“I—uh—sorry for intruding, I am Elora,” she said as she twisted her fairly dirty apron in her hands.

  “Tell them why you’re here, girl.” Cassandra's sharp eyes and thin face made the half-elf hesitate.

  “Its my father—he’s missing.”

  Damian’s posture straightened.

  “Missing how?”

  “He’s an enchanter. A week ago, he was downstairs in the workshop at night…” her voice trembled. “...and in the morning he was gone.”

  “And you went to the guards?” Cassandra asked.

  “Yes I did, and they brushed me off,” she said, nodding angrily all the while.

  “What else?”

  “They kept asking if I was sure he was missing.”

  “Yah, that sounds like guards,” Darrow said, frowning and leaning back against the wall.

  “I went to the adventurers guild too,” she said.

  “And?” Darrow asked, and he sounded concerned.

  “They said I didn't have enough gold to put up a bounty to look for my father,” she sniffed.

  “How much?” Cassandra asked, and from the side of his eye, Damian could see her jaw clench.

  Elora opened the pouch. She held it in front of them, and Damian could see a few gold coins glinting inside.

  “Two hundred gold,” she said. “And it's not enough.”

  “Not bad,” Darrow whistled as he peeked inside.

  “For a missing person, that’s barely enough,” Cassandra said and looked back up at the girl. Even with her skills and the amount of work she would have to do, Cassandra felt that was not enough coin for her to take on this job.

  “Please. He's all I have,” the half-elf said, and her voice cracked as she sobbed.

  Damian glanced away uncomfortably. He knew Aunt Cassandra would turn her away. If it were him, he wouldn't.

  Cassandra sighed.

  “Two hundred gold won't cover it.”

  “Then I will find more,” Elora said, stepping forward and pushing her bag of coins forward in her hand, afraid that they would reject her offer. She needn't have been worried.

  “Your father is an enchanter. He should make more than this,” Cassandra said, looking at the young half-elven girl.

  “The bankers said that if I want more, I have to wait for a month as they send the request to one of the drake cities,” Elora said, trying to do her best to explain.

  “That will take days,” Damian groaned.

  “He’ll be dead by then,” Darrow said quietly, avoiding the look Elora turned his way.

  He hadn't been quiet enough, it turned out.

  “I can’t take the job, then,” Cassandra said and shook her head grimly.

  Elora’s face went pale, her face drained of all colour, and tears welled up in her eyes.

  “They told me you would be willing to help… please,” she sank to her knees and whispered.

  The brothers exchanged a look, then they looked at Cassandra. She hesitated, but they moved before she could stop them.

  Damian crouched beside Elora and rested a hand on her shoulder.

  “Its enough for us,” he said softly.

  Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “You two—”

  “Yap, we’ll take it,” Darrow interrupted.

  Elora’s head shot up.

  “Really?” she asked, her lips quivering.

  “Really,” Damian said.

  Cassandra crossed her arms, and from the looks of it, she had her reservations.

  “Are you sure? Because it's reckless.”

  “We are already targets, and doing something good can't hurt,” Damian said.

  Cassandra studied him for a moment, then she sighed. After a moment, she nodded. She had to let them try, and even if they failed, at least they would have learnt something.

  “Fine, but I’m not bailing you out this time.”

  “Wouldn't dream of it,” Darrow said.

  Elora sniffed, and in that moment, she would have teared up even more, but she swallowed her nerves, and a small smile grew on her face.

  “Thank you.”

  “Don't thank us yet,” Damian replied.

  “So where do we start?” Darrow said, getting to his feet and stretching as he tried to get his body limber.

  —

  The next day, they stood in a workshop next to the canals. Elora, the half-elf, had stayed at the office in fear that the people who took her father would come back.

  They did the normal checkups, and after looking around, they decided on the only place they suspected goblins would be.

  “The sewers again, really,” Darrow started, but Damian was not having it.

  “You heard what she said. She thinks goblins took her dad,” Damian said in a harsh tone.

  “Figures,” Darrow harrumphed.

  Elora started grabbing some of her things. She grabbed her satchel and started throwing in some of her enchanting tools. She had just thrown in an ink quill when Damian stood facing her.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I'm coming with you two.”

  “Auh. You’re not coming with us,” he said.

  “Yes I am,” Elora insisted and straightened her back as she tried to look taller.

  “You don't know where we are going.”

  “You are going to find my father, and I won't let you do it alone.”

  “It could be dangerous—” Damian started, but Darrow interrupted him.

  “She’s stubborn. You’ll lose the argument,” he said, tapping his brother sadly on the shoulder.

  Damian raised a finger. He looked between the two of them, then, lacking words, he sighed.

  “Great,” Darrow said and walked past him, starting to look around the empty enchanter’s shop.

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  When Damian turned back to Elora, she was glaring.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I am not useless,” she said.

  “We’ll see,” he shrugged.

  Now, Damian wasn't mean; he was just thinking ahead, and he knew she would slow them down. He groaned internally.

  When she was done, Elora took a deep breath. She straightened, tightened her belt, and nodded to the twins.

  “Let's go.”

  “Alright,” Damian said, and they stepped out of the building.

  The morning air hit them like cold iron, but really, they shouldn't have been surprised this close to the transport canals.

  They made their way into the dense parts of the city, and suddenly the smell of fresh air was gone, replaced by the smell of burning paper, mana oil, and charmer's dust.

  “Smells like home,” Darrow said as he took in a deep breath and let it out.

  He placed his hands behind him and walked like a man without a care in the world. Unfortunately, it wasn't the same for Elora.

  The half-elf wrinkled her nose and looked green as she wondered about the manner of people who would live like this.

  “How do you stand this?”

  “We grew up here. And you learn what smells to ignore,” Damian said as he turned a corner.

  They came to a stop when they reached a manhole near the old docks in the isolated sub-district, and Damian lifted the cover with a grunt.

  “After you,” Darrow said as the cover fell to the side.

  Damian just rolled his eyes. he grabbed his sword from his waist and looped it across his back. He went in first, leading the way.

  Elora‘s face went green for a moment, and she took a big gasp of air, then she climbed down following Damian.

  The ladder creaked as Darrow followed from behind. It may have been the weight of the trio as Darrow shifted and pulled the cover to the street hole closed.

  They reached and touched the bottom. There, the tunnel seemed to glow a faint green. In fact, other than that, the only light source was the slit Darrow had left up between the manhole cover.

  The water dripped steadily in the distance, and the air was thick with moisture and faint mana residues that seeped into the ground from the city above.

  “You really want to meet those goblins again?” Darrow asked.

  “No, but we need answers,” he replied.

  “And any clues about my father,” Elora added softly.

  “Let's hope the goblins know something then, and he isn't dead already,” Darrow muttered, a sombre look on his face.

  “Not funny,” she said.

  “He wasn't joking,” Damian said.

  They kept walking, and since they knew the way this time, the only sound the three made was that of their boots splashing softly in the wet tunnels.

  It wasn't long until they reached the rune-covered tunnel, and the sound of the city faded above them.

  Ahead and below, light from torches flickered as they neared the goblin hideout.

  The goblin sentries spotted them first, and this time, unlike before, the short creatures were awake and on guard.

  They jabbered and pointed at Damian and Darrow.

  “It’s the twins again,” one of them pointed.

  “And new meat!” the other cackled and pointed at Elora.

  Elora shrieked, her hand tightened on her satchel, her cheeks went red, and she moved closer to the two brothers.

  “Don’t stare, okey,” Damian murmured.

  They walked through the camp slowly, and Elora's eyes widened as she watched goblins pause their trading and brawling to watch them pass.

  There was a smell of ash and hot iron in the air, and Elora looked horrified at the filth and upturned bins the goblins were using as a heating stove to stay warm as they sat around.

  She watched some other goblins throwing fists, much to the entertainment of a crowd of cloaked figures.

  “Lets hope they have seen him around here,” Darrow said, leaning back and speaking to her.

  They came to a stop suddenly, and Elora had to stop herself from rushing headfirst into Damian’s back. She looked around them, and she froze.

  Those were hobgoblins, the kind you found in the darkest alleys, killing and abusing unfortunate women. She wanted to step back—scratch that, she wanted to run.

  Damian and Darrow came to a stop in front of the large tent.

  They waited, and the hobgoblin, the one in a vest coat, only unfolded his arms and let them in.

  “Here goes nothing,” Darrow exhaled. He looked at his brother, and they both stepped inside.

  Grimjaw looked as they had seen him the last time. He was seated on a throne-like chair made of scrap metal and other materials the goblins found in the sewer tunnels.

  His yellow eyes narrowed at them, and he seemed to sniff the air.

  “You again,” he snarled, then seemed to sniff the air one more time.

  “We need to talk,” Damian nodded as they came to a stop in front of his large desk.

  “You bring trouble,” he rumbled.

  “We bring questions, more like it,” Darrow said.

  “We just want some answers about a missing man,” Damian said, then he frowned.

  Grimjaw’s face twisted.

  “Get. Out!” the hob goblin said in a low, menacing voice, and Damian raised an eyebrow. He exchanged a look with Darrow, who just shook his head. They weren't leaving without any information.

  “We’re not leaving. We just need answers,” Damian said firmly, yet there wasn't as much resolve in his tone.

  Grimjaw stood suddenly. He roared, and he leapt at them, and his right fist took Darrow, and his left went for Damian.

  The force of the blows sent them both tumbling backwards and into the compound of the small camp outpost, which caused the goblins to scatter out of the way.

  “I think you offended him, Damian,” Darrow said after rolling to his feet and stretching his back.

  But Damian wasn’t having it. He wasn’t falling for Darrow’s jokes on the hobgoblin’s temper.

  He got up to his feet, and his glare was fixed on Grimjaw.

  “You want a fight,” he spat to the side, “I will give you a fight.”

  He didn’t know why the large goblin had attacked, but Damian gave the man a bow as he activated his skill, [Salute the Foe].

  The goblin was unimpressed, however, and his face twisted further into a rage. Was the small human mocking him? No, he doubted it. After all, he felt the skill activate on him as a target.

  Damian's body flared with energy, and he felt his strength increase.

  “We are not running, are we?” Darrow asked, then used an ability. “[Skill Imprint],” he muttered, and the strength filled his body. He would have to wait another hour before using the skill again.

  “Murderers!” Grimjaw bellowed.

  The camp erupted, and the goblins pulled their weapons out. They pointed them at the brothers and started moving forward.

  “Stop!” Grimjaw raised his hand sharply, and the goblins froze, looking at each other, then at the hobgoblin.

  They lowered their weapons and stepped back.

  There was a silence instantly in the camp as they all looked on.

  Grimjaw’s hand went to his cleaver, and the mockery left Darrow’s face.

  His eyes widened as the hobgoblin leapt at him.

  The cleaver flashed at him, and he rolled to the side, his face caught in the picture of shock.

  Grimjaw swung to the side, and Damian drew his sword from his waist and blocked all in one motion. Sparks flew, and he cursed.

  “You smell like death,” Grimjaw growled an inch away from Damian's face.

  Darrow swung his fist, and Grimjaw rolled to the side, creating space to use his leaping skill again.

  “You smell like dead goblins,” Grimjaw repeated.

  “What are you talking about? We didn’t kill any goblins,” Damian said and rushed forward.

  Grimjaw blocked the first blow, then he punched, and Damian went stumbling back. The hobgoblin turned and blocked Darrow's fist. Grimjaw grabbed Darrow's cloak, then he tugged and threw him at a recovering Damian.

  "you killed goblins then came to goblin camp. stupid humans."

  "what are you talking about?" Darrow said as Damian helped him up.

  The last time they had come across any sort of goblins, the corrupted bastards tried to kill them. His eyes widened in a second of realisation, and he tried to stop the hobgoblin, but he didn't get the time.

  Darrow pushed him to the side, and Grimjaw landed where he had been a second ago.

  “Revenants—it was the revenants that attacked us.”

  "Lies!!" the hobgoblin swung his cleaver, and Damian deflected it.

  "I'm telling you the truth," Damian said, but the hobgoblin just swung again.

  "They are alive, we saw them." Darrow tried, and for the first time, the goblin turned to him and paused.

  Grimjaw didn’t move to block. His cleaver remained low, and Damian's sword stopped an inch from his chest.

  Grimjaw looked at Darrow.

  “Revenants,” he repeated.

  “Yes, corrupted goblins,” Damian said.

  “But we didn’t kill them,” Darrow added.

  Grimjaw’s eyes darkened.

  “Impossible,” he said and then hesitated, looking at the two.

  “It’s the truth,” Damian said, hesitating but lowering his sword.

  “Explain. We do it inside,” Grimjaw said, then he looked around.

  There was a moment of silence, then the camp had stirred, and now that the boss was a bit calmer. They were very keen on understanding and hearing what the three were talking about. After all, they had just been fighting a moment ago.

  “You, clean this up,” Grimjaw pointed at Cleansoks, his goblin assistant.

  The twins escorted him inside, and it took minutes before the brothers finished explaining the encounter with goblins. Grimjaw just stared, clearly puzzled.

  His mind was reflected on his face as he thought. Finally, he spoke.

  “We lost scouts… many scouts,” he said and hesitated.

  Elora stepped forward, and she was as nervous as could be.

  “Maybe they are connected to my father.”

  Grimjaw glared.

  “Who is she.”

  “A client,” they both said together.

  Grimjaw looked at the two, then back down at the girl, then he let out a grunt.

  “I dont no of any elf being kidnapped. Not in my tunnels. If it was goblins, they weren’t mine,” he said, then turned to the boys.

  “So you don't know who took her father.”

  “No.”

  “How about the goblins who attacked us?”

  The hobgoblin’s face grew sombre.

  “Someone is using goblin revenants to do their dirty work up on streets,” Darrow said.

  “Yes,” Grimjaw said, his eyes darting around his table as he thought.

  “The goblins hard to come from somewhere.”

  “Yes,” he said again.

  Goblins disappearing wasn't new in the tunnels. Most of the time, they would be put up in underground fights or used as training dummies for some noble pricks, but this—this was different, and Grimjaw felt it in his bones.

  Damian looked up at the silent hobgoblin. He was clearly thinking.

  What bothered him more was the thought that it could all be connected.

  They were grabbing goblins, turning them, and letting them loose on their enemies.

  Grimjaw spoke, and Damian looked up.

  “If revenants walk my tunnels, we hunt,” he said, getting up.

  “Then we’ll help you,” Damian said, turning to Darrow, who nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Because we need answers. Whoever is doing this affects both our people,” Damian said.

  The hobgoblin paused, then nodded slowly.

  They followed him outside. The goblin in a clean cotton vest coat, grey shirt, and white socks was busy instructing others on the clean-up.

  “Wait,” Grimjaw said, raising his hand and stopping.

  He turned to some of the goblins and shouted in goblin tongue.

  Some goblins stopped what they were doing and grabbed clubs, pipes, and other improvised weapons, then went into the tunnels.

  The chosen scouts scattered into the tunnels, and Damian was left puzzled.

  That didn't last, because the hobgoblin turned to them.

  “Scouts will go and find anything wrong,” he said, then turned and headed back into his tent.

  “See, he can be friendly,” Darrow said.

  “Understanding is more like it,” Damian challenged.

  “You—you two are insane,” Elora said, looking at them and exhaling shakily.