Liam Carter
The walk back to the city was quiet. The weight of the burlap sack over my shoulder—the one filled with freshly severed goblin ears—made every step feel heavier than it should have.
Evelyn trudged beside me, her face pale but set with a determination that was almost impressive. She hadn’t complained once about the smell coming from the bag, which was more than I could say for myself.
“Do you think they’re going to count them?” she asked after a long stretch of silence.
“Probably,” I muttered. “No way they’re handing over silver without verifying.”
She made a face, glancing at the sack with visible distaste. “That’s someone’s job? Counting goblin ears?”
“Someone’s got to do it,” I said, shrugging. “Might as well be them.”
The city gates came into view as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the stone walls. The guards at the entrance gave us curious looks as we passed, but neither of them said a word.
The guildhall was bustling when we arrived, the air thick with the smells of sweat, ale, and roasted meat. Adventurers crowded around the long tables, swapping stories and laughing loudly over their drinks.
I headed straight for the clerk at the counter, dropping the sack onto the wood with a dull thud. Evelyn stayed a step behind me, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.
The clerk, a thin man with a perpetual scowl, raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”
“Goblin ears,” I said. “Twenty-one, plus a chief. Hideout cleared.”
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The room quieted slightly as heads turned in our direction.
“Twenty-one?” the clerk repeated, his tone skeptical.
“And the chief,” Evelyn added, her voice steady. “It’s all there.”
The clerk sighed, pulling the sack closer and opening it. The faint stench made him grimace, but he started counting, his fingers moving quickly through the pile of bloody trophies.
After a few minutes, he nodded, looking up at us with a faint trace of respect. “Twenty-one, like you said. Plus the chief. That’s fifty silver per goblin and an extra hundred for clearing the hideout.”
He scribbled something in a ledger, then pulled out a heavy pouch from beneath the counter. “Your total: one thousand one hundred fifty silver.”
I took the pouch, its weight satisfying in my hand. Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything.
“Good work,” the clerk said gruffly. “You’re free to take another quest if you’re interested.”
We stepped away from the counter, finding an empty table near the corner of the room. I dropped the pouch onto the wood, pulling out a handful of coins to divide between us.
“Five hundred seventy-five each,” I said, sliding her share across the table.
Evelyn hesitated, then took the coins, her fingers brushing the silver with an almost reverent look. “I can’t believe we actually made that much.”
“Believe it,” I said, tucking my share into my pouch. “But don’t get used to it. Not every job’s going to pay this well.”
She nodded, still staring at the coins before tucking them into her satchel. “So… now what?”
I gestured toward the bounty board near the entrance. “We see what else is on offer.”
The board was just as cluttered as before, but one notice stood out. It was newer than the others, the ink fresh and the parchment still crisp.
Quest: Stop a Local Ranger
Location: Western Woods, near the Elder Grove.
Objective: Prevent a rogue ranger from slaughtering wildlife indiscriminately.
Reward: 300 silver.
Evelyn raised an eyebrow, glancing at me. “A ranger? Doesn’t that sound… backwards? Aren’t they supposed to protect the forest?”
“Supposed to,” I said, pulling the notice from the board. “But if this guy’s rogue, there’s no telling what his deal is.”
“Three hundred silver doesn’t seem like much,” she pointed out.
“Three hundred more than we had this morning,” I said.
She sighed, crossing her arms. “Fine. Let’s do it. But if this guy turns out to be some sort of psycho, I’m blaming you.”
“Fair enough,” I said with a smirk, tucking the notice into my belt. “Let’s head out.”