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

When Lothar entered the lounge of The Smashed Marbles, he found a warg laid out by the bar.

Sharptooth raised a tired head.

"Go back to sleep, boy," Lothar told him, and the warg settled back down.

"Not sure what this'll do for business," Suzie said tartly.

"I presume Wilson—"

"—He's waiting for you over there."

Lothar sat at the gnome's table. "What's up? You got here quicker than I thought."

"I rode on Sharptooth."

"Rode on him?"

"Yep. We were doing our best with the Sargassians but hit a snag. We agreed I should come and get help. Experimented with riding Sharptooth, and it turned out well. More than well, actually. He carried me all the way here, no bother."

Some of your mercs improved their stats:

Sharptooth:

Agility +1

Grit +1

Hit Points +1

"Anyways, every settlement in the west is in danger, as are the Apples I left behind. We need your help."

"Not anymore. Once we killed Amotken, the Silent Warriors were freed from their ensorcellment. Those who had homes to go to left. The rest have been found quarters in the city."

"That's all very well, Stiff. But that wasn't the snag. The general of the force we dealt with—and a young woman, perhaps his sister—were both undead. Seemed like they only discovered it for themselves when we tried to kill them. After that, they each got a big dose of courage and had the upper hand. That's why I left to get help. Unless you think that spell is broken?"

Lothar thought of Stricken and the escaped princess. He knew for a fact it wasn't. "I see. Then I'll have to get a crew together, I suppose."

"Hurry up about it, Stiff. They could be causing some real mischief by now."

The Guvnah agreed to take Blueblade west with Wilson and Sharptooth. Alfie could do with some back up, just in case. Lothar had found it surprisingly easy to persuade Vixen, Wynter, and Rake to go with them. In fact, looking back on the conversation, he hadn't needed to use any persuasion at all.

That only left the matter of heading west as quickly as possible. Hence, he and Rosalind had tracked Bletcher down.

They found him in a street near the docks. He was filthy and encrusted with mud. Rosalind set about explaining to him how to use the Staff of Hither-Thither. Lothar watched as she gave out her instructions, while subtly putting her hand to her nose when the odour got too strong. He grinned. He really didn't think Bletcher would notice, or care for that matter.

"I am confident I can do it," Bletcher said. "The gods have seen fit to elevate my powers."

"In what way?" Lothar asked, suddenly interested.

Bletcher gave him a confused look. "They favour me," he said vaguely. "We must have done their work in defeating the necromancer. Don't you think?"

"Aye, I suppose so." Should have known I'd get no sense from him.

Footsteps made him turn. A strange little delegation had found them. The Hoffmeister and The Harvester approached. Behind them, Hubert sat in the road, eating from a bag of nuts.

"Avolo is no place for Hubert," Georg said. "I would join your mission and take him west."

Lothar resisted the urge to remind The Hoffmeister that he'd declared himself out of the business. He'd been drunk, and hurting. "Very well, Georg. You as well?" he asked Vytenis dubiously. He already had more than enough for the mission, and the big Livanian was expensive.

"I can't sit around any longer, Stiff. Too many thoughts in my head. And this mission allows me to make up a little for what I did."

"You were enchanted, Harvester. No one blames you for it."

"All the same, I feel the need to do something. It's not for the money. I've already earned plenty since coming to Gal'azu. My services are free for this one."

"Alright. I can hardly argue with that."

Lothar strolled about his new house. He had an office where he could do his desk work. Downstairs, he had a fully equipped kitchen. Perhaps I should learn to cook.

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"Thank you," he said to Rosalind. He'd trusted her to acquire the property for him and she'd bought one on the same exclusive street as Urkal Foberoy's. It wasn't as large, but he didn't have family, or servants. Something simple, yet classy, suited him just fine.

"I'm glad you like it. It's what you deserve and fits the image you need to present to the world. You saved Gal'azu twice. You're a big player in the future of this land."

He smiled at her. "Always looking at the big picture, aren't you? Looking to the future. Must be tiring."

"Not always, Stiff. I'm quite keen on the idea of staying over here on an evening, with a fire in the hearth. Doing very little. Maybe cooking us something."

"Ah. So that explains the kitchen. Thought you were expecting me to be in there."

"Stranger things have happened."

"True. Like maybe, one day, you'll tell me about your and The Baron's plans."

"There's no big secret, Stiff. I think you already know. We want to create a new world in Gal'azu. A land without tyranny. Everyone in Gal'azu has left a country ruled by kings or noblemen. Where property is owned by an elite few. Where the law of the land favours the rich over the poor. Take Durnost, or Hargony, or Livania. Power is so entrenched there it's almost impossible to change. In Gal'azu we are free to make a fresh start."

Lothar puffed out a breath. "By Gehenna, Rosalind, you don't do things by half, do you? You want to create a new society? I'm just trying to get through each day alive."

"What will I have to look back on when I die? Ever since I felt magic in my veins, I knew I would never be a mother. What's wrong with wanting to leave the world in a better place?"

"Nothing. I admire it. Not sure where I fit in."

"Not sure where saving Gal'azu from goblins and Sargassians fits in? Not sure what containing the power of the Golden Blades did? You've done more to advance mine and The Baron's goals than anyone."

"Who is he? The Baron?"

"That's for him to say."

"I suppose. Maybe I should order him to tell me."

Rosalind smiled. "You can try it, by all means."

It was the tiefling, Oripione, who was next to demand Lothar's time. He experienced a twinge of guilt, realising they had barely spoken a word since her hiring. She had an allegiance to Seregin but that was no excuse. She was a Rotten Apple and had the same right to his attention as anyone else.

"I meant to come and thank you, Oripione. I've been told how well you've looked after our injured in the last few days."

There was no change in her expression at his words, and he couldn't decipher any reaction in those sea blue eyes. "That's what I've come about. I need your help with them. They won't listen to me anymore. I fear they'll leave today."

"Who? Leave where?"

"Felix plans to hunt down the Sargassian princess. And Ashlyn says she's going to kill Wynter Blair."

Lothar grumbled to himself about the burdens of running a merc company. But deep down, that sense of guilt gnawed at him. His mercs had suffered under a dark spell. Yes, he'd freed them from it. But he'd done precious little for their welfare since.

Clamor was exercising in the yard of The Smashed Marbles. Working himself to breaking point, Lothar noted. The scout stopped and regarded Lothar with hostile eyes. They had never really hit it off. The man had a residual loyalty to Sal Blair. And Lothar, of course, had destroyed the Golden Blades and killed its leader.

"I'm going," Felix rasped, getting to the point of the conversation.

"And when you find her?"

Clamor shrugged.

"When you find her, she'll kill you. Because you don't have Blueblade, and she can't be killed without it."

Clamor grimaced.

It must pain him that I'm right. But the man needs to hear a few home truths.

"Then give me the sword and let me take my revenge."

"We'll go after that princess when I decide the time is right. I've sent a team west with Blueblade after some other targets. And that's what'll happen when they return. A squad will go after her, and make sure it's done right. Going off half cocked on your own is what got you caught. It's what got The Harvester and Vixen caught when they went to find you."

It's what got people killed, Lothar could have added. But that didn't need saying. He could tell those deaths were what weighed on Clamor.

Even so, it looked like Felix might hit him. The man's fists opened and closed as he stared at the ground. Then he looked up at Lothar.

"You're right, Stiff. I'm a selfish bastard. Going after her would give me something to do and stop me stewing. The memories torture me. But I deserve them. It's your decision who you send to get her. I just ask that you consider allowing me to go. I'm still the best tracker you have."

"I'll consider it. Though you should know, I've already got a pretty good idea where she is."

Clamor gave him a look.

If I didn't know better, Lothar thought, I'd say I've finally got a look of respect from Felix Rittel.

He found Ashlyn packing in her room.

"Off to kill Wynter Blair, I hear?"

"I told that tiefling bitch my plans in confidence."

"She's not a bitch."

Ashlyn sighed. "I know. I didn't mean that. Look, it's easier for you if I deal with this on my own. Then it doesn't come back on you."

Lothar sighed. He wondered whether the girl would ever learn her lessons or end up alone. Like Clamor. "Can you at least tell me what the fuck happened?"

"Just before I got caught, and that undead hag did this to me," she said, pointing to her face.

Lothar fought down a wince as he looked at her scars. She'd been so pretty. Too pretty for a merc, in all honesty.

"I was running, trying to escape. I followed Wynter and Rake, since Blair had said something about finding Mental. They reached a barn first. As I went for the door, and before I knew what was happening, she kicked out. Sent me flying, into the path of said hag. Then they shut the door and left me to it. Must be Rake had worked out it was me who killed Rylan. The details only came back to me yesterday, otherwise I would have cut her throat before she left."

Lothar nodded. "I understand. But can you not see how this is my fault, Ashlyn? It was my decision to hire them both. And if one of my mercs turns on another, it's for me to dish out the punishment. I can't let it be said that I allowed you to go off on your own and did nothing about it. That's no way for a merc captain to behave."

"I see it. But I'm not interested in your punishments. I need to kill her, or she'll kill me."

"Did I say the punishment was something other than death?"

She looked at him. "Seriously? You're not playing with me, Stiff?"

"Someone tries to kill one of my mercs, it's the same as if they tried to kill me. That's the only way it can be. A lesson you should learn."

"Why do I need to learn a lesson?"

"For when you have your own company."

It came and went in an instant, but there had been emotion on Ashlyn Sawrey's face at that.

"Alright, Stiff. I'm a Rotten Apple, so I'll do it your way."

The tiefling had given him no warnings about Mary 'Mental' Jenkins, but he figured he should check on her as well.

"Folks are struggling a bit," he told her, depositing a couple of ales onto the table in the inn. "I need to know how you're holding up after what happened."

"Don't think my experience was as bad as other people's. Nothing I can't handle."

"They don't have to be as bad to be there. And you don't have to handle them alone."

Jenkins took a long glug of drink, not bothering to wipe off her foam moustache. "I was already called Mental, Stiff, so no change there. And I've already spent years living with something I can't control. So nothing new there, either. I know what it's like. I'll look out for the others, though. Give them the benefit of my experience, if they're inclined to listen."

"I appreciate that. And if they've any sense, they will too."