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

"Food and lodging is on me," Lothar told Christoph, as the young man was preparing to return home. "Thanks for ensuring that rescue mission was a success."

"Not a problem, Stiff. It's been nice to see more of the world beyond the farm. But Auntie will want me back now."

"How is Femke doing?"

"She's well. Hasn't developed more patience, however."

"No surprise. She's a busy lady. I have a favour to ask of her and wondered if you'd deliver the request?"

"I suppose so."

"You heard we lost Tree?"

"Yeah. I was sorry to hear it."

"It's left us dangerously low on healers. There is a tiefling in the squad, name of Oripione."

"A tiefling?" Christoph asked, with boyish awe.

"Aye. She showed real promise looking after our injured. Including Ashlyn."

The Bowman nodded, noncommittal.

"I'd be grateful if Femke could train her up. You could take her with you. Won't take long, and I'd send money, of course."

Christoph went a little red. "To the farm? Not sure I can do that, Stiff."

That answer was a surprise. Lothar studied him. "There's something you haven't told me, isn't there?"

The Bowman's mouth opened and closed without speaking.

"Christoph?"

"Alright. But you can't tell anyone."

"If that's what you need."

"It is. General Fei's informant in Fuyang turned out to be his daughter, Mei. The Kuthenians sent an assassin after her. He asked me to take her into Gal'azu and keep her somewhere safe. Somewhere remote."

"She's at the farm."

"Yes."

"Interesting. Do you know what was in that letter you gave to the mayor?"

"The general didn't tell me."

"He wants me to send a force into Kuthenia. To help in the war. There's some things need sorting out first. But I'm effectively working for General Fei. You can trust me. And I can vouch for Oripione."

"Alright then, Stiff. I'll take her."

Lothar's next meeting was with Seregin. They dined in Lothar's new house. Rosalind had done the cooking and ate with them.

"I need to sound you out about my next move," Lothar told him. "I have an offer from a rebel general in the north of Kuthenia. There's a war brewing over there. He'll pay the full wages of the force I take to fight for him. Could be as many as a hundred soldiers. I'd be interested to know if you would be a part of it."

Seregin pursed his lips. "I would."

It was good news. Very good news. And yet, the elf gives so little away, I am left with doubts.

"Perhaps Stiff would be reassured," Rosalind intervened, "If you were to tell us what your goals are in Gal'azu? I am sure he is grateful you are a Rotten Apple for the time being. But what else?"

"I suppose that is fair, since this is the best meal I've had in a long time. So long as it stays in this room?"

"Of course," Lothar agreed.

"Have you heard of my lordship of Ossilion?"

They shook their heads.

"No surprise. It was lost to my family four hundred years ago. The dark elves invaded my homeland. We fought them for a generation. Then my people grew tired of war and sued for peace. All the other great lords agreed that Ossilion would be sacrificed in a treaty with the dark ones of Cly'ath Denori'Kilith Tu'an."

Try saying that three times when you're drunk, Lothar thought to himself.

"I'm sorry for your family's loss," said Rosalind.

Stolen story; please report.

Seregin nodded at her. "Reclaiming my family's lands and honour means restarting that war, and my people won't agree to that. But I won't rest until I win back my birthright."

"Hence coming into human lands," Lothar realised. "But if the elves can't take Ossilion back, what chance do we in Gal'azu have?"

"I am prepared to be patient," Seregin said. "I have no other choice."

They were interrupted by a knock at Lothar's front door. More than one knock. In fact, a rather persistent knocking.

He sighed. "I thought this was meant to be a private, exclusive neighbourhood?"

"It usually is," Rosalind shrugged.

Lothar went to his front door and opened it. Several of his mercs were outside.

"So this is where you're hiding these days?" said Wilson, barging his way in uninvited.

With him came The Guvnah, Vixen, Bletcher, The Harvester, and Sharptooth.

"You're getting mud on my floor," Lothar complained, following them into his dining room, where Rosalind and Seregin had put down their cutlery.

"Very nice," Alfie commented, scanning the table. "Wonder when I'll get an invite?"

"Never, at this rate," Lothar grumbled. "Why in Gehenna are you interrupting our meal?"

"Big news in Mer Khazer," Wilson informed him. "Can't wait. The Bludgeoner and Heavy Hands have set up a Guild of Dungeoneers. They're recruiting from the Apples. Got half a dozen to sign up already."

The damned cheek of it. "After all I've done?" Lothar demanded, realising he was directing his anger at the loyal members of his company. "I can't afford to lose anyone now. Something big has come up. I'm gonna have to go to Mer Khazer. Bletcher, can you take me back?"

The wizard made a troubled face.

"I'll do it," said Rosalind.

"I'll come too," said Seregin. "I might be able to persuade someone."

Lothar wondered who might listen to the elf more than him, but now wasn't the time to ask. "Alright. Thanks for the warning. We might as well leave now. Nip this in the bud."

"So this food is going spare?" Alfie asked.

"Fine. Have it, you vultures."

It had been a good while since Lothar had set foot in Mer Khazer. As soon as he did, he felt his anger ease. He wasn't happy with the way Larik and Randall had gone about it. On the other hand, something needed to be done with the town. He never seemed to have the time.

They went looking for Rotten Apples. The first found them. Georg Hoffman came marching down the road.

"Well met, Stiff. I'm back in the Apples."

"I haven't even tried to persuade you yet."

"Yeah, well I was just talking with Larik and Randall. Apparently, bears can't join their guild. A hard rule on membership, so they said. If Hubert is out, I'm out."

"Good."

"One condition though."

"Oh really?"

"Eva comes with us. She could be really helpful, Stiff. In war, food needs preparing, clothes need mending—there are a whole lot of jobs—"

"—Georg. I get it. I'm sure she'll be invaluable."

"Oh. Thanks, Stiff."

"You're welcome. Where are the leaders of this little insurrection?"

"Holding court in The Squished Plums."

"I have an announcement to make. What about everyone else?"

"The rest are there, save for The Explorer and Mila, who are staying with me. I'll take you there first, if you like."

At The Hoffmeister's house, they were warmly welcomed by Hubert, who seemed to be holding up fine since Pecs' death. They were introduced to Eva, who was taken aside by Rosalind. Seregin cornered The Explorer, which left Lothar with Mila.

"We weren't planning on abandoning you," the girl told him. "But me and Jaelin have to think of our futures. Neither of us are soldiers, Stiff."

"I know. I won't have you forever. Like Wade and Femke, you'll settle down eventually. But I need you both. I lost a scout and medic with Tree. I can't afford to lose another pair. Not yet."

"Well, maybe."

"Come to the Plums with me. I've an announcement to make there. I think you'll like it."

"Alright."

He could tell she wasn't convinced. This business with the Sargassians had shaken people. "Also, did you know I bought myself a house?"

"Lucky you."

"My room at The Smashed Marbles is free. I want to give it to you and Jaelin."

"Really?"

"Of course. It can be a base for you both. Your own place. You deserve it."

"Thanks, Stiff." She beamed, then gave him a hug.

She was genuinely happy, and that was important to him. He looked across at Seregin and Jaelin. They had more sombre expressions, but both nodded at him, as if some agreement had been made.

Leaving Humbert and Eva behind, they went to the inn. The two leaders of the guild, Larik and Randall, looked a bit shamefaced at his arrival.

"You've heard, then?" the dwarf asked.

"Aye. Would have appreciated hearing it from you first, but you can't expect everything."

"Strike while the iron is hot, my father always used to tell me," Randall said. "But we apologise if we've offended you."

"Well, you have the right to leave and do your own thing. I thought you'd all want to know, however. The Apples have a major contract from Kuthenia. Everyone will get paid their daily wage, every day we're over there. Whether you're on a mission or not. It's a reliable income, and it could last months. You might make something similar from a few dungeon raids…but I doubt it. So, who's in? You can always restart the guild when you return."

Lothar felt confident. Only a fool would say no to that kind of money.

"I'm in," said Rilie Rumblewind.

Lurin gave his cousin a look. "With that income, we can retire after a few months and afford to take a gamble on this guild."

Randall looked hesitant.

"You can't leave!" Larik told him. "We've just set this up. We need to make a go of it."

Randall gestured at Lothar. He had Jaelin, Mila, and Georg with him. Rilie had jumped ship, and Lurin was ready to. "How can we make a go of it with no adventurers?"

"I'm not giving up, to get killed in some war in Kuthenia that means nothing to me. This is a different path. A better one."

"I'm sorry," Randall told him. He addressed Lothar. "I'll return, if you'll have me. You gave me Splitter, and I owe you more service. But when Kuthenia is done, I'm coming back to this project."

"Of course," Lothar agreed. "Larik, no offence taken either way. You'd be welcomed back into the Order, and free to leave on your terms."

Larik shook his head. "I'm a dungeoneer, not a merc. Money doesn't change that."

"Fair enough. My door is open should you change your mind."

The harsh truth was that Larik didn't make much difference either way. Lothar had won back his lost mercs. They'd soon be packing and heading east.

Then it struck him. He looked around. "Wait a moment. Where are Wynter and Rake?"

"No one told you?" asked The Hoffmeister. "They left at Eisenberg, before we got to the Deepwood. Some issue with The Guvnah, I think. It was all rather strange. You need them?"

"Oh, you know," Lothar said, letting his frustration get the better of him. "I only need to kill Wynter and force Rake to marry Clara Foberoy."

He received some troubled glances at that outburst.

"And you're all going off with him instead of me?" Larik asked, not unreasonably.