It was almost time for another smuggling job.

This time, they would be spending more money than they were earning. The goblins were packed together like in a densely populated city. That amount of children couldn't be fed with the hunt from the empty forests nearby, even if the warg wolves were helping out by dragging uneaten carcasses home. They were going to import food.

Fyro would pay for most of their goods with dried rationing, something he said would be valued due to the risk involved in moving such large volumes himself.

Scratch looked out over the masses of barely dressed goblin vassals sleeping in the open air without tents. It was a warm early summer night and there was no rain, but they had hardly any space to move in.

"What about the hill tribe, didn't you go out to get them?" He asked his lover.

Lydia Harkness had recently arrived back at the village and snuck stealthily around the children s bodies to meet him at his porch without waking any of them.

She shook her head. "Too late. The same story as with the mill."

He massaged the painful throbbing parasite under his disconnected sleeve. "So what's the deal with this 'slayer' business? What does it mean and why can't we just ice him like any of the other kids?"

"Can I come inside?" She gestured at the cave with her head. "It is cold outside. I'll tell you everything."

"It's not that cold."

"Not for a goblin."

"Okay, let's get you nice and toasty."

-

The foyer was still strewn with furs and blankets. A pile of stolen books in one corner and a small unlit fireplace in the other.

The main family slept here, Scratch's brothers and nephews. As well as his hobgoblin children. The mass of bodies heated up the room with their metabolism.

"Jasper, are you going to sleep soon too?" Scratch whispered to his son. The boy had two goblins laying on his legs and stomach and was looking at the pictures in one of the books.

"No." The boy said.

"Jasper, listen to your father." His mother insisted.

"Just to the end of the chapter." He tried to bargain.

"No, you-"

But Scratch interrupted her. "You can read as much as you like. But we'll all be waking up early in the morning, and you'll hate yourself if you don't get any sleep."

"You just let him do whatever he likes." Harkness criticized Scratch.

"I can't make their decisions for them forever. We can only teach them about the consequences." He insisted.

-

When they had carefully pushed Kicker and Biter aside they had their own place to sit, Harkness with her back against the wall, Scratch on her lap.

They quietly conversed in hushed tones.

"Can you see anything?" He asked.

"It's too dark for me, but that's fine." She answered.

"Are you going to answer my question?"

She hugged him a bit more tightly. "I want to..."

"Then do."

"I... come from a noble family, knights. The only people I ever knew were knights and baron families."

"Yeah, so?"

"Nobles aren't the same as adventurers. Everything is strict, there's rules for every part of your life."

He tilted his head up to look at her, she could feel it move but continued to stare out into the darkness. He wondered where she was going with this.

"I knew a boy then, my age-"

"Should I be jealous?"

"-my age. Also a knight. He was obsessed with killing goblins. He would skip training just to visit muddy hamlets and kill their goblins for them."

"Tell-tale signs, that's a serial killer."

"He would tell me about it sometimes. About slaying goblins. You see, slaying and adventuring are different.

Adventurers risk their lives, they seek out larger than life challenges to prove their worth and rise beyond their limits."

She smiled. "Or they're just kids playing around in low rank areas like you had to fight."

"Slayer, is that a... technical term?"

"It's a title. Someone specialized in eradicating a certain species of monster. They don't take risks, they don't leave anything up to chance. Every suppression quest is a series of specific optimized steps to exterminate their enemy."

"... A professional."

"Yes. This isn't someone your goblins can get the drop on Scratch. You won't catch him by surprise with a trap or better weapons. They can't even see him coming."

After that they were quiet for a while.

They could hear Jasper put away his book and disturb his cousins by turning over to sleep.

-

He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. "Can you give my a little spark?" He asked.

In the light of her own fire she saw him light a cigarette.

"I like that smell." She murmured as she rested her head on his and drifted off to sleep. "It smells... like... mana... potion..."

Cyclophan. I'm properly spooked now. Tell me you can track the movements of this slayer guy on a map.

I can only see lies. This man never lies, he hardly ever speaks. And in any case, I think that demon on your arm is more important.

Who never lies? Everybody lies, what do you know about him?

I told you, I can barely see him. The last time was when he got brushed off by the adventurers guild and now he's here. You ignored my counsel and left my purview.

So you can't help me with the serial killer.

Forget about that and listen to me! I am your god, and you will show me respect!

Yeah, yeah. You wanted me to pick one of your own favorites. I'll do that next time.

I am not able to see what you're doing when you leave my domain in the abyss. I knew what the entities in my domain were, but not the other ones.

Sheesh, I didn't mean to freak you out like that. Calm down, it's a leech that turns blood into magic.

It's called a manabelt. And it just produces mana, that doesn't give you the ability to cast spells without those spellrods. It's trying to poison you, isn't it?

...

You have been continuously ordering it not to pump toxins into your bloodstream. You can thank me and my familiar ritual that it even obeys. Demons are sadistic, Scratch, that's their defining trait. I was afraid that you were going to summon an intelligent one, one that could abuse the wording of your orders.

...While I was in there, I saw the demons as sparks of light of different sizes. Is that how big they are?

The demons don't have any form until summoned. The light is just the amount of power they have access to.

How powerful they are?

How much power they have access to.

I'd like to summon more demons in the future. I can, right? I'm not limited to one. Or to any amount of power.

You can have as many demonic familiars as you like, but it's dangerous to gather too many demons in one place. You'll make yourself an enemy of the gods.

Hah, I already am. It isn't like you to be so cautious.

That should give you an indication on how scary the good gods are. There's other uses of my devil altar you know. It's used for curses and mastery over the dungeon.

That catches my attention, you should have mentioned it sooner. I'll have you explain it all to me tomorrow.

Good. Interest in your job as dungeon keeper, that's what I like to see.

Scratch put out his cigarette. Oh, and Cyclophan? Thank you. For worrying about me.

J-jeez. I have to guide my champion, right? Don't get cocky.

-

The next day Jasper loudly groaned when the whole family had woken up and were talking over each other in a loud cacaphony.

Combined with the mass of voices from the goblins outside it made it impossible to stay asleep.

"Not so fun now, is it?" His father mocked him.

"Nooo."

"You're gonna go to bed early next time?"

"Yeees."

Mildred looked around her uncomfortably. She didn't want to run into any goblins.

Not that she wouldn't be able to fight them off. Goblins were a tier F fodder enemy, Mildred was a tier C adventurer, a trained mage. Even without guard to cover her body the halfling mage would probably be able to incinerate twelve goblin nests before lunch.

But she wasn't allowed to. That was the problem. If the thieves' guild got wind of her venturing into their precious bandit woods her goose would be cooked.

But that was the reason why she was here anyway. To find the man able to do that work for her.

She cleared her throat. "You are a hard man to find."

The vagabond didn't twitch or freeze up at her sudden statement. She had thought he would be surprised at her sudden appearance, and perhaps lash out in shock, but he had been aware of her all along.

"Yes." A gruff voice resounded deeply from within the man's chest. He didn't look up from the sword he was cleaning.

The man had prepared a small camp. It was barely livable. No fire or tent, just a sleeping back and some equipment sorted carefully in the grass.

"I knew I'd find you here somewhere. Remember me? Mildred from the guild, I promised you you'd find goblins here, and you did."

"Hrm." He barely acknowledged her.

She went to stand in front of him. "Am I a specter of the dead? At the very least, show me your face when we converse!"

"No."

She sighed. "I apologize. You are our goblin killing champion, aren't you? You do realize, that if you took quests other than clearing goblin nests you would probably advance to level D quite easily. You're a former knight I hear, there's a lot of chatter about you in Eston as a local celebrity."

"Hrm."

"You must really like goblins."

He violently stuck the weapon in the ground. "I HATE goblins!"

She smirked. "At last, a reaction. Now, ask me why I'm here."

"Why?"

"I'm glad you asked. You see, the goblins here are a bigger problem than you realize. The quest board didn't mention so many of them, did it?"

Now the man did show interest. His face was obscured, but his body language showed him looking at her intently.

"Can I sit down?" She planted herself on one of his bags so she didn't have to sit in the wet grass. "Listen here. This area is under the protection of the thieves' guild."

He grasped his weapon.

"I'm not with them, I'm not with them." She assured him. "But the adventurer's guild is. That's why there are no goblin extermination quests in this area."

He seemed confused. "Then... the lords..."

She stood up and turned away from him. "There is no barony of this land, and the count is so far way... To bother him with things like this-" She turned around. "It's just a buncha goblins guarding stolen gold or what-have-you. What this situation needs isn't an army, but a hero."

"Hero..." He pondered.

"That's right. Once the thieves' hoard has been confiscated, I'm sure the whole corruption will fall apart." She said confidently. And there won't be any questions about who ratted them out to the law. She thought to herself. "What say you? Don't you want to earn the prestige and admiration of a heroic title?"

He stood up straight and clenched his fist. "I want... to kill goblins!"

"That works too. Allow me to show you the time and the place."

For the first time in a while she felt in control. The man would wipe out the bandit camp and avenge her colleagues for her, or he would die trying and take away the guild's power to deny the danger of the forest. It didn't help her situation, but it would give her a quantum of solace to know that hateful one-eye was at least punished. It was a relief to know she had an ally in the thieves' guild to help her complete a plan like this.

"A visitor! How nice." The witch didn't show anger or discontent seeing the man show up at her orphanage. "Alpheba, how about you take the poor dear's coat, huh?"

"Yes ma'am." The apprentice complied.

"You've trained her well, Lacrima." Fyro reacted.

Alpheba looked slightly embarrassed. She was a witch in training, but the visitor painfully put the emphasis on her servile role in the household, trained to take the coat of visitors.

"I don't suppose you're here to adopt, are you dearie?" Lacrima posited.

"I'm simply here to check up on the dogs." He smiled, not able to commit sincerely to his role. "It's been a time since we left them with you, hasn't it?"

"You can speak freely in front of my apprentice." Lacrima stated as they made their way to her office. "She and all the children are under my thrall."

"In that case. Let's discuss the goldmine, shall we?" He said without missing a beat. "And your interference."

"Right this way, dearie. The old man is waiting in my study. , you stay here."

-

The path to Lacrima's study was past an atrium exposed to the open air. In it a smattering of children of different ages stood perfectly still, lined up like toy soldiers. When the thieves' leaders passed by they turned their heads to look at Fyro.

"Your orphans still give me the creeps, old woman." He commented.

"Just the creeps then? I had hoped you'd learn to fear my magic by now." She smugly answered as she opened the heavy wooden door to her room.

"Don't threaten me, witch, our mutual friend is keeping watch over this meeting. I think you know whose side he would pick."

Her study smelled of old oak wood and books. It was a stuffy old room with small windows at the top and a great deal of bookcases.

The third member of their little circle was already there. "Ah! Fyro, beautiful boy!" The garish old man stood up to greet him. "I haven't seen you since that nasty business with your in-law. Barbie. Or whatever her name was."

"Mac." He simply acknowledged him. Despite almost being middle-aged Fyro was by far the youngest person in the room, it made him feel youthful.

-

"Our fourth member is absent, as usual." Lacrima stated as she took a seat.

"He's got eyes everywhere." Fyro stayed standing.

"Are you such an eye, Fyro?" Mac countered. "It hasn't escaped anyone that you and our mysterious liege have a... special relationship. A mutual understanding among the nobility?"

"I only wish." Fyro smiled wryly. "It's because I'm the richest among all of you-" Mac was about to interrupted him but he talked over him. "It's true. Trade and fence is the guilds' biggest business, and the man likes to keep a finger on the pulse if nothing else. Determined to get his share. That's why..." he turned to Lacrima "...it would be unwise to muscle in on our territory. You know, upsetting the balance of things and all. I'm sure a witch would understand."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "Am I... missing something here?"

"I should think so." The witch claimed. "The other Harkness is growing in power. We're all eager to get a slice of the pie."

"The trading routes belong to ME." Fyro insisted. "Step into my territory and I consider it a violation of our first rule."

"The goblins snitched, didn't they?" Lacrima tapped the arm of her chair in frustration.

"I'm not stupid." The younger man scoffed. "I have lookouts documenting travelers for me. We know you visit the goblin nest. You're lucky it was only once."

She scoffed and quickly redirected the flow of conversation. "There won't be much left of your investment for any of us, Fyro, if you don't protect it against the law."

Fyro became defensive. "I trust you to keep the cliffs off the adventurer's quest board. Besides, they have Beatty's goblins, they can protect themselves."

"That's another thing," Mac complained, "have any of us ever met this monster tamer individual? I don't trust anyone I haven't shaken hands with."

"Some errant adventurer." Fyro dismissed it. "Lydia is in control. I know, I've seen it."

Lacrima gave a knowing chuckle at his ignorance. "And what about you, young man? Are you in control of your cousin?"

He puffed up his chest. "As long as I control registration, the bandits will do what I want."

"Watch yourself Harkness." Mac warned. "The thieves' guild can't survive the prying eyes of your former family. We can't risk a bandit fortress declaring its independence."

"The bandits are loyal to me." Fyro lied. "I am dedicated to keeping them out of the public eye."

Cyclophan abruptly stopped with his explanation of the devil altar. Fyro is lying. He said.

So he did eat the last fish head, Scratch responded, is that really something you need to occupy yourself with?

He was smoking a cigarette while sitting on the boarded up well, watching Harkness and their children try out magic.

The village was overrun by innumerably many goblins from the outposts, but the paved square in front of the cave was still free for combat training.

Not that Fyro. The other one. The thief. He was in a meeting with the other crimelords.

It must be about something important. You've never called him out before.

Listen to this. He wants to expose your town, to have it be attacked by adventurers and nobles. That's his measure for curbing your power.

But... that's excellent.

What?

Do you understand what's going on? If-

-

Ada loudly cussed. "Fuck! It's not fair!"

"Language!" Scratch yelled at her. "Fuck, it's not *fun*."

Up to three times Harkness had demonstrated how to emit fire from her mouth, but her children just couldn't do it.

After days of intensive study they could still only replicate basic magic spells, such as orbs of light, creating flames in the palm of their hands, or water condense.

"It's not about fun, Scratchy." The mother said strictly. "They need to be prepared to fight human warriors."

"Didn't you say hobgoblins are only capable of so much magic?" He put away his cigarette to hop down from the well and walk up to the class. "As a rule, a martial artists rely on their basic techniques 99 percent of the time."

"What are our basic techniques then?" Angus wanted to know.

"How about that grapple you're still brute-forcing? Or the formation defense. We always fight in large swarms, that's where our strength lies. Not these, sorry Lydia, garish light shows."

"Swarm tactics won't help us against a dedicated slayer." She claimed defensively. "This is not someone that leaves things up to chance. When we go out to meet him, he will isolate and confront us, at that point they need to be able to duel one-on-one."

"Go out to meet him? No. You're staying right here. What are you, suicidal?"

They were clashing again. The children stood by awkwardly as their parents raised their voices.

"We're the founding strength of these people, Scratch, we have a duty to protect them!"

"The point of being high status is that you don't have to *risk* your own life."

"Uhm..." Jasper raised his hand. "I'm not afraid or anything..."

"That just makes it worse." Scratch fumed.

Harkness sighed maternally. "I understand that you're worried for your children, Scratch. I am too. But if we do not uphold our honor, we have no right to rule."

Scratch grinded his teeth for bit, then smiled. "I see. So this is an honor thing. Let's uphold the agreement, right? You do something honorable, I get to do something blasphemous."

She hesitated for a moment. "Alright..."

"Good. Kids, let me show you how else you can use your magic.

Harkness snapped her finger at Stanford and gestured at him to follow them as Scratch dragged his children along to the deeper cave.

"Ugh, the smell..." Stanford covered his nose as they came to the end of the tunnel and into the wolves' den.

It did smell like wet dog. Luckily the wolves were smart enough to know how to do their business outside without being trained to.

They were friendly to him, he was known in the pack as a healer. But he shied away from them in the darkness of the grotto and didn't let any of them sniff at him.

"Have you two ever been this deep?" Scratch asked Harkness and Stanford.

"Not recently." She said.

"Not this deep, *this* deep." He uncovered the road to the elevator.

"Goddess' light..." Stanford stared into the inky blackness below.

"I'd love to see the forge you worked so hard on." Harkness said, while brushing Felix' hair, who happened to be standing next to her.

"We can make a detour, hop in." Scratch said as he ducked under the pulley system and onto the elevator.

The others had to crawl on all fours to get in.

"No, Linus, not on your own, go get your brothers." The patriarch told the goblin that was about to release the spool.

There was a counterweight to the system, but with the larger bodies on the platform that counterweight wouldn't be enough.

Eventually half a dozen goblins were gathered together to hold back the mechanism and slowly let down the plank.

Angus made a magical light, showing rows upon rows of thin wooden bars roll past them, the lattice that formed the elevator shaft.

"I hope the goblins can hold us." Stanford commented.

"I hope the ropes can hold us." Said Jasper, rubbing his eyes.

They passed the broken off stalactite that was being used as a counterweight and eventually reached the floor.

-

"Lydia, Stan, this is your first time on the factory floor, welcome." Scratch gestured towards the path.

It was a series of planks leading through the drip stone forest on various elevations, over which the goblins were able to carry heavy objects on stable footing.

Ada and her brother were already running ahead.

"Can you see the forge from here?" Scratch asked.

Harkness strained her eyes by the pale light of Angus' spell. "I think so, it looks like a castle."

The forge was the size of a building, looking even larger with the scaffolding surrounding it.

After a few minutes of walking they could fully appreciate its full size.

-

"Did the Eston witch come up with these plans?" Stanford asked.

The brick cube had holes on the lower sides to suck in air and a large opening on top to hurl materials in and let smoke out. The inside was a smooth surface, like a kettle, but with the spout at the bottom.

The bottom spout was supposed to pour the pure steel into a mold after the impurities had risen to the surface. That same waste product had to later be drained through the same tunnel.

There was a bed of ingot-shaped molds that could be moved under the static opening and a barrel of water at the front of the structure for the end product to cool in.

"I'm sure she got them from somewhere," Scratch answered, "no idea what it has to do with witchcraft though. Look over there."

On large reed mats to the side lay the intermediate materials; limestone and strange sandy gray plates.

Scratch left the path to pick up one of the gray chunks, he broke it easily with his hand. "I thought pig iron meant iron that was forged wrong, but it's for making steel." He exclaimed to the others.

Behind him various goblins were breaking up the scaffolding and wooden lattice that had been used to lay the bricks for the cube, though not with much enthusiasm or haste.

Out of the group George came forward, he had been closely observing the forge's progress since the start and wanted to be the one to explain it. "Yes! We make pig iron by melting iron and clay above and we're gonna mix it all together here in a really really hot fire!"

"It does sort of look like a witches' cauldron." Harkness observed.

"We can use the wood here to start the fire." George pulled on Scratch's upper arm. "Can we try it out? Can we do it today?"

"Can we start a fire that big?" Scratch asked the others suggestively.

"Yes! I can do that, I can start fires!" Ada jumped up proudly.

"Perhaps it'll be quicker if I-" Her mother started, but Scratch cleared his throat and Stanford nudged her.

-

It didn't take long for the goblins to arrange the re-purposed scaffolding into pyres underneath the stone bowl.

Charcoal and wood were stacked together into chaotic piles and short towers.

"If anybody is still playing hide-and-go-seek in there now is the time to get out! It's about to be set on fire." Scratch yelled into the fireplace. After a moment of contemplation he added, "Fire hurts!"

"Look at that." Stanford commented, "a way to use your magic."

The hobgoblins stood at different entrances to the space and lit the pyres with their simple utility magic.

At the last moment a goblin did come running out that had been hiding in there.

"Go tell your mother how you almost died!" Scratch yelled out after him.

Behind him the fire began to surge fast, as the air holes voraciously sucked in the air around them it created a strong draft and the heat increased.

They had to take their distance. The cube was now a shiny orange lantern in the darkness, lighting up the cave.

The materials were thrown in piece by piece by George and Yuki. "How about we help them out and speed things up?" Scratch told his children, but didn't do anything himself.

After half an our the open furnace was fill with melting stone, hot enough to melt your eyebrows off if you stood above it.

"If this works, and we create steel, we will be one of the most powerful forces in the county." Harkness mentioned.

"What the-? How? How in the world?" Scratch was slightly offended by the idea that something so simple could be so insignificant in a world of fire spells and frog transformations.

"Steel isn't like other metals," she explained while staring into the bright orange fire, "it doesn't come out of the ground pure and ready to hammer. Adventurers can't gather it in the wild, it requires a process like this to make. Other than super rare special materials like orichalcum steel is the best and most powerful material to outfit a warrior with, the nobility restrict its production so only they have access to it."

"So this Lacrima person is trying to gather military grade weaponry." Scratch pondered. "To sell? No. That's not her business... then what?"

"That's what I've been worrying about." Harkness responded.

-

After a while the first steel could be poured out into molds.

"Doesn't anybody have any blacksmithing gloves around here." Scratch asked.

"We should have put it on the list." Stanford mentioned. "For when we meet with Fyro tomorrow. It's probably to late to request them now."

"You can touch hot metal if your hands are wet." George demonstrated by submerging his hands in the water barrel and then moving the clay mold with them. There was a sizzling noise that made only Scratch flinch and he held up his palms that were unburned.

"Please do use gloves in the future. Or even winter mittens." Scratch pleaded.

Meanwhile Felix put his hand directly on the steel that was being poured in. There was a sudden burst of white steam flowing everywhere and he sucked in air through his teeth. "Ouch."

"Felix, baby, what are you doing?" Harkness wanted to know.

"I used the water magic to make my hand wet so I could touch it."

Stanford waved away the steam trying to see again. "I understand now. Lights, sparks and drips aren't for combat.

These spells show their power in their utility. That's what you wanted to show, wasn't it Scratch? Another way to use magic."

"What? No. I wanted to show them how to curse objects, we just got distracted."

"Let's see." Scratch planted himself behind the altar and began puffing on his cigarette.

The family sat packed in tightly in the small tent around the table, but he had faith that the table adequately hid the evil dungeon core from the sight of the more world weary humans.

"How do you usually teach magic to others?" He began, while putting a small bundle of handmade rope on top of the altar.

Stanford looked to his leader to see if she was going to say anything, then started himself. "A sense of magic is instinctive, a student will generally simply observe the magic of the teacher and imitate it."

"There are ways to guide yourself." Harkness added. "When we cast fire magic we usually invoke Rhada's name. The fire goddess embodies all fire, when I utter the phrase 'Rhada's breath' that resonates with the shape my spell has to take."

"Indeed." Stanford nodded. "It's the same with Benesant's healing. Though experienced healers can do without."

"Okay." Scratch took the cigarette out of his mouth, it seemed like he was trying to listen to something, then he spoke.

"I'm going to make a buncha noises, you kids try to follow suit, yeah?"

The hobgoblins made agree hmpfs and nods.

Scratch's chant as he laid his hands on the table didn't invoke the name of any god, nor did it sound like an recognizable phrase at all. It was a series of sinister snake-like sounds and gasps.

"Did that make any sense to you a magician?"

"Mage." Stanford corrected him.

"Whatever."

"That was... complicated." Harkness answered. "I couldn't keep track of it to be honest."

But the hobgoblins mulled it over in their hands, moving their hands while envisioning the shape.

Ada reached out to the rope, but Felix snatched it first. Without hesitation he perfectly reproduced the buzzing curse.

Harkness looked on in surprise, but Scratch showed smug approval. "We're a species that learns a language in a day," he whispered, "I'm thinking complicated incantations are perfect for goblins, if the big intense ones aren't."

When Felix was done the rope didn't seem any different, yet he was confident. "It attached." He said.

"Can you tell what it does?" Jasper asked him.

"I think so." The boy wound the rope around his own wrist. It seemed to move loosely up and down his forearm, but when he tugged on it it refused to glide off his body.

"A binding curse." Scratch explained. "An expert craftsman would spend his whole life trying to come up with a lock mechanism that can't be picked, and a little curse like this creates the perfect cuffs. I mean, especially with steel, forget about it!"

"But you can't take them off." Stanford said with a sour expression on his face.

"Yeah, that's kinda the point."

"You do need to eventually take off a pair of manacles." Harkness pointed out. "If only to reuse them."

Now Felix became slightly panicked as the prospect of being stuck with the rope for eternity dawned on him. He began tugging the thing violently.

"Hey, hey stop." Scratch commanded. "Stanford?"

"I won't be here every time." The healer stated.

"I won't make you do it every time, this is just a demonstration."

The man sighed and relented and took the hobgoblins wrist. "Judgment of Benesant." The rope fell off.

"Did you remove the whole curse?" Jasper wanted to know.

"Try it out." Ada goaded him.

"The spell merely suppresses the curse so it can be taken off." Stanford explained. "The church often services adventurers by removing cursed equipment that they had picked up somewhere. Those usually have additional effect."

"Well I'm relieved." Harkness stood up. "I was afraid that you would introduce more evil flesh bending or demonic magic to us. Comparatively, this is quite innocent."

"That is true." Stanford added. "A curse isn't by itself dark magic, it's part of the tradition of witchcraft."

Scratch raised the eyebrow of his working eye. "You really should draw me a map sometimes. Does that mean I am still owed one?"

Harkness' jaw clenched for a bit. "Fine."

The next day food stores had run out and the goblins wouldn't be able to eat until that afternoon when the bandits had come back from trading.

The bandits were already at the rendezvous point when Mabel arrived.

She used to have a more involved role in handling contraband, but with the arrival of her current husband Fyro and his recruitment of bandits many years ago she had refocused more on keeping a home and intimidating shopkeepers. She was now raising a family.

Yet today the task was delegated to her again. Fyro had to be present at a baptism, show respect to members of the guild.

It didn't matter, the bandits weren't dangerous and the job didn't consist of much more than the simple exchange of goods.

"And thirty crates of dried meet and tack..." she read out loud from the list while chewing. "...whattaya need all that tack for?"

"We feed it to our goblins." The bandit knight stated curtly.

Still chewing Mabel looked around at the bandit troupe, there were goblins helping with the carrying. Some were even sitting on warg wolves. "Oh yeah... Beatty's goblins. I remember."

She kept chewing for a while and watched the others move the boxes. Eventually she crouched down and tugged

Scratch on his sleeve. "Hey you... is Barbara, you know, still alive?"

"Is that concern or curiosity?" He remarked contemptuously.

She didn't answer.

Scratch put down his crate. "Did you hear about this goblin slaying individual everybody's talking about? Apparently he's a big deal."

"Scratchy, come on." Harkness recognized his playful mood and urged him to back down.

"No, I'm serious, did you hear about him? Do they tell you anything at all?"

"Uhm, I'm not a goon. Fyro and I are partners." Mabel responded insulted.

"Oh, that's right, you're the other half of the power couple. Doesn't that make you in-laws Lydia?" He cooed.

"Forget it." She exasperated and shook her head. "I should have know that a goblin can't-"

"Where exactly do your loyalties lie, sister?" Scratch hissed with an accusatory tone.

"W-what?"

"There's a psychopath out there killing my brothers and he didn't wander in here by accident."

"That's enough." Harkness pulled him away.

He wrestled loose from her arm. "This goblin slayer, he's the enemy, yeah? If he comes back raving about a bandit camp you ice him, yeah?"

"Of course!" Mabel responded.

"Of course you would. Anything else would be betraying the family, oh sorry, the guild. Wouldn't it? That's not what the power couple would do, is it?"

Mabel straightened herself and addressed Harkness directly as the leader. "Are you accusing us of something!?"

The thieves' guild members stopped in their tracks at the direction the conversation had gone.

"Not me." The goblin was the one to answer again. "Career criminals, we have a set of shared values. We see things from the same angle." He then unsubtly pointed up at the bandit leader behind his hand in a display of faux secrecy.

"But these noble-born, you know how it is, no respect for the code. Doesn't hurt their honor to sell out a thief." He said from the side of his mouth.

The career criminal looked up and down at the two, the implication was crystal clear to her. "But what would he-? He would never!" Her lackeys behind her looked at each other meaningfully.

Scratch shrugged at everybody returned to their business.

The bandits' wagons were only just loaded when a load noise came from the direction of the mine, a deep rumbling from the movement of great amounts of earth.

"The village!" Someone called out. "Someone is causing a cave-in!"

"Just when the guard is away." Harkness cussed. "Scratch, boys, take the dogs. Tell the kids to meet us at the gate.

We'll be right behind. Audace, Aimone, we're taking the wagon horses. Gildo and Huckabee, you stay here."

The orders were sort and clear and the outlaws obeyed immediately.

Before speeding away on the dog-turned-wolf Scratch turned around to Mabel and said "Barbara is alive and thriving, she's starting a family of her own."

The woman was left behind feeling both relieved and disgusted.

-

"Did we just get passed over?" Gildo asked Huckabee.

Finder's Keepers

Adventurers are entitled to keep loot found within monster overrun territory. This practice is universal in all four realms.

The equipment and riches of earlier fallen warriors can be freely claimed by members of the adventurers' guild. This way the materials continue to be put to good use and adventurers can find additional rewards in the wilderness.

Unfortunately this law has been abused in the past by criminals intentionally attacking rival adventurers to claim their possessions for themselves without knowledge of the guild. Once ousted as criminals these false adventurers are immediately stripped of their citizenry and labeled as bandits.

In the case of extraordinary or unique items such as commissioned by the high nobility the original owners or heirs have right of first refusal to buy it from the adventurer. The prices offered by these families are high and fair and the transaction is an honor to partake in, they should not be refused.