Tiller wasn’t really surprised when he realized it, not really, not at the subconscious level.

  Tiller said, “There’s another human? You spoke to another human?”

  Spinner nodded, ‘Oh, aye, that’s what he called it: hoo-man. Fuckin strange name for a race, but who’m I to judge. Aye, Cutter’s one of them, and a nasty piece o’ work too by all accounts. He’s a stoney too, and from what I can hear he can properly handle himself.’

  Tiller said, “He comes here? Often?”

  Spinner said, “That he does, but he’s only just set off on some kind o’ mission. He’s a busy little bitch that one. Haven’t seen a fighter for hire with the kind o’ ambition that fucker has ever before, I’d say. He’s always workin’. You want, I can send him out your way next time he’s in.”

  Pod said, “Ideal. Much obliged, Spinner, my good man.”

  Spinner blinked all his eyes. “Aye, I’ll do that then. You wanna talk with the twins? They won’t like bein’ approached, but I’ll give ’em the nudge if you like.”

  Tiller said, “I guess that would be best. If this Cutter might be gone for a while… our, um, job is kind of time sensitive.”

  Spinner started to move away. “Aye, then. Well, if they want the work they’ll be over.”

  Tiller watched Spinner walk away, his mind tumbling over. Nobody had seen a human here before. Everyone, from small to tall, had eyed him as though he’d had three heads. Maybe with more interest than if he’d had three heads. It was clear his kind were extremely exotic, if not completely alien to this world. He had to wonder… Could Cutter be a victim of this Isekai GameLit bullshit world as well? Could cutter also be from Earth? He salivated at the idea of someone who could share the understanding of how hard it had been to come here. Maybe someone who would be equally motivated to get home.

  Pod said, “That’s good beer, innit?”

  Tiller took another big pull from the tankard. “It really is. And it’s cold. I didn’t expect it to be so good in a place like this.”

  Pod said, “The other ones are better, but they’ll run you a half or more. The stout, Tiller, lad, the stout is like whipped cream turned black and bitter.”

  Tiller noticed that the hostility had, for now, passed from Pod. Was this a bonding moment?

  He said, “I love a good stout. Here, bang this with me, my first beer in Scape.”

  They knocked tankards, Pod clearly becoming excited at the prospect of someone to share a drink with rather than occupying his little corner on his own.

  “What else do they have?”

  “There’s lager, clear and crisp, you can see right through it. And there’s the porter, like the stout, but it’ll blow the top off your head. And the ales, Tiller, the ales. There’s one, all hoppy and strong, like heaven. Only the bastard will make you pay a coin a pint for that one.”

  Tiller said, “Pod… Listen, if we can make things work with the business, well… whatever happens in the meantime, you know, with the cuts of the profits, well, once I’m gone you’re going to inherit a chunk of a huge farm. It’s going to have to be huge. You’ll be rolling in it, Pod. You won’t even notice paying a gold coin for a pint.”

  Pod’s eyes had widened, his face a mask of wonder. “You think… you don’t think I’ll have enough cash to make amends with ol’ Dave and get let back in there, do ya?”

  “What kind of amends?”

  “I have to fix his toilet.”

  “Well… I don’t know what something like that would cost, but honestly, yeah, probably. I’m not building a farm here, Pod, I’m building an enterprise.”

  “Well, I’ll be blinded. Wouldn’t that be something. I miss Dave’s place. I’d love to be let back in.”

  Tiller decided that it would be worth sharing another pint or two with Pod before he went about the work of his tables and purchasing plans. It made perfect sense. His relationship with the leprechaun and his wife was pivotal to the success of his future endeavor. He loathed wasting coin on beer when he needed to grow his business, but in a sense, this was an investment too. Wasn’t it? It certainly wasn’t an excuse to get a buzz going and feel good for the first time in a long time.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Tiller hissed at the ceiling as Pod started to doze off, “It’s not an excuse.”

  No, it was the furthest thing in the world from an excuse. Tiller actually loathed the malty richness of the beer, the creamy texture of the head, the mild but floating buzz. He wished he was somewhere else, having nails driven into his butt, one at a time, by an ugly horny troll. He only indulged to build his relationship with the grumpy drunken leprechaun.

  Pod eventually slumped over, leaning his little frame against Tiller. Tiller was far from delighted with the development but it freed him to get to work.

  He felt some urgency. He had the sense that he’d spent more time in the tavern than he realized, and had a sudden fear that he might miss the closing times of the stores. Besides that, he was loathe to walk back to the farm in the dark. He made quick work of his book, praising the Egyptians, or whoever it was, that had invented paper. He’d started with 38 gold. He’d spent three and a half on the pen and paper. That left 34.5. Then he’d spent three-quarters on beer, which he now cursed himself for. That left 33 coins and three-quarters. He desperately wanted an axe so he could start harvesting wood, but the cheapest axe he’d found was in Glubb’s shop and it cost 12 gold. Glick had enough seeds on offer, and seemed eager to make a deal. He expected he could bundle all of his seed requirements, and the odds and ends like sacks, in a purchase at Glick’s and get a few coins off. But if he spent 12 on the axe, he’d only have 21 and three-quarter coins left to buy seed. He expected he could get Glick to bargain and throw in a packet or two of seeds with a 21 coin purchase.

  “Well shit… I’ll make the most off the long growing crops, but I can get back here to sell and reinvest quicker with the fast growing crops. I am a little bit afraid of coming back with too much of one thing though… there needs to be a market for it. If I buy 6 packets each of the carrots and the onions, and don’t lose any to pests, I’d be coming back in ten days to make 240 bucks! It will really rocket off after that… Plus, I still have some corn and potatoes back at the farm to harvest.”

  He stared at the page before him. Tiller hated, absolutely hated, moments like these. The moment where a decision had to be made from which there would be no returning.

  “Okay. I need to do something, and I need to do it fast. I guess that’s the best plan. I can’t fucking remember how many corn and taters, god, now I’m talking like them. I don’t remember how many corn and potato plants I have left to harvest. But look, I make a deal with Glick, get 12 packets and some sacks for the 21 and three quarters, then run over to Glubb and get the axe. Even if Glick wants a smidge more, Glubb was down to make a deal before. I could probably get the axe down to 11.”

  He was about to rise and go when two shadows crossed his table.

  He looked up to see the twins standing there. They were hideous. Their bodies were wrapped in heavy black leather armor, spikes and studs, knives, little crossbows. Their green faces were patchworks of scars and piercings. He felt himself swallowing hard.

  Staring at him darkly, they each slowly dragged a stool from the opposite side of the table and, like the shadows of death, glided down to take their seats.

  Then they started speaking.

  “Pip pip, old boy! I say, a little bird whispered in our collective ear with the dreadful insinuation that you were entangled with a predicament that could only be solved by the untimely demise of an individual unknown to us.”

  Tiller blinked quickly. The rich tone of the goblin’s voice rattled him.

  Pod stirred, eyes cracking open.

  The other goblin joined the conversation. “Doubtless, you would benefit greatly by availing of our services and we would be most humbled by the opportunity.”

  The first goblin slapped the second on the shoulder. “Theodric, we have failed to introduce ourselves.”

  The second, Theodric, clasped his face in an expression of dramatic horror that seemed all too real. “Norris, I am mortified. Simply mortified. Dear sir, excuse our dreadful lack of courtesy. I am Theodric, this is my brother Norris. Collectively known to the locals as The Twins. Our choice of employment is regrettably crass, but it leverages the sigils and paths we were born with.”

  Norris added, “Dreadfully sorry, old boy. I’m aghast at the delay in introduction.”

  Two war beaten faces, eyes yellowed and hollow, fixed him. After a moment, he realized what they wanted. “Oh! I’m Tiller. Um… nice to meet you.”

  “Oy, I’m Pod, I am.”

  Norris said, “Oh, Tiller! Pod! So good to make your acquaintance. Well then, without further ado, I believe all parties would benefit greatly from explicit details of what would be required of us.”

  Tiller said, “I, well… you see, we have this problem. I’m starting a farm and-”

  Pod grumbled, only half awake. “Want ya to kill Bonk!”

  The two goblins reared back, hands on their chests, exchanged concerned glances, then surreptitiously glanced around.

  Tiller said, “Would that be… would that be a problem?”

  Norris leaned in, speaking low, “It would probably be best not to broadcast the object of your distaste so voluminaously again. But no, that would not be a problem.”

  Theodric said, “It would not be in our best interest for this… individual to be aware of your intentions. In a straight fight I fear even the two of us might be outmatched, despite our plethora of skills and experience. But should this hearty fellow be taken unawares…”

  Norris added, “And he’s a boorish lout who bothers the girls. Especially Sophie.”

  Theodric nodded vigorously, “Most boorish. Most boorish indeed.”

  “So… we can make a deal?”

  “Well, my good man, we can always make a deal. And, please forgive me, I don’t mean to be so terribly direct, but there will be the unpleasant matter of discussing the bill.”