Squad Games [Squad Building LitRPG] [Book One Complete]

MERCS:

Wilson 'Twerk' Turk | Bletcher | Georg 'The Hoffmeister' Hoffman | Victor 'Pecs' Balinski | Eddie 'Fortune' Rich | The Baron | Liudmila 'Mila' Stradenko | Jaelin 'The Explorer' Topolski | Larik 'The Bludgeoner' Hunder | Lothar 'Stiff' Sauer | Odafe 'Smoke' Negedu | Mary 'Mental' Jenkins | Henning 'Tree' Teller

Character Sheets:

Lothar left Avolo with The Rotten Apples. The goblin king's advance west had forced his hand. Somehow, he had to stop an army. And let's be honest, he told himself. The only thing I'm any good at is killing.

The odds were certainly not in his favour. He had received a major boost, however. Sal Blair's merc, Clamor, was accompanying them. Lothar walked at the front with the three scouts, keen to pick their brains for any information that might help.

"I appreciate the help," he told his fellow Hargon.

The scout gave him an odd look, as if he was not used to people speaking to him. "I've been tracking the goblins with Tree and The Explorer. I will not leave them in the lurch now. Besides, the goblins are a threat to all of us. They killed my friends."

"Of course," Lothar said amiably. "I wonder, might I have a look at your stat sheet? To best learn how to deploy you?"

"Let's get one thing straight," the scout said in a gravelly voice. "I'm not an Apple; I'm still a Blade. I don't answer to you. I'm an ally—for this mission, and this mission only."

"Got it," Lothar said. I get the feeling he doesn't like me very much.

Tree and Jaelin couldn't help smirking at the exchange.

"I'm keen to learn about the enemy," Lothar persevered. "Any units we should be wary of. Does the king have a bodyguard? That kind of thing."

"No," Clamor told him. "The only difference is that some goblins are trained and equipped as warriors, while the rest are just ordinary goblins. The warriors fight with spears; a few have bows."

"And definitely no wargs?"

"None. From what I've been able to tell, the Kuthenians forced the goblins off their lands east of the Auster. It is flat territory, and I imagine they do not have access to wargs."

"Unlike those out west," Lothar mused, "like the goblins of Strong Club. We don't want the two groups to meet and unite, that's for sure."

"That would not be good," Tree agreed. "There is a problem if your plan is to target the king," he said, with a look at Clamor.

His fellow Hargon scout sighed, as if he had already done enough talking. "We tried that at Dorwich. I killed a goblin who spoke as if he was the king. He wasn't. The king takes steps to hide his identity, at least when faced with an enemy."

"Oh," Lothar said, disappointed. "I thought there might be a special bodyguard that would tell us where the king was."

"No such luck," said Tree.

"And what about this mage? He's trying to get into your heads?"

"He still tries it from time to time, when we get close," Tree confirmed. "He must be able to sense our approach."

Lothar let out a long breath. "That's a lot to deal with when we only have Bletcher to counter him. So, we have a mage who can sense us coming; a king who refuses to reveal himself; and thousands of armed goblins."

"That's the size of it," Tree agreed.

Lothar was silent while he mulled over his options. Whatever he decided, it had to be done quickly. The goblins would reach Eisenberg soon—there would be nothing left of the town when they were done.

"This mage senses your approach," he said at last. "He knows you've been tracking the army, and he'd be surprised if you gave up now?"

"I suppose so," Tree said. "Why? For some reason, I don't like where you're going with this."

"I think, if we're to stand a chance, we need to put this goblin mage at ease. That means taking you three out of the equation. It would be preferable if you could lead some of the goblin warriors away while you're at it."

"I think I see what you're getting at," Clamor said, a measure of respect returning to his demeanour. "But I don't know where we can lead hundreds of goblins and not get killed in the process."

"The Swamp," The Explorer spoke up.

The other two gave him dubious looks.

"I've been in and out a few times," Jaelin insisted. "It's hard going when you don't know the terrain. Easy to get lost. We could lead them a merry dance there. I'm sure of it."

"How far?" Clamor asked.

"We'd be going at full pace," The Explorer said. "From here, we could do it in a day."

"An entire day running from hundreds of goblins?" Clamor asked him. "It only takes one mistake, or one injury, for us to get caught. They can afford to take endless risks—they only need a few to take us out."

"I understand that. I'm not guaranteeing we'll make it. But if it's what needs doing, that's our best option. I've travelled the terrain in between, while they'll be in unknown territory. It gives us a chance."

Clamor and Tree nodded their reluctant consent.

"Good," Lothar said. "Before all that, I need one more thing from you."

His scouts returned with their spoils—the clothes and weapons of a goblin warrior. Tree passed them over to The Baron.

"The vest has got blood on it," the thief said with distaste.

"Funnily enough," the Hargon replied, "the little green bastard wouldn't part with them when we asked nicely."

The Durnishman wandered off with his fresh disguise.

Lothar interrogated his scouts on the disposition of the goblin army. It crawled across country, the goblins searching the farms in their path for sustenance. But they could reach Eisenberg in a day. He knew the Apples had to act now.

"Look what I caught watching us," boomed a voice. Pecs appeared—in his clutches was a goblin, who he dragged over.

Lothar cursed, grabbed the hilt of Slayer, and drew his sword.

Pecs laughed, while the goblin removed an amulet from around its neck, and turned back into The Baron. The thief had a rather smug expression, while Pecs continued to guffaw—in Lothar's opinion, long after any humour in the situation remained.

"I suppose I should be pleased to see it works," Lothar admitted. "Alright then. We're ready. If any of you are the praying type, now's the time."