The sun was almost halfway to its highest point in the sky, and Balthazar had been busy propping up his goods around the pond. This crab always knew he had a knack for decoration, but he had impressed even himself today. Putting his pincers on whatever equivalent of hips a crab might have, he looked around with pride.

  Two pieces of chest armor were leaning against a rge boulder on the way to the shore, with two matg helmets sitting above them on the surface of the roeatly lined up around a bush was a small colle of different types of shoes, each carefully stylized in their pose. Over by a fallen and hollow tree trunk that rested between the road and the water, Balthazar had dispyed a select lineup of bottles in size order, frht red potions to dense looking wines, all sitting on top of the trunk as if it were a shelf. On a clearihe stoh, he had id out a rug simir to the ones he sold to the neancer, carefully dispying some of the smaller tris over it, such as neckces, some crude rings, and random cutlery.

  “If I could reach it, I’d be patting myself on the back.”

  As Balthazar meticulously removed some bits of dirt from the edges of the rug, he heard approag voices.

  “ts!” the crab said with excitement.

  Correg his posture and adjusting the lens in front of his left eye, Balthazar turo face the two men approag from town.

  “M, fels!” he greeted, in his best attempt at being cheerful.

  “I’ll be damhe boy wasn’t lying,” the rger of the two men said, tipping the edge of his helmet up slightly. He wore mostly steel pting over his body, of mismatched variety, much of it with visible signs of wear, and attached to his back he carried a long spear. Even with the added volume of his armor, it was clear he was a robust man, especially his face, which also had a look of not seeing any shaving for a few days. Balthazar looked at him through his monocle.

  [Level 12 Spearman]

  “You think there’s some kind of important meaning to a talking crab out here?” the other man said to the first. He was smaller in frame, wearing far less weight in terms of his armor, and sp a rge crossbow on his back. He had an oddly long face that reminded Balthazar of a particurly ugly fish he once saw long ago.

  [Level 11 Crossbowman]

  “Hey, crab, what are you doing out here?” the robust man shouted at Balthazar. “You got any quests needing doing or something?”

  “You don’t o shout,” he responded, no lotempting to sound cheerful, “I might not make a big show out of it like you people do with y ugly ears, but I hear you just fine.”

  “Hah! This guy’s funny, I like him already,” the rge man barked, followed by some ughter, as he walked closer.

  “I don’t really have anything needing doing right now. What I do have are things for sale to adventurers such as yourself, if you’re ied.”

  “We just came from town,” said the fish faced man, “there’s plenty of shops there, why would we o buy anything from you all the way out here?”

  “Ah, well, you see,” Balthazar started, attempting to e up with a good response, “I have many unique goods that you will probably not find anywhere else. Like… this helmet right here!”

  He directed their attention to the horned metal helmet he had spent so long pg on top of the rocks earlier that day, and that he had just now noticed was crooked again.

  “Bahaha, that?” The louder adventurer ughed. “Cheap iros like that are plentiful at any armorer everywhere, d.”

  “This archer boy ba town was telling everyone who’d listen to him how there was this awesome talking crab out here selling items out of his pond, but I’m starting to think you’re kind of a scam, aren’t you?” the other man said, his face really starting to give Balthazar an urge to pinch it.

  “First of all, rude,” he said, doing his best to restrain himself. “And sed, I take it you two are heading out into the Bck Forest, are you not?”

  “Yeah, what of it?” said the fish face, with an eyebrow rising.

  “It’s a dangerous pce, as I’m sure you two know. And I’m sure you also bought plenty of supplies in town for the trip, including…” Balthazar took a gnce around at his items. “Poison cure potions, right?”

  “Poison cure?” the burly man asked. “Why would we hem?”

  “Ah, see, not sure if the people up there in your town are in the know about it,” Balthazar said, with a knowledgeable air, “but this time of the year the forest is crawling with giant venomous spiders.”

  The crab had never so much as set foot ihe forest, it was too far away from his pond, but he was certain there would be spiders in there, and they’d surely be big too, so it’s not as if he was making things up. It was just sensible jecture, and warning them was the right thing to do, obviously.

  “Did y any poison cures?” the spearman hurriedly asked his partner.

  “No, I didn’t know we might need any,” the crossbowman responded.

  “They grow huge over there,” Balthazar tinued, casually. “Fangs bigger than my cws.”

  “Damn it, you know I hate spiders, right?”

  “We’re not going bato town now after making it all the way out here,” the slimmer adventurer said.

  “You fels are in luck!” Balthazar interrupted. “For I just so happen to have two bottles of Poison Cure left right here.”

  Reag towards the tree trunk, Balthazar grabbed two small bottles of a dense white liquid.

  “Alright, alright, fine. How much?”

  Balthazar took a moment to think. He had no idea what to ask for any of those things, and he couldn’t keep relying on telling every adveo make an offer. What if they try to low-ball him?

  “Twenty gold each,” he finally said, hoping for the best.

  “Are you crazy?” the smaller of the two excimed. “Those cost ten s or less ba town.”

  “You’re wele to walk back up there and buy them then,” Balthazar said, maintaining a straight posture.

  Maybe they wouldn’t even enter any spiders oravels, but the peaind of having those potions was certainly worth it. You ’t put a pri being prepared. Or, well, you could, this crab had just dohat, but no price is too high to pay for things you might not er.

  “Just pay the crab a’s go. I’ll split the cost with you,” the other told his travel panion, pulling a purse out of his pocket. “A me one of those witles you got there too. I’m going to hem if we’re going to enter any spiders.”

  ***

  M had passed, and Balthazar had kept busy satisfying the curiosity of the many adventurers who came down from town, iigating the rumor of a talking crab trading items out of his roadside pond. And also making them buy something whenever possible, because he was there to make business, not be a sideshow attra.

  And then there were also those who were heading back to town from their adventures, like the dy Balthazar was trying to haggle with at that moment.

  “All I’m saying is,” the woman said, “what reason do I have to even trust you, crab? You’re not a real mert like the ones in town. How do I know this isn’t a scam, or that I’m not falling for a trap, huh?”

  The woman wore a simple brown dress and had messy gray hair, both in dire need of a wash. She carried a huge burp sa her back, and two slightly smaller ones in each of her hands, which she seemed relut to put dowe how full they were and her clear struggle to carry them.

  “I’m here and I got . How much more legitimate do you need me to be? My offer is more than fair. You should take it.”

  Balthazar’s patience was running low. As much as he liked his shiny new gold s, he was quickly realizing that soon enough he would run out of things to sell, and ting on dead adventurers filled with loot to fall from the sky around his pond would not be a reliable sourerdise, despite the previous day’s examples.

  He was going to have to i, even if that meant buying some new junk from those passing fools. So long as he could turn it around for a profit, he would still e out on top. Give one with one piake two with the other. It’s what he called crab eics.

  “Why shouldn’t I just go into town and sell all my stuff there, like everybody else does?”

  “Look,” the crab began, “of course you could do that, and they might even pay you a few mold s than I do. But think about it, how much is your fort and well-being worth?”

  “Are you threatening me?!”

  “No! No, of course not. That’s not what I meant. But just think about it.” Balthazar moved o the woman and turo the uphill road. “Look at that road, at that treacherous path, all those holes and loose stohe ine. And then look at how much weight you are carrying. It’s dht unfair that they expect hard w adveo make the trek up there with all yoods. And for what, a few measly extra s? Meanwhile, here I am at the bottom of the hill, happy to provide a public service, make everybody’s life easier, and then I get accused of not being a legitimate trader? All because of what, me being a crab, is that it?”

  “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” the embarrassed dy quickly said. “I have nothing against your kind. I mean, against crabs. I would never… I’m not like that. Some of my best friends are… well, not crabs, but you know… I just meant…”

  “It’s all right, I uand,” Balthazar calmly said, one pincer softly patting her arm. “I’m sure you’re not like some other adventurers. You’re reasonable, and you appreciate someorying to make a living while providing a service to others.”

  “Right, yes, of course. Now that you mentio, it is quite nice of you to set up here.”

  “Exactly. I was sure we’d uand each other. Now, about all that bothersome extra weight you’re burdening yourself with…”

  “Well,” the disheveled woman said, “I guess I could sell you one of these sacks, and it would make my trip up the road a bit easier. To be ho, it would be a good help. My bunions are killing me. I got blisters like you wouldn’t believe. Here, I’ll show you—”

  “That’s alright, I’ll take your word for it! Let’s just stick to business,” Balthazar quickly said, stopping the woman halfway through taking her shoe off, and possibly eradig half of the local fauna.

  “Fihen, how much you said you’d give me for this sack?” she asked, nding the rgest bag in front of the crab with a loud rattling sound.

  “35 gold s.”

  “Ah well, I guess it beats breaking my back, taking it up to the gates. Deal.”

  After givihe money, Balthazar watched as the strange woman carried on up the road, slightly faster pace, having only two sacks over each shoulder now.

  “Question now is,” he said, while looking ihe sack, “how am I going to vineoo buy a bunall animal bones?!”

  Deg that roblem for ter, the straining crab dragged the sack away from the road ao his other wares.

  Moving over to his hiding hole, he brought his trading logs in front of his eyes and gleefully ted his earnings from that m that now rested o his scroll.

  [ Purse (100)]

  [ Purse (88)]

  Nearly 200 gold already. He wasn’t sure how much or little that was exactly yet, but seeing the glint of all those s was already filling him with satisfa. And also a reinforced desire to get even more. He wanted enough shiny s to fill a whole pond with them, enough so that he could swim in them. Not that swimming in s would really be very fortable or even possible. Any water-dwelling creature like him would know that wasn’t feasible. Except for ducks, maybe. A duck would be dumb enough to try it. But the point remained: he craved more of the little things.

  While thinking about cravings, Balthazar felt a rumbling in his stomach. Until then, he had led a pretty zy daily life, and starting a trading post was a lot of busy work, so while the time had flown without him notig it, his belly sure did, and it demanded sustenance. Figuring it was time to take a short break for lunch, he started heading to his usual fishing spot.

  Staring down at the tiny little fish swimming around ier, he let out a deep sigh.

  “If only one of you tasted like pie…” the crab mented.

  It had been about half a day since he sent that boy into town to fetch him the legendary baker, yet adventurers came a, and no news so far. Could he have been swindled? Did he take the arrows and simply never looked for the baker? Or perhaps the archer had just been pulling his leg the whole time and didn’t really know anyone who produced slices of pie? After all, what are the odds some random town would have such a mythological figure within its walls?

  All he knew for now was that he spent all night dreaming about that slice of pie, its texture in his mouth, the fvors, the smell. Oh, the smell of it. It was so wonderful, so captivating. He could almost feel it right there at that moment. In fact, it was s, so real, he realized he wasn’t just imagining it, he was actually smelling it in the air!