Bear the Goblin (special preview)

There is so much in this world to enjoy, I can’t understand why some people get so bogged down. Even during bad times, surely there is something you can look at and go ‘ah, that’s worth a smile’. Ever since I was little I was like this, not because I consider myself overly optimistic or anything. I seemed to be able to get excited about whatever.

My father was a highly sought out blacksmith, so our home was always filled with all sorts of adventurers, rouges, hunters, and whatever. They come to my father wanting all these amazing weapons or armor and I would just be in awe of them. As I got a little older, I would make them in awe of me. This led to me being kicked out of the house, but it was even a reason for me to get excited. I joined with a group of travelers, picked up an axe, and I went out into the world as one of those people I had been in awe of for so long. I didn’t surprise me at all I was good at it, what did surprise me was how much I loved it.

Traveling, fighting, hunting, doing whatever I wanted was great. I got to meet so many people and do so many amazing things. I would go home home occasionally, but my favorite place in the world to go was the Granmouth Pub. It had become more home to me than anywhere.

The owner, Moth, had become a good friend over the years and he had a room for me whenever I needed it. I suppose I could be a nuisance to him too, but we always kissed and made up eventually.

Strolling in one evening after a long journey, I noticed a large group in the back all huddled together. Approaching the bar, I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. They all looked fresh and new, excited but slightly scared.

“Don’t even think about it, Bear.” Moth growled at me.

“What?” I huffed back at him as I leaned over the bar.

Moth glared at me, his dark eyes bore into me. He knew me too well, and that was a problem. “Don’t ‘what’ me, you aggravating half-pint.” He thrust a stein of beer at me. Moth was a massive half-orc fella, and nicknamed so because of the birthmark that covered his face which looked like, well, a moth. I used to flirt hard with him in the beginning of our friendship, but now we trade barbs like any close friends.

“Just looking. I can look, can't I?” I turned back to the young group, seeing amongst their ranks a couple of orcs, a minotaur, a tiefling, and a rakshasa.

“Looking for you often means something else,” Moth snarled. “Things have been quiet since you were last here and I’ve found I enjoyed it.”

I smirked back at him. “As if you don’t miss me sucking your cock.”

Moth’s nostrils flared as he glared down at me. “Do you ever get tired?”

“Never. My stamina is vast and as far as I know, bottomless.” I hand him back the empty stein. “Unlike your tap.”

Moth grumbled something under his breath as he refilled my mug. “They’re a young group, refugees from Obresh.”

I clicked my tongue as I looked back at the group. “I see.”

Moth gripped my hand as I tried to take my beer. He flashed me a warning look. “I know I can’t stop you from doing anything, Bear. Just go easy on them.”

I snickered and freed myself from him. “You make me sound like some sort of troublemaker.”

Moth didn’t like my joke. “You are.”

I got up from my stool and strolled over towards the table. One of the Orcs caught sight of me first and quickly pulled up the map they were looking over. The others all turned to look at me and a couple stiffened into a defensive position. They all looked ready for the part as a ragtag team, but I could smell how fresh they were. They hadn’t been at this long, if at all. Being a veteran in this field, I would be willing to offer my services to them.

I put on my best smile just for them. “Fine group you have gathered here. What’s the deal?”