FREE USE in a Fantasy World

Karl Krass, editor, owner, and general curmudgeon of the Morning Wood, looked past his desk at the elf sitting across from him.

Karl pressed his fingertips together, chewing on the stubby cigar he was never long without.

He nodded slowly, his bald head gleaming in the glow of the gas lamps, their light shimmering off the pages of the Morning Wood’s best stories framed about his office.

"So," he said and exhaled a plume of smoke thoughtfully. "The orc claims he didn’t kill her."

"Yep!" Ava said, leaning in eagerly, offering Karl a wonderful look down her shirt and the plump treasures within her bra. "He says he escorted her to a house. A magic house!"

"Magic house, eh?" Karl mused. "And you believed him?"

"Of course! There’s an old elven saying, sir. No one lies when their cock’s getting sucked! I mean, I wasn’t sucking his cock. He was fucking me. But the point is the same!"

"Hm. Elves have such interesting sayings," Karl said with another gander down her top.

"Then I can follow this story?" Ava said.

Karl considered this. Murder? Mayhem? Possible slumming threesome between a noble woman, an orc, and a magic mystery house?

Karl slowly grinned. Oh yes. He could already see the headlines.

"Of course," the man chortled. "The public deserves to know. Now get out there and get that story!"

Ava jumped to her feet. "Yes sir! Thank you, sir! I’ll make you proud!"

"I’m sure you will," Karl said, his eyes glued to Ava’s bottom as she swung around and hurried out the door.

Ava never noticed. She already knew where she would go next.

Outside the towering office night had fallen, the moon no more than a yellow rind int the smoggy sky.

Lamps had been kindled all down the road, their glow weak in the gloom as she flagged down a carriage and hopped in, swiftly riding down the cobbled, winding streets of New Larrin.

Huge buildings rose on every side, squeezed so close together their streets were no more than alleys, and their alleys no more than seams between buildings.

The cramping of the city grew the further they went, like the buildings were being squeezed by an accordion.

Fewer lamps glowed, and fewer people were seen abroad.

Eventually, they reached a point where the driver would go no further, and Ava got out to go by foot.

Though night was not a time for a young elf to be abroad.

Though to be fair, it was never a good time to be in the slums of New Larrin.

It was a place where a man would be murdered for his shoes and maimed for his laces.

Thieves, beggars, muggers and worse stalked the twisted streets, lurking down alleys where the buildings leaned together so much they blotted out the moonlight.

No lamps were kindled save the burning fires of garbage drums surrounded by huddled figured against the dark.

Fortunately, Ava’s elven night vision gave her a keen edge in navigating the crooked streets.

She slipped with the soundless grace of her kind, a cloak wrapped around her against the chill.

Eyes occasionally picked her out, but the confidence in her walk gave them pause, and by then she was gone.

Ava was vaguely aware of those, but paid them little mind. She was a woman on a mission, after all, and that brought her to a certain alley.

She paused within it, her head cocked, listening intently. Refuse cluttered the thin space, piled in broken crates and deeper shadows.

"Graar?" she called.

Something shuffled in the dark, and moments later, a pile of rags moved out from the deeper darkness of the alley.

A ratty coat hung heavily off the thin frame of a goblin, his wide grin revealing a row of pointy teeth and his knifed, ragged ears pressed down beneath the brim of a hat whose top had come loose and flapped like the cap of a chimney.

"Ava! Me so glad to see again!"

Ava smiled happily. "Hello Graar. Nice to see you too. I’ve come for some information."

"Oooh, me have that. Me have lots of that," the goblin said, rubbing his hands together, his eyes tracing the elf’s figure. "You need info?" Graar said, stepping aside to reveal a hole broken in the wall. "Well! Step into Graar office. Let me and elf talk."

"You have an office now? You’re really moving up in the world, Graar."

Graar tittered as he ducked into the literal hole in the wall. With a last glance around the alley, Ava bent down, forced to crawl to get into it.

The hole opened up into what had once been an old storeroom.

Empty crates still towered around them like crooked pillars, the scent of dust and filth hung in the air.

A crude desk erected from some planks of wood had been arranged in a corner along with a cracked cup.

Graar immediately took a seat behind the desk, lighting a candle sticking out of an old bottle before folding his hands on the table and beaming at her, his grin wide as ever.

"Now, what can me do for elf?"

Ava leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial murmur. "I need to find a house, Graar."

"Lots of houses in town," the goblin said.

"This one’s special. Magic."

Graar leaned back on his box, giving a low whistle. "Ooooh, magic house?"

"With the windows painted black. Blue shingles."

Ava saw recognition spark in the goblin’s eyes. No surprise.

She’d met Graar when she first came to New Larrin, and he’d helpfully showed her around town. No one paid much attention to goblins, after all.

They were everywhere in the slums, and even managed to creep into the fancier districts at times.

No one thought they’d be listening to what was happening, even fewer that they’d sell that information.

Fortunately, Ava had thought of both.

Graar nodded at last. "Yessss. Me know house elf is looking for."

"You do?" Ava gasped, leaning forward, her plush breasts squeezed in her top as she clasped her hands together. "Where is it, Graar?"

The goblin took his time in answering, mainly as he was enjoying the sudden glimpse down the elf’s shirt. He licked his lips hungrily, gaze flicking back to her eyes.

"Hmmm. Me know, but elf shouldn’t go. It very dangerous. Lots girls go missing near house. Not good house."

"They do?" Ava said in surprise. "Why haven’t I heard of that?"

Graar shrugged his bony shoulders. "Eh. People go missing from slum all the time. No one notice. No one care."

"That’s horrible!" Ava cried.

Graar eyed her with bemusement. In his tattered coat, in his abandoned building, lit with a single candle in an old bottle, he once more shrugged. "Anyway, not good place, elf. Bad things happen there, me hear."

"But that’s why I have to go, Graar. The news must know what’s happening!"

Graar licked his lips again, considering. "Hmm... Okay, me tell. But... me need payment first."

"Of course. I have some money..."

"No no," Graar said, waving his hand. "You know how goblin trading works, right?"

Ava giggled. "Sorry, I forgot. I’ve been working with humans too long."

She shook her head in amusement at her own ignorance.

After all, Graar had explained how goblin transactions worked when she first arrived in town.

According to him, goblins never traded with women. It was considered beneath them in goblin society to take gold from women’s hands.

Instead, goblins traded what he called ’fuck bucks’ which could only be exchanged by obediently letting the goblin fuck the woman in varying ways.

It was apparently a very old tradition, and Graar was a very traditional goblin, and Ava certainly didn’t want to offend.

After all, she was an educated, classy citizen of multiracial Estarian!

"Pfah! Humans. They not know how to treat women," the goblin said, ogling her big breasts. "Goblins know, though. Me show. Take off top!"

Ava nodded and did as bidden. She shrugged off her cloak, letting it pool behind her, revealing her trim work clothes.

She teased open the upper buttons of her blouse, slowly pulling it down, revealing the soft, pale orbs of her breasts.

"Oooooh," Graar breathed.

Ava knew Graar was drooling over her.

He tried to play it off, as if she had just showed him her press credentials, but the goblin definitely was staring at her breasts.

She could see his little prick tenting the front of his trousers. She smiled as she leaned towards Graar so her breasts dangled near the rough surface of the desk.

"So," she said, "how many fuck bucks is it going to take to persuade you to tell me where to find that house? Maybe who owns it and what they’re doing too."

"Hmmm, me not know that. But me know location. Ah! But, me not give away cheap." Graar rolled his eyes and tapped his pointed chin. "Hmmmm. How about me tell you, for twelve fuck bucks."

Ava was taken aback.

Graar had only ever asked for three fuck bucks at once, back when the temple’s sacred chalice was robbed, and she had negotiated that down to a titjob.

This was a different order of magnitude. Just for a house location? Something dangerous was going on.

The story Ava had been writing in her head over the disappearance of Lady Primwood was getting more interesting by the moment.

"Twelve is way too much, Graar," she said. "I’ll do one."

"Maybe I get up. Maybe I leave now." The goblin stole a glance of Ava’s breasts swaying as she rocked back in her seat. "Mmmmmm. But I like Ava. Want to help. I give you tip for ten fuck bucks."

"I could go as high as two," said Ava, reaching down and sliding open the laces of her trousers.

She parted the fabric and began to ease the tight pants down from her slender hips. "Orrrrr maybe I should just pull these up. I’m kind of in a hurry."

"You in a hurry? Why you not say so. I give you special deal." Graar licked his lips. "Five fuck bucks. Very good deal."

Ava only had to think about his offer for a second. This was a big story and it was breaking wide open. She needed Graar’s secrets.

"Five! Deal!" She held out her hand across the table.

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