The tavern still smelled of stale ale and old humiliation.
Dust layered the beams. The shutters resisted when forced open. A cracked mug sat on the counter, abandoned mid-evening months ago.
Bradley stood in the doorway longer than necessary.
Six months ago, this room had hosted shouting, broken furniture, and a public disgrace that still circulated in half-muttered conversations.
Today, it would host something quieter.
A ledger.
Boots scraped against the stone behind him.
Deorwine stopped two paces back.
"I hear," the archer said flatly, "you are founding a guild."
Bradley did not turn.
"I am formalizing contracts."
"That is not what people are calling it."
"What are they calling it?"
"A spectacle."
Reasonable.
Bradley stepped inside and pushed the door fully open.
"Then we remove the spectacle."
By midday, three men occupied the tavern's long table.
Deorwine sat with arms folded, expression skeptical but present.
Ulric Fen leaned back carefully, stiff knee extended beneath the bench. Old fracture. Poor weather made it worse.
Maelor, hunter by trade, scanned the rafters and windows before taking his seat.
No crowd gathered.
No eager recruits.
Just experience and doubt.
Bradley placed a single parchment on the table.
Old Dornelis Subjugation Contract — Temporary Auxiliary Charter
Ulric squinted.
"Auxiliary to what?"
"House Tatume."
Maelor grunted. "So we bleed, and you collect favor."
Bradley met his gaze evenly.
"If you bleed, the town loses."
Maelor studied him, then nodded once.
Fair.
Deorwine leaned forward.
"Explain the structure."
Bradley did.
"Bounties posted for verified monster kills within marked perimeter zones. Twenty percent retained for administration, equipment storage, and corpse verification."
Ulric raised a brow.
"Twenty?"
"Yes."
"That is generous."
"It funds sustainability."
Maelor tapped the table.
"And classification?"
"Adjusted by threat. Goblin, wolf, orc."
"And who decides classification?"
"I do."
Silence settled heavily.
Deorwine finally spoke.
"That is where trust becomes relevant."
Bradley inclined his head.
"Payouts recorded publicly. Contracts posted on the wall. Payments logged."
Ulric frowned.
"Publicly?"
"Yes."
Maelor scratched his jaw.
"You want transparency."
"I want durability."
A long pause.
Ulric leaned forward slightly.
"And what do you gain?"
"Reduced patrol strain. Stabilized trade routes. Lowered panic."
Ulric snorted faintly.
"You speak like a clerk."
Bradley considered that.
"Clerks are rarely buried."
Maelor's mouth twitched despite himself.
The door opened without warning.
Captain Hadrik entered without removing his gloves.
"You move quickly," he observed.
"Delay compounds risk," Bradley replied.
Hadrik's gaze passed over the table.
"You understand if this collapses, the guard absorbs consequence."
"Yes."
"And if one of these men disobeys command?"
"Guard authority overrides during a crisis."
Ulric shifted.
"So if you shout, we obey."
"Yes," Hadrik said plainly.
Maelor nodded.
"Reasonable."
Hadrik's attention returned to Bradley.
"The Baron has not authorized private charters."
"This remains under House Tatume."
"For now."
"Until told otherwise."
A measured exchange.
Hadrik removed his gloves slowly.
"Then tomorrow you accompany the patrol."
Ulric blinked.
"He does what?"
"If he issues contracts," Hadrik continued, "he witnesses execution."
Bradley did not argue.
"Understood."
Deorwine stared at him.
"You are serious."
"Yes."
"You will carry steel."
"Yes."
"You can barely outrun a cart."
"That can be improved."
Ulric barked a short laugh.
Maelor shook his head.
"The forest will find that amusing."
Bradley replied calmly.
"I do not require its approval."
Night fell over Old Dornelis.
Bradley rewrote the contract terms twice.
Clause revision: no engagement beyond marked boundary stones.
Clause revision: two-man minimum teams.
Clause revision: corpses inspected prior to payment.
He paused at the final line.
Payment upon verified kill.
He opened the smaller ledger.
Five gold capitals.
Projected goblin frequency suggested manageable payout.
If escalation included orcs—
He stopped.
One instability at a time.
The tavern door creaked.
Deorwine remained in the doorway.
"People think you are trying to redeem yourself."
"They may."
"Are you?"
Bradley set the quill aside.
"If redemption increases stability, it is acceptable."
"That is not what I asked."
Silence lingered.
Bradley met his gaze.
"I prefer structural correction to confession."
Deorwine studied him.
"You have changed."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because the previous model failed."
A pause.
"Very well," Deorwine said. "I will join tomorrow."
"Good."
"Not because I trust you."
"Reasonable."
"Because if you collapse in the forest, I intend to witness it."
Bradley inclined his head.
"Fair."
Before dawn, four men gathered at the eastern gate.
Hadrik.
Maelor.
Ulric.
Bradley.
Deorwine adjusted his bowstring.
Fog clung low to the ground.
"Observation first," Hadrik said. "Engage only if controlled."
They crossed beyond the boundary stones.
The forest did not greet them.
It was assessed.
Maelor crouched near disturbed earth.
"Tracks," he murmured. "More than last night."
Hadrik scanned the brush line.
Ulric shifted weight carefully.
Bradley noted spacing between them.
Then—
A rustle to the left.
Deorwine's bow lifted instantly.
Three shapes burst from the cover.
Closer than expected.
Faster.
One lunged—not at Bradley—
At Ulric's knee.
Calculated.
Bradley stepped forward instinctively.
Blade raised.
The impact rattled through his arms, nearly tearing the weapon loose.
Pain flared in his shoulder.
Ulric swung wide, driving the creature back.
Deorwine's arrow struck the second cleanly.
Hadrik closed the distance with controlled violence.
Steel cut.
The third goblin retreated immediately.
Not panic.
Assessment.
Bradley resisted pursuit.
"Hold," Hadrik ordered.
They held.
Silence returned.
Ulric breathed heavily.
Bradley's forearms trembled.
Alive.
Ulric glanced sideways.
"You blocked."
"Yes."
"Late."
"Yes."
"But you blocked."
Bradley nodded.
"That can be improved."
Maelor snorted quietly.
Hadrik wiped his blade.
"They test coordination now."
"Yes."
"And target weakness."
"Yes."
Hadrik studied the treeline.
"They are no longer measuring walls."
Bradley met the dark brush steadily.
"No."
A pause.
"They are measuring us."
Wind shifted through leaves.
No retreat.
No sound of scattering.
Somewhere beyond sight, something had recalculated.
Hadrik's voice lowered slightly.
"If this guild draws more men, they will test larger groups."
"Yes."
"And if you miscalculate?"
Bradley did not look away from the trees.
"Then the cost will be visible."
Silence lingered.
Then—
A distant howl.
Not goblins.
Deeper.
Further within the forest.
Maelor stiffened.
Ulric's jaw tightened.
Hadrik's gaze sharpened.
Bradley felt the shift.
Goblins were not alone.
Pressure had not merely escalated.
It was layered.
And tomorrow—
He would announce contracts publicly.
Which meant tomorrow—
The forest would be watching closer.