"Damn it! This place is less than 30 kilometers away from Sellon, how come there are so many goblins? Doesn't it mean that the place ruled by Ms. Selul Anji is safe?"
Looking at the carriage destroyed by the fireball technique, a middle-aged man who looked to be about forty years old and slightly fat was cursing through gritted teeth while turning around and running back crazily, with a painful expression on his fat face.
Judging from his attire, he should be the leader or owner of this caravan.
Losing a carriage and its cargo will cost it at least hundreds or even thousands of gold coins.
If it is something of high value such as silk, spices, magic items, etc., this number will expand several times.
This is unmitigated bad news for any businessman.
However, in Faerûn, a world full of monsters, bandits, cults, and evil dragons, anyone who wants to go out for business must be mentally prepared to face various crises.
Therefore, although the merchant felt distressed when a carriage was set on fire by the fireball spell, he did not order the surrounding mercenaries and employees to put out the fire and rescue the goods.
the reason is simple!
He cares more about his own life than the loss of money.
The top priority right now is not to reduce losses, but to ensure that the caravan can survive the goblin raid.
Especially the opponent also has a caster who can release the three-ring fireball spell.
This is an extremely terrifying and fatal threat to most teams without the ability to cast spells.
"Please, Sambia is currently fighting a civil war, how can there be an absolutely safe place.
Nobles and warlords in many places have begun to bribe and hire monsters such as orcs, gnolls, goblins, and ogres.
What's more, they will allow these guys to plunder towns and arbitrarily massacre serfs who have been abandoned by their masters.
Maybe these goblins were funded by nobles and wealthy merchants in the north to deliberately disrupt trade routes.
In comparison, Ms. Seluer Anji's place is already pretty good.
At least she wouldn't just find any reason to confiscate merchants' goods, and there wouldn't be those greedy officials and thieves' guilds exploiting them at all levels.
If I had to vote for someone to be the king of Sambia, I would definitely vote for Ms. Selul Anji."
A male warrior wearing chain mail next to the obese businessman rolled his eyes angrily and raised his shield to help the former block the inferior arrows shot by the goblins.
Although every one of those who are still making a living in this country are vultures, they feed on war, killing and death, and occasionally act as bandits when necessary.
But this doesn't mean that they don't want a safe and stable place to settle their families, or to have a way out for themselves.
Therefore, compared to the oligarchs in the north who have long since torn off their hypocritical masks and shown their cold and brutal side, the south of Sambia, which implements highly centralized and authoritarian rule, is safer and more prosperous.
After all, Selul Anji is also one of Zuo Si's followers, so he will naturally receive some overt and covert funding from the West Coast Empire.
Moreover, with the Kingdom of Cormyr at its back, the sea routes are still open, allowing for various trade activities.
Both food and tax are guaranteed to a certain extent.
Although the life of civilians is not considered wealthy, at least the two basic survival requirements of safety and filling their stomachs are guaranteed.
This is why the northern oligarchs have executed large-scale executions of escaped serfs and slaves more than once, but they still cannot stop the countless fleeing lower-class people.
They really can't survive under the rule of northern oligarchs and warlords.
Many and even whole families were packaged and sold to the red-robed mage of Sere and the slave merchant of Zhentil Castle, just in exchange for the most scarce food.
Because of the last food war launched by Zuo Si, the northern region of Sambia still has not recovered from the huge damage to the production structure even after such a long time.
On the contrary, because Seluer Anji in the south adopted a dictatorial rule, he confiscated a large amount of land from wealthy merchants and nobles and distributed it to serfs, forcing them to plant corresponding crops in accordance with the government's requirements, ensuring the most basic food, vegetables, and fruits.
and meat supply.
As a businessman who dared to take huge risks from the north of Sambia to come to the south to do business, Fatty certainly knew that what the mercenary captain beside him said was absolutely correct, but he still couldn't help complaining: "When signing the contract, we can
It was agreed that you should ensure the safety of the caravan, but now a carriage has been burned down. You must kill that damn goblin spellcaster as soon as possible, otherwise I will lose money on this business if there is another fireball."
"Shut up! Are you still thinking about the goods at this time? Open your eyes and take a good look at how many goblins there are here."
The mercenary captain unceremoniously pushed the businessman to the ground to prevent him from being hit by flying arrows and javelins, and then shouted at the top of his lungs: "Samuel! Get the hell out of that guy who can cast fireballs!"
The goblin spellcaster! Let him do it again and all our commission this time will be ruined!"
"Boss, are you kidding me? Look at the shield-wielding guards around him. My arrows can't go in at all. What's more, he must be blessed with mage armor and protective arrows."
An archer hiding behind the carriage stabbed to death a goblin who approached him with a dagger. His leather armor was covered in foul-smelling blood and he didn't dare to stick his head out.
Anyone with a bit of common sense knows how "terrible" the goblins' archery skills are.
It is estimated that even they themselves do not know where the arrows they shoot will fly. It is almost as good as the Brownian motion bombs launched by a large country in South Asia.
Are you afraid of arrows whose flight paths are completely unpredictable?
What's more, those rusty, blackened, and plaque-covered arrowheads are likely to have tetanus and other horrific "enchantment" effects.
Some people were stabbed by goblin arrows or spears. As a result, they started to have fever a few hours later, causing the wounds to become red, swollen and ulcerated, until they died painfully.
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! Curing this terrible symptom requires at least a three-ring magic or a bottle of disease treatment potion, which is not something that low-level adventurers and mercenaries can consume.
Started.
"Then what do you think we should do? We can't let the goblin caster continue to release fireballs, right? If this guy does it again, we can't expect to get the rest of the commission. Maybe we can escape alive.
question."
The mercenary captain was obviously a little anxious. He stared at the goblin who had just cast the fireball spell and was groping for spell-casting materials in his pocket. All the nerves in his body were tense.
You must know that the team he leads is not an elite team. Except for himself, who is a mere LV3 warrior, the others do not even have professional ranks at all. At best, they can only be regarded as militiamen with a small amount of training.
If they relied on fortifications to fight, they might be able to repel goblins and kobolds that were several times or even ten times their number.
But there is no advantage at all in this kind of surprise battle.
The most important thing is that there are too many goblins, there are two to three hundred people.
"If it doesn't work out, just retreat. Save your life first. Anyway, these goblins must have come here to rob the goods. They shouldn't pursue them too far after getting what they want."
An old man who looked about thirty years old expressed his opinion.
After all, the commission for escorting the caravan this time is not high, and it is only three or five gold coins at best if it is allocated to each person. How can you spend such a small amount of money?
When the businessman heard this, he immediately got up and screamed: "No! No! You can't do this! I will go bankrupt! And this is not what the contract says!"
"Idiot! Who cares about the contract at this time?"
The old youtiao curled his lips disdainfully.
You must know that thirty years old can be considered a "longevity" in the mercenary industry, which has a very high mortality rate.
Most young people who rush in and want to make a name for themselves and start a career usually don't even survive the first four months to half a year before dying in some battle.
So guys like this who have been working for several years without dying have their own code of conduct and way of survival, and know when to fight hard and when to run away.
But now that the situation is clear, it's time to run away.
As for the credibility problem caused by abandoning the employer at a critical moment, the worst case scenario is that the team will change its name or be disbanded and reorganized to start over in another place.
Only by ensuring your own survival can you continue to make money and enjoy fine wine and women.
It has to be said that Laoyoutiao's words instantly made the members of the mercenary team excited.
The captain stared at his employer with a frightening glare in his eyes, clearly intent on killing and silencing him.
As long as the merchant is killed and the money he carries is taken away, he can naturally leave Sambia and live happily elsewhere for a while.
Anyway, the entire Faerûn continent is not peaceful at the moment.
Whether it is the revival of the northern elf kingdom Cormanthor, or the battle between Shade City and Zhentil Keep, which claims to be the successor of Netheril, or the sudden emergence of a large number of monsters in the Kingdom of Cormyr, and the sudden appearance of Muir in the east of the Sea of ​​Fallen Stars.
In the war between the Holland Empire and Unser, experienced mercenary groups are being recruited everywhere.
The only thing that is relatively peaceful is the West Coast Empire and the surrounding radiation range established through the trade alliance.
As long as the war continues, they will never have to worry about having food to eat.
The businessman undoubtedly noticed the changes in these mercenaries, and he was immediately sweating profusely with fear, and every piece of fat on his body was trembling uncontrollably: "Don't... don't kill me! I swear in the name of the goddess of wealth that I will kill you when I arrive in Ser
I will give you double the reward after Lun! No, not double, but three times, four times.”
"I'm sorry, Mr. Employer, it's too late. I feel now that instead of working hard to earn that pitiful commission, I would rather just kill you for the money you got."
As he spoke, the mercenary captain smiled ferociously and swung the leaf hammer in his hand, intending to open the businessman's head.
Anyway, some goblins took the blame, so he didn't worry about anyone accidentally finding him.
To be continued...