Reunions

Her eyes focused on the waning sky, the twilight sun in the sky turning the sea of blue ever redder.

Although she followed her herd of cows, she turned to not be looking at the setting sun.

She can't recall if she had always done it.

Probably. She loved the night sky and all its splendor, but never the setting sun.

Growing up, it was because she didn't want to go home. She had nothing against her parents, God's rest their souls, but it meant that she'd have to part ways with him, and go home. For some reason it upset her every time… but now?

The reason had changed over time, hadn't it? She wasn't that naïve to believe its reason hadn't changed, but there was something else to it wasn't there?

I guess this isn't the time to be thinking about it.

She looked to the cows which were content where they were, but it was her duty to shepherd them back to the safety of the barn. Long hair waving with the wind, it covered the entirety of her face, nearly blinding her. She found it a bit annoying to deal with, but it was a decision she had made long ago to grow it out.

"Come on," She grumbled as she swiped hair out of her way. Soon jogging towards the greatest collections of cows, she called to them. "Come on, cows!"

She looked up to see the long shadows of peoples of all shapes and sizes, of all backgrounds and trades passing the road along with the farm's outermost fence. Their shadows reached far behind them distance, five or six times their actual height perhaps.

All peoples, merchants with garments of better quality, travelers and pilgrims with the soles of their footwear nearly gone, and adventurers of all walks of life.

Yes, adventurers with nothing to their name but the clothes on their back and some with weapons and armors worth more than the land she lived on. Some looked like brutes with bulging muscles whilst others looked more refined with a staff in hand and a book at their sides.

And walking within them, a familiar-looking one.

Squinting, she could see the familiar helmet shining in the distance, covered head to toe in armor, heavily armed and now with a shield. The textbook definition of an adventurer if she had ever seen one.

That was well and good, but it looked like he has not had the time to even sit down once, armor covered in grime. His shield was also in two pieces, being tied to his back rather than his on arm. and people kept a healthy distance from him. From what she could assume, he probably stank as well.

From the way he walked, he did not seem like a bad apple, just another kid trying to make his way through an increasingly cruel world. After all, no child could learn to stand without falling once or twice.

However, that did not stop people from giving him one of two glances: pity or mockery.

Cow Girl felt the former, feeling sorry for whatever missteps have left in such an unfortunate state.

She felt a frown form on her face.

As he got closer, she could see that his pace was uneven, a gait which one could easily mistake for the undead. One of his arms hung semi-limply, and he was trudging along as if he hadn't slept in days. It was painful just to look at him.

Is he okay?

This was just another stranger, she should simply count whatever blessings she currently has and move on with her day, but… since she had that short interaction with him days prior, she couldn't shake the strange feeling within her mind.

She contemplated some she wished to ask him…

Stop that. She shook her head. He was gone, she had seen the aftermath from a distance those years back. She saw the coffins, put in the ground for the fallen, goblins left nothing but bones from what she was told.

Her question would be all for naught, for there was no way what she would ask was possible right?

As he drew closer, the urge grew even stronger.

Maybe…

He was right beside her, a fence between them and on the passing. She could feel her heart beginning to race, the choices in her mind racing a thousand miles a minute. He was right here, available to be asked just a single question.

If…

He was past her now. If she wanted to ask him anything, her window to do so was quickly coming to a close.

If he had survived…

No… she needed to ask him that question.

She dropped her shepherd's crook and began to move. Jumping the fence, she followed the shine on his helmet, pursuing him. His helmet reflecting the sun so clearly despite its filth,

I'm sure he would have become an adventurer!

"H-hey!" She attempted to shout, her words coming out meeker than she wished it to. "Wait!"

He had made good distance despite being shambling his way through crowds of adventurers and other peoples, and she was pushing herself to catch up to him. She was almost certain that she had not run this much since those long-gone carefree days.

"I said wait!" Finding her voice, she could see his helmet tilt slightly upwards.

And then he stopped as if he finally realized that someone was giving chase.

The rose-haired woman reached for him, her hand grabbing onto his shoulder, and for a moment, she feared he'd disappear with a poof. But once she made contact, she felt the cold and grimed-up metal beneath her fingers, and that's when she knew that this was a real person, not some delusion made up by her mind.

She removed her hand as he slowly turned to her, finding his figure somewhat intimidating. His helmet slowly turned down to look directly at her. It didn't help that despite being no more than being a breath's distance away, she couldn't even make out a single facial feature.

She was tempted to shy away, but this was, is her only chance for answers.

Resting her hand close to her chest, she steeled herself and looked up to where his eyes should be.

"Er, um…"

Closing her eyes and swallowing hard, she figured that it would be easy. If it was him what could she say?

After what felt like hours of silence between herself and this stranger, she spoke, ever uncertain of her words.

"Hey, you… you remember me… don't you?"

What if it wasn't him? What if this was a complete stranger? What if she bothered someone for a stupid childhood suspicion? Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before.

It was too late for doubts. If she was wrong, sure she'd feel stupid and ridiculous for stopping some random stranger on a childhood hunch.

He stood there, certain that his stare had not relented.

She bit her lip hard, almost certain that she'd draw blood if she bit any harder.

If trying to find the words to say felt like hours, this newfound silence between them was the entire season.

"…" She swore she'd heard an exhale echo within that helmet, and only then his helmet inclined ever so slightly. After a moment, in a terribly quiet and cold voice, he whispered. "…I do."

"R-really?" Her eyes widened, almost letting her excitement and desire for a fragment of the past to be here today overwhelm her better judgment.

She needed to be sure that this was him, and so she asked him.

"If it's really you…" She began, her voice quivering with each word. "What was your favorite food?"

It was a stupid question, but at the same time, ingenious.

Stupid, because there was always a chance that a stranger could have the same favorite food. It was not expensive, nor was it uncommon in any town. Certainly, many people have eaten what he loved at least once in their lives, and certainly, many of them would have considered it their favorite meal.

However, it was ingenious in its own way. She remembered him gush non-stop about it. Whenever it was his birthday or holiday, it was a staple meal of those days. Whenever he felt unwell, it was ready at his bedside (and subsequently hers when she'd get sick shortly afterward). Whenever he was sad, it cheered him right back up.

She even learned most of it from his sister directly, however she had always got the feeling that she wouldn't budge on the final ingredients. If there was anything to prove that this was the same boy all those years ago, it would be that.

"My favorite food…" He quietly spoke, his helmet tilting back upwards, looking towards the sky. "… is stew…"

While correct, she was still uncertain, she opened her mouth to speak once more, but he continued, voice strained as his cold and quiet tone took a warmer take as he reminisced.

"…chicken and milk always… potatoes and carrots oftentimes…" He wearily told her. "… beef was added on holidays and new year's… even am—"

He paused before he could say the last ingredient as if he were to be punished right now for revealing it.

Like a kid who'd be admonished by their elder sibling.

Like him, after he'd do something his sister wouldn't want him to do.

But it did not matter why he did not continue. The details were too specific, only something he would know. Something they both remembered vividly.

The rose-haired girl could not properly identify the emotion that flared up within her heart. She knew it wasn't entirely joyful just as much as it was melancholic. All that she knew was that it tugged at her heart, and it caused tears to freely flow down her face.

She brought him in close, hugging tightly as she put her head up to his breastplate, caring nothing of the filth that covered him. She let the sobs freely leave her as she squeezed, hoping that this wasn't some dream that she was having.

"It… really is you…" She choked out.

"…"

Looking back up through her bleary eyes, she realized she was imposing herself onto him, and despite not being able to see his face, she could tell she was overwhelming him.

"So…" She broke the embrace, feeling very embarrassed now, she could not help but ramble out questions. "Where's your house? Where are you staying? What have you been? Did anyone else—"

She stopped herself before she could finish her last question.

Five years. Five years since they last spoke, five years since they have last seen each other, five years since she believed he was gone. What could she even say to him? Their paths had diverged so heavily, so what could she even talk about?

"Oh, um… are you okay?"

Then with the same volume before, he spoke.

"… I was slaying goblins."

"Oh…"

Her chest tightened as she found it hard to breathe as she vividly remembered the days following her final visit to her home.

Her uncle had walked into the room she had been staying and to deliver the bad news.

A week later, they returned to the area.

Empty coffins laid about with no bodies to bury. Black clothes of peoples she never even knew existed to pay their respects to the dead. Priests praying for the lost, never to be recovered. A downpour of rain, allowing for scents unwashed to become rancid once more.

She had learned later that even the levy raised from the village being wiped out in the final days of the war against the Demon Lords Remnants.

Everyone she— no, everyone they had known dead in a moment's notice.

Looking back up, she noticed that the sky had gotten even darker and that he was still there, standing as if he had all the time in the world.

"Do you… Do you have a place to stay?"

A weary shake of his head answers her question.

"W-well don't go anywhere… okay?"

"…"

After waiting a couple of seconds for a response, she decided that to wait any longer would be inconsiderate for him. She began to run towards the house on the hill, but a few steps in she turned back around.

"If you're not there when I return, I'll never forgive you!"

Now she knew he wasn't going anywhere, she continued running, wiping off excess tears and grime with her sleeve.

… …

"Uncle!"

The owner of the farm nearly jumped out of his seat when the door of their home opened with such force. The day of work and toil had been completed, and he had just packed some tobacco in his pipe, to enjoy a moment to relax.

But something was off about her, she was all out of sorts. This was a first.

"The boy—"

"There there, calm down. Are you alright? Did something happen to you?" He hastily put his pipe to his side and moved quickly to her.

This was his younger sister's daughter. It was unfortunate for her to have lived with so many burdens on her shoulders, having been the only survivor of her village. Her parents, his own sister, murdered by goblins, and the many other souls, Gods rest their souls, extinguished in a flash. The life and world she knew was destroyed in an instant, and things would never be the same.

That was five years ago.

The middle-aged man was under no illusions that he could replace her parents or anything she had lost, but he liked to think he was trying his best to care for her.

They lived in a spot that often got many passersby on their way to and fro the town nearby. Some of them were even adventurers: in most cases, the lower ranks were akin to the dregs of society, those that thought too highly of their skills for a respectable trade and flying by the seat of their pants.

Suddenly he felt a cold feeling grip within his mind. His niece comes crying here about some boy. It was the season where so many adventures migrated from their homes to the guild seeking fame, wealth… and women...

He wasn't a fighting man, but if someone had done something to his niece… there would be consequences.

"N-no, no it's nothing like that!"

She shook her head as if she sensed this trail of thought, trying to reassure him, her long hair flying all around. Words spewed out in a voice so cracked and broken like she was crying in word.

"That boy… from next door, he's alive…" She whispered out, before looking back up to him. "He's been alive all this time!"

"From next door?" His brow raised in confusion before he found his back straightening itself out in realization of what she meant. He was unsure whether to believe her, however, she was never one to lie.

"You mean from the village…" He sought clarification, "are you sure?"

"Yes!" The waterworks began again as tears spilled once more out of her eyes, vigorously nodding. "I-I I guess h-he's an-an adventurer now… and he's right… here at the fence!"

"An adventurer…" He felt his lips purse as he looked to the door, trying not to let his own personal view on the trade get the better of him. "And he's coming back from… work?"

"I think…" She wiped her face, her breathing more steady now. "I think so… yeah…"

Adventuring was a 'profession' with its fair share of rumors, over half of which could be seen as complete hogwash meant to bring in new blood. But the novices of the trade were said to take one of two types of jobs: Cleaning the sewers or…

"He was slaying goblins… wasn't he?"

"Yes."

The farm owner let out a deep groan. "Goblins. Of course."

Adventuring and Goblins… The man stroked the stubble on his chin. The world was cruel and life was rough, so if he managed to survive that after being orphaned… there was no other way to survive. But to be an adventurer and be involved with goblins?

"I want to… let him stay… but…"

Maybe you won't let him. He could see the unspoken words in her pink eyes.

He let out a sigh.

If he survived such an ordeal I can understand wanting revenge… at that age too…

He never knew his age, but if he was around her age, he must be thirteen, fourteen, maybe fifteen.

Nowhere near the age to properly cope.

Well if destroying a nest or two or three helps him process whatever he's feeling.

Surely he'd only do that right?

Then once he's leveled out, maybe I can offer him a proper place here if he's willing to learn a real and respectable trade?

Yeah, that sounded good. And besides, it was the first thing his niece had really asked of him.

Ever since she'd arrived, she'd always kept to herself, only making herself known at meals or whenever work was being done, but never opened up to him like this. If he was to deny her here… what kind of uncle would he be?

"…Fine." He let out a long deep breath, the age in his face truly showing when he smiled. "Tell him he may stay for tonight. For as many nights as he needs."

"You mean it?!"

Her face shined with a smile he hasn't seen since before the incident, her eyes glistening with tears.

"However," He raised a finger. "I will need him to pay rent. That will make sure he's at least somewhat invested in this place."

The owner of this farm did not forget caution. His niece seemed to trust this boy, but he had to be careful as the one charged to her care. It had been five years after all, who was one to say that he had not become just an adventurer but a ruffian too?

He could have the barn or sleep somewhere else on the land if he so desired until he could judge his character much better.

"If he can accept that much, we can discuss his arrangements over an evening meal."

"Right! That's perfect!" She rubbed her eyes with her hands. They were red and swollen, and she blinked to clear them. "Thank you!" She ran out of the house to wherever.

He walked up to a nearby window, and in the distance, he could see her running further away, but more importantly, he could see that the cows were not yet in.

Since she came in a rush… I suppose that makes sense. He exhaled, soon stretching.

He would have to bring them in, for he doubted her niece would leave that boy alone if he did reappear from supposed death.

If she was certain that this boy was someone from her village, who was he to doubt? He wasn't blood, but her friend, a bond is a bond.

As he put on his straw hat, he walked outside.

Maybe if we show him a quiet life, he'll welcome it in full.

… …

The young Mandalorian remained exactly where she directed him to stay.

He was unsure what compelled him to, after all, he had payment to collect.

Maybe it was because she had asked him to, or maybe it was because she seemed a lot happier than when he last saw her.

She did not seem this happy when he last saw her days prior.

Perhaps she had thought that she was the only survivor of the village they lost.

Perhaps she was glad to see that someone else survived.

Did I survive?

"Hey!" His head slowly tilted up as she drew near. "My… uncle…"

He simply raised a hand to stop her. From the way she moved and how out of breath she was, this must've been the first time in a long time since she did this much running.

She soon chose to lean on the fence right beside him.

"Whew!" She wiped away the sweat she had built up running back and forth. "My uncle says you can stay, but he wants to speak with you over food."

"…" He was unsure what to say, so he gave a quick nod.

"Well follow me, and I'll lead you to the house!" She moved forward and he soon trudged behind her.

As the two reached the front of it, she looked him up and down.

"You want to… uh… tidy up while we wait for my uncle to finish up?"

"… Sure."

"Let me fetch you a bucket then!" She quickly ran towards the water pump that was nearby, placing a wooden pail underneath its spout. Then the sounds of rigorously pumping could be heard as soon some water pumped out.

While she was doing that, he sat on a nearby bench and began undoing the boots he had worn that day.

Setting it beside the door, he moved back to his original spot, having been taught that it was polite to do so before entering a home as a guest.

"Here you go." She put the pail to the side before looking at him. "Oh right! A rag!"

She quickly ran inside and he could hear shuffling from within.

He first looked down at the pail and took off the leather gloves. With them off, he cupped water and splashed it onto his helmet, some of it actually spilling through into his helmet.

He shivered at the cool touch of the water but did not react once another splash of water touched his skin.

"Here's your rag." The door opened up and revealed to him was her.

Taking it from her hand, he dipped the rag into the water, squeezing it before rubbing it on certain parts of his armor where the blood had collected the most.

Making sure to get the worst bits of it, he then pulled out a cleaner rag from his pouch and dried off the areas recently wet.

Although he wasn't done yet, he'd decided that this was enough for the time being. He'd give it the proper maintenance before he went to sleep or before his venture back to the guild.

This is your beskar'gam… your iron skin. He reminded himself with his mentor's word. Treat it well, and it will in turn treat you will.

She took a seat next to him once she had noticed he was done for the time.

"S-so you're an adventurer now, armor and all!" She nervously spoke out, her eyes averting his gaze. "I shouldn't be surprised! You were always walking around saying you would!"

He looked up for a moment, the two moons high above. He supposed he did always insist that he would be an adventurer, but back then, he never really thought he would.

"There you are!" An older voice spoke out. Turning his head, he could see a brow raised from the older man. "And this here must be your neighbor from before?"

"He is." She nodded vigorously.

"…I am." He wearily stood up and gave him a slight bow.

"Well, I suppose it's a… pleasure to meet you." He put his hands together. "Well enough of this, we should eat, and we'll talk about your arrangements here."

The elder of the three opened the door, and he entered in right after her.

The door closing behind them, the head of the household walked over to what he could guess as their kitchen, and she walked past him.

"Come sit." She patted the bench right next to her. He put down his fur roll with all his spare gear tightly packed within when her uncle called from the other room.

"I wasn't planning on having a guest tonight, so apologies in advance for smaller servings." He put down a bowl of what he recognized as pottage, a stew of peas beans, and onions. "Here you two go."

As the man returned to the kitchen, he walked over to where he put down his gear. Unrolling his pelt carefully, he unrolled only a bit before he reached his rations. Then he pulled out a neatly packaged pouch.

Slowly moving towards the table, he unwrapped it. His rose-haired friend leaned close to see what it was, and to her, it must've looked like bread plain and simple.

He didn't say anything, but he offered a piece to her. When her uncle came to the table with a bowl less filled than theirs, he offered him a piece as well.

"Make sure to soak it before biting."

She took a piece, and her brows moved slightly up. "What is it?"

"Haarshun bread." He began to soak it within the broth of the pottage. "Its thin bread rolled up and hardened for travel."

"Now before we talk any business about your lodging, is it alright if you tell us how you survived?"

"My Founder saved me." He began bringing the Haarshun bread out of the broth.

"Your founder?" The voice of the young lady asked, inquisitively.

"Yes. Founder." It hadn't soaked enough so he put it back in. "Took me in as if I were her own."

"So you were adopted?" His old friends' eyes seemed to hold a bit of relief in them.

He simply nodded, looking down at his bowl.

"She forged my armor and raised me as a Mandalorian until I came of age."

"And now you're an adventurer… wait a 'Mandalorian'?" The uncle focused his eyes onto him. "Never heard of a 'Mandalorian' race?"

"It's not a 'traditional' race." He stated as he took the bread out of the stew once more. "Anyone who follows the Creed can become a Mandalorian."

"So, like an order of knights or something?" His friend added, eyes sparkling at the prospect of him being a knight.

Unsure how to respond, he focused on his meal. Seeing that it was now soft enough to bite, he began to eat the softened bread, however, it took him a moment to notice the stares he was getting from the two of them.

He could see the rose-haired girl next to him, her eyes wide with awe. Probably because he was managing to eat through the slit of his visor without dirtying the helmet itself.

But from her uncle, he could see judgment in his eyes, but it did not matter to him.

"You know…" Began her uncle his hand clasped under his chin. "You can always take off your helmet to eat."

"No." He disagreed, taking another bite. "By Creed, this is the Way."

"I see…" He coughed into his hand, deciding the drop the topic of the helmet. "Well let us talk about your accommodation."

"We have room to spare in the homestead here." Her friend told him, looking at him directly. "A comfy cot and a fair amount of room."

"Yes… we have that." The man agreed with a bit of hesitance. "We also have a spare barn we aren't using… it would have a lot more space than the room, and offers a fair bit of privacy, you should've passed by it on your way here."

His head tilted up, considering the options.

With the room here, he'd have easier access to facilities such as the kitchen or respond more quickly to any issues that arose.

However, the farther location from the homestead would allow him to easier store his gear and additional privacy when maintaining his armor when he needed to take off his helmet.

Plus, he wouldn't disturb them when returning from slaying goblins.

"I'll rent the barn." Finishing up his meal, he could feel his exhaustion catching up with him quickly.

"Alright then." The Uncle seemed pleased with his choice. "Since you're a friend of my niece here, I'll give you til month to get me the rent money."

"Thank you, for the housing for the meal." Thanking the man for his clear generosity, he got up, moving to pick up his rolled-up fur. "Goodnight."

Proceeding to the door, he walked out of the homestead and picked up the boots, not even bothering to put them on as he made his way to the unused farmhouse he had seen on his way over here.

Entering the barn, he first noticed the bareness of the area, but it was of no concern to him, taking a corner that looked most comfortable in his weary state, he rested his gear next to him and leaned up against the wall, slowly sliding down.

As the lids of his eyes grew heavier and heavier, he whispered in a hushed tone, barely more than mumbling.

And seconds later, he was out cold.

… …

"And these forms need to be filled out pronto!" The current guild head put down a small stack of forms. "Hurry now and you might get them done before the morning rush is here!"

"Yes ma'am!"

Pulling the quill out of the ink, she'd began to fill out the forms with diligence and with care, ensuring that everything was correct. After a good ten forms, she smiled as she looked at the rest of the stack.

She filled out the final form in that stack and put her quill down.

I think I'm starting to get the hang of it!

"And here are today's goblin requests!"

It seemed that the Gods would not give her solace from the administrative labors of this guild.

Surprised, she jolted up and looked at her boss.

"Get to work, they won't fill themselves out."

"… Yes ma'am."

Goblin slaying… She sighed, beginning her work once again.

These quests were requesting adventurers to go and kill whatever goblins were pestering them.

New Settlements, Pioneer Villages, Western Hamlets, Wilderness Outposts. These were the unofficial names for the usual towns that posted these goblin-slaying quests.

This town here was considered the 'last bastion' of civilization on this side of the world before entering uncharted and unmapped territories.

She could not help but internally flinch whenever she wrote down the rewards. In the minds of those paying, she had no doubt that they thought this was well enough, however in the eyes of adventurers of any actual experience, this was pocket change.

Towns founded farther than here were often taxed heavily because of the uncertainty they'd last a year. Those that passed that time limit often had taxes eased up ever so slightly.

In her experience, these would be the last quest to get picked out.

"And even more goblin-slaying quests today!" The junior receptionist groaned as she filled out the paperwork.

"Hush young one."

"So, what's got you down this time?" Her supervisor walked over to her, a platter with two cups in her hands. "Tea?"

"…Yes please."

Eagerly taking the tea, she took a sip, feeling slightly less overwhelmed.

"Its goblins again." She moped, putting her cup down. "At this rate, we'll never get through them all!"

"It is what it is, new adventurers will take them, and they will get done."

"A new adventurer recently took a goblin slaying, and he might've gone solo…"

Her superior stopped mid-sip of her tea before putting back on the platter.

"And you let him go alone?!"

Although she knew it wasn't her fault, she felt somewhat bad for not stopping him.

"Are you alright?"

His words echoed to her, remembering the sincerity in it. Resting her arms on the desk, she soon put her head down.

And here you are, getting all invested in them again… "I guess that was a mistake huh…" Her response was muffled.

"Not exactly a mistake, however… there is no way to know if he'll be alright."

"He sounded so sure of himself and…" She lifted her head up, looking at her supervisor. "I didn't know he was really going to solo it…"

Feeling her hand on her shoulder, her supervisor gave her an understanding smile.

"Well, just be careful next time."

"Right… of course." With effort, she weakly grinned.

"Can't go back and change what happened, so if you're gonna make this much of a fuss, just make extra sure!"

She simply nodded, taking in her words. How could she make extra sure if she was potentially sending someone to their doom?

"Well, look alive, we got an adventurer at twelve o'clock!"

Looking up, she could see a hulking adventurer in leather.

"Yo." The gruff voice spoke, his Ruby tag hung from his neck. "Got any trolls today?"

"I'm sorry, no requests have come in today." She explained, doing her best to wrestle in her feelings. Deciding to take a chance, she looked up at the adventurer. "Perhaps a goblin quest…?"

"Goblins?" The hulking adventurer was clearly unimpressed and looked somewhat insulted. "They pay zilch and offer no challenge. Let a Porcelain take care of it."

For the second there, she bit her lip. It was about the reaction she'd expected. It was not her place to force the matter, whether she could or should was not up for debate.

"My apologies sir…"

She bowed her head apologetically before a familiar voice spoke out.

"Goblins?"

She looked up and still there was the large adventurer, but he soon shuffled to the side to get a view of one who spoke.

"Speaking of, here's a porcelain." The Ruby-Ranked looked down at the shorter of the two, his eyes clearly focused on the strange. "Got some good gear there… wouldn't mind selling it?"

His helmet turned to the senior adventurer. "It's not for sale."

"You sure? I can give you quite a bit for it right here right now."

To emphasize, he pulled out what seemed to be a rather heavy pouch of coins.

"It's not for sale." He repeated his last statement, indicating that his response is final.

"Can't say I tried, get me two healing potions and two stamina potions." He shrugged, before turning back to the receptionist, taking a quest form recently filled by here. "This wizard on a 'Firetop Mountain?' Consider him dead by day's end."

Breaking out of her shock, she clumsily looked to the adventurer.

"Er, O.K.! I understand he's in an underground maze, so please be careful." The young woman took out the desired potions while she took care of the quest acceptance with a measure of urgency as she outlined the quest; its reward, outline what he might encounter, and if he was sure he wanted to take it.

Having becoming slightly more accustomed to the work, she let out a sigh of relief.

"If you ever change your mind, remember me." He had a smile on his face. "Good luck out there kid."

The adventurer in the strange helmet turned to see him go without much interest and turned back to the counter.

"Goblins?"

Observing every bit of this boy, she had no doubt that this indeed was the same individual who had taken that quest last time.

The junior receptionist shook her head to clear it. Looking back at the helmed adventurer she could see his once stiff shoulders taut.

"Are there no goblins?"

"No no, there are!" She quickly responded, a little smile coming across her face, his reaction somewhat amusing her. She cleared her throat before continuing. "However you took a quest a few days back no?"

"I did." He nods. "I slew goblins."

He answered as if this answer was more than enough.

"Well if that's the case, I will need a report to mark it down as complete!" She quickly pulled out a form designated as 'Quest Report', and after a moment of shuffling, she took out the quest form she signed off on a few days earlier.

"Is that so?"

"It is!" She puffed. He made her feel guilty about sending him off on such a dangerous task, so he should at least have the common courtesy to fill out the simple report. "So now, tell me what happened."

"I slew goblins."

She exhaled through her nose with frustration. He really isn't going to give me more is he? Looking up from her paper, she wondered if he answered so bluntly because he was a rookie.

"Please be a bit more descriptive with the report please?" She asked again, trying to catch a glimpse of his face between his visor. "If I don't do this correctly, I may get in trouble."

"… I slew twenty-five goblins… and rescued the captured woman."

That was better. She thought as she wrote down on the report. It would suffice, after all, if he really did solo an entire nest of goblins, he most certainly must be tired.

"Thank you." She put down her quill. Reaching from underneath her desk, she opened a drawer, and in it were a number of pouches. "Now that you've completed this quest, here is your reward."

Putting it on a tray, she presented it to him.

He simply took it and put it into his pouch without much care. "Now, you said you had goblins?"

"Y-yes." She was surprised how he did not even bat an eye at the coin. "A village not too far from here requested immediate action against goblins that have made camp near their homes."

She went on to explain everything that was needed to be known about the mission he was about to partake, such as the rewards and potential dangers like she had done before.

"I see. I will head out immediately."

Here is the next chapter! Primarily focused on the people around the young Goblin Slayer but there was still a segment for our intrepid hero.

I had finished this chapter some time ago, but with my attention between OK&G, making a proper story outline, and school, this came out later than it should've!

Regardless, answering of reviews;

B123: Hope that this reunion was what you hoped it to be! Giving him a gauntlet with a flame thrower rune was the most logical choice, and maybe later he'll get another rune during this story. And for goblins, they are crafty and fight dirty when compared to Mandalorians who fight and move out in the open.

Vanessa Masters: He did do better than in canon because he has a bit more common sense and a bit more to work with.

If you like the story and havent done so already, please favorite and follow, and if you so desire, leave a review!

Well since that is all, I hope you all have lovely days.

-Moonlight Talon of the Night