Merchant Crab

Balthazar stood outside the front door of his bazaar, pincers behind the back of his shell, observing the group of men carrying an improvised stretcher up the road to Ardville. As it turned out, the young mage the crab had seen going into Semla Dungeon a couple of days prior carrying that Elderwood Staff hadn’t even made it to the dark halls filled with savage skeletons.

According to one of the adventurers who had found him, he was lost in the darkness, yelling and pleading for help without a single torch to light his way. That wasn’t his worst problem, however.

The merchant thought the axeman had been exaggerating when he described the state they had found the young mage in, but when they passed by carrying him back to town, Balthazar realized it looked every bit as grim.

He lay on that stretcher, robe full of tears and covered in dirt, a glass-eyed look as he stared emptily at the sky above and muttered nonsense under his breath. His left arm was crossed over his chest, his hand grasping his right arm tightly. The sleeve on that side was completely gone, ripped off at the shoulder, and whatever was attached to it looked nothing like a human arm anymore.

In place of skin it had old, dark bark, instead of muscles it had rugged knots of wood like a tree’s trunk, and at the end, where a hand should have been, the branches curled around a green gem.

The adventurer moaned in pain at every bump on the road, clutching his right arm and making pleas to nobody in particular. “Please… Get it off me. Get it off…”

Balthazar couldn’t help but notice the staff the boy had been carrying before was nowhere to be seen, and how much his new appendage resembled the magical weapon.

“First missing feet, now arms turned into wood,” the crab said to himself as he watched the men reach the town gates in the distance. “Tsk. That’s what happens when you buy shoddy gear from questionable sources.”

Glad to, for once, having nothing to do with that piece of bad business, Balthazar shook with a chill and turned to go back inside where it was warmer, when a familiar gruff voice called him.

“Hello again. I’m back as promised.”

The merchant turned to see his favorite carpenter walking down the path to his bazaar with another man next to him.

“Ah, John! Welcome back,” he greeted. “I see you brought company.”

The other human accompanying him was about as old as John but taller and leaner, and while the carpenter’s hair was black and gray, his friend’s was entirely white, including his beard, which had a more clean cut.

“That’s right,” the retired craftsman said. “I said I’d bring you someone who knew how to work stone, and here he is. This is Mason.”

The taller man waved a greeting at him, clearly aware of the foolishness of offering a handshake to a crab, unlike most other humans Balthazar usually met.

“Ah, that makes sense,” the merchant said. “We need to work some stone for the kitchen, so you brought me a mason. Nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

John chuckled. “I just told you his name.”

Balthazar cocked an eyestalk at the carpenter and then looked at the other man.

“Your name is Mason?”

“That’s right,” the white-bearded elder said with a smile.

“But you are also a mason, right?”

“Correct.”

“So you are a mason who is called Mason?”

“Indeed,” Mason said, hands behind his back and an amused expression on his face.

The crab let out a quick chuckle. “And then they say I’m unoriginal when naming things. Was your father a mason too or something?”

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“Oh yes,” the tall man said. “And his name was also Mason. As was his father’s name before him.”

“Let me guess,” said Balthazar. “Your grandfather was also a mason?”

“Oh, no, no,” Mason said, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he bounced himself back and forth on his heels, hands still behind his back. “He was a maker of glass jars.”

The crab squinted at the man, but John spoke up before he could say anything.

“I’ve known and worked with Mason for decades, since we were both young lads, and I can promise you, there is no one better at working stone than this old dog here. Show him where and what you’re planning, and I’m sure he will know what to do.”

The merchant nodded and led them inside through the bazaar and then outside again through the back door, until they were at the empty area he had shown John before.

Balthazar went on to explain his plans and ideas as he had done with the carpenter already, all while Mason nodded and rubbed his chiseled jawline as he listened, scratching his white beard idly in thought.

“So that’s about it, four or five ovens here, a big work surface there, some stone sinks over that way, and then another counter over yonder,” the crab concluded, skittering around the currently empty space next to his bazaar as he waved his claws around. “It should all fit, right?”

Mason inhaled deeply, his gaze returning from his thoughts and focusing back on Balthazar.

“A good amount of work, but yes, it can be done. There are a couple of slight hitches, however.”

“Like what?” asked the merchant, raising an eyestalk higher than the other.

“Well, for one, this is going to be a lot of work, even with John’s help,” said the mason.

Balthazar sighed, dreading his least favorite part of these things. “Ah, this is the part where you will ask about pay, isn’t it?”

The tall old man chuckled earnestly.

“No, don’t you worry. The arrangement you have with John will work just fine for me too. A friend of his is a friend of mine, after all. Besides, at my age, what do I want money for? I’ve got no kids to leave it too, and I lead a simple life that doesn’t cost me much. No, the real recompense I’m after is the pleasure of taking on a good project with my old friend here one last time.”

Mason looked at the carpenter, who smiled back and nodded in recognition.

“Not a lot of people are willing to give retired old folks like us big jobs anymore,” John said to the crab. “So we’re just glad to have an opportunity to dust off our skills and see if we still got it.”

The other man crossed his arms and shook his head with a smile.

“I swear, John, if I had to go another month doing nothing but fixing Jacob’s millstone again, I was going to lose my mind, hahaha.”

The two elders chuckled at each other in amusement as Balthazar tapped one of his feet impatiently while looking at his wrist, for some unknown reason, as crabs do not wear watches—and neither did anyone else around those parts, in fact.

“Yes, it must be nice to have lots of free time when you’re retired and all, but can we get to the point? Some of us got lots of junk to sell to unwitting adventurers. What were the problems you were talking about?”

“Ah, right,” said the mason as he cleared his throat. “Even if I won’t charge you for my labor, that still leaves the matter of the materials. Don’t expect me to provide all the stone needed to build what you planned, because I neither have it nor can I afford such massive amounts of it.”

The merchant smirked knowingly.

“Stone, eh? That won’t be a problem. Look around, I’ve got lots of nice, big boulders. We can use them.”

Mason turned and walked a few steps to the edge of the enclosed area around the pond, where a long line of boulders separated the crab’s territory from the road.

“Hmm, yes, these would do,” he said, running his palm down the stony surface of one of the boulders. “But that would still leave the problem of manpower. John and I are tougher than we look, but we’re still just two men. This will take a long, long time without some more strong arms to help do the heavy work.”

Once again, a knowing smile stretched across Balthazar’s face.

“Heh, I’ve got another boulder for that.”

Seeing the mason’s intrigued gaze, the crab added, “Would a giant golem who can lift entire trees over his shoulder be helpful to the job?”

A grin spread across the man’s face, framed by his white beard. “Ah, John had mentioned something about you having a golem. That would indeed make things a lot easier!”

“Great! Bouldy is currently still making his way back home, but he should be here soon,” Balthazar said, clacking his claws. “You can also count on my goblin assistant, Druma, to help you with whatever he can. He’s not exactly brawny, but he’s surprisingly handy with tools.”

“Sounds good,” Mason said, grabbing the rolled-up measuring tape that was clipped to his belt. “I’d still like to check the terrain some more first, though. John, help me out with these measurements, will you?”

As the crab watched the two men stretch the tape over the clearing where he wished the baking kitchen to be built, a familiar voice came from the back of the bazaar, making Balthazar smile broadly before even turning.

“Hello! I hope I’m not interrupting,” a young girl sporting a blonde braid over her left shoulder and carrying a basket in her right hand said.

“Madeleine!” Balthazar exclaimed, throwing his pincers up in a cheer. “You showed up at the perfect time. Come, come, I’ve got a surprise for you!”