Chapter 19: Family Business
The earlier scream had jolted Julius up and he rushed to check the source of the noise. It came from the direction of the market district in the outer ring but he couldn’t see anything else.
With his sleep interrupted, he went downstairs. Mudgob was at the desk cleaning a set of cups. Yumiko was nowhere to be found.
Julius noticed the common room was empty and opted to strike a conversation with the goblin.
He took a seat on one of the stools.
"Is something the matter?" Mudgob asked without looking at him.
"No problem aside from hunger." Julius answered.
"Ah yes, your payment did not cover feeding," the goblin replied with a grin.
Julius ignored it. "I notice you don’t get many customers."
The grin on the goblin’s face faded and he stopped cleaning the cup he was on. He proceeded to set it down with the cloth he was using to wipe it.
"Would you like a drink?" the goblin asked, to which Julius obliged.
He poured two cups of Mudmilk and offered one to Julius before raising the cup high for some moments watching Julius eagerly and then drinking it in one go.
He let out a satisfying hiss.
Julius repeated the motion as best he could before drinking it at once. It wasn’t difficult as mudmilk was sweet by all accounts. fгeewebnovёl.com
"Kee-kee-kee!" The goblin cackled. "You are not from around here, are you, Mister Julius?" The goblin asked through laughter.
"No, I’m not and Julius is fine," he answered, wondering what was funny.
"Very well Mister Julius, you see it’s a thing among barkeepers that when they offer someone a drink, they raise their cup high while the one being offered the drink would bring their cup low before both of them drank," the goblin explained.
The whole thing puzzled Julius as he had never heard of such a thing. "I didn’t know that, is there a particular race that brought this about?" He asked.
"I’m not sure myself, although the dwarves and orcs like to take credit, they always did when it came to drinking, tch" the goblin’s expression contorted in what could be disgust. "Gob that, you wanted to know why there aren’t any customers in my Inn."
"Yes and if possible get some mudmilk while we are at it" Julius added as he pushed his cup a bit.
"Kee-kee-kee! I was going to ask if you liked it but it seems there is no need." The Goblin grinned as he poured some more of it into his cup.
"It is sweet." Julius had a thing for sugar, so much his aunt had to lock the cabinet sometimes. He hoped he wouldn’t become addicted to this.
"I am glad to hear that, it’s been a while since I had someone else who appreciates mudmilk besides the Nekari." The goblin said.
"Neka...You mean Yumiko? Is she a regular here?" Julius asked.
"Yes, her, and not really," the goblin paused, making a mental assessment before adding. "Come to think of it, are you two..." He let the words trail off.
"No we aren’t, I only met her a couple of days ago." Julius replied.
"Hmm but still..."
"You are changing the subject," Julius was curious about Yumiko but he would ask her when she came back. If she came back.
"Right. The thing is, the Inn is a family business...was a family business," The goblin spoke. "Centuries ago when humans still existed, they had a good relationship with goblin kind. My ancestor was given this building as a token of appreciation by the human king of the city."
Julius looked around the common room. The wood and concrete were in good condition for the most part. "For mudmilk?"
"Yes." The goblin continued. "You see, humans loved Mudmilk so much they made a version of their own they called chokolat but Mudmilk was sweeter" The goblin grinned as he recalled the memories.
"Most of the Inn’s patrons were humans but after they went extinct, the Inn lost most of its customers and even the other races who came moved on to other establishments."
"So why are you still open, wouldn’t it be better to close shop?" Julius asked.
"Yes but my father made me and my siblings promise to keep the Inn open no matter what. A promise the rest of them don’t care about." The goblin poured some more mudmilk in his cup to drink before setting the cup down.
"So here I am keeping a promise," The goblin grinned before erupting into a cackle. The sound of his laughter echoed throughout the common room. "A promise to a dead goblin in a city that doesn’t remember my family’s origins! Foolish, isn’t it?"
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the energy of his cackle died down into a raspy wheeze. He picked the cloth he dropped earlier and resumed cleaning the cup he had set down before.
Julius drank the remaining mudmilk in his cup. The sweetness was there but the goblin’s sadness could not let it settle in.
Julius was no good at giving speeches of motivation. Most of what he knew were words of encouragement to comfort his brother when they were younger. When they lived on the streets. When the dirty blanket that kept them safe from the cold was all they could hold on to.
Motivational speeches were the last thing you gave someone who had lost it all. But still he had to say something, anything to keep this goblin going.
"Look at the bright side," Julius said, his voice flat and completely serious. "If the city forgot you exist, they probably forgot to collect your taxes, too."
Mudgob stopped cleaning the cup. For a second, the entire common room was entirely silent.
Then, the goblin let out a sound that turned into a full blown cackle, slapping the surface of the desk as he did this.
"Kee-kee-kee! Taxes! If only, Mister Julius!" Mudgob wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. His shoulders shook with the motion. "Gob’s teeth, I wish they forgot. Those tax collectors are like hounds. They know where I am and have been harassing me because they know I don’t get customers. I have sent letters to the court but a lowly goblin is no one’s problem."
The goblin paused, his smile fading into a grimace. "They’ll be coming to collect their taxes any day now."
Julius took the goblin’s words and his situation and mulled over them. If the Inn closed, he would need to find another place to stay, and there was the issue of money. He needed a way to sell the pelts, and the goblin needed a way to keep the Inn open. An idea sparked in his mind.
He leaned towards Mudgob. "What if I paid you an advance for staying, food included? A week or a month’s worth? Would that be enough to pay the collectors for the week?"
The goblin considered his question. "Yes, that would be enough, dare I say I could pay them for the month." The goblin paused before adding. "But pray tell, how do you intend to get money? You do not strike me as a man of nobility or wealth."
"I have some bear pelts I wanted to sell. They’re outside the city in a shed." Julius answered. He didn’t want to mention the inventory, some things were better kept private.
The Goblin narrowed his eyes. There was a tense pause before he asked, "Have you tried the Workers Guild?"