(Book One Complete!) Friendly Neighbourhood Goblin (Mercenary Company LitRPG)

Sylas was leisurely examining a seashell when Denna and Stump appeared in the lighthouse threshold. His leather armour had been replaced by a series of tightly wound bandages across his chest.

"Got what he needed?" he said, tossing the find over his shoulder.

Stump nodded. "No more hauntings. Well, no more than the normal amount." He approached the catfolk under his curious stare, and dropped his voice low. "I wanted to thank you—"

"It's not needed."

"Maybe not, but I wanted to anyway." Stump breathed deep and grimaced at the twang of pain in his belly. "Thank you for your help. And Germott, too. You saved me when things might have gone badly."

"You still ended up with a dagger in you."

"Yes, but… you're not very good at this, are you?"

Sylas shrugged. "We all have our faults. Did you get your reward from Wasptongue?"

"The silver. She'll be training me once we get back."

"Ah." Sylas turned his head at Germott's approach. "We'd best be off, yes?"

"Finally," grumbled the other Ocelot.

The catfolk—felari, as Wasptongue had called him—gestured to the boats with an exaggerated bow and smiled at Stump. "After you," he trilled.

Stump clutched his bandages and stifled a grunt before he took the first step.

It was also the last.

He would have yelled, if not for the force between his shoulder blades. A shuddered breath left him as he stumbled forward and kissed sand. There was a high pitched scream, and when he rolled onto his back, the rapier point grazed his nose.

"No sudden movements. We'll make this quick," said Sylas, standing at the other end.

Denna was farther behind, prying at Germott's arm around her neck. "Release me!" she demanded. Her voice cracked.

Germott gently pressed a dagger to her ear. "Same goes for you. Move an inch and you'll carve that pretty skin of yours."

"What do you want?" said Stump. He was surprised to not feel the bloodlust simmering in his veins. He wasn't afraid, he realized, just disappointed.

Sylas smiled thinly. "The silver, obviously."

"That's it? You throw your honour away for five pieces of metal?"

The Ocelot chuckled. "You haven't been paying attention, darling. We had our moment on stage, you and I, and we recited our lines as was expected of us. But the play is over and the crowd is gone. What more is there to say?"

Stump refrained from reaching for the glimmer in his pouch. "Why?" he demanded.

"Why does the seawing dive for fish? Tell yourself it's a fine for spying on our operations at the tank if you need a reason."

Stump paused. He does remember me. "Did that bother you so much?"

"On the contrary, it quite impressed me. That and your grasp of Lumenurgy." Sylas lowered the tip of the blade to Stump's neck. "The silver, if you would."

Stump searched his pouch under the oppressive point of the rapier and produced the coins. My earnings. My first real quest.

"Here," he hissed and chucked them at Sylas. They clinked against the bandages and scattered to the beach.

Sylas bent down, blade at the ready, and deftly fished the coins out of the sand. Once the silver was collected he relieved Stump's throat and made an unnecessary flourish before gliding his weapon into its scabbard. "You may not believe me, but I'm quite fond of you, Stump."

Germott released Denna and started for the rowboats. "Nothing on her person, unfortunately," he said, and clapped Sylas on the back. Together they trudged to the water.

Stump pushed himself to his feet with gritted teeth. "This is your idea of fondness?" he called after them. "I thought you'd be better than that. Clearly I was wrong."

Sylas stepped into their vessel and Germott slipped an oar in the water and pushed offshore. "That was your first mistake," said the felari. "The Midnight Ocelots are where they are because they see the world for what it is. As do I. Take it as a lesson and you'll thank me when your company rises above the others."

"There are nasty people in the world, everyone already knows that. That's no lesson at all." Stump raised his voice to catch them as they drifted away. "I'm going to do it differently. With kindness."

Sylas' chuckle lilted over the breaking waves. "Where you employ kindness I'll draw my blade for a pocket of silver, or entice a mercenary with the promise of glory. Or start a fire to send a message."

Stump thought back to catching the Ocelots only an island away from the brewery after it had gone up in flames. Start a fire to send a message? The system gave him a mental nudge, informing him that the quest Fire On Seabrace had been updated. Of course it was them. It was never the ghosts.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Stump waded into the water, letting the waves roll over his toes. "You do as you like," he called. "But I'm going to help people. Lift them up. And I will reach copper. I'll reach bronze too, and silver and gold, and no one like you is going to stop me."

"If that's so, I imagine we'll be seeing each other again," said Sylas, before the fog closed around him.

Stump sat in the boat with his head down and his ears tucked to his shoulders. Every once in a while he'd steal a glance up at Denna, who rowed them back towards the brewery. She grunted with each pull, the bandages on her arms holding tight.

The soothing rhythm of the journey did little to ease the heaviness in his chest. After some time he focused on the system, mostly to distract himself from the betrayal.

Fire on Seabrace (Completed)

Sylas, a member of the Midnight Ocelots, has all but admitted it was they who started the fire that claimed much of Wasptongue's brewery and storage. Questions still remain about the true motivations of the arsonists, but a satisfactory suspect has been found.

Rewards: 2.5 silver (claimed) + free Lumenurgy training with Wasptongue

Completed by: Stump

Assisted By: Morgish (Unaffiliated), Denna (The Iron Fleece)

When Stump returned to the world, he caught Denna staring at him.

"You alright?" she asked softly.

He looked out to sea, hoping the droning of the waves against the hull would drown out his thoughts.

It didn't. "Do you think he's right?" he said.

Her eyebrows bunched up. "Sylas?"

He nodded.

"What? You mean about…?" She paused rowing for a long breath, then resumed. "I'm new to this mercenary business myself, you know, but I've been surrounded by it my whole life. My brothers, all three of them, joined when they turned nineteen. My father waited another year to find the best one for me—for him, really. It was a strategic move. He wanted an alliance with a gold company, so he chose the Iron Fleece. I hated him for it. I thought it was going to be awful, all greed and fighting and wars… but it wasn't. The Iron Fleece wasn't like some of the other companies my brothers joined. They're all about protecting the innocent. The people who can't protect themselves."

Except if they live in the Downs, Stump thought, but he held his tongue. He didn't know for certain if that was actually true. Maybe they had been to the Downs for a quest before. Maybe they'd done it many times. From Thread to Thread We Defend, their badge had said. You couldn't come up with words like that and not live by them.

"I used to think that's what a knight was," he said. "I read a lot of stories about them protecting people. Saving them."

She fumbled for a reply. "They can. They do. Some of them, at least."

"It's just a class, though. You said it yourself. Expert Weapons, Heavy Armour and Animal Handling. That's all it is."

Denna gazed out to the horizon as if some wisdom might be found there. When she returned with none, she shrugged. "Is that so wrong?"

"I thought being a knight was at the end of something. Maybe you'd be kind and help people, and protect them, and defeat evil. Then after all that you'd… I don't know… find it somewhere."

"What, under a rock?"

Stump suppressed the urge to smile. "No. I don't know what I'm trying to say. I just thought it would mean something."

"It doesn't, but that's alright," she said. "You can do all of those things without being a Knight. Without ever being one."

He fell silent, listening to the waves undulate beneath them. She was right, of course, but somehow that didn't make him feel any better. "Oh," he said, remembering Garron. He reached into his pouch and displayed the badge, marred with scratches and coated in grime. "I meant to give this to you at the lighthouse."

Denna regarded it skeptically. "What is it?"

"It belonged to Garron of Grimsgate, from your company." He held it out to her.

She pulled the oars in the boat by her knees, splashing water around their feet, and plucked it out of his hand. She turned it over, letting the light illuminate her company words. "You found this?" she said, surprised.

"Outside the city. He was killed by goblins. My tribe, actually. Sort of. There was this book involved and some magic, and…" he sighed. His shoulders slumped. "It doesn't matter."

He let his eyes wander out to sea again. Small bits of land covered in dying flora served to occupy him.

"Stump," Denna said after a while. Her voice was small.

"Yes?"

"I want to give you something."

He raised an eyebrow. "Give me something?"

"Hold out your hand."

He did so sheepishly. A moment later her hand met his. Her warm fingers curled around his knuckles. She gave him a gentle squeeze, and he found he didn't want her to let go. But when she did, five silver coins glittered in his palm.

He gawked. "You… I thought you left them…" he looked between the coins and her, and back again.

Her eyes were bright with mischief. "My boot. My brother taught me."

"I can't take this," he said.

"I want you to have it. I have more than enough."

"But your company. It's the reward for the quest."

Denna shook her head. "I'll make it up on my end. Please, Stump. All that you said about your company and kindness… I believe you. I want you to have it."

His fingers closed around the little silver discs. He felt their weight in his hand and the imprint of their make and saw their glow bleed through his fist. It was money. Real money. It was rent, it was food, it was badges, it was enough to hire someone to join him, or to buy a nice desk where he could hold meetings for quests or interviews. It was whatever he wanted it to be.

"I don't know how to thank you," he said.

A smile tugged the corners of her mouth, but she scoffed it away. "It's me thanking you," she said, and started rowing again. "I may be the Knight, but you're the one who rescued me from the tower."

He reluctantly filled his empty pouch with the coins and carefully tied it shut. "Are you going to stay with us until Morg recovers?"

"I can't," she grunted between oar strokes. "I've been gone a week. Everyone will be thinking I've died."

"Oh. Right."

"Is that alright?" she asked, noting the subtle dip of his ears.

He tried to appear outwardly unfazed. "Of course," he said. She was from the city, the real city, not the Downs. Once she crossed back through its walls he imagined he would never see her again. "I just… it was nice working with you."

Her pause suggested she took his meaning. "I'm sure the leader of my company will want to hear what happened to Garron on the road from the goblin who witnessed it," she said, leaning forward to place the badge in the hull beside him.

Stump stirred, but the warnings from Reema and Jin tempered him again. "They won't let me inside. They don't really like goblins, I think."

"Unless you're with me. Perhaps when you and Morg are recovered I could give you a tour of Aubany proper and take you to the hall of the Iron Fleece."

He brightened. "Are you sure?"

"I am. Besides, someone's going to have to teach me Lumenurgy, and there's only one goblin I'd trust to do that. But only if you'd like, of course."

Stump looked to the horizon again and felt his spirits lift and yawn and stretch their legs. He smiled. "I would like that very much."