Our deafening silence was ended only by the spellsword. "Lang, do you have brain damage?"

"No, I've already healed him," the paladin said. "He's just gone mad."

The snow-bearded gnome's eyes seemed to gleam behind his glasses. He carried with him a small cane, and he extended it to me in a gesture splitting the difference between a hand up and disdain. I accepted it eagerly. "I shall forgive your insults my compatriots, most graciously. What has not occurred, fools that you are," he said, "Is that we owe this creature our lives no less than three times over."

The barbarian was still picking flecks of gore off his muscles. He had black hair and dark eyes set against his green skin. A constant vacant look was on his face. "You care about honor too now Lang? These ones are bad enough."

"No, Nordak," the gnome chided, "I care about protecting my investments. Which are clearly at risk."

That word, investments, seemed like a slap in the face to them all, save Lang. It made the others turn their faces away, ashamed.

I had a hard time not ignoring them for the gold in my hands. The only thing that kept me from hobbling off as fast as I could was the promise of more. Even with unfathomable wealth now in my possession, I felt that need.

"So..." I wanted to broach the subject, but I didn't want to press my luck. Goblins were considered worse than trash by the other races, so I was on the razor's edge here. One wrong move or gross sound and they might just kill me and be done with it.

"'So' then, little goblin?" Lang picked up my question. "You want to know what I have in mind, as I'm sure my associates do as well."

I nodded eagerly.

"Nothing less than what I do best!" Swiftly he produced a piece of paper from his inner coat, and brandished it in my face. "I, Mirius Lang, happen to be an expert in the ways of the mutually beneficent notion known as the business deal. The 'art' of the deal, if you will."

"Oh, Gods!" The spellsword groaned. "So you are actually serious? You're offering him a cut in!? Why the devil would you do that?"

Lang handed me a pen and pointed me to the dotted line at the bottom of his contract. "A small cut, of course, but a cut nonetheless. You can read, can't you dear, umm... What was your name then, creature?"

I could sign my name well enough, so I just lied about the reading bit. Not common, anyway. "Bogart, sir. Mister sir. Great mister gnome sir."

"Yes, Sir will suffice. Well then, Bogart my lad, just sign here and you will be entitled to a healthy five percent."

"Five?" I asked.

"You do understand what I'm talking about, right? It's an agreement that entitles you for your work to a portion of the total treasure that we-"

"Yeah, yea no, I got that bit," I told him. "But there'd be like five of us, right? So... shouldn't it be like, I dunno, twenty percent?"

He seemed almost astonished that I knew what one fifth of a hundred was. Never mind that I had found the balls to haggle him.

"Quite... astute. But wrong, regardless. My cut is higher as I am the financier of this party. I take sixty percent off the top. These, technically my employees, take ten each, and that you see is the rate of seniority. And you are after all in the eyes of the law... vermin. So, I believe five is appropriate, if not generous, as a starting payment."

Fuck you too pal, I thought. But hell if he didn't have me by the nads. He could see how bad I wanted more.

I answered a question with a question to buy more time for thinking. My bullshit radar was going off hard by this point. It all just seemed too good to be true. An hour ago, these guys were killing my tribe, and ten minutes ago I was trying to figure out how to kill them back. Now we were haggling a business deal. Something didn't add up. "So, uh, what will I be doing for the job then?" I asked.

"Nothing very different from what you've done today. As you, and I think everyone here has seen, we are woefully in need of some dungeoneering expertise. None of us got our start at adventuring you see. I was a businessman in need of a new venture, and my friends here were... Well anyway, what we need is a scout and a guide. Sneaking ahead. Disabling traps. Picking locks. Not too dangerous for an expert goblin like yourself, I should say!"

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He was right. That was all my bread and butter. Which is why, despite my better sense, I heard myself pushing it. "So, I mean, that's gotta be worth at least ten percent though, right?"

There was a flash of anger on Lang's face that quickly faded. He leaned in close as he spoke. "Tell me, what is a goblin like yourself going to do with five whole pieces of gold, let alone more?"

I hesitated. It felt like a trap. "Buy things, I guess?"

"Will you treat yourself to some nice rotten meat from the beetle traders who will doubtlessly scalp you? Maybe some badland mutant whore would serve you for a time? Hmm? But what can it really do for you by the month's end except get you killed by ogres as soon as word spreads?"

That was uncannily close to what I had planned, I thought. Damn him.

"It's not as if there's a money changer out here, is there Bogart? You'd have to trade that gold for pennies on the dollar to get copper you can even spend. See, people always miss the implications. That's where the good and the bad of any deal are hiding. So let me spell it out for you. Five percent is more than you deserve, but in fact I am offering you something far more priceless."

I looked from him back to the others, who had now gone bitterly to their own end of the room to talk. It was just us.

"What is that?" I finally asked.

"Patronage. A hold in the civilized world. A cover for your wretched social ostracization, poor oppressed monster that you are. Under my wing, you will be able to spend your gold for what it is actually worth. Shopkeepers will tolerate you long enough to sell you-"

My eyes went wide as I shouted. "Fresh eggs!?"

"Y-yes... Fresh eggs, Bogart. Fresh meat. Anything that you can afford as an upstanding man. And you will not have to worry about ogres or your kin slitting your throat in your sleep."

"Fuck those guys!" I shouted.

"Yes!" Lang laughed. He knew that he had me sold. "Indeed. To hell with them, dear boy."

Without any further delay, I signed the contract, and he rolled it away. The deal was done, and I was in his service. For better or worse.

As we rejoined the others, I saw that they were standing over the conjurer's old treasure chest. They had dumped out the contents and were now staring intently at gold and trinket, discussing who should get what.

"What do I do now?" I whispered to Lang. Trying to get a jump on this whole 'employee' thing.

"Oh, nothing," he said. "I'll sort your cut for you back at the guild. As we all will." He said the last bit somewhat forcefully, muscling aside his allies to begin scooping their haul into his own sack.

"Well." the spellsword looked down at me, grimacing. "I guess I'm Bradley. Since you're actually here to stay... for now."

I extended my hand to shake. Humans did that, right? "Good to meet ya."

He simply pretended to flip his fabulous hair back and ignore me. All the while he was still fiddling with that sword of his at his hip. I'd never seen anything so ornate. It seemed to radiate power, and I had to remind myself not to try and steal it later. Long term planning, I repeated to myself inside. Long term planning. I couldn't waste this opportunity like those other idiots back at camp would. I'd always been smarter than my kin.

The half orc barbarian took me off guard as he stole the handshake meant for Bradley. "Well met little goblin! I am Nordak!"

"I'm Bogart," I said.

"Yes! I have eaten your kind before."

"What the?" I tried to figure out why he’d say that to me, but I quickly thought better of it. "Okay, sure big guy." That was all I could think to say.

"That one is Freya." He pointed to the paladin.

I snickered to myself as I ribbed him. "That's a girl's name."

Nordak dumbly nodded. "Yes! I knew that too. She hits me with her hammer sometimes."

Freya had apparently caught our little exchange and, to illustrate the point, took off her helmet.

"Oh."

Her face was delicate and fair. Her white-blonde hair seemed to flow in a breeze that I couldn't feel, and when she spoke again, it was the same raspy voice as before, only now it came from what was unmistakably a woman. "Foul creature," she regarded me. "I would crush you under my boot."

"That's fucking hot."

Lang rapped me over the head with his cane before she could lay into me. "Manners," he warned.

"Oh, sorry boss." Today was a confusing day.

With them all pooling around the conjuror's chest, I decided to look my way over the rest of the room. If there was anything goblins did well, it was scavenge. Just then I remembered something.

I could move well on the sly, but not with Lang's full attention. Looking under tables and behind armor cases, checking corpses; all to see what I could find. I made a good impression on Lang by handing him over a pair of silver rings I found on one of the bodies. He seemed pleased to note my loyalty, but I was just building up a little trust. His eyes had been on me since the moment I left his side, and I knew he wouldn't start ignoring me until I gave him a little assurance.

As soon as he was satisfied that I wasn't about to stab them in the back, he returned to counting jewels. Meanwhile, I made my way over to the fallen chandelier. I had remembered: the conjuror had had emerald inset eyes. Big, beautiful jewels of some kind. Just looking at them got me hard, and surely enough they were still waiting for me there.

These asshats had no idea how to really pick a room clean.

And so, with a little sleight of hand I had them in my pocket before anyone was the wiser. I wore simple threadbare clothes. Just shorts and a sleeveless coat. It left me plenty of space for thieving, and as an added bonus shielded me from the badland's cold.

"If there's nothing else, we should get out of here," Freya called. "These parts are crawling with more than just one type of vermin, and they get worse as the night progresses."

Lang agreed. "Quite right. All to me. Perhaps Bogart would like to show us the safest way home?"

I nodded. "Sure. Follow me, friendos." And I marched on.

Everyone I knew was dead. My whole tribe was decimated and would likely never recover. And you know what? I had five gold.

This was the best day of my life.