dufantun nights: the first deal

“HEY! UNICORN!”

Unicorn?

The goblin looked up from his game of hazard and scanned the heads of the crowded tavern. As his attention evaporated, so did a sizable portion of his table’s pot, as if it had never been there in the first place.

“Oy!” A dwarven woman slammed her palm in front of him. “What kind of racket are you operatin’, you slimy mage?”

“Hm?!”

“All that false coin you owe, you best win it back or be ready to pay!” Her demand was echoed by murmurs from every brigand at the table. A half-orc cracked her knuckles. This was no heroes’ tavern, after all.

“My dear woman, I would never cheat an opponent out of winnings rightfully theirs! It’s against the rules!” The goblin stood to a chorus of hastily-drawn knives. “Easy does it- there’s something I simply must investigate, so let’s call it even with something of real value, shall we?”

Slipping a finger into his sleeve, he tipped his wrist to shake an extraordinary pile of jewelry onto the table, darting away while the gamblers clambered for a piece of the prize.

“Unicorn, unicorn, unicorn,” the goblin mumbled to himself as he sucked in his belly and parted sweaty shoulders, moving swiftly at the prospect of seeing one in the flesh. He had only read about them, these mythical and ancient ambassadors of virtue. He knew they could walk on two legs or four, and every story he’d ever consumed had described them as fantastically beautiful. If that was the case, what on Earth was one doing in a place like this? The goblin was dying to find out- and he didn’t have to wait long.

A clatter rang out from the direction of the bar, followed by a thud and a HURK in quick succession. “PARDON ME,” the goblin cried, shouldering his way onto the scene.

There, head damp with beer, clenching an empty draught in their fist, was, apparently, a unicorn.

The goblin frowned, deciding this was underwhelming.

A burly man lay unconscious at their feet, and a small, humiliated posse had shuffled forward to drag him away. “You’ll pay, you bastard freak,” one said. “For this, and for all of it!”

The goblin smiled, deciding this was more interesting than he anticipated.

The seats next to the unicorn had cleared like a plague site, and as they turned back to order a replacement, he sidled up close. “This taken? Thought not. Hi. Rossetti, at your complete and utter disposal.”

The unicorn glanced at him, frowned, and went back to watching the tavern keeper at the tap.

Rossetti cleared his throat. “So. What was that all about?! I assume this was your weapon of choice?” He gestured to the empty draught.

“S’what you get, fucking with someone’s drink.”

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more.” He leaned a cheek on his fist. Their voice wasn’t what he had expected. It was smoky, deep without gender, musical without dynamic. His eyes shifted as he pondered what might get them to say more. “But why the altercation in the first place? I mean. What did you do?”

“Anyone in this room could give you a better answer to that than me.”

“Bit of a reputation, then?”

They laughed, meanly. Their beer arrived with an angry slosh. “Finally,” they said.

Rossetti watched the unicorn drink, and marked the uniquely casual desperation with which one drinks who does so often. He watched their throat move in a practiced chug, their dark lashes fluttering. Condensation clung and glistened almost beautifully against the rubies jutting from their cheeks, beer or sweat, he couldn’t say. They gasped as they set the cup down. His golden eyes gleamed.

“...What do you want,” said the unicorn.

“Pardon?”

“You’re sitting here, staring at me, obviously there’s something you want. Out with it, so I can send you on your way.”

“You misunderstand,” said Rossetti. “I just wanted to get a look at you. A real unicorn. As I live and- well, you know.”

“Well, here I am, you’ve done it, and a real specimen too.” Their fine face pulled into a grimace. “Now please take your leave.”

“Come now,” the goblin sighed, twisting in his seat, propping his elbows on the bar and tilting his neck backward. “Is there nothing I could offer you for a little more time to gander?”

“You’re a piece of fucking work.”

“Maybe so, my prickly friend-”

“I’m not your friend-”

“But I think I have something you might be very interested in.” Rossetti held a fist out under the unicorn’s face; their hand went to the hilt of their sword, until he unfurled his fingers to reveal a preternaturally perfect strawberry in the center of his palm.

The unicorn’s ears pinned backward as they lifted their chin and examined it. “... Oh I see.”

“What’s that?” He grinned.

“You’re some kind of faerie. A goblin. That thing stinks of glamour, and now I think about it so do you.”

His smile dropped. “You are truly the antithesis of fun, unicorn.”

“I-” They held up a hand, continuing to eye the fruit. “Ash. My name is Ash.”

“Ahh, so you are interested. I take it you’re aware of the kind of power the fruits of my realm have over those who are not?”

Ash glanced up at him with a frown. “I’ve heard about it.”

“You must be dreadfully tired of beer by now, right, Ash?” Rossetti drew a free fingertip across the lip of their empty, discarded draught. “You won’t get an offer like this again, from anybody else. And guess what?” They blinked at him, tight-jawed. He sighed. “You have to guess.”

“What,” they groaned.

“The first taste is on me! Isn’t that just terribly generous?” Rossetti turned again to face them, leaning into his knees, his feet up on a rung of his stool. He rotated the berry between his thumb and forefinger, watching Ash watch the fruit as its tiny divots caught scraps of dim tavern lamplight. His eyes shifted to their shoulders, their dark armor, all spines and domes, reflecting a flicker of strawberry red to match their eyes. “All you have to do is say yes. And... let me stay awhile.”

Ash’s eyes narrowed, but didn’t leave the fruit. Their breathing grew deep, then steady as they thought. “One fruit, goblin.”

“That’s the spirit!” Rossetti closed his hand over the fruit, and it disappeared, just like-

“WARLOCK!!”

“Oh, shit.”

Rossetti’s hazard table had begun to coalesce upon the bar, finding their precious jewels to be no more than another, slightly more convincing illusion.

“Friends of yours?” asked Ash, downing their drink in one final swig.

“Not precisely- why don’t you just wait outside for me while I settle this… Misunderstanding?”

With a grunt, Ash stepped off their stool. “I don’t feel like waiting for this to be over.”

Rossetti fell back against the bar as the unicorn suddenly unsheathed their blade, their strong, tight shoulders roiling under their pauldrons. The tavern crowd gasped as they swung it, heavy and precise, to point the tip at the group of angry gamblers and stop them in their tracks.

“You fight for this grifter?” The outspoken dwarf woman challenged. “And his foul, cheating magics?”

“I was coming back,” said Rossetti.

“Get out of my way,” said Ash.

“Just as well!” She turned to the other patrons, whose attention had all turned to the second brawl of the hour. “Even in a house of blackguards, this creature’s ledger takes the bloody cake! Who here has lost a brother, a father, to the lich’s right arm?!” A din of agreement spread across the tavern. She spat on Ash’s feet. Rossetti frowned.

“All of you. Move,” Ash said, taking a step toward the crowd.

“Aye, we’ll move! Come on, rogues - let’s show these bastards what happens when you cross the wrong town!”

As if ignited, the tavern rose up in a wave against the two of them, innumerable strong arms grasping to disarm the unicorn and drag the goblin to the door. Ash bashed at their heads with the hilt of their sword, knocking out a few, but not nearly enough.

----

“And STAY out. Freaks!”

The unicorn and the goblin found themselves in the mud in front of the tavern with the door slammed behind them, Rossetti on his hands and knees. Before he could reach his feet, he felt himself whipping backward, and his head slammed against the side of the building.

“I liked that bar,” growled Ash, gripping the front of his shirt in a gloved hand.

He laughed nervously, grinning. “Seems it was only a matter of time before that bar stopped liking you, don’t you think? Ah,” he started as they jerked him again. “Don’t take this out on me.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t. Just for fun.”

“Remember our little deal! Offer still stands; wouldn’t you just like to forget all about today’s misadventures? Play your cards right and you can forget about yesterday’s, too!” His eyes roamed across their face, his smile never waning, waiting for something to crack. “Come on, Ash. What do you say?”

They dropped him back to the ground, turned their back to him, and started walking.

“... Ash. Ash! Where are you going!”

“To find somewhere else to get high,” they called behind them.

The goblin smiled, scrambled to his feet, and jogged after.