Chương 35: Chapter 28: Max - Because It's The Right Thing To Do

Max stepped out of the Wayfarer's Rest and into Brindleford's morning churn. The streets were damp from an overnight drizzle, cobblestones shining under the thin gray light. Vendors were still arranging their stalls, thumping crates into place and calling to one another above the noise of carts rolling past. Smoke drifted from chimneys and mixed with the scents of damp wool, wet earth, baking bread, and a hundred voices competing for the day to begin.

He pulled his cloak tighter against the cold breeze and crossed the square toward the Adventurer's Guild. He had almost reached the doors when he heard a voice cutting through the morning noise. It was thin and strained with desperation.

"Please. Someone, please." A young woman stood near the bottom of the guild steps where foot traffic funneled past. Nineteen, maybe twenty. She had long flowing red hair and wore a set of travel-worn clothes. A bow was slung across her back, and Max noticed she had a rolled up notice clutched in pale fingers. She tried to catch the attention of two passing adventurers.

"Please, I just need—" One brushed past her without looking at her. The other muttered something about wastes of time. The young woman flinched, then steadied herself and tried again with someone else. Max slowed. He felt the pull immediately. The instinct to step in. He forced himself forward. He didn't know the job, or the danger, or, just as importantly, the pay. He would check the board inside the Guild Hall first. That was how you stayed alive.

Still, he glanced back toward her once before pushing open the Guild door. The Adventurer's Guild was warmer than the square outside, though not by much. The air held the familiar mix of leather, damp wool, sweat, and the constant simmer of a hearth that never quite conquered the smell of old timber. Adventurers clustered around tables, arguing over coin splits or laughing too loudly. Two clerks scribbled at the front desk while a mercenary in dented mail attempted to negotiate a repair he clearly could not afford.

A wall map dominated the far side of the room, inked rivers and trade routes stretching across Valdarin and the lands beyond. Max's eyes drifted north. The Northwilds sat there in dark ink. Roads thinned as they approached it, then stopped altogether. The map didn't attempt to explain what lay inside. It simply left space for a few small scribbles. Unsettled. Unclaimed. Dangerous. He stared at the map for just a moment longer, then let it go and turned toward the notice boards.

"You better not be looking at the rat job," Cass said without turning. She'd appeared at his side like a shadow, hood up, posture loose but ready. A dagger spun lazily between her fingers. A crossbow rested across her back.

"I'm not," Max said, a bit defensively.

"I have a little dignity left."

"Just a little," she replied dryly. Max just rolled his eyes. Borin and Elias joined them moments later. Borin walked like a boulder that had decided to grow legs, and Elias trailed behind him, rubbing ink from his fingers, a book tucked under his arm.

"What fresh misery have we today?" Elias asked.

"Public-board misery," Cass answered.

"Just like every day. Until we find a fifth." Max skimmed the board. Wolves at the eastern treeline. A swamp run. Caravan escort. A missing farmhand notice written with more hope than coin. Sewer clearance. A haunting near a mill that sounded like drunks and bad lighting. None of it felt right to Max. None of it felt worth racing toward. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Max exhaled.

"Nothing good here today," he said finally.

"Agreed," said Elias as he finished scanning the board.

"So what do we do then? Another day of drinking to pass the time? No thanks." He screwed up his face, as if the thought itself bothered him.

"The girl outside," Max said. Cass's dagger slowed.

"What girl?"

"The one asking for help. Don't tell me you didn't notice her."

"She could be asking for anything."

"She's asking adventurers," Max said. Elias glanced toward the door.

"If she posted something, it's not on the board." Borin's eyes narrowed slightly.

"She's still there?" Max nodded to him.

"Yeah. I saw her just a few minutes ago when I entered the Hall. Cass sighed.

"Fine. But if it's something silly again like laundry theft or a lost dog, you can handle it on your own this time." Elias smiled faintly.

"All hail Max, the hero of misplaced socks." Borin grunted with amusement.

"That was one time," Max grumbled to himself as they headed to the door.

"And they were very nice socks." They stepped back out into the square together. The young woman Max had seen had only moved slightly, positioning herself where adventurers exiting the Guild Hall had to pass her. She was learning the flow of traffic. Max approached and stopped a comfortable distance away.

"You've been trying to get someone's attention," he said. She turned quickly, surprise flashing before she quickly masked it.

"Yes. I need help. My family needs help. I've been trying to get someone to talk to about it, but everyone has been ignoring me." Her eyes moved across them. Sword. Hammer. Staff. Crossbow.

"My name is Alina," she said, then added, "Alina Crestwood."

"Well, Alina Crestwood. Tell us what's been happening that caused you to come to the Adventurer's Guild for help," Max said. Alina drew a steadying breath.

"My family farm is a day east of here. Near Brookhollow village. For the past month, goblins have been coming out of the woods and raiding our farm." Cass's posture shifted subtly, her interest piqued.

"For a month? Consistently? How many?"

"Just five or six at first," Alina continued.

"Then more. They break fences, smash tools, take chickens. Sometimes they leave them half-dead just to make noise."

"To frighten," Borin said.

"Yes." Her jaw clenched.

"But they've changed in the last week or two. They come every few nights now. It's not random or chaotic anymore like the goblin raids we've experienced in years past. They keep coming back. Same side of the fields. Same approach." Elias frowned.

"That is unusually persistent for goblins. And unusual. Anything else you can tell us about them?"

"They don't run far when we chase them," Alina said, picking up steam and confidence in equal measure as she realized they were actually listening to her.

"Just far enough to reach the tree line. Then they vanish."

"How many came last time?" Max asked.

"Eight. Maybe more. It was dark." She hesitated.

"They were moving around the storehouse. Not rushing, or fighting over scraps. Just… circling. Like they were looking for the entrance." Cass and Borin exchanged a brief look.

"Any injuries?" Cass asked.

"Not yet." Alina's voice hardened.

"Two nights ago they nearly surrounded my father before I drove them off."

"You hit it?" Elias asked, eyeing her bow.

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Upper chest," she said without hesitation.

"It dropped. We burned the body in the morning." Borin's eyes flicked to her bow again. Cass studied her more carefully now.

"You hunt?"

"Yes, I've hunted on our land since I was old enough to hold a bow."

"How far can you shoot cleanly?" Cass asked.

"Forty paces without thinking. Sixty to eighty if I take my time." Borin gave a slow nod. Max asked, "Do you know where the goblins are coming from?"

"There's a hollow east of our fields," Alina said.

"We don't go near it anymore."

"Why?"

"It just… feels wrong," she said simply.

"And now they come from it."

"And your offer? How much is the pay for taking the job?" Cass asked. Alina braced herself.

"Twelve silver now. Twelve after. Food and a place to sleep while you're on the farm." It wasn't a lot, Max knew. In fact, it was downright terrible pay. No wonder most adventurers had been ignoring her pleas. Not many would risk themselves for that small amount of coin. Silence followed in the wake of her words. Alina shifted nervously as the silence stretched.

"Please, it's all we can afford. We really need your help." Max opened his mouth, but Cass's hand shot up, stopping him.

"No," she said.

"No, we are not going to that part yet." She looked at Max, then sighed dramatically.

"Fine, if you want to. But we all know exactly what you're about to say, so go ahead. Get it over with." Max blinked in confusion.

"I— what?" Elias chuckled under his breath. Borin shook his head but gestured for Max to go on. Alina watched, confused, as if she'd stumbled into a ritual with rules she didn't know. Max rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, cleared his throat, and spoke.

"If we only take jobs that pay well, then we're not adventurers. We're mercenaries. And if we don't help people who actually need it, then we should just turn in our badges and sell our blades to the highest bidder." Elias nodded approvingly, and gave a sarcastic small round of applause.

"Short, for you. Not half bad though. Very heroic."

"Still too many words," Cass said, though she was smiling now.

"Good lad," Borin said with a chuckle, and that was that. Alina stared between them, trying to understand the sudden shift in mood.

"Does that mean…?" Max looked at the others, then nodded.

"Yes. We'll help you." The relief that flooded her face was so immediate it almost made her look younger than she was.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Truly."

"We'll need about an hour," Max said.

"For supplies. Then we leave. Can you meet us at the east gate?"

"I'll be there," she said. She turned to leave, then stopped and added, almost as an afterthought, "And I can fight. I will not be a burden." Cass's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Then listen when we give orders."

"I will." Max nodded once. They parted ways, each moving into the morning rush. The square carried on as if nothing had changed. Max adjusted his sword belt and headed for the market. They would need oil, rope, and extra lanterns. If the goblins were coming every few nights as described, they would not be walking into a simple fence repair.