Merdon finished getting ready just as Quickclaw returned with a large stick wrapped in cloth and some kind of accelerant. She dipped it into their campfire, setting it ablaze, and then kicked dirt onto their fire to put it out. Fighting in small spaces was already an issue before the reduced light came into play. Things were only worse considering they would lose all benefits to stealth. With a fire in their hands, there was no way they wouldn't be seen approaching.

“The goblins will be used to the dark,” Quickclaw explained. “We will bring light, disorient them.”

The human suddenly grinned before slipping his helmet on. “Let's get this over with,” he told his companion.

It was difficult trying to keep his armor from clanging the whole way as they crossed the road and ducked into the other half of the forest. Quickclaw had no suggestions either, and the sound in the silence of the night was worse than a drunk bard at last call. He tried to walk slowly, but still keep up with the agile kobold. She carried the torch in one claw and a dagger in her other since the hume had to carry his sword and shield. At least the goblins would have trouble dealing with the flaming stick were she to swing it, and it gave Merdon a clear point to follow in the darkness.

The entrance to the cave was unguarded, and the two looked at each other over that. Likely, the goblins were inside and ready for them. Another problem sprung up when they went to walk inside though. It was too narrow of a passage. They could only fit in single file, and Merdon was going to have to halfway crouch the entire time. Quickclaw might have been able to squeeze around Merdon in a pinch, but not without dropping the torch. Losing their only source of light in the cave wasn't a big deal to Quickclaw, she could see in the dark, but Merdon couldn't, which would have led to a conflict of interests.

Before a discussion could even be had, Merdon stepped in front, shield up, and started marching forward at a steady pace. Quickclaw frowned. She had the light, she was faster, it would be easier for her to take the lead. That wasn't what was on the knight's mind. His only thought was that in a tight space he had the armor to hold back the goblins. He even put away his sword and got ready to use his fists and shield for damage instead, as his sword would have only smashed into the walls.

Slowly they crept through the cave, which seemed to not be so stable, as evidenced by many side passages caved in. Merdon hoped the chest wasn't behind one of those, otherwise, their short contract would turn into a mining expedition instead. Unless it was done intentionally. Perhaps to trap them, perhaps they weren't as solid of cave-ins as they looked. He gestured to Quickclaw to keep her eyes peeled behind them, to which she nodded quietly back. His armor was making enough noise, they didn't need to add their voices to it, to let the goblins know how many of them were coming, and especially if the cave-ins were genuine.

The single tunnel stretched on and on, or it felt like it did to Merdon. He wasn't a fan of being underground, and he didn't like the close-quarters nature of the fight they were sure to encounter in here. They had a job to do though. Their client wasn't interested in money or jewels, but the contracts in the chest that would get him his next shipment. A man's livelihood was on the line. It was hard work that wouldn't make them champions or heroes, but it came with gratitude most others didn't get. Besides, all the praise in the world didn't make traveling through potentially unstable caves to fight monsters any more bearable. All it did was guarantee another dangerous job after.

Ahead of them came a sudden noise, which made Merdon stop dead in his tracks. He bent low, covering most of his face with his shield and letting the torchlight shine forward from behind him. The tunnel curved to the right. Agonizingly slow, he crept forward, shield at the ready. As they made to round the corner, a club swung and clashed into his shield. Merdon winced and pushed forward quickly. Four goblins stood in surprise, thinking they'd been quiet enough. The knight bashed the first one with his shield, pushing it back into its comrades. They were small enough, however, that the one behind it easily crawled over and lunged at the human. It met a gauntlet covered fist where it probably expected him to try his sword.

Quickclaw rolled the torch under Merdon, causing the remaining two goblins that were still behind the turn to wince and cover their eyes. As they were tearing up from the bright light, she ducked under his arm and went for the kill. True to her name, her claws, clutching daggers, made quick work of the goblins, but a sound behind her made her turn.

At least one of the tunnels hadn't been caved in, not really. Six more goblins came running up behind them accompanied by the sound of tumbling rocks. Merdon barely managed to turn himself around to face them, and rather than back up, he snatched the torch in his hand, waving it to blind them, and then rushed forward. What ones he couldn't knock out quickly he killed with hard bashes, and one neck snap. With good fortune, Quickclaw had picked a very sturdy branch, or perhaps the club of one of the goblins they had killed back at their camp, to make the torch. In either event, it was sturdy, and good for smacking the little beasts. It was a fight that was over in short order and he turned back to the kobold.

“Are you all right?” he asked her, holding up the torch to see her better.

The kobold huffed. “Quickclaw is fine. Such stupid creatures could not hope to hit her.”

Merdon nodded and squeezed past her, pressing on into the tunnel. At the end of it, they found a circular chamber with the strongbox against the wall. He sighed at the sight, glad he didn't have to carry it. It was made of metal with a thick padlock, not something he could kick open as Quickclaw's cage had been. The knight stepped aside and gestured for his companion to look. She took the torch with her, leaving him in relative darkness while she worked. A few minutes later there was a loud click and the torchlight came back.

“Got it,” Quickclaw practically cooed, passing Merdon the papers.

He paused and looked back at her though. “What else did you get?”

She opened her big, golden eyes wide. “Quickclaw would never,” she said incredulously.

Merdon was quiet for a moment, then he took the torch and started walking out of the cave. “Just don't let the guild know,” he said back to her.

Quickclaw frowned, then grumbled, pulling a pouch out of her tunic and tossing it on the ground. It was just a bag of silver, but somehow the hume had guilted her out of it. That sour feeling came up in her stomach again, although it was weaker this time. He was a bad moral influence on her and the sooner they could part ways the better.

They exited the cave without too much trouble, Merdon breathing easier once he was outside and not in danger of getting crushed by a cave-in. A touch out of character to his usual facade, he took a deep breath once they were outside and looked at the sky for a moment. He walked forward and made his way back towards their camp after that, thinking about what came next. A couple more hours of sleep before dawn, then a long trek back to town. Exhaustion would be setting in around then, but the job would be done in just two days. That might have been a record.

“Do you always do these things so close to home?” Quickclaw asked him from the side.

Before he could tell her that he did, a pair of arrows whipped by. One went right over Quickclaw's head, her reaction being to scamper away into the forest. Merdon took it in the thigh, between a gap in his armor. He groaned, tossed his torch, and put up his shield in seconds. A second arrow slammed into it and was followed by some swearing. The knight thanked the goddess he was young and fast enough to do that in time.

“You said the short one was carrying the torch,” a man said, standing just outside the torchlight.

“And where did it go anyway?” a second voice asked.

“Fuck you,” Merdon shouted, crouched and hiding his vital organs behind his shield. Another arrow broke on it in response.

“Just give us those papers and we'll let you live,” a third voice, much more commanding than the other two, demanded.

“If you know who I am, you know I won't do that,” Merdon replied. He couldn't risk sticking his head over the shield to see them, but he needed to know when they were close enough to strike. “You'll have to come over here and kill me.”

A third arrow. “We don't need to go anywhere, we can do this from here.”

“No you can't,” Merdon countered. “My shield is sturdier than your arrows, and you can't see me very well with that fire in front of you. Plus, you don't know where my kobold went or why.” Could she be sneaking up on them? Getting help? Who knew. Not anyone there; not even Merdon in fact. It was a risky bluff.

“You two cover me,” the leader told his archers, followed by the sound of a blade being drawn.

Merdon looked down, under his shield, and saw a shadow step in front of the torch. That would be his mark. When the shadow got too close he'd draw his own sword and lunge. If the gods smiled upon him, he'd reach the leader and use him as a living shield to keep any more arrows from splitting him. Worst case scenario, his armor would have to get a few dents. Hopefully.

When the man was nearing striking range a commotion rose behind him. The thief turned back towards his comrades as they shouted. One shout turned into a muffled gurgle. Merdon dropped his shield and looked. Squinting into the darkness he saw what had to be Quickclaw, dagger dug into one man's throat. She leaped to the other man, clearing the large distance between them, twisting in the air to avoid an arrow, and landed on him using her tail to hold on. Another dagger, another kill. Merdon, wincing with pain, charged forward and, before the leader could turn completely around to face him, ran him right through with his sword. It was a completely unnecessary action, the amount of effort it took to pull a sword that had been shoved completely through someone left a knight open to being attacked during a battle, but the fight was over. Definitely this time.

He hefted the man off his sword, breaking a few bones in the thief's body in the process to free his weapon, and then looked over towards Quickclaw. The kobold was looting the bodies, taking their bows and arrows, along with any other items of value they might have had. Even with their lives in danger moments ago she was thinking about wealth. When she came over to loot the leader, she looked at Merdon.

“What? Can we not take from our would-be assassins?” she asked him hotly.

Merdon shook his head and then fell backward. “Loot them. I have no love for brigands like this.” Normally he might but, with an arrow in his leg, he had more pressing matters than the kobold's desire for money.

That was when Quickclaw saw the arrow. “You... were wounded?” she asked, shocked. Quickclaw hadn't stuck around to see, she hadn't heard it enter his leg.

“It's fine,” Merdon insisted. “I just … need to get my pack. Then I can pull this out, wrap it up. It'll last until we can get back to Bereth and find a healer.”

Quickclaw nodded and darted off, leaving the leader's body mostly untouched, for the moment. She returned quickly with Merdon's stuff and started looking for his supplies. In the meantime, the knight removed his steel boots and greaves. The arrow had gone through a slot, narrowly avoiding his kneecap. That would have been a much worse injury. Shattered bone didn't heal so well and it was much harder to travel on. Not that his current injury was much better, but at least he would be able to walk.

He pulled the arrow out, slowly. Blood squirted and gushed out quite heavily, but the knight bit down and dealt with it. Once it was out, he reached towards Quickclaw, who was holding a roll of clean cloth. Merdon grabbed that and pressed it hard against his wound. The kobold then took some more cloth and wrapped it, tying it tight around the bleeding hole. She looked up at Merdon with wide eyes. He couldn't help but notice how golden they were this close, even in the dark night.

“Will the hu-... will you be okay?” she asked quietly.

Merdon chuckled. “I've taken my share of arrows. Bring the torch,” he told her. A moment later there was decent light and the human looked at the arrow. “The angle was bad,” he told her, pointing to the amount of blood on the arrow. “It was shallow. Too much deeper and I would have had to push it through my leg instead.”

Quickclaw made a face at that. “Quickclaw could not imagine the difficulty.”

“It's quite painful,” he admitted. “But, this is fortunate. Only one wound, the damage is minimal, the entry shallow. I should rest for now.” Check on the wound, make sure the bleeding slowed down. Worst case, he might need to use that torch to cauterize it closed. Not something many on the road liked to do, but it beat the alternative of being stranded or dying.

Quickclaw simply nodded and sprinted back to their camp. She gathered more firewood and got that going while Merdon hobbled over and sat against a tree. Over the next few minutes, he gave her specific instructions. A log to elevate his foot, primarily, and to keep an eye on the color of his face. Paling too much could mean significant blood loss, and that was a very dire sign. The kobold nodded and waited. They had a few hours more until dawn. Hours that Merdon spent with his eyes closed and breathing carefully. Keeping calm would slow the blood flow. Eventually, he dozed off despite the pain and discomfort of the forest floor.

When the sun came up, Quickclaw looked him over. He still seemed the usual pink hume that he always was, he was breathing easy. She checked his wound. The bleeding had slowed. With a grin, she moved over and dug into his pack again. Changing the cloth would be good, it would look less severe that way and give them a good indication if the wound reopened. Merdon stirred when she cinched the wrap closed again, mostly flinching as he opened his eyes.

“Daylight?” he muttered.

“Yes, it is time we left,” Quickclaw said. She handed Merdon her pack and his armor and hefted his pack onto her back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sitting up properly and looking at her struggling to stand properly with the extra weight.

“Your wound will slow you, your pack will slow me, we will be equal in speed,” she told him frankly.

Merdon laughed at the sight. “No, well maybe, but I mean, you repaid your debt.” He had saved her from a life of slavery, she had saved his life. A life for a life, an even trade.

The kobold shook her head though, after gaining her balance. “Your life is in danger until your wound is healed,” she insisted. “Quickclaw's debt is repaid when you are safely in the hands of a healer.”

The knight shook his head, knowing there was no point in arguing with her at this point. He stood himself up, put her pack over his shoulder, and tested his leg. It was tender, but it was usable. They might be a few hours behind but it wouldn't take more than the whole day to reach Bereth again. Nothing too terrible like their first two nights of travel together. The tension between them and their possible pursuers. That nervousness of being with another species. All of that seemed to have dissipated in the intervening time. Completing this contract together was... okay. Their skills complemented each other, they seemed to get along off the job, there were worse teams.

But that was coming to an end. Merdon had to focus on that. When they got back to town she would leave, probably come back here to finish taking things from that chest, and then slip out into the wilds never to be seen by him again. That was good, was what he kept telling himself as they walked back to Bereth. He would refocus on his work, go back to taking solo contracts, shorter jobs with less wandering again, not that he hated this one. And working with someone else wasn't so bad. A human though, he would find a partner of his own species to work with. Someone that wouldn't evoke weird thoughts when he looked at them. At least, they wouldn't be weird because they wouldn't be a kobold.

Quickclaw had been right about her keeping pace with Merdon's wound by carrying his pack, but she greatly underestimated how exhausted she was when they arrived in town. It was after sundown, and she was breathing hard carrying his stuff. More oddities of her biology came to light as she had a light sheen of sweat from the exertion. The knight didn't let that continue much longer, taking his pack off of her and giving the kobold her own bag back. Although he had more questions than ever after seeing her soaked in sweat. Kobolds, he decided, were very weird creatures, though certainly not the stupid monsters most Avantians made them out to be. Unless the thief among them was an exception.

He gestured towards the church in town, where the healers would be, and they made their way there. The market had just recently closed and they had to wander through crowds of folks heading home or to the taverns and inns. It made Merdon wince every time he had to step to the side, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. They were in the home stretch after all. A little pain, when they were only yards away from him being fixed, was like complaining about bread when you're starving. Besides that, just the sight of the massive church in Bereth filled him with a sense of security. Everything would be all right soon. His wound, Quickclaw's departure, everything would be normal.

The church was open, as it always was, and Merdon was hurried inside to a room while a priest prepared a healing chant. Quickclaw was forced to wait outside, which gave her time to think alone. She had her pack, the human was in the care of a cleric, she had paid back her debt. Saved his life as he had saved hers. There wasn't a sour feeling this time though as she thought about what he'd done. Rather, a strange warmth filled her. Merdon had taken an arrow that was meant for her. Sure, it was the fault of some stupid archer hume with bad information, but he could have used her as a distraction and ran, he could have given up those papers and avoided the fight. Even other kobolds hadn't stood their ground like that for her sake. She felt like she owed him yet again.