"Damrow. Fireteam Alpha is going to Damrow", announced Demit. The suggestion was rubbished by the other three instantly. Based on what they learned before training, the best 2 places to start were south of Alterna and Damrow to the west of Alterna.

"You goddamn pussies. Didn't we clear the forest yesterday?"

"We killed 8. We don't know how deep that forest is and I'm sure more will crawl out of the depths. I say we hunt there regularly, maybe up to a week, till we know we're good at it", suggested Roland.

"8, or 9?". Jakson was squatting with his morning drink. He had bought a wineskin the previous day. There was another, which Roland hoped contained water. Ah, they would have to go shopping today. He needed a shave.

"Pretty sure it was 8, Sugar. Or was it 9?"

"It was more like 15. FUCKING. PUSSIES."

"How about we go deeper in without scouting the outskirts?", suggested Roland, gesturing to Jakson who would do the scouting.

"Logically, deeper in are more powerful Mud Goblins, and we get more fangs than coins". Jakson nodded to Roland's suggestion.

"He's right, Paprika. I was swinging wild yesterday. This hideous thing is too heavy", said Brewary. He wasn't comfortable with his sword at all. There were many different swords at the training racks to accommodate fighting styles of choice, Brewary explained. While they were all long and 2 handed, their blades were different widths and weights and curvature. The one issued at graduation was almost at the nub of its cutting edge, likely bought at bulk and at discount from the local market. Its blade was too wide, and centre of balance too different. With heartfelt apologies, he insisted his first purchase be another sword, not armour.

The earliest markets opened and they bought food for the journey, which they stuffed wherever would fit. West side's Tattan Bakery sold some kind of cheap bread that was likely the previous day's stock. Bags needed some bargain hunting and they didn't want to lose daylight. They agreed to hunt less and prioritise getting home and shopping for essentials.

With Jakson leading the way ahead, they cut into the forest deeper than the day before, taking care to make as little noise as possible.

Roland was right, Jakson confirmed when he gave one his soft hisses, alerting them to stop. There were better equipped Mud Goblins further in. Even better, these ones could be ambushed. Goblins 1-3 had sword and buckler. Goblin 4 had an axe. All wore thin metal caps. They were resting and facing a small lake around a small fire, with pit rats on spits roasting. To their relief, the ground wasn't muddy all the way, only where the water met the ground. A simple and brief plan was made.

Everyone silent enough crept into place. Brewary had double the distance to cover, as his chain mail stopped him from being really quiet and moving in to ambush. Roland could hear the strange language the creatures used. Luck really smiled on Fireteam Alpha that day as one made a joke and they laughed. It masked the sound of Roland's bow creaking. Goblin 2 was shot through the back. The laughter died abruptly as the other goblins processed what happened. Please, please, please, thought Roland as he nocked another arrow and drew. At the same time, Jakson and Demit came out of their hiding places. Goblin 1 moved out of the way on time to grab its weapon and Roland's arrow zipped pass it. Screeching, other Goblins grabbed weapons, raised shields and ignored Goblin 2 clawing at its back, bleeding to death.

Goblin 1's buckler deflected Roland's second shot against it, buying time for Demit's staff to hammer its legs. It fell over and raised its shield to block Demit's staff. Demit pinned it in place with repeated hammering. Goblin 3 turned to help and tripped over an arrow sticking out of the ground. Roland cursed himself over his lack of skill at not being able to hit moving targets. Brewary arrived and it scrambled up quick enough to sidestep his overhead slash. Goblin 4 was using its longer axe handle to keep Jakson away with swipes. Resting his bow against a tree, Roland hefted his axe and headed for Demit. The goblin screeched in panic as it prioritized blocking Roland's Chop, aimed for its shoulder blades. Its small arms were forced down to its chest due to the heavy swing. Demit eventually managed to knock away its shield, and the 2 ganged up and killed Goblin 1. Demit turned to Goblin 3, making the priest hexagram for Goblin 1 and the bled out Goblin 2 as she walked, Roland in tow.

Goblin 3 was handling Brewary, although it too lost its shield as it was dumb enough to block the swing from his heavy 2-handed sword. It had managed to wound Brewary's thigh as well. There was quite deep cut. The chain mail only protected Brewary to the hips. He needs something for the legs and head before anything else, but he'd rather have a new sword. Better leave him to it, thought Roland. Once Demit came in with her jabbing, Brewary brought Goblin 3 down, but not before some desperate charge that caught Demit at the side.

Outnumbered, Goblin 4 wanted to run when it realised its friends had died. Its mistake was turning to look, when Jakson's dagger caught it in the neck. With a wild swing that nicked Jakson's arm, it fled, bleeding heavily. Jakson followed it into the woods.

He returned with only the pouch string as Demit healed Brewary, having healed herself first.

"Need a medic, Broski?". Jakson shook his head. The wound smarted but the bleeding had stopped.

"Take a Cure anyway, soldier. I got a few more seconds and we're heading home". She used Cure on Jakson. Was that an apology from her for yesterday? The total tally was 4 silver coins with holes and 4 fangs. It cheered everyone. They were excited to do some shopping so they ate on the walk home.

Back in Alterna, they hunted for goods. Bags were in dire need, so they bought used ones. Jakson's was largest, a serviceable, very patched leather bag. It was chosen for its size and an adjustable strap that could move it to the front like a large pouch or to the small of his back. Spare undergarments and shirts were also bought. Everyone needed a razor and the many grooming things like combs, brushes, polished bronze mirrors, sweet smelling oils and some kind of pomade for Brewary's hair. Skins to hold water were also bought. Gear wasn't cheap. Hell, the whole bloody town isn't cheap, thought Roland. Back to the forest again tomorrow.

Last stop was Yorozu Deposit Company before an early dinner. The shopping took off most of their silver, leaving a sizeable amount in coppers which weighed down their pouches. As Brewary received extra to save up for arming, he needed to store coins. They took their turn in line at the lobby. The Fourth Yorozu looked at Jakson approaching.

"Krestovozdvizhensky", said Yorozu with all grace, every syllable in the right place.

"What business do you have with the Company today, and do you come with more lies?"

They tried Sherry's but it was uncomfortably full due to its popularity, so they found another called Ruai, which was quieter and had more town locals than Volunteer Soldiers. It served some kind of a grain wine that three of them found delicious, except for Jakson who wanted something stiffer. The tavern did distill the same grain they used for the wine and Jakson took to it immediately despite it costing double. Boar in soy sauce was served with some kind of pounded leafy vegetable. Morale was high.

"You guys wanna see something fucked up?", asked Demit. She raised her robe top and underneath was a black sports bra, the same brand as Jakson's clothing. It too was black and had 3 white lines at the side. Jackson and Demit laughed loudly. It was time to go before drunkenness set in for good and they got robbed blind at some alley.

It was before sunset that they settled in for an early night. At sunset they heard the party that came in the night before. From the sounds, they heard 4 males. One was obnoxiously loud and had a voice that grated on a person's patience. They had a good day too. Ranta-sama, it called itself. The moron was broadcasting its name as it took credit for a heroic kill of a mud goblin, saving the party from certain doom.

"That motherfucker better shut the fuck up right now. We killed like …a dozen… of the fuckers in 2 days."

"Maybe I should get over and see if I can tame that puppy", said Brewary. He moved to rise but fell back again with a grunt. The grain wine was good.

"Or not", he ended.

"I go see", said Jakson. He came back looking annoyed.

"They have Thief in party". He had peeked through their keyhole.

This Ranta kept talking for awhile before another voice threatened to make him spend the night in the toilets. Things quietened down. Later, a door opened and they left, presumably for a drink.

"Why does Yume hear Ranta's voice!?". There were some confused noises, mostly from this Ranta. Girls screamed and Yume started yelling in anger. Heavy footsteps of people making hasty retreat sounded along the floorboards and a door slammed shut.

"MOTHER. FUCKER. That's it. We're earning silvers anyway so tomorrow we're sleeping somewhere else". Everyone agreed. Yume. Wasn't that the Hunter who couldn't shoot straight? Roland remembered the orange hair and twin braids and that endearing personality. Something stirred inside him. From the time he woke up till his first battle in the forest, life seemed like survival. Maybe that was why Demit still shared rooms with the guys. Now that he's fed, lying reasonably comfortably in a straw bunk, he allowed himself to just feel something other than his hate for the red moon and the pains of daily combat.

Seriously. Red?