Quickclaw seemed peppier the next morning, in Merdon's opinion. The kobold girl had dressed again and at his side as they walked down the street towards the guild. He could have sworn there was a smile on her face. Perhaps it was just the bathing. Maybe even female kobolds enjoyed the clean sensation and lack of smell. Not that Merdon didn't, he was just used to being without it in his daily life. Years of traveling and not access to bathing water, living out of a canteen and on rations, tended to make a person forget about luxuries like baths. Regardless, it put him in a good mood to see an expression on her muzzle other than a contemptuous smirk or a defiant scowl.

Of course, he couldn't forget about the night before, no matter how hard he tried. At best he could manage to focus on their current objective. Getting a new contract, completing the quest, and getting paid. Until she fulfilled that debt to him they were business partners. No more, no less, pure business.

“The hume seems distracted,” Quickclaw commented, looking at Merdon's uncovered face.

“I was just thinking about how you seem to be in a good mood,” he replied, looking ahead to try and hide his face.

The kobold chuckled, a terribly melodic and tempting noise. “Yes, Quickclaw is pleased with the bed last night, and the look on the lycan's face when she bested his feeble insult.”

Merdon couldn't help but smirk at that too. “I didn't think someone of your size could drink so much,” he admitted.

“Kobolds are surprising creatures,” Quickclaw informed him. “Keep an open mind and Quickclaw will show you more.”

The knight's face hardened at that. He'd seen plenty, more than enough actually. “Let's just concentrate on whatever the guild gives me, all right?” he asked, avoiding that line of thought.

Quickclaw waved her hand, brushing the comment aside, “Yes, yes. Quickclaw will help the hume with his work.” And hope that an opportunity to pay him back in full arose.

Merdon sighed and kept walking. It was very early in the morning; the city was still mostly asleep. The sun, barely peaked over the horizon, bathed everything in strange hues. Occasionally a mother would lean out of a window, opening the house to start cleaning, and the odd merchant or adventurer would come shambling out of a door to start business for the day. Otherwise, the streets were silent and empty, the air calm. Quite the turnaround from the loud and bustling midday they'd wandered through before. Peaceful was how Quickclaw felt she would describe it. Something that kobold villages never were with the constant fear they had of human slavers.

With the reduced foot traffic, they arrived at the guild in short order and without incident. Cath was sitting at the front desk, as she usually was, and yawned as they walked in. Papers on her desk rustled about as she looked through the contracts. There was one she felt the two were perfect for, and she sat it atop the counter for Merdon to view.

“A lockbox in a cave?” Merdon asked, looking at Cath. “I can't carry that.”

“You don't need to,” the woman replied smugly. “The merchant just wants what's inside. His caravan got hit by a group of goblins. He and his men survived, but lost the merchandise.”

Merdon nodded. “Someone clear the goblins out already?”

“No, but you can cover your little kobold while she picks the lock,” Cath told him with a smile.

“What makes you think she can pick locks?” the knight asked her with a frail smile. He hoped she would drop it.

“She's a thief, Merdon.” Cath's face was serious. “Don't tell me you didn't realize that.”

Merdon sat the contract down and pushed himself back from the counter, leaning almost the same way a child would to avoid their parent's gaze. However, he was doing it to look down at Quickclaw. The kobold was smirking, a very 'I told you so' kind of feeling to her look. It bothered him, sent a chill down his spine while standing in a warm room in the middle of Spring. Like everyone was a step ahead of him.

“Yes, Quickclaw is a thief,” the kobold said, reaching up and snatching the paper that was just out of her sight. She read the contract and shrugged. “Easy.”

Cath had to stand and lean over the counter to see the kobold. “Great, sign at the bottom and when you and Merdon come back you'll get your pay,” she explained while extending an inkwell and quill towards the thief.

Quickclaw glanced at it, then dipped her front claw into the ink before signing. Merdon had to use the quill instead, naturally. He wondered though if all kobolds were taught how to write with their fingers, or claws as they were. It certainly seemed mildly useful. And how sharp were they? She hadn't cut the contract, but that could be related to how hard she pressed down. At least as tough as the small horns on the top of her head, but how sharp were they? An endless loop to ponder over a simple task.

The kobold smirked and slapped the back of Merdon's armored leg with her tail again. “Quickclaw knows she is attractive, hume, but save such thoughts for later,” she teased him. It was clear she was in a good mood. “This cave is a day's walk from here with your armor slowing us down.”

He coughed and nodded, while Cath laughed at his embarrassment. Thankfully, Merdon had his helmet within reach and could put it on without drawing too much attention to the fact it was to hide his reddening face. Steel was good for protecting more than flesh and bone. Once in a while, it helped protect his dignity too. With the cool Spring morning, he also didn't need to remove it right away as he would need to later in the day. Although, this allowed him to keep glancing at Quickclaw with impunity. She could no longer see his eyes and this came to his attention as they proceeded out of the city's East gate. He would need an iron will to continue this partnership, or perhaps an exorcism for whatever evil was making him think about a kobold in such a way.

Their journey to the cave was of largely no consequence, apart from Quickclaw expressing her distaste for bread and cheese as rations. Merdon never knew kobolds were such carnivores. Otherwise, it was a simple day's walk along a well-cared highway. The king had such roadways installed, and maintained, as anything built with stone needed, to ensure faster travel between large towns and cities of the kingdom. Merchants and wagons traveled much quicker across paved roadways, and any traveler worth their salt could see an ambush due to tampering. Unlike dirt roads like those heading to Sedra, where they were so worn down it was like walking through a ditch and potholes or branches could be easily concealed to disable horses. It was the kind of traveling that Merdon vastly preferred to do.

When asked, along the way, what had happened for this lockbox to go missing, as she had only scanned the summary, Merdon told the kobold the details. The caravan had been ambushed on a stretch of the highway that crossed through a smaller forest, roughly ten leagues wide. Most forests had denser concentrations of trees making it harder to get through. In that part of Avant, the trees were taller and thus grew further apart, at least that was what Merdon thought. As luck would have it, the merchant had marked a map with the rough location of the cave after he arrived at Bereth. A path that split off the main road and led into the forest, likely worn down by monsters such as the goblins that currently inhabited the caves.

It was relatively easy to spot the place even through the dimming light of the day when they arrived, and the thick canopy overhead. All the trees around them were less of an issue than the foliage on the ground; therefore, it would be impossible not to make noise. That was before considering Merdon's armor. Quickclaw would have no problems sneaking in but would face an unknown number of opponents once inside. A risky gamble either way. Something they would have to talk about before acting on.

Near dark, the two had a choice to make. Rest until morning, when their strength would recover from the trip, and attack the cave at dawn while risking being ambushed themselves at night; or they could attack now with minimal light to guide them out of the cave and fatigue looming over them, ready to crash atop them like a wave at any moment. Merdon argued for resting, saying they could keep themselves relatively safe and that it would be better to move when they were both at full strength and there weren't traps waiting in the dark.

Quickclaw disagreed, at first. She proposed the goblins would set up for them in the caves rather than outside, and time of day didn't matter inside the cave. Merdon was impressed with her reasoning but eventually reminded her that they were both tired from the long walk and that fatigue would get them killed faster than any planning a goblin could come up with.

Merdon won the argument and they set up camp opposite the forest where the cave was located. This, in his opinion, would give them the best chance to not be attacked. They could see any goblins coming across the road, as it cut straight through the forest, and with some placements, they could keep themselves hidden from any that might be out on the other side watching. If goblins were smart enough to have a watch. Which Quickclaw assured him they were. A disturbing thought, that all of these “lesser creatures” or monsters that most humans thought of were far more intelligent than they were given credit for. It was almost laudable, to him, that humans kept the rougher ones down if that were the case.

Quickclaw, once again, volunteered for watch and climbed a tree. Merdon's earlier question about her claws was answered as she dug them into the bark to scale it. He also found himself staring at her tail swaying back and forth as she climbed up. He then found himself turning his back to her tree and being thankful that no one could see him blush in the darkness away from their half-buried campfire. The less he thought about Quickclaw's tail the better.

In the darkest part of the night, a rock fell from the sky and made harsh contact with Merdon's head. The man bolted upright and looked around. He didn't see anything, but he did hear something. Rustling in the bushes around him. Three, maybe four, distinct origins. His sword was at his side, as was his shield, but there was no time to put his armor on. They just had to hope whatever was surrounding them wasn't too tough. Or, maybe it was just he that had to worry. A glance around the campsite didn't show a kobold, although it was too dark for him to see up into the trees. Perhaps Quickclaw was there. It would explain the pebble that knocked him into consciousness.

Sword and shield at the ready, Merdon banged the two together and shouted, “I can hear you out there! Step into the light, unless you want to die.”

The rustling stopped abruptly. If they were humans, thieves in their own right, he would be willing to let them go, if they ran away. Goblins? They wouldn't be deterred by such a threat. Merdon was just hoping to keep them from circling around to his backside. Either way, they would know he could hear them moving, their plans had been foiled. Two options remained; attacking from where they were or running.

A high pitched scream from his right answered the question promptly, as it was followed by a green creature, perhaps two feet tall, smaller than a halfling or kobold even, charging out of the brush with a club. It swung viciously, and Merdon easily parried the strike with his shield. The goblin went staggering backward, but not far enough to escape the reach of the human's longsword. Just the first few inches of his blade, that was all that was needed, the rest of the steel was for protection and reach. Once those few inches passed through the goblin's thin leather and into its chest it stiffened up and dropped over with a death rattle. Right in the heart.

Merdon took a step back and reaffirmed his stance. One down, three or more to go. A second goblin came out to meet that quota, however, a third came from behind Merdon. Basic tactics, flank the shield to make it less reliable. They didn't know about the knight's back up though. Quickclaw fell out of the tree, just like she had in the Sedran forests, but this time she landed straight on the goblin behind Merdon. The one in front looked startled, open to attack, and Merdon took that opportunity. His blade lashed out, aiming for the goblin's neck. He missed a clean decapitation, but still slashed the thing's throat. It clutched on for dear life and tried to flee back into the woods. Sadly, it crashed into a tree in its panic and bled to death soon after.

Quickclaw had done much the same as Merdon had to the one she landed on, stabbing it in the heart with her daggers. It lay on the ground dead and she took place behind the human, watching his back. “Quickclaw said this was a bad idea,” she chastised him mid-combat.

Merdon responded with a simple grunt. He was focusing on the task at hand. Ears perked and listening for more rustling. Three goblins could mean four or five or six, there was no telling. Maybe once they were done here it would be better to storm the cave. The goblins would be expecting these scouts to come back, not an enemy. At the very least it would keep them from preparing for an assault when these ones didn't return. It was the best plan he could come up with on the fly.

A sound to his left made Merdon twist and then swing with his sword. It caught in the club of a goblin. Quickclaw stepped back, surprised by the sudden attack. She hadn't seen that one and felt very miserable for missing him. Merdon though was now aware that his blade was caught in the goblin's weapon, as was the goblin. The green foe smirked and twisted, pulling Merdon's arm away while the beast pulled out a bone dagger. Fortunately, the human had a shield, and he wasn't stupid. Before the goblin could do anything with his dagger his face met a ten-pound shield. Dazed, the creature dropped his club, which proved fatal. It took no time at all for Merdon to free his sword from the club with his foot, and then run the goblin through.

Once again, the night was quiet and still. Merdon wiped off his blade and stood in wait, listening, his insides coiled tight, like a snake ready to strike. An exhausting state to stay in for too long, and so he relaxed after several minutes. He sheathed his sword and grabbed his armor. With all possible haste, he began putting it on. Quickclaw looked at him curiously.

“Now we strike?” she asked with disbelief. She'd been up longer than he had after all.

“If we wait, they'll be ready. We've already lost the element of surprise,” he reasoned as he slowly put on his leggings. “If we're lucky, they won't be expecting us. If we're not, at least we attacked before they prepared anymore.”

The kobold sighed. “Quickclaw will stash our packs and make a torch.”