said, he’s the only goblin out here right now, if he dies and doesn’t come back, they might send more to find him. We don’t want that. Givin’ him the chocolate will incentivize the little freak to take us to the right place.”

“Or he’ll take us to his nest anyway to have his kindred seize the chocolate from you by force.” Varig argued, “And so what if one goblin dies? I doubt that they would care if he never came back.”

“No no,” Joe said, shaking his head, “Think about it, if he tells his pals about the chocolate, then they’re all gonna want a piece. This guy ain’t gonna wanna share Varig, think about it. And frankly, you don’t know if these gobs won’t care that Nine’s gone missing, maybe they would. That’s not a risk we should take, I don’t wanna be fighting ninjas and goblins at the same time.”

Varig sighed, “While it is insufferable to think about letting this wretched thing live… I will go along with your plan. However, if this thing does anything suspicious, I will end it on the spot.”

Joe nodded, “Fair enough.”

“We will go with you, creature.” Varig declared, “For the agreed fee made between you two. Now let us be off!”