“Boss, Druma sleepy.”

  “I told you, you sleep until ter in the m, 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 ntern 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 pins in its pale light.

  Pg the ntern on a nearby rock, he and the goblin joihe 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 sisted of flying around the area, hunting for prey, or frustrating the crab. No matter proach he tried, Balthazar could not get the damnable beast to obey him.

  “Nothi, big guy?” he asked, looking up at Bouldy.

  The golem slowly shook his head.

  It had been a week siom, the mert 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 , so he had decided to stay up to meet him again, but now he was questioning his choice, feeling the call of his fortable cushion, and his eye stalks growing heavier.

  o 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 rge eyes rapidly aing 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 ntern boung bad forth o a shambling figure.

  “Evening, fels!” 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 uhe shadow of his wide hat, giving him a slightly discerting mix of friendly and sinister.

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

  “I told you he’s friendly, rex,” Balthazar whispered to the goblin, before turning to the approag mert. “Greetings! Almost thought you wouldn’t e 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 boo pick from me.”

  The skeleto 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 poio the small figure o him, who tio look nervous while awkwardly waving a hand at the skeleton.

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

  He pointed a bone fi 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 ence him,” Balthazar interjected. “He got in his head that he’s magiow.”

  “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 ceded, 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 duhe 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 all day for a living. You’d be more than wele to visit someday. We’re all pretty ni there, if you overlook our ck 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 resporying to sound fident. “I just got a lot of work here, and you know, don’t want to leave all this unattended. ’t tell what would happen.”

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

  “Look, Tom, I’m just not one foing 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, ao refuse to step outside of it, like they’re stuside 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 i and turned back. Weird stuff, I tell ya.”

  “You’re probably just seeing things where they aren’t,” Balthazar said, in an attempt to vih 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 ge your mind. We’ll even give you a front-row seat to wat adveumbling 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 , but I’d really like to still cate sleep before the sun es up.”

  “Sure thing, my crabby friend, wouldn’t want to keep you from your beauty sleep!” the cag skull said, pulling a rge empty sa 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 colle!”

  Tom approached the box and leaned in for a closer look at the disanized 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 nid small on 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 kit 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 sigo the goblin, who retrieved a bundle of knives from the kitware drawer and dumped them in with the shoes.

  “Careful, some of those are pretty sharp,” the golden mert 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 ughed along with some visible disfort.

  “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 someoh their bones out like that.”

  “Mate, you do realize you wear your skeleton oside tht?”

  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 anh that rattled his jaw.

  “See?” he said, while giving the back of the crab’s shell a friendly sp. “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 o them.

  “I got plenty more alchemy stuff here too, if you don’t find what you want on the shelves. Pnts.” 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 miseous 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 opehe st bag and pulled a long bone from between all the other smaller animal bones mixed within.

  “I ’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 mert gave a little sympathetic chuckle as Tom tossed the bone in his sad went back to cheg the shelf. “Nice colle of fungi you got here.”

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

  “Say, Tom, I think I got somethihat you might like.”

  “That so? And what might that be?”

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

  “Why would adventurers want to loot that from a dungeon?” asked the mert 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, embarrassmeling 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, ahat was still somehow different.

  “Ha ha! I got you good!” the raggedy mert said, bursting out ughing. “I uood what you meant just fine, but your face riceless!”

  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 ’t drink anything. It would just fall right through and spsh on the floor. It’s actually kind of iive that you’d suggest something like that to me, given my dition.”

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

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

  “Hirious,” 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 merts pleted their exge.

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

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

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

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

  Balthazar watched patiently as the bony fingers ted 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 jurisdi over our dungeon, and I’d love to see them trying to cim it. Why do you ask?”

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

  After being hahe 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 rea. 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 cw.

  [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 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 thearted talking about weird things only they could see, numbers, and other stuff. They'd slowly go mad, aually, 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 ay begins, and deep down none of us wants to be the oo disappear.”

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

  “If you want my advice, buddy, have a strong drink and fet 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 o get going before the sun rises. Was nice visiting you, Balthazar. See you ime!”

  The other mert mindlessly waved a pi the departing skeleton, his thoughts still refleg oory 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.”