The Mimic Becomes a Merchant King

The group took to the road again soon after daybreak. Essine had taken a seat in the rear of the wagon, and soon the noise of the rumbling wheels was joined by the faint snoring of the kobold. Coin turned to watch her, just to be sure she was indeed still asleep.

"If we bring her with us into human towns, will she truly be... fine?" he asked, giving Elijah a curious look.

"If she keeps her hood up and doesn't draw any attention, there shouldn't be any issues. Yes, I see that worry on your face, you needn't worry. Kobolds aren't exactly loved by commonfolk, particularly in more rural stretches, but they get treated a damn sight better than goblins do."

Coin frowned, turning and facing toward the road. "How's that?" he asked, eventually.

"Well..." Elijah hummed, groping for the right words to use. He reached up, tugging the collar of his shirt against the balmy heat of the morning. "Humans don't love kobolds, of course, but they don't inspire the same hate as goblins do, or the same fear as ogres. Of all the 'monstrous' races, they tend to generate a more neutral reaction than most. People are more inclined to tolerate them is what I mean. In the larger cities you'll even see kobolds living there. In the sewers, middens, and slums, mostly. But, still, they are allowed to live somewhat within the confines of society. More than can be said for others."

He glanced to the horizon, his wrinkled brow furrowing. "You still have those who hurt and mistreat kobolds, but it's not a consistent thing," he added. The old man didn't sound too happy.

"But... why make the distinction? I'm surprised people in Arcadia will live with kobolds at all if they're ultimately fine with killing them." The more thought he gave it, the stranger it seemed.

"Think of it this way. Kobolds are like... an infestation of mice, in the eyes of humans. An inconvenience, certainly, but something that some will overlook as long as the mice don't get too cheeky or messy. Goblins, on the other hand, are like an infestation of hornets. Violent, unpredictable, and certain to make life very difficult if the infestation isn't dealt with quickly. There are those who can tolerate mice. Nobody can tolerate hornets."

So that was it. The kobolds weren't seen as much of a threat, if at all. Life and its cruelties had left the kobolds trodden underfoot, and they seemed to simply tolerate whatever was done to them. But the goblins were as defiant and brutal now as they had been centuries ago. Each kick they took was simply added to the ever-growing pile of grudges.

"I've travelled across the length and breadth of Arcadia. Been to the isles off the western coast, even did plenty of deals in the lands of Eldergard and Veskland out further east. So, believe me when I say I've seen plenty about how people treat the likes of kobolds," Elijah explained, motioning to the air around them. "One time I was sitting in a tavern when one of the local lads came in, saying that a kobold burrow had been spotted nearby, a modest walk from the outskirts of the settlement. He said it conversationally, like he was just talking about the weather. And the others muttered and groused into their drinks, but ultimately they seemed fine with it as long as they didn't bother anyone."

Coin nodded. "That's some kind of acceptance, I suppose."

"And then a few months later I was in a different town, taking in a nightly drink. One of the locals barged in, all red-faced, and said a goblin burrow had been spotted a short distance from the outskirts. Without any hesitation, just about every other local got up and grabbed anything they had in the way of weapons. They marched to the local Adventurer's Guild to commission them to take care of it. And that was that. There are those who can tolerate mice, but nobody can tolerate hornets," he repeated.

Silence lingered between the two men. Essine was still fast asleep, huddled in the fabric Elijah had offered her. "We'll have to keep an eye on her. Just in case," Coin eventually said.

He thought back to the terror in her eyes as he loomed over her last night. It had been fear mixed with what he could only call a sense of... resignation. She had believed, truly, that she was about to die at his hand. That kind of fear had to have been deeply rooted in her mind. And Coin had no doubt that the kobold had suffered immensely in the past.

"Might get a few queer looks, humans travelling with a kobold. But, on the other hand, I'm too old and too rich to care about what other people think," said Elijah, chuckling. "But it would be prudent for us to be watchful. Most folks are indifferent or annoyed by kobolds, but a few folk may get violent to see humans consorting with one."

"Well, let them think what they want. But if they cause us any trouble," Coin clenched his fists with a strength that could crush stone into powder. "Well, they won't like the end results."

From his understanding, humans frowned on random killing. But if they gave him cause to get violent, it would be perfectly acceptable for him to respond in kind.

A strange quirk of civilization. If someone, in broad daylight, thwacked Essine's head from her shoulders... it would likely be seen as acceptable. Some witnesses would grouse and complain about it being a touch rude, or moan about blood being splashed about, but ultimately few humans would care overmuch to see a kobold killed before their eyes.

Meanwhile if Coin did the same thing to a human, that would have been a horrible crime. Conversely if he went around as a slobbering treasure chest, no matter how eloquently he spoke, it would be perfectly fine for humans to stick him like a pig. Now there was a thought that made him uneasy.

He spared a glance over his shoulder at the still-sleeping girl. "Not very fair at all," he noted, speaking almost inaudibly.

Well, it was another thing for him to look after. He'd keep the kobold safe for as long as she was with them, it seemed the right thing to do and it would certainly be a headache if anyone thought they could hassle his group and get away with it. And the idea of someone killing her just made Coin feel... bad.

But, as ever, his main focus was on making money. Lining his pockets, being so weighted with ducats that he'd struggle to even walk. As that thought crossed his mind, he focused back on the road.

"How much longer until we get to Sentinel?" Coin asked.

Elijah considered this, for several moments, before fishing a dogeared journal from the inside of his jacket. He flicked through a few of the worn, yellow pages, before one unfurled to reveal a faded map. It encompassed a vast swathe of land, and when Coin peered over he could see that it covered the entirety of Arcadia, all the way to the mountainous borders with Eldergard and Kambor.

"Let's see, if Wheat Valley is here," he traced a line with his gnarled finger, "and we went through here, here, and here... Assuming there are no interruptions on the road? Another three days or thereabouts."

"And then we can really start making money?" Coin asked, grinning at the prospect.

"Oh yes, my lad," Elijah replied with a hearty chuckle. "We'll need to make a stop at the Mercantile Guild in Sentinel, make a record of our recent transactions. Not worth much for raising your rank, but everyone has to start somewhere, and so far you're doing far better than most other rookies. And in Sentinel, my lad, you'll get your first real taste of success."

So, filled with renewed excitement and a previously unknown sense of anxiety, they rode onward to Sentinel.