Oozewart
Her fist collided with the human man's face, making a sound like a mallet slamming against a slab of meat. He fell to the floor, groaning. Her knuckles cracked, but she barely felt it. Over the years, she’d become more than used to the feeling. After all, there was a reason she’d earned the nickname, The Knuckle Cracker. Well, two reasons really. The first was her obvious punching power. The second was her habit for breaking fingers… and then taking them from her victims. Broken fingers stopped an opponent from fighting back quite so hard (either with their fists or with magic). And collecting fingers… well, it was fun, wasn’t it? It was nice to have trophies, okay? And fingers were lucky. Or so some believed.
The finger bones on her necklace clattered together as she moved, their music familiar. She missed the days of the hunt. This place was sucking the life out of her.
Around her, the rest of the tavern fell into a stunned silence. Mouths gaped at her in disbelief. Humans, gnomes, orcs, and other goblins stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. Perhaps she had. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Oozewart shrugged her shoulders as if to say "whatever", but her fake nonchalance didn't quite reach her own thoughts. Yep, she'd definitely lost her mind.
The human man - her boss - got to his feet.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He was short for a human, but what he didn't have in height, he made up for in attitude... which was how he had ended up with Oozewart's fist in his face in the first place.
"Careful, goblin," Arcan Lowtrap spat. "You're on track to lose everything." He drew himself up to his full height so he was just about taller than Oozewart. "Remember your place. Your debt has now increased by twenty percent. Don't make me increase it any more."
Deep in her pocket, her pocketwatch pulsed. It did that a lot. It always wanted vengeance, or just blood, but she ignored it. Oozewart didn't say a word. What could she say? She wasn't about to beg for her job - begging just wasn't in her nature. And she didn't even want the stupid job. The only reason she was here was because some adventurer had 'caught' her and then sold her to Lowtrap. Somewhere along the line, he'd decided that meant that he owned her, and she owed him. This crappy arrangement meant that Oozewart worked her fingers to the bone to pay off a debt that didn't exist and which only grew thanks to her 'expenses'. Lowtrap liked to remind his workers that food and shelter weren't free every chance he got.
"Do you understand me, goblin?" he asked, waiting for a response.
Oozewart's fists clenched and unclenched at her side, aching for another shot at his face. It was a shame this place didn’t allow her to reach her full knuckle cracking potential. She understood him perfectly well. She understood that he was stealing her life away. Lifting her head, she glared directly into his eyes. She didn't think he'd be able to read her thoughts, but there was a good chance he could at least pick up on the foul mood she was in. After all, he should have picked up on that from the knuckle sandwich she'd served him. As far as hints went, that was a pretty big one.
Lowtrap flinched as he met her gaze, and Oozewart wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not, but there seemed to be a bead of sweat on his forehead. And he seemed to be shaking. This pleased her.
"Do I scare you?" she asked, finally finding her voice.
"You repulse me," he answered, a little too quickly, spit flying from his mouth. "I despise goblins."
"Then why'd you buy me? Why not let me go?"
At this, Lowtrap appeared to recover a little bit, and his voice and demeanour returned to its usual haughtiness. "I bought you because it amused me." He stepped closer to her, his confidence increasing. "And I'm keeping you here, because I know you want nothing more than to leave. I'm sure that if you had the means to escape, you would. But until you've worked off your debt, you'll never even come close to leaving this place. Besides, I have bigger plans for you. Plans far bigger than you could ever imagine. I’ve already mentioned you to my colleagues and they’re keen to put you to work, but you need to prove yourself a bit more first."
Every word sent a new surge of hatred through her, because every word he said was true. A complex system of spells and curses held her in this place against her will. The only way to break the curses was to pay off her debt. There was no escape. No loopholes. No shortcuts. Not even murder could save her now.
"However..." Lowtrap was still talking. When he wasn't intimidated by her, he enjoyed the sound of his own voice, and it really didn't matter if anyone else was interested in what he had to say. "I'm sick of seeing your face on my property. So, I'm going to speed things along a little. I’ve got just the way for you to prove yourself."
"What's that?" she asked, not daring to hope that he'd just wipe away the debt all together.
Lowtrap smiled. His smile was worse than that of any goblin, and that was saying something. Oozewart wasn’t 100% sure of what it said, but she knew it was nothing good.
"I'm giving you the opportunity to pay off your debt faster," he said, acting like she should be excited about his words. "As you know, there are jobs that pay better than others, usually due to the hazards that come with them. I'd like to offer you one of these jobs. Mortvell's Crypt needs a new Gravekeeper. My last one... well, let's just say we lost him. Well, most of him anyway. Are you ready to be a Gravekeeper, goblin? If you survive at the job for four cycles, your debt will be paid off in full. Or, you’ll prove yourself enough to my colleagues and they’ll be in touch…. Whichever comes first. Either way, you’ll be out of my hair."
Oozewart bit her lip while she thought it over. Paying off her debt quickly was a tempting offer, but anyone who worked in Mortvell's Crypt was as dead as the people buried in the soil. Plus, she didn’t like the idea of Lowtrap’s colleagues. Who the fuck were they?
"What's the matter?" Lowtrap said. "Are you scared, little goblin?"
"Goblins fear nothing!" Her mouth answered before her brain had the chance to engage. Then it kept answering - it was a bastard like that. "I'll do it."
A collective gasp filled the tavern, and Oozewart felt instant regret.
"Very well," Lowtrap said, not even attempting to hide his joy. "Remember, you must be my Gravekeeper for four consecutive cycles, or be picked up by my colleagues. If you quit before the four cycles are up or you chuck it in before they take you, I'll increase your debt tenfold."
"Wait! That's not fair!"
"Nothing ever is, goblin. Nothing ever is."
*****
