Chapter Text
A solid thump from the glass of whiskey sour being placed before him brought Jax out of his trance. His coin pouch sat in front of him, light and pathetic, and mocked him from the table.
Three measly copper coins.
The waitress held out her paw to him, claws extended, her smile stretching into something sinister, a glint of her fang catching the dim light from the tavern. Though she was a fairly cute looking feline, her demeanor tells a different story. A warning.
Jax rolled his eyes.
He dug into his coin pouch, fingertips shifting the coins as if searching for the right amount. A theatrical "Ah," escaped him as he pinched the lone coin between his thumb and forefinger, holding it up like a prize. With a sly smile, he placed it carefully in her waiting paw.
She snatched her paw away and tucked it between her overly large bosom with a satisfied "Hmph."
Yeah. He was never coming back here.
He looked back down to his coin pouch.
Two measly copper coins.
Fuck.
Even after finishing a solo quest, the reward had barely been enough to scrape by. The client paid him a fraction of what the flyer promised: a classic bait and switch that left him high and dry. He could've beaten the cheapskate for the difference, squeezed every last copper out of his lying hide, but…
But you can't take what isn't there.
The client had already given him everything they had. Jax could see it in the hovel they called home, in the ragged clothes hanging off their thin frames, in the way they flinched when he stepped too close. It wasn't really a scam, just desperation meeting desperation.
It wasn't that he gave people the benefit of the doubt; more that he didn't have the stomach to shake down a villager who'd already lost everything. The quest hadn't even been that hard, tedious more than dangerous, but he'd been desperate enough to ignore the red flags. An overly generous reward for simple work? He should've known. Should've seen it coming.
Now he was between a rock and a hard place. Guild fees were due, and if he couldn't pay, he was out. No guild meant no income- well, no easy income. But for someone with his particular set of skills, "easy" was really just code for "don't end up in a ditch."
Finding work though a guild was simple. Safe(ish). Clean(ish). But going solo meant putting himself out there, advertising his own services, trusting that the stranger across the table wouldn't slit his throat the second the job was done.
And for someone with his expertise? Going independent was a fast track to getting stuck in a very sticky situation.
To make matters even more peachy, he'd convinced the guild master to grant him an extension. Complete with a lovely late fee, of course. Caine had been easy enough to smooth talk, with him being a people pleaser, but his partner, Bubble, was a different story.
Bubble hadn't seemed threatening at first, just floating there expressionless while Caine rambled. Then, right as Jax turned to leave, those empty eyes fixed on him, his own reflection gleaming in the sharp points of Bubble's teeth.
"Next time you show up," Bubble said, voice flat and menacing for a bubble, "you have the money. Or you're out."
No bluster, no negotiation; just an ultimatum delivered like a death sentence. Jax had nodded, smiled, walked out, but the words followed him.
He had bet that last quest would actually get him out of this hole, only to find himself in an even bigger one.
Now he couldn't even step foot in the guild. Even if he managed to slip past Bubble and reach the quest board, even if he somehow found Caine alone long enough to sign off on something- it wouldn't matter. No solo quest paid enough to cover the guild fees, not with the late fee stacked on top. Not even close.
He was trapped in a perfect little circle: need money to get jobs, need jobs to get money.
Jax lifted the glass to his lips, savoring the burn of alcohol down his throat. Who knows when his next drink will be? He only got this one to drown his sorrows while his mind ran rapidly.
What to do? What to do?
It was not like a job will just fall in his lap-
A stool scraped across the floor, the sound jarring Jax from his spiral. His head snapped up, confusion written on his face for just a moment before he focused on the figure across from him. Then his expression soured.
A misshapen monstrosity dropped onto the stool across from him.
Zooble.
Without so much as a "mind if I sit," they flagged down the waitress with their mismatched mechanical arm, casting a light spell to ensure they caught her attention.
While the waitress ambled over, Jax raised his glass and dunk a mouthful large enough to count as liquid courage. Whatever Zooble wanted, he'd need the buffer.
He tried to play it cool, to swallow the liquid fire like it was nothing. But of course, he gagged, loudly, and immediately twisted away from Zooble, coughing into his shoulder like he could somehow make them unhear it.
The scoff from Zooble told Jax he'd failed miserably, but he still tried to contain his gag reflex. Lucky for him, he'd finally calmed down by the time the waitress reached their table.
Unlike with him, the waitress put on her best service smile, completely ignoring Jax as she turned her back to him.
"What can I get you… hon?" She hesitated, struggling to identify exactly what Zooble was; not that Jax could blame her.
Zooble wasn't fazed by this, probably used to it by now. They slid their attention to the waitress, hand already extended with a copper coin ready. "Just a pint for now, thanks."
The waitress gently took the coin from them with a courtesy nod before leaving the two alone.
Jax rolled his eyes at the double standard but didn't dwell on the waitress. He finally spoke up, chin resting on a curled fist propped against the table.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Zoobie?" The sweetness in his voice was honey dripping on his tongue and neither of them believed it for a second.
Zooble rolled their one functioning eye while the other stared ahead, locked in place. Creepy. Probably some magical trinket or a curse- Jax had never asked, didn't care enough to, honestly.
"Word from the guild says you're strapped for cash." Zooble was never one to beat around the bush.
Jax's eye twitched. Caine and his big mouth… head?
But Jax didn't let the accusation shake him. He sat up straight, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Don't we all? What? You're concerned for my well-being?" He cocked his head, voice dripping with mockery. "Never took you for the type to care about little ol' me."
Zooble shrugged, refusing to play into his antics, much to Jax's dismay.
"Not really. Just thought you'd jump at the chance." Their voice was flat, disinterested.
"Chance?"
"A job."
Jax internally cursed himself when his ears shot straight up.
Real subtle. Definitely not desperate at all.
Zooble didn't have a mouth. Jax knew this. And yet, somehow, he could feel the smirk spreading across that flat, triangular face. Before he could defend himself, the waitress arrived with impeccably terrible timing, setting down an overfilled pint of ale that sloshed lightly onto the table. Zooble accepted it with a nod of thanks. With that the waitress walk away leaving them alone once again.
Jax slumped further into his chair, a groan escaping before he could stop it. Zooble's party. The party. The one with the reputation, the success rate, the kind of jobs that made bards write songs about.
Saving villages. Defeating invasions. Hero crap.
Not his style.
Jax was a thief, let's call it what it was. He could fight when he had to, but fighting wasn't the point. If you wanted something locked away, if you wanted it gone without anyone knowing it was missing until too late, Jax was your guy.
But Zooble's party didn't need a guy. They needed a hero and Jax hadn't been that in a very long time, if ever.
Jax let out a breath and decided to cut to the chase. "I'm not one for fighting a dragon, if that's what you're looking for."
"Oh, I know." Zooble dragged out the words with an eye roll so exaggerated Jax could almost hear it. It irked him. Just a little. Maybe a lot.
He pushed past it. "So what, then? Finally got a job that pays actual money?" He tried to sound casual, but the hope bled through despite his best efforts.
"No. It's a rescue."
Jax was already halfway out of his seat, his interest and his chances of making money evaporating instantly.
"In the Goblin hideout." Zooble raised their voice, attempting to reignite Jax's interest, but it was no use. He was already turning his back, heading for the exit.
He tossed a lazy wave over his shoulder. "Even more reason to-"
He froze mid-step.
Wait.
Goblins.
Goblins hoard treasure.
Gold. Jewelry. Grimoires. Artifacts. If it sparkled or held value, it ended up in their filthy little claws. A goblin hideout wasn't just a dungeon, it was a fucking gold mine.
A very guarded, very dangerous gold mine. Filled with carnivorous goblins who'd look at a rabbit like Jax and see dinner. And the territory surrounding it? Checkpoints. Traps. Enough security to make an average party think twice.
Unless-
Jax spun on his heel.
Zooble hadn't moved, hadn't called after him, just sat there, watching, like they'd known exactly how this would play out.
He didn't have time to dwell on that. He was already sprinting back, practically launching himself at the table. His hands slammed down on the surface, the impact rattling every glass upon the table.
Zooble snatched their pint by the handle just as it tipped, a close save.
Jax didn't even notice. His eyes were wild, focused, alive with the kind of greed that made his reputation.
"Tell me more."
Call Jax weak. Hell, call him desperate because after that realization about the Goblin cave, it took embarrassingly little convincing from Zooble to get him onboard.
Something about a druid clan leader. Not Zooble's clan, some other one. The guy had gone out on a rescue mission and ended up needing one himself by getting captured by goblins along the way.
Some leader.
Zooble rattled off details and, of course, Jax didn't listen. He never needed a backstory as a job was a job.
But the why behind Zooble's party needing him specifically?
That caught his attention.
Even after their… complicated history on past jobs, they were here. Asking for him, because pure strength wouldn't cut it. You can't just fight your way through goblin territory; hit one checkpoint, if you don't kill them all then the whole network knows. Kill the patrol, and the next one comes looking when they don't report back. Fight every checkpoint, and your party bleeds out slowly, supplies dwindling, rests cut short by the constant threat of nocturnal patrols.
A party can only carry so much- can only rest so often. And resting in enemy territory?
Suicide.
If you didn't take the necessary precautions.
The solution came in the form of a buffer, a rogue. Someone who could slip past checkpoints and spot traps before they became problems, disarming the ones that blocked necessary paths. Someone who kept the party alive without alerting every goblin for miles.
Even if they made it to the hideout itself, an old church sanctuary swallowed up by the goblins, they couldn't just barge in. Not with hundreds of those monsters swarming the place.
The only way in?
Infiltration- Jax's expertise.
And so there he was, walking alongside Zooble as though they were old chums, a pep in his step that he couldn't quite hide. His problems were solved, or at least they had a solution now, which felt close enough to the same thing.
Would it be a walk in the park?
No- definitely not.
But it was doable, especially with Zooble's party.
He'd never say this out loud (never, ever, ever) but if any party could fight through a goblin horde and survive, it was theirs.
The thought made him walk a little faster.
"You don't even know where we're going." Zooble called from just behind him, amusement threading through their voice.
Jax blew a raspberry over his shoulder, that insufferable know-it-all attitude shining through. "Please. You guys always haunt Queenie's shop."
"Mmm." Zooble's hum was rich with something Jax didn't like. "Not anymore. We've got a base nowadays."
Jax's pace slowed to a smooth stop.
Zooble halted right behind him, and Jax just knew they were enjoying this.
He spun on his heel, confusion bleeding through his composure. "Hold on."
"You're holding."
"You guys actually managed to get an official base?"
An official base was like a mini guild hall and is where the party actually lived. Still part of the guild, technically, but functionally? It was a status upgrade.
People could post jobs directly on their doorstep if they wanted, and with Zooble's party, their reputation alone guaranteed the work would flood in.
Fuck, in a few years they could just make a whole new guild with the amount of jobs that would be coming in for them.
Much to Jax's dismay.
Zooble just stared at him, that invisible smirk radiating off their triangular face. "Jealous?"
Jax opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again.
Nothing came out- for once.
Zooble sidestepped him, moving past with casual ease before making a sharp right turn, the complete opposite direction of Queenie's shop.
Jax couldn't do anything but follow, trailing behind them like some lost puppy, and he hated every second of it.
Jax had built it up in his head, it has to be something impressive. Maybe a mansion? It's gotta be with the way Zooble’s smugness was radiating off their body.
The journey to Zooble's so-called base was shorter than Jax had expected, like-really short actually, just a couple of buildings down from the guild itself. It blended in perfectly with the others, mostly because there was a bakery on the bottom floor, making it completely unremarkable. Nothing about it suggested it housed anything special.
Jax blinked, looked up, looked down and finally brought his attention to Zooble, who was now fumbling with an overfilled ring of keys.
A laugh escaped him.
Zooble's head snapped up. "What?"
"This is it?" Jax gestured at the building, at the bakery, at the sheer normalcy of it all. "You made it sound like a fortress. A-A guild hall. Something- I don't know- grand? It's an apartment, Zooble. You live in an apartment above a bakery."
Zooble didn't let Jax's mockery deter them as they finally found the right key, jiggled the lock, and pushed the door open. "Just get inside. Everybody's upstairs already." They leaned against the door, holding it open.
Jax shook his head in disbelief before his gaze fell on the entrance. Right in front of him, a set of stairs stretched upward, looking eerily out of place. He couldn't show any more weakness, not after everything else that had happened that day.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and started his way up.
The stairs creaked under his foot, revealing the building's old age, and dust floated in the air catching the light that streamed through the entrance. Until Zooble let the door slam shut behind them and plunged everything into darkness.
Jax jumped with his shoulders hunched, his ears shooting straight up before he could stop them.
A breathy laugh echoed from below. Zooble.
"Dramatic much," Jax hissed, blinking rapidly as his eyes struggled to adjust. A faint glow came from the top of the stairs like some sick joke of salvation in the light.
"Scared much?" Zooble's voice floated up from behind him. "Now move, Bunny Boy. Party's waiting." The impatience in their tone was unmistakable.
Jax refused to dignify the back-to-back insults with a response, instead making his footsteps extra loud against the creaking wood. A petty rebellion, but a rebellion nonetheless.
Then he heard Zooble closing in. Fast.
His picked up the pace.
Zooble chuckled, low and breathy, and suddenly the stairs felt like a trap with the top of the stairs was the only way out.
He practically launched himself through the doorway at the top of the stairs and skidded to a halt.
The atmosphere hit him like a wall; warm, lived in, completely and utterly normal. Music hummed from somewhere while voices echoed throughout the room. Light poured into what Jax assumed was the living room, streaming through the windows and nearly blinding him after being plunged in the darkness of the stairs.
Jax blinked.
Whiplash didn't even cover it.
Zooble tsked at him, checking the door for any damage before gently closing it.
Jax scanned the seemingly empty room, which was furnished, technically, though the mismatched pieces looked like they had been picked for convenience rather than aesthetics.
But the more important question at hand -
"Where is everybody?" Jax turned to Zooble, confusion plain on his face, but his tone carried a hint of annoyance.
Zooble's standoffish personality shined through as they simply shrugged. They jutted what Jax assumed was a thumb from their oversized wooden hand, pointing toward the only hallway in the room.
"Probably in the kitchen. It's lunchtime, after all." Zooble said it like it was common sense, conveniently ignoring that they'd both been drinking before noon.
The muscle under Jax's eye twitched again. He was this close to losing it, and he hadn't even met the rest of the party yet.
He stalked down the hallway, counting doors as he passed. The floor plan made no sense.
Who designed this?
Then his nose caught something savory and warm.
Huh, so they were having lunch.
His stomach nearly rumbled, reminding him that only thing he had today was a stale piece of bread and a glass of whiskey sour. Maybe that's why he was extra irritable today.
A faint burnt note cut through the smell, making his nose wrinkle.
A failed attempt?
He reached the end of the hallway, which opened into a small space that somehow fit a kitchen, a round dining table, and the four people packed inside like sardines.
Silence fell the moment Jax appeared. Every eye turned to him.
Kinger and Gangle sat at the table directly in front of the entrance, their lunch, some kind of porridge, still steaming, resting before them. They stared up at him, frozen mid-motion.
Ragatha stood off to the side, bowl in hand, a cloth barrier between her palms and the hot ceramic. No surprise there, she was exactly the type to give up her seat for someone else's comfort.
But someone else caught his attention, perched on the counter, bowl held just like Ragatha's. A clown. Their red and blue pinwheel eyes blinked up at him, and Jax froze.
Those eyes. He'd never seen anything like them.
Then he noticed the rest. Even sitting criss-cross on the counter, they were short- like insanely short. Small, too, skinny beneath that cloak, delicate in a way that seemed almost fragile.
He kept cataloging. The mismatched lashes. The clown like blush that appeared to be imprinted on their face. The bedhead that suggested they'd just rolled out of somewhere. The faint dark smudge on their chin and forehead-
Ah, the failed cook.
Then they spoke, and Jax's brain stalled.
"Umm… hi." The voice was high, but not pitchy like Gangle's- it was soft and definitely uncertain. A shaky hand lifted in a nervous wave.
Jax blinked.
Oh. A woman.
Jax scanned the room once more, noting that the party was still staring at him with blank expressions.
Rude. Didn't anyone teach these guys manners? He plastered on a smile, masking the indifference churning beneath it, and completely ignored the tiny clown's greeting. Not on purpose. Okay, maybe on purpose.
"Oh, please! Don't stop on my account!" He waved a hand at their bowls. And just like that, the spell broke. They stirred and went back to pretending they hadn't been staring.
Ragatha glanced at Jax, then at the stranger on the counter, then back at Jax. She gave a little bounce on her feet as she spoke. "Oh, Pomni-"
Pomni. So that's her name.
"This is Jax! You know, the one I… talked about." Her voice dropped, nervous, trailing off like she'd just remembered she wasn't supposed to mention whatever she'd said.
Jax's smile sharpened, just a bit.
So Ragatha been gossiping… Great…
Even though Ragatha always tried to seem like everyone's friend, this clearly proved the opposite, or maybe Jax was just the exception. A depressing thought really, but he wouldn't be surprised. He'd never really gotten along with her or anyone else in this party, really.
Well, except maybe Kinger. Though Jax wasn't sure he counted, given his… issues.
A shove sent Jax stumbling forward and it was Zooble, bulldozing their way past like Jax was just a mere obstacle in their way. They dropped onto the nearest seat at the table, and Jax had to bite back a laugh.
The table was hilariously tiny, could be easily mistaken for a child's playset. Zooble towered over it, the chair creaking like a cry for help under their weight.
Before Jax could dwell on the funny scene before him, the stranger's voice- Pomni's voice- rang through the room again like a bell. Or maybe that was just for him. His damn bunny ears heard everything crystal clear.
"Oh! Right!… Jax, the rogue…"
An awkward pause stretched between them. Normally, Jax would've filled it with a witty quip: something clever, something dismissive, something that reminded everyone exactly who they were dealing with.
But for some reason, his brain seemed to be fried. His mouth refused to cooperate.
Zooble noticed, shifting their body to face him, the chair screaming once more from the movement, and raised a brow at Jax's unusual silence.
It was Pomni who broke the tension, not gracefully, if Jax could add. Her awkwardness seemed to be her default state.
"D-Does that mean… he's coming with us?" Her lips pressed into a thin, nervous line.
Every eye in the room swiveled to Zooble. Every eye except Jax's, because Jax was too busy staring at the newcomer, trying to piece her together like a puzzle.
Zooble was already looking at him. Of course they were. They'd been waiting for this.
"Well?"
They had that knowing look, the one that said they knew he was desperate, that he'd practically jumped at the chance, that he had no other options. That he needed this.
Jax's jaw tightened, his hatred for Zooble reaching its boiling point.
But of course, he smiled.
A slow, easy exhale through his nose. His shoulders dropped and his spine uncoiled. He leaned against the doorway practically making himself at home, like he owned the place and everyone in it was just visiting.
"Raiding a goblin fortress with death written all over it?" He let out a scoff, casual as anything. "Of course I'm in."
Causal. Confident. Like he was just passing through.
But inside, he was still screaming.