Merchant Crab

Balthazar had been walking through the jungle for nearly an hour.

He had also been trying to make a sale for nearly an hour.

“So, as you can see, these fingerless gloves would be perfect for you,” the merchant said, holding up a pair as he skittered alongside Gideon. “The material is sturdy, the stitching is excellent, and because they don't cover your fingers, you save forty percent on the material cost.”

Gideon looked at the gloves.

“But I like to feel the grip of my sword against my skin when I fight,” the warrior said. “It feels right.”

Balthazar didn't miss a beat.

“Then what you need are palmless gloves.”

Gideon frowned. “I need what?”

The crab held up another pair of gloves.

“They're just the fingers.”

Gideon stared at them.

“You're selling gloves that don't cover the palms?”

“Correct!”

“So… are they even still gloves?”

“Technically, they are less glove than the previous model, but that means even greater savings!”

Gideon opened his mouth, then closed it, looking like he was struggling with an inner debate.

“I'll think about it,” he finally said.

“Excellent!” the merchant responded. “Thinking about it is the first step toward purchasing.”

Rowan, walking a few paces ahead, suddenly stopped.

“Quiet,” he whispered.

Balthazar nearly bumped into him.

“What is it?”

The ranger raised a hand and listened.

Everyone fell silent.

The jungle had been filled with noise the entire morning. Insects buzzed among the leaves. Branches and leaves moved in the wind somewhere above. Strange creatures occasionally rustled through the undergrowth.

But now Rowan was listening to something else.

“There,” he muttered.

He crouched and examined the ground.

Balthazar leaned closer.

“What is it?”

“Tracks,” the ranger said as he brushed aside a layer of leaves. “Hooves.”

“Horse?” asked Gideon.

“No.”

“Cow?” asked Cedric.

Rowan shook his head.

“Bird?” asked Balthazar.

Rowan glared back at him with a weird frown before turning forward again with a slight shake of his head.

“Something else. I've never seen tracks like these.”

Balthazar looked at the impressions. They certainly looked like hooves.

He suddenly realized something.

“Wait. Where are we actually going?”

The three adventurers looked at him.

Balthazar shrugged.

“I've been so busy selling things that I never asked.”

Rowan sighed. “We're heading toward a ruin.”

“A ruin?”

“That's what the Trader told us about.”

Balthazar straightened. “You traded with him too?”

“I traded him a rare amulet I brought from the continent,” said the ranger.

“For information?”

“Yes. I asked which direction would lead us to the nearest point of interest on the island.”

“And he told you about the ruin?”

“Eventually.”

“What did he say?”

Rowan frowned.

“It's a long story. There was a fallen tree. Then a stream. Then a rock shaped like a frog. After that, we were supposed to follow a path until we found three trees growing close together.”

The crab stared at him.

“Those sound like incredibly vague directions to follow.” Balthazar turned to the warrior. “What did you trade for?”

Gideon proudly raised his chin. “I asked where to find loot.”

“Shocking,” Balthazar muttered while rolling his eyestalks. “And?”

“He gave me the same directions to the same ruins.”

Rowan slowly turned toward Gideon.

“The exact same directions I received?”

Gideon's grin didn't falter.

“Yes! Now we've got extra directions!”

Rowan rolled his eyes too.

Balthazar turned to the mage.

“What about you?”

Cedric smiled.

“I traded some old scrolls for socks.”

Balthazar paused.

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“Socks?” the crab said after a moment.

“Yes,” replied the adventurer.

“Were they good socks?”

Cedric looked down at his feet.

“No. They had holes in them.”

Balthazar stared at him.

“You traded scrolls for socks with holes?”

“I forgot to specify that I didn't want holes,” the mage said with a shrug. “A clear lapse on my part.”

Balthazar rubbed the space between his eyestalks. His shellache was returning.

And as if taking that as his cue, the barnacle on his backside started narrating again.

“And once again, our intrepid crab found himself faced with the woes of dealing with adventurers and their lack of—”

“Not now, Bartholomew!” the merchant said.

“Did that barnacle on your butt just talk?” asked Cedric, looking equal parts grossed out and academically intrigued.

A noise came from behind the dense jungle.

Rowan immediately raised a finger to his lips.

“Quiet.”

The four lowered themselves behind the bushes. Even the barnacle went quiet.

Balthazar carefully pushed aside a broad leaf and peered through.

Something large was moving between the trees.

At first, Balthazar could only make out that it was some kind of enormous brown beast.

Then it stepped into a patch of sunlight.

It was a minotaur.

The creature towered over any human Balthazar had ever seen. Its body was thick with muscle, its broad shoulders nearly filling the gap between the trees. Brown fur covered its arms, legs, torso, and massive bull-like head. Two enormous horns curved outward from its skull before sweeping upward toward pointed tips.

It wore a simple loincloth around its waist, and across its chest and shoulders it had decorated itself with an assortment of things gathered from the jungle. Strands of dried grass and woven fibers hung around its neck. Broad leaves had been tucked into the material covering its shoulders. Bright feathers were threaded through several cords, and tiny bones and bits of polished wood dangled from them.

It looked less like armor and more like someone had emptied an entire jungle onto him and let him decide where everything went.

As if not intimidating enough on its own, in its right hand it also carried a massive battleaxe.

The wooden handle was almost as tall as Balthazar, and the broad steel head had patches of green moss growing along its edge.

The creature was simply walking. Menacingly, the crab felt, but still just walking. Not attacking, stalking, or looking like it had noticed them at all.

And, judging by the direction it was heading, it was going away from them.

Balthazar slowly pulled out his monocle.

The moment he looked through it, the system displayed its information.

[Minotaur - Level 55]

“Level 55,” he whispered.

Rowan glanced down at him.

“You can tell its level? Nice. I knew we'd be glad to bring you along.”

Cedric leaned closer.

“That monocle of yours…”

Balthazar lowered it.

“Not for sale. Also, not the time, pal.”

Rowan carefully nocked an arrow.

“I've got a clear shot.”

Balthazar looked from the ranger to the enormous minotaur.

“Wait. Maybe we should—”

Twang!

The arrow flew and struck the minotaur squarely in the back—and bounced off the creature’s hide harmlessly.

The minotaur stopped.

“Oh, crabapples,” said the merchant as the minotaur slowly turned around.

Gideon drew his sword.

“For glory!”

“Oh, no, no, no, don’t—” the crab pleaded, but it was too late, the warrior was already charging out of the bushes.

The minotaur roared, its voice shaking the jungle around them.

Gideon's sword struck the creature's arm but the blade bounced away.

The minotaur looked down at him, then it swung its battleaxe.

Gideon disappeared behind a tree.

There was a tremendous crack as the tree shook and Gideon's sword fell out of the branches.

Balthazar stared at it.

“Oh, he's definitely dead!”

Cedric began casting.

“Arcane bolt!” he shouted.

“Why are you loudly announcing the spell you’re cast—” the crab began, but his words were drowned out by the streak of magic that shot across the clearing and struck the minotaur in the chest.

The creature barely moved and then it roared again.

Cedric fired another spell.

And another.

The minotaur charged through all of them.

“Cedric!” Rowan shouted.

The minotaur reached him and its enormous hand swung sideways.

It struck Cedric with enough force to send the mage flying through the jungle.

Cedric sailed upward.

Higher.

And higher.

He disappeared into the canopy.

Balthazar looked up.

Cedric did not come back down.

“Yeah,” the crab whispered. “I’ve seen enough flying wizards to know that one ain’t surviving that.”

The minotaur turned toward Rowan and the ranger stood frozen.

His bow was still in his hands.

He looked at Gideon's sword lying in the dirt.

Then toward the place where Cedric had disappeared.

Then back at the minotaur.

The creature growled and took a step forward.

Rowan swallowed.

He knew, just as Balthazar did, that a level 38 stood no chance against a level 55 creature, but by the crust, the boy didn’t look willing to back down, and the tiniest of hopes lit up inside the crab.

“I've defeated monsters twice your size,” exclaimed the adventurer, despite the faltering in his voice.

The minotaur continued stepping toward him.

“I've faced trolls, ogres, undead, and one particularly unpleasant swamp witch!”

The minotaur did not show any signs of slowing down.

“So if you're looking for a fight…” Rowan paused and tightened his grip on his bow. “…I can probably arrange for someone else to give you one.”

Balthazar threw his pincers up in exasperation.

“That's your big speech?!”

Rowan glanced back.

“I'm improvising!”

The minotaur reached the adventurer and roared as it swung its axe.

There was a brief flash of steel and then Rowan's hat landed neatly on the ground.

Balthazar stared at it with his mouth open.

The minotaur stood in the clearing, breathing heavily.

The crab slowly began backing away.

The three adventurers were gone.

All three of them.

Balthazar had watched them walk into this jungle less than an hour ago.

They had been confident.

They had been experienced.

They had been Level 38.

And now Gideon was buried somewhere behind a tree, Cedric was somewhere above the clouds, and Rowan had gotten some very vital parts of himself forcibly separated from the rest of himself.

Balthazar took another step backward.

The minotaur turned its head and their eyes met.

Balthazar froze as he saw the creature’s nostrils flaring.

“I'm just a merchant,” the crab said with a slightly squeakier voice than usual. “Wanna… buy something?”

The minotaur took one step toward him.

Balthazar glanced at the jungle around them.

The problem was that he had absolutely no idea where any of it went.

And after one hour busy trying to sell junk to those former adventurers, he also had no idea how to get back to the camp.

The minotaur was getting dangerously close to him now.

Balthazar's eyestalks widened.

“Nope!”

He turned around and ran with all the legs he had.

He skittered through the undergrowth, crashing through bushes and ducking beneath branches.

He had no idea where he was going.

He didn't know if he was heading toward the center of the island.

He didn't know if he was heading toward the ruin.

He didn't even know if he was heading in a straight line.

None of that mattered.

Behind him, he heard the roar of the minotaur.

“I'm a merchant!” he shouted over his shoulder. “Merchants aren't supposed to fight things!”

He ducked beneath a hanging vine.

“I sell socks!”

He leapt over a fallen log.

“I have very reasonably priced socks!”

Another roar echoed through the jungle.

Balthazar's legs moved even faster.

“I'll even give you a discount!”

He didn't wait for an answer.

He just kept running.

Deeper into the dense vegetation.

Further from the camp.

Further from the adventurers.

With absolutely no idea where he was going, the crab disappeared deeper into the jungle.

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