MERCS:

  Greenblade | Twerk | Sharptooth | The Hoffmeister | Pecs | Fortune | Mental | Tree | Hubert | Mila | The Explorer | Bletcher | The Bludgeoner | Randall the Heavy-Handed | Lurin Veinfinder | Rumblewind

  “Thank you for hosting us, Eva,” Ashlyn said, giving the woman a hug.

  “It was delicious,” said Jaelin.

  “You have a lovely house,” added Mila.

  “It was lovely to meet Georg’s friends,” said Eva.

  “Maybe we should host next time?” Mila asked Jaelin.

  “Of course.”

  “Come, friends,” said The Hoffmeister. “Time to go.”

  The four of them left Georg’s house, first heading for the outskirts of Mer Khazer.

  “You’ve done well for yourself there, Georg,” Ashlyn commented.

  “I am very lucky,” he agreed.

  “Looks like you're going to settle down,” Mila said. “Get married, and everything.”

  “I hope so.”

  Ashlyn saw Mila glance at Jaelin, and The Explorer look away. She fought off a smile. She knew she shouldn’t find it funny, but spending the evening with two couples had left her feeling a little jealous.

  “Victor’s place is here,” Georg said, leading them off the mud street.

  Pecs had bought himself a small property in Mer Khazer. On the land he’d built a shed, where Hubert now lived. Both emerged from their homes.

  Ashlyn was still nervous of the bear. He walked over, sniffed, walked away, and sat down. Georg went over to greet him, and they patted one another.

  “I missed you at Georg’s place,” Ashlyn told Victor.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t leave Hubert on his own.”

  Georg looked over. “Huh. He just doesn’t like to socialise.”

  Pecs shrugged his big shoulders. “We going to see the others now?”

  “It’s time,” The Hoffmeister confirmed.

  “Is Hubert coming with us?” Jaelin asked doubtfully.

  “He’s a member of The Rotten Apples,” Pecs said flatly.

  Jaelin nodded his assent.

  They made their way back down the street towards the centre of town. It was a pleasant Spring evening. The Apples had taken over the garden at the rear of The Squished Plums. There was food, drink, and companionship. Even the newest recruits—Randall, Lurin, and Rilie—had quickly integrated into the ranks of the squad. Meanwhile, Hubert and Sharptooth romped together away from the humans.

  “We are gathered,” Larik began, “to discuss the proposed raid on Strong Club. Seven of us successfully infiltrated Darkspike. But Strong Club is different and will need all of us to be involved. The goblins are more numerous, and more organised. The Explorer had already been inside Darkspike once before. We don’t know the layout of Strong Club.”

  “So we have no idea what we’re walking into?” Fortune demanded.

  “The Explorer has done some initial scouting.” Larik nodded at Jaelin.

  “It’s very difficult terrain,” Jaelin said. “The easiest route involves crossing a rope bridge over a gorge. After that, you’re immediately in their territory. The place is full of caves. Some must lead down into the dungeon, but I didn’t risk trying them alone.”

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  “What’s down there?” Randall asked.

  “The goblins have been raiding, with increasing frequency,” Larik told him. “There’s recent takings, for sure. But the place hasn’t been seen by human, or dwarf for that matter, in centuries. There could be a hoard of old treasure down there.”

  “A hoard?” said Randall. “I like the sound of that.”

  “That’s all very well,” said Wilson. “But that’s a whole lot of goblins you’re talking about. They’re not likely to welcome trespassers down there. Meanwhile, a silent infiltration ain’t exactly everyone’s strong point.” He eyed the warg and bear as he said it.

  “That’s what we’re here to discuss,” Larik said. “I’m hoping we can come up with a plan.”

  Approaching the goblins’ stronghold in broad daylight felt deeply wrong. It didn’t matter how many times she was told it was the last thing they would expect; or that goblins had better night vision than humans; Ashlyn felt exposed and vulnerable.

  The rocky terrain was full of caves. Their size varied; some were at ground level, while others were high in the jagged cliffs that surrounded them. Every single one felt like a silent threat to Ashlyn—capable of concealing goblin lookouts in their dark maws.

  Via a series of hand gestures, Jaelin and Henning divided their force of twelve into two groups of six.

  Ashlyn followed The Explorer, along with Mila, the two dwarves, and the halfling. They climbed the rocks towards a cave entrance that sat halfway up the cliff face. Tree led his band towards its neighbour.

  Jaelin held up a hand for them to wait, then continued alone. He had chosen to wield his spear rather than his bow, presumably because he anticipated a surprise attack at close quarters. He entered the cave, vanishing into the darkness.

  Mila’s knuckles went white as she gripped her dagger.

  Rilie spun her sling around. Ashlyn couldn’t tell whether she was readying herself for combat, or just using up some nervous energy. Either way, the constant flicking motion began to grate on her nerves. She was pleased when Randall gave the halfling a prod, and she stilled.

  Jaelin reappeared. He pointed back into the cave, then drew a flat hand along his neck. There was fighting to be done.

  Randall grinned with pleasure. Lurin tugged his helmet down. Rilie placed a bullet in her sling. Ashlyn readied Greenblade. Her sword would glow green should wargs be close, which was a very real possibility. Mila led their ascent, reaching Jaelin’s position without making a sound.

  He held up five fingers.

  Ashlyn’s mouth went dry, and she felt sick. The moments before combat were the worst. When it started, some other part of her mind would take over.

  They entered the cave and waited while their sight adjusted. Ashlyn was relieved to have the dwarves with them. It was less likely they would cede initiative to the enemy. She began to make out the edges of the cave. It was only about forty feet wide; but it stretched deep into the cliff, far beyond her limited sight.

  The Explorer pointed to a gap on the right. It looked like an artificial entrance; perhaps to a guard room.

  Randall and Lurin marched towards it, apparently keen to be the ones to spill blood. Ashlyn had heard stories of dwarven hatred for greenskins—an animosity said to be embedded in their psyche. Certainly, this pair did nothing to dispel them.

  She followed them towards the entrance. They didn’t pause, barging into the guardroom. Their direct approach was rewarded. They got the jump on the five goblins inside, some of them barely rising from their pallets before they were faced with dwarven axes.

  ACTION ROUND

  Randall sent the first to Gehenna with a weighty blow from Splitter on his first action. It opened the room to the rest of the crew. He moved on to the next, connecting with an equally brutal hit from the magic infused battle-axe. He was close enough to the third to hit out where he stood. He sent the goblin to the floor, barely clinging to life.

  Lurin charged the fourth goblin, his pickaxe dealing 6 points of damage. He failed to land a blow after that, the goblin able to avoid his murderous swings.

  Ashlyn followed him into the fray. A second attack was too much for Lurin’s opponent, Greenblade skewering the goblin. She sidestepped towards the final enemy, using the movement to free her sword and then build a swing. The goblin dived away, jumping to the other side of its bed. Her glancing sword blow was still enough to drop it to 6 hit points.

  Rilie’s bullet caught it on the back of its neck. It slumped against the wall, then fell to the floor.

  Ashlyn noticed Jaelin pretend to spear the unconscious goblin. He was playing a dangerous little game. But neither dwarf noticed, and the one-sided fight was done.

  Ashlyn heard the sound of combat coming through the rock wall. Tree’s team were dealing with their own set of goblin guards. There was a bloodcurdling scream.

  “Damn it,” Jaelin hissed.

  “Don’t worry,” Randall said. “That was a goblin’s death cry.”

  “It’s being heard that worries me,” The Explorer said.

  They waited in the darkness—listening. Ashlyn tried to ignore the stench from the dead goblins.

  Then she heard the howls of wargs; the echoed shouts of goblins reached them. They looked at one another in disappointment. The sound of feet pounding down tunnels reached them.

  Mila was staring at Greenblade. When Ashlyn looked, she saw the green gemstone in its pommel flickering into life.

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