Before becoming an Adventurer, Gary was a bandit. He wasn't called "Gary" in those days, in fact, he didn't even have a name then. But so what? For a goblin living deep in the forest, this was perfectly normal.
What Gary and his two brothers liked to do most at that time was to rob humans travelling alone near the forest. Out-going humans always carried food with them, and for Gary and his brothers, anything tastier than sour berries and insects was considered a delicacy - oat biscuits, lemon cake, black sausage, and smoked pork chops...
Pork chops were the best, even better than gold coins. Because even if they stole those shiny metals, they had nowhere to spend them. Even now, the thought of pork chops would make Gary involuntarily drool.
Although profitable, robbery was a job full of high risks. Because humans were tall - much taller than goblins - they could only deal with lone pedestrians.
Gary's elder brother had a rusty sickle, a formidable weapon that was at least better than a branch. Through the patchy rust, you could even see a little bit of the luster of the iron from the edge of the sickle, which was rare.
That formidable sickle was stolen by Gary's older brother from a farmer. As a result, his older brother was chased by the farmer's dog and bitten severely. Escaping from the "ferocious beast's" mouth was something his elder brother always took proud of during his lifetime.
As for Gary and his other brother, they usually had only a short tree branch with green leaves on it or a few stones they picked up.
Robbery was not an easy business. Faced with a numerical disadvantage, travellers would usually have their clothes cut by the sickle or get wounded in the forehead by a stone, then drop their bags and run away in panic. But sometimes, they would fight back or accidentally run into a helping hand.
Most of those who could resist had confidence in themselves, and their fine steel long swords were much more useful than sickles and branches. That's how Gary's eldest and second brothers died. The long sword easily penetrated his elder brother's chest and cut off his other brother's head, spraying blood all over the face of the tall "attacker", winning Gary a little time to escape.
Gary ran helter-skelter. As a goblin, you couldn't expect it to have the "courage" of humans. At the time, it had room for nothing but fear in its heart.
With eyes closed, it ran wildly until its feet seemed about to break, and its throat was dry as if it had been cut with a blade. It was exhausted and lay on the grass somewhere to gasp for breath; the moon and stars had already filled the sky.
Fortunately, the "attacker" didn't chase him. When Gary was catching his breath and regaining strength, he saw a tall pointed tower under the cold bright moonlight...
"What are you thinking about?" Gary's head was slapped by a human, pulling him back from memory.
"Thinking about the golden rum I drank at noon, that taste!" Gary adjusted his hood, smacked his lips thoughtfully, as if he was reminiscing about the wonderful liquor.
He didn't want to bring up anything from his memory - whether in the forest or in the tower - with anybody else...
"Oh, come off it! Four people chipping in for a drink, even the poorest dog-headed man would burst out laughing!" The human who slapped his head smirked, "Even if you're a goblin and don't care about face-saving, you should consider the reputation of our team! When other adventurers in Muya City mention the name of our Adventure Squad, 'Helpful Hand', I don't want them to think of such a shabby thing first!"
"That's not the way to put it, Wesley, that's golden rum specially made in Arbor Island! I heard that only liquor stored for over ten years can slowly develop that enchanting amber!" A human companion who sipped wine with Gary retorted dissatisfiedly, "That one glass is enough for your several months of wheat beer."
"I'll say it again, William, call me knight Wesley!" Wesley emphasized, "I'm your head, you should all respect me!"
"Knightship is not hereditary, just because your father is a knight, doesn't mean you are!" William replied indifferently, "And this is Muya City, a knight here is no more respected than an innkeeper. Right, Gary?"
Gary didn't want to get involved in such arguments, he was a goblin, the lowest level of the Wise Race on the continent, so he didn't want to offend anyone, that is, any human.
Here was the city state of Muya, directly under the Magic Association that ruled the continent, where almost all races could "live harmoniously" under the whips of the order of the mages: you could even see a Drow and a forest elf dating here, see an ogre bartender politely recommend various aperitifs, and a giant troll dressed in a suit, perfumed and attending a dance...
Nevertheless, Gary was always careful, not to offend anyone, or rather, any human. Because the Magic Association was a human Magic Association, it had nothing to do with any other races on the continent, so in other words, humans were also the rulers of the continent.