The Mimic Becomes a Merchant King

In the aftermath of the Glain massacre, Illyana and the other surviving adventurers had returned to Wheat Valley. They had thoroughly checked the remains of the town before leaving, and found no survivors in the village, nor any other goblins beyond a few corpses from the original raid on the town.

But one worrying thing had come up during their search: Colossal footprints, larger even than the hoofprints of the dire boars. Ogres had partaken in the raid, and Illyana couldn't fathom why. Traditionally, ogres and goblins gave each other a wide berth. Too much trouble for either side to kill. Yet they had apparently united to raze a random town.

The more Illyana thought of it, the more concerned she became. In the days that followed, sleep was a fleeting and illusive thing for her.

After recovering from her injuries, which happened swiftly given her constitution, she had been summoned to give a detailed report to the head of Wheat Valley's guild hall. Any incident that resulted in the destruction of a town, and the deaths of several adventurers, naturally warranted a great deal of scrutiny.

Illyana, dressed in a scarlet poet shirt, dark trousers, and riding boots, ventured through the two massive rosewood doors at the hall's entrance. Her armour, after all, needed to have a few dents and cuts mended and so she needed a change of wardrobe to look presentable.

The vast marble foyer was, as ever, a hive of activity. Young rookies were cloistered around a bounty board, alternating between discussing the jobs on offer and gossip they had picked up from other adventurers. A few merchants from the Venture Company were busy bringing in boxes of provisions. To the other side of the room, by the reception desk, one adventurer was trying to haggle with the clerk about payment.

Said clerk, a stone-faced elven man with a shaved head, was unmoved. Clerks, accountants, and lawyers, much like gravity and the elements, could only be negotiated with through the use of powerful magic. Illyana met the older elf's eyes as they passed. His face betrayed nothing, but she could see the scrutiny in his eyes.

Word had already spread like wildfire about the Glain incident, that much was obvious with how hushed the gossip became whenever Illyana passed another adventurer. But gossip, as ever, warped the truth considerably. Already she'd heard all sorts of tall tales and rumours swirling around herself and the others who had survived the incident.

The most extravagant tale Illyana had overheard was that a dragon had caused the destruction of Glain, after waking from hibernation in the northern reaches of Thallborea. If a dragon emerged from hibernation, news would have spread far and wide across the entirety of Arcadia in the span of days. And, frankly, it would have to be a very unimaginative dragon if the best they could think to do was raid some backwater town.

The less savoury tale was that the story of 'smart goblins' was a fabrication, and that the adventurers at Glain had been hired by a gang of rogues to torch the town. It was perhaps slightly more believable than the truth, Illyana was still grappling with the words that dying goblin had spat at her, but to have people speculate on her in that way made her blood boil.

She pressed on, ignoring the side-eyes and hushed murmuring, and made for the second floor of the hall. A large office sat only a modest distance from the crest of the stairs, the door ajar. Illyana pressed inside, and was greeted by a thick smell of tobacco smoke.

Karse Freide, the head of Wheat Valley's guild hall, say behind the expansive surface of his desk. Smoke hissed from his pipe in thick black coils as he shifted it from one corner of his mouth to the other. He was a large man, partially taller than Illyana, with hairy and muscular arms. He had, at one point, been a warrior of considerable talent from the harshest mountain clans of Eldergard. The hair atop his head had grown thin, but his jaw was shrouded in a coarse, black beard.

It was hard to believe he was actually younger than Illyana.

He fished his pipe from his mouth with one hand, the other brushing a few stray leaves from his jerkin. "Illyana. Good to see you're still in one piece."

"Only barely," she said, flashing a wan smile. She closed the door behind her and took a seat across from the shaggy man.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "Already spoke to the others to get their account of things. The stories are near-identical, so I'm inclined to believe they're being truthful. As insane as the whole thing sounds to me. Goblins wearing proper armour, using cannons? I would've have thought someone was trying to pull the wool over my eyes if we hadn't lost good people to that whole ordeal."

"I was there, and I still don't believe it." Illyana leaned forward and recounted the details to the best of her abilities. Karse sat comfortably to watch her, silently puffing in his pipe and only occasionally asking her for more information. By the time she was finished, without even realising it, the elf's posture had grown rigid with her fingers digging into her knees.

Karse reclined, his eyes darting to the ceiling. "Sentinel's mercy," he muttered.

"So what are we to do now?" Illyana asked, frowning. "We... we need to get word to the capital. I don't know what's going on but it's clearly something major. What if an attack comes to Wheat Valley?"

"Ideally, we'll fare better than Glain did. We're larger, our local militia is bigger and better equipped, and we have our own artillery. To say nothing about our own guild members, and Scylla is essentially a one woman army," Karse explained. "If the goblins and their ilk come our way for a fight, then they'll get more than they bargained for."

Illyana frowned. Only a few days ago the idea of goblins posing a threat to the town would have seemed absurd to her. Now she couldn't take anything for granted.

"If the archchancellor hears about this, then the whole countryside is likely to be rife with soldiers. You know what he's like, certainly wouldn't abide goblins wiping out a town."

Karse fell silent as he watched the elf, his brow furrowing. "If he even believes what he's told."

"Why... wouldn't they?" Illyana warily asked.

The hulking man reclined in his chair, the wood creaking in protest. "I've dispatched a few messages to nearby guild halls. The responses I've gotten have been... incredulous at best. They don't believe me. Frankly I wouldn't believe it either, if I wasn't the man who had to deal with crying old mums who just had to bury their children on my watch."

"An entire town was wiped off the map!" Illyana balked. "They can go down there and see the burned bodies for themselves if they don't bloody believe it!"

Karse sighed. "They believe Glain was destroyed, but they don't believe the goblins acted independently," he said. "My counterparts are saying the goblins must have been armed and commanded by some group of brigands. Which has, admittedly, happened in the past."

"Bandits have bribed goblins with alcohol and weapons, yes, but nothing of this... scale. Certainly not like anything I've ever heard of," the blonde hastily replied.

"I believe you. Truly, I do. Unfortunately my counterparts are less inclined to do so, and I imagine things will be the same if word reaches Sentinel."

Illyana set her jaw tight. Would people really turn a blind eye to all of this? What if another town was attacked?

All sapient species, regardless of their differences, were united by one common cultural feature: The ability to ignore and downplay a problem until the problem had grown so large that it could grab them by the collar and pull them down to eye level.

"I have a few people out scouting the wilderness, seeing if they can find any hint of a large gathering of goblins. Whatever the source of this is, ideally we can put it down quickly. But you shouldn't expect the Obelisk to personally send people to deal with it."

Illyana fell silent. Somehow she doubted Karse's people would be able to handle things, and the presence of cannons and ogres gave her the distinct impression they were dealing with an enemy that had considerable numbers and resources at their disposal.

"I see," she tersely replied.

"You will be compensated for the time spent in Glain. And your rank will be increased to reflect your victories."

It didn't feel like much of a victor. Illyana rose to her feet, offering him a small nod. "Thank you, Karse," she said, resisting the frustration bubbling through her. "If you don't mind, it will be some time before I take another contract."

"Understandable," the bearded man replied. "Take care of yourself in the meantime, yeah? Feels like Glain won't be the last of our troubles. Dark clouds on the horizon."

Illyana was damn sure it wouldn't be. Those goblins waiting in the town had likely been a fraction of the force that demolished it, relishing in their victory. The image of that flag flashed in her mind as she left Karse's office, a flag that the goblins had seemingly rallied around.

This wasn't just an act of random banditry.

But Karse, ultimately, was small time. She could not fault him for not being able to do much, but that didn't mean she had to be bone idle about all this.

She found Varis only a few paces from the office door, lazily picking his fingernails with the tip of a dagger. A bandage was woven around his arm. As sly and swift as he was, he had not gotten through the fight unscathed. "Ah, my favourite pointy-eared warrior," he said, grinning and flashing his yellowed teeth.

"The offer to break your nose still stands," she replied.

"Ha. I don't doubt it," Varis said, sheathing his blade. "Take it you had to tell your side of the story too?"

"Told him everything I could remember. Don't think it's gonna amount to anything though," Illyana said, venturing to the staircase. Varis followed after her.

"Got a bee in your bonnet, eh?" He chuckled, settling his hands on his hips. "I get the feeling you're not going to leave things as they are. But surely you don't plan on doing some gobbo hunting. You're good, you proved that much to me, but I doubt you can wipe out every goblin in the Arcadian countryside."

"I don't plan on doing that. But I intend to go straight to the archchancellor and tell him about what we've seen with my own two eyes. All the way to Sentinel itself."