There is no response. Phoenix stands and looks around, at the village, into the cave and at the trees nearby.
“I must be going mad,” Phoenix starts. “I’m hearing things. Or talking to myself.”
“No,” the squeaky voice responds. “You’re just being lazy. You are looking and listening. But ya do not see.”
Before she can react, she hears the sound of metal shimmering through the air. A coin is flicked directly onto the top of Phoenix’s head, where it lies perfectly still and balanced. She hears a short giggle nearby.
Phoenix quickly grabs the coin in frustration and looks up.
A female goblin is lying down on the cave’s roof, tilted to one side and looking back at Phoenix, her head supported by one of her hands. The other waves a silly wave at the young elf.
Phoenix scowls in frustration. “I don’t have time for this.”
“You don’t even know what ‘this’ is.”
“A stupid goblin playing stupid games, with a stupid girl whose life is falling apart, that’s what,” she says, angrily, her heated emotions giving way to false confidence.
“That’s not fair,” the goblin squeaks, casually flipping down from atop the cave to land feet-first on the ground beside Phoenix, smiling up at her and standing proudly.
She is dressed in simple boiled leather, yet somehow makes it look almost elegant, with her basic-looking shin guards and arm guards perfectly scaled to her short size. She wears a scarlet red cloak with fine gold stitching, a patch over her right eye and thick jet black hair rests just above her shoulders. A narrow rapier is in her holster. A small golden inverted triangle brooch is adorned to her leather breastplate. The mix of both poor quality and expensive-looking clothing is jarring.
“The name’s Trixie,” the little green-skinned goblin says, holding out a gloved hand towards Phoenix.
“I just wanted to help a local beggar.”
“I’m not a beggar!” Phoenix retorts, ignoring the short outstretched hand and putting her hands on her hips.
“You took my silver, did ya not?”
Trixie’s voice is piercing and high-pitched, with a wild twang. Phoenix’s is prim and well-spoken in contrast.
“I didn’t ask for it,” the elf says to the goblin.
“But ya took it anyway and knew it wasn’t yours. So you’re a thief, then?”
“Ah, by the Sunwell!” Phoenix cries in aggravation as her heart thuds hard in her chest and tiny spikes of rage jut into her mind. She throws the two silver coins onto the ground by Trixie’s feet like a toddler having a tantrum. “Take your money back, I don’t want it anyway!” Phoenix spits. “Who are you?”
Trixie smiles, saying: “I already told you my name. You spent the first silver rather quickly, which suggests otherwise. So you’re a beggar, a thief AND a liar.”
“Shut up!” Phoenix moves towards Trixie and tries to grab her as her rage rises, having to lean down to reach the goblin’s head.
Trixie grins as she avoids a grapple: “A beggar, thief, liar and a thug.”
Phoenix kicks towards the goblin, uncontrollably; she doesn’t care if she loses control anymore. Time seems to slow slightly and Phoenix feels groggy, like she’s underwater. She makes weak contact with the goblin a couple of times, but Trixie easily evades and parries Phoenix’s poor instinctive attacks.
In an instant, Phoenix’s boiling anger fizzes away and is replaced by sadness. She stops flailing, uncurls her fists, turns away and frowns. She feels a little drowsy.
“What do you want?” Phoenix whimpers. “Can’t you see I have nothing? I am nothing…”
“Relax, kiddo,” Trixie says soothingly as her smile fades, her voice easing over Phoenix like a calm wave. “My, you have a short temper for someone so small who cannot fight...”
Trixie notices the bruises and blood stains on Phoenix, as well as her cut-up clothes. “But it seems you have guts.”
Phoenix mulls over the ‘small’ remark, turning back around and looking down at the goblin half her size in slight confusion.
“I don’t have guts,” she sniffs. “I am pathetic. I am a danger to myself.”
Trixie pauses in thought.
“Tell me….” she says, reaching up to pat Phoenix gently on the back. “One gold for your thoughts. No begging. Just money for information - think of it as a fair trade.”
“Why? What’s it to you?” Phoenix mutters, her curiosity piqued.
Trixie places a gold coin into Phoenix’s hand and folds her fingers around it, ignoring her question.
“No questions from you yet. How did you get here? Who are you? What’s your story? Maybe I can help.”
“How?”
“I’m a trader, from Stranglethorn.”
“Why are you here giving money to beg… big elves?”
“H-hey, I said no questions! Your story first, then I’ll share mine.”
Phoenix looks at the goblin for a moment through puffy eyes and considers. She sighs and comes to the conclusion she has nothing to lose.
They sit quietly on the grass and Phoenix eats her other sweetroll as she begins to tell her story to Trixie.
“My name is Phoenix. Phoenix Dreamfoil,” she starts, offering her hand to the small goblin, this time the handshake succeeding. Trixie is taken aback by the elf’s sudden change in tone and looks a little perplexed upon hearing her name.
Phoenix tells the little green goblin almost everything, from the relationship with her mother to her capture, her sheltered life at the inn and leaving it behind, but avoids mentioning the murder or the manner of her escape from Silvermoon. Every now and then, Trixie passes her hip flask to Phoenix, who has a few sips of something strong. And with her sharp witty comments and charm, she even manages to make the young elf laugh once or twice, and think light of her situation.
Finally, Phoenix speaks worriedly about the ultimatum given to her by the bandits in black, and the threats they made. She uses this as an excuse for not returning to the inn, saying it could endanger the staff there.
“I know this group you speak of,” Trixie says, her eyes narrowing, her bright voice bringing light to a dark situation. “Firstly, I will give you the coin to pay them, so don’tcha worry about them…”
Phoenix is humbled by this act of kindness, and lost for words, though her eyes light up a little in appreciation.
“Why would you do such a thing? Who are you?” Phoenix asks again. “Like, who you really are, not just your name. You promised you would tell me your story.”
Trixie smiles at the elf’s inquisitiveness and innocence.
“I did,” she responds, nodding. “Come. There are some others I would like you to meet.”
Comments (0)
See all