How many hours had it been? How many days? Without the sun to track, it was an impossible task to know just how much time had truly passed since she ended up in this mess. One mistake too many, one step too far. An adventure taken without proper preparations, with a party of individuals lacking in the necessary skills to make up for their shortcomings. Their planning fell short, their courage and bravery unable to change the balance in numbers. Zealotry, though a capable motivator, couldn’t kill Goblins.

Now four were dead and two were stolen away, with her among the two. The other one was lying in a pool of spittle, blood, and excrement. Her corpse kicked to the side and left to rot after the Goblins had finished having their way with her. That young girl, a poor Human woman who did not have luck on her side. This was her first adventure, her first quest, and she had such high hopes for her future. All adventurers did. If only She had been able to keep her from being so foolish, then maybe they might be the ones singing and drinking right now.

With her dead, that left only a handful of others. Women who had all suffered the same fate. All remnants of their own failed adventures and a few unfortunate girls who had been kidnapped from their very homes or from passing caravans. There was one male as well, but he had long been broken and tossed aside. She found it odd, Goblins letting a man become a captive, but they had found plenty of use for him. They’d watched him show up, watched the Goblins use him for sport before breaking him. The Shamans had the final pass at him. They used him as target practice for their magic, testing their spells and the effects on a living target.

Retching, she coughed, spitting up a glob of mucus that had backed up in her throat. She was sick. Her forehead burned and cold chills ran down her body. The sickness had struck her two days ago and she’d only realized it when the Goblins chose to shove her aside. A detail she hadn’t missed--the detection of sickness before it even hit. They didn’t kill her but their pillaging of her womanhood had ceased, at least for now. For some reason, it seemed that their recognition of her illness made her less tasty to them. The occasional desperate and smaller Goblin still made its way to her, but the majority weren’t dumb enough to contract an incurable sickness. They had no medicine and no clerics in their midst. Even a simple cold might kill one before infecting the rest of them. It made her wonder why they kept her alive.

Though, that might be because of the quality of Goblin children she could produce. Due to her racial background, the Goblins she popped out were more rugged and stronger than the normal ones Elves and Humans produced.

Shit… Tricky bastards. This nest was learning, and fast. The stories of this place being infested turned out to be true, and she realized that the three leading Goblins had plenty of experience with the world. It had allowed the nest to prosper, spread, and build. The number of stolen women here was enough evidence of that. At least a dozen living women were collected here, herself being one of them. The Goblins used them well but a pair of Goblins had set up some kind of schedule for the nest. A breeding cycle, she’d learned, and the women were forced to be passed around in accordance with it. After each breeding and birth cycle, a woman was given two days where the Goblins did not touch her. It was smart. Doing so allowed the women to birth stronger Goblin runts. They could also produce more per litter, allowing the numbers to blossom.

Though disgusted by it all, she found such knowledge fascinating. The goblins had figured this system out at some point and were putting it into almost scary effect. Their numbers had grown to frightening numbers ever since, making it nigh impossible to plan an escape. No woman here could survive a fight against that horde. Even a casual party would have difficulty facing it. She did not know their exact numbers but from the sheer estimation of Goblin children being produced, it was not a small number by any means. What would it take to handle them all? A raid? A contingent of actual soldiers? Most of all, who would tell them? Who would warn the Guild, the local Lord? Who would notify the other Adventurers of the imminent danger growing right under their noses?

With no survivors and no way to get out, sending that message of warning was impossible. Time and time again, the Goblins had got the better of the incoming parties and let none live. No survivors. No witnesses. The Guild should have taken that as an alert by itself, yet there had been no change to the quest. Even when she and her party accepted it, the information was the same and hadn’t changed since its original posting. The excuse? The Adventurers sent prior had failed and chose to go elsewhere rather than report their inability to complete the quest.

Disgusting. The Guild had turned a blind eye to the steady loss of adventurers, using the convenient excuse as a way to keep the reward and rank of the quest low. Doing so kept the attention away from them, allowing the Guild to avoid the scrutiny of the Lord. Since there were no reports from survivors, there were no records of anyone even going. All it would take was a little fudging and the Guild could cover up the mess being made. But, things had slowly ballooned out of hand and now this nest was an actual problem. If the Guild changed things now, it would only be problematic for them. A diplomatic problem at this point that might lead to disciplinary action against the management.

To cull this horde, it would cost a lot of money, a lot of resources, and a lot of time. And, it would likely cost several lives.

…Which is what made the sound of approaching footsteps hard to believe. Hearing them, she had thought herself mad and grimaced. She thought the sound was a sign of her sanity’s end. This moment, she believed it to be the last time she would truly ever know herself. What else could she chalk it up to be? There was simply no way anyone could be down here, striding through that tunnel so casually with such a numerically dangerous enemy. And thinking that, she believed those boots to instead belong to something more menacing. Something more dangerous than a typical Goblin.

That fear made long dry tears fall from the corners of her eyes. It made her lips tremble, her heart quiver, and her muscles slacken with defeat. What would defile her next? The Goblins had bested her in every way and no amount of trying to fight against them would save her now. She was truly, in heart and body, nothing more than a tool to be used by their foul hands. And this new arrival was likely even more foul and disgusting than they.

Then He appeared. A stolen, bloody dagger in one hand. Magic flame bristling in the fingers of the other. With eyes of ice and a face so stoic it could be carved from stone. Tattered clothes that showed evidence of fighting, the fabric torn and cut in places that should have been fatal. He carried weapons of strange origin on his waist but they clearly resembled elven and dwarf in making. A man. A human man.

A man that was alone.

He killed the goblin guards with hardly a breath, dispatching their child-like bodies as if they were pebbles to be kicked aside. He did it with such violence, such a lack of elegance, that it made her very stomach clench. She almost felt bad for those creatures, those monsters. Their skulls were crushed. Their eyes melted and evaporated from the extreme heat from his magic. Their throats were cut open, black blood splattering on the walls. One was dismembered, his body chopped apart in a show of force. The last was killed with a stomp to the chest. A powerful step that crushed its ribs and the organs contained within.

With his arrival came an eerie silence and a sudden change in the very air of the room.

Though He was brutal and lacking remorse for the Goblins, He addressed the women with a much kinder disposition. Though He did not provide much warmth with his words, He provided instead a promise of finality. The Goblins were dead. The nest had been bested. They were safe. They would be free. And from the way He stood over the dead corpses of likely their children, the women knew He was not lying. They had just witnessed evidence that could not be denied or ignored. This was no dream, no mirage. Their hell was over.

He was no savior. No knight in shining armor. No trained soldier or a hero from some far off land sent to rescue them. He was just an adventurer who had risked his life for theirs. A man who had braved the cold and dreary, answering a meager request on a simple board that was pinned amongst dozens. A quiet plea for help buried in the screams of hundreds of others. From what she could see, He came alone. With nothing more than his own weapons and armor, if you could call it armor at this point. He’d faced down the Goblin horde and wiped them out. It was unbelievable. This man and his tale. It made her think she was still dreaming until He came and unlatched her from the wall.

Free from her shackles, and without the support of their chains, she’d collapsed into his arms. An accident, promise. She had never meant to be a burden any more than she already was by still breathing. Yet, the warmth of his body, the gentleness of those calloused hands, and the firmness of his voice. “Are you hurt?”

How unsightly of her.

She only nodded then, her lips pressing together as He lowered her to the chilling floor. She felt the rush of mana from his palms, the heat of his touch over her battered and defiled body. Those dark, deep eyes of his did not look at her with any hint of disgust. He stared at her, ignoring the marks and the evidence of goblin atrocity as He brought life back into her stinging limbs. Beneath his attention, her sickness faded. Her legs filled with energy and strength. Her body returned to life, breathing in the air of the potential to see tomorrow once more. She did not smile, but she did thank him before He left her for the next victim. Oh, how she hated that word. Victim. A title she wouldn’t be able to shake now for the rest of her life. No matter how she lived from here on, it would forever stain her past.

When they were all cared for and the women had all gathered their strength to leave, He performed one final task. A task they had all feared they would never see. One that marked the true end of this deplorable void. He kicked aside the small door leading to the nursery and threw within it a purifying flame. A breath of hot blaze that was equal in strength to a dragon’s roar. They all watched without emotion as He ended those lives, not even flinching as He performed the vicious action. They knew not to expect any less of him, especially after that grand entrance of his. As the Goblin children screamed, He sealed them and the fate of the horde away

He then turned away from that burning nursery, walking boldly to the tunnel leading away from their cage. “Let’s go.” He had said, his voice coaxing them all into step behind him.

That stride of his. Certain and broad, leading them into the terrifying darkness of the nest, was their guiding light. He exuded an aura of power and experience, one that betrayed the youth in his face. This Adventurer, this man with caramel skin, brown eyes, and a growing lock of tied black hair, had seen more tides and battles than even she could fathom. The lack of light in his eyes told her enough. She knew those eyes. She’d seen many aged warriors with a similar stare. It could pierce right through you. To see it on a boy so young made her wonder just what kind of life he’d lived up until now.

Yet he walked without fear. No hesitation and no question of where he was going. As if saying ‘onward to the next’ with every step he took. It was not fearlessness but commitment to his role. This was not his first time in such a place like this, and from how stalwart his stride was, He knew it would not be his last. She almost felt a sense of sadness for him. A month ago maybe she would have offered her ax to him. Though, from the fact that he was alone right now, she doubted He would accept such an offer.

When they returned to the main chamber, the room where each of the women’s parties had all met their match one by one, their eyes filled with the evidence of His executions. A scene resembling a one sided massacre. Scattered corpses numbering in the dozens. A hulking husk of the Hobgoblin, missing half of its upper body. Two Shamans murdered at its side. The rest, the lower ranking and feeble Goblins, all were decimated. Throats crushed or torn. Limbs ripped, broken, missing. Bodies gored out and left in grotesque heaps. Evidence of magical destruction none of the mages could explain. There was not a single survivor. There was not a single breathing enemy to be seen.

It made them all stop in their tracks. It made all of them stop breathing, their eyes looking left and right in disbelief. When she asked for confirmation, He answered without pause. Not a single Goblin was left alive, and He had even saved another party while doing it. All on his own. He cleared every tunnel, sealed the entrances and exits, and exterminated the nest in full. Goblins did not deserve mercy and he showed them none.

This was their confirmation. This was their evidence. Before them was a critical roll of the dice. He had rolled a natural 20. The Goblins had rolled a natural 1. There was nothing more to question, nothing more to wonder. He was truly the man who had given them the opportunity to see tomorrow. The man who had reached into the disgusting jaws of this forgotten pit and ripped out the throat of the wraiths who had stolen them away. The bloody gloves on his hands. The cuts and tears in his clothes. The weary look in his eyes.

Indeed, it was true. This man was no Hero. He was just a man who had pulled a request from a board. And the Goblins had been the unfortunate enemy on the paper.

Thus, when He said it was up to them what to do next, she could do nothing but smirk. He had done his part, he had freed them. What they did now was up to them. Some chose to leave, walking away to the surface at the first opportunity to escape this place. Others, however, remained behind. He was tired. That was easy to see. Who wouldn’t be after fighting such an enemy? Even so, He held the burden on his shoulders well. He did move with a bit of sluggishness to his feet but He did his best not to show it. But, it was enough for the women to notice, as they had done nothing but stare at him since He appeared. That made asking if he wanted help come naturally to them.

“Thanks.” When they were finished collecting the marks of his work, he deposited them all into his pouch. The bag he used already contained ears from another den from the look of it. Was this not his first of the day? Had he really cleared two Goblin nests in one go?

She dared not answer, nor did any of the others. They had no right to question the actions of their savior nor was there any need to. It didn’t look like he needed any more stress.

Once they were finished, He once more led them into the tunnel. This time, the last one that would lead to the surface. When they reached it, She and the others were met by a handful of other faces and smiles. It was the party He had rescued, along with another that had come by after by coincidence. They offered blankets, a bit of food, and safety from the empty nest. Their welcoming hands pushed away the chill of the forest and made the night seem a bit brighter. Another reminder that the terror of the nest was gone.

After some time, when her mind and the shaking in her hands finally settled, her eyes looked for him. She searched the small camp once, then twice, then thrice. Peering at every face and around every corner. She searched the nearby bushes and trees, wondering if he might be on guard duty. Then she dared peek into the Goblin nest again, wondering if He might be sitting inside. She nearly started looking beneath the stones and dirt! She looked in the few tents that had been propped up and finally found herself compelled to ask the so-called Leader of the group. Unable to find him anywhere, she was at her wits end.

“Oh, Him?” He said, his eyes turning in the direction of the forest. “He left after leaving you all with us. Something about making sure you all were given rest for the night before traveling back.”

Ah, so He was gone. She felt her heart fall and a large frown emerged on her face. Her hands clutched her blanket, tucking it around her dainty frame as she plopped down on a log. Then, her fingers began to toil with the knots in her brown hair. Her eyes settled on the large fire in front of her, but her mind was adrift with thoughts of him.

She at least wished to know his name, that man. That Adventurer who’s skin had been so intensely kissed by the sun.

“Good work. I’ll come by tomorrow to pick them up.” The driver of the cart nodded his head and took the map from Jake as he departed, heading back towards the village. His cart was already full of injured adventurers, saved victims, and several corpses. Corpses of those who were lucky to be found. There was no additional space for the survivors he’d just found.

With the passenger seat still open, the driver had offered Jake a ride back to the village but Jake had elected to walk. He instead wanted to bask in the night air a little bit longer. The faint breeze, the pure air, the sounds of insects within the trees. It was a calm night. There were no birds awake so late so there wasn’t much in terms of melodies ringing in the air, but the night had its own song. One that Jake found far more comfort in. The hanging moon and the twinkling lights in the sky illuminated the path, guiding him toward the village. He spotted a few campfires within the forest, each fairly close to the road likely to prepare for a speedy morning hike back.

The adventurers that surrounded those fires, those who were still breathing in the cart on the way back to the village, were all survivors. Jake had learned that today. After seeing them in action within that nest, after coming across those that were prisoners to the goblins, Jake understood that it was a privilege to still be standing right now. It was by a mix of luck and sweat that allowed him to still be breathing.

Others were not so lucky. After today, there would be several who would not be returning to the Guild to turn in their reports. Some may be lucky enough to return but maybe the report would be their last. Whether it was due to trauma incurred on their adventure or because of an injury that would inhibit future adventures, Jake could obviously not say. Yet, he understood the dangers he would now be privy to.

Two nests of Goblins were all it took to teach him how terrible of a job being an Adventurer was. While it had its glory, its moments of victory and celebration, those moments were earned. Not given. Adventurers had to struggle and claw out every bit of reward from the clutches of monsters. Otherwise, a grim fate awaited them. A fate potentially worse than death. Though many knew and understood the terrors of being an adventurer, as well as the horrors lurking just beyond the dark veil, they went on anyway. Marching forward, facing those dangerous beings with weapons and staves in hands, gambling with their very lives. Reasons behind each Adventurer’s motivations varied. Much like how Jake did it out of curiosity and to see the world his father saw, each person was different.

What they all shared, Jake learned, was a bit of stupidity. Only the foolish would take up such a job. Who in their right mind did this sort of thing? Wandering a frontier where help was days away, carrying barely enough provisions to get you there and back. With gear and weapons that could easily be broken if mishandled or maintained poorly. With allies who may not be worth their salt, who might turn on you or might die and leave you abandoned. Against enemies of unknown strength, unknown number, and unknown intelligence. Adventuring was a job of variables, where any one of them turned against you could spell your doom.

Jake clenched his jaw and squeezed his fists, his eyes closing as he took in a deep breath. Those variables were many and the certainties few. Even so, Adventurers marched on all the same. Seeking glory, treasure, a life of excitement, beauty beyond the veil, or just the potential for a simple and quiet life after years of hard work. Some even sought love, traveling in hopes of meeting a partner worth settling down with. Adventurers were an odd bunch, Jake thought, and he never swore to be different. No, this was the life he’d asked for. It just wasn’t the one he had expected.

Continuing his walk, Jake huffed and followed the road, pulling the tattered and slashed cloak in around him to block out at least some of the wind. It was a cool evening so he wasn’t cold or shivering, but that breeze would nip at him over time. He could use magic to fend it off but he was tired. He let out a slow breath, lowering his eyes to the stone path in front of him as he stepped. His mind continued to toil and wander, an understanding of his position becoming clear.

Up until now, he had not been an Adventurer before. His time in the Ravine? It was an expedition but not an adventure. He had gone there to train, develop, and learn. Within the Ravine, Jake developed his skillset. He honed his magic and swordsmanship, and fought many battles. But it was no Adventure. A journey of sorts, but could he call it an adventure?

Maybe, if he twisted his words to describe it as such but a key component was missing from that story. Something these people had that he did not. Was it a party? No. Jake had the Pharos team, the Warriors he bonded with, and the other Scout teams to back him up. He had Tul, Xul, and Yae. He had Darius, Helena, and Lydia. Mur, Hulgrok, Sid, Deris. He teamed up with each of them in a sort of slow cycle as he developed, until the final moment when he had to fight alone against the Maedra.

So it was not the party that he had been missing. Was it a lack of purpose? No, he definitely had that. Protecting Ewana was the purpose. Killing and suppressing the Maedra was the purpose. He had that and it drove him to perform a great many things within that pit. He learned much, trying to defeat them and fend them off on a daily basis.

And yet why did he feel so hollow when he thought about it? What did that excursion not have, that fighting those goblin nests did? Was it the change of scenery? The combat with a monster wielding a weapon? Was it the rescue and saving of those women, the saving of that other party? The execution of that large Goblin?

He gnawed on his cheek, gripped at the fabric of his cloak, bathing in the frustration that wracked his mind. The piece of the puzzle he could not see but could feel. It bothered him greatly and he fumbled over the meaning of that feeling. He was not excited, not happy, nor did he revel in the success of his raids. He had killed a woman. Failed to save all of the women in the second cave, and there hadn’t been some amazing trove of treasure after it all.

There wasn’t anything visibly different here. So why? Why did this make him feel so…

…alive?

Jake stopped, his eyes catching the lit torches of the village in the distance. He could see the guards standing firm at their posts and even a few late adventurers making their way through the gate.

Yes, that was what he felt here. He felt alive. As if he had accomplished something real, something that could have a potential effect on tomorrow. By killing those nests, by saving those women and that party, he’d allowed for tomorrow to come one more time for this village and those adventurers. He’d given them one more opportunity to see the sun rise and given the village more time to exist in this frontier. Where in the Ravine, time was always short, ticking, with the Maedra an ever present threat. No matter how many Jake killed or how far he pushed into the tunnel, the inevitable end was always there. Always looming and ready to collapse at any moment. An endless cycle that Jake simply could not put a stop to until he’d been freed from the shackles of the village.

It had taken the destruction of Ewana for Jake to realize what needed to be done. Deaths of over a hundred Oryx and a battle that had tested him. That was what it took for him to put a stop to those falling sands. It wasn’t until Jake had taken the head of that Maudraga that he felt relief and content with his time in that Ravine. But here, the results would be visible tomorrow. Those women would be retrieved by the roaming cart, returned to the Guild, and tended to by the clerics within. The adventuring party he’d rescued would come home, refit, and be able to fight again.

This was the difference. This was what made the heat in his chest make sense. This was the result of his adventure today- the gift of tomorrow, of freedom, and of life. By defeating those Goblins, clearing and destroying those nests…

Jake looked at the bloodied gloves in his hands, at the filth that covered his boots. He grimaced at the splatters of blood and muck on his clothes. He remembered the gritty fight, the one-sided desecration of the Goblins. His sweat today was a mark, one of many, that a request was fulfilled, two actually. His marks, along with the marks and successes of the other parties, meant that the monsters around this village were set back one more day. Caravans remained free to travel this road. Hunters could go out and kill game. The fishermen would not be ambushed on their morning walk to their boats.

“Ah… Now I understand, Father.” His fingers curled into fists and he raised his eyes to look at the village. The village that was still beating the throngs of life.

Adventurers had their reasons. Theirs why’s and because’s. Every one of them, like Jake, had their own trail of decisions leading them to this job. But, what bound them together was what their existence achieved. The right to see tomorrow. A right that was earned through the sacrifices of those lost today.

Feeling the fire in his chest, Jake felt his lips curl into a subtle smile. He took in another steady breath, calming the bubbling excitement in his core, then placed one foot in front of the other. He walked to the village gates, his eyes regaining a faint spark in their depths. A spark that might have been the same as another who had the same thoughts many years ago. Eyes that glimmered with not hope, but with a will to never let his fate be left to luck. Jake, like the others he had seen today, would earn his tomorrow. Every day, he would earn his right to adventure again. And along the way, if it meant rescuing others on the verge of losing their own, he would do the same thing that his Father would.

Gamble. Gamble and challenge Fate’s roll.

“And to think, I climbed into that pit thinking I was going to have a merry time,” Jake mumbled, huffing as he neared the gates.

“Welcome back.” One of the guards called out to Jake as the adventurer approached. The man then stepped forward and blocked the path forward. “Tag?”

Jake was tempted to point out that they had a full conversation the prior night, but he reminded himself that the question was likely just a task on the list. Routine work. Arguing would be a waste of time, both of theirs. Jake pulled the bland metal identification tag from beneath his shirt and held it out on his thumb for the guard to see. The other man only glimpsed at the tag, confirming that it was for an adventurer, before waving Jake through. “Good to go,” he said, stepping away and returning to his post. “Stay safe,” he remarked, offering a brief smile to Jake.

Entering the village so late at night again made Jake feel like this was about to become the norm for him. Much like how he operated in the Ravine, he would leave in the morning, fight all day and into the night, then return for a brief bout of sleep just to recover his mana. All to do it again the next day. He had five days of this. Five days to make as much of an impact here as possible before that caravan arrived. Well, four days now that this one was spent.

It seemed he had arrived later than even his prior evening, as there wasn’t anyone else awake aside from the few other late returners. There were only a handful of them, maybe three parties of four and two duos if he was counting properly. The streets were vacant otherwise and only a few homes had candles still lit within them. Even the tavern was silent, with chairs and benches flipped up on top of cleaned tables.

Two of the four parties had finished their business with the guild already and were returning to their sleeping areas, while Jake and the others eventually made their way into the building. It surprised him that the doors were still open. Was the Guild open all night?

Behind the desk, two receptionists were still standing dutifully at their posts. When Jake walked through the door, the girl on the left peeked over to spot him. Those red lips heaved a tired sigh and her head tilted down. Relief. The small gesture was enough to get her emotions across, and it made Jake a little disappointed in himself. He had always been told to never keep a lady waiting, of course.

The other parties didn’t step up to the desks immediately and instead were gathered off to the side at the tables and benches. From what Jake overheard, they were going over their reports and ensuring their details matched up. One of each party worked as a scribe, etching down the details of their expeditions while the others discussed the events of their journeys. Jake, alone and without others to corroborate with, strode directly up to the counter. The receptionist greeted him with a tired smile. She leaned against the desk, using its sturdy wood to support her tired frame. From how dainty she was, Jake wondered if she might whittle away after one too many of these nights..

“Welcome back,” she said, her voice soft but plenty warm. From the redness around her eyes and the messy state her once neat and tidy hair was in, Jake could tell she must have been fighting her exhaustion to stay awake.

Jake nodded. “Thanks. Do you always wait for people to return? It’s pretty late.” He asked, looking over at the other receptionist who was also standing there. She gave him a brief smile.

The red lipped receptionist giggled. “No, only when we get new adventurers. Most of us like to congratulate them upon completion of their first job and be there to issue the first reward. It’s almost tradition at this point.” The girl sighed. “Though, I wasn’t expecting you to come back so late. I thought you’d return before evening. When you took two requests, I didn’t expect you to do them both in one day.”

“Oh?” Jake raised a brow and pulled the bag from his back. “Sorry. The nests took some extra effort.” He set the blood soaked bag onto the desk. “There were a lot of goblins. In the second nest, I came across a lot of survivors I had to tend to as well. Collecting the ears and making sure the survivors were taken care of was a bit time consuming. I’ll make sure to be quicker next time.”

At the sight of the hefty bag, both receptionists stared with wide, bright eyes. They exchanged looks, then returned to staring at the bag. They watched Jake release the straps, revealing the two storage spaces stuffed to the brim with goblin ears. Not all of them were in the best of conditions, as some were scalded, burnt, torn, or were missing chunks. Yet they all clearly belonged to goblins. A lot of goblins. And they smelled horrible. It made the receptionist crinkle her nose as the stench wafted out of the bag. Seeing her negative reaction, Jake closed the flap to contain it.

“The distance between the nests was also quite a walk. That took time as well,” Jake explained.

The receptionist looked up at him, her lips pressed firmly together. “Did you…” She paused, clearing her throat before forcing herself to speak again. “Did you kill them all by yourself?”

Not hesitating, Jake nodded. “The first nest didn’t have that many. Less than forty. Most of these ears came from the second. There was another party in the second nest too, but they’ll return in the morning. I had them stay back with the survivors since it was late.”

The receptionist looked to her coworker and the girls seemed uncertain what to do at first. But, then another body emerged from behind them. A tall elf man wearing glasses and dressed in a similar green uniform that matched the ladies’. Though he looked experienced and well versed in the workings of the Guild, his elven face was still full of youth. A blessing of race.

“Well done, Adventurer,” he said, announcing himself as he stepped up behind the girls. They both flinched and straightened their backs, assuming more professional outlooks. “Clearing a small nest is one thing, but that larger northern nest has been a pain for a long time. We’ve sent several parties but they’ve either been unsuccessful, or have not returned at all.” He frowned as he placed a hand on the red haired girl’s shoulder, helping her calm down with the firm grip. “It will take some time for us to count the ears and it is very late. Could you come back in the morning for your reward?”

“Yes, I can do that. Would you like my report then, too?” Jake glanced over at the other parties, who were still working.

“That would do fine. I think Evelyn here could use a rest. She’s been quite worried about you.” The man teased, his lips curling into a devious smile.

The girl’s face flushed red as she looked down. “S-Sir, please!” She gripped onto the hem of her shirt and frowned.

“I see. I will return in the morning then. Thanks for your hard work.” Jake bowed his head to the girl.

“Y-You too!” The girl jumped from the gesture and awkwardly returned the bow. When she stood up, her face was even more red than before. It earned her a laugh from her coworkers.

“Thank you, Adventurer. With that nest cleared, we can put more attention into some of the smaller ones around. When the survivors return, we’ll also take their reports and collect the names of the missing and deceased.” The manager said.

Jake nodded. “Understood.” With that, Jake turned on his heels and began to head for the door. As he walked, his eyes noticed the stares from two of the parties.

“Wait, isn’t that…?”

“He just got here, I thought.”

“Two nests? And the one in the north? Didn’t Kain go that way?”

“Did you see that bag of ears?!”

The whispers, which were much louder than they thought, reached his ears with ease in the largely silent hall. Jake didn’t meet their gazes. He kept his head straight and his stride steady. He let them talk their own mutterings and let his results speak for him. All he hoped was that these adventurers wouldn’t spread rumors or gossip just yet. Jake wanted to be in and out the next morning without any hiccups. If he could beat their stories of him coming back with that bag, then he wouldn’t have to deal with any brave souls that might want to get in his way.

Not that he thought any of them would anyway. If his reputation preceded him and word spread of a single, lone adventurer killing two nests, Jake figured it would be enough to dissuade the curious and more cowardly ones. However, Jake did acknowledge that goblins were ranked rather low. The stronger, more experienced adventurers would still stick their nose in his business, likely in an attempt to recruit him into their own parties. That was a fact. But, he hoped that experience of theirs would instead make them less willing to prod and more focused on their own work. It would be the ones still trying to make a name for themselves that would be the issue, like the ones who might just so happen to have a new hole in their formation..

“Great…” Jake mumbled to himself, already feeling the annoyance as he pulled the Guild hall door closed behind him. It shut with a thump.

Jake returned to the inn right after and found yet another person up late, waiting. Sat behind the counter, Ralph had a candle lit on the counter and a book open in his hands. Upon hearing the door open, Ralph looked up. His mustache wiggled as his lips curled into a smile.

“A bit late again, aren’t you?” He called out, chuckling and grinning. “You do know it’s best to be in bed before the moon is halfway across the sky, right?”

Jake smirked and pulled the door closed behind him. “So I’ve been told.” Jake walked inside and found a few plates of food set on one of the tables.

“For you. My wife saw me sitting here and when I told her I was waiting, she made some food.” Ralph closed the book and stood up. “I can heat that soup up for you if you’d prefer it warm.”

Jake stopped beside the table, his fingertips slowly dragging around the rim of the full bowl. It was a meaty potato soup with fresh vegetables chopped up inside of it. Beside the bowl was a cooked potato with now chilled butter slathered over it in a glaze, three handmade dumplings, an assortment of fresh fruit, and even a slice of dessert. “No. This is fine.” Jake pulled his swords from his hip and set them down within arm’s reach against the wall. As he sat down in his chair, Ralph pulled a cup from behind the counter.

“Would you like a drink?” He asked.

“Something sweet is fine,” Jake answered, closing his eyes for a moment. “Nala es’tu en Shalam,” he muttered, thanking Lady Shalam for the meal.

He ate slowly, enjoying the taste of each piece of cold food that had been so delicately prepared for him. Even without heat, the food was delicious. Enough to warm his tired bones and fuel his weary body. Now that he was sitting, the fatigue of his fighting and the long stretches of walking was coming around. It wasn’t enough to knock him out but plenty to make him sigh a few times. Ralph returned a few moments later with a cup of grape wine. Something to warm him up with a little flavor and heat behind it.

Jake sipped on the wine and ate in silence, cleaning the bowl and the plates of their contents. When he was finished, Ralph collected the plates and brought them to the back room.

Just as Jake was about to head up the stairs, Ralph reemerged from the back room. “I don’t know how you’ve lived your life before this, Mr. Furrow,” he said, lifting the candle by the plate at its base. “But too many long days like this one will make you old and tired like me much faster than you think.”

The words of care were ones that Jake found himself appreciating more than he thought he might. Words spoken from the heart from a man who’s probably seen far too many Adventurers run themselves into the ground. Adventurers who thought they could carry the burdens of the world on their shoulders and greet the challenges of that world every day without fear. Only to one day come up short and be forgotten.

However, Jake was no ordinary adventurer. “Thanks, Ralph. I’ll keep that in mind.”

And Jake had no intention of following in the same steps of those ordinary adventurers.