The cloaked man ordered a drink at the bar while Pat'ul and Joseph waited for him at a table, its wood clearly decaying, creaking at every slight prod.
"Why are we here?" Pat'ul whispered, pain still straining her voice. "We have a trail to follow, we should be looking for Luna!"
"We are looking for Luna—" she cut him off.
"No we're not we're waiting on the word of a fool, sitting in a filthy Tavern," She looked around with a grimace on her face.
The place was a mess, every bit of furniture was scavenged, from the dead city standing in the backdrop. Office chairs made barstools, pool tables used for dining, and ancient cheap beer being passed off as "aged" and sold for twice the korral.
"This place reminds me of home," Joseph said, a faint smile on his cheek. "Me and Martin used to steal beer from a place just like this back on the eastern rim." He chuckled to himself. "The five boroughs were hell,"
Pat'ul rolled her eyes, he wasn't listening to her, just stuck in his head like always. She looked down at her horn, two carvings in the side.
Call home my beautiful moons. Under transcibed, Luna + Callisto.
She rubbed her finger across the words, humming a song, low and soft.
"You have a beautiful voice," the cloaked man said sitting down, ale in hand. "I haven't heard a voice like that before, reckon you're not from around here are you."
"No, we aren't" Joseph cut his flirting short. "What can you tell us, what happened to our tribe?"
The cloaked man smiled, as he took a swig of his drink. "Korral?"
"Well pay when you talk," Joseph's voice was stern.
The man laughed and set down his drink. "Listen tribe boy, I don't know how things work in the shit shoveling world but here, payment comes before the deed."
"I know good and well how things work here" Joseph pulled his sleeve back, showing a tattoo spanning his entire arm. It read Queens Bruiser ll.
The man's eyes widened. "So you're not a dirt kicking oldlander after all?"
"So I'm not." Joseph shot back.
The cloaked man took another sip of his drink and sighed. "Your tribe went south, they left early this morning, if you leave now you might catch them." he laid his hand out asking for his payment.
Pat'ul grimaced at the sight. "This is all you have? Directions that could be told from the tracks they left in the mud!"
The man smirked, "More words cost Korral," he said, shaking his hand. Joseph reached into his pouch and pulled out five shards, before he could hand it over Pat'ul stopped him.
"You can't seriously be thinking of paying this urchin—"
Before she could finish Joseph handed over the Korral, sharpening the man's grin.
"Now tell us what else you know," Joseph knew what he was doing, he had done many deals like these, the push and pull was just part of the game. Still, he tried his best to ignore Pat'ul's scorching glare.
"This seems like a good amount," the man said, tightening his grip on the glimmering crystal. "Now if I remember correctly I recall seeing an old broad, waltz through town last night coming from your little enclave." Joseph and Pat'ul looked at each other sharing a thought in unison
The Elder?
They leaned in as the man continued. "She headed into the pharmacy, it looked like she was in a rush too, looking over her shoulder, hiding her face. I mean if she was a scavver it'd be normal, but a self righteous oldlander?…Just sayin' If I were you I'd ask Phil at the pharmacy, he has a client confidentiality clause but," The man leaned in whispering, "It's bullshit—down the road east you'll find it, shabby building with the words drugs hangin' off the front, that's his pharmacy, careful though he is a strange one." The man then grabbed his drink and swiftly stood up, stumbling to a dark corner of the tavern, counting his korral, not returning a single glance.
Pat'ul scoffed "Was it worth the shards Joseph?"
"We'll see after we talk to Phil." He replied with a hint of annoyance behind his voice. They both left the bar in a hurry heading for Phil's pharmacy. The cloaked watched them as they left, he couldn't help but be…curious.
The wind slapped them the moment they stepped outside. Astoria was colder at night, the kind of cold that seeped into wounds and bones. Pat'ul winced but pushed forward.
"Down the road east…" Joseph muttered, scanning the crooked signs and collapsing storefronts. The "DRUGS" sign flickered half-dead, hanging by a single rusted bolt. Vibrant vines covered the building, unlike the others.
"That must be it," he said.
Pat'ul's grip on her bow tightened. "Joseph… if the Elder was here, something is very wrong."
"I know." His voice cracked, just for a moment. Then he steadied it. "Let's just talk to Phil."
They walked up the rickety wooden stairs toward the door that hung on one rusted hinge. Joseph opened it, only to be met with darkness, and the faint smell of herbs and dust.
"Hello?" Joseph said, scanning the area. The walls were stocked with prescriptions, wrapped in paper, a counter stood in the back of the store a faint light emitting from behind it.
Pat'ul and Joseph approached it slowly, her hand tightening on her bow, his on his machete. They peeked over the counter before a man jumped up startling both of them.
"Hello! Welcome to Phil Pharm, I'm Phil—here for your pharmaceutical needs. If you have any. If not, I'll sell you drugs anyway." Phil's eyes landed on the two strangers, both armed and ready.
"Are you… here to rob me? Because I don't got nun' you want. 'Less you want drugs. Then yeah I do. But they're cheap. No need to rob me!" He clicked a button beneath the counter. The store exploded into light.
Finally, they saw him fully. Phil stood barely four feet tall, skin the color of grass trying to recover from winter. His ears curled like hooks. His arms looked like smooth bark. His eyes glowed a steady, unnatural green.
"What are you?" Joseph said, half-whispered, convinced the dim light was tricking him.
Pat'ul narrowed her eyes, studying his features. "A—Goblin?" she said, confused that one of his kind would be here of all places.
Phil's face fell instantly. "That's a first. I've been called… many cruel things in my life. But goblin?" He looked down, voice small. "Damn."
Pat'ul blinked, taken aback. She hadn't meant it as an insult—just a fact.
"Goblin" meant something on Akrinn. A race. A people. Not an insult.
Her confusion deepened. Goblins lived in Akrinn—mostly in outer Holds, never in the cities. The First Colony banned them from most settlements. And the World Bridge absolutely forbade their passage to Earth. So then…
How in Moedunn's name was this one standing in a pharmacy in Astoria?
"Are you guys still gonna rob me? I'll give you a discount if you don't" he said hands raised in the air.
Joseph realized he still had his weapon drawn. He lowered it to his side, Pat'ul did not.
"We aren't here to rob you Phil, we just want information." Joseph said trying to calm the situation.
Phil's hands lowered slightly, his eyes still focused on Pat'ul's bow. "Information?" he said nervously. "Yeah I can do that, whatever you wanna know—in fact a family just came through here, rich with Korral, they headed north if you wanna rob them—"
"We aren't thieves gobli—" Pat'ul corrected herself. "...Phil we are looking for our tribe—a man told us an old woman went through here yesterday,"
Phil's eyes looked up as he searched his memory.
"She was an oldlander like us, tattoo's on her face, though from what we heard she may have had a hood on."
They waited for Phil to come up with an answer, but he just stood there stuck.
"I don't remember an old gal come through here, least not one with tatts, did have one with hemorrhoids though, old Matilda, she ordered the cream, and applied it right in my store! Nasty bitch" he said, nose scrunched up. "But no tatted woman."
His hand rubbed his chin, before his eyes widened. "Wait! You said yesterday! Oh my partner was running the store yesterday, he probably knows who you're talking about too, he's always keeping track of people, the creepy bastard, let me get him!"
The little green man went into the store room, disturbing the beads that hung from the door's frame. Loud banging sounds could be heard, as he scrambled around.
While they waited Joseph slowly looked over at Pat'ul.
He pointed to the spot Phil had been. "What the hell was that? Some weird moonie creature?!"
Pat'ul nodded her head "A goblin, they are common back home, usually they feign mute when near humans, but this one is…strange."
Joseph smirked. "Feign mute—really. And you're sure he's a—goblin was it?"
"I am." she answered. "A very strange one."
Before Joseph could ask another question, something in the back room toppled with a loud crash. Then a swear word. Then Phil's voice:
"Get, your ass out here Glove, some people got some questions,"
Phil entered the room again, this time with small green cakes in his hand, alien by appearance.
"Glove's coming, the alcoholic." He scoffed. "Anyway he told me he knew the lady yous' guys are asking about, said he sold her a handful of these." He raised the pastries above the counter.
Pat'ul recognized them. "Repose cakes?"
"Mmmhmm, got these from a moonie merchant, says it puts people right to sleep, don't know why she would need it if she's really an old hag, don't they usually pass out after eating." he snorted.
Joseph looked at Pat'ul. "I mean the Elder rarely sleeps, just watches everyone like a hawk—maybe that was cause she couldn't go to sleep and she got the meds to help her."
"That doesn't tell us why she decided to leave us and take our!—" she paused. "Korral." She made up a lie.
No one needed to know about Luna she thought.
Traffickers might catch wind of it, and a missing teen girl was valuable to the worst kinds of people.
"Korral?" a familiar voice came from the storeroom. Just then the faint grinding of gears could be heard as no other than the cloaked man appeared from the beads.
"You again?" Joseph muttered. "Why the hell are you here." His temper shortening with just a sight of the man.
"Simple it's my business" the man replied.
Phil grimaced. "Our business you sack of shit."
"Our business" the man said reluctantly.
Joseph slammed his hand on the counter. "Are you shitting me? We pay you for info' and you, send us on this dumbass goose chase, knowing damn well you had the answer!"
Pat'ul watched Joseph with a small smile forming.
About time.
The man threw his hands up to surrender his metal arm pulsing almost alive, like a heartbeat. "I was testin' you," he said—too fast. "Needed to see…how you acted seein', little green thumb here."
Phil's head fell into his palm "Not this again Glove, I am human like you, I just look different is alls."
Pat'ul's brow furrowed. He really doesn't know?
Phil turned to her and Joseph. "He thinks you guys are–"
"I don't give a shit what he think's!" Like the prescriptions on the counters—Joseph's patience had expired. He pulled out his machete and raised it to Glove's neck. "I'm going to ask you this one last time, what do you know about our tribe? And if I don't like the answer, I will fucking bleed you dry."
"They headed south like I said, California, namely, the broad who was in here, didn't say much to me, but she rambled on about a huge payment of korral, and having to meet with a contact, then she bought the green narcotics and went on her way." Glove was honest for the first time they met him, the machete may have helped.
"Depths! That woman, so greedy always." Pat'ul hissed. "We need to go now Joseph."
Joseph pushed the Machete deeper, almost cutting skin. "Consider yourself lucky I left the boroughs behind" He said, now drawing blood. "Don't fuck with me agian, shit-stain."
He followed Pat'ul out of the store. Glove trailed behind.
"Wait!" he cried desperately. "I think I can help you!"
They turned around, Pat'ul annoyed, Joseph nearly on fire.
"What else do you have to say Urchin" she growled.
"You're from Akrinn, aren't you, you knew what Phil was, what he really was. I know where your tribe is, I set a tracker on your Elder before she left that only, I can pinpoint. I'll help you find them, but I need something in return."
Joseph, started toward him blade in hand, "You piece of—" Pat'ul placed her hand on his chest stopping him.
"What do you want?" She said her tone was stern.
Phil came outside, his face filled with worry.
"I want you to help me, and him," he pointed at Phil. "Promise to help us reach the moon and I'll help you find your tribe."
Pat'ul froze. She hadn't been near a World-bridge for nearly fifteen years, and for good reason.
"No, we can find them off their tracks"
"But can you do it quickly, can you find them in time? Look I don't know why your looking for them but it must be pretty important, if it has you stumbling around town as hurried as a startled deer."
Joseph interjected. "I got a better idea, we kill you, if you don't help, saves us a lot of time and effort."
Gloves face fell, desperation threading his voice. "If I don't get to that moon I'm as good as dead anyway."
Joseph sneered at him, "Dramatic, bastard."
His eyes met Pat'ul, holding the conversation, their voice couldn't.
Glove watched them, transcribing every glance he could.
After a long minute, Pat'ul sighed. "We leave now!"
Glove and Phil jumped in excitement.
"I'll go pack." Phill said, running into the store."
"Don't forget my arm oil!" Glove looked at the couple, that same smile back on his face.
"Seems we are going to be spending a lot of time together."
Both Pat'ul and Joseph sighed. They didn't need to say anything, they both had the same thought.
Great.