Merchant Crab

Morning had come, and the sun was well on its way up to the highest point in the sky, but Balthazar was none the wiser to that, as he was still fast asleep on his purple cushion, both of his pincers hanging off the sides, a stain of drool staining the fabric.

He occasionally twitched and mumbled, his mind dwelling in dreams filled with sugary treats and piles of shiny gold coins.

In the background of all those, his beloved pond, beautiful and enchanting as ever, but also not quite the same. The vegetation was different and more vibrant, seasons had come and gone, the weather was no longer the same summer tone he had grown used to. The acacia tree that marked the very center of his domain also looked more alive and verdant than it ever had, despite its old age.

Staring off into the distance, Balthazar admired the snowcapped mountain that stood behind his land and from which the waters that filled his pond flowed.

Closer than all that, however, was the trading post, which was no longer just an open platform, but a full building with walls and windows. The crab found it strange. He had never been inside a building, only read about them, and seen drawings in books, yet it still felt comfortable and safe. Like a home.

The background sound of a crowd talking, laughing, and moving around grew higher and broke his attention away from the back of his trading post.

Turning around, the merchant saw the inside of the building crowded with many figures, each doing their own thing without directly paying him any mind.

His trading post now looked like a proper shop, like those he had heard existed in towns. Proper, beautifully crafted shelves covered the walls, all manner of goods filling them. Display stands dotted the area, with armors and clothing of all types and qualities. Everywhere he looked, something new and interesting grabbed his attention, from new books to items he had never seen before, begging to be examined.

Balthazar strolled through the room, watching familiar faces everywhere he looked.

Off by a corner, Madeleine was putting down a large tray of cookies on a table, with a radiant smile on her face. Sitting at the table were a handful of adventurers, Rye among them, eagerly reaching for the tray as they all cheered her.

Close to the center of the room, lying on a pile of pillows, Blue rejoiced as three young girls that looked to be adventurers were joyfully petting and pampering her with a giddy excitement.

Looking towards another corner, the crab spotted Druma showing off his staff stances to an amused Tweedus, who stood by with his hands behind his back, chuckling at the goblin.

Hearing a loud clamoring from nearby, Balthazar pushed through a small crowd of random adventurers, and much to his surprise, what he saw was the orc chieftain, Khargol, sitting at a table, a small group of other orcs behind him, cheering loudly, as he arm wrestled a muscular human adventurer sitting opposite of him, an exhilarated crowd of his own surrounding his side. Everyone was laughing and chanting for their favorite to win, as they both struggled to bring the other’s arm down, with defiant smirks on their faces.

Spinning around, the surprises continued, with Tom, the skeleton, standing by the front door chatting with John, the carpenter. Their conversation was imperceptible under all the other loud chatter, but whatever it was, they seemed to be having a great time, going by the constant laughter and chuckling.

The gilded crab did not fully understand the scenario he found himself in, but he felt content, and despite the oddness of it all, things just felt right.

Just as an open smile began forming on his face and he started considering who he wanted to join first, something startled Balthazar.

The wooden floorboards under him began vibrating lightly, a rumbling quickly forming from it. He couldn’t tell what was causing it, but a feeling of panic rapidly grew within him. He knew something bad was coming, he just did not know what.

As he turned around, the whole room was suddenly empty, everyone who had filled it just a moment before gone without a trace.

The tremor grew even closer. It was coming from the outside, and with his heart pounding in his shell, the crab skittered to the door.

The daylight flooding in through the open door frame blinded him as he ran towards it. Balthazar brought an arm up to shield his eyes, but it was as if the blinding light only grew more intense, until he could see nothing else.

***

Balthazar jolted up from his pillow, his groggy eyes struggling to adapt to the brightness of the daylight flooding into his tent, his mouth opening and closing, trying to recover from its dryness.

“Gah, how late is it?!” he said to himself. “Damn it, I must have overslept. Was I dreaming? Ah, who cares. If I can’t remember it, then it must not have been important.”

Stepping out of the tent, the crab looked up at the sky.

“Oh crap, that’s more than half the morning lost!” he exclaimed. “Why the hell did no one wake me up?”

He looked around, looking for anyone to blame nearby, but not even the drake was on her cushion, which was unexpected from the creature who spent most of the day napping.

Looking further off into the distance, Balthazar realized there was a big change in his territory.

The roof over his trading post was no longer just an empty frame, but a fully finished structure.

Excited to look closer, the crab rushed across the bridge to the other side.

The platform was now more like a very large gazebo, its thick six support beams holding a slanted hexagonal roof covered with dozens of wooden shingles and ending on a small pointy cupola at the very top.

Emerging from the opposite side of the roof, Blue climbed to the top, her claws gripping the iron tip of the central hub as she let out a screech that seemed to declare approval for her new perching spot.

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Turning the corner came Druma, running from the worksite area towards Balthazar.

“Boss, boss! We finish roof for boss!” the goblin proudly announced, jumping up and down.

“I can see that,” the crab said. “How come you all let me sleep this late, though? I must have lost tons of business this morning.”

“Boss stay up late because of skeleton,” said the assistant. “Druma no want cranky boss all day, so Druma let boss sleep. And we want to surprise boss with finished roof when boss wake up. We tell humans we close for renovation, come back tomorrow.”

“Uh… thanks… I guess? Not sure how I feel about the whole thing, but I guess your intentions were in the right place, so I’m just going to leave it alone. Where is John?”

“Right here,” the old woodworker announced, rounding the same corner Druma had come from, with Bouldy passing close behind, carrying a large wooden beam on his shoulder.

“There you are,” Balthazar said to the carpenter. “I see you’ve finished the roof while I was sleeping. Once again, I saw none of it being built. That sure is a big coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Again, I don’t get what you’re complaining about,” the other responded. “The work is good and was fast. Isn’t that good enough for you? Let’s go on in. I want to show you a few things.”

“Yes, I guess this isn’t the right time to be complaining. This looks pretty good from the outside. Interested in seeing the inside.”

The crab and the carpenter stepped onto the deck, the shade provided by the new roof making the whole trading post much darker than Balthazar was used to.

“As you can see if you look up there,” John started, pointing up at each cardinal point of the roof, “we hung some iron lanterns from the ceiling with chains that each run down a pillar over there, allowing them to be lowered to light and extinguish as needed.”

“Oh, pretty neat. I like it,” Balthazar said, looking up at the whole system and nodding.

“I’ve also replaced the fencing around the whole place with something sturdier,” the carpenter continued, “and made a taller and stronger fence with a gate for this entrance area here leading down from the road, so you can lock things down and keep nosy people from strolling in whenever you’re closed.”

“Great! I like it!”

“Also, I took the liberty of doing something a little extra,” the old man said, walking to the far end of the trading post. “Your little green friend may not be the most skilled builder, but I still wouldn’t feel right killing his spirit by replacing the furniture he made with better ones. Instead, I decided to make something brand new with his help that I thought you could use.”

Balthazar walked around a stack of crates and saw the man stop next to a long wooden counter and give its surface a gentle slap.

“A proper shop should have a counter for its merchant to stand behind while receiving his clients,” John said with a smile between his thick beard.

“Oh, wow, this is just like the ones in all those fancy shops I’ve read about,” the impressed merchant said, admiring the fine craft and finish of the counter. It was without a doubt a substantial step up from the crudely crafted pieces made by the goblin alone. “And you say Druma helped you make it?”

“He sure did. Well, mostly it was me, but he still helped. His major contribution went into something else. Check behind the counter.”

Balthazar walked around the new piece of furniture and found a stool. Not just a regular stool like the others he already had, but a wider one, with a slant on the back for access and at the right height to accommodate a crab rather than a human.

“Now we’re talking!” the excited crab said, hopping on the stool and placing his pincers on the counter’s surface. “I can actually reach it this way. Very nice.”

“Thank your assistant,” John said. “I mainly just gave him the instructions. The work was mostly his.”

“I will,” said Balthazar. “But speaking of work, you finished the whole job and I’m just now remembering you’ve managed to dodge talking about the payment this whole time. Is this the part where things go sour and you try to charge me a ridiculous price for something I can’t return? Because I must warn you, I’m not an easy crab to haggle with.”

The grizzly old man chuckled.

“Don’t you worry, crab. There’s a good reason why I didn’t want to talk about a payment before. It’s because I never intended to charge you anything at all.”

“You what?!” the incredulous crab yelled out. “You're crazy? I like free as much as the next merchant, but I also know there’s no such thing as free work. What’s the catch? If you ask me for one of my legs, I swear I’ll break this stool in two on your head.”

“No catch, you have my word. I have my own reasons why I don’t want to charge you.”

“And what would those be?” the suspicious merchant questioned.

“I hear what goes around in town. Everybody’s been catching wind of your feud with our esteemed merchant master and how much of a thorn in his side you’ve become.”

“Alright, maybe so, but what’s it to you?”

“You think you and your drunken friend are the only ones who’ve been wronged by Antoine before?” the man said. “That sniveling coward stepped over a lot of people on his way to where he is today.”

John leaned over the counter and rested an elbow on it while staring off into the distant waterfall.

“I used to have a nice carpentry workshop right in the middle of the commercial district up in town years ago. But unfortunately for me, it happened to be next to his damn emporium, and soon after he became its full proprietor, he decided the place wasn’t big enough and he wanted to expand it. My workshop was in the way of his plans, so he bribed, blackmailed, and manipulated his way into getting me kicked out of the shop so he could tear it down. I worked in that place every day for over two decades, and he took that away from me simply because of his greed and need for grandeur.”

“Oh. I’m... sorry. I didn’t know,” Balthazar said, feeling awkward. “If Antoine had his way, he’d run me out of my beloved pond too, so I guess I… can understand how you feel.”

“Exactly,” the old man said, turning back to facing the crab, a sorrowful smile on his weathered face. “When that Tristan feller came looking for me for a job at the talking crab’s place, I decided I wanted to come see what kind of character you really were. Judge for myself if you were as good or as bad as people comment.”

“Oh,” Balthazar said. “And?”

“You might not be a bundle of joy,” John said, “but my gut told me very early on you got a good heart somewhere down there. And I tend to trust my gut.”

“Yes, I tend to do the same,” the crab said. “Especially when it tells me to eat more pie.”

The carpenter chuckled.

“Well, there you have it. Once I decided what my opinion of you was, I knew there was no way I’d charge you anything for the job. It might not have anything to do with Antoine directly, but anything that helps you setting up your place better is sure to annoy and frustrate that arrogant bag of wind, and that brings me great joy.”

“Well then,” Balthazar started, “I’m not totally sure what to say to that, but I can appreciate the sentiment.”

“Bah,” the old man said, pushing himself off the counter, “just say you’ll keep giving him a hard time and we’ll call that my payment for the job. How does that sound for a budget?”

“As rare as it is for me to say this,” said the merchant, “that is one price I’m happy to pay. You got yourself a deal.”

“Good to hear. Give him hell, crab,” the man said. “But for now, I think my work here is done and I need to go back home and give these old bones a rest.”

“Right,” the crab said, getting down from the stool and walking around the counter to accompany the carpenter. “I guess the least I can do is say thanks. The roof really came out great, even though I still have no idea how you did any of it.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said John, stopping by a crate and pulling something from behind it. “I had a nice bit of wood left while working the other day and it looked perfect for a nice sign to hang outside your entrance, so I figured I’d turn it into one and give to you, in case you have any use for it.”

The old man handed the flat piece of wood to Balthazar, who took it into his two pincers.

“You know, John, this is actually perfect,” he said to the man. “I wanted to finally give this place a name, and this will be perfect for that.”

“Well, there you go, glad I could be of help on that, too. Just please tell me you will not put ‘emporium’ on the name,” the grizzly old man joked.

“Oh no, don’t worry, I won’t. I had something else in mind,” the merchant said, gazing at the wooden plaque’s empty surface with a smile. “What do you think of… Balthazar’s Bazaar?”