Spin Offs, Beans B

Spin Offs, Beans B

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“Who-that?” Kik asked, pointing with his chin.

Pot-Liz-Zuk noisily gobbled down another mouse then gave a dismissive shrug, “Some ambassador from east. Heart-tree-something-and-another… Valley, think-I. Came for winter visit. Talk to Historian. Big-deal, magic-home. Makes wooden boxes, tricky-sorts of boxes.”

“Who’s the hume?”

“Oh, him big hero. Fought the fey-twisted one. Mage-gone-mad-from-too-long-life… or maybe just troll. I don’t know. He goblin friend.”

“Goblin-friend? Like in the old-days.” Kik gestured broadly.

“Maybe-ya. Has the mark. So-it-be-said.” The old goblin flipped his ears, a matter of fact.

Kik felt his eyes widen, “They mark him as friend. Wow, that weird.”

“More weird, wood-worker claims many of his home over one-hundred years.”

“High-weirdness.” Kik pointed to the green moon rising above the rooftops to the northwest.

Pot gobbled down another mouse, gave a tilt of an ear, “Yes. High-weirdness.”

“Think the deal’s-real?”

“Could be. Maybe just a game-of-fools.” Pot lowered his ears, “But what about other weirdness from back last moon-just-after?” His gestures were sloppy as he reached for another mouse.

“Fancy-man?”

“Fancy-man. He come back?”

“Nah. Just found him twice. Both goings were to stone-kin.” Kik made a point of underscoring his disdain for the Brv-rocht with a double gesture of discarded waste.

Pot made appropriate rude noises as well, “Too-bad-found-and-lost-so-sad.”

“Ya. Dark-be-down-soon. Should be going.”

“Ya-ya. Mouse?”

“Nah. Had meat-tarts earlier. Belly-good.”

“Belly-be-bad with all the cooked meat you eat.”

“Food-is-food.”

Pot waved him off. Kik dropped down the facade of the building, only making brief contact with the structure so his descent did not turn into a plummet. He skipped off into the nearest alleyway leaving the old goblin behind. Pot was alright, too wise to put on pretenses and too old to be competition. Maybe he was over thirty, not many goblins lived to such a venerated age. Kik hoped he would be doing as well eight years from now.

He made his way to the candle makers place, he watched the building from across the street for a while. It was a modest sized three story building, somewhat on the narrow side. The lower level was the workshop and store, the second level was where the family lived, from both those levels he could see dim lights from within. The upper level was smaller than the lower two, mostly due to the slope of the roof, no light could be seen through the small windows. He kept watch on the house and the surrounding rooftops, no one else seemed to be skulking around the area and the small apartment remained dark.

Satisfied he was not moving into a trap, Kik made his way over to the candle makers place. He stayed on the rooftops, moving carefully and quietly. From the adjacent building he hopped over to the small window on the east facing. He settled on the window frame, perked his ears and listened for any troubles that might lurk within. When he was satisfied that the upper level was in fact empty, he tried the window. The shutters folded open with the slightest of creaks, there was no glass pane. Not many within the Grey had glass windows.

The place smelled fresh with the slightest hint of forest flowers, there was no underlying mildew smell. There were well dressed sewing mannequins towards the far end of the apartment, lots of heavily framed paintings, most were stacked behind the displayed dresses. A sizable bed dominated this end of the room, he spotted a couple of small wardrobes, a vanity near the window, a few chairs and small tables were scattered throughout. A narrow stairwell lead to the lower level. He wondered what other magic might be within the room, some sort of enchantment was at play. The lack of dust and mildew was not otherwise possible. He lurked on the threshold weighing the odds of there being protective magic.

Tentatively he placed a leg through the window then set his foot to the floor. When nothing unusual happened he relaxed and moved fully into the apartment. All seemed well.

Kik had no interest in the furniture, paintings, dresses nor the numerous pairs of shoes and boots that lined the walls. Quietly he took his time inspecting the place, starting with the tables, most of which had nick-knacks of various sorts. The vanity had a mirror, cosmetics and a box of jewellery. On many of the tables and the vanity there were small portraits in gilded frames. There were many small boxes of stone, wood and metal. Under the bed were a number of not so small boxes, at least one of which appeared to be a lock-box for coin and other small valuables. There were vases, painted plates, figurines of glass and metal.

The old lady sure had accumulated a lot of stuff, any goblin woman would have had envy and respect for such a hoard.

There was no sign that the old woman had ever taken her meals up here, nor was there any food. Also, there were no candles or brazers, the only obvious sign of heating for the attic apartment was the chimneys coming up from below and passing through the roof, but no fireplace. As for light sources, humans did not see well in the dark, he saw nothing obvious at first. Then he noted a modest sized orb in a three legged stand of bronze, place prominently on a centrally located table. As well, a small statue of a naked woman stood on a bedside table, the statue held a small orb as well. She had owned light orbs? Very expensive and hard to get.

His nose lead him to the source of the forest-flower-smell, a small statue of an elf or fey-creature, more magic. He had seen enough, though he could have looked through boxes, the wardrobes or any of the drawers that many of the tables had. Not to mention, he had not really searched for any hidden nooks. Regardless, he took the fey-creature and the naked woman with the small orb, which to his dismay activated when he picked it up. He dropped it on the bed, yet it remained lit. He grabbed it again to stuff it under some blankets, but then the light went out. He froze, the dim light from the statue had blinded his sensitive eyes.

He set the statue down on the bed and waited until his vision returned. The noises from downstairs seemed normal, the children were going to bed. All was well. After a while he took out a sack from under his sack and wrapped the two statues, then he took the lock-box from under the bed, it was heavier than he had expected. Gold within? Realistically he had what he could reasonably carry, though he was very curious what else he might find here.

He gave the place another quick scan, but knew it was time to leave. He had always kept to his rules about burglarizing a place; take only what can be easily carried, never stay too long and never go back a second time.

Maybe he would let the Fingures know about this place, they would certainly be interested.

 

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