《Fodder》


 Prologue

    When crime becomes prolific enough, eventually it has to become organized.


    Organized crime is never a force for good, but the amount of damage it does can vary. Not just by size of the operations but by management of the families.


    It happened that one particular city, not too long ago, had had a rather mismanaged underworld. Recently assassinations and bombings had shaken up the peace and the citizens could no longer live in peace. This gave impetus to vigilante justice of a strange nature.


    -


    The setting was a busy street in the center of the city. Regular lunch hours were over and people were returning to their desk jobs, it was the time of day where the pavement was visible and people had the room to walk around obstructions and clusters of people, but not so late that they had time to pay attention to these groups or obstructions.


    "Gotcha"


    The man gave a wry smile as he took a hold of the flask.


    "Travelers from another world? I''ve decided to believe you, after what I''ve seen today."


    -


    He''d been wrestling away control of a fluorescent concoction from what seemed to be a group of regular teenagers.


    "Hand over the elixir, you villain." One of the girls proclaimed with a regal bearing and tone, dissonant to her young body in its mature dignity.


    -


    In front of her stood an adult, a fully grown man easily half again her weight. Yet he was cautiously stepping back, increasing the distance between himself and the children.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    He was clean shaven and dressed in business casual attire, but heavily sweating due to physical exertion.


    Despite his intimidated aura he wagged his finger triumphantly. "Your spell doesn''t affect ''Old Souls'', does it? And this is the elixir for turning into an ''Old Soul''. That''s what you said."


    "You tricked us!" an older boy shouted, putting his foot forward and curling his hands into fists. "He said-"


    "I know." the first girl interrupted. Despitte their appearances she seemingly held some authority over him. She maintained an unblinking gaze on the elixir thief. "You can not escape justice for your crimes."


    "That''s exactly what I''m going to do." He wiped the sweat off his forehead, disguising it as adjusting his hair. "When did alien invaders get so obsessed with justice anyway?"


    He quickly and nervously fumbled the flask open, keeping an eye on his enemies for the chance of a surprise attack at this critical moment. Then he greedily gulped the liquid down.


    "I got the better of you body snatcher freaks." He spread his arms and threw the container aside in a theatrical and environmentally irresponsible manner.


    Most of the supposed freaks where dumbfounded by shock and anger. But their leader gave a little smile. "Since you went so far to obtain our secrets, you should have done a bit more research."


    The thief lost all expression in his face. "Are you bluffing me?"


    "It is true that the flames will not respond to the sins of reincarnated individuals, I designed them that way as I and my comrades have had to stain our hands with sin purging the worlds of man from evil."


    "So, then-"


    "It is also true that the elixir of eternity, that you tricked my associate into brewing, which is intended only for individuals aligned with the cause of justice, will grant the drinker the gift of reincarnation."


    Her enemy swallowed. He had already seen the loophole.


    "But you have not yet reincarnated. The elixir will make you an Old Soul, but only after your death. Then, our master, the goddess, will decide over your sorry fate. In this life, we shall judge you."


    All allies of justice had come forward and were pointing their fingers at him. Then they began saying their memorized lines, one after the other.


    "As is our mission, given by the goddess-"


    "- we pass judgement on this evildoer."


    "For your lies, bribery and betrayal-"


    "we will cleanse you from this world."


    "Every sin a flame. Incinerate!"


    Given no time to comment on this bizarre performance the man suddenly combusted. Every sin and evil deed commited in the past coming back to him as a spark of cleansing fire. The spell was merciful and did not drag out his suffering. He was burned to a crisp within seconds. The Old Souls congratulated themselves on another succesful enactment of vigilante justice. Next time, they wouldn''t attract so much eye witnesses.


    Meanwhile, a newly born Old Soul sank into the fabric of reality and towards the world beyond.

 Judgement

    So this is it. I''m dead. Well, I lived the way I wanted. Thanks, Dad, you may have raised me to be a sociopath, but you at least raised me to be a high functioning one.


    After a quiet moment of reflection the soul became aware of a cartesian reality. He was a thinking conscious being.


    That''s right, the elixir!


    Rather than fading away into oblivion, he found himself in an otherworldly realm. Around him was a brilliant white celestial plane. He took through wandering the empty void, casually taking in the experience like a tourist, until he came upon a large throne. On top of it was the goddess.


    She was a fiery presence, a figure of intense light that he couldn''t look at directly. There was no way for him to look at her face, but the nature of her feelings was made clear very easily.


    "Intruder! How can you justify your crimes!?"


    Right. This is where I get judged.


    He knelt down, showing deference and lowering his gaze not to look at the blinding light.


    I have to accept this new situation and roll with it. Just moments ago I had no idea of the existence of a higher power, but now she is the top priority for heels to lick.


    The being on the throne gave a "ch" sound and the being in front of it quickly responded, not to wear down her patience too much.


    "Your -eh- majesty. I come before you, humbled. Graced to live a life blessed by fortune and health."


    In the stress of the moment it was hard to come up with a justification for his involvement with organized crime, embezzlement and blackmail. He was padding for time with some platitudes about gratitude.


    "In my pursuit to make the most of this gift of life, I may have forgotten-"


    "Silence, you louse!" The ethereal being had interrupted him.


    "You are not here to answer for your worldly misdeeds. My champions saw fit to eliminate you from that miserable world and that''s enough."


    She stood up, he raised his head, shielding his eyes with his hands and not seeing anything in particular.


    "HOWEVER! You have committed a grave offense against my order, imbibing the elixir and intruding upon my heavenly domain!"


    The goddess was stepping closer, her radiant light enveloping his entire vision. Still holding up his arm he fell over and started crawling backwards. "Ah,, well. You see; I was only-"


    "The gift of reincarnation is a power I grant to my servants, for them to inhabit the bodies I grant them and bring justice to the realms of man!"


    Despite his crawling she was steadily coming closer. The backing away was a reflex, he didn''t have anywhere to go and didn''t work up the initiative to scramble to his feet and run. "Now that I understand that, I ca-"


    "You may have found a way to obtain this power, but I still control the destination of your soul."


    He felt his head getting grabbed by elegant, slender hands, and before he knew it his retinas were burned with the image of a beautiful woman''s face, contorted into an expression of pure hatred.


    "I have already thought of a fitting destination for the likes of you."


    -


    Suddenly it felt as if he was falling and he was enveloped in darkness.


    <hr>


    The next sensation he felt was a slimy membrane covering his body. When he became aware of his limbs he was able to rip apart the constricting placenta and exposed himself to the cold air.


    It was a disturbing sensation. His body was stubby and weak like a newborn baby, his ears were filled with the painful wailing of a woman and in front of him shone the ugliest face imaginable.


    It looked like a child that had stopped growing and had started aging. Its face gaunt and malnourished, residual strands of hair sticking to the skin on top of its head and its mouth a wide grin of brown and missing teeth, exuding a rotten stench of decades without dental hygiene. But the most inhuman feature was the green hue of its skin, together with the putrid smell it evoked the image of mold and infection. Reflexively, the newborn smacked it with his stubby arms, its already pronounced fingernails scratching the dehydrated skin. This got him dropped hard on the humid moss.


    "Scratch!" The creature swore at him, its voice thick from a diseased mouth and poor pronunciation. It was his new name.


    The little Scratch found himself on a moss bed inside a stone cave. Looking at his own hands, stretched in front of his body he saw that his own skin was as green as that of the monster. There were other newborn around, superficially they were ordinary, healthy, babies, except that their skin was an inhuman green color.


    Scratch looked up at the older monster, a grown male of the species. He was bend over a woman, not at all green. His perspective was a lot lower than in his previous body, but he deduced she had to be a human woman, perhaps one on the shorter side.


    In a grotesque approximation of childbirth the woman was giving birth to the sacks of membrane that housed the monster children. The monster wasn''t serving as a midwife to help her through the process, he was holding her down so she wouldn''t be able to kick the newborn children to death.


    The creatures around him seemed blissfully indifferent to the horror show and were content sucking their thumbs and crawling over the moss, becoming familiar with their own bodies for the first time. They were in a slightly inclined cave, just under the stone overhang to protect them from any rain should it occur, but basically near the entrance. It was an unnatural fissure in the earth, like a wound that had opened up in the forest and was now festering with disease, them.


    The last child was taken from the human woman, immediately named "Runt", for its small size. After the litter had been delivered the mother crawled into a corner to cry, while the monster went on to pay attention to the children. Scratch had to accept the reality that it was their father. It had used a human woman as a broodmare to produce more of its kind. That was the kind of creature they were. A fitting destination for the likes of you. It made him want to cry. As an infant, in wouldn''t have been particularly inappropriate.


    <hr>


    Scratch had been the second-to-last child in a litter of six. Their given names were:


    "First",


    "Teeth" (who had the tip of his future dentures already crowning out at some places),


    "Yeller" (who had been loud during childbirth),


    "Quiet" (who hadn''t),


    "Scratch"


    and "Runt" (the smallest).


    All of them were male. They came to be familiar with their names as the older monster pointed at them and barked orders. "Teeth. Stop.", "Runt. Eat." The newborn were instructed to play nice and fed a mush of gathered roots and bugs in various stages of decomposition, dumped on the ground. There was no nursing with the mother. Scratch wanted to complain about the quality of nutrition being forced upon a newborn, but his throat and mouth weren''t sufficiently developed to accommodate speech. He was able to properly convey his feelings with a well-placed "bleh", though. This got him a firm knock on the skull from the father.


    Ever the individualist Scratch excused himself from the feeding pile and went to explore. He managed a clumsy waddle despite his infant body structure, although he noticed that he was born with a body that seemed to have an age of a few months from the get go.


    The cave went on for some distance, despite the light not reaching very far it seemed like his eyes were perfectly capable of making out the rock wall and floor. Yet, it gave him an ominous feeling to go towards the depths, so he stayed around the opening. The human woman was sobbing on the floor, she wore cotton or linen clothing, a dress and undershirt stained with the various excretions of monster birth. It was hard to deduce the time period the clothes mimicked, somehow the styles of different eras and European countries were mixed to produce a generic medieval peasant.


    Instinctively Scratch had waddled closer. His mother had noticed him and started kicking her legs, she was having a mild panic attack. He could feel himself getting lifted off the ground, two boney hands had grabbed him at the waist.


    "Human Bad. Stay with Drool." Drool must have been the father''s name. Don''t blame me, she''s your girl. Scratch wanted to retort. But he couldn''t. And she probably wasn''t anyway.


    <hr>


    The next day the children had grown to twice their previous size and grown a head of fluffy brown hair and a full set of adult teeth, which were too big for their mouths. "Say, aah." Scratch tested out his throat and mouth. "Do-Re-Mi~.


    Excuse me, not quite used to the canines yet." He said to Quiet, who gave him a non-comprehending look.


    "Scratch. Come. Yeller. Come" Drool called over the two children with the most aggressive sounding names and put a rock in each of their hands. "Go hunt."


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    "Are you kidding? With a rock?" But Scratch''s complaints were drowned out by Yeller''s enthusiastic shouting. He hadn''t developed much of a vocabulary but he was capable of animalistic roaring. He grabbed his weapon and ran out of the cave. Scratch stayed where he was, looking up at Drool. "How do you hunt? Do you hunt? Have you ever hunted anything? And I mean, like, caught something?" He got another knock on the head. "No talk weird."


    Scratch resolved himself to his new mission and sauntered out of the cave. A thin watery sun shone from behind a gray mat of clouds, it still managed to somehow hurt his eyes. He found Yeller chasing some bird, which simply flew away. The image wouldn''t have seemed out of place in any modern setting, a small child being overly enthusiastic and running after wildlife. Of course Yeller possessed some inhuman features and went about completely naked. When he saw his brother approaching him he ran up to him. "Hunt! Hunt!"


    Look at that. His first word. And he isn''t 24 hours old yet. Scratch was legitimately impressed.


    "We''re not going to catch anything running around screaming. How about we hunt for some edible plants first?"


    Suddenly it seemed like Yeller was about to hit him with the hunk of stone still lodged in his tiny fist. Scratch flinched, but he was merely miming the action of hitting something. "Hunt!"


    "Hmm. Looks like you''ve got your mind made up. You know what? That''s fine with me. It''s probably just to keep us busy anyway."


    The two made their way through the sparse trees, making way too much noise to sneak up on any animal. Trashing through the grass, shouting and yelling.


    I feel so light. It really is like being a kid again.


    Scratch made a big jump and let himself tumble into a pile of leaves. With the large heavy body of an adult such acrobatics would carry the risk of serious injury, but with this tiny frame all he needed to look out for was sharp objects and not landing on his head. Then again, sharp objects wouldn''t be rare on a forest floor.


    What am I even doing? There''s tons of ways I could have hurt myself doing that. Why am I running so carelessly through unmanaged woods?


    -


    As he was having his moment of self-reflection Yeller dove after him, cheering loudly.


    "Ouch. Hey, haha. Watch where you''re going!"


    He tried to put up an angry scolding voice, but he couldn''t quite stay in character. In any case, his brother didn''t stick around to listen to him and ran off further to find more leaves.


    "Hey, don''t run off too far."


    What a bother, having to watch over a kid. I suppose I need to keep him out of trouble. Since his father won''t.


    He looked at the rock in his hand. Hunting. The family seemed like a primitive species, although the mother had clothing indicative of a more advanced society, she seemed to be a captive. Drool had had a loincloth, a piece of rancid fur, but besides that no fabrics were used by the creatures. No tools for plant gathering or fire hearth to cook.


    Did drool really expect them to carry back some animal''s carcass? What was he going to do with it?


    It''s not even a hunter-gather civilization. It''s a hunter civilization. One without real tools. On the level of common animals. No way I''m sticking around. No goddess can decide what life I''m going to live.


    He heard Yeller shouting a little distance off so he stepped through a faint use trail, avoiding sharp branches with his feet. When he looked around he saw plenty of materials to be used for basic tools. The bark of willows lends itself to ropes, he also saw pines and various plants that normally grew edible fruits and berries. All in all a rather welcoming temperate environment.


    He was now close enough to Yeller to notice he was freaking out about something, despite having to shield his eyes from the piercing sunlight. The little creature was jumping up and down, grabbing his head and seemingly not too far away from crying. He was looking at some sort of object, laying between the leaves.


    "Hey, what''s wrong buddy? Are you alright?"


    Upon approach the cause of the spectacle was laid bare. The bled out body of a green-skinned child.


    Scratch raised an eyebrow. "Well, it''s not one of us."


    Although obviously the same species the child had a face distinct from any of the six siblings. Yeller jumped excitedly around the corpse while Scratch crouched down next to it to examine it.


    It seemed about their age, another male. More than one animal had already gotten to it and disfigured the child posthumously. To test his theory Scratch pulled on the eyelids, revealing the advanced size of the maggots eating the eyeballs.


    "Hmm, this has been here at least a few days. Cause of death?"


    Now Yeller had entered the game too. He had understood the gist of what Scratch had been saying and moved the corpse to reveal a large wound, slicing open the torso from hip to rib.


    "Whuu-aah" He gasped.


    "Yup. That''ll do it. What could have caused a gash like this?"


    With that response Scratch scraped his hands between the leaved, feeling the dried up blood in the earth. Then he pulled out a yellow curved object, shattered on one end, pointy on the other, about the length of his fore-arm. "This is the weapon that killed him. A tusk of some kind. The poor fellow must have managed to bash it with a rock after it had already been lodged into his abdomen."


    He showed the tooth to his brother. "What creature do you suppose wields dentures like this?"


    Yeller raised his rock above his head and started chanting again. "Hunt! Hunt!" He ran off looking for the creature.


    Scratch was left behind in a serious mood. He looked down at the little fallen soldier again.


    "You don''t hurt kids." He murmured to himself.


    <hr>


    "You. Don''t. Hurt. Kids." With every word the thug drove his knuckledusters into his stomach.


    It was Earth, several years earlier. To show his competence and loyalty to the syndicate he had expanded their business into work with certain underground medicine development facilities. The kind that use human testing. He had promised them a yearly supply and set up special canals for embezzling foster children, that was supposed to be his specialty, infrastructure. Sure, it broke the syndicates rule against harming the underage, but the profit margin was so big he had expected that to go ignored. It wasn''t the kind of rule that upheld the power of the don, it was just some mad sentimentality by one of the founders. So why did he find himself tied to a post in the boxing school of a syndicate enforcer?


    "Look, Butch. I''ll make it right-"


    This time the hit was directly to his jaw, dislocating it with piercing pain.


    "I work with scum like you every day. Every day I deal with sick shit like this. You. Don''t. Hurt. Kids."


    He had begun his earlier routine again.


    His victim vomited up blood. "Ah-m S-awwy."


    "Yeah. You will be."


    The beatings had continued for at least an hour and had left him with a chronic pain. The arbitrary distinction between the lives of children and those of adults was of course completely irrational. It was a pride thing, as long as they had some code of honor they could claim to live by they could pretend to be righteous people.


    Righteousness. If there was ever anything more despicable. That day, he vowed to bring down the old guard of the syndicate, one way or another.


    <hr>


    "I think we need to face reality, Yeller old friend. That boy there was our older brother."


    Yeller looked at him uncomfortably. He could more or less make out what his brother was saying.


    "Seeing as how quick our growth is, gestation is probably taken care of within days too. That kid died while we were conceived."


    They were walking calmly now. There was a wide use trail leading away from where they were born, it made for comfortable walking.


    "Is that how Drool survives? Breeding new children and throwing them at the forest to get him food? For how long has he been doing this?"


    "Nu-uh" Yeller made an angry grunting noise.


    "Well. What''s your theory? Because from where I''m standing it-"


    "NU-UH!" Yeller grabbed his face and directed him towards what had made him react like that.


    Past an old oak tree the use trail ended in a small clearing where a smattering of piglets where hobbling over each other.


    -


    "Food!" Yeller grabbed his rock tightly and began running towards the creatures, wanting to smash their heads in. The piglets exploded into every direction squealing loudly.


    "Argh. No! You''re just scaring them away. Besides, what about their mo-"


    As he said it the aspiring hunter was flung into the air by a large pig-like creature that had jumped out from between the bushes.


    Despite the speed and suddenness of of the being''s appearance and its attack on Yeller, Scratch could see the creature clearly. An oversized boar with one tusk broken off at the base. Luckily it had hit Yeller with the de-tusked side of its face, merely sending him flying into a hazel tree. It set its sights on goring the kid immediately and trashed through a bramble-bush unfettered to get to him. Without thinking Scratch gripped with rock tightly and threw it into the direction of the monster. It hit it in the hind leg, seemingly doing no damage. But the creature stopped its advance and abruptly turned its gaze towards its attacker. Nervously Scratch moved the tusk he had picked up to his dominant hand, he tried to make himself seem large, standing next to the sturdy old oak tree. Not intimidated, the created accelerated towards him with a loud screech, determined to use its tusk this time.


    Time seemed to slow down as the beast reach his position, the deadly weapon pointed directly at his naked stomach.


    He froze up, but at the last moment moved from making himself tall to curling up as small as possible and turning partway behind the tree for cover. In his outstretched arm he pointed the hand held tusk at the underbelly of the monster, assuming that that was the most vulnerable spot. The creature screeched again, from pain this time. It swerved away from the source of the pain, but the sheer force of a creature that heavy colliding with his arm still made Scratch tumble to the ground.


    He got on his feet as quickly as possible, by the time he could get his bearing the boar was already dashing into his personal space. With no time to react he stretched out his arms blindly, his empty palm enclosed around the creature''s remaining tusk and he managed to push the rest of his body away from it as it drove into a tree. He quickly stabbed the weapon into its eyes before he was flung away by the mad thrashing of the monster''s head.


    As he fell to the ground time sped up again. His tusk was on the ground. The beast was rolling on the ground in pain, it had been slashed open at its throat and face and was bleeding heavily. Yeller entered his field of vision as he walked up next to it. The kid probably didn''t understand most complex language but he still explained the situation to him.


    "If we let it bleed out like this it''ll die eventually. We can mercy kill it, but it''s probably dangerous to go near it right now."


    Yeller just sat down next to him. As they watched the beast agonize together Scratch could only reflect on the little death-defying stunt he had made moments ago.


    What the hell made me think that was a good idea?


    <hr>


    Goblin


    Family: Subhumans


    Threat Level: F


    Reward: 1 copper piece


    Goblins are fodder. They are one of the few monsters safe for rookie adventurers to face. A fully grown goblin has the strength of a child and can live up to 30 years. They''re an all-male race, identifiable by their short stature, green skin and ugly features. They bother human settlements by attempting to kidnap young girls or even women, with whom they breed to create more goblins. Exterminating a goblin nest that has grown too large is a party quest of level F that can result in promotion to level E for the party that completes it.


    Goblins posses the Fearless nature, which means they are immune to spells and effects that cause fear, but they will also attack opponents far greater than themselves with no hesitation, which is why their average life expectancy is very low. Despite being humanoid and belonging to the family of subhumans goblins are considered to have the intelligence of animals, they have no toolmaking or planning capability.


    Their main weapons are numbers and their ability to see in the dark, when they are defending their nest they will use both of these weapons efficiently and pose a bigger threat than they do outside their home, which is what makes a goblin clearing quest a mission that can result in promotion.

 Leaving Home

    Yeller was elated and proud of his brother. He might be a little weird and say a lot of stuff Yeller didn''t understand, but he had just defeated a great monster all by himself. Now Scratch was talking at him angrily about his bruised arm and how he shouldn''t be reckless like that. He simply gave a big smile and patted his head, Scratch fell silent in surprise at the sudden skinship.


    Yeller skipped over to the dead beast. It was heavier than the two of them put together. Scratch was talking again, just by standing next to him Yeller''s understanding of language had grown immensely. He had been able to glean the meaning of Drool''s commands from context, Scratch''s babbling was a bit harder to parse but just being exposed to language had made him better at recognizing sounds and words. Right now he was able to make out a number of distinct words from his brother''s endless stream of blabbering and place a meaning next to them.


    "... bring ... food ... Drool"


    He was right, the carcass needed to be dragged back. Scratch had said before that he thought Drool had no problem sacrificing their lives for a small chance at getting food. But they did get food and they didn''t die, so it wasn''t a problem, right?


    Yeller grabbed at the hind legs of the best and tugged, despite the pain in his arm. It didn''t move. Even with the two of them they were barely able to drag the thing a single step further.


    "Go. Back." Yeller said.


    Scratch began babbling again. "... leave behind ...? ... great ... haul!"


    "Get others. Carry together."


    Scratch relented and some time later five of the six siblings where dragging the animal together. They hadn''t been able to find Drool and Runt but with the five of them transporting it was manageable. In consistent intervals First would grunt and then the five of them pushed and pulled together as one. Yeller eventually used only his good arm and Quiet wasn''t able to get a good grip from the side of it, where he was walking, but in the end they got home eventually.


    They were hungry, Teeth had already tried to take a bite out of the beast, only to get a mouthful of hair. They all understood that they needed Drool to somehow turn the creature into food.


    When they arrived they found Drool beating Runt to death with a stick.


    <hr>


    "Hey HEY." Scratch ran up to Drool, but stopped before he could get in range of his wooden club.


    It was First that dared to come close and grab his father by the arm. He got an elbow to the face in return.


    Runt wasn''t even crying anymore, he was spasming on the floor. The damage to his cranium had already gone too far, he was dieing.


    Apparently Runt had challenged Drool''s authority and the patriarch had had to kill him in a struggle for leadership.


    Or maybe you didn''t see a use in him anymore. Thought Scratch, although when he recalled his own stupid act he realized that a small creature like Runt challenging the larger Drool wasn''t that unrealistic. Their species had to have some sort of reduced fear response. Or maybe just their family.


    -


    While First and Quiet got rid of Runt''s corpse, somewhere between the bushes, away from where they slept, Drool cut up the game for them. No word of praise, no acknowledgment of the danger of the task or the prestige of the result, he simply accepted the large beast as if it was perfectly natural.


    To skin it he used a knife. It looked sort of bad, with rust forming on the blade, near the handle, but it was probably his prized possession. It was something he wasn''t willing to lend out to children he had sent on a deadly hunting trip. The fur of the animal was cut up into crude patches of bloody skin, which he gave to his children as loincloths. It wasn''t properly tanned leather, but flaps of bloody skin, they smelled and would probably start rotting after a while. Drool himself wore a similar piece himself and it smelled of death. However, they covered the nether regions, Scratch could already feel his dignity as a person return as he wore the first piece of coverup of his second life.


    He straightened his back and looked out over the area in front of the cave. It beats being dead, I think.


    -


    While they were getting dressed Drool was cutting the flesh of the beast into hunks of meat. When Scratch tried to take one he almost got stabbed.


    "Leader eat first."


    "Jeez. Fine. Whatever."


    The children stood around watching Drool slurp the blood out of savagely cut open animal, which he needed for hydration, and then stuff his face with raw meat. He made a mess of himself so eagerly feasting on bloody uncooked flesh. He probably hadn''t eaten himself for days.


    When their father stood up it was the children''s turn. With painful aching in their stomach they set their teeth directly in the exposed innards of the carcass, sucking up its juices and chewing on the pink flesh. Scratch had understood that fire was beyond them at this point in time, but to eat the meat raw... He stood still, first looking at his siblings feeding, then over to the spot where Runt was unceremoniously buried and into the cave where Drool was lying down. He took a big breath and put a piece of ripped out muscle tissue into his mouth. It was chewy and tasteless, but surprisingly satiating. It did not trigger any gag reflex. His body seemed to accept this kind of nourishment.


    I can''t continue eating this. I''d get some sort of disease. Fire. Fire can''t be hard, it''s just rubbing sticks together. He thought, as he put another piece into his mouth. He''d work on fire when his hunger pains were relieved.


    <hr>


    The sun had already gone under hours ago. He only realized it when he wanted to put sticks into the sunlight to dry.


    There hadn''t been any shadows or bright spots for some time, with his new eyes he had just as much vision in the dark as in the light, so he hadn''t noticed the sun going down. It had to have been twilight when they killed the swine, then the sun came down completely during the group effort in moving it. After the meal the others had gone to sleep while Scratch had been stripping young hazel branches of their bark with a chipped stone. With some ground up dry leaves and some more twigs for kindling it should be possible to create a fire in front of the cave. That the sun had gone under so quickly had thrown a wrench into his plan though.


    Is it winter? That can''t be, right?


    The similar vegetation had made him believe this world was mostly Earth-like, with some strange creatures in it like the large-tusked boar and his family. The plants still may have had lost a lot of their leaves, but it was too warm for this to be the winter season with these plants around, even if they were in a coastal climate.


    The sticks obviously still had some moisture in them, maybe the leaves too. He managed to produce smoke but no fire and after a while had gotten blisters on his hands from twisting the wood too hard. In his single-minded focus he would have damaged his palms a lot more if he hadn''t been distracted by the sudden screams and sobbing of a familiar female voice. Reinvigorated by the full meal Drool had woken up and decided to celebrate by trying to create a new batch of younglings with the captured human woman.


    <hr>


    A back-alley, above a storm drain.


    He was vomiting.


    "Come on, you''ve seen victims before."


    The one speaking was a partner in crime and confidant. She had her hand on his back in a token comforting manner.


    "These ones are alive." Was the response.


    "That makes a difference?"


    His expensive lunch was gone now, for a moment he had felt like he would continue to spew all the gastric juices in his body, but he had been sufficiently purified now. He closed his eyes and visualized his discomfort leaving his body with every breath and cleanness and purity entering in its place. The redness in his face disappeared and he entered a calm and disconnected state of being. It was a trick of self-hypnosis that he had come to rely on way too much over his life.


    "Let''s go inside." His friend said. "We''ve got cleanup to do."


    "Yeah, yuh-" He barely gave an audible response, but he followed her back.


    -


    They had a big discussion about his unprofessional conduct afterward.


    "So when you''re disgusted by what goes on in there, that''s like a moral judgment, right?" She said with a smug grin.


    "I mean... not really? It grossed me out. If I had moral qualms I wouldn''t have facilitated in the first place, I don''t think."


    She stopped him. "Even if you don''t act on it. It''s still, like, empathy and stuff. And you said-"


    He sighed. "It''s like you''re making an effort to misinterpret my philosophy, it''s not about not feeling emotions. It''s... how do I say this." He began gesturing with his hands, which he did mostly when he had trouble articulating himself. "It''s about not projecting a state of how things should be on the world. I don''t come up with any ideas about how those girls should be treated, or what our client should or shouldn''t be able to do to them and I definitely don''t come up with anything that should happen to them if they don''t live up to my ideal world."


    He got a skeptical look. "But you still want to take down the don, right?."


    "That''s not revenge. We''re getting rid of something that''s dangerous to both of us. I still look out for me, I''m not that zen."


    -


    He got the feeling that he had disappointed a friend with his contrarianism. But they were his true thoughts and he respected her enough to talk about such things openly.


    <hr>


    It was unbearable having to stay near the cave with those noises going on. So he went for a walk. The immediate area around the cave did not seem very often trafficked, it was a mess of branches and leaves and he had to look out where he stepped. Yet there were no harvestable fruits around. On closer inspection, this really was winter vegetation.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    The summers had to get unbearably hot in this world, if the depth of winter, at a latitude where days where this short, was so mild. He looked at his own hairless arm.


    Or maybe this body just doesn''t register temperature as well. Am I going to enter hypothermia without knowing it?


    These kinds of thoughts occupied his mind during his walkabout, when the scenery had gotten repetitive rather quickly. He wasn''t able to travel very far on his naked soles and had to cut his journey short back to the cave.


    Untreated ground was unnavigable for someone like him. All in all the trip hadn''t been enough to spare him from having to see his father abuse his mother. It was getting deeper in the night and he was getting tired so he eventually resolved to go in.


    There was nothing erotic about the green-skinned geriatric child imposing himself on a struggling woman. Once again the ugliness and banality of the human form, as he saw it, was laid bare as the two forms collided into each other like slabs of meat and liquid. None of the other children were actually asleep. First was watching the spectacle, Teeth and


    Yeller were playing quietly with sticks and Quiet was lying on his back, staring at the cave ceiling. There was some strong inner instinct preventing him from peering into the abyss that was the deeper cave. The grunting and crying was too loud to properly ignore.


    "Leader go first." First said to Scratch.


    "What are you saying? Are you waiting your turn? Get outta here."


    All five of them had grown noticeably over the course of the day, they weren''t that far apart now from Drool in size.


    Perhaps their species was mature enough for that kind of thing after two days, but it was not a pleasant notion to entertain.


    First looked at him in confusion.


    "Why do I even bother talking to you creatures. You''re barely cognizant are you?" Scratch kneaded First''s face like a child''s while insulting him.


    Angrily the eldest child grabbed his arms and tried to push him over, the struggle turned into a wrestling match. It wasn''t a gentle fight and Scratch lost, ending up with a black eye and a ringing in his left ear, but it was some distraction from the loud rape not ten feet away and when it was over Drool had sauntered off and let himself fall on the heap of moss he had collected for himself to sleep.


    <hr>


    The mother was staring into the darkness, her unseeing eyes, having nothing to focus on, just peered into the distance. Now that Scratch got a better look at her she looked emaciated, her clothes hanging wide off her body and her face gaunt and pained. Drool was barely able to feed himself, never mind his pet here.


    And let''s not forget, birthing his children must drain away a lot of nutrients too. We''re really like a parasitic existence, aren''t we? Scratch added in his mind.


    She looked half-dead, to Scratch she seemed more like someone in need of emergency medical attention than healthy breeding stock. First had his reservations too, trying to knead his genitals to get ready for the act like he had seen his father do. He wasn''t quite able, it may have been part of their species'' social structure to share a mate, but it''s something different when that mate is your direct ancestor. Their community was too small to follow such rules.


    Scratch came back with a piece of raw meat clenched in his fist. He had decided to try to communicate with this person. Drool seemed to speak a few words of his own language, that he knew from his time on Earth. With any luck the limited language Drool was using and teaching to his offspring was based of the human tongue in this area, if not this woman herself directly. His peace offering was a piece of raw boar, which he didn''t think she had been fed with yet.


    First just looked on as his brother approached the upper part of the human woman, the part with the face on it.


    "Did you eat today? We have a special pork carpaccio on the menu today, it''s a thickly sliced assortment of shoulder and fore-rib cut-"


    Her eyes suddenly widened like she had awakened from a dream. Wildly she shook her head to determine the source of the sound. Scratch simply continued. "- all free-ranged, organic, grass fed and so on..."


    "Is somebody there?!" Her voice was hoarse and raspy but she raised it to such a volume and pitch that it made Drool twitch in his satisfied slumber.


    "Yes, there is somebody here. It''s me. I am here. Right in front of you. I was offering you food." He held out his stretched out arm with the bloody ribbons of pig flesh.


    "P-please, take me out of the place. Take me away." She started sobbing.


    "Were would you go? Do you have a home?"


    "I''m from Eston, down the river. I have family there, they''ll... they''ll give you something. Just. Please. I''ll die here."


    A human town. Even if it was a medieval society, it had to be a step up from the animalistic life Drool had supplied for them. If he brought her back, he''d be a hero. What''s more, they were relatives, her family was his family.


    Eagerly he inched closer to her. "Do you know what direction this river is in? Can you lead the way to Eston?"


    "What do you mean? The river is... you must have seen the river to the north of here when you..." she crawled towards her savior, reach out her hand and grabbing his small bloody fist. "AAAAGH"


    She threw herself back, throwing the raw meat on the floor.


    "What a waste. You know someone that looks like you shouldn''t go around wasting food." Scratch complained.


    "You''re... Where are you." Said the woman, said the woman, fearful and suspicious.


    "I''m still right in front of you." He walked towards her, close enough for her to see the contours of his small head at the low light level. He had guessed what her apprehension was about. At first she had thought a human had come into the cave to save her, now it had become clear to her that one of the monster spawn was talking to her like a person. "Do you still want me to save our life?"


    She crawled backwards, curling up in memory of the recent violation and those preceding it. "No. no. You''re a monster."


    "Then die."


    They were harsh words. He wouldn''t be able to smuggle someone out if they were protesting his every move in a traumatized state of delirium, so he gave her a curt answer and turned away. With two breaths he had banished the thought of her suffering from his heart, in his philosophy nobody deserved anything, what happened simply happened.


    -


    Briskly he walked out of the cave, out to where he had left his boar tusk to pick it up and back to the rest of the beast, where he began to use it for ripping off what was left of the skin. His actions had a fast and hurried pace to them.


    "What you doing?" First had followed him out and was inquiring about his sudden action.


    "What am I doing? I''m making foot covering so I can leave this place and go to where people are." He had procured two acceptable tatters and was scraping the remaining blood and flesh from the insides.


    First sat down next to him. Interested in this mythical other place. "For me too?"


    "No." Scratch did not look at First to acknowledge him when he said that. He had made bags to go over his feet and tied them around his ankles with the waste skin he had produced by skinning with such a crude instrument.


    He took a moment to recall the passing of the sun over the previous day and set off to the north, leaving the tusk and all other tools behind.


    <hr>


    Scratch had to pass some smaller streams before coming to the riverside. He knew that the river was a significant landmark so he passed over small ones that could be crossed in a single step, as long as he was going more or less north he would eventually find something. He had just developed doubts about this strategy when the rushing of fresh water became audible. He hurried over the forest floor to where the sound emanated from. With his makeshift shoes running was possible, although he still had to watch out not to step into larger sharp objects.


    It was a significant stream, easily ten feet wide, but not very deep. A grown man might have been able to wade to the other side, but the flow seemed quite significant. Greedily Scratch plunged his head into the fresh water and slurped up the life fluid. The blood of the boar had kept him alive, but not comfortable, what''s more it had been an unpleasant liquid, leaving the taste of spoiled meat in his mouth. This fresh water was muddy but infinitely better.


    When he was done quenching his thirst he began scooping water from the river with his hands and washing his body with it. He was a bit cautious about bathing in it since the flow seemed relatively powerful but he still needed to wash the old sweat off his body.


    The refreshing and rest had invigorated him and he quickly set off again, following the river towards Eston. He was content, having closed a chapter in his life, and a nasty one at that. The next part would consist of convincing humans of his gentle nature and intelligence and carving a place out in their society. He had discarded the family given to him by the goddess, they probably weren''t meant as much of a gift anyway.


    I have no need for them, therefore, I have done away with them. He thought to himself. I''m more of the lone wolf type anyway. I wouldn''t want to associate with a bunch of troglodytes. They''d only slow me down.


    As he had made up his mind like this he started humming a popular song from his previous life. Not a critically acclaimed one, a modern one that he had kept hearing and had gotten stuck in his head.


    <hr>


    The sun was just about to come up when Scratch noticed the tilled fields. These were lands tended to by a farmer. He didn''t see anybody in the immediate vicinity, so he continued his path past them alongside the river, until a wooden farmhouse with a straw roof came in view. It wasn''t a very impressive building, not a hovel quite yet but not much bigger than a family apartment in the modern world either. They were dirt farmers, close to no cattle of their own, only a piece of arable land and woods to gather wood from. On the outside he could see a young girl, wrapped in winter clothing, carrying a bundle of wood from the shed inside, the breath visible as thick white mist against the orange sky.


    At first he increased his pace in his enthusiasm, but then he slowed down in order to think about his plan of action. He had to make a good impression if he was going to convince these people to bring him to Eston to meet his family. He straightened his back, wiped off his loincloth and walked around the house to find the front door to knock on. Just as he turned the corner, walking on a muddy path he almost bumped into the young girl he thought was inside.


    She was about his size, which all but equaled Drool''s by now and the same apparent age. Her clothes where hand knitted wool in various colorful patterns and they didn''t cover her face, which was frozen in fear.


    "Oh, uh. Hi" Scratch tried.


    Now she was able to react.


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaa"


    He covered his ears and stumbled away from her.


    "Pumpkin!? Pumpkin, what''s wrong?" An adult male voice came from inside. The father of the girl naturally came running at the screams of danger.


    The girl hid behind her fathers leg as he let his gaze fall upon a startled Scratch.


    Through the screaming, which was still going on, Scratch tried to make himself heard. "Listen- if you could- I''m onl-"


    "PATTY. THERE''S A GOBLIN BEHIND THE HOUSE. GO GET A KNIFE." The father yelled inside. Not slowed down by his own lack of sharp implements he charged Scratch to kick at him.


    The first kick hit him straight in the chest and knocked the wind out of him. Despite this the fear of death was able to move his body backwards quickly enough to avoid the next one.


    Scratch gasped. "I''m.. not..."


    But he had to flee. He sprinted away from the farmhouse, opposite from the direction he had come from, without looking behind him. When he finally ran out of breath he stood on an empty farm field. He collapsed on the ground. His body did not have the stamina to run for extended periods of time.


    All the limitations of a child and none of the charm that''s supposed to come with it.


    He gasped and wheezed, digging his hands into the earth in frustration. Just in time he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. The farmer had not been content merely chasing him away from his home, he came after him, with a weapon this time. He was holding a shiny hoe in his right hand and he swung the head at scratch like it was a halberd.


    The goblin dodged the initial strike but was immediately hit in the ear. A sharp pain and red liquid filled the right side of


    Scratch''s face, the implement has gone clean through his ear.


    Scratch yelled in pain and tried to turn his face away, but the farmer was was unrelenting, hitting him with an overhead strike and piercing bone right next to the temple, driving the head of the tool partly into his eyeball. This time he didn''t scream he simply fell on his back. Dazed, blind in one eye, in denial about what had happened during the last 2 minutes.


    He was awakened to reality when the man set his boot on his throat, lifting the spud above his head once more, ready for the kill.


    "This is what happens when they come out of their stinking caves."


    Scratch grabbed the foot of his attacker but could not wrestle it away.


    Just as the farming tool was about to come down and separate the top part of his skull from the rest he mustered all his strength to throw his entire lower body up and plant his foot in the back of the farmer''s other knee.


    When the support of his ground-planted leg suddenly gave out the human suddenly tilted backwards, Scratch gave a good twist to his other foot to make sure he went down. The tilled earth was softened and his face buried into the tilth without any injury, his arms flailing down afterward.


    Fighting the urge to flee Scratch grabbed his leg and pulled away the pant leg and sock, he buried his teeth in the exposed skin, making sure to inflict a painful wound. The man screamed and kicked at him, hitting him painfully in his gory wound. The goblin scrambled to his feet, only now was it time to flee, with such a painful wound in his leg it would be hard for the farmer to give chase. Alternating between two and four limbs Scratch hurried back into the forest where he had come from.


    <hr>


    "I''m glad we''re all together like this." Said Scratch, putting the finishing touches on Teeth''s foot bindings. The third of the five family members he was making them for. "You know, people like us, we need to stick together. We can only reach our full potential by working together."


    The five siblings were together, sitting around the patch of ground that had developed to be Scratch''s workshop.


    "Humans chase you out?" First said bluntly.


    "I... well, that''s not the point. The point is. We''re all brothers, you know. We''ve got to look out for each other."


    "Yeah!" Yeller reacted enthusiastically, grabbing Teeth and Quiet, who happened to be standing next to him, by the shoulders. "Brothers. We work together."


    <hr>


    Eston


    Faction: Reddington


    Size: C


    Level: F


    A medium sized city in the northern reaches of the Reddington empire. It falls under the duchy of Dichtershire and belongs to the Dichtershire family, however it does not belong to any county or barony and is not equipped with military defenses. This is because the city is quite remote and away from disputed territory. Because of its size Eston has an adventurer''s guild, however, the surrounding monster population has historically been low-level enough for peasants to deal with themselves.


    Eston''s economy is based on its river port and ability to transport goods from the surrounding farms to the rest of Dichtershire. Manufacturing guilds and the adventuring guild are quite small compared to the rest of the continent. Reports on the thieves'' guild suggest that it is relatively influential.


    No nobility live in or nearby Eston.

 The Rival Gang

    "GAAAAAH" The goblin roared in pain, betrayed by an unexpected enemy.


    "Teeth! I told you to wait until it had cooled!" Scratch snatched the skewer out of his brother''s hand. The freshly roasted meat had burned the child''s tongue. "I swear, like I don''t have a day job making sure the little ones don''t hurt themselves."


    The little ones were the infants born in Scratch''s absence, their birth had been the last straw for their mother''s deprived body and she had died, ignorant of this tragedy they eagerly explored their surroundings, up to and including the fireplace he had managed to get going.


    Their names had been given by Drool again:


    "First",


    "Kicker",


    "Biter",


    "Dumb",


    "Fat",


    and "Slow"


    They weren''t very flattering names, and there were two Firsts now. It was not like Scratch''s impression of Drool''s parenting skills could drop much lower, but he could have at least avoided redundancy.


    Either he''s not used to his children surviving for this long, or they were never intended as names in the first place. Just insults and phrases he says when pointing at someone to give them an order.


    The fire was vital for their prolonged health, rather than eating raw flesh containing disease and who-knows-what they could now subsist of roasted pork. Scratch had introduced the concept of toothbrushes to the goblins too. They were small softwood twigs with the ends cut into shreds like brushes. They were supposed to use them to remove the food on and between the teeth after eating.


    "So you won''t end up like Drool."


    Teeth had been eager to preserve his namesake so began proudly using it, which encouraged the others to follow suit.


    <hr>


    Now the whole troop was up and about, cooking food, watching over the young ones and exploring the forest with their new made shoes, before Drool had even woken up. Scratch dared to leave the young children and the immature


    Teeth alone for Quiet to watch over for a minute and went back to the hunting prize from the other day, where he had been embroiled in a new project.


    "If only we had an easier access to water." Scratch murmured. "Not just for cleaning, hydration too."


    As he was pondering the problem he was digging his small hands into the decaying board carcass, pulling out tendons and slicing them out in as long unbroken strings as he could manage.


    First (the older one) was holding the beast open at Scratch request, to make the task easier. "You said there was a river. North."


    "There is. There are a few streams too, but it''s a long distance to walk for a single gulp of water. We need a contained.


    Like, a jar, or waterskin." He said while focusing intensely on a long wire he had almost removed completely without damaging it. "Okay... okay... O- Rats. Can''t we grab Drool''s knife?"


    First shook his head. "Drool said: only leader use weapon."


    "Is that so. Only the leader can use his weapon?" Scratch said, finding a reason to repeat the phrase so he could correct the grammar. "Well, I suppose this one is good enough." He put the tendon next to himself on the red stained earth and wiped his hands on his chest. "Could you hand me that rock and stick I prepared."


    First handed him the tool components. One was a chipped and sharpened rock, but much to large to hold in one''s hand and use effectively, the other was a straight hard stick, a hole had been partly carved and partly burned through it on one end.


    "You have to use fire to make sure the material doesn''t split." Scratch had said.


    "Watch closely, I''m going to combine these items." He said now.


    First stared intently at Scratch using a mixture of soot and pine resin to secure the rock into the hole and tying it together with the harvested tendon. After he had finished and tested out the weight himself he gave it to First to test.


    "It''s a club." First proclaimed, swinging it around.


    "An axe actually. See, because it''s sharp." Scratch pointed at the various parts of the tool. "Because there''s a long handle, you get some momentum from the swing and you can hit harder."


    The next few hours of Scratch''s life were spend trying to chop down a tree. He had started too ambitiously, on a thick dead oak near the cave but had to give that up and find a small one further out. While away from the rest of the group he was more comfortable rubbing his painful and itchy face. During his visit to the human farm he had been mutilated by a hoe, the entire right side of his face was a bloody mess of scabs and pus, it took a lot of willpower out of him not to continuously scratch and pick at it, so his forestry mission was slowed down quite a bit by this distraction.


    <hr>


    First had a good feeling about his brother Scratch. Runt had been a letdown, they were both young and immature but his impatience got the better of him and he had attacked Drool while First was away. Drool had been too strong and


    Runt was killed. Scratch wasn''t like that. When First was going to take over the group and defeat Drool it would be handy to have someone like Scratch around, to make tools and teach about being clean. It wouldn''t be too hard to keep him in line either, Scratch had been gravely injured when trying to flee to human lands the other day, so in a fair fight he would probably lose to any of the older brothers.


    How he would take out Drool, that was the problem. Drool had the human-made knife, the greatest weapon there was.


    If First somehow got his hands on Scratch''s axe he could maybe overpower him with a surprise attack, but he would need the support of the others to take over as the leader. Teeth was stupid enough to convince of anything, Scratch did it all the time, and Quiet would stay out of it out of cowardice. That left Scratch and Yeller, the hunters. They had


    Drool''s respect for their successful hunt and the others seemed to look up to them. They had the most to lose with a change of leadership.


    All First needed was a good excuse. A reason for the goblins to rebel.


    Those were the things he was thinking about while brushing his teeth by the side of the stream, the banging of rock against wood audible in the distance.


    Suddenly he noticed movement in the bushes. There was the patter of feet and a powerful rotting smell coming from the underbrush. Out jumped two- no, three goblins. They were all clad in old loincloths, some of their teeth gone but most still there in their yellow-black glory. They were brandishing big sticks as weapons and were as surprised to see him as he them.


    -


    Both parties were locked in silence before each other. First had never seen hostile goblins before, but then again, the only goblins he had known about were his family, these ones could very well be hostile.


    The tension was cut when one of the strangers lost his cool and came charging with his club. Faced by three goblins against one First decided to flee. The others came running after him, however, his shoes did their work, while the attackers were left behind making awkward bow-legged jumps First could sprint away effectively.


    <hr>


    The room was poorly lit, thin streaks of light from between the blinds lit up the old man''s face. In this part of Earth he was the most powerful person around, who knew why he holed himself up in a dark office? At that moment he was receiving a paper pusher from one of his partner''s branch of the syndicate. Neither of them were speaking. The big boss was fuming great clouds of white smoke through the cramped atmosphere, his cigar emitting a red glow that was the only color in the darkly lit, monochromatic space.


    "I... uh. You wanted to see me?" Our hero carefully broke the silence, fearing the worst.


    His superior let the question hang in the air. Focusing intently at the figure on the other side of the desk. He was sizing him up, now was the time for a poker face.


    "Have you been doing anything about those troublemakers in your territory?"


    "That isn''t really my lane." It was technically true that he was not responsible for quelling rival gangs, there was a whole security detail for chasing away presumptuous upstarts and it acted independently from him. However, there was a more direct reason why he didn''t actively contribute to solving the issue. They were working for him. "I have my hands full with just the accounting and logistics of the cheap merchandise. I let Butch worry about the gang stuff."


    The syndicate leader stood up and turned around, to peek through the blinds. "I pride myself in being aware of anything that happens around me." He straightened his back to emphasize his own pride. "What Butch is dealing with is beyond gang stuff."


    "S-sir?"


    The man took another big drag on his cigar. He continued to talk while exhaling smoke unperturbed. "These kids.


    They know our business. They know where we''re selling and where we''re buying and they know how to avoid us. They have inside knowledge."


    What now? Do I act surprised?


    Instead of acting out anything he stayed neutral, leaning back slightly. Awaiting the boss'' next words.


    The old men glanced backward at him. "You know what happens when a younger chimpanzee attacks the alpha?"


    At those words he almost fell out of his seat. "Wh- chimpanzees?"


    The boss ignored his loss of composure. "You see it all the time in nature. Beta males challenging their leader for the position... of alpha male."


    He wasn''t sure if his boss was joking but he didn''t dare crack a smile at the weird tangent.


    "And the one that loses..." The man crushed his expensive cigar in his hand. "is banished. Cast out. Made to leave the pack." He was staring intently at the younger paper pusher now, who had quickly regained his poker face.


    "So what you''re saying is..."


    "We have a traitor in our midst. Someone is trying to overthrow the regime. Dethrone the alpha lion." He stared at the ceiling. "Perhaps multiple people."


    His heart was beating in his chest. It was floating in the air, unspoken but right between them, the accusation. He was the traitor.


    Come on then. Say it. Say my name. At least get it over with.


    The man did say his name, but the accusation never came. "I want you to be my eyes and ears. We need to put down this little uprising. I know I can count on you to do it."


    "Huh? I.. yes. Of course, I have quite some experience with interdepartmental communication and espionage. You can count on me to bring these people to justice, whoever they are."


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    -


    He walked out of that meeting not completely at ease. He didn''t imagine the suspicion above his own head had been completely cleared up and the fact that it wasn''t addressed was only proof of its severity.


    <hr>


    Scratch returned because he heard a commotion. He didn''t have it in him to hurry, since his facial wounds hurt when he moved, but he did have a feeling that that was where he needed to be at that moment.


    At the camp Drool was trampling out the fire to the great frustration of Quiet and Teeth. None of them where intelligible with how they were screaming over each other. The babies were noticeably agitated by the screaming around them.


    "Can''t you people get along for one day? I gave you cavemen the gift of fire, you''re civilized people now you know." Scratch proclaimed, stumbling out of the woods.


    As soon as he saw him Drool came charging at him, brandishing his knife. "FIRE IS HUMANS! MAIN GROUP COME!"


    Unable to judge the path and speed of the knife his father was thrusting at him Scratch fell backward trying to dodge it.


    Luckily, both Teeth and Quiet had grabbed Drool by the upper arms to stop him from murdering Scratch.


    "Hey! Hey. What the hell? What''s with the hostility? Did you burn yourself on it or what?"


    It was at this point that First returned. "There are other goblins. They''re... they attack." He said brusquely walking right past Drool to address Scratch. "Where''s the axe?"


    Drool was vindicated. He pointed at Scratch on the ground. "Your fault!"


    Scratch grabbed his head, it was all too much for him to process. "... I left the axe near the tree all the way back at the clearing. What is going on?"


    Teeth and Quiet let go of Drool, who had seemed to calm down.


    "Are they... coming here?" Teeth asked First.


    "I don''t know. We need weapon." First replied. "Is Yeller here?"


    "No." Teeth said. Yeller was still exploring.


    "Quiet, take them inside. Teeth, come with me." First was quick to take charge before Drool but didn''t yet dare give him orders directly.


    -


    Scratch helped shoo and carry the infants into the cave. Drool paced around in anger for a bit before helping too.


    "I''m falling into repetition, and I realize that. But what the hell is going on?" Scratch said, sitting on Drool''s mossbed.


    Drool pushed him off and sat down himself. "Goblins see smoke, Goblins go to smoke, find humans." He stood up again, having too much adrenaline to stay seated.


    Quiet was playing with Kicker and Biter to make sure they didn''t wander off, but he glanced at them to listen in on the conversation.


    Scratch contended with sitting on the rocky floor. "Humans are stronger than goblins." He touched his mutilated eye when he said that.


    Why would creatures as pitiful as this seek out their own biggest enemy?


    Drool was pacing around the cave, barely minding the infants while playing with his knife. "Women make clan strong.


    Become bigger." He grunted. "I had woman. I was take revenge."


    Scratch sighed, picking up the surprisingly smooth rocks in the deeper area where he was sitting. "But you used her up, no regard for her health. Say... did she have a name?"


    Quiet looked up at those words, he hadn''t considered such a concept for a human. Drool just looked impatient. "No matter. Is dead. Useless."


    "Quiet, do you hear that? Listen to him insult our mother like that." Scratch said. Quiet quickly looked away.


    Revenge. Who are you taking revenge on old-timer? Are the children here your best attempt at an army?


    Scratch suddenly had an epiphany. "I suddenly have an epiphany." He said. "The main group. You call them thatt because that''s your clan! They banished you and... you survived with a stolen woman."


    Drool didn''t seem ashamed or insulted at all by the accusation. In fact, he looked defiantly proud. "I come back. Become leader again. First get more goblins, then attack."


    "So we inherited a bloodfeud." Scratch moaned, leaning back. "You''re the worst, you know that?"


    Before Drool could put him in his place they were disturbed by the sudden appearance of three goblin silhouettes at the cave entrance.


    <hr>


    The three eldest brothers had returned, First was carrying the axe, which now had spatters of blood on it, and Yeller had a bruise on his forehead from somebody''s club. All of them had at least some wounds from battle.


    "Were you followed?" Scratch asked.


    "We fought." First said. "They flee."


    "They fled" Scratch corrected him.


    "They come back." Drool said. "With more."


    "We''ll fight back!" Yeller cheered, ignoring his injuries. "Right, Scratch?"


    Scratch could muster up less enthusiasm. "How big is the main clan?"


    Drool shrugged. "Lots and lots."


    "Okay, that''s helpful. Thanks for that. Do we even have time to prepare?"


    Drool didn''t answer, he looked into the distance, retreated into his own world.


    -


    Scratch decided to repeat what he had heard from Drool to the trio.


    "The main group." First said. It was something Drool had mentioned to him before.


    "And now they know we''re here." Yeller added, rubbing his chin in contemplation.


    Scratch had gotten up to pace around. "What if we leave? We could find a new place and let them explore an empty cave."


    Quiet, who had Slow sleeping on his lap, shook his head. Teeth explained. "Cave is only safe place."


    "The cave is the only safe place? Why? How?"


    Careful not to disturb Slow, Quiet drew in the dirt with a twig.


    It was a primitive drawing, to the point of being abstract, but the essence of a map was there.


    -


    In the center was the cave, the campfire and carcass were represented, as was the small open space around them.


    Around them was the forest, the use trails and streams were shown in the form of lines and were most definitely not to scale.


    The main point the illustration was making clear was the living area and territory of different kinds of animals. Stick figure representations of boars, deer and more predatory and alien creatures were sketched over the map. Notably, the area immediately surrounding the cave was devoid of such things.


    "So we can survive here because animals avoid the cave? How do you even know this?"


    Teeth laughed. "We looked around. You''re dumb for a smart."


    "Watch it." Scratch wagged his finger at him. "You''re the last one I want to hear that from."


    Yeller came between them. He didn''t say anything, he just blocked their argument with his body by standing inbetween them.


    Interestingly, there''s a mix of regular animals and fantasy creatures shown on this map. Well. We''re fantasy creatures too. I suppose I need to accept that this is a completely different world.


    <hr>


    "We''re going to need to hunt." First said. "And go to the water."


    Scratch looked out over the infants. They were sleeping contently now, but they would need to eat soon enough. And the pig''s meat was starting to decay.


    He clapped his hands. "Okay, here''s how we''re going to do things. Every time we go outside it has to be in groups of at least three. That goes for hunting, drinking and even just taking a shit, okay?"


    The older siblings all nodded, except for First, who had felt interrupted and narrowed his eyes at him.


    "Then I will be making more weapons. For hunting and for fighting back."


    "Will that save us?" First asked.


    "It''ll buy some time for a real plan." Scratch replied, scratching at his face wound. With the way the infection progressed, he''d probably survive another two days, enough to experience a violent invasion.


    This is just great. Like I don''t have enough problems. I can''t live peacefully with humans and now I can''t live peacefully with goblins either.


    <hr>


    The most useful tool Scratch had come up with was the simplest one. A sharpened stick as a spear. With it Yeller had managed to kill three ferret-like beings, making him the most succesful hunter of the clan.


    The composition of the hunter party changed from time to time, but the most prolific hunters were Yeller, Teeth and First. Scratch had begun calling them ''the military'' in his head.


    Of course a large factor in that was that they didn''t allow the young ones to wander off too far and Quiet was the best one to look over them, and that Scratch had a significant wound and was preoccupied with his toolmaking.


    After a day the young ones had grown up quite a bit, they were probably halfway toward adulthood. However, letting them play freely would probably cause a portion them to die to some animal or enemy goblin. Scratch very clearly remembered his own death defying first hunting trip and how his intuition had so utterly failed in assessing the risk.


    That''s why he had them help him braid rope.


    "If you twist it like this it would have to go against the grain to unravel. Do you see what I mean?" He was showing the process of turning softwood bark strips into rope to Dumb and Fat, who were dutifully paying attention and trying to copy his movements. Their own creations were pretty much just practice runs, but they were making progress and


    Scratch''s had created enough useful product by himself.


    The most important invention was the sling. By incorporating extra material when making the middle he had been able to create a flat pad at the halfway point in the rope that could hold a stone or pebble. He pulled on the ends of the weapon to inspect it, it was exactly as long as the space between his hands when he spread his arms.


    Perfect.


    "You two keep doing that. You''re doing well." He said as he ditched his younger brothers to test it out.


    He walked past First (the second one) and Slow, who were packing a makeshift wooden fence of half-buried logs and a weave of branches with mud, according to his instructions.


    He put up his thumb "Making progress!"


    But they were too focused on their job to notice him.


    Scratch had given up on a surrounding wall to protect themselves, if this little two-meter wide experiment was already this much of an undertaking. But it was good for keeping them busy.


    -


    He looked at a tree that he wanted to try to hit. He placed a pebble in his sling and started to rapidly swing it around, holding both ends in one hand. With every revolution the object amassed momentum, until he relaxed the strength of his grip and let the rope end without a knot slip out, which released the pebble and send it flying with skull-piercing speed.


    There was a loud noise, somewhere, but it wasn''t at the tree he had been aiming for. The target hit was a bush almost completely to the right of him, that was by how much he had missed.


    Did I make it wrong, or am I just a bad marksman?


    He was on his way back when he saw Biter getting up to him.


    The kid was direct and straightforward. "Water."


    "You''re thirsty, huh? Go ask who else wants to drink and we''ll organize an expedition."


    The little goblin nodded and ran towards his brothers.


    <hr>


    "A goblin attack? So late in the year?" Margaret showed a disproportionate amount of interest in the guild receptionist''s offhand command.


    "They called it a goblin attack, but according to their own words it was a single goblin, I''m afraid" She said politely.


    "But still, where there''s one goblin, there''s an army. Right?" Eagerly the adventurer pressed the issue.


    The receptionist dropped her polite demeanor. "Listen. During the winter month goblins die off, during spring their numbers boom and then we have the culling event."


    "But the-"


    "It''s one goblin that wandered off after his tribe died. That''s it."


    Margaret sunk back dejectedly.


    The receptionist looked up and down the adventurer. She seemed to be about a mid-level warrior. Not the type to go on world-saving missions but still someone head and shoulders above the common folk. She had become the number 1 subject of local gossip in the few days she''d been here, everyone knew her name. It wasn''t often that an adventurer of her caliber visited a place like Eston.


    "I get that it''s boring. But it''s your own fault for coming to such a low level region during the off season."


    Margaret made a croaking sound while circling the stains on the guild desk with her fingers. "I''m here with my partymember. He wanted to make a detour through where he grew up."


    "Your partymember grew up in Eston?" The receptionist asked. It was not like she had a lot of better things to do, seeing as she worked as a receptionist for the Adventurer''s Guild in the least adventurous city in the world.


    Margaret''s eyes lit up. "No. Do you know where he grew up? The woods. He was raised by the Hidden People! Isn''t that amazing? You know they say he was a child prodigy and that a goddess-"


    The receptionist tried not to roll her eyes as Margeret went into her rant. Up to that point she had looked up to the adventurer for her power and prestige, it was a bit dissapointing to see her gushing like that. This party member sounded like a Hero. It wasn''t like she hated Heroes, their culture was filled with things directly attributed to famous


    Heroes, like outdoor bathing, and various food recipes like mayonaisse. Plus, the world relied on Heroes to fight back the terrors of the abyss. It was just that their parties tended to be more like fanclubs than actual comrades. She felt some regret at having asked.


    "-bought both our freedom and exposed the baron''s son to the-"


    Margaret was still talking. She decided to interrupt her.


    "So he''s not here right now?"


    "Huh? Uh, yeah. You know. Can''t expose the Hidden Village, so I stay here while he goes upstream. He''s so responsible, did you know he left to become an adventurer when he was only-"


    The receptionist buried her face in her hands. This was a torment of her own making.


    <hr>


    "We can''t keep making these excursions." Scratch announced, when he had collected everyone.


    "They were your idea." First said challengingly.


    "Hunting is fine. Is hunting not fine?" Scratch looked at Yeller to confirm. Yeller gave a thumbs up and Scratch continued "Hunting is fine. But water is too important to restrict like this."


    "Well, I hope you have an alternative." First (whose vocabulary had grown considerably by now) responded.


    "Have I ever failed you?"


    "you made fire and enemy found us." Dumb said, like it was a pop quiz.


    "You''re growing up way too cheecky. This won''t be anything like that."


    "Tell us what you need." Teeth said.


    "I want to start up the fire again."


    The whole meeting erupted in talking and noise, Yeller and Quiet had to do their best to get everyone to calm down.


    Some distance away from the group Drool, who was leaning against the cave wall, was getting some joy out of the disruption. He had been getting the feeling that authority was slipping away from him. Scratch''s gaffe made him crack a smile.


    -


    "Ho now, guys. Listen. We needed cooked food if we''re going to survive anyway. And with fire I can make clay tools. Look."


    He motioned towards the clay his expedition had collected during the last water trip, they had travelled all the way to the river to dig it up and shape it into cups and vases together.


    "After it''s been fired it won''t go soft again and we can use it to keep a water reserve."


    The ones he had made the objects with in the first place, Quiet, Yeller, Kicker, Biter and Slow would be eager to see their own work pay off. But he needed to convince the other half of the clan. As the smoke from a fire endangered everyone.


    The older First demonstrably turned to look at Drool, who was still the leader. The rest followed suit.


    "No fire." The patriarch declared.


    <hr>


    Lifecycle of a dungeon


    Wyrm shards emit an evil aura that scares away mundane animals, therefore, weak monsters tend to collect around it to protect themselves against predators. Such a phenomenon is called a Monster Nest, the monsters in a Monster Nest are the weakest of their region. In low-level regions clearing out a Monster Nest is an F-rank mission, while in high-level regions the danger can climb up to C-rank.


    If a Monster Nest isn''t cleared by adventurers it will grow larger, eventually attracting stronger monsters that wish to feed on or rule over the smaller ones. At this point the area becomes a Monster Den, which is a bigger challenge to face and a danger to nearby settlements. Monster dens will send out raiding parties or scare away low rank monsters towards inhabited areas and cause chaos. Supressing Monster Dens is an important responsibility for which the Adventurer Guild was founded.


    If a magic using monster gains control over the Wyrm shard or the shard is possesed by an evil god a dungeon can form. The monsters will be organized to form a protective guard for the shard and the shard user will use its power to cast the surrounding land into shadow.


    There exist ancient dungeons. These were once dungeons that caused chaos in their surrounding area but their master was slain. Even though the shard is not used to its fullest extend anymore the dungeon was large enough for a stable monster ecosystem to form. Adventurers must occasionally enter these dungeons to find treasure or to prevent bad actors from activating the shard.

 Confrontation

    The preparations weren''t for nothing. After three days Kicker, Biter and Slow had to fight off an ambush of six rival goblins while outside the main camp. They hadn''t held back and had managed to kill the enemy, who had had a harder time fighting without footwear and with inferior weapons.


    However, Slow had been fatally wounded. All three of them were now adults for their species, but they couldn''t stop themselves from crying. First the second was devastated too, he had become attached to Slow the most of anyone.


    After that, they would continue to see and fight goblins when straying far enough from the cave for food and water.


    -


    The state of emergency continued for about a week, during that time Scratch''s condition deteriorated. He wasn''t able to see his own face, but he could feel it falling apart. The open wound had become infected and diseased, beside the pulsing pain he was now experiencing a dizzying fever and he was unable to move. The others had put him in the cave to protect him from the cold winds and occasional drizzle. While in this vulnerable state, lost in the throes of suffering, he could not answer their kindness with gratitude, only self-pity.


    -


    "Have you come to watch me die?" He turned his head towards the younger First, who he had begun to call Second.


    "I brought you these roots." The younger generation Goblin had become an adult in the blink of an eye and had already taken over Scratch''s proper grammar from his older siblings.


    Weakly Scratch forced himself to eat. He had taught the others about edible plants, even if currently fruit wasn''t available there were still plants with roots or leaves that could be eaten. He had been able to point towards artichoke and bitter root and the boys had discovered others by a method of trial and error. By eating plants they were able to keep their hunting to a minimum, but the raw fiber wasn''t very appetizing.


    "Will you die?" Second asked cautiously.


    "I will yes." Scratch sighed, looking up at the cave''s ceiling.


    "What can we do?"


    "You can''t do anything. It''s... this eye." He held his hand up to his mangled face, careful not to touch it. "The wound is dirty. It''s eating away at me, entering my blood."


    "If we go to the river? Can we clean your wound?"


    Scratch had explained this to his older siblings before. "No, the water here isn''t clean. It''s barely safe for drinking.


    It''s..."


    He had to stop. Too much agitation and he would hurt himself. Right now his stinging wound burned, as if to punish him for talking too much.


    He laid himself back down on the animal pelt. "Thanks for the carrots. Please leave me alone for now."


    He closed his working eye and tried to fall asleep.


    <hr>


    Currently there were 11 goblins in the tribe.


    * Drool, the alpha male.


    The warrior trio:


    * First, his oldest son and rival.


    * Teeth, First''s helper and subordinate.


    * Yeller, the number one hunter.


    The last of the old guard:


    * Quiet, a reserved but caring goblin.


    * Scratch, an Old Soul.


    The newest generation


    * Second, a formerly bright-eyed kid, cowed by the horrors of war.


    * Kicker, an hunter warrior.


    * Biter, a warrior hunter.


    * Dumb, a know-it-all.


    * Fat, someone that''s also there.


    Note that these names weren''t particularly descriptive, except for instances where the kids would choose to live up to them.


    -


    As it was now Drool had managed to instill some sense of authority on the younger generation. Scratch had elevated the group from a bestial existence to a primitive one, where they made and used their own tools and weapons, but he was weak and dying, so his authority was greatly diminished. Quiet was the one that had protected and taken care of them since infancy, but he was passive and easily silenced. (Besides, goblin childhood lasting only three days, it wasn''t like they had build up a lot of memories together.)


    First commanded respect for being on the forefront of taking care of everyone''s safety, leading expeditions and fighting off invaders. However, precisely because he was away patrolling so often with the other warriors it was Drool that ended up with the most time with the others to cement his alpha male status.


    Kicker and Biter especially had adopted the role of personal bodyguards and lackeys of Drool, something they enjoyed doing greatly.


    -


    Drool had to have a nagging suspicion of it and the others of the warrior trio were already aware, but First envied


    Drool''s position and wanted to take over. For that, he needed more popular support.


    Multiple authority figures in the lives of the younger generation needed to denounce Drool''s leadership. He reasoned that if there was consensus over Drool''s unfitness, leadership would fall to him by default. The subject of fire was an excellent talking point to raise for this purpose.


    "Do we have a chance without fire?"


    He had gathered more of his siblings than were necessary to take care of Scratch during a waking moment. Everyone except Drool and his bodyguards were around.


    A single bloodshed eye rolled listlessly around the room until it found First''s face. It was the eye of someone too retreated in their own world of pain to discern the intent of others.


    "No."


    "Then... shouldn''t we...?"


    "No."


    "Scratch?" The one asking that was Second, who had retreated more and more into the stench-filled cave that was


    Scratch''s deathbed after seeing his brother die. He had made up his mind to learn as much as possible from his older brother, before it was too late.


    "Ugh-Ah!" Scratch convulsed because of the pain before speaking again. "You don''t stand a chance either way."


    He closed his eye again. Not expecting his word to be challenged.


    "That can''t be true!" Yeller exclaimed, talking over First who was about to say something very similar.


    Scratch didn''t open his eye. "Did Drool talk about the split, ever?"


    "Yes." Second whispered.


    "That story is a lesson."


    It didn''t seem like Scratch was going to explain himself so First turned to Second.


    "What happened during the Split?"


    "That... well you see-"


    But he was interrupted by Dumb, who was eager to show his knowledge. "Drool was the leader first, you know? And the group was really big you know? But a bigger goblin came. And then HE wanted to be the boss and then-"


    "The tribe was split into two, the two groups killed a lot of each other." Second finished the story.


    "Yeah. But. They both want the knife. Right? Because that''s how you know the leader." Dumb interjected quickly.


    Scratch seemed like he was sleeping but he was fully conscious and thinking about the situation.


    This is how these wretched things have lived for generations. Everybody is killing each other because they want to be top dog. Not to different from street gangs actually, just a lot dumber.


    He opened his eyes and glanced at First again. "Nobody raised them correctly, they didn''t know how to deal with each other other than violence. Even now, the main group is a fraction of what it was. I''m not sure any are alive that remember what Drool or the ruler''s dagger look like."


    -


    Very softly, in a barely audible tone Quiet added to the conversation. "Why... can''t we all be friends?"


    "What?" Teeth was befuddled, either he hadn''t heard his soft voice, he didn''t know the word ''friend'' yet, or he just didn''t comprehend the sentiment.


    Scratch would''ve laughed if he hadn''t been in so much pain.


    -


    "Listen to me. First." Scratch grabbed First''s arm as he pulled away. "You can''t go around fighting for who gets to be the boss. Then the fighting will never stop and we''ll all end up killing each other too."


    First shook him off. "If this goes on, we will all be killed, no matter what we do." He then stamped out of the cavern furiously, Yeller and Teeth tottering behind.


    <hr>


    "Hey Margaret! Are you leaving?"


    Margaret had never seen the stable boy before, not that she could remember at least. But she had become quite the celebrity in Eston, so it wasn''t strange that he would know her name.


    "Oh, hi... uhh."


    "Ah! My name George. Sorry."


    "Don''t worry about it. I just wanted to make a quick excursion so I''m getting Lady. Can you bring her to me?"


    The boy had already opened the wide doors to the communal stable and invited her to follow him with a hand gesture.


    "She''s right this way, Miss. I''ve got to say, none of us had ever taken care of a pegasus before, she''s quite something."


    She followed him past the cells allocated for the horses of visiting merchants and adventurers, most where empty. At the far side of the stable a wider stall had been selected for Margaret''s pegasus, Lady, to accommodate for its wings.


    "I''m certain she''s used to much better conditions. I''m sorry she had to make do with a commoner''s stable."


    Margaret put her hand on the white winged horse''s nose. "I''m sure Lady can forgive you. Can''t you girl?"


    *Neigh*


    Lady breezed and turned her nose away in an offended matter.


    "Oh, come on missy. Can''t you go one week without an army of servants brushing your tail?" Margaret teased her while stroking her neck. "I have the feeling I''ve been spoiling you."


    "Uh.. Let me open up so she can get out." George said.


    At those words the intelligent creature stepped back to allow him the room to do so.


    "We have your special saddle right here in the back." He continued "I may not have seen a Pegasus before, but I know how a saddle works. If you take her to the front I''ll saddle her up."


    "Thank you. That''s too kind."


    "Not at all, it''s my job."


    -


    Margaret comforted Lady while she was being saddled by a stranger.


    "Just a few more days, okay? When Laurus is back we''ll go west again and you''ll be sleeping in Baron Chalmer''s red stables. Don''t you think that''s nice?"


    Lady whinnied as a response.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "Who''s Laurus?" George interjected. His familiar tone was starting to bug her.


    "Hmm? Oh. Just my future husband."


    She could almost swear she saw Lady roll her eyes at that statement. The truth was that Laurus was universally adored, and had yet to return the affections of anyone. Everywhere they went he would leave a trail of swooning hearts among rescued maidens, noble daughters and fellow adventurers. Because of her fear of being rejected by a man she held such absolute devotion to Margaret had never dared to confess her feelings aloud, if he were to find out she had referred to him as her future husband she would probably die of shame.


    "I-is that right." George said. "A nobleman, then? Or a fellow adventurer?"


    "Laurus isn''t just any adventurer. He''s a genius, a Hero. He''s going to be the youngest Rank S adventurer in history."


    "W-well. She''s all set."


    Lady circled around and posed with her golden saddle, which could hold a rider while doing acrobatic stunts hundreds of meters in the air.


    "You said you were only going on an excursion. Will you be back today?"


    "I... might. I might camp in the woods. That''s not a problem is it?"


    "Not at all." George panically waved, wanted to quickly dispel the idea. "We''ll be ready no matter when you return."


    "Well... see you then." In one fluid movement Margaret jumped up the animal and was about to take off into the sky."


    "Say... Margaret." George began. "This Hero Laurus, you''re going out to look for him. Right?"


    Margeret''s face became slightly pinker. "It''s... well. He didn''t say when he''d be back. But... it''s been a week now. So..."


    George smiled. "It''s nothing to be ashamed off. It''s normal for lovers to get anxious when they''re apart. I''m sure he feels the same way."


    "Y-yeah." She quickly flew off without saying much.


    <hr>


    Scratch woke up. It''d been a strange dream, he couldn''t remember what it had been about but it didn''t make much sense to him.


    While sitting straight up he wouldn''t quite tell whether he was still dreaming or not. There was an unnatural lightness to his being, the fever was gone and the pain from his wound was reduced to a muffled migraine. Somehow he knew death was closer than life.


    He stood up, there was nobody around. The cave was devoid of life and the lands outside the entrance were flooded with a piercing white light that drowned out everything and made it seem like the featureless white void where he had met the goddess.


    I wonder if I will see her again? Or if it was just a one-time thing.


    He turned his head the other way, there was the underground. He walked towards it. How strange that when the darkness had previously filled him with existential dread, made him look away and ignore the hole it now seemed so inviting. As he walked into the depths his goblin eye adjusted to the darkness and the organic nature of the cave walls was revealed.


    It looked like a tunnel dug by a worm, the walls showing spiral grooves and curving into a more-or-less round pipe.


    At his shambling pace it took some time for Scratch to reach the end, on his way there he encountered a change in ground type, the packed earth turned to shale at a certain depth, after which it turned into what he thought could be magnetite or hematite, high quality iron ore. Normally one would onlly encounter these things in the form of veins between more mundane silicon rock, however, the rust and gleam reminded him of nothing else. Occasionally he spotted a glistening of pure iron in the cave wall, like that which could be found in a meteorite.


    The tunnel continued through more rock types, gradually becoming steeper and going straighter down, until it eventually stopped where a cave-in had occurred some time in the past. Sand and other debris had poured into the cave and obscured the rest of the way.


    A dead end. What a lousy last dream.


    He looked around for something to happen or the dream to end but nothing came. So he was left with no recourse but to walk all the way back himself.


    When you''re in a bright tunnel, you go to the light. What am I? An idiot?


    -


    The climb back was less surreal, his surroundings were unchanged and exactly as they had been on the way there.


    Somehow he could feel the weight of a waking body return to him. When he stepped into the lived-in area of the cave he was a corporeal person.


    In the corner Quiet and Second were scraping an animal pelt. When they saw him they both stared at him in anticipation.


    He looked at the place he had been laying, half expecting to see his own body. It was empty.


    "Since..." He stopped himself.


    Quiet and Second didn''t say anything.


    "I have a plan."


    <hr>


    "Tax evasion?!" The police officer said incredulously and a little bit angry.


    "Isn''t that how they got Al Capone?"


    The person giving the smug rhetorical response was his informant (read: snitch) in the underground syndicate.


    "With this info..." He tapped the paper folder he had brought with him. "...all 5 heads of the syndicate can be put away for life. Any crimes they committed to get the money in the first place won''t add much meaningful to that sentence."


    "If the operations aren''t exposed we can''t stop them."


    "Hmm? That''s true. Does that mean you won''t be taking my offer?"


    The investigator balked at the criminal''s presumptuousness.


    The man made as if the grab the information and leave again. "I can understand perfectly well if your conscience is holding you back officer. Of course, this would make you a hero. I know you have political ambitions, so..."


    The police officer rough-handedly grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him back into the chair.


    "Now you listen, maggot. You''re nothing but a cog, alright? You''re a paper pusher and you''re messing with the big picture guys. You have no idea what''s going on."


    He got up intimidatingly close to the informant, looking to scare him into compliance. His subject fought back with a look of quasi-disinterest. Did he have an alternative buyer?


    "You''ll figure something out." He said without looking him straight in the eyes. "You''ll propose a deal for some pointed fingers. Isn''t that what cops do?"


    "You... you! Are you really selling out your comrades? Don''t you care about them?" He was just probing for a weakness now.


    Instead the sociopath gave him a fake smile, looking him straight in the eye. "I guess we''re all raised with different values."


    <hr>


    Quiet and Second had some trouble explaining the situation to Yeller and Teeth, in the first place because they didn''t really understand it themselves.


    In the mean-time the other younger goblins had gathered around Drool and First, who were having their first public confrontation over the issue.


    "This all just for you isn''t it?" It was a question as accusatory as it was vague, from First, directed at Drool.


    "Scratch help all of us. Help group." Drool, in his age, hadn''t seen fit to adopt the talking patterns of his sons and still spoke simply.


    "No. This group... you use us. Like..." He looked around trying to find the words. "...like we use what Scratch makes."


    Drool hesitated. He didn''t grasp analogy but he understood the emotion behind the statement, so he pointed his dagger at his eldest living son. "I am leader."


    First just spat at his feet. A sign of disrespect he must have developed independently. "It should have been you."


    -


    Scratch didn''t have the clearness of mind to pay attention to his surroundings. His bag-like footwear had been torn to shreds from everything he walked into and his legs were cut and grazed all over, particularly his feet. When he would notice the silhouette of what looked like his own species he gripped his new-made weapon and kept repeating the same lie.


    Through all of this he was retreated in his own mind, mulling over one question.


    Why am I doing this?


    In his old life he would never have sacrificed his life for others. Quite to the contrary, he had on multiple occasions thrown others to the wolves to serve his own purposes. Why now, just when it seemed like he had regained the strength to move by himself and maybe do something to avert his own death, was he throwing his life away? Maybe he didn''t have much to live for in this world anyway. Maybe the one thing he had dedicated most of his short new life to was about to be eradicated by outside force or inner strife.


    "Don''t go back." Was the last thing he had told Quiet. "Don''t let them become like Drool was again. P-preserve this... this knowing, this learning."


    Let that be my legacy at least. He had thought with it, while they were making the object.


    -


    Ivory was rather expensive in his old world and a big underground market existed for it. Not only because of its rarity, but because of its properties. Ivory can easily be carved into complex shapes without crumbling. With rust from the cave the color of poorly maintained steel could be replicated. Together these ingredients made for an outwardly convincing, but hardly functional, copy of Drool''s knife.


    That was the item so firmly in Scratch''s grasp while he recited the same thing to his captors.


    "I''m Drool. I''m Drool... I am Drool."


    Why am I doing this?


    Because they only ever wanted Drool.


    Because with this, the rest will be safe.


    Does that mean I have started caring?


    <hr>


    The main group lived in an abandoned mining town. Their number was in the dozens and their were several human women being held somewhere.


    A dilapidated human-made wall protected them against forest predators, for the most part. There weren''t any goblins being dragged off by wolves when Scratch was being brought in at least. In any case the wall was broken up by many rotten gates and collapsed sections so residents were able to freely go in and out from whichever direction they came.


    In the middle of the empty town a statue had been knocked over and its pedestal was being used to prop up a chair, making it a throne for their leader.


    Their leader was not a goblin. Not like any of the other goblins. To begin with, he was almost twice as tall as regular goblins, not average human height yet but certainly imposing for someone like Scratch. On top of that, rather than moss green he was closer to burnt orange in skin color and small horn tips where peeking out of his forehead.


    Behind him were more of his kind, stronger, better goblins that were being served by their smaller more numerous brethren. Food and water was brought to them in human-made bowls and cups and fed to them without them needing to stretch out their necks as they were lounging around on the ground, roofs and stairs.


    "Drool come back!" The leader spoke. He didn''t look nearly as old as Drool, but still tarnished by time and improper hygiene. "Drool give up."


    "Yes. Drool no can live outside. Want mercy." His impersonation of Drool probably wasn''t what would make or break the ruse, but it was better to be sure.


    "Give knife." The rival leader said. One of the fake Drool''s captors hurried over with the fake knife.


    "Now is clear!" The orange goblin said, raising the object into the air. "Horns is boss!"


    All goblins around cheered at varying levels of enthusiasm. There were more people in one place than Scratch had seen up till now in his new life.


    -


    Horns pointed at him. "Drool want mercy. Drool must beg."


    Scratch stumbled towards the throne, being kicked from behind and jeered at.


    He ended up at Horn''s callused and infected feet.


    "Beg." Was the order again.


    "P-please... let me live." Scratch managed to get out while cringing away from the smell.


    Horns looked at him quizzically. He didn''t seem to recognize his face, but he shrugged off the doubts and probably chalked it up to the face wound. Drool had to have been fighting wild animals daily, of course he would end up mutilated beyond recognition. At the appeal for mercy the goblin boss smiled evilly. He had specifically asked for this so he could respond thusly:


    "No."


    With a wide overhead swing he stabbed at the creature at his feet.


    -


    Scratch closed his one working eye. Even if it wasn''t the famous metal dagger the pointy ivory object would still kill him once it penetrated his face. However, he was completely calm.


    Who''d think I''d lay down my life for another? Well, it was forfeit anyway. At least I can protect the kids from this violence and bloodshed.


    It was at that point that his brothers came storming out of the forest in a cacophony of violence and bloodshed.


    <hr>


    The main group wielded clubs and stones, Drool''s sons were equipped with slings, spears and axes. On the village''s even ground their advantage wasn''t as big as in the forest but one of them was still worth multiple of the enemy.


    Horns was knocked against his throne and off the pedestal by a well-aimed sling shot from Biter. The other elite goblins immediately got up, throwing their attendants on the ground in their hurry to repel the invasion.


    The ranged fighters, Biter, Dumb and Quiet, stayed at a distance, guarded by the spear men, Second, Kicker and Fat.


    The warrior trio quickly rushed forward to encircle Scratch and protect him from the encroaching enemy goblins.


    Scratch glared at the weapon in First''s left hand. It was Drool''s dagger. "You bastards. What do you think I-"


    "Scratch!" Yeller screamed, not able to look back to his brother as he had to focus on the enemy in front of him. "We need you alive. If you''re willing to die for us. Please. Be willing to live for us. Okay?"


    "We can''t do it without you." Said First as he handed him the knife.


    Scratch took the thing without really understanding.


    "You said; if fighting makes you the leader, we''ll always be fighting." First explained as he grasped the stone axe with both hands. "Then maybe, helping others should make you the leader."


    That the ambitious First had yielded position of chief to him filled Scratch with an unknown sentiment he hadn''t felt in two lives. He firmly grasped the rusty knife and took position among his comrades in the upcoming fight.


    -


    The orange goblins were the elite force of the main group, most warriors were regular malnourished goblins. All-in-all there were seven elite goblins, including Horns, and close to thirty regular ones.


    Scratch''s sling-users had their hands full keeping the regular foot folk at bay while Scratch and the trio were focusing on Horns and his kind.


    Despite his painful new injury Horns thought he could rely on his human made sharpened weapon to win him the fight, but the fake weapon was quickly shattered with a parry from Teeth''s stone-tipped spear. Horns was the first to die.


    The others, though to a lesser extent, were also at a disadvantage due to their inferior equipment. They carried larger and heavier branches than their smaller cousins, powerful clubs that brought serious injury when they hit and were still painful when they merely grazed. However, Scratch''s edged weapons brought serious injury when they grazed and completely debilitated when they hit. Because of this, Yeller, who was dual wielding two smaller spears, was able to take a hit from one enemy in the back while focusing on stabbing another and turn around to skewer the legs of the first opponent.


    -


    With their risky and fearless fighting style the band of brothers managed to throw the enemy into disarray and give themselves room to retreat and escape.


    When Scratch and the others got back to sling users Quiet put down his sling and walked back to retrieve their secret weapon.


    "We had to fight Drool to make this." Yeller said grinningly as he stepped aside to let Quiet through with his burning staff.


    -


    Apparently they had managed to restart the fire back at the cave and had carried a long stick with burnable materials tied to the end all the way to the enemy camp.


    All Quiet had to do was let it drop and let the end fall on the heaps of dried leaves they had scattered in-between firing their slings. A wall of flame rose up between them and the enemy.


    If the goblins had had a more tactical mind they would have realized the fire wasn''t that intense and on top of that there were places were they could simply walk around them. However, for almost all of them this was the first time they''d seen fire and they didn''t at all know how to respond. So they stayed behind, as if the orange flames were an impenetrable barrier.


    <hr>


    With their target rescued and the enemy deterred the brothers wanted to make their getaway.


    However, First and Scratch were stopped by Second.


    "We have to make sure they don''t recover from this. Women are what keeps a tribe strong."


    When he explained that he didn''t want to steal the women, merely set them free so the main group no longer had them, the others agreed to the feasibility of the plan.


    Scratch was send back with the others after sharing the little information he had on the town''s layout, as this whole thing would be a wash were he to die now, and First and Second circled around to execute their mission.


    -


    The thing turned out to be exceedingly easy. The town was in chaos over the fight happening and the women were kept by Horn''s sleeping place, where he hadn''t trusted anyone as guard near them. So all they had to do was remove a barricade and shout some words of comfort and encouragement to convince the captives to make a run for it.


    <hr>


    Hobgoblin


    Family: Subhumans


    Threat Level: E


    Reward: 3 copper pieces


    Hobgoblins are the evolved form of goblins. They are mostly the same as goblins except that they''re stronger and more intelligent (they are able to wield rudimentary magic). Normal goblin nests usually do not have hobgoblins in them, when they do they will eventually turn into hobgoblin nests completely, clearing a hobgoblin nest is an E-level mission.


    When goblins and hobgoblins co-habitate the hobgoblins will rule over the goblins, as both are a species that values strength above all else.

 Waning Sunlight

    "I doth feel a presence of great evil approaching." The elf spoke from her couch.


    Barbara, sitting in front of the room''s one window, groaned. "Shut up Fi. We don'' wanna to hear that from you."


    "Barb. Please!" Their third roommate, Missy, admonished her. "Fiora, please tell me what you feel."


    -


    They were the three remaining prisoners of a goblin nest.


    Goblins are considered rank F monsters, they''re looked down upon by adventurers as not a threat, but for regular foot folk a large enough collection of them was overwhelming.


    All three of them had ended up the prisoners of these monsters as a consequence of underestimating them.


    The humiliation and shame of having their bodies so freely used by such low creatures was immense. But after years of confinement the shame had dissipated (or perhaps they''d gotten so used to it that they couldn''t feel it) and all that was left was an empty despair.


    -


    Missy stood up to approach Fiora and the elven girl grabbed her shoulder. "A presence that is damned by the gods. One that seeks death on our premises."


    "Good." Barbara said. "Maybe it can kill us."


    "Barbara!" Missy flared up in anger. "Don''t even joke about that!"


    Barbara only looked away with an annoyed look. Missy was the eldest member of the goblin wives currently alive, but she acted like the newest. Like she hadn''t gotten used to omnipresent death yet.


    -


    Before Fiora arrived there had been twenty women held in the village, some of them since childhood. It was almost every month that someone would die, used up by too many childbirths or caught trying to escape. In an uneven pace they would be replaced by newly captured victims. After Fiora birthed the first of her abominations the violence only started to increase. Fiora''s hobgoblins started a struggle for control, dividing the nest into factions. The wives were being dragged all over as prizes and weapons, getting caught in the crossfire of the goblin''s own inner strife.


    With the little civil war done there weren''t enough goblins left to easily replenish the stock of women, however, they were surviving. If they continued to make it through the winter so easily and evade the attention of Eston''s thinly spread adventurers they would no doubt grow to be a ravenous power once more. Stronger this time, with goblins evolved by the power of an elven mother. It would truly be better for the last of the wives to die, so this wretched evil could go extinct.


    -


    Their attention was peeked by the raspy and child-like shouting of goblins. More than usual it sounded like fighting.


    But after just a few minutes it stopped.


    "What was that?" Missy whispered.


    Fiora said nothing.


    From her window Barbara could see goblins running all over, they seemed lost and confused and scurried around to various directions in a panicky manner. She had long ago given up on trying to recognize which one were hers. None of them were hers, they had simply used her body as incubation.


    -


    There was a loud thrashing at the door.


    It wasn''t Horns this time.


    "The way is free. They can''t stop you now!" A voice called.


    None of the women moved. They had seen plenty of others lose their life trying to take advantage of a situation like this.


    What had the voice sounded like? It was coherent speech like they hadn''t heard from another living being, other than each other, for a long time, but it had the high-pitched quality of a goblin. No, not a goblin, a child. They hadn''t seen human boys in so long they had almost forgotten what they sounded like.


    Missy cautiously approached the door and gave it a push. With the old bookshelf removed it easily swung open. But their rescuer was nowhere to be found.


    "Are we going to do it? Are we going to leave?" Missy looked over her shoulder to the others.


    "I dunno about you guys, but I''m definitely going." Barbara said as she pushed her aside.


    The others hurried after her.


    -


    The goblins had fed them for years, despite their abuse they had kept them alive. In the forest there was no such guarantee, they would have to face monsters, bandits, and the elements and somehow find the way home. But none of them even considered the idea of staying among goblins.


    <hr>


    The brothers celebrated their victory with a feast. Fire had made a comeback and it was now being used for cooking.


    Trees chopped down with the axe produced the logs required for a blazing campfire and a flat stone slate from deeper in the cave was laid over it as a barbequing furnace. This hot surface allowed them to bake meat and vegetables for their celebration.


    Although previously it had been normal for the children to just grab food whenever they were hungry and their alpha male allowed them to, with the invention of cooking they shifted over to a single large meal eaten together daily. With some small miscellaneous snacks throughout the day.


    Although Scratch had sparked the initial idea for this furnace, the initiative and invention where all Second, for which he received a great deal of praise from his older brothers.


    -


    Scratch was still not healed. His fever had gone down but the festering eye wound was only getting worse. To him it seemed like the infection was slowly making headway, deeper into his skull. Braving the pain he was sitting near the others, listening to them talk over each other and watching them wrestle and chase each other. The food was served in bowls. Scratch had explained that when a clay shape is heated in the fire, to the point red glowing intensity, it becomes fired, with properties closer to stone than mud. These objects were now used to carry food and water. So the kids could freely take their plates with them as they spread out over the clearing and eat from them at their own pace.


    It was rather like a barbeque.


    -


    Scratch turned the good part of his face towards the sun to bask in its warmth.


    Is it me, or are the days getting shorter every time?


    Without him noticing it, Dumb had come up to him and sat down next to him.


    "You look worse every day."


    "Huh, what? Oh, it''s you."


    "It looks like it''s rotting off."


    "Thanks. That''s... that''s real nice."


    Dumb shrugged and took a bite out of a rabbit foot. "I don''t get why we saved you if you''re going to die anyway."


    These callous words made the corners of Scratch''s mouth curl up and reveal his teeth. "And yet you came along anyway." He smiled.


    "Uh, yeah. I mean. Yeah." Dumb''s antagonism was punctured and deflated and he was left with not much to say.


    "Thanks man." Scratch punched his shoulder playfully. "I''ll be sticking around for a few days. Get some things done before, you know..."


    They both went silent as they watched Teeth and Yeller play out their heroic deeds with imaginary weapons in front of the others.


    After some time Dumb spoke. "You told First that-"


    "Second First?"


    "Yes. You said if the water was cleaner you could wash away the bad stuff in your eye."


    Scratch hovered with his hand over his eye, wishing there was a way to scratch the itch without touching the painful wound. "That might have been too rash a comment."


    But Dumb pushed the issue. "Can you do that? Can you wash water?"


    "Well... you can''t wash it, but there are ways to clean it. You need to filter it, or better yet, distill it. But for that you''d need..." He touched his chin. They did have that, didn''t they?


    <hr>


    Their mother never had had a very elaborate funeral, in fact it could be said she was unceremoniously dumped in the woods. But now they were going to have to dig her up again. Scratch was interested in the fabric of her clothing.


    It was good being the alpha male. He simply send out Kicker and Biter to do the heavy lifting while he worked on extracting the iron from the cave wall with Yeller. Which consisted mainly of smashing it with stone implements until the nuggets fell out.


    The rest could continue their daily activities in supporting the group, which was now a lot easier as Scratch had taught them how to recognize edible plants and construct snares for small animals. It was only because of their deficiency in passing knowledge to the next generation that goblins had led such a primitive existence, in fact their memory was perfect and they retained information splendidly. Scratch too seemed to be able to easily recall random facts he had come across in his previous life in this goblin body, that was how he was able to help the tribe so much. Even when wilderness survival had never been his main expertise before.


    -


    After rinsing the human woman''s undershirt close to a hundred times (It had lain in the dirt for ages and who knows what Drool had done with it?) they cut it up and used it for filtering their drinking water. Although it removed the sand particles the water still had a faint yellow color. Not that anybody other than Scratch had ever seen cleaner water before.


    For the last phase in his water purification scheme Scratch wanted to reshape the iron into a metal bowl. However, the campfire would not burn brightly enough, the iron nuggets barely glowed brightly enough to be wrought into shape, never mind melded together into a larger object. So he recruited Second and Dumb to build a bloomery with him.


    <hr>


    With the ability to carry water they could wet the earth in front of the cave and shape clay there, so there was no objection to building the bloomery right next to Scratch''s workshop. It didn''t need to be a very good bloomery, just a clay shape for directing air and allowing for a fire hot enough for shaping iron.


    Together, under Scratch''s directions, the boys build a large conical shape, almost half their own height, with an entrance at the bottom leading into a small clay airway. They were able to blow air into the cone using a tree bark fan but still the fire inside didn''t burn at a high enough intensity. They made some small adjustments to prevent air escaping but in the end Scratch had to set his mind to creating charcoal for his fire.


    -


    A primitive charcoal kiln simply consisted out of a pile of small wood items covered in clay or earth with air holes at the bottom. The idea was that by igniting the wood while it was in such a covered up state one could drain it from all its moisture and carbonize it, turning it into a superior fuel.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    However, it was very inefficient and after dismantling the first one to get the charcoal out Scratch had to to remake it with more of their wood for another time. Both times the smoke creeped eerily out of the bottom of the kiln, bathing the ground in a gray mist that made the clearing look haunted. The others ate their meals some distance away in the forest while it was burning.


    <hr>


    Eventually it took them three days to fulfill Scratch''s vision, a hump of misshapen blackness, vaguely resembling a bowl due to the hole in the top. With some reheating and pounding it started to look more like something artificial, rather than a funny shaped rock. The shine of iron shone through in places.


    "Look at this you bunch of troglodytes. I have tamed the three states of matter." Scratch boasted to the ones happening to be standing around while putting the object, which he had filled with filtered water, on the campfire. Second was helping him span one of the larger pieces of cloth over it.


    "I should hope so. You rebuild our entire home." First noted.


    "What are the the three states of matter?" Dumb asked.


    "Very good question, Dumb. I''m glad you asked." He said, ignoring First completely. "The three states of matter are solid, liquid and gas. And, I know you didn''t ask this, but, the key to altering them is temperature."


    "Okay." Yeller said, then he thought about it. "I don''t get it."


    "Remember the iron?"


    "Yes"


    "Remember what we did with it?"


    "Put it in some fire."


    "Well sure, if you want to be reductive about it. But what we did was to raise the temperature. Turning it into a..." He waited for Yeller to complete the sentence.


    "What?" Yeller still didn''t understand.


    "Liquid!" Dumb exclaimed, eager to be the one to call it.


    "Right, 15 points to Hufflepuf. Or close enough to a liquid to reshape it anyway. After that, it cools down and it becomes a solid again."


    "So what about the third state?" First cut to the chase to get to the end of Scratch''s rant.


    "You''re looking at it." He pointed triumphantly at the metal cup from which thin wisps of steam were rising up. "With a material that can heat up so quickly and safely I have created a distillery that boils water into its gaseous form. Steam.


    Hopefully the various impurities in the water won''t travel along with it as it makes its journey up into the cloth."


    He got some wows from his brothers, but they weren''t really impressed until they saw the finished result, when he squeezed the distilled water into a clay bowl and they first laid their eyes on pure and clear water.


    <hr>


    The pure water ended up being a scarce resource. They refined the distillery a bit more, giving it its own place and fire and a basin for the product to slowly drip into, but they didn''t manage to produce enough for all their water needs and only drank from it. Cleaning their body and teeth was still done with regular and filtered water.


    Scratch was apprehensive about letting it near his face. His wound was too painful to even rinse and the distilled water was going to waste whenever he attempted to put it on himself but spasmed at the sting.


    Instead he spend the day grumbling and complaining about it, until First and his minions conspired to hold him down to forcibly clean it. They ambushed him when he came back from defecating in the woods, Yeller and Teeth grabbed him by the upper arms while First held his hair and assaulted him with a wet rag.


    The pain was intense as his throbbing eye hole was forced open and the dead tissue and dried blood was scooped out. At first he screamed, but after a few seconds he fainted.


    Kicker and Biter, who thought the their leader had been killed again, came rushing over. Yeller had to clumsily try to explain the situation while the other two rinsed out the last pus out of Scratch''s open wound.


    -


    When Scratch came by his face wound was cleaned out and his eye had been bandaged with the last usable cloth on hand. He looked around the cave, where everyone lain down to sleep.


    "Guys?" He said.


    "Yeh" Yeller said softly.


    "Thanks. Also, don''t ever do that again."


    "Okay."


    "Ever."


    "Okay."


    <hr>


    It wasn''t an illusion. The days were getting shorter.


    It was hard to estimate without time-keeping devices, but the time the sun was visible above the horizon was decreasing. If this world was in any way similar to his previous one Scratch estimated that their location had to be closer to the arctic than to the equator. Winter was coming, and it was having a significant impact on the hours of sunlight.


    -


    Over the past two weeks after Scratch had recovered the group had settled into a comfortable rhythm of hunting, gathering and developing amenities. However, as the temperature continued to drop their routine became disrupted.


    Animals were appearing less and less, plants became harder to find and more difficult to dig up and the well-digging operation Scratch had instigated had to be halted as the cold ground became too solid and snow started falling.


    At first everybody was delighted by the appearance of snow, including Scratch. Most of them had never seen the substance before. The boys were running around the clearing in front of the cave, which they had recently paved with shale tiles from the deeper tunnel, throwing snowballs, making forts and snow angels and playing around. However, they eventually noticed their fingers numbing and their green skin turning a more blue turquoise hue. A big bonfire had to be started for all kids to warm up and be saved from hypothermia.


    After that outside renovations had to be put on hold and Scratch set his sights on creating clothing.


    -


    Every one of them was still prancing around in the loincloths Drool had made for them. For some time now they had to huddle together during the night for warmth, but now even the days were getting too cold for going around uncovered.


    Scratch now had to reconsider his priorities and the role of clothing. Rather than a luxury for modesty or comfort, to be developed at some point in the future when other matters are taken care of, clothing was now a priority for survival.


    <hr>


    No more than the clothes on their backs. The words echoed in his mind.


    He rubbed his painful jaw, his old injury would flare up whenever he got tense.


    As he lit a cigarette for himself he let his eyes wander over his bulletin board, it had a map of the area with pictures of syndicate street sellers.


    "Who are you? Who oh who?"


    "Talking to yourself?"


    His partner in crime had come out of the shower, her body wrapped in one towel, drying her hair with another. He had almost forgotten she was there.


    He leaned back and took a drag on his cigarette. He blew out the smoke before speaking again. "Tell me, how much do we traffick in this neighbourhoud?"


    "How much? I don''t know, two million worth each year?"


    "Not our biggest operation then."


    She put her hands on her hips. "Not by a long shot... Why are we even here, getting into shootouts?"


    He held up two fingers. "Two reasons. First of all, we need to project our power. We''re acting without knowledge from the syndicate, so we can''t use their enforcers. If we want our runners to respect us, and I mean runners everywhere, we need to go out and whack dissidents ourselves."


    "And the other reason?"


    "Running is a scam. Who''d risk their life selling drugs for three bucks an hour? You make more flipping burgers at Mackie D''s. If we want to keep this operation alive, there can be no alternatives. The hood needs to stay a hood. Poor."


    "Yikes. Tha''s heavy. So we don''t just whack a kid for shorting us, we''re whacking ''im for giving back to the community."


    "Well... haha." He stood up. "They''re more similar than you think. Keeping the underlings under our thumb is always a priority, that''s how the business goes. You don''t let them rise up, that''s fatal. Once you gain control, you have to keep them down. I don''t want to see any schools, factories, or good houses here. The clothes on their back, that''s all I want them to have."


    She looked at the board. "But first we need to find out which of these pizza faces has been slipping our money to charity."


    He put out his cigarette. "Get dressed, you''ll catch a cold like that. After that we''ll go out and do some questioning, we''ll tell them if the perp doesn''t come to us we''ll kill his friends from social services."


    "Will we?"


    "I don''t know yet. Probably. Probably do it regardless."


    She walked off to dress herself. "You''re really draconic, you know that?"


    "Not draconic, darwinian." He called after her.


    <hr>


    Ivory is easy to carve, but bone will also do for the purposes of a sewing needle. Together with Quiet and Second, Scratch would thread thin rope through cut hide to produce robes.


    The military trio was the first to experiment with it, and they were very happy with it. They were able to venture all the way to river to spear fish.


    However, Scratch wanted clothing that fit the body more closely underneath, to minimize places for heat to escape. So he sacrificed hides they were using as bedding and furniture to develop shirts and pants. After some failed experiments and wasted material he succeeded. He and the other crafters were also able to put together better shoes, with actual soles, made out of plant fibers.


    -


    "Like humans..." Teeth muttered as he tested his movement in the attire.


    He didn''t look very fashionable. The clothing was held together by very obvious rope stitches and made up out of an eclectic arrangement of fur from various sources. But he did look more like a human boy, shoes, pants, a shirt and a mantle or coat to cover it all up.


    "Thanks." Scratch said, tugging at Teeth''s covering to see if it wasn''t tight or loose anywhere. "Humans are an advanced species. We''d do good to imitate them."


    "Hrrm." Was the response. He didn''t really agree.


    Scratch took a step back to address everybody, who were fitting and admiring their new clothing. "Guys. Yeah.. yeah.


    Looking great guys. Listen. Do me a favor and wear this when going outside in the cold okay? I''ll feel better knowing you all aren''t killing yourselves. If you''re willing to die, please be willing to live and all that."


    Frozen in place the others were waiting form him to continue.


    "Uh. That was it. That was all I wanted to say."


    As the kids went back to their business in their new clothes, chatting among each other, he almost slapped his forehead over what he forgot to say.


    "Oh. Right. No. The miners. We''re not digging today, I have a special project outside in the forest."


    <hr>


    The official mining group consisted out of Fat and Dumb with occasional help from First and bossing around from Scratch.


    Their purpose was to widen the tunnel and extract materials for the group to use.


    -


    To Fat and Dumb this was an lousy job. It didn''t seem to be praiseworthy in the eyes of the others and it was monotonous and strenuous work. So they were somewhat annoyed a being send underground.


    First had lived for longer than them and had other thoughts occupying his mind when working in the tunnel. He had to wonder how long this tunnel had been there. They had lived in that cave for countless days without ever letting their gaze fall on the other end of it. He didn''t know much about the world, but he knew that was not something that was supposed to happen.


    -


    The only explanation could be Scratch. The eternal enigma. The mad genius. He really was an anomaly. (These were not words First had in his vocabulary, but they roughly portray the sentiment he was feeling.)


    He felt that Scratch was opening paths for them that nature had kept locked out. There were many reasons why First had decided to hand the leader''s knife to Scratch.


    First of all, it was the only coup he could justify to his brothers, secondly, there was probably some truth to the idea that succession based on violence could only tear them apart.


    But most importantly, Scratch was special. It could very well be that this strange talking one-eyed inventor was given to them to grant them a greater destiny. If that was the case they had to follow the path he laid out for them.


    <hr>


    "Dumb and I have prepared some specialized tools. See if you can derive their use." Scratch proclaimed, as he gestured theatrically towards an array of smelted and shaped iron implements with wooden and clay frames and handle holding them together.


    "Just tell us." First said immediately.


    Scratch sighed. "Fine. I''ve invented some tools for us to make proper use of wood."


    "We''ve got no problems with fire, do we?"


    "Hush. Not fire. Let me explain it to you."


    -


    There were three goblin-sized hand axes with dried branches as handles and crude iron axeheads, a clay block plane with a sharp iron razor inside (a block plane being a tool for shaving wood and making it smooth) and a long see-saw.


    It had been a small adventure molding these metal parts into the right shape and sharpening them over a smooth stone, but as they were now their creator had faith in their usefulness. He had also brought the big rope.


    The big rope was the longest and thickest rope they had by a large margin. It had been a communal project to see how long they could make a rope, it was made up out of various materials, like bark, plant stem and hair and changed color partway through. What they had created had to have been at least 20 meters of sturdy rope and a few more of less strong material at one end.


    -


    Together they sought out an oak tree that wasn''t too far away from the cave or too big to cut down and Scratch proceeded to boss them around. He wanted to create planks and for that he had thought up a series of steps.


    First they had to cut down a tree, for this they used the long rope, to pull the tree down once it had been hacked through partway.


    Then, to strip it of its branches and saw off both ends to make them flat.


    The resulting round pillar had to be hewed into a square beam, it wasn''t the saw that was used for the part but the axes.


    Only after the lumber had been properly created like this could the saw be effectively used. And with it they would be able to saw the object into planks.


    <hr>


    They only came halfway through hewing before everybody was exhausted. They had kept their shirts on but had removed their cloaks due to the building heat of the exercise.


    "Don''t slow down now. We''re halfway!" Scratch said as he took over for Fat who had been the one going longest without a break now.


    "I don''t want to anymore. Can''t we finish tomorrow?" Dumb complained, lowering his axe.


    "We can''t finish before dinner anyway." First agreed.


    "Quiet is making soup!" Fat said. (The bowl at the center of the distillery would occasionally serve as cooking kettle so they could make use of rest meat on the bones of slaughtered animals.)


    "Well. Fine. Since I''m in the minority. But we''re really going to finish this tomorrow. I want to do this with multiple trees."


    -


    Despite the unfinished work the four goblins went back with a sense of accomplishment in their chest.


    Life had improved since the days of Drool. When they had been born the cave had been the stinking hole of a recluse, now it was filled with hides. The patch of empty earth in front of it was paved with elegant stone and furnished with various workplaces for bleeding and carving animals, purifying water and creating weapons and tools. At the center was even the beginnings of a well.


    They would be slurping their soup with dignity and pride. Satisfied in the midst of their accomplishments.


    -


    This peace of mind would be shaken up the next day when they went back to the lumber site to find a pack of strange goblins.


    <hr>


    The World


    The world is made up out of six layers, or planes.


    The highest plane is the astral plane, the realm of the gods. It is unreachable by mortals, the stars are forever beyond our reach and understanding and we know very little about it. Only the names of the gods that reside there.


    Below that are the heavens. Sky serpents reside here, as well as the floating islands of the Lost Civilization. There exist skyships with the capability to reach this height, but it is rarely visited for any reason other than adventuring.


    The third plane is the overworld, the home of humans and elves as well as the majority of evil races. The lands are divided into the 5 nations, and the seas (sometimes referred to as the 7th plane) belong to sea serpents.


    The fourth plane is the underworld, home of dwarves. A complex system of caves and caverns with no comprehensive record of its geography. The 5 nations have no authority here and generally only adventurers make the descent.


    Below the underworld is the abyss, a large connected cavern held in place by ancient titanic pillars. It is the home of demonkind, the place from which they''re summoned and to which they''re banished by magic spells.


    The lowest plane is hell. A sea of magma filled with epic level monsters such as magma wyrms and fire demons. There have been instances of demon kings making this their home.

 Houseguests

    It had been three summers since Horns had taken over the tribe. Twelve since Scream had been born. He couldn''t remember how long it had been since he had had to spend a winter''s night outside.


    When Horns had taken over he had been dissatisfied. He had managed to survive by staying in the background and not speaking up, but in his heart he had felt hatred towards the new bigger goblins for replacing them. However, now Scream longed to return to that time of safety and warmth.


    After Drool had returned and killed Horns he hadn''t stayed to take back the tribe. He probably didn''t have enough sons to take over rulership, so he had settled for simply destroying it. Even Scream had understood the situation to that level.


    Without the women there was no future. Every day wolves and bears would saunter past the walls, attracted by the smell of blood, and if they would not kill goblins then thy would at least steal their food. There was no way to replenish those numbers and build up replacement defenders after the big goblins had been killed. Eventually they had given up and ventured towards the territory of fear that Drool''s group lived in, to escape the predators.


    There were eight of them:


    Scream


    Laugh


    Kicker


    Scratch


    Last


    Another Last


    Growler


    And Small.


    All of them were of an age comparable to Scream, except for the younger Last, who had only seen one summer.


    None of them had been afraid of Drool''s gang. It wasn''t typical for goblins to know fear until death had its icy claws firmly around their neck. However, if they had predicted the snowfall and drop in temperature they might have reconsidered leaving the relative shelter of their old home''s delapidated human houses.


    The night was overcast, so dark that even goblins notice it. Most of the refugee pack had lost hope, to the point that they weren''t even complaining anymore. Their hands were cold and numb, their feet were too but also cut and bleeding from the unfriendly forest floor. It was hard to keep moving when the icy wind made them shiver even under their loincloths and their day-old hunger sapped their strength. Still, by Screams insistance they kept dragging themselves forward, until they''d stumble upon some sort of miracle that could save them.


    Kicker and Scratch, both named by comepletely different fathers at completely different times, for attacking them during birth, where giving support to Laugh, who had hurt himself fending off a furry animal.


    The two Lasts were together. The older one looking out for the second one. They stayed by each other''s side so there wouldn''t be any confusion when anyone called their name.


    Small would stick by Scream''s side in the front and Growler would stay in the back, as rearguard but also to be away from the others.


    Eventually they just collapsed. When Kicker ran out of energy and fell to the ground the others were reminded of their own fatigue and sat down too.


    "We... die?" The younger Last asked.


    "Yes." Scream said, too tired and cold to even feel despair.


    Nobody talked after that, they sat in the snow and let their bodies become numb and unresponsive.


    Scream thought about how there would be nobody left that knew who he was, and how he might as well have never existed. He looked at Small, who was already losing consciousness while clinging to his arm and closed his eyes to let death take him.


    <hr>


    Scratch whistled a tune as he led his compatriots through the snow.


    Nobody else was in a particularly good mood. It was cold, they had only just woken up and the novelty of handling wood had worn off the day before.


    First had send Yeller in his place and Yeller had a terrible time waking up, he was basically sleepwalking and had to be led by the hand by Fat.


    When they arrived at the half-carved tree they were greeted by a thick layer of snow covering their equipment and more than half a dozen frozen goblins huddling away from the substance underneath the lumber.


    "W-what!?" Yeller yelled, instantly awake.


    Scratch ignored the immobile goblins and went on to brush away the snow with his sleeve. "I think we can just continue hewing, the snow shouldn''t get in the way much."


    "And the outsiders?" Fat asked.


    "Hhm? Oh, two to three hours I''d say." Was Scratch''s answer.


    "Until they die, is what he''s saying." Dumb explained, his eyes narrowed at the leader''s back.


    "Scratch, we can''t ignore this." Yeller pleaded as he draped his own cloak over two goblins huddled together.


    "I think it''s pretty easy to ignore it actually. It seems to me they''re dieing a peaceful death."


    "These are our enemies you know, they''re part of Horn''s group." Dumb added to that.


    "Fat, you''re with me on this aren''t you?" Yeller said. "We need to help them."


    "And then what?" Scratch said, annoyed. "Take them in? We barely have enough food for ourselves."


    "We can handle them one night, until they can move again."


    "The last time outsiders found out where we lived we had to fight for our lives and two of us died!" Dumb yelled angrily.


    "I... uhm, I..." Fat stammered, trying to get a word in edge-wise between the arguing brothers.


    "Yes. Fat." Scratch declared. "What were you going to say?"


    "I think we should help them... please."


    Scratch thought about it and then said "Fine. Since Fat never makes any requests and always eats his vegetables we''ll do what he wants this time."


    Yeller exhaled in relief, Dumb rolled his eyes.


    <hr>


    "Are you ready?" He asked his partner in crime while adjusting his tie.


    "I mean, sure? Is it really such a big deal? So Frankie becomes a partner, so what?" She was checking his make-up in the hallway mirror.


    "It''s a big deal making partner you know. It means you''re part of the family. You and me, we''re just employees, after tonight, Frankie''s a member. It''s a big event."


    "Yo, hold up. We''re not members of the Syndicate?"


    He gave her a theatrical sigh to tease her.


    She gave him a playful jab. "No, but really, we''re not?"


    "Being a member is not nothing, members are protected. Say somebody kills a partner, the Syndicate would string ''em up on the public square, along with all their family. So nobody dares, see? One of us dies, they shrug."


    "I get it... we''re second class. They have an excuse not to look out for ninety percent of their people."


    "Go anywhere in the world and it''s the same. There''s the core organization, the family, and all the rest, the outsiders. It''s basic gang infrastructure, I should get you an org chart sometime."


    <hr>


    Scream was vaguely aware of the piece of cloth over his shoulders, but he didn''t realize he was getting warmer until much later.


    His eyelids let through an orange flickering and he opened his eyes to stare into a blazing fire, he fell backwards in shock, dragging Small with him.


    All around him mocking laughter erupted.


    "Welcome back to the land of the living."


    The fire, the flat stone underneath him, the strange speech with too many words. This could only be the work of humans.


    He checked if he hadn''t hurt Small and then looked up to address those around him.


    He still wasn''t sure they weren''t human. Their skin was green and their stature small, but they were clad in leather and fur and working various tools in the square around him. They all seemed like newborn, clean and healthy, showing wide smiles of barely browned teeth.


    Scream was to dumbfounded by the bizarre sight to speak, so one of the clothed goblins spoke first.


    "You were lucky our brother took pity on you. I''d have killed you."


    "You... Drool''s sons?" Scream managed to get out.


    "My name is First." The goblin said, nor answering the question. Then, when another goblin handed Scream some sort of earthenware cup with water, First continued. "Drink up. It''s best to warm up from the inside. Right, Quiet?"


    The goblin that had handed the water nodded and answered imperceptably softly.


    Scream tried to pour the warm water into Small''s mouth.


    "We''ll see how many of you wake up." First said. The various furs around the hearth were the bodies of his fellow refugees. All of them were accounted for.


    Laugh and Scratch, Kicker and Growler, the two Lasts. Even in the flickering unfamiliar shadow of artificial fire he could make them out by their size and the backs of their heads.


    Not just his body was thawing, his emotions became fluid and poured out of his eyes in the form of tears.


    <hr>


    "Almost there, Dumb." Scratch encouraged his brother.


    They were laying their hands on the last planks, shaving off the frayed edges to make it smooth. It had been an ordeal but the results were plentiful, more planks than the kids could carry by hand. It made sense, it had been an entire tree beforehand. Yeller and Fat had already gone ahead to drag the previous finished products back to the cave one a sled of rope they sometimes used for gathering branches.


    "Do you even care?" Dumb said, not looking up from his work.


    "Hm?"


    "About the outsiders."


    "Caring too much is bad for your immune system Dumb. The new kids are a good distraction for First and the others."


    "A distraction... Jeez."


    Dumb had only heard that word in the context of distracting the enemy in a fight before. He wondered if Scratch was planning to surprise them with something while their backs were turned.


    "I say it''s about finished. How about you and I go back home and receive our thanks?"


    "Thanks for what? Flat wood?"


    "You''re always so critical of me. How about you wait and I''ll show it off? No, better yet, devote your time during our way back on thinking over uses for planks."


    <hr>


    Instead of planks the topic of the day were the six surviving outsiders.


    Apparently one of them was also called Scratch, which was just so hilarious to Yeller that he had to mention it to everybody.


    "Scratch, hey. Hey, Scratch."


    "Kind of busy carrying stuff here, Yeller."


    "Guess what that guy''s name is."


    Scratch took a disinterested look at the shivering goblin being cared for by Quiet and watched over by Teeth.


    "James Earl Jones."


    "What?" Naturally, the joke didn''t land.


    "I give up, what is it." Scratch said as he and Dumb placed the planks with the others, not too close to the fire, but not too far either.


    "It''s Scratch too!"


    "Wow. That''s amazing." Scratch said completely unamazed.


    "Hey Dumb, guess-"


    "I was here when you said it to Scratch. I heard it."


    Yeller and Second quickly filled in the last two siblings on the outsider situation.


    The first one to awaken had been named Growler. He was a stoic loner type that didn''t ask about the well-being of his fellow refugees. First was suspicious of his character and had asked Yeller to keep watch over him.


    "I am still watching him. Just. You know, out of the corner of my eye. He''s right there, away from anyone else. Now, Scream, Scream woke up next-"


    Scream was the unofficial leader of the group. He was the best talker and the others would look to him before responding to any questions. He was cradling Small, a shorter, shy goblin that had woken up but hadn''t said much. The assumption was that he was defective in some way, but it went unspoken.


    There was another Kicker here too, but apparently that wasn''t as funny to Yeller, who interacted more with the older generation anyway. That Kicker was consoling a goblin called Last, while the other Scratch had just woken up and sat alone.


    There were two dead. In life they had been called Laugh and Last. The first one had already been injured by a fight with some animal and the second one had protected his younger namesake from the coldest winds by shielding him with his own body. Apparently the surviving Last was supposed to be very young, that is what Second had understood from Scream.


    <hr>


    "Well then, we can''t keep that fire going forever. Time to get to work guys." Scratch cut off the story.


    "I thought you said this wood wasn''t for the fire?" Said Fat.


    "I did. Kick and Biter can use these leaves to varnish the planks with that tar I prepared."


    Scratch was going great lengths now not to explain what he was trying to do until they got to see the results.


    He quickly decided on the following taskforces;


    Security: First, Teeth and Yeller were by the outsiders to keep watch over them.


    Material preparation: Kicker and Biter were in charge of coating the planks in tar and ash, preventing future rot.


    Stolen novel; please report.Site preparation: Fat and Dumb were led by Scratch in making adjustments to the living area of the cave.


    Special: Second had become adept at developing finer tools, so he was put in charge of Scratch''s special project involving wood ash and water.


    Quiet had to take over for regular household tasks during all this, like skinning, butchering and cleaning.


    The sun was about to set and the bonfire about to go out when Scratch was finally happy with the preparations.


    "Could somebody retrieve the bricks? We''re going to put in the foundation now." He announced.


    The aim of the plan was becoming clear.


    In the holes they drilled in the cave wooden beams could be inserted, the so-called ''foundation'' of the project.


    If the planks were to be affixed to these to form flooring and walls, a structure not unlike the interior of a human house would be the result. Something that can keep the warmth inside on a cold winter''s night.


    The outsiders looked on in amazement as beneath the ash of the fire that saved them fired clay bricks were retrieved by the material preparation taskforce.


    The first row of bricks in front of the cave were lain in a trench chiseled out by the site preparation taskforce. On top of that they smeared the special mixture prepared by Second as the special taskforce. The wood ash had worked as a binding agent and held together ground up rock, it would attach two bricks together and become hard as stone when dried. It was cement.


    <hr>


    Building a wall and laying a floor would be a labour-intensive task, so Scratch recruited everybody into the newly christened Home renovation taskforce.


    "What if Scream or Growler does something?" Teeth said with genuine trepedation.


    "You can watch over them while they work, I''m getting them in on this." Scratch said resolutely, although he had only just decided it. "Hey you!"


    "Us?" Scream said. He had heard his name but the cave goblins spoke too fast with too many words for Scream to properly make out.


    "Yeah, all of you. Time to earn your keep, go help Kicker and Biter with their planks."


    Although still hurt in places from frostbite and blisters the surviving outsiders were completely capable of moving around right now. It didn''t take much convincing from Scream for them to join in and follow Scratch''s orders. Even Growler, who didn''t trust them, still understood that it was better to do what their captor told them to.


    <hr>


    And so it came to be that by the time everybody got hungry the home was almost completely done.


    In front of the cave now stood a red brick wall, the bricks were different sizes and shifted around when the cement still wasn''t dry and the thing had to be held upright by two wooden supports. In the middle was a small door opening with an arched support above and some metal to protect against collapse.


    The inside was smaller now, with a crawlspace behind the planks, which where affixed to wooden foundations that had been driven into the cave wall.


    They hadn''t used nails but wooden wedges, when hammered into a narrow hole these objects would become wedged tighter and tighter until they were as secure as any nail. They used them to secure the planks and in various places they stuck out of the wall inelegantly.


    All in all it wasn''t a clean and straight house, but it was safe and served its function.


    Quiet had left the construction a bit earlier to start cooking and Fat had jumped at the opportunity to leave too by offerring to help.


    They had had to cut into the reserves in order to prepare enough for this new, bigger group.


    "Will it be alright, the food?" Fat wondered, remembering that he had been the one that had gotten the outsiders in.


    Quiet answered, very softly as always. "It will be alright for now. For tomorrow, we will make a new plan."


    The meal of the day was a thin soup of minnow and wild cabbage.


    There was still one corner of the room that hadn''t been walled up and Second couldn''t bear to stop working until that eyesore was fixed. Everybody else was fine taking a break and eating.


    "Second. Stop." Quiet said, his voice not audable above the banging of Second''s hammer against the wedge.


    "Your food is going to be gone." First said.


    "As the leader, I command you to stop and enjoy a meal with our guests." Scratch said, waving the knife of authority around.


    Their protest left him with no recourse but to comply and eat his meal.


    "it''s all right, you can eat." Scratch said to Scream and Small, who were sitting in the same circle as him.


    Because of the sheer number of goblins occupying the now smaller cave interior (with the outsiders they were 16) there wasn''t room to make a single big circle, so they split up into various small cliques.


    "Here everybody eats at the same time." Yeller added to that, remembering Drool''s insistance on showing the pecking order this way.


    Timidly the two outsiders began to slurp the soup out of their crockery bowls. They had gone a long time without a proper meal so once they got a taste they downed the liquid greedily and emptied their bowls within a few heartbeats.


    "You the leader?" Small asked Scratch, after catching his breath.


    "Sssh!" Scream reprimanded him for asking questions.


    "You''re asking whether or not I AM the leader? Well I am, and this proves it." Scratch said carelessly and dangerously waving the dagger around.


    "Scratch. Wasn''t that a secret?" Yeller said, referring to Drool''s death.


    "Eh, I don''t see why it makes a difference. Besides..." He turned to Scream and Small. "Your group has been disbanded hasn''t it?"


    Scream looked down into his empty bowl. "No more women. Goblins go away."


    "Hmm. That''s interesting. Yeller. Can you make out what he''s saying?"


    "Isn''t it obvious?" Yeller smacked, a fish tail coming out of his mouth as he talked. "Without a mother the group couldn''t survive."


    "It wasn''t obvious to me, so I''m glad I have you as a translator."


    "Thank you."


    "Because you''re fluent in simpleton."


    "... Well. I don''t know what that means so you can''t insult me with that."


    "Hey. Hey!" Small was trying to get Scratch''s attention. "Where your woman?"


    Scream stiffened.


    "Trying to get our secrets, are you?" Scratch said teasingly.


    "H-he not planning anything." Scream said quickly. "He... Drool''s..."


    "Where your woman?" Small insisted.


    "Anybody up for seconds? There''s probably still some in the bowl." Scratch said, turning around and gesturing towards Quiet.


    Quiet gestured back that if he wanted more he should come get it himself so he got up and left.


    <hr>


    "But who is the best at it?" First teased.


    Both Kickers stood up immediately to show off their kicking strength.


    "Hey. HEY! Not here!" Scratch said when they almost knocked him over in their sparring as he walked by. "Go do that outside."


    This left only First, Teeth and Last at the old moss throne together.


    Last gulped, he felt the eyes of Growler, who was standing by himself in a corner and had barely touched his food, pranging in his neck.


    "You''re enjoying that soup?" First asked, now that he had the youngest of the outsiders alone.


    "Y-yeh." Last tried to smile.


    "We had to work hard for that food you know?"


    "Yeah. We did." Teeth added, to have said something.


    Last looked down.


    "There''s not a lot of food around now that it''s getting cold, you know?"


    "Yeah. Yeah." Teeth agreed again.


    "You should know some others that have food, some other place."


    "Uh..." Last was apprehensive. He had following every instruction of his older name-mate up till now and didn''t know what and what he wasn''t supposed to share.


    "Nobody will mind." First said.


    "You should repay us." Teeth insisted.


    "Ugh" Last tucked into a ball and covered his face with his knees.


    "Do what we tell-" Teeth was about to raise his voice and grab the outsider but First pulled him back just in time.


    "You don''t want us to starve because of you, do you?"


    Last stayed silent.


    "If you''re helpful, Scratch might let you stay."


    This last comment peeked his interest and he shyly looked upwards from between his knees.


    "Stay?"


    "Maybe. If you can help us."


    The exchange of information was interrupted by commotion coming from Small and Yeller.


    They were arguing about a woman, or women, and Growler quickly joined in to make it a cacaphony of three children talking over each other.


    <hr>


    "You know. You wanted them here." Scratch said to Second who was sittting near the pot alongside Quiet.


    Fat didn''t want to argue with him so he just avoided eye contact.


    "I suppose as the leader I should go back and pull them apart, shouldn''t I?"


    Quiet nodded.


    "I was afraid of that."


    "Scratch is leader?" Said the outsiders'' Scratch, who was also there, as he left.


    "Eh..." Said Second, mimicking a shaky handmotion Scratch sometimes made to indicate a lack of complete confidence in a statement.


    "Eh?" The two-eyed Scratch questioned, mimicking the motion unsurely.


    "Not like Drool was a leader. Drool would... Drool would just want us to get him things."


    "Yes." The other Scratch nodded, with a nostalgic look on his face.


    "You knew him?"


    "Drool was leader of us before."


    Quiet whispered to Second. "Drool was chased out by Horns, but he kept the leader''s knife. He was their leader once."


    Two-eyed Scratch thumped his chest. "Drool make me. Give me name."


    "Did you like him?"


    "He was boss."


    "I see."


    So that''s the extend of their bond, then. Second thought.


    But two-eyed Scratch looked at him very seriously. "Boss is strongest, Boss get stuff. That what make him boss."


    "In that case, I suppose Scratch isn''t our leader. He only wants what''s best for us. I think." He smiled. "I think that''s much better than having a boss."


    <hr>


    "What''s with the commotion over here?" Scratch said in an authorative tone of voice after handing Small a half-filled bowl of wet cabbage.


    "Com-motion?" Small cocked his head at the word.


    "It not true." Growler growled. "You hiding them."


    Yeller tried to explain "I told Small we didn''t have his... uh"


    "Mother?" Scratch suggested.


    "Anyway she died and we haven''t had any women since."


    "No woman no group." Growler spat into Scratch''s face, bringing his face close to his, the rankness of years of substandard dental care eminating out of his mouth. "Goblins die. No new goblins. No more fighting."


    "Okay, first off..." Scratch put one hand against the wild goblin''s bare chest and showed his knife with his other hand. "Personal space. One step back. At least."


    Only when Growler begrudgingly obeyed did he continue.


    He spread his arms and adressed the whole room. "If you don''t believe it, don''t believe it. I don''t care. But any more aggression and you''re going to have to find another hotel. I hope that''s clear."


    "You know..." Yeller said to Growler, when things had calmed down. "We''re different. We''re the goblins that don''t die."


    "Speaking off..." The leader proclaimed, his mood suddenly switching. "If you''re all finished. I think it''s time to clean up."


    By now the cave goblins had gotten so used to Scratch''s hygiene standard that they had stopped thinking about it as a special ritual.


    However, the outsider goblins were all baffled by the process.


    First they scrubbed their teeth using frayed twigs and drinkable water, removing foodrests and invisible impurity.


    After the commotion of earlier Scream had tried to participate in the ritual but touching his browned teeth this way was rather painful to him. Only Last of the outsiders was able to brush his teeth without causing agony. Growler hadn''t tried in the first place.


    Then they washed their hair and bodies. The slightly less purified water was used for this and they were told that earlier in the year they would do it in the river. This conversational topic led into the relatively youth of the cave goblins.


    <hr>


    Freshly scrubbed and cleaned the goblins were ready to crawl under the sheets.


    In the previous days they''d gotten used to bundling up, shivering, under the same pile of hides.


    However, the renovation of their home was nearly completed. There was still an unfinished corner from which cold air could invade but the facade in front was finished, it had a thick boar''s hide covering the entrance and a place for a fire to be made and from where smoke could escape from through a brick tube, or chimney. So the home was comfortably warm.


    As such the goblins could sleeps a comfortable distance away from each other. And that they did. The house floor was a chaotic mess of randomly spread out goblin bodies.


    Scratch didn''t spend much time thinking about living arrangements and procuring food. They had managed so far and his plan wasn''t to keep the guests around forever, after the night was over they would be send on their way, loincloth and all. So he simply let his mind go blank and drifted into sleep.


    However, Second wasn''t on board with his plan to get a good night''s rest. In the middle of the night he poked and badgered his elder brother to get him to wake up.


    "Scratch. Hey, Scratch... Scratch." He whispered.


    Scratch held still as if it hadn''t worked, hoping the boy would give up and go to sleep.


    "Hey. Scratch. Scratch, hey. Wake up!"


    "Aagh! What?" He sat up straight angrily.


    "They''re gone."


    "What?" He was tired and didn''t want to spend energy thinking about what Second could be referring to. "What''s gone?"


    "First and the others. They left."


    <hr>


    Banditry


    Two of the types of missions adventurers can take are a bounty hunt or a bandit suppression. Both deal with those engaged in banditry. Bandits are outlaws that attack law-abiding farmers and merchants for their goods and money. They can form bandit camps in the untamed wilds to escape justice and band together, except in an emergency it is usually the military, and not adventurers, that takes care of these camps.


    Rarely a mission may involve bringing back a bandit alive for information-gathering reasons, but generally bandits are preferred dead.


    Because bandits tend to be normal humans they are considered Threat Level E by the adventurer''s guild. However, sometimes criminal adventurers or corrupt nobles that have been stripped of their title will make a name for themselves as bandits. In that case their threat level is set appropiatedly. Usually according to their previous adventurer''s rank or title.

 The Raid

    Laurus is my name. It has been my name for the fifteen years that I have lived in this world. Before that is was Hayato Ito, I was a college dropout in a place called Japan, until I was hit by a truck and given a second chance by a strange dark god.


    ¡¾Laurus. Laurus! Fiora hath returned.¡¿


    I am polishing my sword in my childhood home when Sylphie comes rushing up the tree house to tell me the good news.


    Sylphie is a beautiful elf girl and my childhood friend, she is wearing a leaf skirt and top like most girls of the Hidden Village. Because she is an elf she ages slower and she is a lot smaller than me. Despite that we are actually the same age. (If you only count how long I have lived in this new world.)


    ¡¾Fiora? You mean same Fiora that went missing almost a year ago? Did she come back from some adventure?¡¿


    ¡¾An adventure? Please. Laurus, thou''st still such a child.¡¿


    ¡¾What''s that? Who''s a kid? Miss Flatty!¡¿


    I know exactly what buttons to push, Sylphie''s face goes completely red.


    ¡¾Thou- Thou idiot! I''m merely here to tell thou we''re all downstairs celebrating her return. But you know. We''d be happier if thou stay''st up here. So there!¡¿


    She storms off.


    I should probably apologize to her. But she''s so much cuter when she''s angry.


    I leave my tree hut to see what the commotion is about.


    It doesn''t look like a welcoming party at all. Fiora is on her knees on the forest floor, crying. Some older elves are beside her to comfort her, the rest of the village is giving her space.


    ¡¾What happened?¡¿ I ask the elf man that happens to be standing next to me. His name is Nilfin.


    ¡¾Forsooth, for the past lustrum Fiora had been held captive by the heinous creatures known as goblins. Her very recollection of the past years has been too grave for her to uphold her decorum.¡¿


    Goblins. I remember when I used to slay goblins when I had just started out as an adventurer. They are very weak, but it''s not impossible for them to capture normal people when ganging up on them in large groups. Apparently they rape women to make more goblins.


    ¡¾That had to be traumatizing.¡¿ I let go.


    ¡¾Laurus!¡¿ Nilfin says. ¡¾Thou art an adventurer. Art thou not? Surely, the righteous eradication of these pests would hardly be a trial for one such as thee!¡¿


    I scratch my chin. Killing goblins wasn''t very rewarding work, the bounties were low and it wasn''t considered very impressive. ¡¾There aren''t many goblins around anymore. And I wouldn''t want to take away the opportunity for rookies to prove themselves during the culling next year.¡¿


    It always went like this. Whenever anybody heard about some monster or infestation I would be the first person they thought about. Because the hidden village was so isolated, as the only human I was the one allowed to mingle with human society and join the adventurers'' guild. It can''t be helped.


    ¡¾How did you escape?¡¿ I ask Fiora.


    ¡¾By the luck of the ancients.¡¿ She says. ¡¾The goblins doth be a species of brutes and in the hurly-burly of their infighting, myself, and my fellow captives, were able to flee into the woods.¡¿


    ¡¾How didst thou survive the dangers of the forest?¡¿ Sylphie asks.


    ¡¾Our party was saved from certain death by the appearance of a beautiful adventuress. A paladin on a winged horse protected us from the wolves and escorted my human friends safely back to their city. I too was saved by her as she gave me her rations and understood my need for secrecy regarding my ancestral home.¡¿


    A paladin adventurer? On a winged horse? That sounds like...


    ¡¾Margaret!¡¿ I clasp my forehead.


    ¡¾Doth verily. That was her name.¡¿


    I had completely forgotten about the woman who had wanted to form a party with me. She should still be waiting for me in Eston.


    <hr>


    Scratch threw snow in his face to wake himself up.


    It was still night, but the unclouded sky let through enough starlight for a goblin to see clearly.


    "What did they say they were going to do?" He asked Second.


    There where Four of them standing outside.


    Scratch, Second, Kicker and Biter.


    The reason they had woken up so early was because of the sudden disappearance of First, Yeller, Scratch of the cave goblins and a few outsiders.


    Quiet and the rest of the younger generation remained inside to keep an eye on the house guests.


    "I don''t know. Something about getting food."


    "In the middle of the night, huh? And secretively too. Something''s fishy here."


    "You think they''re going to fish?"


    "No, that''s exactly the problem."


    "They took the spears with them." Kicker said.


    "The big axe too." Biter added.


    "Second. Stop biting your nails. It''s going to be alright." Scratch admonished him. "There should be a track left in the snow. Go follow it."


    Kicker and Biter gave obedient salutes and started their tracking. They were in their element. It must have been nostalgic for them from the time they served as Drool''s personal attack dogs.


    <hr>


    "Are we close? Tell us how we''d know we''re there." First demanded.


    "Go... further." Small gestured with his hands to make up for his limited vocabulary.


    Last didn''t say anything.


    Last and Small had been loaned some footwear from currently sleeping goblins and they were wearing small blankets as their own makeshift cloaks.


    It was clear to Yeller and Teeth that First was less patient than normal. He had a glimmer in his eye. A thirst for conquest.


    Last and Small had agreed to lead them to another goblin tribe. Dissidents that had split off from Horn''s group when food had become scarce.


    Apparently they had taken a large stockpile of edible plants with them.


    Food was a high priority to them right now, but Yeller and Teeth knew that wasn''t what was itching First. Ever since the regular forest game had gone into their hibernation and the hunting had to be scaled back in favor of digging for roots and fishing in the river First had lost one of the major exit valves for his energy. It was true that at the cave Scratch was the leader, but in the forest, during the hunt, First got to be the alpha male. Fighting or trapping animals and then killing them was what made him feel big and strong. Gathering plants did not.


    First was eager to relive the excitement of battling other goblins like in their war with the main group. Gathering food was just an excuse.


    Yeller laid his hand on Last''s shoulder, who was looking glum and distant.


    "Don''t worry. We''ve got weapons. Don''t we?"


    Last turned his eyes away from his gaze.


    <hr>


    "No shoes." Biter said. Pointing to the track beneath him.


    Scratch came over to look at the naked footprint. "That''s strange. Can you count how many people there are in total?"


    "No. Too many." Kicker answered for him.


    "We know they took two pairs of shoes." Second said. "But maybe they''re not used to them and kicked them off."


    "I don''t like this at all." Scratch continued, after he had gestured that they should just keep walking while talking. "First and the others keeping secrets from me. There''s something weird going on with that Small guy too."


    "Small was asking about Drool''s woman." Second mentioned.


    "Our mother. Yeah?"


    "I talked to Scr- the other Scratch. Drool took her away when he, Small, was just born."


    "So?"


    "So... I don''t know. It was just that he had talked about her before."


    "hhhm." Scratch sighed and arched his back. "I just want to get my stupid brothers back before they do something stupid."


    <hr>


    "I was always prepared for you to betray me."


    "How curious, that when you''re the one betraying me."


    What a time to remember his past on Earth. This hadn''t been long before his sudden immolation and death. A friend and co-conspirator was holding him at gunpoint over at the roof of a rundown office building. She had been quite agitated at the time.


    "Don''t fuck with me."


    "Tut-tut. Language."


    "You knew it was a trap and you send me right in."


    She was referring to a failed arms deal. Ever since the previous big names in the syndicate had been busted they had been working overtime winning back the lost territory, with themselves at the head. He had been distracted, things he could only describe as supernatural had been occuring around him, and he had let her walk into a sting operation. Unfortunately, it didn''t seem like she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.


    He cluthed his stomach. He still had chronic pains from the time he got disciplined all those years ago. "So what are you going to do? Are you going to shoot me?"


    She turned the gun sideways. "I will."


    "I didn''t betray you." He said, his voice much calmer than the flinching expression on his face. "What would I have to gain from that, huh? You''re my man in the field. What''s the use of me setting things up if I have nobody to execute them?"


    She walked towards him and he instincitvely walked backwards. "I knew sooner or later you''d try to get me back for ten years ago. But I came prepared motherfucker, I came prepared."


    When his feet reached the ledge she grabbed him by the collar and held him over the edge. She continued. "Let''s make it look like an accident shall we? It''ll hurt less for you too."


    She had a coverup going. This was a planned double-cross. A plan to fake a death like that within two hours? She had to have had help.


    "I assume you''ve got an alibi then?" He said calmly, not looking down.


    "Butch and I are currently drinking our cares away at the old bar."


    Butch again. Well, he never liked me.


    "Anybody else?"


    "It''s no concern of yours."


    With those words she let go of him, but he had no intention of falling down. With a judo move he grabbed her dominant arm with both hands and pulled himself up and her above the edge in a turning motion. He twisted her wrist and shoulder to make her drop her gun and restrict her movement.


    The tables were now completely turned, he would simply need to let go of her to kill her.


    "I have told you so many times that I don''t believe in repricocity. I don''t punish and reward, I only organize."


    She was too stunned to speak, her eyes were darting in all directions as the grip held her in place.


    "When we clashed ten years ago I was perfectly willing to... let it go, as they say. I''d do the same here. But I understand now that you''d take it as a reason to trust me even less."


    "Wait. No."


    He didn''t let her speak. "I have no use for those who don''t trust me." And he let her go.


    She fell five stories and left a mess on the alleyway.


    He breathed in slowly and out slowly. Then he made a phone call for somebody to clean up the mess.


    Right now was not the time to deal with disloyal members. Right now the bodysnatchers had first priority.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    <hr>


    "There." Small said.


    There didn''t seem to be anything remarkable about the snowy hilltop he was pointing to.


    "What?" First asked.


    "We''re there." He said.


    The warrior trio went forth to inspect the area while Small held Last back.


    From the hilltop a line of sight could be made with a collection of tents. There were humans about them.


    They were dressed warmly in winter clothing and they breathed white vapor in the cold weather. It was clear that this was the night''s watch and they were holding what could only be forged weapons.


    Teeth and Yeller wanted to duck down to escape a leaning guard''s sight, but First grabbed them by the hair to stop them from jumping into the snow.


    "Shush." He whispered, a word Scratch would use as a command to make them stop talking. Right now being silent was the most important thing, the darkness would protect them.


    Right then a stone packed with snow flew over their heads and impacted against the tree next to the guard.


    "Ah!" First yelled out, breaking his own silence. He turned around to see Small and Last running away.


    <hr>


    "Wait." Second said. "He''s there." Pointing to a figure hunched against a tree to their side.


    "That''s Growler." Kicker commented.


    "The bad one from the outsiders." Biter added.


    "Hey you!" They both shouted.


    The four brothers strayed from the track to approach the stranger. He had gone out in nothing but his loincloth, his feet had gotten frostbitten again and his whole body was hypothermic.


    "Stay away." He growled, waving his arms threatingly without even having the energy to lift them properly or look at his enemies.


    "At ease, soldier. We are not your enemies." Scratch proclaimed. "Tell us what this is all about."


    Second rushed towards him to put a cloak over him, but he threw it off.


    "No human... no... human."


    "Can any of you make sense of what he''s saying?" Scratch asked.


    "No human?" Kicker offered helpfully.


    "Maybe it''s: No. Human!" Biter said. "Or even: no, human. Like he''s addressing a human, if you get what I mean."


    "I get what you mean, but I don''t think that''s it." Kicker responded.


    "You two shush." Scratch said a little angrily. Then he adressed Growler again. "Where are your friends and our brothers?"


    Growler chuckled joylessly. "You take them. You trade them. I know. I see."


    "If only we had Yeller to translate." Scratch sighed. "This kind of thing is why I taught you guys to speak properly."


    "You did that?" Biter said, sceptically.


    "Growler. Did you flee from us because you thought we did something?" Second inquired.


    Growler tried to pull himself away by the bark of the tree, but he didn''t have the strength for it. "First take Last, take Small, to humans. I see. I know."


    "To humans, eh? Let''s waste no more time and catch up to them." Scratch said.


    "Scratch. We need to do something." Second pleaded. "He''ll die."


    "First Yeller and now you." Scratch shook his head. "I don''t know where you picked up that sentimentality. Anyway, he''s not going to cooperate. You can leave your cloak here if you want. But then you''ll have to go without."


    "Are these the humans that took your eye?" Biter asked Scratch when they were back to following the track a few moments later. With a slight jog this time as the situation had become more severe and a very light snow downfall was slowly erasing the tracks.


    "No, this is in the opposite direction. Much closer too. I didn''t think we''d find civilization this deep in the woods."


    "So maybe they''re nice humans."


    "Maybe, Growler didn''t seem fond of them though."


    "You like humans, don''t you Scratch?" Kicker interjected.


    How could I not. I still think of myself as a human. He thought.


    "I won''t make them mistake of trusting them anymore." He said.


    <hr>


    A single human had effortlessly fended off the three goblins with his short sharpened blade.


    It hadn''t occured to First and his friends to flee when the guard had stepped forward and they had charged immediately, swinging the weapons that had brought victory against Horns and the other big goblins. However, this creature combined the physical prowess of someone like Horns with armor and weaponry superior to even their own clan.


    He had simply kicked Yeller aside and blocked and parried First''s weapon with his own, leaving a nasty gash on the eldest goblin''s hand. He had enough time to dodge Teeth''s wild rush too, tripping him.


    The other two would have fought to the death if Yeller hadn''t pulled them back.


    "Argh! What are you-" First said, angry at being pulled away from the fight.


    "You''ll lose. You''ll lose!" Yeller screamed, continueing to pull them both away from the enemy.


    "No. I-" First stopped talking. Somehow the possibility of losing and suffering the same fate as the things he had killed had never entered his mind.


    "There''s goblins here!" The human shouted towards his compatriots.


    "Don''t wake us up over goblins. Just drive them away." Someone said.


    The three all ran into different directions.


    But the human had longer legs, he caught up to Yeller, weapon in hand, and with a single oveerhead strike chopped off his arm, straight through his shoulder.


    Yeller dove into the snow. He was alive, his cloak and shirt had been slashed open and he was bleeding heavily, but he hadn''t felt pain yet due to the adrenaline.


    He tried to supress his breathing and play dead for the human standing over him.


    The human sheathed his weapon and looked around a bit before simply sauntering off.


    Not very far off stood Teeth. Frozen still.


    The human had let his gaze glide over him and had then just left. As if he didn''t see him at all.


    After a few moments Teeth dared to go over where Yeller was lying.


    "Yeller. Come on, Yeller, talk to me. Say something stupid." He pleaded.


    "What are you talking about, I never say anything stupid." Yeller moaned softly.


    "Let''s go back." Teeth said. "We can clean the wound, like Scratch''s eye. Can''t we Yeller? Even without your arm- I mean you won''t fight anymore, but-"


    "Cut it out, okay?" Yeller interrupted, as he tried and failed to turn himself on his back with his remaining arm. "You''ve seen animals bleed out."


    Teeth started to cry.


    <hr>


    When trying to escape the guard First had ran deeper into the human encampement.


    The guards were keeping watch over the perimeter but inside everybody seemed to be asleep.


    He hid behind what seemed like a wooden container for rainwater and clutched his head in his hands.


    What happened? What had he done?


    In the first place they had thought they were raiding a goblin clan, but Small and Last had led them right towards what had to be a powerful human empire.


    First had heard about humans from Scratch, but he hadn''t really thought about them. They had been a mythical far-off creature that had cost their leader his eye. But the real most powerful creature in all of the world they knew, that was they themselves, the cave goblins.


    So First had set out on this mission with no hesitation, no fear or precaution. And he had led them straight into the jaws of death.


    <hr>


    "Hey. Do goblins wear clothes?"


    "What are yer talking about? Have ya been burning hemp?"


    It had been twelve years since Dee and Huckabee had been resigned to bandit life and he still managed to stupify her with his questions from time to time.


    "I just wacked a goblin and it was wearing clothes."


    "No yer haven''t. Don''t talk shite."


    "Yes I have. A cloak and pants and a shirt. Come and look if yer dunnot believe me."


    "I can''t. I''m keeping watch. You should too, go back to yer post before Miss Harkness finds out."


    "Alright. Alright."


    Huckabee stumbled back to where he came from. It was so incredibly dark during this hour of the night, he couldn''t see a thing.


    A goblin could probably sneak effortlessly past him, if it had the desire and tactical inclination to do so. But it wasn''t goblins he was keeping an eye out for.


    <hr>


    "Teeth! Where are the others? Where''s... the rest of Yeller?"


    It had been an insensitive comment by Scratch, but one that alerted Teeth to his presence. He had been carrying Yeller back, leaving a trail of the boy''s blood behind him and drenching his own clothes in the liquid completely by doing so.


    He came running up to him, Yeller in his arms, his eyes red from the tears. "Scraaatch, fix''m. Do somm thiii." He was incomprehensible through his crying.


    Yeller moaned weakly at the shaking. He was pale, in the last stages of bleeding out.


    "Easy there. Put him down. Okay?"


    Kicker and Biter helped put down Yeller gently on a snowbank.


    Scratch tried to put pressure on the wound to stop it bleeding, but an entire limb had been chopped off. And in any case, he had already lost too much blood.


    "Hey there Yeller. How''re you feeling?"


    Scratch''s eyes blinked very slowly. "Cold..."


    He grabbed Teeth''s cloak, which had already gone red, and tugged it tightly around his dying brother.


    "I''m here. Teeth is here. So are Second and Kicker and Biter. We''re all glad we got to see you one last time."


    "No..." Teeth said, realizing there wasn''t going to be any saving.


    "I''m scared." Yeller said, trying to find a hand to grasp and finding Second''s. "First-"


    He wasn''t able to finish his sentence.


    A freshly made corpse will immediately expel various waste products and emit a powerful smell.


    The kids turned away from the dead goblin, retching.


    No dignity, even in death, huh? Scratch thought to himself. Typical.


    Teeth had his face turned away from the rest of the group. Even though they had seen him cry unreservedly already.


    Kicker and Biter were standing around awkwardly, not knowing what to do.


    Second was pulling away Teeth''s cloak from the body, his movements were brusque and snappish. He seemed angry.


    "Are you alright too, Second?" Scratch tried.


    Second yelled at him. "Why are we always dieing, Scratch?! Every time. I mean... Slow-" He couldn''t finish his sentence.


    Scratch decided to leave him alone.


    They loitered around, cleaning the scene, until they could get Teeth to recount the situation.


    Scratch then used his authority as the leader to force everybody to go back. If First didn''t return by himself, he said, they had to consider him dead, that was an order.


    <hr>


    As it happened First didn''t return the following morning. Nor did he throughout the day when the sun was rising.


    A decision had to be made concerning the outsiders.


    There were three of them left; Scream, outsider-Kicker and outsider-Scratch.


    "We had planned on simply letting you walk away after this." cave-Scratch began, having gathered them in one place near the old bloomery.


    Scream eyed the wet snow around them and in th forest. Would they even survive in the wild as it was now?


    "However." cave-Scratch continued with a strict tone. "Your friends have hurt us greatly, and I can''t be sure we can trust- Second stop bothering me."


    Second had been pulling at his arm while he was speaking. "Don''t kill them please." He pleaded.


    "Let me kill them." Teeth growled menacingly, there was no happy eagerness in his voice, just angry bloodthirst.


    The outsider goblins shifted awkwardly in their place. Outsider-Scratch seemed ready to start sprinting, while outsider-Kicker looked towards Scream for confirmation.


    "Killing? What are you talking about? Will you just let me finish?" Scratch shook off Second angrily, then turned towards the visitors again. "We''re going to keep you here for a while and keep an eye on you."


    The three exhaled in relief.


    "I''ll be thinking up some tasks for you to earn your keep and win our trust."


    Scream smiled and nodded approvingly.


    "Oh, you think it''ll be easy, huh? Well you can start by digging the rest of this well."


    Scratch put them on something his own people had given up on a few days back. Digging through the frozen earth to reach ground water.


    "By the way, in the meantime, you can think up new names for Kicker and Scratch, because right now it''s confusing."


    <hr>


    First didn''t return, not because he was dead, but because he had been captured.


    The bandits had a few handcrafted cages for animals, none were fitted for a goblin-sized creature. But they were merciful and gave him one that was too large, rather than too small.


    "Lookit! He talks. Didn''t I say they talked?" Huckabee the bandit underling proclaimed loudly.


    "I didn''t hear nuthin''." His comrade Dee responded, speaking with her mouth full.


    "Ey. Say something." He prodded First with his finger.


    First tried to bite him but he withdrew too quickly.


    "Ah, pest!"


    "Did you dress him up like that?" Dee asked, eyeing the crudely tailored fur that was covering the little goblin.


    "No, I''m telling you. It''s an intelligent type or something."


    "I''m not explaining this to Harkness. You can go talk to her about it."


    "Talk to me about what?"


    Both bandits jumped up when the presence of their leader suddenly appeared between them.


    "A miss Hark- I mean mistress, uh, you hono-"


    "I''m not a knight anymore. So you can knock it off with the formalities, if there''s one bright side to all this then it''s that."


    "Right. Boss."


    "What do I need explaining about?"


    Dee answered for him. "Huck caught a goblin."


    "Ah- A special goblin." He quickly added.


    The boss looked at First, who stared back just as intensely. "What''s so special about him?"


    "I- he talks."


    "All goblins talk. They copy humans."


    "Not as much as this one, m- uh, boss."


    Again she looked at the caged goblin. He was just sitting on the floor of the cage with his arms folded. "Right. Stay focused Huckabee. There''ve been more orcs spotted tonight."


    After that exchange she walked off. Dee started laughing uncontrollably.


    "He''s wearing clothes! He has like a little outfit!" Huckabee yelled at her what he didn''t dare do against his boss.


    <hr>


    Orcs


    Family: beastmen


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 1 silver piece


    Orcs are the biggest force of evil. Although individually not the strongest they are numerous and intelligent, able to form large armies and march in service of a dark lord. They have a lifespan of more than fifty years, although it''s rare for them to survive into old age. An adult orc has greater strength than the average human, however, they are less intelligent and do not have the ability to learn magic. They can be recognized by their pig-like appearance, as they posses the combined features of humans and pigs.


    Orcs are an all-male race and reproduce by capturing women or by the magic of an alchemist, as there are dark rituals for birthing them from mud. They are not capable of agriculture or living in harmony with nature and must survive nomadically, raping and pillaging wherever they come.


    Because of their migratory nature they can appear in territories officially ranked at danger levels lower than D.

 Goblin Town

    "It''s been three years. It''s normal for you to have a hard time adapting." Barbera''s sister comforted her.


    Barbara had been staying at her sister''s house in Eston for the past week, she was laying on a couch rubbing her temples.


    "We''ll start looking for a new place for you soon, okay? One without kids?" He sister continued.


    "I''m sorry Mabel. It''s just... when he gets too close so suddenly."


    "Yeah, yeah." Mabel said comfortingly.


    Goblins, with their childlike appearance, would often traumatize women towards boys. Just moments earlier Barbara had kicked her own nephew so hard he had required healing magic.


    At least she''s alive. Mabel thought to herself. That''s more than we had hoped for.


    "Has the leadership mentioned me?" Barbara said, sitting up straight.


    "They said to give you time to recover."


    "I''ve been locked up for years. Believe me, I''ve had enough rest for the rest of my life."


    Mabel thought about it for a bit. "If you''re ready, the our guild would like to know what the Adventurers'' Guild was told."


    "An evolved goblin type."


    "Evolved? Hobgoblins?"


    "Yeah" Barbara wasn''t very engaged in the subject and was studying the stitching on her glove while talking. "Just hobgoblins for now. It started last year when the elf was captured."


    Mabel was a lot more interested. She leaned forward and stared in the distance, analyzing the situation. "So no ogre''s or oni yet. That''s good, but still, that''s a step above monsters usually found in Eston."


    "Maybe they''ll send the Nightshade hero to deal with it." Barbara suggested.


    "Laurus of the Hidden People? Not likely, he''s too high-level to bother with E-level enemies."


    Barbara chuckled at the mention of the Adventurers'' Guild''s unnatural threat classes. "No? What is he? D? C?"


    "The Nightshade hero is a C level, but they say he has a potential way higher." Mabel answered soberly. "Anyway. The leadership has a bandit camp stationed in that wood to report on orcs, they might see something."


    "Yeah, you could tell them or whatever. I don''t want anything to do with the wilderness anymore. Maybe I can go back into smuggling."


    "I''m sure the Thieves'' Guild would be overjoyed to have you working with us again, Barbara."


    <hr>


    Goblins don''t tend to get to choose their own name.


    In the first place, a goblin''s name is more like a consistent insult they''re called by, first made up by whoever was present for the birth. That''s why they had names like ''First'', ''Dumb'' or ''Kicker''. Generally there wasn''t much need to tell each other apart, except for keeping track of enemies, in which case the insult would do fine.


    Right now two goblins, previously of the Horns clan, before that of the Drool clan and in the future hopefully of the Scratch clan, were given the rare chance to choose their own name.


    As some of the oldest goblins in their surroundings and having grown up in a society without much concern for personal care, they had no shortages of traits that would make for appropriate insults. They were missing patches of hair, their teeth where browned and even black at some place and their skin showed its signs of wear and tear. But they could choose the names themselves, and they''d rather be called something cool.


    "Fighter." Kicker suggested, hacking the frosted earth loose with a spear.


    "Strong." Scratch said, climbing out of the hole while lifting a carved wooden bucket.


    Scream laughed, he was also helping dig the well. "You no fight. You no are strong."


    "Am strong" Scratch said, showing off to nobody in particular by lifting the heavy bucket over his head.


    "Water!" Kicker exclaimed.


    "Water?" Scratch got a confused look on his face while emptying his bucket., that didn''t seem like a very good name.


    "Water! Water!" The two goblin in the hole became excited and plunged their hands into the damp soil where ground water was leaking through.


    "Ah! Cold!" Kicker whined, tucking his icy hands under his newly gifted cloak.


    "Cold is nice name." Scream said, still digging with his hands.


    When the well was done the bucket was affixed to a beam that was suspended above it with the long rope. Whenever they wanted the goblins could rake up a bucket of muddy water from the ground in the safety of their own square. Scratch designed a filtration system of rocks and gravel in a large clay tank from which the muddy water flowed with the same clearness as river water. Naturally, he still had the kids distill it further before it could be used for anything.


    Kicker chose the name Digger and Scratch went for Laugh. Which weren''t particularly ridiculous.


    <hr>


    Currently there were eleven goblins in the cave.


    * The leader, Scratch


    * The warriors, Kicker, Biter and Teeth


    * The crafters, Second and Quiet


    * The harvesters, Dumb and Fat


    * The prisoners, Scream, Digger and Laugh


    It was slightly packed when they were all in the same room together, which happened at night when it was time to sleep.


    Now that they had a firm grasp on creating wooden building materials Scratch felt confident in expanding the cave using scaffolding against collapse.


    The prisoners were send to the mines to dig out rooms in the shale layer. Four different rooms were planned, all directly connected to the existing tunnel. They had been given newly forged metal pickaxes for the job, unfortunately the tools where rather large and with Scratch lacking expertise in blacksmithing they frequently broke and needed repairing.


    The biggest issue was food. They were now feeding themselves with harvested insects, ground up into paste. But that wasn''t a long-term solution.


    Scratch discussed it with his warriors.


    "If it goes on like this we won''t last the winter."


    "There''s no animals Scratch." Kicker said.


    "There''s no fruits or nuts." Biter added.


    "Look here." Scratch had a plate of shale in front of him, with a little rock it was easy to draw clear and readable lines on its surface.


    What he had drawn was a recognizable image to all of them. A map of the surrounding are, complete with rivers, streams and use trails. However, at various places he had marked the area with circles and crosses.


    "After we defeated Horns the main group fell apart. I discussed it with Scream and the others, these are the locations they likely fled to. The safer spots they knew about, to hole themselves up in."


    Teeth grabbed the plate and rested it on his lap, saying nothing.


    "You think they''ll have food?" Biter said, looking over Teeth''s shoulder.


    "We''ll go take it!" Kicker cheered.


    Teeth just gritted his teeth and grasped his new sword-like weapon.


    "That was my plan at first too." Scratch admitted. "But I''ve reconsidered. There''s a yearly occurrence of humans coming to the forest to kill goblins."


    "That...!" Teeth jumped up but Scratch stopped him with a hand gesture.


    "Specifically to kill goblins. That''s not what you saw before. In any case, I think it''s better not to remove too much of the buffer between them and us."


    Kicker and Biter looked at each other with a confused look. "Uhhm..." "Don''t kill them?"


    "That''s right. Rather than fight, we can trade with them. We have plenty of stuff goblins don''t have access to. Even if foodstuff is hard to get right now."


    "What''s trade with them?" Kicker asked.


    "You know. Offer something in exchange for something else. We have vases and clothing and such."


    He plotted out a path for them to take while saying that.


    "If they don''t have anything but they think they can get something, offer to come back later when they''ve had time to prepare."


    "So, we won''t be fighting." Teeth said, as they were about to set out with the sleigh full off wares.


    "Not unless they attack you." Scratch explained again. "We don''t want to lose anybody else."


    "But, if they do attack. Than we''ll be fighting back." Teeth said, staring at the ground clenching his fist.


    Scratch was aware some sort of emotion was going on, he patted him on the shoulder. "I don''t know what to say..." He turned around. "Hey Second! Can you come deal with this?"


    <hr>


    "They killed Tyrone, they killed my boy Tyrone!"


    The gaudy looking man, dressed in a bright sports jersey, with gold plated jewelry adorning his neck and arms, was pacing up and down the apartment.


    His host was calmly rolling a cigarette, dealing with heated situations like this was part of helping run an organized crime syndicate.


    "Come on, nigga, say something!" His guest demanded.


    "Say something?"


    "Yeah!"


    "Come to my apartment, in the middle of the day, which you were supposed to never do, saying ''this and that are wacked, do something'', and I''m supposed to drop everything and help you, what? Avenge him?"


    "Come on man. Tyrone. You went to his bar mitzwa and everything."


    "Don''t insult me, I knew Tyrone just as well as you did, I trusted him more than I trust you. You think you''ll honor his memory starting a war?"


    "No." The gaudy looking man had a shivering lower lip as he pointed at his host. "They started it, those goddamn Chinks shot him. They. Declared war. On us."


    "I''ll cut you some slack, seeing as how you''re grieving and all." The host declared, putting the cigarette in his mouth. "Go home. Get some rest. Never tell the Syndicate what wars to fight."


    His subordinate was about to leave, but turned around again. "So then the Syndicate doesn''t fight at my side. Maybe the Syndicate isn''t my homeboy no more. Maybe the west district is in this along."


    The other man stopped himself from lighting his cigarette, he sighed. "Sit dow." He said.


    His guest was apprehensive, but he obeyed, placing his large brightly colored form into the more muted designer chair, forming a striking contrast.


    The host put his cigarette away in his breast pocket and began to speak. "What do you think the Syndicate does? Is it just a big name to hide behind so the local gangs are afraid of you?"


    "Shit, man. I know the Syndicate gave me everything, but..."


    "No buts. I''m not lecturing you about gratitude, or loyalty. Forget about those, that''s master morality."


    "Uh, what?"


    "Listen to this. You are a district manager of the narcotics division, alright?"


    "Shit man. Sure?"


    "The Syndicate takes its cut, not for franchising, but for the careful moderation of your work environment. Capiche?"


    The man in the chair fell silent, he had a strained look on his face.


    "Bribing the cops. Drugging the water. Driving down property values." The host was counting the ways the Syndicate kept the neighbourhoods suitable for selling drugs. "And yes, sometimes, teaching respect to gangs that think they can disrespect the brand."


    "What is this pussy shit, because they''re not a gang they don''t count? Why shouldn''t I go over there myself with Clevis and Bu-"


    "This is different." He interrupted him. "Because it interferes with the business of the armaments division. The weapons exchange has priority over local brand strength. You get that? Because our access to unregistered weapons is vital to all branches and layers of the organization."


    The guest stood up and got in his face. "Tyrone is worth less to you than a bunch of forty sevens? Man. Do you ev-"


    "I said; sit. down." The host pushed him at the center of gravity and toppled him backwards onto the chair again. "Now I wouldn''t trade anybody for a gun." He crouched next to the man to get up close. "But blowing this deal won''t bring anybody back, you understand?"


    "What about some justice?" The guest said, still challengingly.


    "There''s no such thing. It''s a made up word, alright?" Me made a little joke. "For cops putting away teenagers. So they can live with themselves." It didn''t land. "Listen, I don''t want you to end up like Tyrone, but you will. Unless you can get rid of this sentimentality, these emotions. They''re not helping you, they''re not helping the people around you. They''re making you irrational, there''s no bigger target than a clouded mind, not junkies, not the excommunicated, not ''pussy shits''," he tapped his forehead, "but the idiots."


    He didn''t send the man home with an eased spirit, but he had dissuaded him from a revenge plan at least. He chalked the rage up to a mind ravaged by drugs and a macho culture. Later, when he was reincarnated as a goblin, he didn''t think he''d have to deal with the rage filled bloodlust among different tribes anymore. This could be characterized as naive to the point of absurdity.


    <hr>


    "Is this yours?" Huckabee showed the captured goblin the makeshift stone axe they had found.


    First stretched his arm to receive it but his captor showed no sign of handing it over.


    "Who made this? Was it a goblin?" He continued.


    First clenched the bars of his cage in rage and stared at him intently.


    "I know you can talk. Even normal goblins know a few words. But now you''re keeping quiet."


    Still no response.


    "We kill goblins. Normally. Normal goblins."


    It was strange how guilty he felt over threatening the boy like this. Usually he had no reservations about cutting the cretins down when trekking through the forest, but in full light and with the clothing on a goblin was just too similar to a human child.


    He sighed. He would have to tell Harkness he couldn''t get anything out of the captured goblin. Dee would laugh at him again and they would have to go look for hobgoblins while there were still orcs about. Why would the Guild know what kind of monsters were around in the forest anyway? They weren''t the ones that lived here, Harkness and her bandits did.


    "Then kill me." The goblin said.


    "What was that?"


    "I won''t talk about my brothers. So just kill me." He tried to be stoic while saying that, but his voice cracked and his hands were trembling.


    "Your brothers. Are they orange with little horns?" Huckabee tried. The glint of recognition in First''s eyes was all he needed.


    He stood up and left, letting the weapon clatter on the ground in front of the cage.


    <hr>


    While the warriors were making their trek, meeting up with various isolated splinter tribes, the others were making incremental changes to the base.


    The snow was all mushy and wet now and it had rained, water had leaked into the cave and Scratch had had to design a little diagonal roof over the chimney that would keep rain out but not keep smoke in.


    The different workstations on the square received protection from the elements too. They had taken the time to build mud huts around the bloomery and anvil-rock, the fireplace, the butchery and the well. The building were made out of clay packked againstt woven wood, wth pointy roofs of freshly cut branches, whose stillgreen leaves kept out he rain. They even build a stilted roof to protect the wood stockpile from any rain. From a distance it started to look like a little village. Goblin town.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement."I think it''s time to start considering a wall again." Scratch mused, staring at the little structure Second and Slow had build when they were little. A large pile of shale rock had been stacked against it, the result of the new mining effort.


    "Maybe we should focus on the new rooms for now." Dumb said.


    So it came to pass that when Teeth and the others returned with foodstuff and treasure they had a furnished dining room to eat it in.


    It was a table carved out of a large tree trunk and the chairs were basically just logs. But it was refined eating, especially with the new iron cutlery, forged by Second, who had developed a talent for tinkering.


    The goblins were overjoyed to finally be able to make use of the room they had worked so hard to complete, so they were eager to dissect what the warriors had brought.


    This was the collection of traded for goods.


    * A monstrous deer.


    * Two horned rabbits.


    * Three sacks of flour. (Stolen from a human farm.)


    * A living chicken.


    "The chicken stays fresh until you kill it." Kicker explained.


    "But you do need to feed it." Biter added.


    They properly bled the dead animals and kept the chicken in the smithing hut for the time being.


    That day they ate roasted rabbit with crushed burdock roots as vegetables. They did it at a table, on plates with forks and knives.


    You see. Scratch though to himself. Weakness is a state of mind. I don''t need to just accept the lifestyle that witch assigned to me. Only the body I can''t help.


    "Did these always have horns?" Fat wondered aloud, staring at his dish.


    "Maybe it is evolved form." Laugh said, who had grown more eloquent over the past days.


    Scratch stopped chewing. "Evvolf fworm?"


    "Yes." Scream explained. "Creatures can become... stronger creatures. With magic. Evolve."


    Scratch quickly swallowed. "Can goblins evolve? Have you ever seen something evolve?"


    "I... uh not seen. Missy tell-" He corrected himself. "-told me about it. Missy is human mother."


    Laugh was eager to add to the conversation. "Can happen suddenly -BAMF!- because monster is too strong."


    Scratch stopped enjoying his meal, he was thinking deeply now. Evolution. I don''t need to accept what was given to me at all.


    <hr>


    That night the warriors, who had had to sleep in the snow during the trading trek, were given their own sleeping quarters.


    The mined area had been decorated with drawings and woodcarvings and they each had their own bed, a fur bag filled with moss to make it soft. Being further underground the area wouldn''t lose heat as fast during the winter, it was slightly warmer than in the communal entrance area, even without the fire.


    For now Scratch was sleeping with the others on what he called the ''goblin pile'' in his mind. They weren''t always laying on top of each other, but they were certainly sharing the floor.


    Let me reset my priorities. He thought. I''ve been focused on surviving until now. Now I''d like to gain back some dignity.


    He played with some pebbles and ordered four of them in a row.


    The goddess sought to punish me with a new life. But really, her sentence can be broken down into four bad aspects.


    To begin with. I was given a deprived life. Where food and other commodities are hard to get.


    The second aspect is that I''m hated. Those who want to kill me are not hard to find. He thought back to the time he lost his eye when he decided that.


    Thirdly, I''m a weak creature. I can''t defend myself against most enemies.


    And lastly. I''m ignorant. I was placed in a world with different rules that I don''t understand.


    He looked at the different pebbles that he had assigned the different curses.


    Let''s put off being hated for now. I''ll focus on that after I achieve the other goals. He took the pebble and placed it to the side.


    Deprived. I''ve been making progress. After we make it through the winter, maybe we can do some agriculture.


    Ignorance. I can''t make plans for now. Only stay alive and keep my eyes open. Maybe it should tie in with undoing hatred and learning from humans. He placed the pebble to the side with the other one.


    But weakness. He picked up the pebble. I had resigned myself to it. But it''s the biggest one, without it the others would be so much less significant, and if the older goblins are right...


    "Scratch" Kicker interrupted his thought process by climbing up from deeper in the cave. "I can''t sleep. Can I lie with you guys?"


    Scratch put his finger to his lips. "If you''re really quiet." He whispered.


    <hr>


    Nothing else interrupted the night and Scratch was left staring at the ceiling, wondering about evolution, until he drifted off to sleep.


    But evolution had to wait, because he had three sacks of flour to concern himself with the following morning.


    The goblins that had procured it had eaten it straight from the container, indeed, one of the sacks had a few handfuls removed already. Flour wasn''t considered good eating, but it''d keep you alive when starving. They''d traded them for a single iron knife.


    Scratch had bigger plans for the stuff, he wanted to try his hand at baking bread. It wasn''t likely to be very good bread, missing yeast, salt and a variety of other ingredients, but it would compliment their current low-fibre diet.


    The flour mixed with a few drops of water would turn into a dough-y substance that could be rolled into balls and baked on an iron plate, for this they used the fireplace that kept the communal home warm at night. The things baked unevenly and the outside would burn before the inside was dry, on top of that they were bland in taste and thick in texture. However, the others were very happy with the product, eagerly burning their fingers to get them out of the fire.


    Scratch left Quiet to further streamline the process, which he did by baking the bread in the shape of large flat loafs and mixing edible herbs into the dough. It filled the place with a pleasant aroma and distracted the goblins from their work. They all collected around the fire and Scratch had to tell them to go back to work.


    He took the opportunity to tell Dumb and Fat that there was enough wood harvested now and that they could stop logging. He had come up with the idea to make more underground rooms to protect them against the more extreme temperatures near the surface, they could use the holes made by digging for iron as a starting point and mine them out in the deeper part of the tunnel. So the tribe was going to need mining support scaffolding, and more miners.


    "Now that we''ve got some more material." Second said, while scraping the deer hide. "Maybe we can make some clothes for the visitors."


    "Call them the prisoners for now." Scratch muttered, pondering on the size of the deer''s enormous skull and dog-like teeth.


    Second had purposefully waited until Kicker and Biter had set off again with Teeth before addressing the subject. Teeth was the biggest opponent of the prisoners'' familiar treatment in the tribe. He resented them for the loss of two of his brothers by their friends.It wasn''t unreasonable, they had made allies with Small and Last, who had later turned against the cave tribe over petty reasons. If nothing else, they could be accused of being criminally poor judges of character.


    Scratch cared mainly about the labour they provided. But Second felt a kinship to them. They had lost family, just like he had, he wanted to help them.


    "It''d look and smell a lot better." He tried, appealing to Scratch''s own sensibilities. The goblin loincloths they wore didn''t cover much and smelled of rot and decay. "And we need to replace the lost shoes anyway."


    "I suppose." Scratch said, done playing with the animal remains now. Suddenly it seemed like he had thought of something. "Yeah. Yeah. It''d be for the best. Let''s get one of them out of that stuffy old mine too and help us with it."


    So they set up shop at Scratch''s old workshop spot to start sewing four additional cloaks and five additional pairs of shoes. The extra cloak was to replace the one Second had given to Growler.


    With Quiet manning the stove the ones recruited for the job were Scratch, Second and Laugh.


    Rather than give them each a product to work on, Scratch organized them into an assembly line. Laugh would cut the material according to their instructions, Second combined the materials into the right shape and did some preliminary stitching and Scratch would complete it. Scratch reasoned that Laugh could learn by watching and it was best to give him the most straightforward job for now.


    "So, Laugh, are you enjoying your time here?" He asked while they were working.


    "The food... and the warmth... is good." Laugh was concentrating hard on doing his job and simultaneously conforming to Scratch''s standard for proper grammar.


    "Good. Good. That''s nice." Scratch concluded it was the amenities that made it worthwhile for him. "Have you lived in a lot of different tribes?"


    "..." Laugh was silent for a moment. "More than one."


    "Did you see a lot of evolved goblins?"


    "Uhm... No. I saw... only... only Horns, Biter, Spitter and Last."


    The orange goblins from the derelict village.


    "But you didn''t see them evolve."


    "...No."


    "Did, whats-her-name, Missy... ever tell you about what causes evolution?"


    "Scratch, I don''t think-" Second began when Laugh stayed silent, but Scratch hushed him.


    Laugh stopped cutting when thinking about Missy, he stared into the distance. "Only stories."


    <hr>


    Laugh did have some fairy tales about special goblins. One about a goblin that was smaller than the others but discovered that he had special magical powers. (Scratch almost dismissed it as fiction, but remembered that in this world magical spells wouldn''t seem that out of place.) And a few of stronger, bigger goblins that used their strength to become leaders. One version had become quite exaggerated over its continued retellings, it was the story of a goblin ''king''. The king was supposed to be as big as a house and rule over all the goblins in the world. Human kings bowed to him and payed him tribute.


    "That obviously never happened." Scratch commented, through his sewing.


    "It could have." Quiet said softly, when bringing them a piece of torn bread and a cup of broth each. "Kicker talked about a group hiding in a big, big abandoned house with a shiny chair as wide as this cave."


    "That is wide." Second commented.


    In any case, Laugh had enough stories to keep them entertained while they worked, and when he ran out Scratch began to sing. The others hummed along but they didn''t know the words.


    <hr>


    Small had a destination in mind when fleeing the cave tribe. He had been traveling with Scream and the others out of necessity, but he had his own group he could count on. His brother and cousins had wasted little time splintering from Horns'' group and stayed together as a tribe. Loud always had had the nature of a patriarch, rather than a servant. Even under Drool and under Horns he had been defiantly counter to authority, without challenging the leader directly, forming a smaller tribe of loyalists within the larger tribe.


    "Is Last." He said, introducing his friend. "Travel with Scream and Growler."


    With those words suddenly Last was part of a tribe again.


    The home of their group was a hole in the ground, they had put branches and leaves over it to camouflage and protect it. However, it had still filled up with rain water. As a consequence all of them were caked in mud. For food they hunted bugs and scavenged dead animals, in doing so they had to stay together in groups to discourage local large cats from killing and eating them. The same day the two arrived one of Small''s brothers had been dragged off, despite their group tactics.


    "We go get woman." The patriarch declared. "Get bigger group."


    He held up a large butcher''s knife. As a weapon it was much more impressive than Drool''s old knife.


    "Mother... is dead." Small said miserably. Small was under the impression that he would be as disappointed by the news as he was himself. His only good memory was of being held by her just after being born.


    Loud didn''t seem very distraught by the news. "Drool take our woman. We take other woman. Know place of humans."


    Last stood around awkwardly while the muddy goblins looked at his shoes.


    This place seemed decidedly worse than the last, but Small had taken him along for the betrayal, he couldn''t go back. It made him want to cry, but he steeled himself, he would almost be a year old soon. Crying was for newborn.


    <hr>


    "So there are hobgoblins in the forest? Are you sure of this?" Lydia Harkness played with her throwing knives while her subordinate was reporting to her.


    She had been a knight once, but even then she had dressed more for maneuverability than defense. Currently she was wearing combat gear, as she always did nowadays, it commanded respect in the lawless community of bandits. She didn''t have a office as such, but her tent functioned as a base of operations for controlling the bandit camp. It was bigger than the others and had a desk in it, behind which she sat, leaned back and digging her small weapons into the wood.


    "As sure as day, boss. Your intel was right. The kid we caught- I mean the goblin. It''s his family that made the weapons."


    She still didn''t look at him. "Well, that''s alright then. Isn''t it?"


    "Boss?"


    "If it was by the orcs, that would mean the two races had started to work together. But if they just have a few hobgoblins, we don''t have to deal with a unified force."


    Huckabee sighed in relief. It looked like he wasn''t going to be send out to confirm the rumour.


    "That is..." Harkness began. "if we''re absolutely certain."


    Huckabee looked at her incredulously. She had heard it from the Thieves'' Guild, she had heard it from him, what else did she need? It wasn''t like it was rare for hobgoblins to take over goblin tribes and arm them with better gear. In his own hometown hobgoblins were all around and they''d often wield weapons looted from dead adventurers. Did this issue really require that much skepticism?


    Meanwhile the bandit leader was mulling something over.


    "I have tried to get the Thieves'' Guild to post a request at the Adventurers'' Guild in my stead. But they''re too scared they''d expose themselves. Those bastards! Aren''t we always sticking our neck out for them?"


    Huckabee didn''t quite know what to say or where his leader was going with this tirade.


    "Huck. I''d like you to explore the ancient goblin king''s palace for me, and take Dee with you. If the goblins are organizing, that''s where they''d do it."


    The order made Huckabee jump, he started sweating. "I-isn''t that near where we think the orc camp is?"


    "Then. Do. It. Sneakily! We have to nip threats in the bud before they become a danger. That''s how we protect ourselves. Understand?"


    "Y-yes, boss." Now he''d done it. She was angry with him.


    "Dismissed." She threw in some knightly formality to get rid of him when he didn''t get the conversation was over.


    "Y-yes." Huckabee hurried out of the tent, thoroughly on edge.


    Lydia wasn''t in a particularly good mood herself. She leaned on her desk and folded her hands into one another. She had pretended it had been her own decision, but the order came from up high, the leaders of the Thieves'' Guild used their leverage over them more and more every single year. The bandits were little more than their attack force right now, minions that guard smuggling routes. It used to be a lot more equal, when the bandits had control over the goods stolen from caravans and the thieves bought it from them. But that was before her time at this side of the law, nowadays they spend their time on a leash, waiting on hands and feet on a reward the thieves had no incentive to hand out, but only they could offer. That promise of return to society is what kept her people going, so they had to continue doing the bidding of that horrible anonymous leadership.


    <hr>


    Goblin King


    Family: Demons


    Threat Level: A


    Reward: Not Standardized


    The goblin king is a demonic entity that enters the overworld by possessing the body of a newborn goblin. Its demonic magic causes the body to swell up massively, making it resemble a highly obese and gigantic goblin, nearly immobile in its swollen state. The goblin king posses a wealth of knowledge and a variety of spells, but its strongest power is to inspire the loyalty of goblins and other subhumans with its tremendous size.


    The appearance of a goblin king is an international threat, if left to their own devices these beings will eventually unify enough monsters to take over the world. There have been instances of a demon king being a goblin king. The slaying of a goblin king is considered a quest of level A, meaning it can only be issued by nobility and the reward is decided by the requester.


    A goblin king on their own is quite weak, they rely on massive amounts of goblin and hobgoblin footsoldiers to fight form them.

 Various Tales

    I effortlessly cut through the goblin troupe. All of them except three are instantly cut in half, the surviving members flee.


    Eeeeh? I didn''t expect that. Weren''t goblin bones supposed to be as strong as human bones? I definitely remember having to hack into one two or three times to kill them for sure.


    ¡¾Wow! That''s the rose hero for you!¡¿ Alpheba proclaims loudly.


    ¡¾Looks like that new sword is doing wonders.¡¿ Margaret says.


    My new sword? Is it really that sharp? Isn''t that a bit OP? That''s too OP isn''t it? I guess I''m attacking beginner mobs with end level equipment.


    Thank you mister dwarf. I mentally thank the dwarf that made it for me.


    ¡¾Shouldn''t we chase after them?¡¿ Alpheba asks.


    Aaaah! She''s so innocent. Cute!


    ¡¾They won''t come back.¡¿ Margaret explains. ¡¾Goblins don''t run away unless they see a force that is truly beyond them on all levels.¡¿


    ¡¾What kind of goblins were those?¡¿ Alpheba asks. ¡¾Were they a special type?¡¿


    ¡¾Hey! Aren''t you supposed to know all this? You''re a witch you know!¡¿


    ¡¾I''m only an apprentice!¡¿ she says, wildly swinging her arms in frustration. ¡¾I don''t know everything about every monster.¡¿


    ¡¾They were normal goblins.¡¿ I explain, looking at the remains on the road. ¡¾They were just covered in mud.¡¿


    ¡¾Uuugh.¡¿ Margaret groans. ¡¾I don''t want to look at them.¡¿


    Wait. I look at two of the goblins more closely. Those are shoes. I mean, they''re not very good shoes, but they''re shoes! What goblin wears shoes?


    And there''s more here! A big knife!


    I pick it up.


    ¡¾Wooow.¡¿ Alpheba proclaims wonder at the knife. ¡¾I thought goblins only used clubs.¡¿


    ¡¾Goblins steal a lot, they use whatever they can find as weapons.¡¿ I say. ¡¾This probably belonged to a human.¡¿


    ¡¾No.¡¿ Margaret is suddenly very serious. ¡¾That is an orc knife.¡¿


    ¡¾O-orcs?¡¿ Alpheba begins to panic.


    ¡¾Don''t worry!¡¿ I try to calm her down. ¡¾Margaret and I are both D level adventurers, we can handle orcs easily.¡¿


    ¡¾But what about the farms here?¡¿ She says. ¡¾They''ll be pillaged by the horde!¡¿


    ¡¾One knife doesn''t mean there''s a horde.¡¿ Margaret explains calmly. ¡¾That thing could be decades old.¡¿


    Alpheba calms down. ¡¾You''re right. Let''s continue searching for that flower.¡¿


    ¡¾I''m afraid we''ll have to part ways here.¡¿ Margaret sighs as we come to the intersection. ¡¾I''m not going to find Laurus or a friend of his in the witchwood.¡¿


    ¡¾Good luck finding your friend.¡¿ I shake her hand.


    ¡¾Thank you. Good luck with your quest.¡¿


    ¡¾Don''t forget to tell Laurus about me.¡¿


    ¡¾I''ll try.¡¿ She gives an awkward smile.


    Then we split up.


    I sure hope to meet this Laurus. If I''m correct, then I have found a fellow reincarnator.


    It seems like ages ago now, that I was Sato Yui, normal Japanese highschool girl. Now I am Beatrice Dichtershire, a hero of noble birth in a fantasy land.


    <hr>


    The days were ever so slightly getting longer again and the snow was melting.


    When the trader envoy set out again the white stuff was relegated to the occasional tuft at the side of the road, but the morning dew still had an icy quality to it.


    They had two locations to visit, one the meeting point for an organized group of goblins that was at least as large as their own, the other a half a dozen relatively young goblins that lived in a muddy hole in the ground. This trek should last shorter than the last, they would probably be able to return by evening.


    "Isn''t it exciting?" Kicker said. "We don''t know what we''re going to get."


    "It better be worth or time." Teeth commented.


    "We''ve got what they wanted, don''t we?" Kicker asked Biter, who was walking behind the little sled.


    "Cups and vases for the bird group, stone-tipped spears for the cat group." He answered, referring to the tribes by the most prominent creatures they shared their territory with.


    "I think the cat group needs food more than we do."


    "Well, that''s what the spears are for, aren''t they? Hunting."


    They were stopped from discussing it further by Teeth suddenly drawing his sword. They stopped in their tracks and readied their own slings in response.


    Right before them stood a tall flightless bird. One typical for that part of the forest.


    It had been known to attack goblins with its sharp talons and beak.


    "Come then. Bring it on!" Teeth shouted loudly, thumping his chest with his free hand. But the creature ran off, leaving the oldest of the three brothers disappointed.


    If it had come to a fight both parties would have been severely wounded, and who would have survived was up in the air. Either way, the outcome would be undesirable, not the kind of thing you''d encourage with a ''bring it on!''.


    "Anyway, do you know what the word is for cups and vases made from clay?" Kicker asked, ignoring what just had happened and continuing onwards dragging the sled.


    "It''s crockery, isn''t it?" Biter answered.


    "Ah, so you do know."


    "I think we learned it at the same time."


    <hr>


    "It''s not very long until sunrise." Huckabee whispered.


    "This is stupid. Why didn''t you just tell the boss about the hobgoblins." Dee snapped at him, trying to sneak along with him through the frost encrusted forest edge, all the while possessing the stealth and subtlety of a berserking mammoth. "On top of that, why do I have to come?"


    "I tried." He pleaded. "She wanted to have proof it wasn''t orcs. I told you this."


    They both stiffened as an ice cassowary burst through the underbrush and ran past them.


    "Why are you spooked by a level F monster?" Dee admonished her colleague.


    "Wh-? You froze too!"


    "Shhhh!"


    He had raised his voice while they were on a stealth mission. The magical bird may have been in the lowest threat category set by the Adventurers'' Guild, hobgoblins and orcs were not, and both were monsters that collected in large groups.


    So they continued trashing through the layers of dead plant matter on the forest floor, in search of the ruins of the old palace.


    <hr>


    "Fat, hold out your hand." Scratch commanded.


    It was getting warmer now and with less work around and some prisoners to do it for them the boys saw fit to relax in front of the cave in the sun from time to time.


    Currently there were about four goblins there, loitering and doing nothing. Scratch had been clipping his nails with the leader''s knife and now demanded his brother to show him his nails.


    "Your nails are too long, it''s time for a manicure."


    "What are you doing?" Fat said, letting his leader grab his hand and slice of the front of his fingernails one by one. "I need those."


    "You''ll hurt yourself if they get too long."


    "No. I need them for fighting." Despite his protestations he didn''t struggle against the treatment.


    "You''re gonna scratch them? Please." Said the goblin that had been named after the act of scratching. "We''ve got spears and axes all around, you can even carry a fork with you if you want."


    He didn''t stop his work while talking.


    "It''s a trick." hummed Dumb. "If you can''t fight without weapons you have to stay with us to live."


    "Aww- Scratch. I''m not gonna leave." Fat said affectionately.


    Dumb scoffed.


    Scratch laughed. "I see some holes in your theory- give me your other hand, Fat- I see some holes in your theory Dumb."


    He continued on Fat''s left hand.


    "First of all, anybody that has a weapon in his hands can just take it and leave with it."


    "Hhm-hm." Dumb gave a disinterested confirmation, he had made a joke and now it was turning into a whole lecture.


    "Second..." Scratch paused a bit to concentrate on the fragile pinkie, "fingernails grow back. And last of all..." He let go of Fat''s hand. "...I am a magnanimous and kind leader and would never do something like that. There you go."


    Fat looked at his fingers, it gave a neater and cleaner feeling to have them end at the end of the finger.


    "Scream doesn''t have to cut his nails." Dumb said.


    "You want to be like those guys? You know, even they can''t have them grow too long. They bite them off, like this." Scratch pretended to chew on his fingers, trying to make the kids laugh. Then he became serious again. "Now, you show me your fingers, Dumb."


    "nooooo-" his protestations fell on deaf ears.


    <hr>


    "Why are we giving weapons to these gangs?" His co-conspirator wanted to know. "You said you wanted to get rid of gangs.


    "Simple Ceasarian strategy." He answered inspecting the firing chamber on a smuggled pistol.


    "I know what you''re doing, you want me to ask you to explain it further. Well I won''t give you the satisfaction, Scissoring strategy it is."


    He gave her a raised eyebrow. "You, do know who Ceasar was, don''t you?"


    "Yeah, a Roman emperor, so what?"


    "Before he was an emperor, he was an imperator. He knew when conquering Gaul that if he declared war against all tribes of the region, no military would be big enough. Instead, he created vassal tribes, he armed smaller tribes that were willing to work with him to take over their neighbours. He made sure they fought amongst each other, instead of the larger power. The internal power structures in the region left them weakened, the people in power were the ones most reliant on his patronage, and any unification of tribes against him was delayed until it was much too late to stop the roman forces."


    "Okay. So it''s just that ''divide and conquer'' thing."


    "Exactly."


    "Just say that! Why do you have to be so damn pretensious all the time?"


    <hr>


    The sun was at its highest point when the Scratch clan envoy reached the trading post for the Bird territory group.


    For some reason the chosen spot was at a place where the population of birds was the highest, there was no point at which not at least one of them was visible. Luckily they were furtive creatures and they weren''t likely to attack out of nowhere.


    "Did we agree on a time?" Kicker asked.


    "I don''t think so." Biter answered.


    "We''ll wait until sunset." Teeth decided.


    As it turned out, they didn''t have to wait that long to meet the goblin tribe.


    When they had settled in their place and were sitting on the sled in boredom they were suddenly assaulted by a dazzling fast flying tiny spear that impacted into the crockery and made it explode all over the place.


    Aware of the concept of a projectile Teeth had his sword in his hand and was charging in the direction it had come from before the cloud of dust dissipated.


    Into focus came the small figure of a goblin, wearing a shirt of interconnected metal rings and wielding a complicated instrument, he quickly fumbled another bolt on his crossbow and aimed it at his target before he had time to close the distance.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.Kicker and Biter released stones from their slings and sent them arcing over Teeth''s head. They didn''t hit their attacker, but it made him flinch, giving Teeth enough time to jump on him and jab his sword above his collarbone. They both fell to the ground, Teeth on top of the enemy, his weapon still lodged in his body, and the enemy still clutching the loaded weapon. It seemed like the other was about to activate the mechanism and drive the projectile into teeth''s stomach, but his eyes rolled back and his hands lost their strength, he was dead.


    Teeth stood up and pulled his sword out of the cadaver by the time his sidekicks arrived, there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes.


    "Human weapons." Biter said.


    "Are you sure?" Kicker asked.


    "Not even Scratch can make something like this." He answered, kicking the peculiar ranged weapon. The impact made it go off and a bolt shot between them into a distant tree.


    "Whoa."


    "Awesome."


    Teeth was still on edge and looking around. "Be quiet, I''m listening."


    The two younger siblings looked at each other and then questioningly at Teeth.


    "What are you listening for." Kicker whispered.


    "They''re all around. It was an ambush."


    Then they heard it too, the scuttling feet on the forest floor, the hushed voice from behind the treetops, there was a whole tribe of goblins surrounding them.


    "Come then!" Teeth screamed. "Come out and show yourself!"


    Out came a single elderly goblin, he had his empty open palms turned towards them to show he wasn''t a danger.


    "You kill leader. We give up." He exclaimed from a distance.


    "Why did you attack us?"


    "Afraid, thought you is human."


    "He''s lying." Biter whispered, still turning around, catching glimpses of the tribe. "This is the group that agreed to meet us here."


    "It was a trap." Kicker agreed, speaking metaphorically with the image of a rabbit snare in his mind.


    "Come here." Teeth order the enemy negotiator. "I said COME HERE!" He yelled when the goblin hesitated and violently slashed the side of a tree with his weapon.


    When the creature approached him he suddenly lunged at him and grabbed him by the hair, he began sobbing miserably.


    "Where did you get that weapon, huh?" He put the tip of his sword against his throat threateningly.


    It didn''t take advanced interrogation tactics to make him talk. "Big pig. Big pig give us weapon. Big pig say ''defeat other goblins''. Us do what big pig says."


    "Big... pig?" Is that a goblin? Kicker asked.


    The enemy shook is head as much as he could with his hair painfully pulled by Teeth. His face was a drooping teary mess.


    Teeth slid his throat and threw him on the ground. "Let''s go. Biter, you pull the sled this time."


    Around them a small army of goblins simply started running away in all directions.


    <hr>


    The old palace was abuzz with activity.


    It had been the homebase of a small group of primitive goblins for almost a month now. With the place in ruins after an ancient war and countless of years abandonment it didn''t have much useful rooms anymore. However, the throne room still offered some protection against the elements.


    Currently the occupants of the ruins were being slaughtered by a pair of orcs, beastmen with pig-like features and full access to steel tools and protection.


    The large pigmen had brought their own army of subservient goblins, some of which they had trusted with their own steel weaponry. Eventually the last remaining occupants turned to flee, one or two servant goblins gave chase but the orcs stayed where they were. They made their pig noises at each other and seemed agitated over something, frantically searching for something between the half-buried rooms that they couldn''t find.


    Dee and Huckabee were hiding by what remained of the the goblin king''s old palanquin, a massive thing that had required dozens of goblins to carry their king around back in the day.


    "Are they looking for something?" Dee wondered.


    "Shhhh!" Huckabee shushed her in a panicked fashion. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead.


    "Let''s sneak around and get a closer look." She whispered, already making ready to do so.


    "What, are you crazy? Do you have any idea what orcs do to prisoners? I mean, you''re a woman, it''s worse for you."


    She thought about it for a bit and then reconsidered. "Do we make a run for it?"


    "They''d definitely notice that, we''ve got to stay here and wait until they leave."


    "Huck, I don''t like the idea of doing nothing."


    "Dee, you''ll fucking well survive it."


    <hr>


    "Could it be that the mystics were wrong?" Gubok of the orcs said, in their own language that accommodated their pig-like mouths and throats.


    "You''d do very well to watch your tongue around me, youngling." His elder, Ragar, responded. "The mystics are not to be doubted. The dungeon core is around here somewhere. It must have been what shaped the demon incarnate that ruled here."


    "Well, it''s not here." The youngling said, frustrated. "They said it''d be here and it''s not. Just these... humanoids." He had a disgusting look at his face when talking about the beings. "I thought we were supposed to keep clear of humanoids."


    "These stunted humanoids are not the dangers we were warned about, it''s the pink humanoids that form a threat to our operation, the green ones can function as slaves. Now show some deference before I put you to work with them, the dungeon core must be underground somewhere."


    "Speaking off..." Gubok changed the subject. "I suppose you''ve smelled them by now."


    "You mean the cowards behind the big stool. I have."


    "I suppose we better take care of them, so they don''t report this to their king."


    "I suppose we better do that. We''ll take them alive to find out where their camp is."


    "The female... smells delicious."


    "Not until after we''ve found the dungeon core Gubok, you useless shote."


    <hr>


    First was surprised by the sight of the juvenile human.


    She was smaller than even himself and robed in layers of the human-made cloth and distributing feed to the different caged animals. The difference between them was striking, it made him feel self-conscious about his dirty green skin and makeshift fur clothing.


    "Mr. Goat, you''ve had enough. This is for Ms. Goat." She babbled against the creatures while sticking long plants into the pen for them to munch on.


    She continued on talking to the livestock in this manner while spreading around crumbs, plants and food rests. She even patted the heads of the geese that were allowed to walk around freely through the camp. "Be good, okay."


    After a while it seemed like she was about to leave.


    "They can''t talk." First said. "They don''t understand what you''re saying."


    The girl seemed a bit shocked by him suddenly speaking but then wildly shook her head in response. "Nu-uh, all animals can talk. They just don''t want to."


    "How rude!" First exclaimed. "Are they ignoring us?"


    "No..." She thought about it. "It''s because... they don''t have to, you know? Because we''ll feed them anyway, because we love them."


    First stared at a goose, it stared back at him and honked.


    "My name is Cobaline." The girl said, sticking her hand out, but not coming close enough for him to grab it. "My mom said not to come too close to the goblin."


    "My name is... First." First mimicked her gesture without knowing what it was for. "My brothers told me not to come close to humans."


    "First." She giggled. "Why is your name First?"


    "Because I was the first to be born."


    "Okay. Bye." She ran off.


    "Wait..."


    The human called Huckabee had been feeding him, but after finding out about Horns he had left, presumably to let him die. First hadn''t eaten in a full day. He looked at the goose again. "I suppose you won''t tell her to bring me some of those breadcrumbs." But the bird refused to even look at him.


    <hr>


    Teeth was caked in dried blood when the trio arrived at the hole in the ground that was used by the muddy goblins. It was more than a little intimidating, but Biter managed to calm them down. They weren''t here to fight, fighting had just happened to them.


    Just two of the cat group members were present and they had laid out their trade ware on a bed of large leaves. It was an unrecognizable pile of meat. Whatever creature it was, it had its head and skin removed, as well as the feet on all four limbs.


    "Is it worth it?" Kicker asked Teeth. But he already knew the answer, they didn''t have much use for the spears and this was a comparatively large amount of meat.


    "Not coming all this way for." Teeth answered. "But since we''re here already... why not."


    They put the prize, leaves and all, on the sled. There was plenty of room with the earthenware shards discarded and the spears finally handed over.


    With not much appetite for socializing the party was set to return pretty much immediately.


    Their trading partners stood in the same place in absolute silence, keeping them in their sight until they were too far away to see.


    "Think this is a trap too?" Kicker said. "Think they gave use weird monster meat?"


    "I''m only thinking about my warm fluffy bed." Biter responded. "I''m glad we''ll be back before bedtime today."


    <hr>


    "Unhand me, you pig!"


    "Oh, real original."


    "What, are you on their side now?"


    Dee and Huckabee had been tied up against a tree by the orcs, but they didn''t stop arguing between themselves.


    "Greeeonk!" The younger orc squealed at them, if the pig creature had been capable of speech it would have said "Silence!" or something like that. Every time he fell out against them, the other orc got mad at him.


    "Look at that, you made him angry!"


    "What? Me? Like he was such a bundle of joy before."


    "Whatever, will you keep it down?"


    "Ah, I see. I''m the noisy one, huh? Mister ''unhand me, you villain''."


    "First of all-"


    In a mad rage the orc smashed the gigantic war axe into the tree, right between them. "Greonk!" This time he was pulled aside and squeeled at by the older orc. His impatience with the prisoners was a point of contention with his own ally. When the older orc left again th younger one eyed them angrily, but staying silent.


    "First of all..." Huckabee proceeded to whisper. "I did not say that. And second-"


    "I didn''t say you said that."


    "Well you heavily implied it, and secondl-"


    "No I didn''t. I said it''s the same thing."


    "Woman, will you let me finish?"


    They had gone from whispering to raising their voices again.


    Grasping his snout in irritation the guard stomped off to cool down.


    "Excellent work, Huck."


    "Huh, what?"


    "It''s a good thing you saw what I was doing and played along."


    "Uhh, yeah. Haha."


    "Do you still have that knife hidden in your sleeve?"


    "I have."


    "Great, cut us down, we''ll make a run for it."


    <hr>


    "Is that all?" Fat said dissapointedly.


    "We had to fight." Kicker proclaimed.


    "We almost died!" Biter added angrily.


    "We''re glad you all survived." Second said, quickly occupying the space between the offended parties to pick up the meat. "What... kind of animal is this exactly?"


    All three traders shrugged simultaneously.


    The rest of the day was slow paced. There were a few chores, cleaning, cooking and carving furniture, but most of it could be spend relaxing in the sun and playing hide-and-go-seek in front of the cave. The various buildings and workstations made for a great hiding landscape.


    For dinner Fat and Quiet set up a large barbeque to roast the mystery meat on, together with the last of the cattail roots.


    Scratch had been absorbed in a project all day and finally came outside when the smell of the meat roasting started to spread.


    He took one look at the carcass being spitroasted above the fire. "That''s a goblin isn''t it?"


    The humanoid shape of the skeleton was undeniable.


    Scratch ate vegetarian that day, him being the leader half of the tribe followed suit and a large portion of the thing was left when dinner was over.


    <hr>


    Ice Cassowary


    Family: Bird


    Threat Level: F


    Reward: 1 copper piece


    The ice cassowary is an elementally aligned monster, completely immune to cold and extremely weak to fire. Because their weakness is so well documented they are considered a very low threat, but if for any reason an adventurer does not have access to fire abilities the creature can form a significant obstacle. Their main weapon is their head casque, which they use to attack their foes, each other and obstructing flora.


    Ice cassowaries are mostly active during the winter or in northern territories and go into hibernation when the weather is warm. They posses a degree of animal intelligence and grow to fear humans and humanoids in places near civilization but are a lot more confident and belligerent in territories with no nearby civilization. They can not be domesticated and do not contain useful ingredients.

 Extermination Mission

    "Do you think you can make it work?" Second asked cautiously.


    "Probably not." Scratch fumbled with the device.


    It was called a ''crossbow'' and it used specially crafted ammunition. Kicker and Biter had insisted on taking it along and they had taken two of the crossbow bolts with it. Currently Scratch was trying to get one of them loaded into the weapon via a cranking mechanism to pull the string back.


    "Okay, stand back." He positioned his arms to grab the implement without sitting in the path of the moving parts and held it in front of his working eye to aim.


    The brother had strung up the uneaten carcass against a tree for target practice.


    "Fire!"


    As the string flung forward the upper part of the crossbow bolt scraped his cheek, drawing blood. It made a straight line right over the target, missing it by half again its own length.


    "It worked! It worked!" Laugh clapped joyfully.


    "It missed." Digger said.


    "Scratch always misses." Dumb added casually. "He can''t use slings either."


    "If you''re so clever, you try it." Scratch threw him the weapon and went to retrieve the bolt.


    -


    When he came to the tree and stood on his toes to pull out the projectile he noticed that the impact had ruined it.


    "Ah, it ruined it."


    The other bolt raced past his arm right into the carcass as he turned around.


    "JESUS!"


    "See?" Dumb came running to inspect his hit. "No problem for me."


    Scratch pulled the weapon out of his grasp with one hand and slapped him across the face with another.


    "Ah!"


    "You idiot, you almost shot me!"


    "No. I didn''t! I aimed at the target."


    "You aimed at the target... you aimed at the target..." He was losing his composure and calmness. "If you shoot when other people are in the way, eventually you WILL kill someone!"


    Dumb didn''t know what to say, he started tearing up from getting slapped and yelled at. "I didn''t...I..."


    "It''s alright, shush, it''s alright." Scratch gave him a dispassionate hug to defuse the situation. "Just... never do that again? Okay? Ever."


    -


    "Can I try?" Asked Laugh.


    "We ruined the bolts." Scratch answered, Dumb still in his embrace. "We''d have to find a way to make new ones."


    "It would make us a lot safer if we could." Digger said.


    "I wonder about that." Scratch patted Dumb''s back. "I really do."


    <hr>


    "I''m not allowed to come close." Cobaline muttered.


    "Don''t come close. Just use that axe on the floor to push it towards me." First tried.


    He had been convincing the girl to give him some of the animal feed. All he needed was a single bowl, she could leave it on the ground for him to grab, he reasoned.


    Cobaline looked around and found the stone axe Scratch had made. Huckabee had questioned him about it and just left it to lie around afterwards. Obediently she followed his suggestion and awkwardly pushed a bowl of sloppy pig''s gruel towards him. I his hunger First stretched his arm out with his face against the bars to grab it as soon as possible.


    It was so close, just a little bit closer, a bit more... one more push-


    -


    "OOOOOOOOOOOORCS OOORCS!"


    "Everybody there''s orcs coming!"


    The panicked voices of Huckabee and his female friend shook the entire camp awake.


    Cobaline dropped the axe in shock, practically throwing it.


    -


    "Cobaline, there you are!" A woman picked up the child and ran off with her.


    Everywhere people were running about, grabbing belongings, leaving their tents. It reminded First very strongly of the reaction the village goblins had had when they had stormed in to save Scratch. He doubted these ''orcs'' were here to save him however.


    But he did notice the handle of the axe had toppled towards him, he could touch the very tip with his finger nail. With repeated tries, perhaps he could incrementally drag it towards himself...


    <hr>


    "So you ran back and led them to us?" Lydia Harkness spit the words out like an angry llama.


    Huckabee was apologetic "I''m sorry, boss. We didn''t know what to do. We-"


    "Were else were we supposed to go!?" Dee said indignantly.


    Lydia started pacing to and fro. She snapped her fingers at a guard for him to listen to what she was about to say.


    "We need to evacuate the footfolk, collect our fighters to form a line of defense while they make their escape."


    She pointed at Dee and Huckabee. "That counts for you two too. What you were supposed to do is what we''re going to do now, put our lives at risk for the good of the group. Now go!"


    -


    As they walked out of the tent Huckabee slapped Dee at the back of the head. She didn''t even respond, that''s how shocked she was at the development.


    <hr>


    I''m back in Eston. Man, this is such a boring city, a total beginner area. I''m strolling around the marketplace, but nobody sells anything that''s meant for adventurers.


    ¡¾Laurus, Laurus!¡¿ Margaret is with me, she''s grabbing my arm and pushing her chest against me.


    Eeeek! Don''t look! I definitely shouldn''t peek at her cleavage.


    Dammit. I looked.


    Women make me nervous.


    ¡¾Laurus. Are you listening? I think we could try to defeat the storm dragon in the sky dungeon.¡¿


    -


    Ah! Sorry Margaret, I have made promises elsewhere. Silphie and the others are expecting me to exterminate the goblins.


    ¡¾I uh, have a mission in the woods.¡¿


    She looks a little disappointed but then very serious. ¡¾I understand. So we only came back here to prepare.¡¿We?


    ¡¾You still want to come along?¡¿ It''ll be boring you know.


    ¡¾D-don''t you want me in your party?¡¿ She pouts her lips while pushing closer against me.


    No! That''s not what I meant by that at all!


    I say nothing, I try my best not to look at her boobs.


    ¡¾It''s about the orcs, isn''t it?¡¿


    What? Orcs? ¡¾What do you mean?¡¿


    ¡¾When I was in the forest looking for you, there was a goblin with an orc weapon. The hidden people must have seen them! Is there an orc horde in the Eston area?¡¿


    People around us stop to stare.


    Wait a minute, if there are orcs giving the goblins weapons then those have to take priority, right? And besides, those weapons are probably what''s making the goblins a problem in the first place. If I instead go fight these orcs, then that counts as fulfilling my promise too, right?


    ¡¾Yes.¡¿ I put my finger to my lips. ¡¾We''re going to chase away the orc horde. But I''ve been keeping quiet about it not to alarm the people here.¡¿


    ¡¾Oh!" She clasps her mouth. ¡¾Sorry.¡¿


    ¡¾It''s alright.¡¿


    -


    Aaargh! Don''t look at her boobs!


    <hr>


    It was confusing what exactly was happening in the camp. Most of the residents were leaving, they had big carts with wheels for their belongings and packed pretty much everything on they possessed.


    However, the strongest of the humans were staying, they were putting on their armor, sharpening their blades and preparing themselves for a fight.


    First didn''t spend much energy trying to sleuth the situation, he had successfully retrieved his axe. With the thing firmly grasped between his hands he had enough room inside the cage for a full-body swing. He practiced aiming for a bit but then decided to hold off escaping until most of the humans were gone. The loud noise could prompt them to respond.


    -


    After a couple of minutes of silence, any sound of humans coming from far in the distance, he made the decision to try his luck. He hadn''t swung the thing in days and his body was stiff from inactivity, so when he spun around on his heals he audibly grunted from the pain. But the tool hit its mark, the hinges on the cage door, spectacularly shattering the stone head and significantly deforming the cage part. He his it a few more times with what remained of the axe and at the end fumbled with the parts himself, using his hands, until he got the door to fall off. He was free.


    -


    First left his ruined weapon behind. He jumped out of the cage and straight onto the meal Cobaline had pushed towards him. He grabbed the bowl and messily slurped down the pig feed. He retched, it was disgusting, Quiet''s fish and vegetables had spoiled him. With the slobber still on his chin he proceed to cautiously and stealthily sneak through the abandoned camp.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    The forest line was visible. When he reach that he could start running without the humans noticing. He wondered about Yeller and Teeth, hopefully they had escaped safely.


    -


    Just when he thought he had found a clear path to victory his nose was filled with the enticing aroma of freshly roasted meat. The slobber couldn''t have been what the humans ate themselves. His stomach growled painfully, it seemed like escape was going to have to wait.


    <hr>


    "The orcs?" Barbara looked alarmed.


    "That''s what the nightshade hero and his girlfrien'' were talking about." Her fellow guild member said.


    They were at the dockyards, retrieving precious gems that had been smuggled into the city inside crates meant for fruit.


    "Have you told anyone else about this?"


    "Uh, no. I mean. I would nae know where ta go. I don''t have a sister like yers."


    Barbara cringed at the mention of her more successful sibling. "Who knows if she really even saw anything? It wouldn''t be the first time a purty dame misled ye, GEORGE." She lashed out at him irrationally.


    He quickly changed the subject. "But, this is bad, aint it? If they tell Dichtershire, we''re neck deep in military o''er here."


    "That''s for the leadership to break their heads over. Not you. I''ll go pass it on. Besides..." She paused to reseal a crate. "Goblins pick up any old junk they''ll find. It''s probably some discarded adventurers'' item. There''s lots of ''em around all of a sudden. I saw the Rose hero take an escort mission last week. Was wielding some rare equipment too."


    "Adventurers..." George scoffed.


    "Doncha say that kind of thing out loud. Adventurers are very beloved by people that aren''t part of the thieves'' guild."


    "Or bandits."


    "Or bandits."


    <hr>


    "Look who I found sneaking about!" The bandit had First firmly grasped by his hair.


    "It''s you!" Huckabee said, surprised at seeing the goblin again.


    "This is all his fault!" Dee fumed.


    Harkness was standing behind them and grabbed both their heads to bash them together.


    "AH!"


    "Ow"


    "This is all YOUR fault, you imbeciles. You''re the ones letting yourself get caught and leading them here."


    "So what do we do with it?" The guard asked.


    "If we let him go he''ll just run back to his orc masters." Harkness responded.


    "Let me go!" First yelled. "I don''t even know what an orc is."


    "See? See?" Huckabee pointed triumphantly at the goblin, still rubbing his painful head. Dee elbowed him to shut him up.


    -


    Surprised herself Harkness crouched in front of First. "What''s your name?"


    "..." He looked around unsurely, the guard loosened the grip on his hair slightly. "First."


    "Why were you in our camp First?"


    He was worn down, no longer having the energy or will to resist. "We wanted food."


    -


    "A goblin raider. There''s no real mystery to it."


    "Just kill it."


    There were voices all around from bandit warriors that had gathered to see what the commotion was about.


    -


    "Silence!" The boss stood up and turned around to address the group. "For stealing food? For going hungry? Aren''t half of you thieves by necessity?"


    There was a dissatisfied murmur over their own pitiable circumstances leaving them to be compared to a goblin.


    Lydia looked down at the captive. "You say you''re not with the orcs, we''ll give you the chance to prove it."


    First''s eye twitched. This had better not go where he thought it would go.


    "You''ll be forming the first line of defense with us. If you survive, we''ll let you go."


    First tried to shake himself loose, but the grip on his hair strengthened again.


    If I survive? What do you mean ''if''? Death is certain!


    <hr>


    "Guboook!"


    "Ah, Ragar. Uhm, hi."


    "Have you been following the humanoids?"


    "Yes, I have. I''ve found their camp... more or less."


    "What do you mean more or less?" Rag grabbed his junior by the chest plate in an intimidating fashion. "They didn''t spot you, did they?"


    The warrior troupe he had brought with him made angry snorting noises. They had volunteered for a surprise attack to massacre some humanoids, not an organized battle against a foe that knew they were coming.


    "Well... you see...they, sort of did."


    Ragars hand grasped Gubok''s neck.


    "That is to say, even before we split up, as far as I understaaah~"


    "You''ll be leading us to the enemy, Gubok, and when we''re there I''ll decide whether or not to grant mercy." His grip relaxed and Gubok gasped for breath.


    "Yes, Ragar."


    -


    The warriors seemed taken aback and doubtful. Ragar took his warhammer from his belt and clanged it loudly against his shield. "Hoo-ah! Hoo-ah!"


    The others started to join in the chant, he was whipping them into a frenzy.


    <hr>


    "Why stand here waiting for them?" First whined. "Why not just flee?"


    "I agree with the goblin." Dee said. "As strange of a sentence as that is."


    "We''re here Dee, to stop their advancement and keep them from catching up to the caravan." Harkness explained.


    Dee mumbled inaudibly.


    All of them were staring into the forest from where they expected the enemy to come. First was tied to a tree with a long rope to prevent fleeing, he had been allowed a helmet and a spiked club from the bandit equipment.


    -


    Slowly it started to become audible, the chanting.


    It was the middle of the day, so First''s vision was no better than the others, it didn''t take long for the others to notice them when he had.


    Large bipedal creatures with the heads of pigs and enormous rotund torsos. They wore black metal armor and weapons and were clanging their shields wildly to intimidate.


    "The knew we were expecting them." Harkness drew her short sword in one hand and a bunch of throwing knives in the other.


    "There''s only eight of them." First was relieved. There were close to twenty bandits there to resist them.


    "That''s too many." Harkness said.


    Huckabee gulped. "Out of all of us, only the boss can go toe to toe with an orc on her own. And that''s because she''s a knight."


    -


    An arrow was shot from their side, it bounced pathetically of an orc''s shield.


    Then the pig-men started running towards them.


    <hr>


    The fight was chaos.


    Only by the severe outward differences of the parties did they know who to attack and who not.


    First rolled around on the forest floor, bashing against the pigs'' protected legs and dashing away before they could focus on him.


    He started to have fun dodging and swinging until suddenly one of the large beast managed to jam a meat cleaver right into his hand, bisecting it vertically.


    "Aaaah" First fell to the damp forest soil, completely losing sense of his surroundings.


    When he thought to look up it was already two seconds later. The pigman loomed over him, knife raised overhead, ready to slash down and do the same to First''s skull.


    On closer inspection, the enemy was dead. When he had turned to attack First Dee and Huckabee had taken advantage of his divided attention to jam their swords into either side of his body. It took a moment before he slumped over, enough to scare First with his menacing pose.


    "I suppose..." Dee panted. "... that proves he''s not... with them."


    "Watch your six." Huckabee turned around to face an attacking orc that had just killed two of their comrades.


    -


    First looked around dazed.


    The humans were clearly losing, there were only 12 of them left to 5 orcs.


    Their tactic seemed to be for two each to attack an orc from different angles to find more openings, something that became harder the less of them were around.


    The orcs possessed an enormous strength and mowed down their enemies with wide and powerful motions, barely moving at all during the fight.


    The rope that bound him to the tree had been cut in the affray.


    The bandit leader was matched in a battle of strength with the larger orc, pushing her weapon against his.


    ...


    The rope had been cut! He could run away!


    <hr>


    The humanoid was speaking in its disgusting monkey language.


    It was offering an unexpected amount of resistance to Ragar''s force when their weapons clashed.


    "Very nice. It''s not everyday I meet a ''noid able to push back my warhammer." He stepped forward and drove her further back as he said that. "Perhaps I will keep you as a breeding sow."


    He didn''t expect her to understand his language, so he made slobbering noises with his tongue.


    When this battle was over they''d slaughter Gubok and feast on his flesh, after that they only needed to follow the trails of the carts to kill the non-combatants. There was no reason why he couldn''t schedule a rape in-between these activities.


    His flat-teethed smiled grew wider imagining what he would do to this woman, when suddenly his warhammer started to burn in his hand.


    A fiery red glow was emanating from the sword she had so firmly grasped in her two hands.


    "Magic!" Ragar sputtered in disgust. He had to drop his warhammer.


    Immediately bashed the woman with the shield in his other hand, knocking her against the ground.


    "Oh well." He grabbed the shield with both hands and brought it down towards her stomach.


    <hr>


    First was frozen in place.


    Now was his chance to run away from an unwinnable battle. It was common sense.


    He looked at the big orc push down the bandit leader.


    There it was. That had to decide it for him. There was no hope for this battle. But his body didn''t agree. Instead of fear he only felt increasing battle lust. The pain was taking over his mind, being a goblin this meant he could not resist fighting to the death.


    I never had common sense, did I?


    He pried the knife from the grasp of his dead attacker with his good hand and threw it at the largest orc. Before it had even hit he had grasped the club again and lifted it above his head too.


    -


    Just as the knife whizzed past the orc''s head he thrust his shield in the ground, inches away from Harkness'' feet as she rolled backwards.


    In a single movement the bandit leader rose to her feet and threw two throwing knives straight at First''s head.


    <hr>


    Lydia couldn''t help but hold her breath and keep her eyes on her own projectile as it flew through the air.


    Just as she had intended it ricocheted of the little goblin''s head and into the neck of the orc behind him, underneath the face guarding helmet and at an angle she wouldn''t have been able to reach with a direct toss.


    She had to focus on her own disgusting attacker again, he had risen to his feet in the time it took for her to watch the maneuver.


    This was clearly the only experienced orc warrior. She could only hope her subordinates were able to defend against the lesser forces while she kept the big one busy, but once in a while she could throw some minor assistance their way.


    She jumped backwards at the mad flailing of the beastman.


    "Getting mad? Good. That means you''re losing focus. How about some of... this." She elegantly spun her sword around into a reverse grip in order to put her hands together in the proper way for her most powerful spell. "Rhada''s breath!" As she said that she stretched her arms forward and a line of flame spewed from her hands, enveloping her enemy in fire.


    Unfortunately the orc had had the clearness of mind to cover his face with his shield.


    "That was the last of my magic..." she murmured under her breath, taking a defensive stance once more and confident the creature couldn''t understand her anyway. "...let''s see how long I''ll hold out against you without it."


    <hr>


    Huckabee felt a strange pang seeing the goblin lying on his back on the damp leaves.


    He had kind of rooted for the little fellow to survive.


    "Who''s left?" He wondered aloud as Dee was still stomping the skull of the orc they had worked to the ground together.


    Sintius and Beth were together with one orc, the leader was fighting the big one and Patrick was still on his feet but losing from the one with the small tusks.


    "Paddy!, oh no. This better go well. Dee, come!"


    "Don''t tell me what to do." But she did come.


    -


    Together they managed to take the orc that had disarmed Patrick by surprise, stabbing him in the ankles.


    "Patrick, are you alright?"


    "Nothin'' that can''t be healed."


    "What about Paulus?" Dee asked, looking at their motionless comrade.


    "I don'' know. I really don''.


    As he talked Patrick walked up to orc holding Sintius and Beth into the air and jammed an arrowhead into his ear from behind.


    <hr>


    Ragar was furious, he was burned and disarmed by magic and had spend way too much time clashing with this one woman.


    When his troops had finished the others he would take his sweet time abusing her. Perhaps he would eat her afterwards. Right now he was determined to beat her to a pulp.


    Just when the magic had run out and he had stomped the stamina out of her body her was suddenly pierced by an arrow in his thigh.


    He turned his head to see 4 humans standing and all of his own warriors dead or incapacitated.


    "You... apes!" He had no words. Somehow the humanoids had turned the battle around on them completely.


    The human he had been fighting stopped panting to pierce his eye with a knife. In his shock he barely felt it.


    "Gubok... you... useless shote."


    -


    On the ground, not too far off, with his ankles slit, Gubok watched the gruesome execution with little pity. He had always hated his elder. But he was still insulted that his last words were all but accusing him for failing them. With this, the battle was over and Gubok closed his eyes, playing dead.


    <hr>


    "Is he dead?"


    "The orc?"


    "The goblin."


    "I''m not dead." First opened his eyes and intruded on the conversation.


    "Playing dead huh?" Huckabee commented.


    "I was hit on the head."


    "Sorry about that." Harkness helped him to his feet. "I needed to hit something at an angle."


    "You''ve got a nasty gash there." Huckabee pointed at his ruined hand. "When we catch up to the rest we can have our healer fix it."


    "You want to use our magic on a goblin!?" Patrick said angrily.


    "Hey! First saved our lives distracting that knife guy." Dee reacted challengingly.


    "We''ve got enough healing magic for everyone." Harkness shut them down. "How many dead?"


    "Twelve." Patrick sighed. "Can''t heal the dead."


    "That''s more than half our warriors!" Huckabee exclaimed.


    "He can count everybody." Dee rolled her eyes.


    "Now is not the fucking time." Harkness'' eyes shot fire at both of them. "Retrieve the wounded and let''s get going."


    "Were are we going to settle now?" Beth asked.


    "Somewhere far away from the orcs." Dee answered. "Fuck the guild."


    <hr>


    "What in the world are you doing?"


    "Making bolts."


    Scratch had been busy underground, telling others what to do and where to dig. When he came to the surface he came back to a very morose Teeth, in the middle of a large pile of discarded wood shaving.


    "I think you need branches that are already close to that size, bud. Or otherwise a handsaw for getting wooden block at the appropriate dimensions."


    "Then make me a handsaw!" Teeth threw his carving knife to the ground in anger.


    "Hell''s bells, calm down, what''s gotten into you?"


    "I want to use the crossbow."


    "And then?"


    "Shoot humans."


    "Shoot humans!?"


    Teeth glared at him. "Yes. Why not?"


    Scratch didn''t look at him. "Not very tasty. Humans."


    "Not to eat..." Teeth clenched a fist and stared at it intensely.


    Scratch sighed. "Listen. Buddy. I''ll help you make those bolts. Truth be told, I think it''s better to be prepared too. But


    I''m seeing some things here that I don''t agree with. I want you to promise you''re not going to look for Yeller and First''s killer, okay?"


    "But...!"


    "Okay?"


    Teeth grumbled.


    "I''ll take that as a ''yes sir, if you please''."


    <hr>


    Magic


    All intelligent races possess the ability to use magic. Magical spells are techniques granted to us by the gods that make use of our own inner magic. Every school is associated with a god, for that reason the different nations have preferences for teaching magic related to their favored gods. Fire magic is taught in Reddington, as it is under the protection of the fire goddess Rhada, similarly Wind magic is popular in Blurich, water magic in Grienice and earth magic in the Yellow Fields.


    The nature of spells is of such complexity that new spells can not be created. The intricate patterns of the gods'' own magic techniques can only be copied.


    Before his death the god of evil must have left behind a large number of dark spells as well, as creatures such as liches and dark sorcerers are privy to magic no magic college has.

 Preparing for Battle

    First stared at his hand incredulously, moments before it had been mutilated beyond prepare, but with a few hand movements from the human the two halves melted together and feeling returned, as if he had never been injured.


    "It''s a good thing all the tissue was still there." The healer, whose name was Stanford, commented. "I can''t cast regenerative spells."


    "Don''t they say you should never use healing magic on a child?" Huckabee asked. " ''Cause they need pain to grow up right or somethin''?"


    "Hey, yeah. I heard that!" Dee said.


    "I think it might be too late for this guy." Stanford laughed, ruffling First''s hair. "I hear he''s already quite reckless."


    First didn''t talk, he continued staring at his hand.


    "Besides, I know they look like it, but goblins aren''t children. ''First'' here is a fully grown adult. You better keep an eye on him in case he tries anything." With those last words Stanford stole a glance at Dee, who noticed it.


    -


    The group had found a clearing to rest at, most of the tents were still folded up and they were sitting out in the open.


    As such, there was no clear barrier between groups and no sense of intrusion when joining a conversation. One of their fellow warriors, Patrick, approached to give his opinion.


    "I don''t like that we''re keeping monsters now, have we sunk that low?"


    First ground his teeth. "You know, I didn''t ask to be locked in a cage and made to fight those orcs. That''s on you people. I''ll be gone first thing in the morning, if that''s what you ask of me."


    "Oh my! How eloquent!" Stanford exclaimed in surprise.


    <hr>


    Margaret and I are flying across the treetops. She has the same kind of pegasus mount as me, but while mine is black hers is white. It''s fitting for a paladin that specializes in light magic.


    ¡¾How will we find them?¡¿ She yells at me over the sound of rushing wind.


    I have no idea actually. In video games it''s so easy, you wander about until you come across an orc, then you kill it, once you''ve killed a set number it''s ''mission complete''. Then again, in those video games the monster won''t stop appearing at all, which is supposed to be the goal of the mission!


    ¡¾Where did you find the knife?¡¿


    ¡¾Oh! We passed it already, it''s before the fork in the road.¡¿


    I pull Shadow''s reins to turn him around. Margaret makes her own wide arch to follow me.


    ¡¾What were you doing on that road?¡¿ I ask, riding closer to her in order to not have to yell as much.


    ¡¾Uh, what?¡¿


    ¡¾Did you need to be on the ground there? For a quest?¡¿


    ¡¾Well. No. That is, there were some people already going my way, so I tagged along.¡¿


    Now I''m intrigued.


    ¡¾Adventurers?¡¿


    Margaret is not looking me in the eyes for some reason. ¡¾I was... with a witch apprentice and her adventurer escort. They went to the witchwood, so they''re not here.¡¿


    It seems like her face has gone completely red. It''s probably nothing.


    <hr>


    Margaret could almost slap herself. She didn''t want to tell Laurus about the pretty girl that had wanted to meet him, but she also didn''t want to deceive him. If Beatrice did find him, he''d discover how she''d avoided having them meet. How awful would it be for Laurus to think of her as a dishonorable person!


    She could only hope that the noble girl would forget about her current infatuation and found a new hero to obsess over.


    -


    Margaret was so pre-occupied with her own thoughts that she almost flew over their intended destination. She had lady make a sudden dive to avoid looking ditzy in front of Laurus.


    With great spectacle she had lady rush headfirst towards the ground, only to pull up at the last second and land elegantly.


    Lady huffed and looked back at her in disapproval.


    "Sorry, Lady." She whispered. "I''ll make it up to you, I promise."


    "Wow." Laurus laughed, circling downwards. "That was amazing."


    "Well... haha, you know me. Can''t wait for some action." She play-acted.


    -


    She looked around, the goblin corpses were still lying there, undisturbed.


    "How strange, we killed these weeks ago. Before I found your neighbour and her friends."


    "Oh, that''s right. It was you who saved them, wasn''t it?"


    It wasn''t a direct compliment, but the acknowledgment of her heroism made her blush.


    "Shouldn''t the bodies have disappeared?" She wondered out loud.


    "I don''t think so." Laurus paced around the scene, looking for clues. "It''s still cold, the slimes haven''t woken up yet."


    Of course, that''s right! Margaret could slap herself again for saying something so stupid in front of the nightshade hero. Monsters'' bodies didn''t go up in smoke, they were eaten by slimes. In this part of the country slimes would hibernate during the winter, because of the cold.


    -


    "Do you collect world memories?" Laurus suddenly said.


    "No. Not really." Margaret stiffened. What kind of memory had Laurus found? Her lieing to the Dichtershire girl would not be significant enough for a memory to form, would it? Then again, there were ''broken promise'' memories, so there was a precedent.


    "Eh." Laurus sighed, dissapointedly. "Another ''vengeful goblin'' card, these aren''t rare at all." But he still pocketed the glistening playing card.


    Margaret sighed in relief. "You like card games Laurus?"


    "Sure, doesn''t everybody?"


    "Sure!"


    -


    After that they tracked down the hole in which the remainder of the goblins hid. It was pretty well camouflaged actually, but Laurus had life detecting magic.


    Although goblins are extremely primitive and disgusting, they do possess the ability to communicate to some degree. With some violence they can be made to talk.


    "Pig man give Loud weapon."


    Pig man, that means orc. The weapon was loud or something? Metal does have more of a clang to it than a wooden club.


    They made the mud covered goblins give them their best estimate of where the orcs had come from and then killed them.


    <hr>


    "Tadaaa" Scratch presented the new dish with pride and fanfare.


    They had been about to slaughter the chicken for eating breadcrumbs but producing no eggs. Dumb had pointed out that there was no precedent for chickens ever laying eggs and Scratch had relented, figuring that this could be one of the many ways this world of punishment differed from the real one. But Quiet had suggested that the bird might refuse to lay eggs because it didn''t have a nest for it.


    As a project to keep them busy Scratch had overseen the creation of a chicken coop, right outside the cave entrance, with a little bed of twigs for the chicken to make use off.


    Quiet had been correct, within two days they had gotten two eggs.


    -


    The kitchen was now located outside. The hearth inside the living room was too small to do everything, from baking bread to roasting meat, so right next to the bloomery a sixth hut had been build, with a pretty chimney of woven branches. Inside was a brick oven, a large stone cauldron and a pit for fire. There the two small chicken eggs had been hard boiled.


    Scratch was serving them peeled and in thin slices for everybody to try.


    -


    "Well, isn''t that a treat?" He asked.


    "Not really." Dumb answered, taking little bites.


    "Teeth?"


    "I ate it too fast. I didn''t really taste it." Teeth said dejectedly.


    "Pearls before swine!" Scratch sighed as he stood up again. "Anyway, you''d normally eat this with salt." Salt! Such a minor but crucial thing. I swear I''ll never complain about something being overly salty again. he thought.


    "How do you get salt?" Quiet inquired, in his usual soft spoken manner.


    "How do you get it... how do you get it?" He wondered to himself. Arduously. I only know that early civilization considered a rare and precious resource. "From sea water... or special kind of rocks I think."


    "Not rocks in mine." Digger said, in-between licking the plate. "Only eye-ron, shale, chalk and sandstone." He had perfectly memorized the types of rock Scratch had pointed out.


    "Maybe further down." Scratch mused as he collected the plate again, having to put some strength to pull it away from


    Digger. "It does seem layered like a cake." Not something that you would think could come into being naturally. Then again, who knows? When rabbit can spontaneously sprout horns, who knows?


    "Do you want us to get past the sand?" Scream asked.


    "Sure. You do that, the rest of us can focus on defenses now. We''ve got more to lose every day." There was a final tone to Scratch''s last words and everybody got up to leave. "Before you start. Take some time to clean your teeth. I mean the prisoners especially, you''re disgusting." He called out over the crowding.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    <hr>


    The bandits had formed a long caravan, travelling deeper into the woods. But First was not coming all the way with them.


    "Are you sure you''re going to leave? We trust you now. We can protect you." Lydia mentioned.


    First stared at the geese. "I''m not a pet." A word he had recently learned.


    "Are you going to find your way back to your den?"


    "I know where it is. This is where I go the other way."


    "Good, then this is goodbye." She kneeled and stuck out her hand.


    Once again First mimicked the gesture.


    She firmly grasped his hand and started shaking it.


    Her grip was strong, but her skin was soft. She had a pleasant smell to her. These things drew his attention to the curves and shape of her body, much more pronounced than the other women of the bandit troupe.


    At that moment First became aware of her as a woman. The blood rushed to his head as he was overcome with a desire to breed her. A few minutes longer in her presence and he would be trying to hump or grind her. Quickly he pulled away his hand and ran away as hard as he could. I don''t think I want to be a monster at all. Shot through his mind.


    Some distance away from the bandit procession he stopped to clear his head. His body was still fired up and ready to breed.


    "Bye bye!" A familiar voice came from behind. "Goodbye first goblin!" It was Cobaline, she had followed him to wave him off, her mother nowhere to be seen.


    I could grab her. First''s forehead started to sweat. I could take her and keep her in the cave. There was no doubt in his head that this was the path nature had intended for him.


    He dug his nails into his thigh, hoping to overpower one sensation with another. Above nature. Above nature. Even if all his intuition screamed at him to grab her, yet he knew that he wouldn''t be able to drag her halfway before being cut down. He knew that acting on base instincts was not something Scratch would do.


    He turned his gaze away from the girl and stumbled away, exhausted by his own exertion of willpower.


    <hr>


    "Ragar has failed." The orc mystic''s eyes shone with an otherworldly light as he received wisdom from his god.


    "Not surprising." Kubar smacked with his mouth full. He was a massive creature, a head taller than his fellow orcs, so he was able to claim the most food for himself, he never failed to make use of that privilege.


    "The humans have destroyed the extermination party, at great losses to their fighting force. They are fleeing the area, towards the magical woods."


    "Towards the fairies?" Grat showed more curiosity in the wisdom of the gods. He was thin and small and didn''t receive much respect. But with his sharper mind he was able to inform a lot of the tribe''s decisions as Kubar''s adviser. "Do they know of our mission?"


    The mystic ignored him. "The core is yet to be found. Seek out the fledgeling king and rob him of it."


    "Who''s to say- *smack* *smack* - that these spying humanoids aren''t the ones with the core?" Kubar mentioned.


    Grat clenched his hand in frustration. "You-... wise king... please allow me to remind you that Ragar''s prey were humans and the guardians of the prophecy were goblins."


    "So?" Getting defensive Kubar put his cow leg down and righted himself up to show his intimidating size. "What''s the difference? They''re all humanoids."


    "O-ofcourse they are. Nary a difference. But the distinction can be made. You see, the human species, they''re not capable of speech, while the goblins are, just a few words, but are a lot smaller. My lord."


    The shown deference was enough to calm Kubar down. "Then we''ll hunt down those humans! Who''s with me?"


    A great clamoring from his subjects erupted. Fifty frothing pig heads, each of them a warrior to some capacity, cheering loudly over a declaration of war.


    "Ku- my king. Please let me..." Grat tried to talk to his master over the sound of chanting orcs. "once we''ve found the core, we longer need... if only we would search in the place I had first pointed out, we would... sir. Sir!"


    It was no use. They had gone too long without pillaging and raping. What the orcs needed now was a war before they could continue their search.


    -


    "An enemy approaches." The mystic suddenly proclaimed, ignorant about his surroundings.


    "What? An enemy?" Grat tried to listen to him over the war chanting. The other orcs where too embroiled in their frenzy to listen.


    "Kubar shall be brought down by rose and nightshade." The soothsayer whispered.


    -


    "EVERYBODY QUIET!" Grat yelled. It went completely unheard.


    Then the mystic woke up, disconnected from the voice of their god and with no memory of it as before. "What did I miss?"


    "Oh, nothing much. Just the fated end of our tribe." Grat sighed, resting his snout in his hands.


    But the soothsayer had already stood up and joined the eager shouting.


    <hr>


    "I think we''ve figured it out like this." Scratch proclaimed "It needs the fletching to keep a straight path."


    They had made countless prototypes for the crossbow bolts, but now they were consistently firing off proper projectile.


    Their practice target looked like a pincushion.


    "I think a metal tip would stop them from getting ruined." Teeth remarked.


    "We''re not likely to get them back after shooting into live targets. It''s fine like this. Let''s make 20 and keep them in a dry place."


    "I''d say keep them in the tower." Dumb said, he had been standing to the side. "That''s where you''re going to shoot them from."


    -


    For an elevated position they had build a structure to aim from. Scratch had called it a tower before construction, so that was what everybody keeped referring to it as, but it ended up looking more like a platform or podium.


    It was a wooden floor, much broader than it was high, with no roof or walls.


    -


    "While you''re up there, keep them in a box or crate. We have some planks left to make a protective casing with."


    "I... missed some of those words."


    With regular conversation the goblins had developed near perfect speech, but the gaps in their vocabulary would show at unexpected places. Scratch had never said ''crate'' near any of them, never mind in such a way that the meaning could be derived from context.


    "I''ll demonstrate, put you on the right path. Let''s just look at how the perimeter is going."


    -


    Dumb and Scratch took a stroll past the perimeter. Right now it was a line in the ground, but eventually it had to become an impenetrable defense.


    The line took them right past the treeline, the cave on their right and the forest on their left the entire time.


    "We''re making good progress. I think we''ll live." Scratch remarked, in a positive mood.


    "No." Dumb said.


    "No? What no? Don''t no me."


    "Scream said goblins hide when humans come. The better you try to defend yourself, the more of a target you become. Even Horns knew that."


    "Now listen here." Scratch stopped him. "Horns'' group sniffed us out looking for humans, they were starting trouble by themselves. So don''t give me that. Don''t go believing some prisoner over your own brother."


    Dumb pulled away from him. "The spring is different. That''s all I know, that in the spring it''s different."


    They arrived at the center of productivity, Fat was guiding Kicker and Biter into cutting down the first tree of many.


    "So it''s not going to be anything like the wall thing?" Dumb asked.


    "No." Said Biter, he and Kicker immediately took the opportunity to take a break from work. "We''re just going to lay the trees over the line.


    "To slow them down." Kicker added. "Then, with less trees to obstruct vision Teeth can shoot them down from the tower..." He looked at Scratch. "... if he has ammunition."


    Scratch nodded. "He does."


    Fat plopped down on the forest floor between them and started rolling around. "It''s going so sloooow. We''re still on the first treeeee."


    Dumb gently kicked his head. "Do it faster then."


    "No." Scratch said resolutely. "Trees are heavy, the equipment is sharp, I don''t want to see you cut any corners. If it helps, try thinking only about completing the tree you''re currently at, not the entire perimeter."


    "But what if we don''t finish in time?" Kicker asked.


    "We have time." Scratch said. "But you''re not going at it alone. A lot of labour is freeing up and we can all tackle this together. If it gets too bad I can get the bad teeth trio to drop the digging and join the woodcutting."


    Fat let out a slow, reluctant sigh. Then he suddenly jumped to his feet. "Let''s keep the momentum going then. I don''t want any more breaks to discourage me."


    <hr>


    "I keep thinking about that goblin." Dee said.


    "Don''t... talk about goblins in here please." Beth moaned.


    It was rare for bandits to have access to luxuries. They had been given the rare opportunity to bathe away from the men. When procession had come across a naturally occurring hot spring, Harkness had immediately declared it exclusive to female members, to great protestations from many men. After an intense battle, the loss of many of their friends, and the sudden relocation, they felt they more than deserved an opportunity to relax and feel clean again.


    But now Dee was ruining the mood by talking about such a repulsive creature. It made Beth feel dirty in the water.


    "Do you think it knew it was going to die?" She continued, unperturbed.


    "It''s obvious to us that goblins get wacked eventually, they''re a low level monster. I''m sure they see it differently."


    Suddenly a head popped up from below the water surface.


    "Goblins aren''t as stupid as people think."


    Dee reflexively splash water at it in a panic. It was Harkness.


    "Oh boss. Sorry. Ye scared me."


    Beth chuckled. "You do have a habit of appearing out of nowhere."


    -


    Dee and Harkness ended up talking about goblins with each other, which was Beth''s cue to leave and talk to some non-warrior women, who didn''t concern themselves with monsters in the bath.


    "What we had with us was actually a newborn goblin." Harkness said. "You can see their age because their teeth start to rot and their skin begins to mold and peel really quickly."


    "So the little guy never had the chance to learn how dangerous living here is, did he?" Dee leaned back to let her hair soak in the water. "Kinda makes me feel bad. I hope he at least takes one of them with him."


    "For him to kill an adventurer?" Harkness pondered the scenario. "Perhaps... if he gets lucky with a weapon against a rookie. But more to the point. I believe our friend First was under the command of an intelligent creature."


    "Huh? What makes yah say that?"


    "His manner of speaking. Goblins often learn a few words from their captured mothers, but they stay primitive. Only in cases of goblins growing up in captivity do you see such proper grammar. Not only that, but his clothes were, if anything, too primitive for him to be completely feral."


    "Haha..." Dee laughed flippantly while staring at the stars. "You''ll have to explain that one to me-" She caught herself. "-uh, please. Boss."


    Harkness didn''t seem to care about her tone. "The clothes were made in the forest, not stolen from humans. Either he made it himself, or it was made for him."


    "Say... boss... how come you know so much about goblins?"


    Harkness smiled. "Well... I have been a bandit for some time now. You start to learn about the creatures around you."


    "Uh, sure." Dee had been a bandit for over a decade and had never bothered to learn anything.


    "Beside that, I used to work alongside a knight that was extremely dedicated to slaying goblins. He would discuss them and the optimal methods for clearing their nests without end. He couldn''t properly serve his lord because he was so pre-occupied with goblin nests, to the exclusion of everything else."


    "Really? That''s crazy! What happened to him?"


    "He quit and became an adventurer. He''s still around, only takes goblin quests."


    Both women started laughing at the story. Not because it had been particularly funny, but just because it felt good to laugh and they couldn''t stop themselves.


    -


    "It''s nice to know you at moments like this too." Dee said a few minutes later, while she was combing her boss'' hair.


    "How so?"


    "Just.. You know, that you''re human like the rest of us."


    "I''m human 24 hours a day, Dee."


    "Oh, don''t take it the wrong way. I''m just glad to see you show the fun parts of you sometimes."


    Harkness'' ear twitched. "I better not show too much of myself. We have company."


    -


    "Ugh. I can''t believe this." Dee grabbed the comb like a weapon and stepped out of the bath. "Huckabee, that better not be you. I swear you''re not funny or interesting, you''re just a-"


    She hopped over the rocks to come eye to eye with a drooling orc.


    <hr>


    "Gahahaha" Kubar was happily chopping up humans. Just a single swing from his enormous battle-axe could cleave through multiple of the fleeing creatures. "They''re so weak! How could Ragar and the others fail to bring down these pathetic worms?"


    "These aren''t the warriors." Grat sighed. "We''re baiting out the defenders by attacking the defenseless, remember? Your plan?"


    "Uh-huh." Kubar responded absentmindedly as he grabbed a woman by the upper arm and pulled her towards him."


    "That means we don''t have time for breeding!" He layed his hand on his boss'' to get him to stop.


    Kubar threw down the prey in a frustrated manner. "These warrior humans better show up fast."


    -


    They looked over the chaos around them, it seemed that in their bloodlust most orcs had forgotten about the plan and where simply rampaging.


    "the rose and nightshade..." Grat whispered to himself, what did it mean? Poison?


    "What''s that?" Kubar asked him.


    "I don''t like seeing our people acting like animals. This base gratification, it goes against our better wisdom. What about the dungeon core?"


    Kubar playfully punched his smaller adviser against the side of the head, almost knocking him down. "It''s good to indulge once in a while, Grat, it keeps the blood pumping. A responsible king knows when to let his people indulge. Besides..."


    He stepped on the neck of the woman that was crawling away.


    "We have enough time to find the core. If the humanoids tell the fairies about it we lose our advantage. So extermination is our first priority."


    "Heh." Grat smiled.


    "What?"


    "Oh, nothing. I''m just glad to see this side of from from time to time. The serious side."


    "Heh, maybe." Kubar brought down his battle-axe and chopped the victim in two.


    <hr>


    "What is happening?" Harkness and Dee were meeting Huckabee halfway when he had come to get them.


    "I- ah- sorry- I-" He was completely flustered, Dee had managed to tie a towel around her waist before leaving the spring, but Harkness was completely naked.


    "Pull yourself together man!" She slapped him in the face. "There are more important matters to discuss."


    "Sorry. The orc tribe. They''ve overrun the place. Everybody is getting slaughtered."


    "Argh!" Dee pulled at her hair. "How did they find us? We should have stayed at the previous camp and just prepared for them."


    "No." Harkness said definitively. "We have no hope of fighting off their entire tribe. Dee, you go back to collect the other bath-goers, take them to the warped tree. Huckabee, take me back with you, we''re going to save who and what we can."


    "Against the orcs?" Huckabee''s voice trembled.


    "Behind the orcs'' backs."


    "And then? How can we survive without tents and food?"


    Harkness and Dee gave each other a knowing look. "These forests aren''t as uninhabited as were lead to believe.


    There is at least one faction we can attempt to ally with. But we''ll discuss this later, now go!"


    <hr>


    Fairy


    Fairies are a race of demi-humans with high magical power. Most of them are small, about the size of a thumb. But their queens are human sized.


    Fairies can be found all over the overworld and belong to no specific faction. They tend to be pacifists, abhorring war between non-evil beings. The different fairy queens bear no ill will against each other, although they only very rarely interact.


    Fairies prefer forested areas over other kinds of environment and will create enchanted forests where special herbs can bloom.


    Cases of fairies becoming adventurers are extremely rare, at the time of writing no fairy adventurer has appeared in decades. Although fairies helping out adventurers for extended periods of time does occur.

 First Impressions

    "Aaand, hup!"


    Scratch was trying to encourage his brothers by making strange exercise noises.


    After a day of hard work clearing the perimeter he was making them run around the tower with him.


    "Why?" Dumb whined. "Whyyyyy." He was slouched and dragging his feet in exhaustion.


    "Keep the pace up." Scratch was now running backwards to address the goblins while jogging. "The first step towards proper self defense is a fit body and plenty of stamina. 3 more rounds."


    -


    "Scream told him that if he gets strong enough he will evolve, so now we''re doing training to get stronger." Second explained to Dumb when they were finally allowed to rest and catch their breath.


    "So he wants to grow a horn, does he?" Dumb commented in a deadpan manner.


    "I think he had something like the orange boys we fought in mind."


    Scratch approached them. "Everything you do should serve at least two goals. Yes, evolution is a long-term goal, but for now getting this group ready against invaders is important too. Dumb, come with me."


    -


    He took his younger brother to a grassy patch a few steps away from the group.


    "I''m going to demonstrate something. Stand right there. Okay. Try to punch me."


    Dumb hesitated.


    "Don''t worry about me, just try to strike me."


    "I wasn''t worrying about you."


    "Okay, bring it on."


    Dumb ran towards him with his arm lifted. Scratch stepped aside, letting his fist graze his cheek but firmly grasping his arm by the wrist and elbow and twisting it to force him against the ground.


    He kept Dumb against the ground with is knee while talking. "I''ll do it again in slow motion, then I want you to try it on each other. You''re not supposed to let him hit you, but with one eye I''m not as good at judging distance.... Right!


    We''re going to be practicing a number of ways to deal with an opponent that''s stronger and heavier than you are, up you go." With those last words he let go of Dumb and helped him up. "Let''s do that again, attack me."


    "You want me to attack you?"


    "Yeah yeah. We don''t have time for this, just attack me."


    Unexpectedly and with sudden explosive movement Dumb kicked him in the crotch. The others roared as Scratch fell to the ground.


    <hr>


    Eventually they did follow his orders and spend the rest of the evening practicing martial arts, until it was time for dinner.


    Normally Quiet took on the task of cooking dinner, but with him being made to train with the rest of them that responsibility fell to the prisoners, on top of their regular mining activity.


    What they ended up eating was a hashee of under- and overcooked meat with bread.


    Reminds you of how much progress Quiet has made over the past month or so, seeing someone of their skill try their hands at it. Scratch thought to himself.


    He looked over to Digger trying to defend his handiwork from Teeth''s scrutiny. The prisoners looked a lot better than when they found them. Goblins in other parts of the forest had a malnourished, mangy appearance, with various crusts and discolorations all over them and painful looking eyes and teeth.


    They looked like monsters. But with a healthy diet and cleaning practices they had become more healthy and easier on the eyes, they had regained the appearance of human children, just with a different colour.


    -


    He brought his spoon to his mouth. After a day of hard work chopping trees and teaching self-defense he was hungry enough to eat anything.


    "It''s not as good." Scream said. He was standing behind him.


    Scratch had his mouth full so he didn''t answer.


    "We''re not as good as Quiet at making." Scream sighed, sitting down at the table. "I try to learn, but I''m never as good."


    Finally Scratch swallowed. "Are you fishing for compliments?"


    Scream looked at him in confusion.


    "Trying to get me to tell you it is good? Because it isn''t."


    "AH! No! I..." He quickly shut up and stared in front of him.


    "Rather, give me a status report on the mining."


    Again Scream''s eyes dashed side to side trying to make sense of the phrase.


    "Tell me how the mining is going. Can you deal with the sand?"


    "Yes! We''ve made lots and lots of scaffolding, with it we can tunnel through the sand."


    "Is the weight distributed properly?"


    "We made them arched like you asked."


    "Good.. good..." Scratch resumed eating.


    Nervously Scream tried to address something else."Uuuuh... Scratch?"


    "What?"


    "There was something in the sand."


    "What? Like a creature?"


    "No. This."


    What he showed him was a rectangular flat object, with dimensions comparable to a playing card. The back was stark white, the front showed a lifelike image with text overhead.


    The image was disturbing. It seemed like a secretively taken picture of Scratch, walking through the tunnel, his eye still infected and dirty, in a feverish trance.


    When was this taken? Where? Why? And by whom? Questions buzzed through Scratch''s head. But the text was if anything more disturbing.


    ''Guidance from an Evil God.''


    "Scream..." Scratch spoke slowly and softly. He was dizzy, having trouble staying right up. "We''re going to stop mining the tunnel."


    Scream was a bit taken aback. "Why? We work-"


    "In fact." Scratch interrupted him. "I''m going to ask you to seal off what you have dug now."


    "Now?"


    "Yes. Now."


    Scream stood up from his chair to do Scratch''s bidding.


    Scratch walked to the outside, the card still clutched in his hand. He muttered to the others, barely audible. "I''ll be sleeping outside. See you tomorrow."


    <hr>


    It dawned on First that he should have taken a weapon from the humans with him. The best weapon his brothers had was still Drool''s rusty old knife, human equipment was far superior and they had so much of it that they''d hardly notice if one went missing.


    Additionally, hiking through this big scary wood on his own was probably more dangerous than he had anticipated.


    The bandits had fled away from the cave, so it was a walk of almost two days now.


    Why had he ran out of the camp so hastily?


    Oh, right. The breeding.


    -


    He didn''t quite understand how he felt about women.


    When he had been a newborn he had tried feeling sexual desire towards his mother in imitation of his father, Drool. But he had quickly been distracted by more political matters.


    It was strange how goblins had to force human women to breed with them, when humans were so much more powerful than them. He rubbed the spot on his head their leader had ricocheted her knives off. With creatures like humans around, what right did goblins have to exist?


    -


    The path was becoming more familiar, the snow was gone now but he recognized the forest they used to hunt and play in. This was the way they''d taken with the guests towards the camp.


    As far as he knew neither Teeth nor Yeller had been captured. They had to have returned and told the others the truth about the goblins they had saved.


    Would Scratch spare them?


    First shook his head at his own suggestion. Scratch may have opposed infighting for who got to be the leader, but even he wouldn''t spare traitors like that.


    I better reach them quickly, to show them that I''m still alive.


    As he increased his pace at the thought of being close he came across a brown object to the side of the path.


    -


    Yeller had been decomposing for the past week. But he was still recognizable.


    "No!" First perched next to him and tried to cradle the crumbling corpse in his arms like it was still his brother.


    From behind he heard the sound of hooves.


    <hr>


    "Mommy? What is going on?"


    "Be still, Cobaline. Be quiet for mommy, alright?" Denise stroked her young daughter''s hair to calm her down.


    They were huddled behind the dove cote. Normally the birds would make plenty of noise, cooing in their cage, but now they were cowed into silence. All animals were cowering before the enormous being stalking the premises. It was an orc in full metal chain mail, the blood on its mace still fresh. It was making pig noises and sniffing between the animals for human scent.


    Denise closed her eyes as the creature sauntered closer to them, until its shadow covered them both. She tucked in little Cobaline as closely as possible.


    -


    There was a faint *swish* noise.


    Denise dared to look up. Out of nowhere the bandit leader, Lydia Harkness had appeared. She sat perched on the beast''s shoulders and had punctured his throat with two sharp objects, a killing blow that prevented it from crying out. Strikingly, she was completely naked.


    "Lydia!" Denise cried out in relief.


    "Hush!" Lydia whispered bringing her finger to her lips as the orc''s form slumped over and she landed on the ground soundlessly. "How many are there?"


    "I don''t know." Denise stood up, Cobaline still tightly held to her chest. "At least forty. What can we still do?"


    "Not much. One of the guards and I are preparing a distraction, we''re evacuating as many of our people as possible. Please stay here for now, until the coast is clear." With those words she turned around to jump away once more.


    "Wait." Denise tried to yell while whispering and managed a bit of an insistent hiss.


    "What is it."


    "You were at the springs, weren''t you? Take this, even if it''s just for modesty." She pulled a warming blanket from a horse and threw it towards her leader.


    Lydia wrapped it around herself like a sari and tested her movement in it.


    "You look great." Denise said.


    Cobaline was just staring at her. "You''re a horse lady."


    "Cobaline!" Denise said out loud despite herself.


    "It''s quite alright." Lydia said. "You''ll know when it''s time to run. We''ll give a signal."


    <hr>


    "That''s all of them, isn''t it?" Grat panted, after his victim had finally stopped moving.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Kubar gave a deep dissatisfied growl. "They''re not here yet. The warriors."


    "Maybe they fled?" Grat suggested. "By the smell of it, Garak managed to kill quite a few of them."


    "If they''re fleeing..." Kubar spat in frustration "...go FIND them! ALL OF YOU!" He was yelling at the various orcs that were lazing about in the vicinity, gorging themselves on human food. "KILL THE LAST OF THE HUMANOIDS!"


    The warriors sprung to their feet and scurried in all different directions, trying to look busy.


    -


    "Look at these things." Kubar said disapprovingly, as he kicked at a wandering goose.


    "These humans of yours enslave such worthless and weak animals."


    "They sure do have a lot of them." Garak sighed. "This whole place smells like horse."


    Kubar laughed. "They sit on horses. They put them in front of carts. They sure like the things. If you ask me, the only thing a horse is good for is eating!"


    As he said that the shrieking noise of a humanoid could be heard over the footsteps of orcs.


    "It came from where the horses are!" Yelled Grat.


    "That was the sound of a warrior." Kubar smiled. "Finally we can end this."


    -


    But when they were rushing to the grazing patch the horses had been left they found the animals had been cut loose and were rushing towards them in the opposite direction.


    As they moved through the encampment they attracted the attention of various hidden humans, who came out of their hiding places to mount the creatures, escorted and lifted up by a handful of human warriors.


    "That''s them!" Kubar growled. "That''s their warrior caste!" He hacked at the unmounted horses rushing around him and obscuring his vision. "Go get them! Where is everybody?"


    "Everybody is spread out trying to find them." Grat groaned, having already given up.


    Before they knew it all the horses had rushed past them, taking the last of the humans with them.


    <hr>


    "Is everybody here?" Dee did a headcount.


    A significant portion of their troupe''s women had been at the hot spring at the time of the attack, along with two small boys that were with their mother. That made eight people, including Dee and Beth, the warriors. They had all been able to retrieve their clothing before setting out.


    "Why are we here?" Beth asked.


    "This is where we agreed to meet the boss. Once she''s here, she''ll know what to do."


    "Like hell she will." Someone in the back shouted. "How did the orcs find us?"


    "Who said that? Come one, who said that?" Dee responded angrily at the dissenting voice. But whoever it was, she kept quiet now.


    "Dee." Beth asked seriously. "What if the others have been captured?"


    "No way." Dee said resolutely. "Not Harkness, that would be impossible."


    A response came from the back again. "Bullshit! We''re just waiting here for the orcs to find us!"


    "Okay, Emma, I can see you Emma! You''re not helping anybody Emma!" Dee called her out.


    Emma grimaced at being confronted like that. "Am I wrong? What orcs want is women. The first thing we''ll hear coming from that direction." She pointed towards the encampment. "Is the sound of a trampling orc horde."


    "No we won''t, Emma, you absolute-"


    They then became aware of the sound of countless trampling hooves.


    -


    Dee had her sword drawn. But it turned out the be Huckabee on horseback, followed by a herd of the things.


    "Everybody hop on!" He said. "Right now we''ve got one for everybody, unfortunately."


    "How many people did you get out?" Dee asked, repeatedly trying to mount a horse.


    "Twelve of our people, and Patrick is here too."


    "Hiya." Patrick waved his hand.


    Beth was the only one that waved back.


    Dee stopped trying to mount. "So only one-third survived."


    "For now." Patrick looked over his shoulder nervously.


    "For now... that''s right." Dee moved her arms about wildly. "We need to leave, where''s the boss?"


    Huckabee pointed upwards. "She''s covering our escape from the treetops."


    Beth interjected. "Is she still..."


    "Last I saw she had some blanket wrapped around her."


    "Good. Good... We have her outfit here. For whenever she feels like joining us. Dee?"


    "Huh?" Dee still wasn''t succeeding at heisting herself on the horse.


    Beth helped her up. "You knew the plan, right?"


    "Yes, that''s right." She turned her horse so she could address everybody. "Everybody! Today is tragic. But we must put off mourning until we have some distance between us and the orcs. Everybody get up as quickly as possible, we''re going to keep riding through the night,"


    <hr>


    Gubok crawled over the beaten dirt floor.


    He had survived the aftermath of the attack by playing dead. The tendons on his legs had been cut, but the bleeding hadn''t been too severe. With an angry grunt he closed his fat palms around th branched of a conifer and pulled himself up. Today, he had lost everything.


    He could no longer return to the rest of the tribe, Kubar, their chief, would have him bled to please the evil god


    Manshuu, and eat him afterwards. The only just reward for failure.


    What would become of him after this? What good is an orc without a tribe? In the wildlands, where they usually roamed, orcs that were banished from the tribe would be quickly devoured by predators or other orcs. Without even the use of his legs, he was marked for death.


    Gubok let out a long nasal whine. Was there any creature in the world more pitiable than him? His only consolation was that the humanoids wouldn''t escape justice. It was natural for a godless feral species such as them to think they could stay ahead of the orc tribe by moving away, but by now Kubar would have knowledge of their position already, before they knew he even had knowledge the extermination had failed. Through the oracles, Manshuu could relay the outcome of any bloody battle.


    And bloody it had been. Gubok looked with empty eyes over the red mass of bodies and blood-stained earth as he tried to steady himself on his damaged hooves. He had to grab a hold of a higher conifer branch, resting his full weight on them was just too painful.


    He sighed and rested for a while. He couldn''t stay around for Kubar to come find him. He was terrified of what his sentence would be. Looking around, his beady eyes fell on Ragar''s large black metal shield. Hanging with one hand from the branch, he leaned down to grab it.


    -


    Holding the shield by the top and pushing the bottom into the dirt, he could support a part of his weight, and lessen the burden on his damaged ankles. Carefully, pushing the object into the ground in front of him and dragging himself to the front, he was able to walk a few steps.


    He painfully crouched down to retrieve Ragar''s warhammer. It was one of the finer pieces of weaponry, his lips curled up thinking about how incensed Ragar''s spirit had to be seeing him take his equipment for such an ignoble purpose. Using the shield he crutched away. Where will I go? What will I eat? He wanted to whine in self pity again, but he didn''t, admitting weakness attracted predators.


    <hr>


    "Is that a goblin?" Huckabee squinted his eyes in the dark.


    "I can cut it down." Said Patrick.


    The two of them were ahead of the pack to inspect the way.


    "Even if it was," Huckabee responded, tired of his colleague. "We''re looking for someone that tames goblins. We wouldn''t want to kill their servant."


    When they had gotten closer Huckabee recognized First, crouching by the side of the road.


    "First! Buddy!"


    First''s head turned around, his eyes were two glowing lights in the darkness. They looked empty somehow, without spirit.


    Huckabee wanted to dismount, but Patrick stopped him.


    Huckabee looked from the goblin to his friend and back, sensing an ominous atmosphere.


    -


    "Hey there little guy." He tried. "Remember me?"


    "We saw each other yesterday." First was no longer looking at them and the two little lights were not visible.


    "That''s right... we did. What are you holding there, buddy?"


    "This is my brother... You hadn''t told me... your people killed him."


    -


    What First was cradling was the rotting corpse of a one-armed goblin.


    "Oh no. Oh, no." Huckabee dismounted, Patrick tried to stop him again but he swatted away his arm.


    He approached First slowly. His weapon was sheathed and his palms were open.


    "First. I didn''t know you, or your brother. I only knew that someone was attacking our camp and I had to fight them."


    First didn''t react to his words. "Yeller... He never wanted to us to fight. But we always did end up fighting."


    Huckabee put a hand on his shoulder and looked at the remains of the goblin called Yeller. That he had cut down this child in cold blood...


    Suddenly First spun around and pulled Huckabee''s sword out of the sheath. "And you killed him!"


    Huckabee grabbed the goblin and pulled him in close, where he didn''t have the freedom of movement to swing the sword.


    "Why you vile-!" Patrick immediately unsheathed his own weapon.


    "Patrick. Stay back." Huckabee ordered, hugging First tightly. "First. I''m sorry. I''m sorry your brother is dead. I''m sorry I killed him. I''m sorry we kept you in a cage. I now understand... you don''t deserve that."


    First buried his face in Huckabee''s chest. "It''s my faaauuulllt!


    "No... no..."


    "It''s my fault. I wanted to fight. I wanted to be a warrior. Because of me Yeller is dead!"


    Huckabee didn''t know what else to say, so he just started stroking the back of the boy''s head.


    <hr>


    "Why are you here?" Second climbed up the what they were still calling the tower, it wasn''t a big task, the structure was barely above chest height.


    On top were Teeth and Scratch, the latter lying on his back and staring at the sky, the former holding his crossbow and looking out over the half-completed perimeter.


    "Teeth is always here because he''s traumatized and paranoid. I''m here because I don''t want to be inside right now." Scratch responded.


    Teeth didn''t answer but he did greet Second with a little nod.


    "Can you both come inside? There''s nothing there and there''s nothing here. You''re making the others nervous."


    Neither answered him.


    "Teeth. You say something." Second demanded. "You don''t think anybody is coming do you?"


    "If they do... I want to be prepared." Teeth said, clutching the weapon more tightly.


    "Well, who? What goblin tribe are you so afraid of?"


    "Not goblins..."


    Scratch addressed him. "Teeth, put down the crossbow. If the humans were chasing us we''d be dead by now."


    Teeth was reluctant to do as ordered.


    "Teeth!"


    Teeth groaned and put the thing against the box for bolts, next to his iron sword, then sat down on the box himself. He let out a long and tortured sigh.


    Second sat down too.


    "You guys haven''t been alive for that long." Scratch said after a while. "Do you spend a lot of time looking at the stars?"


    Second followed the line of his gaze towards the sky. "Stars..."


    "Yeah, you know? The little points of light."


    "Not really."


    "I used to." Said Teeth. "All the time. Befor-"


    "I wonder if there''s any constellations." Scratch interrupted him. "If any of them are close together you can think of them as forming an image. Do you guys see any?"


    "I don''t know what you mean." Second admitted.


    "Just... try to connect the dots. Look there, those are like a straight line, they''re like a crossbow bolt."


    "I... no I don''t see any constellations."


    "Pity."


    -


    They were distracted by the sound of horse hooves, when they looked over they saw the figure of a human very obviously and transparently trying to hide between the cut trees around the perimeter.


    "I can''t believe this." Scratch groaned. "This is only going to strengthen Teeth''s delusions."


    "Has he seen us?" Second whispered.


    "Humans can''t see in the dark." Teeth hissed while getting up to grab his weapon and ammunition.


    "Well then." Scratch snatched the crossbow bolt out of his hand to have a sharp object in his own hand. "Let''s go have a closer look."


    <hr>


    After following the direction First had been walking in the bandit scouts arrived at some sort of logging site.


    "This is definitely the work of humans." Huckabee said out loud.


    "Or orcs." Patrick said bitterly.


    First had been allowed to sit on the horse in front of Huckabee, the horse was big and scary and he was still shaken from the ride. He had recognized the path until then, but the sight of the destroyed trees confused him. None of his brothers had the claws to do something like that. They had used the axe to retrieve wood from the forest somewhere, but to radically change the environment like that... Surely no goblin made tool could achieve that.


    "Goblin boy, are these your people?" Patrick asked.


    First shook his head unsurely.


    "Maybe this is the village of the hidden people?"


    "Elves?"


    "Could be."


    "Let''s take a look."


    With those words Patrick dismounted and sneaked out into the darkness. Leaving his two partners behind.


    -


    Despite the starlight the surroundings were pitch black. Some distance away light was emanating from between cracks in a wall and it faintly illuminated the outlines of huts, but he couldn''t make out much detail.


    Luckily the darkness also served as a cover to move around stealthily. He didn''t see any people yet, but when he did, hopefully it''d be before they saw him. Before he could make his presence known he had to know the inhabitants weren''t monsters.


    As he slowly sneaked towards the light he suddenly heard a young boy''s voice.


    "Out for a late-night stroll?"


    He silently and imperceptibly slid out a dagger from the side of his leg.


    "Ho, there. Calm down hotshot. We''ve got you surrounded you know."


    He dropped the knife and put his arms up. "I come in peace."


    "In peace, huh? Anybody with you?"


    "...no."


    "Throw the sword on the ground too."


    He did as he was ordered. "Show yourself!"


    "You''re not in any position to make demands. Three steps back."


    As he stepped back the outline of a goblin became visible, hobbling forward to retrieve the surrendered arms.


    Tamed goblins. Dee was right, this guy is a monster tamer.


    "Where are you?" He proclaimed.


    "Wow. You really are blind." The goblin turned its gaze towards him, only a single eye glowing white in the darkness. It was the same voice as before.


    <hr>


    With the human disarmed and after seeing him admit to having no backup Teeth squeezed the trigger of his crossbow weapon. The bolt was about to fly loose and kill the enemy when Second stopped him.


    "Stop. Let go of me." Teeth whispered at Second pushing down his heavy weapon.


    "You could hit Scratch." Second hissed back.


    -


    "I''m going to repeat to my brothers what I said before." Scratch said out loud while still looking the intruder directly into the eye. "Not to shoot their crossbows. However, some of them seem to have really twitchy fingers, so I''m going to ask you not to make any sudden movements.


    "Who''s your master?" The human insisted, taking a step forward.


    "Will you check yourself? My god, and here I thought goblins had no self-preservation instinct. Second! Go get us some rope, and get Kicker and Biter out here too."


    -


    The two goblins and the human waited patiently on their spot until the promised rope arrived.


    "What are you going to do with me?" The human asked.


    "If you spoke the truth you have nothing to worry about." Scratch proclaimed.


    Eventually some rope did arrive and the three warriors held the human down while Scratch tied him up.


    "You''re coming with us. We''re going to walk slowly, okay? Don''t try anything."


    Teeth pulled his brother aside. "Why are we keeping him alive."


    "First of all, because we can. Second of all, I don''t believe a word he''s saying."


    "So..."


    "So he''s worth more to us alive then dead. We can trade him. It''s called having a hostage."


    "And you think there''s more out there."


    "I do, so I''m stationing the three of you outside for the rest of the night. Everybody has their weapons?"


    Kicker and Biter showed theirs. "Yep." "Yes, here."


    "Rely on your sword, Teeth, you can''t keep reloading the crossbow fast enough, drop it if you have to. Also, don''t forget what I taught you." He mimed the movements. "Don''t clash with your opponent, use their own weight against them."


    Teeth nodded with a serious look on his face. He had no doubt that he would be thrown into a life or death situation before the night was over.


    Scratch looked over his shoulder at Second stringing along the human. "I don''t want to leave Second alone with the hostage, better catch up to him." As he started running he called back. "Raise alarm before you start fighting, don''t be a hero, call for help!"


    <hr>


    Patrick''s horse was getting restless.


    "What''s taking him so long." Huckabee shifted in his saddle, he was talking half to First, half to himself.


    Suddenly there was the rustle of leaves and his leader dropped from the treetops. She perched perfectly on Patrick''s horse''s saddle, without the animal noticing. She was wearing her usual light armor again.


    "Boss!"


    "Huckabee, what have you found?" She looked over from his subordinate to the goblin, whose facial expression hardened and quickly looked away.


    "First led us here. But he doesn''t recognize it. Patrick went ahead to scout the area."


    The boss put her hand over her face. "To scout? What were you thinking? Goblins can see in the dark, he''s at a massive disadvantage trying to sneak around."


    "W-what? They can?" Huckabee was stumped. Goblins were fodder in the forest, you usually wouldn''t keep track of their strengths and weaknesses much as you could simply cut them down regardless. However, in this highly uncommon situation knowledge of goblins was suddenly paramount.


    "Let''s get going." Harkness let herself fall into the saddles seat, startling the horse. "We want to make nice with the tamer, so we better show an open hand." With that she spurred the horse and had it jump over the fallen trunks and tree stumps.


    -


    Just when they entered a flat area, clearly built upon by some people they heard a long and clear goblin call. It didn''t contain any words, but its purpose was clear. The rest of the group was being warned of their presence.


    Over the top of his mount''s head Huckabee could see the outline of two goblins, one of them clearly holding a large mechanical implement.


    "Hold your fire." The boss said, immediately dismounting "We come peacefully, with a request for your master. Please take us to him."


    "Teeth!" First cried.


    The goblin seemed to lower his weapon, but when his reflective eyes looked at Huckabee it immediately went up again and a bolt came flying right at him.


    The horse staggered, throwing both seated off, and Huckabee tumbled to the ground.


    It had all happened too fast, he didn''t understand what was going on. When he tried to stand up to get his bearing he felt a wetness on his stomach. He was covered in blood. Quickly he felt around to find out where he was hurt, but found only the body of First, a crossbow bolt piercing the throat.


    <hr>


    Monster Taming


    Monster taming is a special skill only possessed by certain bloodlines. It involves the ability to form a special bond with pacified monsters that makes them follow the tamer''s orders. This skill must be developed and trained in order to gain the ability to tame stronger monsters. The monsters themselves must also be trained in order to understand orders better or complete more strenuous tasks. Additionally, when a monster tamer dies or the bond is otherwise broken the monsters will once again become feral. These drawbacks make it so that monster taming is rarely used outside of the adventuring profession.


    When monster tamers and their monsters increase in ability in close unison this can trigger a phenomenon known as ''tamer evolution'', where the monster is transformed into a more powerful or rarer type in its family. This is similar but distinct from the phenomenon we call ''dungeon evolution'', which is caused by an evil god to make a dungeon more dangerous. Naturally, tamer evolution is good and pure, while dungeon evolution is evil and corrupt.

 Negotiations

    "Hold your fire. We come peacefully, with a request for your master. Please take us to him."


    The words of the human were few and straight to the point. Teeth relaxed the grip on his weapon.


    She was the first woman he had seen in a long time and her figure stunned him. The curves of her body made the fabric of her clothing loose or stretched at various places, emphasizing her distinctly feminine form. The occasional elements of metal plating did little to conceal it.


    "Teeth!"


    His attention was drawn to his brother''s voice, who he saw in the grip of a known enemy. He had seen that face in his nightmares before. The round nose, the slightly slack jawed expression and the horrible hint of hair stubble all over his chin. He had personally seen this creature hack up his brother Yeller.


    He had practiced the crossbow until the movement was automatic, and it didn''t fail him now. He loosened the arrow towards the enemy.


    -


    Teeth immediately dropped the crossbow and fumbled to draw his sword weapon. Meanwhile, Biter, who was standing next to him, charged at the human that had fallen off the big hooved creature.


    He made a battle cry. "Raaah!"


    "No!" Teeth had enough clearness of mind to recognize rushing in as a bad maneuver.


    Kicker joining the battle cry drowned him out and the two younger warriors closed in on the human.


    Suddenly the other human landed between them, grabbing the spears right under the heads and twisting them so the two lost grip.


    "Stop. We are not your enemy."


    -


    Teeth was briefly stunned by the spectacle, but then gripped his weapon more firmly and rushed towards the rest.


    When the hooved creature calmed down and stepped aside he could clearly see the enemy cradling his brother.


    "First!" Teeth tried rushing closer but was immediately disarmed by the two stolen spears. "You killed him! You killed him too!" He yelled at the humans.


    The one holding his brother turned to look at him, his eyes were completely dead.


    <hr>


    "Are you lot still awake?" Scratch burst through the door opening while holding a human by the hair.


    "We are now." said Dumb.


    The truth was that nobody had gone to bed yet. Only Dumb and Fat were in the foyer area where the blankets were.


    Quiet was cleaning up the dining room and the prisoners were deep in the mines boarding up the sand tunnel.


    "We have another guest." He pulled the human with him, Second coming close behind.


    The human sat down, the ceiling was too low for him to stand straight up.


    When it stayed quiet Scratch became annoyed. "Come on! Introduce yourself." He complained.


    "What? Uh, my name is Patrick. I''m a bandit. Where''s your master?"


    "I''m here. My name is... well, call me Scratch. These are Dumb and Fat, you already met Second here. There''s someone named Quiet around here somewhere."


    Patrick stared at him.


    "These are goblin names." Scratch explained.


    "I want to speak with the one in charge here." Patrick insisted. "Who do you take orders from?"


    "Again with this! You know, I''ve got half a mind to-"


    Suddenly their bickering was interrupted by a high-pitched shriek from the goblins outside. They had to have spotted more intruders.


    Immediately following came various yelling among people.


    -


    "You lied to us, Patrick." Scratch tutted, not really surprised or betrayed.


    Then he turned to his brothers. "I''m going to check outside, can you keep an eye on this one?"


    "Won''t he get out of those ropes?" Dumb said.


    "Roll him into a blanket!" Fat responded.


    <hr>


    I''m slaying orcs with Margaret.


    Near one of the bigger hills in the region we found a camp of overturned carts and thatch housing. Orcs are simple creatures, so their homes aren''t very advanced. Then again, they''re probably not supposed to be used for very long before they move on. I guess you could say orcs are exactly as smart as they need to be.


    ¡¾Laurus! Laurus!¡¿ Margaret comes running.


    ¡¾Yes?¡¿


    ¡¾Oh! There you are. Have we gotten all the orcs?¡¿


    I think about it. ¡¾I think so, there wasn''t a lot of them though. Maybe they''re hiding?¡¿


    Margaret stares off into the distance. ¡¾Orcs are a militant race, they wouldn''t abandon their family like this. What I thinks is more likely, is that the majority are on a warpath, to raid a rival civilization.¡¿


    ¡¾Wow. Margaret, you sure know a lot about orcs.¡¿


    ¡¾Oh, yeah... haha. Just something I read once.¡¿


    Margaret is so cool. She''s a mature lady adventurer, a really reliable person!


    ¡¾Oh!" I say. "Does that mean they''re about to attack a settlement?¡¿


    ¡¾Hopefully there are other monsters nearby they''re attacking, or maybe bandits. But chances are they''re marching towards a farm, or even an elven village.¡¿Margaret muses, biting her thumb.


    ¡¾The hidden village is near he-¡¿I stop myself, I''m supposed to never let anyone know about their location.


    ¡¾Oh, Laurus. I''m so sorry. I almost made you tell me where it was!¡¿Margaret is really considerate of me.


    ¡¾Anyway,¡¿I change the subject, ¡¾we need to find the horde and stop it. Are the two of us enough to take on the horde?¡¿


    ¡¾Stopping a raid of this size would normally be a level C quest at the adventurers'' guild. We''re both rank C, and there''s two of us... But Laurus, how can we catch up to them? We can''t see the trail from above the trees and we''d never make it on foot!¡¿


    I throw my head back and start laughing.


    ¡¾Laurus? Why are you laughing? What''s wrong?¡¿


    I put my hand on her head. ¡¾Pegasi can''t only fly you know. They''re horses too, we can chase after them on horseback.¡¿


    ¡¾Ah.¡¿Margaret''s face becomes bright red from embarrassment.


    <hr>


    "Yup" Scratch stood over First''s body. "That''s a dead body."


    "We... didn''t mean to." The human man spoke in a quiet and demure tone. He didn''t seem particularly bright to him.


    Both humans had come into goblin town wearing protective clothing, just like Patrick. One of them was a woman, her presence slightly intoxicated Scratch''s natural instincts, but he kept his composure.


    "I understand completely." Scratch said. "You were aiming more for a trade, weren''t you?"


    "What?"


    "Well, I hope you''re not so blas¨¦ about the life of a hostage as my brother here, because we still have one of yours."


    The female sighed in resignation, he saw she was still holding the confiscated spears.


    "How about you return the weapons and we resolve all this peacefully?"


    "Fine." She said. "Have it your way." And she threw Kicker and Biter''s weapons on the ground. "Is that an orc weapon?" she asked, referring to the crossbow, Scratch didn''t answer the question but he did make note of it.


    -


    The two intruders were escorted into the middle of the square where the big fire pit was. Their horses staying behind, grazing in peace.


    "As a gesture of goodwill, let''s make some light." Scratch said.


    "And also because it''s really cold right now." Said Dumb, who had come outside as Kicker and Biter took over watching the hostage.


    Scratch elbowed him in the ribs.


    It took a few minutes, and a bunch of firewood that they had rather saved for later, but eventually a reasonable bonfire was created.


    It bathed the makeshift town in a flickering orange light, casting long shadows and generating a spooky atmosphere.


    "We can negotiate for the life of your friend." Scratch said, laying down on his side and chewing a grass helm. "But first we need to know your position and aim."


    "Yes!" The man said. "We-"


    The woman held up her hand, silencing him with a single gesture. "We''re refugees. We followed the ''first'' goblin to get an audience with his master."


    I see. Thought Scratch. So she is the leader.


    While he was overthinking that Dumb responded. "Well, there is no-Ouch! Why do you keep poking me?"


    Scratch side-eyed him furiously, while continuing to elbow him. "We can''t just give anybody an audience with the master. What are you fleeing from?"


    Dumb stayed silent, it looked like he was starting to understand the ruse.


    The two humans looked at each other hesitantly.


    "We... will be corroborating everything you say with your friend inside, naturally." Scratch said.


    "Orcs." The man sighed. "We seem to have attracted the attention of orcs. At first we thought they would only try to raid our camp, but they followed us. For some reason they''re bent on wiping us out."


    "We can only keep ahead of them on horseback." The woman added. "There''s roughly fifty of them. Their movements aren''t typical of orcs, they probably serve an evil god." She looked at her subordinate. "We did our best to obfuscate the trail, but we don''t think they''ll ever relent. So we need protection. We have a lot to offer in exchange. Not currently, but in our connection with Eston and the Thieves'' Guild. I''m sure your master would understand the significance of that."


    "Uh-huh. Sure." Scratch was shaken by the sudden mention of an evil god. He couldn''t concentrate on the situation at hand.


    He looked around at his brothers. Dumb was right next to him, frowning hard to try to follow the conversation. Second was pacing around agitatedly near the tower. Teeth was sitting some distance away, clutching his head in his hands.


    "I... uh...I" Scratch was trying to find his bearing.


    "How many of you are there?" Dumb said.


    "Twenty-three."


    Dumb looked at his fingers. It was a bigger number than he had ever had to deal with.


    -


    Quiet had come out of the home and whispered something in Scratch''s ear.


    "Ah." Scratch responded. "I understand you lot haven''t eaten since yesterday. We''ll get you three something, but we can''t feed twenty-three people I''m afraid."


    "Really? That is too kind of you." The woman said, then, turning to her subordinate. "We can report back to the main group tomorrow."


    Internally Scratch chastised himself for being overly happy to be of service to her. His entire body was screaming at him to mate with her, but that was out of the question.


    "Our master won''t be here tonight. So you can sleep near the fire. You won''t be coming inside. That''s were we keep the prisoner."


    "Naturally. My name is Lydia Harkness. I''m a bandit. This is my strongest warrior. Huckabee."


    "I''m your strongest?"


    "A pleasure to meet you Lydia. Huckabee. You can call me Scratch. Not everyone is here, but these are Quiet, Dumb,


    Teeth and, all the way over there, Second."


    After those words Scratch stood up to go inside.


    "We should guard the door." Said Dumb.


    Scratch stopped. "I suppose you''re right. You stay up during the first half of the night."


    Dumb groaned at having suggested it at all.


    "Don''t you have a regular schedule?" Lydia said, accepting a plate with bread and dried meat from Quiet. "For wildlife?"


    "N- Yeeeees" Scratch said. Is the lack of animals here an evil god thing?


    <hr>


    When Scratch came back inside Kicker and Biter were force-feeding Patrick, who looked like a long sausage as he was rolled up in several blankets.


    "We''re moving him to the lower levels." He said, clapping his hands to get their attention. "We don''t want a rescue mission taking away our only leverage."


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Hhhmpf!" Patrick tried to protest through a mouthful of dry bread.


    "Hup" "Hop" The two lifted him above their heads without protest and ran downwards through the tunnel with the


    sausage man above them.


    -


    "This is actually one of our most luxurious rooms." Scratch proclaimed, when Patrick felt himself being thrown on a soft cushy object.


    This part of the cave was completely black. He couldn''t see a thing. But the damp atmosphere was at least warmer than the freezing air outside.


    "You lot. Meet your fellow inmate."


    "Pfff" Patrick managed to spit out the last crumbs. He had only slightly complained about his hunger and the goblins had responded with a cruel ironic punishment of sorts. "Who else is here?" He demanded to know.


    "Well. Introduce yourselves." Sounded the goblin boss'' insistent voice.


    "I''m Scream."


    "I''m called Ki-Laugh."


    "Digger."


    "These ones have proven their trustworthiness." Scratch added, to the giggling of Kicker and Biter, the goblins that had been force-feeding him. "So they rank above you."


    "More goblins..." Patrick sighed. On one hand it was good that they hadn''t captured anyone else, on the other, this complicated his breakout.


    -


    There were some shuffling noises of goblins moving from place to place and Scratch sitting down somewhere to make himself comfortable.


    "We''re going to kill some time, you and I." Scratch''s voice said. "I want information from you."


    "Why should I tell you anything!?" Patrick wriggled in his restrained and looked around the pitch black room to find the source of the sound. "You''re not answering my questions either."


    "What I could do here is draw attention to the various sharp objects pointed directly at your eyes right now."


    Patrick froze. He heard the soft breathing of multiple grunts standing around him, no doubt holding weapons.


    "But I''m trying to make nice with you people." Scratch continued. "So instead, let''s play a game."


    "A game?"


    "A game. For every question you answer, I''ll answer a question. How''s that? Doesn''t that sound fair?"


    He wasn''t in the mood for a game at all, but right now co-operating with the monster was the best course of action he had.


    -


    "Fine. Who do you serve?"


    "I said for each question that you answer. So I go first."


    Patrick gnashed his teeth.


    "Tell me this. Why are you here?"


    "We''re- godsdammit-" he was getting increasingly claustrophobic in his tight blanket. "-we''re here to offer an alliance with the tamer. Get me out of this thing."


    "Okay, sure close enough. To answer your question, I serve a tamer named... Clyde, Clyde Beatty. Next one of mine, how many of you are there?"


    Patrick hesitated. "More than seventy." Which had been true only a few days ago.


    It''s better to overstate our power. He thought to himself. For intimidation.


    The room fell silent. "Patrick." Scratch tutted, like a disapproving parent. "You''re lying to me again."


    Patrick could feel the flat side of a knife stroking his cheek. "N-no."


    "Either you or your boss is. And I''m going for the one that doesn''t wait around to hear if I believe him."


    Did they really capture even Harkness? Just how many of these monsters are there? "There are... twenty-something bandits. The rest will arrive here in the morning."


    "So then, that question didn''t count, I''m going again." Scratch said with a playful tone.


    "What? Come on!"


    "Let''s see...why Clyde? Are there no cities or settlements to flee to? Where do the farmers sell their produce?"


    It was three questions in one. It took a moment for Patrick to unpack it. "Are you stupid." He said eventually. "We''re bandits. If we show ourselves near Eston we''ll get lynched."


    "hhhm..." The goblins somehow didn''t have any knowledge of human society. They were closer to animals than Patrick had thought.


    "Now me again." Patrick said eagerly. "When will Beatty ret-"


    "No." Scratch interrupted him. "I''m tired of this game. I''m leaving."


    "But you said..."


    "Yes. And I lied. Bye."


    -


    Scratch didn''t want to deal with the bandits anymore. The evening had been hectic and traumatic, he had discovered that First had been alive and was now dead at the same time, bandits had stormed in trying to negotiate for this and that, and stray facts on orcs and evil gods buzzed around in all the talking. He hadn''t even had the time to grieve.


    He had dealed with the situation as much as he could and decided to delegate the last part, currently, he didn''t have the energy for it anymore. He needed to retreat and meditate. Get rid of all these emotions.


    <hr>


    The room was completely silent.


    He was looking at her, she was looking at him. Neither was saying anything, but adrenaline coursed through their veins like a raging storm.


    In between them the teenager''s corpse had already gone cold.


    "Are you going to kill me?" The young woman asked.


    He sighed, for the first time in years he craved a cigarette. "Got any smokes?"


    Eyeing the weapon in his hand she nervously fumbled a packet out her coat.


    He held up two fingers for her to place a cigarette in and light it. She nervously did so, neither of them looking the other in the eye.


    Still grasping the gun and with the cigarette in his mouth he sat down on the living room floor. He gestured for her to do the same.


    Having no recourse but to obey the man with the weapon she lowered herself on the wooden floor.


    "I loved that kid." He said eventually, his face showing no emotion. "Do you find that hard to believe? Loved him like he was my own son."


    "I... I''m sorry."


    "Don''t say that." He pointed the gun at her. "I hate apologies." But he lowered it again.


    She didn''t know what else to say, so she stayed silent instead.


    "Ever killed anyone before?" He asked. "Before today?"


    "No." She lied.


    "Heh. Liar." He laughed, like it was a corny joke.


    They sat there, not saying anything, until his cigarette was used up.


    "The first time I killed a man..." he leaned back "...lessee, must have been your age. Shylock coming after my pops, surprised him with a twenty caliber at the top of the staircase tower. Pop!" He mimed it with his weapon, making as if to shoot her. "Right between the eyes." He put out the cigarette on the floor. "''Course, that doesn''t change anything. Just gets people riled up, killing. I didn''t understand that back then. They kill some of yours, you kill some of theirs. Pay like with like, right?"


    She swallowed.


    "Are you afraid of me?"


    "Yes."


    "Then why did you come here?"


    "I... I had to. Sonny made me, he''d kill me if-"


    "Sonny, you''re more afraid of Sonny than me?"


    She stopped. But then she got angry. "I-if you''re going to kill me, just get it over with!"


    "Convince me. Why should I kill you?"


    "Did you even really love him? You hate me then, come one!" She stood up. "Shoot me, take your revenge!"


    He looked at her, his eyes were tired. "Is that what you want? To die?"


    "Well, no... but..."


    He dug into his coat pocket and retrieved a data stick. "This what you were sent here for, the ledger. Isn''t it."


    She nodded.


    "Take it."


    When she nervously took it, he didn''t let go immediately.


    "Do you understand why I''m doing this?"


    She was deathly afraid of saying anything that would make him reconsider. "No..."


    "It is because I loved him, that I don''t hate you. No life should end with a murder, least of all two. So I''m putting a stop to this feud. Put that revenge thing out of your head, it has never done anybody any good."


    "Alright."


    "Alright." He let go of the stick and patted her cheek. "Now get the fuck out of my house."


    <hr>


    "So... I''m the strongest, huh?"


    "Oh Rhada, what have I done?" Lydia showed bemused regret at bolstering Huckabee''s confidence to this level.


    "I guess I''m pretty strong." He flexed. "I''ve been training with my sword my whole life. Even before I was exiled."


    Lydia stared into the flames. She had been a bandit leader for several years now. When she had been a knight in service to the kingdom she thought she had known the horrors of war. When she lost her citizenship and had to survive alongside the other outlaws in the wild she knew that what had come before was a walk in the park. After the last few days, all previous years of banditry seemed peaceful. What would come to her in the future?


    "Hey, boss? When Dee arrives, do you think you can tell her-"


    "Huckabee?"


    "Y-yes, boss?"


    "Are you alright?"


    "I-I''m fine..."


    She stared at him intently. "But are you alright?"


    He looked away. "I guess I''m trying not to think about it. I mean. That''s life right? If you''re a bandit."


    Lydia sighed and leaned backwards. "I''ll tell you the truth. I have no idea what to do next. I''m completely lost."


    "C''mon, boss. Don''t say that. Please. You always know what to do."


    She said nothing. She looked at the stars and tried to find the constellations belonging to each god.


    -


    The makeshift camp was unnaturally silent, but to someone like her sound was all around.


    There were goblins scurrying about, both in the light of the fire and out of it. Not too far away she could hear the rustling feathers of a single chicken.


    After some time listening to the ambient sounds she realized that the goblins were in a lot fewer number than they were trying to make them believe.


    She smiled at the little bluff, there was no way for them to keep it up after sunrise.


    -


    Huckabee had lain down to sleep. He had a worried look on his face but his eyes were closed.


    She could feel her own eyelids becoming heavy. It had been a long day and she only now felt how tired she really was.


    She started nodding and eventually closed her eyes.


    At the edge of her consciousness she still heard two goblins breaking off from the camp and sneaking into the darkness.


    <hr>


    "Where are we going?" Second was confused. Scratch had entrusted him and Teeth with a secret mission, outside the view of the humans.


    Teeth growled. "We''re going to find some bad goblins. You better keep your weapon in your hand."


    The crossbow had been left at the cave, in case of a violent clash with the badits. Teeth was carrying his sword and Second an iron-tipped spear.


    Teeth was setting the pace and he was jogging, ignoring the use trails and cutting a path straight across the chaotic forest floor, jumping over various logs and stones to keep up his momentum.


    "Just tell me what''s going on. So I''m better prepared." Second called after him.


    Teeth sighed, having to slow down to properly explain. "The human called our crossbow an ''orc weapon''. Scratch says that means the orcs come around here to deal with goblins. So we''re going to find them."


    "Okay. Why?"


    "Because the orcs want to kill the humans, and so do we. Now, hurry." Teeth increased his speed again.


    Second was left behind in doubt. He bit his lip. His feelings were conflicting again, on one hand he feared and hated- no, just feared the humans. On the other hand, every part of his body told him to go near Lydia Harkness, to bask in her warmth and stay together with her.


    Teeth clearly blamed the humans for First dieing, Yeller had been killed by them too. The lust was probably drowned out by his anger, or perhaps the lust fueled his anger. An additional affront to him, to make him want to love her when he really hated her.


    -


    During Teeth and the others'' round trip it had taken a day and a half to reach their current destination.


    But without baggage and running straight through the underbrush they arrived in a ew hours.


    They were the ruins of an ancient structure. To Teeth and Second the thing was too big to register it as a building, it seemed more akin to a peculiar rock formation, a part of nature in itself.


    What they found wasn''t a sprawling community of goblins. It was a mountain of corpses.


    They were strewn haphazardly across the stones and moss, cut up and in pieces, staining everything within sight with various hues of crimson and brown.


    Second fell backwards at the sight. "Wh-what''s going on?"


    Teeth violently hacked into the air to release his rage. "We traded with these goblins! They brought us the flour!" He was angry at seeing his acquaintances slaughtered, despite the mistrust of them he had shown Second.


    Second stayed on the ground. Waiting for Teeth to announce it was time to return.


    Instead, after a moment of deliberation. Teeth walked further into the ruins. "Come." He said.


    -


    Farther away from the main bloodbath the amount of gore subsided.


    Teeth led the way towards the most secure location in the fortress. Four sturdy walls surrounding the same room had survived, with an old metal prison door blocking the entrance.


    The door had been ripped of its hinges and the various prizes and treasures of this group had escaped or been stolen.


    Teeth grunted dissapointedly as Second suddenly snapped his head around at hearing something.


    "What is it?" Teeth whispered.


    "Footsteps."


    At hearing he had been discovered the unknown individual suddenly bolted away. He had been hiding behind a crumbled pillar.


    The two brothers quickly caught up with him. From the back it was visible that this was a goblin.


    Teeth tackled him to the ground and was about to stab him with his weapon when Second once again stopped him from killing.


    "Stop. That''s not what we''re here for."


    It seemed to pain Teeth to follow Second''s wiser words, but he relented and withdrew his sword. He then grabbed the stranger by the scruff of his neck and lifted him up.


    It had to be a young goblin. He didn''t show the marks of dishevelment and malnourishment that was typical of goblins.


    "Who are you and what were you doing here?" Teeth demanded to know.


    The creature started crying, mixing speech with pig noises. "Am *Gronk* Am Live Here. *Skreee.* No kill."


    "I forgot they talked like that." Second sighed, having spend almost all of his days around the cave and his brothers.


    "This is worse somehow." Teeth mentioned. "Who did all this?" He said to the goblin he was still holding.


    "*Kree.* *Kree.*"


    "Speak normal!" Teeth punched him with the hilt of his weapon.


    "Wow! Hey, Teeth!" Second objected.


    But the goblin responded. "Pig come here. Pig talk to us, give us food."


    "Uh-huh. Uh-huh." Teeth hurried him along impatiently.


    "Pig come back. Take goblins. Kill everyone."


    "So a pig did this?" Second asked.


    "A pig. Stand-on-two-legs pig. Leader say king will protect. But king never come."


    "Where are they now?" Teeth said.


    "Why did they come here?" Second tried to ask over it.


    The goblin covered his face with his hands.


    "Can you hear me? Where are they now?"


    The goblin pointed at a nearby hilltop. "They is live there. But they is leave."


    "Off to chase the bandits." Teeth said, throwing his capture to the ground. "We can probably follow this path to catch up to them. Let''s go." He started walking.


    Second kneeled next to the young goblin. "What''s your name?"


    "Second!" Teeth hissed impatiently.


    "Runt."


    "Runt. Those words. Those were the pig''s words, weren''t they?"


    Runt nodded. "I not know difference."


    "We better take him with us." He said to Teeth.


    Teeth raised an eyebrow.


    "For translation."


    <hr>


    Margaret should have been ecstatic.


    Here she was, on a mission with Laurus, the nightshade hero, whom she idolized. This could be the chance for them to grow closer together and eventually fall in love.


    However, there was an uncomfortable element to the situation. They were following a horde of the beasts, which was leaving a trail of destruction.


    "Who lived here?" She looked around.


    "Bandits." Laurus said. "There''ve been reports about them before. But never any Guild missions."


    Margaret exhaled in relief. She stroked her pegasus''s, Lady''s, head for comfort. "So no innocent people got hurt. Then."


    "No." Laurus smiled. "I guess we should thank the orcs for doing our work for us. That used campsite a bit back must have been their original base. The orcs raided them and they fled here."


    "And then the orcs followed them and attack them again?"


    "I guess."


    "Why?"


    Laurus looked uncomfortable too. "I don''t know. This is highly tactical for orcs. But if any time is good for attacking them it''s now."


    "Can you track them?"


    "We''re going to need to follow the horse tracks." With Laurus'' pegasus, Shadow, he quickly darted back and forth over a large area with a few beats of his wings. "There are multiple tracks. I think from horses that were just let loose as well."


    "Must have been to confuse the orcs." Margaret commented, still stroking Lady''s mane. "We could either go back to the orc camp or try to follow one of these trails."


    Laurus stroked his chin. "Let''s take the one that leads us back in the direction of the Witchwood. If that''s a false trail we''ll be able to circle around easily enough anyway."


    "Okay." Said Margaret, trying not to sigh. It wasn''t a mission for excitement, but for the common good. She had to keep that in mind.


    <hr>


    With the prisoners now having taken over watching the bound bandit completely, Dumb staying at the entrance, and the duo of Second and Teeth being send outside, Scratch had gathered Kicker, Biter and Quiet in the dining room.


    "Is there anything unclear about my plan?" He concluded.


    "Yes." Kicker and Biter said in unison.


    "Then what?"


    "Who is clait?" Asked Kicker.


    Scratch sighed. "Pay attention. Clyde I made up. We''re buying time with the humans by making them think we have what they want."


    "You only told that to the hostage though." Said Biter.


    "Look." Scratch rubbed his temples. "It doesn''t matter. We''re spinning a lie about there being some sort of tamer character when there isn''t."


    "Okay." Said Kicker. "But only until morning."


    "Once it''s morning our house of cards will come falling down." Scratch said. "Then there is no hiding our numbers."


    "So you''re having Second and Teeth find the orcs." Biter recounted. "And we''ll meet them..."


    "...in around three hours." Scratch finished the sentence. "You don''t need to know what an hour is. Just when the moon is at the top of the straight line of stars. That''s what I told Teeth."


    "Why trust the orcs?" Quiet whispered.


    "Why trust the orcs?" Scratch repeated louder so the others could hear what question he was answering. "We can only assume orcs are the evolved state of goblins, like that Horns character we fought. There has to be some basis of mutual understanding there. In any case, it''s best to hear both sides of the story. Even if we can''t reason with them, we need to at least know more. Our situation is looking pretty bleak with what we know now. Information gathering is vital."


    He gave a tone of finality to these last words. As if he was done answering questions.


    "Oh. Oh." Biter hopped up and down his seat with an additional question.


    "Biter?"


    "What''s a house of cards?"


    "Never mind that. Get some shut-eye. I''ll wake you when it''s time to spring into action."


    <hr>


    Evil Gods


    Besides the twelve main gods that rule all positive aspects of reality, there are countless smaller gods that govern elements of evil. They are the fragments of the destroyed God of Evil, whose name is lost to time. Every evil god has their own name and form, often monstrous and inhuman. Just like the gods of positive aspects they seek to spread their own influence by increasing the propensity for their aspect in the world, their dealings are therefore invariably evil.


    One of the most powerful evil gods is Manshuu, evil god of bloodshed. This god is responsible for multiple demon kings over the centuries, as a unified monster force attacking humanity is sure to cause a great deal of bloodshed and monsters that are interested in doing so benefit greatly in becoming Manshuu''s champion. Just like the main gods each evil god can make a creature their champion, they often choose a monster as their champion rather than a person, since, as weaker deities, the effect is lessened compared to a true god.


    Some other prolific evil gods are the five-head gods of indulgence, whose fragmentation is incomplete and are still joined into a single entity despite having separate minds, the evil god of destruction Tamber, who is known to create singular rampaging beasts as champion, and Pinchin, the evil god of death and undeath, who even now holds dominion over the dark lands via his champion, the ravenous lich and his army of the undead.


    It is not uncommon for A-level adventurers to find themselves directly at odds with an evil god, but even when defeating a champion and destroying the armies of an evil god, killing them is impossible.

 Communion

    Patrick laid still for what felt like an hour, until he was confident that the guards were not as intently focused on him anymore.


    He slowly started rolling on his side, unfurling the leather restrain and leaving him with only the rope bindings. No sound was made by his captors as he did this.


    Without being able to use his hands he tried to raise to his feet, when he suddenly loudly bonked his head on the ceiling. *Thwack!*


    "Aaargh!" He exclaimed as he fell on his face.


    "Huhm? What, are you escaping?" A goblin''s voice asked groggily from the darkness.


    "Apparently not." He said sardonically.


    "Okay..." The goblin went back to sleep.


    How... how did that work? His own guile surprised him. Now, if only I could get out of these bonds and see if I remember the candlelight spell. I can''t see a thing. And if I can''t see a thing, I can''t escape.


    He curled up and tried to kick off the rope with his feet, which nearly dislocated both his thumbs.


    "Nnng." He groaned in pain.


    The goblin angrily threw a pebble at him to stop him from making so much noise.


    Patrick wriggled around on the floor to find a sharp edge, but surprisingly the cave was an unnatural hewn chamber and most of the floor was smooth. Eventually he bumped his head against a sharp corner and he spend the next hour rubbing his binding against it until it snapped.


    When he hands finally came loose from the restricting rope he had to stifle a celebratory yelp.


    He still raised his hands in triumph and waited for the goblin guard to respond. But the guard was fast asleep.


    It''s a good thing I payed attention in school. He thought to himself as he held his hands cupped in front of him. Even a regular joe like me is able to cast a spell like this.


    With some concentration he conjured a flickering light emanating from between his hands. It illuminated the room, which seemed like a primitive sleeping quarter with a large fur object as a bed.


    The goblin guard was fast asleep, cradling his crossbow weapon like a beloved plush.


    That''s obviously an orcen weapon. Patrick thought immediately. We''ve walked right into a trap.


    He sneaked out of the room into a sloped hallway. It was better to run out than to kill the guard and risk alerting others.


    There were multiple rooms connected to the hallway and a faint light could be detected coming from above, pale moonlight peeking between bricks and streaking into the dusty underground.


    Somehow he felt a distinct unease letting his gaze fall onto the other direction of the tunnel, snaking downwards.


    Suddenly he heard footsteps. He held his breath and extinguished the magical light.


    Now that mere darkness hadn''t been able hide him before he dove deeper into the depths.


    After almost a minute he inhaled again, gasping for breath.


    He hadn''t been caught.


    If the sound had come from a goblin he had ignored him. Then again. It could have been an echo from his own footsteps.


    -


    As he was lying on his stomach in the darkness it occurred to him that others of the bandits had been captured here.


    If they were they had to have been in the other rooms. Either that or deeper into the cave.


    He got up. I''m sorry friends, but I have to report this to the main group, I have to tell them not to come here.


    With tears in his eyes he resolved to flee and made a light again.


    He then noticed he was standing in front of three goblins, all holding metal implements, almost resembling mining tools.


    He put up his hands to fight but one of them hurled a big rock at his head, knocking him down.


    As he was losing consciousness he looked at the piece of unrefined ore next to his head. It almost seemed like... gold.


    <hr>


    "So... it''s late." Biter mentioned.


    "I know." Scratch said.


    They had walked around the smoldering campfire and into the forest and were no far away from the visitors enough to speak freely without having to whisper.


    "You said you''d wake us up."


    "I know."


    "And you didn''t."


    "Biter. I know. I made a mistake and overslept. Now be silent about it."


    The moon had passed the point where it had been for the rendezvous, so they were hurrying.


    Dumb had been relieved and was now sleeping. Quiet was the new front guard. Scratch, Kicker and Biter were the ones meeting up with Teeth and Second for the briefing.


    -


    The two had been waiting patiently at the old town Horns had ruled. But there was a third goblin with them.


    "Did you get held up?" Second asked.


    "Never mind that. Who''s your friend?"


    "A survivor." Teeth said. "He knows their words."


    "T-this is Runt." Second said, patting the other on the back.


    "He knows their words?" Scratch echoed. "The orcs speak another language? Horns didn''t."


    Runt looked nervous, he tried to explain. "Orcs no say get food, orcs say *skreek kah*."


    Scratch looked at him without expression.


    "Uhm... Runt says the orcs killed his tribe for no reason." Second tried to steer the conversation back.


    "Is that so?" Scratch raised an eyebrow. "I suppose they taught you their language in between the killings, did they?"


    "Hey, yeah!" Kicker couldn''t help but make a comment after realizing the discrepancy himself.


    "N...no." Runt looked attacked and scared. "Orcs is make peace. Give things. Then one day come kill. Said is looking for..."


    "Looking for what?"


    "...word is *grug*."


    "Of course it is." Scratch shook his head.


    "Is he lying?" Teeth asked him, he drew his sword.


    "I see no reason to assume he is. Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction." Scratch sighed.


    "We''ve got nothing then." Second said.


    "Did we waste our time doing this?" Kicker yawned.


    "Not quite." Scratch said. "The orcs have an agenda, they''re looking for something, and they''re desperate enough to get it to kill off populations they''ve invested time and resources in."


    "How does that help us?"


    "All we need to do is get in the way between them and the *grug*. Makes sense, right?"


    "We don''t even know what the *grug* is."


    "We''ll figure it out. Let''s meet up with them and negotiate for the humans. Runt will have to be our translator."


    Runt was accustomed to large and complex language, so he knew exactly what they were saying. He didn''t look happy about it.


    <hr>


    ¡¾Careful. Careful...¡¿Alpheba is very precariously transporting the feybloom from my adventurer''s bag to her preservation case.


    Alpheba is always cute, but when she''s concentrating really hard she''s extra cute!


    ¡¾Done!" She wipes the sweat of her forehead, all satisfied.¡¾Now it won''t lose any more petals.¡¿


    ¡¾Well done Alpheba!¡¿I hug her because I can and sniff her hair. ¡¾Now we can go back and your master can brew that elixir!¡¿


    ¡¾Careful!¡¿Alpheba yells.¡¾I almost dropped it!¡¿The case is wobbling on top of her hand.


    I grab it with both hands.¡¾Let''s get going then.¡¿


    ¡¾Yes... let''s... Hey, Beatrice?¡¿


    ¡¾What are you going to do about what the fairy queen said?¡¿


    Alpheba is worried about me! That makes me so happy!


    ¡¾Weeelll...¡¿I think about it.¡¾I suppose that if it''s my destiny it''ll happen anyway. So I don''t need to do anything.


    Besides, I took a quest to escort you and I still need to escort you back.¡¿


    ¡¾But...¡¿Alpheba is being shy.¡¾...if you''ll stop the orcs, that means there really are orcs near the Witchwood.¡¿


    I pat her head.¡¾Don''t worry. If we come across any, I''ll keep you safe.¡¿


    And like that we make our way back. I am in a good mood and I all to easily start walking too fast so I have to make sure I''m not making Alpheba run to catch up.


    ¡¾Beatrice?" She says eventually.¡¾What made you want to become an adventurer? You''re a highborn noble aren''t you?¡¿


    ¡¾What made me want to become an adventurer?¡¿I never really thought about it before. I suppose I felt it was the natural thing to do because of the setting we''re in.¡¾For the excitement... I think.¡¿I give as my answer.¡¾Oh, and to find other heroes.¡¿I''m pretty sure all heroes are reincarnated Japanese like myself, I already met a viscount''s son when we were both young, that spoke to me about his previous life, and one other adventurer here in Reddington.


    With my last sentence Alpheba gets a mischievous grin on her face.¡¾So you couldn''t wait, huh?¡¿


    ¡¾Whhaaat?¡¿Innocent little Alpheba said that?¡¾I... it''s true that nobles are expected to marry high-level adventurers. But... It''s nothing like that!¡¿


    ¡¾You''re looking for Laurus, the nightshade hero?¡¿Alpheba continues to tease.¡¾They say he''s the dark, mysterious kind.¡¿


    ¡¾It''s not like that, okay? I just... am curious about how people like us are born with so much potential.¡¿


    Alpheba is nonplussed.¡¾Isn''t that because you''re a duke''s daughter? A lot of potential is to be expected from someone of your birth, right?¡¿


    I thump my chest.¡¾No way. I was called a prodigy you know? I was considered a D level adventurer when I was only your age.¡¿


    ¡¾Woow! No way! So you could fight off an orc when you were still small?¡¿


    ¡¾Yup. So you see, this prophecy, it''s no big trouble for me. I can kill an orc warlord with one hand tied behind my back. Because I have the power of the rose hero!¡¿


    <hr>


    "Are you ready yet!?" Kubar bellowed impatiently.


    "We''re not." Groaned Grat. "Manshuu needs a sacrifice before he is willing to inform our mystics."


    "Well. Get on with it then." Kubar ordered, as he continued to eat.


    It''d be a lot easier if you didn''t keep eating every animal we find. Grat thought to himself.


    They had chased the wrong horse herd and now had to use the mystics again to track down their prey. This little extermination mission was turning into an excursion of multiple days, time they should have been spending looking for the core, according to Grat. Now Kubar was chewing on the entrails of the captured horse, when bleeding a large creature like that was exactly what would have been able to call down their god of bloodshed to possess a mystic.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Nobody else had a problem with Kubar''s gluttony, they had accepted the situation and went out to capture another beast immediately. They wouldn''t get far in this darkness.


    It probably wouldn''t be until tomorrow that a suitable sacrifice was captured, then they''d spend two days trying to catch up to the humans. Who knows how far they''d have gotten by that point. What if they had reached the fairy queen?


    Naturally, Kubar didn''t worry about stuff like that. He was completely focused on his food.


    "Don''t we have humanoid slaves here?" Kubar said suddenly, in-between chewing. "Use them."


    "That... actually makes sense." Grat scratched his head. The goblins weren''t slaves per se, but they trusted the orc tribe because they had given them weapons to subdue their rivals. It was their standard tactic for dealing with lesser intelligent beings.


    "Of course it makes sense." Kubar said with his mouth full. "I was the one who thought of it, wasn''t I?"


    Grat ignored the comment. He set out immediately to capture a few plump goblins to bleed out with his fellow tribe members.


    -


    The grunts he took with him were Prakk and Horr. They were idiots but at least they listened to Grat when he conveyed Kubar''s orders.


    "There are some humanoids that way." He pointed in the general direction of the nest. "They don''t run when they see orcs, so we''ll just go in and take five of them with us. Do you guys understand?"


    "Of course." Prakk said, while picking the snot out of his snout. "Go in, kill some humanoids. What''s there not to get?"


    "No. You absolute ape-brain. We capture them alive, to use in a blood ritual. Don''t you harm a hair on their body yet."


    Prakk looked angry, but he nodded.


    "Horr. Did you hear?"


    Horr nodded silently.


    "Okay, let''s go."


    <hr>


    "What are we doing?" Teeth grunted angrily. First the crossbow had to be left at home and now he had been forced to ditch the sword he''d been so proud of.


    "Disguising ourselves." Scratch said matter-of-factly while folding up his clothes. All six of them were now wearing loincloths.


    It was a nostalgic sensation, but also a very chilly one.


    By not wearing any self-made equipment, Scratch reasoned, and by visibly donning weapons meted out to goblin vassals, they would be able to disguise themselves as the vassals Runt had spoken of. That was a good position to do some information gathering.


    "You three," he addressed Kicker, Biter and Second. "Stay at a distance. If our plan goes wrong you go running back."


    "And then?" Said Second.


    "Then you tell the rest how we died. I mean, there''s not really a plan B, if this goes wrong everybody dies."


    "In that case we''re coming with you." Biter said.


    Scratch put his hand over his forehead. "Biter, no. More people won''t-"


    "Can I not go?" Runt tried cautiously.


    "You can''t- I mean you have to- I mean... you''re our translator, you''re coming with."


    Second opened his mouth. "I think that-"


    "This is not a brainstorming session guys. I made a plan and we''re sticking with it. That''s what makes me the leader, now come."


    -


    They had picked up the weapons from dead goblins in the ruins. Each one of them was carrying some variation of a hacking knife or axe. They were more intimidating than practical and manufactured out of a completely black metal.


    They not so accidentally looked like a raiding group of bloodthirsty goblins, wielding deadly weapons. They walked with purpose as they had learned the location of one of the orcs'' largest vassals in the region from Runt. This was a tribe that had purposefully gone out of their way to avoid making contact with Teeth''s trading caravan, but hadn''t attacked them either.


    When they did get there they walked around in circles a few times before discovering the group had made their nest underneath their feet, in-between the roots of an ancient dead tree. The roots of the tree held up the earth, forming an acceptable ceiling for the community.


    They only really saw them when a guard wielding a war-axe that was too big for him climbed out from between two roots and swung at them threateningly. He made strange pig noises.


    *Skreee.* *Gnog.*


    "It seems like the orc way of speaking has taken over completely." Scratch commented. "Runt, tell them we''re just looking for their... friends."


    Nervously Runt made similar noises back, but the defender didn''t at all seem open to a discussion, he swung the weapon some more, just to remind them that he had it. It didn''t seem like he was actually aiming to hit any of them to anyone except Runt, who cringed at it cowardly.


    It surprised Scratch how quickly he was picking up the language. The others had copied his own speech pattern almost immediately, but now he himself was experiencing the benefits of a goblin mind and perfect recollection.


    The guard was accusing them of something, probably making up a story as an excuse to get close, while Runt just kept on repeating the same words.


    "Stop." Scratch tried applying the noises he had heard in his own sentence. "We do not want...something... except for... the way there. Point us."


    It wasn''t an elegant sentence, but it was understood. The stranger pointed into the woods with a furious expression on his face.


    They could have been forgiven for thinking the goblin had just pointed in a random direction to get rid of them, if there hadn''t been a posse of three large creatures stomping towards them from that very direction at the moment.


    What came towards them couldn''t have been orcs. Scratch had formed a solid image of what orcs had to look like.


    This world was obviously a created one, and the creatures that inhabited it had to be derived from popular fiction. As such, goblin was the term for small humanoid monster and orc for a larger version of that. It made sense with the concept of spontaneous evolution and the fantasy fiction of his home world that orc referred to the larger orange goblins like Horns.


    What he saw here were upright-walking pigs. They had pig heads and their bodies were rotund and fat. They did wear black armor, and the had hands and a general skeleton that was similar to those of humans, but they didn''t resemble any fantasy creature he had ever heard of.


    As he stared incredulously the goblins poured out of the lair and crowded around the three pig creatures, they seemed happy to see their benefactors again.


    For the so-manieth time the goblins reminded Scratch of playful children, this time ones that were greeting and bothering a long-absent father or adult relative.


    One of the armored being grabbed one of the jumping tykes by the head and crushed his skull with his hand.


    This greatly shocked the crowd and they started to flee from the visitors.


    Another orc, slightly smaller than the murderer, smacked his comrade on the back of his head and yelled at him in pig noises. It went too fast to understand but there was a negative assertion in there somewhere, a ''not'' word of some sort.


    The goblins, of which there were close to twenty, scattered in all directions. Some fled into the forest, while others ducked into their underground lair. The guard they had spoken to didn''t seem to want any of them following them for shelter.


    The orcs were chasing the crowds, but being large and heavy creatures they didn''t have the agility to get their hands on any others.


    Teeth had his weapon drawn and pointed at the enemy, the rest reluctantly followed suit.


    "Guys!" Second yelped.


    They all looked at him.


    He only said one word. "No!"


    It was clearly a superior foe. They had amped themselves up for battle automatically, the weapons in their hands gave them a disproportional amount of confidence and they had almost stepped forward to challenge the pig beings.


    <hr>


    "What are you doing!?" Grat was furious. He repeatedly slapped Horr on the back of his head. "I said do not kill. DO NOT."


    Horr swatted his hand away annoyed.


    The goblins were already fleeing from them. When shown such a decisive immediate blow even a goblin will know fear, especially if it doesn''t have a sharp object to swing back with.


    The three tried to grab other goblins, but the tiny creatures were too nimble and fast.


    "This is just great. Horr, did you hear me? I said this is just great. You''ve really outdone yourself." Grat spat furiously.


    "Shut up." Horr growled. As the bigger orc he had a higher status, yet Grat always insulted him, just because he was a trusted adviser of Kubar.


    -


    "Look. There." Grat distracted from the conversation by pointing at a bunch of healthy and plump looking goblins standing still right in the open. They didn''t look emaciated like most you would come across. They were carrying weapons that had been supplied by the orc tribe but lowered them and backed away instead of using them, which was an unusual amount of sense for a goblin. "There''s got to be some blood in those. Get them."


    Now wasn''t the time to discuss who got to give who orders, so Prakk simply charged at the the pack, his arms spread as widely as possible in order to pin them with his body.


    To Grat''s surprise a one-eyed goblin purposefully stood in the way of Prakk''s sweeping arm. As soon as they collided the creature firmly held on to the body part in order to redirect its movement, his whole body contorted in order to twist


    Prakk''s arm and force him on top of himself.


    Now squashed under the orc''s weight, there was no doubt that the goblin had hurt himself more than he had hurt his attacker, but with the move he disrupted Prakk''s movement and gave his fellow goblins room to dodge and escape.


    "Pshaw!" Prakk yelled angrily as he saw the troupe run away from him. He smashed the goblin that had foiled him into the ground, which knocked the creature out.


    "Get those ones!" Grat yelled as he jumped over Prakk to chase after them. "We need multiple for the bloodletting."


    The truth was that he was intrigued. If they wanted to they could probably rip apart the nest or force the goblin tribe to deliver them one of their own, but these goblins obviously didn''t belong to this nest. One of them had deflected Prakk, who had to be more than ten times his weight.


    Grat wasn''t particularly interested in humanoid behavior, but by the standards of his tribe he was learned on the subject. He took pride in being the most knowledgeable about these creatures and now he encountered a mystery. There was no harm in chasing down the anomalies and seeing what they returned.


    <hr>


    There was no amount of novice-level martial arts training and proper risk analysis that could save the party from being captured by the orcs.


    It seemed like the creatures had intentionally singled them out and went after them specifically.


    They also didn''t kill or hurt them, despite Teeth seriously scratching one their face when he had him pinned.


    Eventually they were carried away, under the arms of the orcs, by the scruff of their necks or dangling from their leg, to the orcs'' current camp.


    Scratch was still unconscious. The blow to his head had been severe and could only have a lasting impact on him.


    -


    The brothers were thrown into a big pile in the middle of a large crowd of the orcs. The numbers of the large beings seemed completely overwhelming at the moment.


    "How are we going to get out of this one?" Second asked Teeth.


    "Get Scratch to wake up." Teeth answered, then he turned to Runt, who had been thrown after them as an afterthought as he seemed to be their accompaniment, more or less. "What are they saying."


    "They all speak same time." Runt said in a tired voice. "I no hear."


    Just then that situation changed as an orc much larger than the rest made his way between the crowd. The rest fell silent and he began to speak.


    Teeth looked at Runt expectingly.


    After a moment Runt understood the meaning of his look and started translating. "He say... he say god is near."


    "God.. who''s God?" Biter moaned, lying underneath Kicker, who was thrown on top of him on the pile.


    Runt didn''t answer, he seemed annoyed at getting his translation interrupted.


    The biggest orc seemed to get challenged on something by a smaller one, but he was dismissive of his words.


    "He say what we are not matter. He say must get blood for... for spilling blood."


    At that moment an orc approached with what looked like a sickle. A path in the crowd opened towards one of the creatures sitting in a meditative position in-between smoke producing lamps.


    The orc lifted Kicker by his hair, which was immensely painful for him and made him scream out while being dragged off.


    "Scratch. Scratch." Second shook his brother.


    "Tell them to use their own blood..." Scratch said in a weak voice, he was dazed and only half-conscious.


    Runt didn''t say anything as Kicker was dragged in front of the entranced orc and his neck exposed.


    "What''s the word for blood?" Second quickly asked him.


    *Dreg* Runt whispered the noise for him.


    The slaughtering orc raised his sickle to slash the sacrifice''s jugulars.


    "Spill your own blood!" Second yelled as loud as he could in the words he had picked up from the orcs'' language over the day, so much strain did he put on his voice that he was instantly hoarse.


    The killer paused in surprise as the sudden audacious remark.


    Everyone was silent when the orc leader suddenly started laughing.


    <hr>


    Once again Grat found himself annoyed at Kubar''s exuberance.


    He had tried to convince him to let him study the creatures a bit before the sacrifice, but he had insisted on starting the ritual as soon as possible.


    A mystic was in place, the blue grass had been ignited, everything was ready for a blood sacrifice and the start of another communion.


    After all that a single rude comment from the goblin was enough to stop everything in its tracks and make Kubar roar joyously with laughter.


    It wasn''t like goblins weren''t known to talk back even when you''re actually about to kill them, they had a reduced fear response and weren''t as quickly intimidated as other creatures. Then again, Kubar, along with most orcs, didn''t make much of a distinction between humanoids.


    "Use our own blood! That''s a good one!" Kubar''s laughter continued, others joined him to flatter their leader.


    Abruptly he stopped. "I see you''re one of those who can talk. I''ll let you live. Then we''ll show you blood is given only by the weak. Continue the-"


    "Argh!" Nuruk, the executioner had been distracted by the spectacle and Kubar''s response and loosened his grip on the goblin about to be sacrificed. The creature had used this opportunity to bite his hand and make him drop the sickle.


    With such a large collection of orc warriors surrounding them there wasn''t much risk of him successfully running off, but there was the risk off...


    Grat didn''t have the time to warn him, he could only open his mouth and shriek as the goblin picked up the bloodletting knife from the ground and in one fluid motion slid open Nuruk''s throat with the sharped implement.


    The executioner collapsed on the floor, blood rushing profusely out of his slashed artery.


    Multiple orcs rushed towards him and his attacked when the mystic opened his eyes and an intense shining light drowned their surroundings.


    -


    "Kubar!" The god exclaimed, his voice coming from the mystics body, its tone of divine fury making the orcs shrink back in fear.


    "Manshuu..." Kubar responded, visibly shocked, but not cowering like the others.


    This communion was different than the others. Manshuu, god of bloodshed wasn''t here to help them their mission, he was here to tell them off.


    "You have promised me a dungeon core Kubar." He spat menacingly. "What have you given me since then, huh?


    Endless petitions for more guidance!"


    "Boss, it''s not my fault. My friends got spotted... we need to stop the humanoids from-"


    The fury of the god contorted the mystic''s face in an expression he was not physically capable of and ripped apart muscles in his face. Hands and arms of a muddy red material emerged from the ground where the blood had been spilled and started wildly grabbing at their surroundings. "I did not ask for your excuses, you filthy animal! Every day you spend playing with your feed is one my rival grows stronger! Now even hobgoblins have appeared, soon he will have a dungeon of his very own!"


    Kubar audibly gulped.


    "You are my champion, you serve me, not the other way around. Now go and find that core. It is controlled by goblins, not humans, goblins. Find it! I have prophesied your end before, make sure you serve your purpose before that, you know what will happen to your soul if you don''t."


    With those last words the god has enough and exited the mystic''s body, who fell to his knees and held his mutilated face.


    The orcs were spreading out to let the animated arms of blood crawl away, they knew from experience the things could get exceedingly nasty when their path was blocked.


    Kubar gasped for air. Nothing about this was good.


    <hr>


    Scratch still wasn''t completely clear of mind.


    "What happened?" He whispered.


    "What happened?" Second scratched his head. "Kicker killed an orc and then..." He turned to Runt. "... and then what happened?"


    Runt was wide-eyed and in complete shock. "It... the boss said not humans, goblins have *grug*."


    "The boss?"


    Runt pointed at the crying orc with the torn face on the ground.


    "Fantastic." Scratch got up. "So now they''re going to go after goblins. That''s us. Although.. is it? I don''t know anymore."


    With the orcs fleeing from the strange arm things it seemed like this was the ideal time to escape, however, the smaller of the three orcs that had captured them quickly grabbed on to kicked from behind, to make him drop the sharp weapon.


    He grunted something that was obviously an expletive.


    "Runt." Scratch said, resigned to something. "Please tell them we''ll give them their grug or whatever if they let us live."


    Runt hurriedly delivered the message.


    The small orc seemed skeptical but the large leader jumped at mention of the prize and barked at him to let him go.


    "What are you doing?" Second whispered in Scratch''s ear.


    "Stalling for time." Was the answer. "Don''t worry. You''ll think of something."


    <hr>


    Crimson Graspers


    Family: Elementals


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 1 silver piece


    An earth elemental created by dark magic, it longs only to kill and has no survival instincts. crimson graspers have the appearance of humanoid arms, drenched in blood. They are actually elementals composed of mud with not weak spots to attack. Because of their lack of mobility and intelligence they are considered a low threat, however, even for an experienced adventurer getting within grasping distance of a crimson grasper is serious trouble, as they possess immense strength and killing power.


    Not much is known about the origin of crimson graspers, other than that evil magic is involved in their creation. Crimson graspers can be expected in areas were dark magic has a large presence, such as a land corrupted by darkness or a dungeon.

 Enevitable

    "What is this all about?" Dumb was trying to fill in the role of leader when Scratch and the others still hadn''t returned.


    He should be focusing on the invaders arriving at their doorstep, but instead he found himself side-tracked by the prisoners starting commotion over some shiny metal.


    "It''s gold." Scream said in a very serious tone. "That''s bad."


    On the dinner table lay a piece of hewn stone with the glistening yellow material peeking out. It had a stain of blood on it.


    "Why, is it poisonous?"


    Scream swayed from side to side a bit, trying to come up with the proper words. "If the humans know there is gold here, they''ll never go away."


    "What are you saying, exactly?"


    "Humans love gold." Laugh said, more agitated. "More than food, more than sleep."


    Scream was still trying to stay calm. "We''ve seen before that if a human knows you have gold, he''ll chase you for days to get it."


    "Normally they''ll attack when you try to steal from them, or during the great killing time, but they think all gold to belongs to them and they''ll attack you just for having it." Digger said to corroborate the story.


    "So we just won''t show it to them. You found it in the deepest part of the mine, correct?" Dumb decided. "No humans can come down there."


    "Well..." Scream bit his lip.


    "Oh no."


    "Patrick... was..."


    "Snooping." Digger helped him.


    "Snooping around in the night. He might have gone down the tunnel..." Scream quickly shuffled behind Digger to avoid Dumb''s gaze.


    Dumb sighed deeply. The stress was getting to him. He had received no word from Scratch''s party, he was supposed to presume them dead, although he didn''t really believe they were yet. Since the sun had come up a great big tribe of humans had come to the cave and was sleeping among the cleared trees of the perimeter and near the tower. And now he learned that a substance that aroused their bloodlust was inside, something that could possibly even overturn the calming effect of Scratch''s bizarre lie.


    Speaking of which...


    "Is Quiet still outside?" Dumb said concerned.


    <hr>


    "How''s it smell?" The cook asked Quiet.


    The two were standing over a large pot the goblins had lent to the bandits, in which soup from horse guts was being prepared.


    With Quiet all vocabulary on cooking and smell necessary for an eloquent response was missing, and in any case he didn''t have the social grace to adequately respond to a stranger.


    He settled with an affirmative sounding "uh-huh". As if to say ''it smells as good as you''re suggesting it does''.


    -


    "Are you keeping an eye on the goblin?" Harkness appeared next to Dee, who was watching the cooking hut from a distance.


    "I think he''s here to keep an eye on us." She answered. "But he''s distracted by the food."


    "I''ve looked around." The bandit leader said. "There are very little signs of life in the neighborhood. Goblins or otherwise."


    Dee, in her tired state, leaned against the wall of a mud hut, but quickly righted herself when she almost pushed it in.


    "You said a group of them snuck out last night to get their master."


    "That''s what I assumed they left for. But maybe they just fled. Have you ever heard of a noble house called Beatty?"


    "Beatty? No."


    "I thought so, me neither. The one that has tamed these goblins goes under that name."


    "Is waiting here really the best plan we have?"


    "It''s the only one. We can''t flee into the sea and we can''t survive in the Witchwood. Sooner or later we will have to face the orcs." She looked around. "And I know none of you can continue riding in this state. You need sleep."


    As if she had been given permission Dee lowered herself to sit down. "Maybe..." she yawned "... we''ll fight them off, with the cleared forest and the hedge, we can pick them off before they get..." she closed her eyes.


    Harkness stepped over her. Fight them off? Not on your life. Beatty... please hurry up.


    <hr>


    Second and Biter were carrying Scratch, who was fading in and out of consciousness due to the severe head trauma, with his arms over their shoulders.


    The whole troupe was leading the way for the orc legion towards a destination unknown. They had picked a random direction and just started hiking, an army of monsters in their wake.


    "What''s the plan?" Teeth whispered.


    Second was racking his brain. "Small and Last..." he said eventually "...couldn''t kill you on their own. So they led you to the humans so they could kill you."


    "Right...?" Teeth wasn''t impressed by the analogue of events, mainly because he would have thought of it himself if he had known about an enemy stronger than the orcs.


    "As long as they''re fighting someone, anyone, we can escape."


    Teeth angrily pushed against him, effectively using Scratch''s body as a battering ram. "When they win they''ll come find us again!" He had lost his self-control and wasn''t whispering anymore.


    Behind them an orc made angry and accusatory grunts towards them, but the orc leader shut him down.


    "...it''s a feudal society though, isn''t it?" Scratch was babbling.


    "What is he saying?" Teeth asked Second.


    "A farm like that, it sells produce. Who does it sell produce to? A nation. A country. A specialized society, with a military." Scratch continued.


    "Scratch, what are you saying?" Second asked him.


    "Downriver, follow the river downstream." Scratch answered.


    <hr>


    In his delerium, life was passing him by. Even the most early stages of his previous life. Suddenly he remembered them with blinding clarity.


    "Your mother is going to jail." His father dropped on him while he was watching tv. "You''ll be living with me."


    While distracted by the colourful images he was still cognizant of the great impact. "Mama is going to...?"


    "Jail. The slammer. Prison." The man opened a can of beer, the so-manieth that day. Strangely, alcohol never seemed to affect him.


    The blabbering of cartoon characters ran through their conversation. "Why?"


    "Why? It''s the law, you do the crime, you do the time."


    "But why?"


    It was an empty protest, but the man took it seriously.


    He set down his beer and lowered himself next to his son. "How would you feel if someone in your class took your ruler and the teacher didn''t do anything about it? Wouldn''t you want them to get detention?"


    Detention for borrowing a ruler? He looked unconvinced at his father.


    "Maybe after spending some time in detention, he''ll have a different outlook on things, right? Maybe he won''t take anything without permission anymore."


    "So if she won''t do it again, and she says she won''t do it again, and they know she won''t do it again, she doesn''t have to... do the time?"


    "I... not quite. Think about how thee victims must feel if she doesn''t get punished. That would be unfair."


    "Unfair..." Because of their feelings, taking away his mother was fair. He didn''t understand, he could never understand. Why were their feelings anybody''s responsibility but their own?


    "And think about this," his father father continued, "if everybody saw you could do a crime once without getting punished, everybody would do it, once."


    Over time, he would come to see the logic of this argument. For an orderly society, the people had to fear their leaders. A consistent policy of punishment, a consistent reminder of the powers of the institution, to scare the regular citizens into behaving.


    Throughout all his years, he would never hate law enforcement. They were fine men, doing a fine job keeping the footfolk in check. For that they needed to demonstrate their power on people like him, it was only natural, nothing to be bitter about.


    <hr>


    It was obvious to Grat that the goblins were planning something, they seemed like they were conversing, arguing among each other. Although when he came near he could only make out shrieking monkey noises.


    "It''s a trap! Boss, they''re planning something!"


    "Grat. Shut up." Kubar grunted.


    He had been shaken by the mystic''s words. So completely had he changed priorities that he had mobilized the entire war force to follow this little cadre that had promised them the location of the dungeon core.


    It had to be expected, Kubar was a champion of Manshuu, god of bloodshed, and he had promised him the core. If


    Kubar couldn''t satisfy the promise Manshuu would feed his soul to demons.


    Suddenly the goblins changed directions.


    "What are they doing, where are we going now?" Kubar demanded to know in an agitated fashion.


    The goblins made some noises towards each other, but eventually the one that could speak the best explained it to the orcs. "Is safest path..." he said. "no tribes..."


    The stinking monkeys had made them take a huge detour to avoid something the average orc could stamp through on his own.


    Grat bared his teeth against his fate. I am surrounded by idiots. He thought.


    <hr>


    I am killing crimson graspers with Margaret.


    They''re a fun enemy to slash at, but they''re actually pretty rare. You never see a group of graspers attack a town, or a merchant requesting crimson grasper extermination. You usually have to look for them to find them. Oh well, it can''t be helped.


    ¡¾Damn these creatures.¡¿Margaret slashed on with her sword.¡¾Holy lance!¡¿A beam of light emerges from her weapon to make her attack more powerful.¡¾Isn''t this supposed to be a level F area?¡¿


    She''s right. Crimson graspers are ranked in the adventurer''s manual as having threat level D. A level F area can have a few level E enemies, and there''s no preventing higher level monsters from passing through once in a while, like orcs.


    But elementals? How is that possible?


    ¡¾There.¡¿Margaret wipes the sweat of her brow.¡¾That was the last one. These sure are annoying.¡¿


    Just as she says that, abruptly one of the graspers emerges from the ground beneath her and grabs her leg.


    ¡¾Eeek!¡¿She screams in shock at it seemingly tries to feel up her thigh and get under her clothes.


    ¡¾Thorn shackles!¡¿I quickly execute a powerful spell to stop the enemy from harassing her. My vines shoot up from the ground and pull the monster away from her leg, constricting it.¡¾Mar-! Use holy lance!¡¿I yell.


    She does so and immediately kills the thing.


    -


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡¾They''re weak against magic.¡¿I explain.¡¾But strong against normal attacks. Because they''re elementals. That''s why you were having trouble.¡¿


    ¡¾Thanks Laurus. I promise I''ll do better in the future.¡¿She sounds apologetic.


    ¡¾Not at all, you did great!¡¿I try to put her at ease.


    ¡¾How did you do that spell? Don''t tell me you''re proficient in earth magic too?¡¿


    ¡¾That''s right. Both fire and earth magic, I''ve been taught by the elves after all.¡¿


    ¡¾woooow¡¿


    It feels nice to be complimented. Most people that have studied magic only know one school, but I know two, which makes me special.


    ¡¾But still... that has to take up a lot of mana, doesn''t it?¡¿


    ¡¾Well... I was born with a bigger mana pool than most. But mostly, I didn''t like seeing you get hurt like that.¡¿


    ¡¾Laurus...¡¿Margaret looks in my eyes, I look at hers. We''re so close to each other.


    ¡¾B-but anyway!¡¿I stammer, quickly changing the topic. ¡¾Those orcs! They''re zigzagging all over the place! Just what are they doing?¡¿


    ¡¾Y-yeah.¡¿She says.¡¾But I think we''re catching up to them soon. Lady! Lady come down.¡¿She whistles at her mount, who is circling above her in the sky. ¡¾It''s safe now.¡¿


    I musn''t think such impure thoughts about Margaret, I''m sure she just sees me as a reliable traveling partner and nothing more.


    <hr>


    ¡¾Alpheba. Alpheba wake up.¡¿


    I poke her pudgy little cheek and she quickly cover herself in her traveling blanket.


    I start shaking her.¡¾Come on little witch apprentice! The sun has come up! Let''s get back on the road!¡¿


    I fill up my coffee percolator with river water.¡¾We still have a few days travel ahead of us, you know.¡¿I add.¡¾Maybe we should have brought a horse after all.¡¿


    Behind me I hear Alpheba''s blanket being thrown off.¡¾Absolutely not! The feybloom is fragile you know! You can''t move it on horseback!¡¿


    ¡¾I see you''re awake!¡¿I move on to add coffee to the filter.


    She sighs and gets up to stretch, which allows me to take a little peek at the skin between the pants and shirt of her cutesy pajama.


    ¡¾Maybe if we had a pegasus.¡¿Alpheba ponders, while trying to touch her toes.¡¾Do you think we''ll see Margaret again? I mean everybody walks by the same river to get in and out the forest, right?¡¿


    ¡¾I don''t think so.¡¿I heat up my percolator with fire magic.¡¾It''s been months since we last saw her. She has probably found her friend by now. And if she is traveling here she''d probably fly right over our heads.¡¿


    ¡¾Yeah...¡¿Alpheba seems a bit disappointed.


    Her mentioning Margaret reminds me of Laurus again. I hope she told him about me. I really want to unite all heroes together and find out how we got into this game world.


    As I think about all this my coffee is done and I almost pour it all over myself. I quickly retrieve two mugs for me and


    Alpheba to properly wake up.


    -


    ¡¾Fuwaah!¡¿


    Alpheba is at her cutest when really enjoying something.


    ¡¾I''m glad we''re out of the Witchwood.¡¿She says. But then she quickly adds.¡¾Don''t tell my master that!¡¿


    I laugh.¡¾He''d understand. There''s lots of interesting magic there. But it''s nice when you don''t have to worry about monster suddenly appearing and attacking you.¡¿


    As I say that I hear the heavy breathing of an abhuman creature. Right around the corner six goblins and about thirty heavily armored orcs appear.


    <hr>


    In bits and pieces Scratch was regaining his clearness of mind.


    The blow had knocked him out and most likely concussed him, but he was awake now and trying to process his surroundings.


    It was day now, and the cave had to be overrun by the rest of the so-called ''bandits''. They had no way of knowing the creatures they were running from had now been redirected.


    Orcs... it didn''t make sense to him. Just when he thought he had pinned this world as some sort of derivative high fantasy theme park it gave him these pig beasts. No work ripping off Tolkien ever differentiated between orcs and goblins to such a degree.


    "Oh, nerd culture. What the fuck.." he murmured to himself, greatly confusing his brothers, who where holding him up.


    -


    Would they be able to keep this up? It would be at least a day before they''d reach the human run farm, who knows before they stumbled upon a city?


    What if the orcs started to recognize the territory they were marching into?


    Needless to say, the plan was full of holes. But it was the only one they had.


    -


    Just as Scratch was despairing at the hopelessness of their situation the group came across two campers by the side of the road.


    They were a peculiar duo, neither of them seemed of age, but one was clearly younger than the other. The older teenager had intense red hair and was wearing the lower half of a protective padding outfit, possibly used in battle.


    The younger one had dyed green hair and was wearing nothing more than a patterned pajama suit. They were simply sitting on some rocks and holding mugs, talking to each other before they noticed the cadre of monsters approaching them.


    Unexpectedly the redhead immediately performed an impressive acrobatic manoeuvre, with a high jump and a back flip she landed several meters behind her where she grabbed an ornate looking ¨¦p¨¦e from between her luggage. The younger one flicked her wrist and a long staff of wood appeared in her hand, which she held out threateningly.


    "Orcs!" The younger one exclaimed.


    For some reason Scratch was surprised to hear his own language from a non-goblin again. Even though it hadn''t been that long ago that he had spoken with the bandits.


    <hr>


    Kubar was annoyed at the appearance of two hostile humanoids.


    He wanted to find the core quickly and it felt like their guides were leading them on a wild goose chase.


    He glanced over at Grat, who hadn''t shown any of his usual paranoia at the coincidence, didn''t he suspect the humanoids of banding together to ambush them? Probably not, Kubar suspected Grat would say something to the effect of "different kinds of humanoids don''t work together! UGH!". Kubar did listen to what his subordinate had to say, even if the little guy was beyond annoying.


    "Just. Kill them." He grunted.


    Two warriors of his tribe stepped forward to hack the thin monkeys down, but they were surprised by both enemies projecting different magical projectile from their bodies. One of flame, one of a thick poisonous sludge.


    "What!?" At impact they exploded into clouds of harmful substance, singeing Kubar''s whiskers and heavily wounding the lunging orc warriors.


    The goblins that were standing between them had been hurt by the flame also, but didn''t wear any clothing that could catch fire, so they came away with just a few burns on their bodies. They shrieked in pain and ran backwards.


    Keeping them to lead them to the core was a high priority, but staying alive was higher. And for that the magic users needed to be killed before they could cast again.


    "Chaarge!" Kubar screamed, his voice more panicky and desperate than other times they had fought for their lives.


    The whole group sprinted forwards as one, like a stampede of wild animals.


    <hr>


    "Do you hear that?"


    Now that Laurus had mentioned it Margaret heard it too, the distant sound of orcs screaming.


    "A battle!" She said.


    They had been trodding their pegasi leisurely down the river, where the orc tracks led. But now Laurus gave his pegasus, shadow, the spurs and flew forwards.


    Margaret did the same and followed him.


    -


    Within seconds they had reached the source of the commotion.


    The orcs were attacking a duo of unsuspecting adventurers.


    And they were... What are the odds! Margaret slapped her forehead. My rival!


    It was the girl of Laurus'' own age that had been so eager to meet him. She had acted like she would help her, but silently had sworn to keep them apart. And now they were fighting the same foe!


    "Laurus, this is-" She began to quickly fulfill her promise before a conversation could start. But Laurus dove down to attack the beastmen.


    It was necessary. The adventurers looked capable, but the orcs had a great superiority in numbers.


    Beatrice- Right, that was her name. -was keeping them at a distance with fireblade magic, while her witch friend was behind her, throwing various poison balls and thorn arrows into the crowd using her staff.


    One particular orc, the largest one, was about to overwhelm Beatrice''s stance with his large body and battleaxe, turning the tide of battle. But with him so pre-occupied on getting the better of the swordswoman he was unable to see Laurus'' attack coming from above.


    -


    "Decapitation!"


    Laurus was fond of calling out his attacks.


    With a graceful arc the orc''s head flew through the air, landing into the river clay.


    The entire orc troupe was stunned by the eradication of their leader.


    "Take some time to equip the rest of your gear." Laurus said suavely to the two ladies. "I think we can keep them busy for a while."


    That was Margaret''s cue to stop admiring Laurus'' battle prowess and come into action herself, which she did by dropping herself from her mount and landing right in the middle of the orc horde, immediately killing the ones closes to her with a light aura spell.


    <hr>


    As I swoop in on shadow I kill the orc standing between me and the pretty girl. ¡¾Decapitation!¡¿


    ¡¾Take some time to equip the rest of your gear.¡¿I mumble awkwardly.¡¾I think we can keep them busy for a while.¡¿


    After I say that Margaret, my paladin travel companion, lands right in the horde and starts decimating it with powerful light spells from her blade.


    The orcs'' formation has been completely broken. They want to get away from the magic, so they rush in various directions. I mostly defend the two other girls, who are not dressed yet, by engaging the orcs that flee towards them.


    Each of them has a different weapon, so I keep switching up styles parrying and dodging them.


    Eventually the horde backs away from me too, and as a group they start to flee into the woods.


    Luckily the witch girl summons a mass of thorns to restrict them, and me and the two others proceed to slice their throats.


    -


    ¡¾That was some fight.¡¿Margaret panted.


    I have to agree. Orcs are fun to kill because there''s no real gimmick to them. They don''t cast magic, but they are strong, so it''s just a matter of being better with a weapon than them.


    ¡¾Laurus, did I tell you about these two adventurers before?¡¿Margaret mentions.


    As I gain back my breath I see two orcs prying an orc head out of the clay and trying to drag it off, I ready my sword to kill them.


    ¡¾These are Beatrice Dichtershire and Alpheba.¡¿


    ¡¾Nice to meet you.¡¿


    ¡¾Nice to meet you t-.¡¿I respond automatically.


    I pause.


    That was Japanese. That was Japanese wasn''t it!


    <hr>


    "By the skin of our teeth!" Scratch exclaimed, swaying from side to side now that Teeth and Second were busy carrying the orc head. "It''s enough to make you believe in god." Suddenly he went from ecstatic to morose. "An evil god..."


    Biter steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. "What do we do with Scratch?"


    "He''s... confused." Second concluded. "He just needs some rest."


    "Confused... listen to this guy... confused." Scratch chuckled. "Nah mate. Brain damage. I''m always dieing, ain''t I? Every time."


    "It''s the humans fault." Teeth grunted. "Yeller, First, Scratch."


    "Teeth..." Scratch righted himself, he was in one of his peaks of lucidity. "You do remember your promise towards me, don''t you?"


    Teeth decided to focus on carrying the head.


    -


    "Where is Runt?" Kicker asked.


    "Behind us." Biter answered. "We forced him to come this far. He can decide if he wants to follow us after all."


    "He can decide?" Scratch began. "I don''t remember giving aaannnyyybody permission to immigrate into our community."


    "Scratch." Second said curtly. "Shut up."


    <hr>


    "We''ve come to get Patrick back." The speaker was one of the bandit warriors, she wasn''t with their leader, but Huckabee, one of the initial scouts, was there with her.


    "Patrick is fine." Dumb lied. "But he stays inside. He''s leverage."


    "He''s what."


    "Leverage."


    "What''s that mean?"


    Dumb paused. He had simply copied the term from Scratch.


    "He''s a hostage."


    The woman unsheathed her sword.


    "Beth." Said Huckabee. "Please, don''t do this."


    "What are you talking about? They''re goblins. What would you do if I was captured by goblins?"


    Huckabee bit his lip.


    "The sun''s going down, the orcs are probably on the move again, and we''re negotiating with goblins?" Beth pointed her sword at Dumb. "Where is Clyde Beatty!?"


    "C-Clyde is coming... any second now." Dumb stood his ground repeating the same lie all of them had been repeating over the past day.


    "This whole thing is a sham! Do you expect me to play along with-"


    "With what Beth?" Lydia Harkness, the bandit leader, had arrived. Even here she found ways to pass unseen to others and appear suddenly in their vicinity. "If you take issue with my policy, I expect you to address it with me privately, not go out to break it on your own."


    "Boss!" Both bandits responded in shock and embarrassment.


    "I... he... We need Patrick for the last stand." Beth said petulantly.


    Lydia started to chuckle.


    "W-what''s so funny?"


    "Nothing is funny. I am relieved. You see, only a few minutes ago I would have agreed with you and wiped out our hosts."


    Dumb audibly swallowed.


    "But see here, we have been saved." She held up a larger than average orc head, now drained of blood, that had been chopped off in a single clean strike.


    <hr>


    "Did your master not see fit to heal you?" The bandit called Stanford asked as he projected a soothing light over


    Scratch''s skull, which numbed his pain and brought back his senses. The others had gotten minor burn damage and had been quickly healed, but Scratch''s trauma was more severe.


    "Mr. Beatty... is more interested in avenging harm than in undoing it." Scratch ended up saying. It was a way to explain the lack of care they received from the imaginary Clyde Beatty that did not take away the threat he posed for the bandits if they betrayed the goblins.


    "Is he near here?" Stanford asked.


    "He''s... around. He said he didn''t want to meet you."


    "But-"


    "I don''t know anymore. Thank you for curing my brain damage. Bye."


    Scratch was about to jump off the rock, but Stanford stopped him.


    "Let me take a look at your eye."


    "Can you restore it?"


    "Maybe, can you take the bandage off?"


    Scratch pulled the piece of cloth from his head, it stuck to him with dried blood and was painful to remove, he did it in small tugs.


    Stanford looked at it closely and fired off little ticks of light, which cause the wound to itch a bit.


    "It looks like most of the tissue is gone, I can''t bring it back, but I can heal the open wound."


    "Anything you can do is good, doctor."


    It was a strange way to address him and Stanford was confused, but he applied his healing magic and turned Scratch''s empty eyesocket into a clean pocket, his green skin covering the entire inside.


    Scratch couldn''t see what it looked like, but when he felt his face it was like his eye had been surgically removed years ago and the remaining opening had long since healed.


    "How did you get such a wound?"


    "How does anybody?"


    "..."


    "Anyway, thanks for the help doc. I''ll see what I can do to get you people packing and back to your home as soon as possible. We''ll release your friend of course."


    Quiet tucked at his arm and whispered into his ear.


    "Oh." Said Scratch. "Patrick might need some healing too. He... slipped and fell."


    <hr>


    It took a while for the bandits to get ready to return.


    In their compromised position they had been forced to eat some of the animals they had rode in on. In the grand scheme of things this was the least of their losses, but it did hinder their immediate return. Their original camp wasn''t that far off on foot, but the hotsprings they had fled to was days away.


    The way the move was organized was that half the warriors would escort half the population there, who would transport the various surviving animals, furniture, supplies and tents back to the original location, where they had left a number of non-essential property and some buildings.


    The other half would leave later, and reunite with them in the original camp, to start again, as best as they could.


    -


    This meant that Huckabee, Dee and Patrick were staying the night in front of the cave.


    As payment for their hospitality the goblins were given an abundance of left over horse meat, which Quiet turned into a more than decent meatloaf-like dish with some breadcrums and egg.


    In the spirit of inter-species diplomacy they were all eating it around the fire, nine goblins and sixteen humans, almost double their number.


    There weren''t enough plates and forks for everyone, luckily a number of the adults didn''t mind eating their from a sheet of shale rock.


    -


    Conversation between the two species was minimal, despite speaking the same language they spoke only amongst themselves.


    That is, except for a very young human girl that went around asking the goblins'' names.


    -


    "What''s your name?"


    "Kicker"


    "Why?"


    "Because of my kicking."


    "Okay."


    -


    "What''s your name?"


    "Biter"


    "Why?"


    "Because I bite. Rah-rang" He clacked his teeth together.


    "Okay."


    -


    "What''s your name?"


    "...Quiet"


    "Oh! Because you''re so quiet?"


    "hhmnn... yes."


    "Okay."


    -


    "What''s your name?"


    "Tell me your name first." Said Dumb.


    "I''m Cobaline."


    "Oh." It didn''t seem like a meaningful name as they had. "My name is Cobaline too." Dumb said.


    Laugh almost spit out his water. "His name is dumb!" He sputtered.


    Cobaline started laughing.


    -


    Eventually she started asking where First was.


    Dumb looked away.


    Teeth growled at her.


    "Oh, he died." Said Scratch in-between bites. He was famished.


    "Huh?"


    "Yeah. You know. Goblins. Fodder."


    Cobaline looked like she was about to cry when Second walked up to her to stop it.


    "You haven''t asked my name. I''m Second."


    He had totally distracted her. "Ah! Because you were born second?"


    "No. I was born seventh, actually." He showed as many fingers as goblins had been born before him plus himself.


    Cobaline seemed confused, but her mother called for her, probably concerned to have her daughter near the rape monsters.


    <hr>


    When night fell it fell on Teeth to keep the first watch.


    Rather, he had insisted on taking the first watch.


    A light drizzle had started and the humans had taken refuge in the various builder tents to shelter them from the rain. Only their guards remained in the middle square, right in front of the goblins'' own guard Teeth.


    He was clutching the orc crossbow. When the human called Huckabee got up in the night to relieve his bladder Teeth followed him, with the intent to kill him.


    <hr>


    Coins


    Coins are made up out of gold, silver or copper. Every countship mints its own coins, but all maintain the same standards of weight. This is a carefully chosen index that makes sure every gold coin always contains the exact amount of gold to give it the same worth as ten silver coins and a silver coin contains the exact value of ten copper coins in silver. This is why the coins decrease in size up the echelons of value.


    The universal standard for coin value was introduced by the Adventurers'' Guild, which needed a standardized way to show quest rewards. Because of the widespread reliance on the Adventurers'' Guild in every country for safety it was able to unify the money in the entire overworld, this greatly benefitted commerce.


    This shows the tremendous benefit our organization has to society, even beyond the slaying of monsters.

 Cyclophan

    "We received a message from the bandits." Mabel confided to her sister.


    Her sister Barbara had been a prisoner to goblins for months in the self-same forest the bandits had set up their camp, but she had been presumed dead and had had to escape by herself.


    "Apparently the orc situation has gone tits-up."


    "Fuck." Barbara kicked a street dog into the canal, it yelped painfully but the sound was drowned out by the splash.


    "So we''re gonna have ta restructure the entire smuggling ring, don''t we?"


    "Yes, WE will." Mabel, who was of a higher rank within the organization, commented.


    "Well... maybe it won'' be so bad for us." Barbara pondered aloud.


    "What makes you say that?"


    "With the smuggling in hot water someone''s gonna need to step up and find anotha scam to replace it, innit?"


    "Ah. I see. You want us to drag power towards ourselves when the place is in chaos. Y''know Barb, we won''t be the only ones trying to do something like that."


    "No." Barbara tapped the side of her head. "But we''ll be the smartest ones."


    Mabel chuckled. "Do you have any plan at all?"


    "With no more bandits and the duke''s troops coming here to slay monsters we can''t move smuggled goods around anymore, right?"


    "Right."


    "We''ve got a lot of fingers pie with smuggling, all those people will be out of a job. Probably enough to start a security play again."


    "A protection racket? Barbara, we haven''t done anything bigger than pickpocketing in decades."


    "A bigger job, a bigger haul, Mabel. Don''t tell me you don''t want to rule this town. When the first official reports of orc activity come in we should already be making our play, before the others think of it."


    It did sound attractive. Mabel was already halfway convinced that this change could mean a big opportunity for their family.


    <hr>


    "-so I thought you guys must have been captured too." Patrick told the two other warriors present over the smoldering fire.


    Dee had wrapped herself in blankets completely, she looked like giant cocoon with a human face poking out. "Really, by goblins? Are you stupid?"


    Patrick sputtered. "H-hey, we didn''t know how many there were."


    "It doesn''t matter how many there were." Dee said. "Harkness is a former knight, a hundred goblins couldn''t touch her."


    "That doesn''t matter right now." Patrick looked around him, but it was too dark to really make out anything. "Did you know there''s gold in the cave?" He whispered.


    "Gold?" Said Huckabee. "That must be why Beatty keeps these goblins here, to mine it for him."


    "You think so?"


    "Do you see any other explanation?"


    "I guess so. Who is this Beatty character anyway?"


    Dee started talking with her eyes closed. "Nobody knows, not even the boss. She says there''s no Beatty family in Reddington."


    "So he''s an exile from another country." Huckabee commented.


    "Either that, or it''s not his real name." Dee continued. "Anyways, the goblins let you go because they thought Beatty showing off his power was enough to keep us from harming them or stealing their stuff."


    "Aha..." It seemed like Huckabee had gotten some insight from the explanation, but then he said. "I''ve got to take a leak." And stood up.


    -


    He stepped into the darkness. The forest around him was completely silent, no rustling leaves, no animals stirring, not even crickets.


    This place gives me the creeps. He thought to himself as he lowered his pants to empty his bladder. Let''s get this over with.


    During his years as a bandit he had gotten used to not having any plumbing to speak off, but the goblins didn''t even have waste buckets for defecation, it really was like camping in the woods during a trip. The forest around him was probably littered with frozen goblin turds, piled up over the months. That was going to attract a lot of slimes when temperatures were going to rise again. But goblins probably couldn''t afford to think ahead that far.


    The stream of urine made a consistent clattering sound on the crispy forest leaves, he had gone so long without relieving himself, the piss just didn''t seem to stop.


    "Hold it right there."


    The voice of a goblin came out of nowhere in the darkness around him.


    Huckabee tried to cut himself off midstream.


    "Don''t stand in my way." Another goblin said.


    The strain on Huckabee''s urinary tract trying to keep in a stream that he had already begun releasing was too much. "I can''t hold it much longer." He said apologetically to whoever was threatening him.


    "Not you, you idiot." The voice said. "I''m talking to the idiot with the weapon."


    <hr>


    Teeth was seeing red when he approached the back of his target.


    He had seen that face at the death of two of his brothers, he was the enemy, the greater power than struck them down. But now Teeth had power too. The intricate weapon of the pig creatures. He no longer needed to fear that specter of death, he would slay his nightmare right there.


    "Hold it right there."


    It was Scratch, he had suspected Teeth breaking his promise and had followed him.


    "Don''t stand in my way." Teeth growled. As long as Scratch wouldn''t proceed to stand in front of the enemy he could take a shot.


    "I can''t hold it in much longer." The human whined.


    "Not you, you idiot." Scratch berated. "I''m talking to the idiot with the weapon. Teeth, what the hell do you think you''re doing?"


    "He killed Yeller." Teeth said, his voice cracking. "He killed First. It''s his fault."


    "Teeth..." Second was also there.


    "He has to die." Teeth said, tears in his eyes obscuring his vision. "He has to. It wouldn''t be... it wouldn''t be fair if he lived."


    "FAIR!?" Scratch slapped the back of his head while wrestling the weapon away from him together with Second. "Who taught you that word? Because I sure didn''t."


    The truth was that Scratch had used the word "fair" in conversation before, both seriously and ironically. He had spoken of people''s "fair" share of work, "to be fair" in giving someone the credit they deserved, and insisting the boys would "play fair" when they were playing their games. All of these implied the existence deserved or undeserved treatment. Even if Scratch adamantly denied believing such a thing even existed.


    "I have told you too many times already, no revenge killing. Are you incapable of following orders, or do you just not care?"


    Teeth was still crying, it affected his voice. "He can''t live. He can''t! Not if they''re dead!"


    "You can''t bring them back Teeth. Not with this." Second said, trying to be empathetic.


    Teeth punched him, throwing him to the ground with a yelp.


    "I see." Scratch sighed. "I can''t control you, can I?"


    Teeth''s fists were still balled up, he spoke with his teeth clenched. "No. I have to do this."


    "Okay." Scratch spread out his arms. "I''ll give up telling you what to do, come here."


    They closed in for a hug.


    Then Teeth''s face went pale.


    Knowing the fold and cut of Teeth''s animal skin shirt, Scratch had closed the distance between them and plunged the ruler''s dagger between a seam at the armpit, hitting a major artery.


    Teeth fell back in Scratch''s arms, looking his brother in the eye, full of shock. His strength failed him.


    "You know what the tragic thing is, Teeth? I didn''t ask you to do what''s best for me, I didn''t even ask you to do what''s best for the group, I wanted you to do what was best for you. And you just... couldn''t."


    As Teeth died Scratch layed him down gently on the ground.


    Second had his mouth covered in horror. "Teeth for Huckabee..." He referred to it as a trade. "... why?"


    "Only now do I realize I haven''t been raising you kids correctly. I haven''t transferred my values to you, and this is the result." Scratch put his hand over Teeth''s eyes, ignoring the smell of a fresh corpse excreting waste. "I have failed as a guardian, and I won''t make the same mistake again."


    It was clear to Second that Scratch had considered Teeth a failed creation and had torn him down like an incorrect start to a house. For the first time, Scratch seemed dangerous.


    <hr>


    Huckabee had heard it all, including the fatal stabbing, while being unable to stop urinating.


    Only after the exchange was over did his bladder finally empty, he shook his member a bit to get list of the last drops and then pulled up his pants.


    He turned around, it was still too dark to see. "Scratch? Goblin boss?"


    "Yeah, we''re here."


    "I''m sorry." Huckabee tried.


    "I''m sorry too. I can assure you it won''t happen again."


    The goblin had had to kill his own brother to avoid war with the bandit troupe. Even if Harkness would have understood the boy had acted alone, Dee and Patrick, the ones who were near right now, wouldn''t have been so understanding of Huckabee''s death and would have wiped the lot out, Beatty or no Beatty.


    This death, too, Huckabee realized, is my fault.


    He reached into his pocket for the card, realizing now that he should have brought it up earlier, if only he hadn''t been so damn cowardly about the whole affair. "Can you come with me to the campfire?" He said. "I want to show you something."


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    -


    When they were back Dee had fallen asleep and Patrick was half asleep too. They had neglected to set up a schedule for guard duty so the last one to fall asleep was the loser that stayed up all night. It seemed like that was going to be Huckabee.


    He poked the embers with a branch and blew on the fire. He got some sparks and a little light, enough to see the outline of the goblin''s face.


    Scratch had gone back to wearing an eye patch over his missing eye, for aesthetic reasons. The goblin with him, with the big eyes, Huckabee thought was named Second. (Born seventh?) He had been nice to Cobaline, the little girl.


    "Here." Huckabee handed Scratch the card he had found at Yeller''s body.


    The goblin accepted it with some trepidation. He looked at the image, of the goblin brothers standing around the mangled corpse in grief, with a look of confusion on his face.


    "It says ''roadside burial''." Huckabee explained.


    "What... is it?" Second looked at it from over Scratch''s shoulder.


    "It''s a world memory." Huckabee explained, he tried to sound solemn and not let his surprise as the the goblins'' ignorance shine through. "The world shows its memory in the form of these cards, they show events that happened or things that used to exist. There is a game that can be played with them, but they''re often kept as keepsakes. A reminder of someone lost."


    "And every event only creates one card?" Scratch said.


    "Not every event." Huckabee responded. "Only special events, something that changes people, or the world."


    "I was at this funeral. I didn''t see any card appearing."


    "No. It usually takes about a week or two for a world memory to materialize. You... do believe me, don''t you?"


    Scratch looked from him to Second and back again. "I don''t see why you''d lie. Thank you for giving me this, Huckabee."


    "No trouble." Huckabee sighed in relief. "I know you wouldn''t want someone else to get their hands on memories about you."


    Scratch gave a humorless chuckle. "I suppose that''s an easy way for secrets to get out."


    "No kidding! They say every noble family has a box of shame where all their scandals are hidden."


    Scratch paused. "Couldn''t they just burn them?"


    "Oh no! World memories are indestructible in all ways, you can''t get rid of them."


    Scratch looked at the card again.


    "Scratch... we should go back inside." Second said.


    "I suppose you''re right. Say goodnight to Huckabee."


    "G''night Huckabee." Second mumbled and they both left him alone with his thoughts.


    <hr>


    "Wake everybody up." Scratch told Second. "We''re having a meeting in the dining room."


    When one person was shaken awake they would proceed to make noise or touch others, quickly waking up the whole cadre.


    -


    Most of them were still half asleep when Scratch had them sit down around the table, but Second and the prisoners were wide-eyed and attentive.


    "Just now," Scratch started "Teeth challenged my leadership, and I killed him."


    "No." Quiet whispered.


    "I''m afraid it''s the truth. We liked Teeth, or at least I did, but he had been growing apart from us. This had to happen eventually."


    "Why kill him?" Second had been there but he was angry at the decision and challenged Scratch right in front of everyone.


    "Teeth was determined to break a hard-fought peace. I needed to stop him to ensure our survival."


    "But-"


    "I won''t discuss it any more. The issue is awkward enough as it is. Tomorrow, I want two of you to go out and bury his body where we don''t have to look at it, alright?"


    The group murmured in resignation.


    "Good. Then it''s now time to go back to bed."


    The kids stumbled towards their blankets again, they''d realize the full implication of losing their brother in the morning.


    "Oh." Scratch remembered something. "Starting tomorrow, I''m going to teach a class on emotions after exercise." He looked straight at Second. "Some of you have been developing rather a lot of them."


    "Who will stand guard?" Dumb asked.


    "I will." Second answered, returning Scratch''s gaze with equal intensity.


    <hr>


    It didn''t give Scratch pleasure playing the strict parent. He was pretty sure most parents were able to raise perfectly functional children without killing any of them. Although his own father hadn''t been like that, neither Drool, nor the father he had had as a human.


    Just doing the best with the tools given to me. He thought, referring to his upbringing, while rolling over on his blanket.


    Death was such a peculiar thing. So final. You can''t take back a murder.


    Scratch was determined to not let it bother him. So you killed a sibling, you''ve killed siblings before. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.


    -


    So you finally fell asleep.


    "Oh lord, what fresh hell is this."


    It is me, Scratch. Your saviour, your host, your god.


    Before him was an ocean of pitch black water, from it rose a serpent the size of a building, the water steamed off him as if superheated by a white hot surface.


    "S-satan? Wait, this is a dream, isn''t it?"


    I have come to you in your dream to speak to you. The form you see before you is your own mind''s interpretation of my might.


    Scratch thought for a second. "So everything I see is thought up by me. I don''t suppose that means I can just change it."


    Well... I suppose. Since you''re now lucid you c- I shouldn''t have told you that. With those last words the monstrous reptile shrunk down to the size of a cricket before his feet. Very funny.


    Scratch shrugged and stomped on the creature. But in the contradictory fashion that is only possible in the world of dreams the monster was both stomped on and completely untouched.


    Enough tomfoolery, I have not visited you today to play around with the fabric of dreams. I have come to make a deal.


    Scratch sighed. "That''s rather ominous, since the world memory explicitly called you an evil god. I don''t think I can trust you, Satan."


    The being vibrated in anger. The world memory!? That accursed log of lies? What does it say? It says I guided you, did it not? I saved your friends from fellow kind. Does that not show I can be trusted? And my name is NOT Satan. It''s Cyclophan, god of Guile and Trickery.


    "Yeah, okay." Scratch relented, but then immediately changed his mind. "No wait, there''s nothing trustworthy about any of that!"


    The tiny snake''s form slumped over in defeat. Ugh, why does this have to be so hard? Monsters are supposed to be excited to get an evil god as patron.


    "Wait a minute." Scratch sat down next to him. "How many evil gods are there?"


    Oh. There''s tons. Just today a rival god tried to find my core and take it over. That''s what those orcs were here for, they served the evil god Manshuu, god of Bloodshed. Since you got rid of it, I decided to stop holding out for someone stronger and make you my champion.


    Scratch had created a cigarette in his dream, but wasn''t able to get the nicotine feeling from an imaginary object. "You were holding out for someone better, were you? That explains the guidance, you were trying to get me killed and replace me with one of those orange guys." He exhaled the imaginary smoke while talking.


    Argh! The snake rolled over the floor in self-pity. You hate me. How will I ever start a dungeon without a champion?


    "Hate you? Please, I''m older than I look you know. I''m not resenting you for doing what''s best for you, I just don''t see any benefit to myself entering in a deal with you."


    Ah?! The snake perked up. But that''s the part I haven''t told you about, there''s actually lots of benefits to serving an evil god.


    "Well?" Scratch flicked away the cigarette. "Sell me on it."


    Okay. So, first of all, a champion becomes very skilled very quickly. Champions of gods will can learn things that have to do with their aspect very easily. That''s why all warriors and mages that have gone down in history were champions of gods.


    Really? Any of them yours?


    N-no. But still, you could be like them.


    "Like them, huh? I become skilled in, what? Tricking people?"


    Sleight of hand, actually.


    Scratch looked at him like he was crazy. "Sleight of hand? You want me to sell my soul for stage magic?"


    No. Just... do you have any wishes? Desires? You have to right?


    "Now it''s getting interesting. Sure, I have a couple of gripes. First of all, there''s a yearly event coming up where humans kill goblins en masse, heard of it?"


    I know of it, yes.


    "I would like to stop it."


    Cyclophan was silent. Do you have any other wishes?


    "Right, so I didn''t want society to keep killing us. I want a decent home to live in..." He thought back to the list he had made of the four curses imposed on him by the goddess. "I want to know more about this world and its rules and... I want to be stronger, to evolve."


    Oh, yes! Cyclophan seemed pleased. Evil gods have made their champions evolve in the past.


    "How does that work?"


    I can make creatures evolve to a stronger version of their family of monsters.


    "Can you turn me into a human?"


    An example of a monster in your family would be hobgoblins, like the ones you had to fight off when you made fire.


    "But not humans."


    Humans... there are goblinoid monsters that can disguise themselves as human.


    "So you can evolve me to one of those?"


    Do you doubt my power?


    "You haven''t shown me much power yet."


    That''s true, that''s why I need you to keep up your end of the deal.


    "You do?"


    Yes. I do. Currently I am inhabiting a wyrm shard, also known as a dungeon core. You''ll find it if you restore the tunnel I dug. I need to have a continuous path of open space between me and the skies to accumulate power, that''s what will allow me to exact my miraculous powers.


    "So... we complete the mineshaft and that''s it? That''s my end of the deal completed?"


    No! Definitely not. With a path opened up anybody can stroll in and reach my core. I need a dungeon of monsters to defend me. That''s why I kept digging down, to increase the length of the path towards me, unfortunately it backfired and the thing collapsed. Cyclophan seemed absolutely exhausted just recounting the story.


    "So you grant me power and in exchange I use it to protect you."


    That is exactly right.


    "As good as that deal sounds, Cyclophan, I don''t think we''re up to the task. I mean there''s only eleven... ten of us. Ten goblins, that''s not much of a security detail."


    Goblins breed quickly. Scratch, I know you can give me a dungeon. I''ve dug through some veins of precious and useful metals, they''re yours, use them as you see fit.


    "Well... I suppose... if you were to dedicate yourself as I do to helping the goblin community grow and thrive..."


    Cyclophan groaned. Very well. Power. Wealth. And my aid in building your home. Is that good enough for you?


    With that Scratch gave Cyclophan the form of a man of equal height to himself, in order to shake his hand.


    I don''t suppose all of that is worth signing your soul to me, so I can be assured of your loyalty, is it?


    "Why would I do that? When the current deal works for both of us."


    Cyclophan''s featureless form sighed. I knew it.


    <hr>


    Scratch seemed be having a particularly good dream, he had a smug and satisfied expression on his face while sleeping.


    Second refused to look at him. In the span of a single day a brother he had thought dead had returned, and then immediately died, another brother had died and it was yet another brother that had done it.


    Staying up during the night wile the others were sleeping gave him some time to process it all.


    What do I want? What can I expect? It was a more complicated question than he had thought it''d be. When he was still young his favorite playmate had been killed by a rival tribe. In the span of his following life the time they had spent together seemed short now, but the event still changed him. He was always the most scared to lose people, yet the least prepared when it happened.


    Am I defective?


    Other tribes dealt with death every day, they needed women in order to replenish their numbers. But the cave goblins, they were the goblins that didn''t die, they had taken pride in that... Was that even really true? So many had died already. It wasn''t reasonable to expect life continuing so peacefully anymore. Especially with the human attack that the prisoners predicted coming any day now.


    -


    There were no good and happy thoughts in Second''s mind that evening, while he was keeping an eye out for intruders.


    Eventually Quiet came to join him.


    "Hi?" Second said, surprised.


    Quiet gave a soft, inaudible reply.


    They sat in front of the entrance, silently.


    -


    Eventually Quiet did say something. "Before you were born..."


    It reminded Second that Quiet was older than him, he had memory of Quiet making sure they survived when they were infants, but later the brother faded into the background, just one of the group.


    "...before you were born, the youngest was Runt. Drool killed him."


    "Just like Scratch now."


    "No... not like Scratch. Drool... Drool was afraid."


    Second raised an eyebrow, but Quiet continued.


    "Drool was afraid of everything. Of fire, of animals, of his own children. He killed Runt to prove he was strong, so we would be afraid of him."


    Second stared into the sky, intentionally avoiding eye contact with Quiet. "Drool sure was awful, wasn''t he?"


    "Second..." Quiet touched his shoulder. "...Drool was a goblin. That''s what goblins do."


    Second shook off his hand. "So what? Why are you telling me this?"


    Quiet was taken aback. He went silent again. "...I don''t know... you were there..."


    Second looked at him now, in anticipation.


    "You saw Scratch..." Quiet had trouble saying the word. "...Kill... Teeth. Did he look afraid to you?"


    "No. I don''t think he felt afraid. Sometimes I think... he doesn''t feel anything at all."


    They didn''t speak after that.


    <hr>


    Whisk


    Whisk is a game played using world memories, it is very popular among adventurers and certain nobles. The rules are simple, both players organize a deck of exactly sixty memories, which shuffle themselves into a random order at the start of the game. Each player adds the top 5 cards to their hand and draws an additional card at the start of each turn, the first turn is by the challengee.


    The mechanics of whisk are enforced by the Whisk spell, which materializes the memories in the cards into card spirits, that can be commanded by their player. A player must practice and experiment with these cards in order to fully understand the extent of their abilities and effects, although there are many cards that are common and identical, whose effects are completely understood.


    Broadly, there are three types of world memories: Entities, Events and Locations. These memories will appear in the world when something is destroyed or changed dramatically. Adventurers are the people most suited to find memories of powerful monsters, great disasters or dungeons, as they travel the dangerous places these things appear, while nobility are more likely to obtain memories of important people, intrigue and man made structures, for a less direct play style.


    A game of whisk is won by reducing the opponent''s magic points to zero, their deck being empty, or making them surrender. While in friendly games the amount of magic points one starts with is the same (usually 12000, the amount of attack damage a single elder dragon deals with a direct attack), in competitive scenes the amount of magic points depends on the amount of money betted and in whisk areans the magic points are replaced by the actual health of the player, as magic makes the memories life size and physical.


    Rare and powerful cards can be worth a lot to collectors and professional players. That is why card hunters exist, professionals that specialize in finding and collecting rare world memories, sometimes even resorting to violence and theft to do it. Some individuals keep cards locked away in vaults, either as precious heirlooms, to avoid them being played against them, or because what is depicted on the card is something personally important to them.


    A version of the Whisk spell exists called Greater Whisk, which creates a temporary whisk arena around the caster and allows them to use their deck in real combat. Since the spell is hard to learn, its mana cost is great, and real world enemies do not respect turn order, this is not considered a viable strategy for battle.

 Monster on the Loose

    "I want you to imagine a pyramid shape in front of you, like this." Scratch had equipped the entire group with pointy objects and was instructing them on how to fight with them.


    "What''s a pyramid?" Biter asked.


    "Just. Just look at my hands. Follow what my hands are doing." Scratch was miming the four lines coming from his body and colliding into a point in front of him. "This is your pyramid, your reach. Now then, there''s slashes and stabs..."


    He proceeded to instruct them with his knowledge of knife-fighting. He wasn''t very knowledgeable about swords and bows, but street fighting he understood from his time on Earth. Daggers weren''t exactly switchblades, but they were close enough. Still, the most important piece of advice he had, that he kept repeating to his brothers, was to run away when things got dangerous. Don''t be a hero.


    They practiced through the twilight. It was routine to have these fighting classes after all chores had been completed, but even more priority was given to self defense when they were now mere weeks from the killing event. Or, as the bandits had referred to it as, the ''culling''. They had assured him they had no part in it and that is was organized by something called the ''adventurers'' guild'', which seemed to Scratch a bizarre union of a medieval cartel and a murderous scouting association.


    "We have been ousted from regular society." Lydia had explained. "Adventurers and mercenaries are free to kill us, like they are to kill you."


    It dawned on Scratch that by making peace with the bandits he was still no further to gaining the acceptance or tolerance of the governing powers of the land. That element of his burden had to wait, with help of Cyclophan, the evil god (Christ Almighty, what a title), he could get some distance into acquiring creature comforts and power. If only he could find a way to absorb some more information about the world from the bandits, without having to tell them too much about himself, he would be able to better predict and understand the coming challenges too.


    When fortune wishes to bring mighty events to a successful conclusion, she selects some man of spirit and ability who knows how to seize the opportunity she offers. He thought to himself. Macchiavelli said that. So many able men are never given opportunity, and so many opportunities are wasted by the incompetent, I have been given plenty of gifts already, I must make use of them.


    <hr>


    When the practice session was over Scratch ordered everyone to sit down in half a circle in front of him.


    "We''re doing something extra today." He told them. "Straighten your back and close your eyes."


    "Why?" Most of the goblins did as he said, but Dumb demanded and explanation first.


    "Follow my instructions, I''ll explain as we go." He waited until everyone had followed his command. "Now then, you''re all in battle mode. You''ve been fighting each other, moving about, and getting yourself hurt. So we''re going to bring the energy levels way down. No, keep your eyes closed."


    Dumb quickly closed the eye he had been peeking through.


    "Breath in very slowly, like this.." Scratch mad a very loud ''breathing in'' noise, making it last a few seconds to show how slowly they had to fill their lungs. "... and out, just as slowly, like this." This time he made a ''breathing out'' noise. Then he sat down where he stood to do the exercise with them.


    The kids had to practice a few times in order to not breath out or in immediately and then hold their breath for the rest of the time period, but instead breath at a slow, deliberate pace.


    -


    "Breath out your stress, your pain." Scratch instructed. "Breath in pure air, calmness, cleanness."


    He could see some of his brothers, like Kicker and Biter, had trouble with the abstract language, so he repeated it a few times.


    "Let all feeling flow out of your body... Anger... Happiness... Regret... These feelings are not a part of you, they come from outside, and they''ll pass over you. What remains is only you, unchanged and unaffected."


    The goblins did their best to follow the highly spiritual instructions.


    "And... open your eyes."


    With that they were back were they had sat down, the cleared area in front of the tower. Some of them looked disoriented to realize where they were again.


    -


    "Can anyone say why we did that?" Scratch asked.


    "Yes." Dumb answered. "You can."


    "Care to guess, buddy?" Scratch said bemusedly.


    "You don''t want us to have feelings." Said Second.


    "Close. Very close. Feelings are fine. Feelings are necessary. Your emotions will help you analyze the world around you and make decisions. However, only as an adviser, never as your master. This exercise is about gaining control over your emotive state, so they don''t take control of you."


    There was some nodding of understanding among the group, but Quiet looked at Scratch with an expression of faint pity, which he chose to ignore.


    -


    "What''s something that gave us a lot of feelings, but that we shouldn''t let change us?"


    "Teeth dying?" Fat said softly.


    "Teeth. That''s a very good one. Sadness does not serve any purpose we strive for, so we can discard it." Scratch breathed in and out. "Teeth made us happy when he was here, but now he is not, lingering on the past does not help us. At most, you can remind yourself to appreciate and protect the brothers your still have."


    "Oh. OH." Dumb raised his hand.


    "Dumb? You have one?"


    "Yeah. The explosion of darkness."


    "The... yes Dumb. To be honest, that one is still kind of fresh."


    -


    Behind at the other side of the tower the tendrils of immaterial miasma were still visible, swirling around like noxious fumes from a polluting factory. They had burst forth out of the opened up tunnel and driven the goblins from their home.


    <hr>


    The whole disaster had taken place only a few hours earlier:


    The sand had been propped up by handmade wooden scaffolding, properly tarred ones too, to prevent rot. The result was a tunnel into a dark yellow mass, wooden arches overhead like the ribcage of some giant beast. At certain parts the sand had fallen away to reveal the stone walls of the natural tunnel, but for the most part it was a tunnel through the sand.


    Scratch had ordered the blockage in front removed and for digging to resume. When asked about his decision he said he had to see if something he had dreamt was real. Which was a completely unsatisfying answer.


    Most of the tribe was on the surface, finishing the perimeter, but Scratch himself was eagerly digging alongside the prisoners.


    "I think we''re breaking through to the other side." He said, sticking his finger into a little hole that seemed to lead to an open space. "Help me with this."


    They dropped their shoveling implements and started breaking down the last remaining sand wall with their hands.


    -


    The mine had been very dark, but what lay beyond was completely sealed off from any light at all. Creating an ever wider hole, the goblins, whose eyes were made to see in the dark, saw a beam of faint light shine into the space, highlighting the floating particles of dust. Only a night creature would be able to see them as they darted around at that place, in a stuffy hole, deeper underneath the surface.


    "Hello?" Scratch climbed out of the sand and into the surprisingly damp cave. "Anybody there?"


    There was no answer.


    As the four climbed down into the tunnel further it became increasingly hard to see, even for them. Scratch did see the tunnel veering of to the side slightly, exposing a vein of native gold in the earth. He stroked it briefly before continuing on his path to find Cyclophan.


    -


    Eventually they stumbled upon the dungeon core. It was an organic looking shape, the main body being a dark orb into the far wall, with three spines coming out of the back and lining the wall in a triple helix shape. Its shape fitted the walls so perfectly that no mistake could be made, this is what had dug the tunnel, as a drill it had dug down in a spinning motion and carved out a worm-like hole for itself.


    "Can you speak?" Scratch approached the thing cautiously. "I''m here to-"


    The floating dust particles in the air started vibrating. Air rushed in and out of the cave, like they were the lungs of a dragon, whipping up smoke and dust and knocking the excavation party to the ground.


    From the center of the core came a substance of pure darkness that could not be seen through. It expanded outwards, enveloping parts of their bodies.


    The children all screamed and ran out of the tunnel.


    The substance followed them closely, rushing out of the mine, into the side rooms and up towards the foyer.


    When rushing out into the surface they encountered Quiet, who was carrying a plate of fish sandwiches. They dragged him with them as the explosion of darkness bust into the open behind them.


    There, in broad daylight, finally the tendrils shirked back.


    "What was that!?" Quiet screamed, raising his voice to audible levels for the first time in days.


    "It''s a long story." Said Scratch. "And I don''t know it."


    The darkness hadn''t hurt them, but they had clearly felt the danger of it. Now their entire cave was filled with it.


    <hr>


    "Look. I know how you guys feel about the otherworldly tendrils of pure darkness. I can assure you, I''m going to have a talk with those connected tonight, then we can have this thing sorted out."


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "How?"


    "I don''t know how it works, I just will."


    Scratch sighed. It was a complication to be sure. Still, I don''t think Cyclophan tricked me, he was eager to stipulate we stay around. Then again... he did say trickery was what he was the god of... If he had tobacco on hand at that moment he would have relapsed and gotten the goblin body addicted to it too.


    "Will that cure Digger too?" Laugh asked.


    "Cure Digger? Of what?"


    "Digger is made of stone now."


    "Digger is... wait, hold up, when did this happen?"


    "This morning after the darkness explosion, he wasn''t with the class because of it."


    "Show me."


    -


    The prisoners lead him to the petrified body of their friend, near the chicken coop. Digger was a goblin statue, staring in shock at something invisible.


    "I thought everybody had seen it."


    "Well, everybody but me." Scratch rubbed his temples. "Was this when we fled the cave? Did you see him turn to stone?"


    "N-no." Laugh admitted. "We just found him here."


    "So it''s possible then..." Kicker posited. "That someone carved a statue and stole away the real Digger."


    Biter elbowed him in the ribs for making jokes.


    "What happened to the chicken coop?" Fat asked.


    "Dumb, I hardly think that''s-" Scratch began, but he stopped himself. "...Yeah. what happened here?"


    The little fence had been broken open and the bird was nowhere to be seen.


    "Did the darkness do it?" Fat suggested.


    "I highly doubt it, something with mass has knocked it over. I wouldn''t be surprised if whatever destroyed the coop also petrified Digger. Not a tendril of blackness, but a creature of some sort."


    "Petrified..." Fat tasted the new word in his mouth. "Maybe he caught them trying to take the chicken?"


    "I thought so too." Said Scratch. "But the remains of the enclosure are scattered towards the outside, not the inside. Someone didn''t break in, they broke out." He kneeled down. "Experienced trackers, take a look at this."


    Kicker and Biter, who had both done more hunting than all the other current members combined, came to stand next to Scratch.


    "Bird feet?" Biter wondered.


    "Too deep." Kicker commented. "Too large."


    "A larger and heavier chicken." scoffed Scratch. "Sounds like a dream come true."


    "But one then that turns people to stone." Kicker shuddered. "Why? How?"


    "Evolution..." Scratch murmured. "Laugh, you told me about rabbits evolving, tell me, what about other animals? What about chickens?"


    Everyone turned their attention towards Laugh, who got very nervous at being put in the spotlight. "I... I don''t..."


    "It doesn''t matter." Kicker straightened his back. "We can''t go to sleep as long as it''s still around and within the perimeter."


    That''s right. Scratch thought to himself. The perimeter stops creatures from wandering in, but also from wandering out. That thing is still among us. And as long as it is, I can''t safely doze off to meet with Cyclophan.


    "Okay." He clapped his hands to get everybody''s attention. "We''re splitting up in groups of two. As soon as you see it, or someone turns to stone, give a yelp and the rest will come running. Is that understood?"


    Everybody nodded.


    "Isn''t it better to just set up a trap?" Dumb said.


    "Or... that. Let''s do both."


    <hr>


    The boys split up into groups.


    Dumb and the surviving prisoners were to construct large snares near the huts, Kicker and Biter would scout the edge of the perimeter, Fat and Quiet the inside of the huts around the square and Scratch and Second in-between that, near the tower. Not that it was a particularly large amount of surface area all together, the groups could clearly see each other when lifting their gaze, but the consensus was that the creature was not going to proudly parade itself and the search needed a close look between nooks and crannies. Searching as many places at once would decrease the chance of them missing the creature by moving around.


    -


    Scratch had intentionally grouped Second and himself together. He was having a conversation while prodding moss and grass tufts with a spear.


    "I can tell you''re disappointed with how things have been."


    Second didn''t say anything.


    "I can see our group is shrinking too. All the warriors, and now Digger too. Do you think it makes me happy? Because it doesn''t."


    "It''s just..." Second couldn''t find the proper words.


    "Yes?" Scratch insisted.


    "It''s just that I thought you would protect us. But you''re not. You''re... trading lives."


    Once more, Scratch was impressed by his brothers'' ability to use the language he had taught them the literal meaning of in such an abstract way.


    "Second." He let his gaze move from his own spear to Second''s side, who was staring at his own task with a hurt look on his face. "I can''t protect against everything. Death is a part of nature. Even if..." He thought about a good hypothetical scenario. "...all humans and orcs dropped down dead and we had more food than we could ever finish.


    We would still die eventually."


    Second looked at him questioningly for a moment.


    "Age." Scratch explained. "Your body just starts to break down after a while. It''s inevitable." Come to think about it, how long do goblins live?


    "Then what''s the point?" Second asked, his voice cracking. "If we''re all going to die anyway."


    "The point isn''t to live forever. It''s to live while you''re alive. Do you understand me?"


    "No."


    "Hhhm. How do I say this. I want... I want us not just to survive, I want to live with dignity, the way to achieve that might result in some dieing earlier, but others will live worthwhile lives."


    "What is dignity?"


    "Dignity is... put it like this: we sleep in a warm bed, eat cooked food at a table and drink clean water. We don''t crawl through the mud like animals, scavenging for our next mouthful, that gives us dignity."


    Scratch mind was transported back to the past, as a human on Earth. There he had rejected poverty at a young age as an indignity, no crime or betrayal could ever be bad enough to lower his dignity to that of someone begging for money and sleeping in the street. He had become part of the criminal underworld in order to preserve his pride as a human being.


    Kind of funny then, that I was deemed to have to live a life below a human. He didn''t fail to see the goddess'' intentions.


    -


    They were both over thinking his words when a scream came from the square.


    It was Dumb''s voice.


    <hr>


    When they arrived at the square Dumb was tied up in a rope that had been tied to the roof of the lumber storage. He had gotten constricted in the material, and as he struggled the loop pulled in tighter and ensnared him. It was working exactly as intended, save for the target.


    Four goblins were busy trying to get him out without cutting the rope. Laugh and Scream that had been making the thing with him, and Fat and Quiet who had been nearby.


    "Good to see you goofing us and distracting everybody from their work." Scratch complained as they stepped into the little goblin town.


    The group turned to look at them and wildly waved their arms. "No. Nonono."


    "What are you afraid of? Does everybody now think I''m some kind of-" Scratch stepped into a pile of leaves, which dislodged a rope from its locking mechanism and allowed a counterweight, in the form of an earthenware pot filled with dirt, to pull a snare tautly around his ankle and yank him upwards against the side of the blacksmithing hut.


    Unlike Dumb he didn''t scream. But his eyes went wide with surprise. He dangled a bit before talking. "To be honest, I''m just really impressed by this trap."


    Laugh came to help Second get him down.


    -


    While they were busy getting out of the traps Kicker and Biter arrived, alarmed by Dumb''s initial scream.


    "Where''s the chicken?" Kicker almost yelled, holding out Teeth''s old sword.


    As they were about to explain what the commotion had been about he quickly cut Dumb out of his constraint, which shifted the conversation towards complaints about ruining a perfectly fine rope trap, leaving the two ever more confused.


    With Laugh and Second trying to coordinate over Scratch''s predicament and heavy arguing going on at the other side of the square the many voices drowned each other out and became unintelligible.


    "Stop" Said Scratch, receiving no attention. "STOP!" He yelled angrily.


    Everyone fell silent.


    "Why..." He started. "...is Digger here?"


    Digger, somewhat befuddled by the commotion, was holding up his own coat, folded around a living, squirming object like a bag. "I''ve got the chicken."


    <hr>


    Yeah, petrification is only temporary. Cyclophan explained that night.


    "I see you''re back to that form." Scratch commented, looking at the small viper.


    Hey, it''s your imagination.


    "I mainly want to discuss the darkness though."


    Cool, isn''t it? I bet you''ve never seen so much powerful magic in your life.


    "Get rid of it."


    Get rid of it? My unique ability as the god of Trickery? But it''s my primary weapon against invaders.


    "It''s your primary weapon against your own people, you''ve got to stop it. For the sake of our agreement."


    The snake grumbled. Fine.


    "And the chicken evolving? That was you too?"


    A cockatrice. The first weapon in what''s going to be an extensive arsenal of weapons.


    "We were using that chicken. Turn it back."


    What? Why? How are we going to get a strong dungeon without monsters?


    "I promise I''ll get you more goblins. Just... just why? Why do you need to become a dungeon so bad?"


    I told you already. I need to protect myself, humans and demi-humans that serve the main gods make it their mission to cast out evil gods.


    "And how are they able to find you?"


    It''s a human thing. They form organizations for finding dungeons and sharing information on it between themselves. It used to be a holy order, now it''s an adventurers'' guild.


    "And you see nothing circular in that logic?"


    Huh?


    "Have you considered that if there is no dungeon, there won''t be any adventurers send to destroy you?"


    The evil god was perplexed. A secret dungeon... That would certainly fit the god of Guile and Trickery.


    "Now do you see the foolishness in protruding great tentacles of darkness and filling the land with dangerous monsters?"


    Hey. No. Wait a minute. You''re a goblin den, you''ll attract adventurers anyway.


    "What? Will they just sniff us out with their goblin senses?"


    Yes. I mean no, but... every year the adventurers'' guild organizes a goblin killing event in Eston, it''s to prevent goblin overpopulation, for newbie adventurers to prove themselves, and to feed the slimes that are coming out of hibernation. The whole forest will be crawling with newbies, they''ll stumble upon us eventually. And if you manage to fight them off, that''s it, you''ve become an official monster den in the guild''s paperwork.


    Scratch scratched his imaginary chin. "I''ll find something for that. But in the meantime, Cyclophan, don''t make it worse. Keep it on the down low, okay? Nobody came looking for you while you were buried beneath the sand."


    Aye-aye, boss. Cyclophan said sarcastically, visibly annoyed at taking orders from his champion.


    "Are you going to change the chicken back?"


    Uuhm... no. The cockatrice can live underground, and its eggs are larger. It only turns you to stone if you look into its eyes, so don''t do that and you''re fine.


    Scratch groaned. "When are you going to evolve me?"


    I have to gather my powers before doing anything big.


    -


    "Well, anyway, I should probably wake up."


    Yes. No, wait. I forgot to tell you last time, you don''t actually need to be asleep to talk to me.


    "I don''t?"


    In the palace ruins of the last goblin king you''ll find a pipe. He used it to smoke blue grass, which gave him the ability to speak with Bolgos, god of Gluttonous Indulgence.


    "Blue grass?"


    You can find it anywhere, it''s grass that''s blue. Magical creatures look down on it as an inferior magical ingredient, but it can give non-magical creatures a short burst of mana to do simple magic, like communing with a god.


    "And if I do that, will I be able to hear your answer?"


    Yes. For as long as the smoke is in your lungs.


    "Alright, thanks for the tip Cyclophan."


    <hr>


    Sebastian clutched his briefcase of ground up fairy wings. The illegal reagents would finance his household for a year if he managed to sell them to Eston''s thieves'' guild.


    He stuck his head out of the carriage window. "What''s taking so long? We should be on the road by now."


    The bandit guarding his vehicle gave him an annoyed sidelong glance. This greatly offended Sebastian, how dared this footfolk look down on a baron''s son like himself? It was true that he had fallen on some hard times and had to resort to selling illegal substances in order to not have to marry to a rich merchant''s daughter, but he was no better, he had been exiled for his crimes and even worse, he was a peasant.


    "Tell me now, bandit." Sebastian demanded of the guard.


    "We''re investigating a plume of magical darkness, smuggler." He snapped back.


    Magical darkness? Oh, Rhada have mercy. Sebastian plucked a handkerchief out of his pocket and used it to wipe his forehead. I knew this route was too close to the witchwood.


    -


    "Huck. Huckabee." Another bandit approached, waving her hands. "The magic went away, Harkness says to just continue."


    "Roger." The bandit slapped the side of the carriage and Sebastian''s driver spurred the horses to continue.


    "You know..." The bandit said from the outside of the window. "...you wouldn''t have to wait like this if you had just sold it to Nestor."


    "Mind your own business, peasant!" Sebastian said angrily. Deal with that thug? He refused to give blackmail material to a peasant like him, he was already under suspicion by the duke, unable to travel the main road without being inspected, as other baron families could by just showing their family name. There was no doubt peasant scum like


    Nestor would demand money not to reveal the eldest son of the Tanner house had been dealing in fairy dust. If that ever happened his father would have to deny knowledge and he''d be banished, becoming a bandit himself. No, he had a trustworthy buyer in Eston''s thieves'' guild, a noble like himself.


    "Now we have to make two trips." The bandit whined. "First you and then Nestor."


    Sebastian huffed. Suited him right for being a bandit.


    <hr>


    Cockatrice


    Family: Bird


    Threat Level: F


    Reward: 3 copper pieces


    Cockatrices are pests, usually ignored by adventurers of level E and up. Their ability to petrify regular people with their gaze makes them a nuisance in any place they turn up in, this is a weaker form of petrification that lasts only an hour or two. They can be recognized by their chicken-like bodies, with reptilian features around the eyes and feet, protruding between their regular feather bed are also a few bright green feathers.


    The cockatrice''s beak and green feathers make for useable alchemy reagents.


    Except when mating, cockatrices prefer to be alone and are not usually found in flocks. They are omnivores and prefer environments with little plant life, such as caves and deserts, scavenging for dead animals.


    Beside their ability to petrify, cockatrices have sharp claws and a beak, which render them slightly more dangerous than the average chicken.

 Diplomacy

    With the newly uncovered layers of sediment by the clearing of the tunnel new possibilities opened up.


    Some gold had already been uncovered in the sand, but now the vein itself had been laid bare. Without access to a wider economy gold wasn''t of much use to them however.


    Two other new acquisitions were rock salt and limestone. The salt was a welcome addition to Quiet''s kitchen, the limestone had other uses.


    Currently they were wearing fur clothing, the skin was mostly untreated, except for the basic scraping that most of the feral goblins neglected with their loincloths. Although they weren''t hanging flaps of rotting meat, they were a far cry from properly tanned leather.


    With the new limestone and old horse carcasses from the bandits'' stay Scratch decided to put some manpower on fixing that. They needed some new work to keep them busy now that the perimeter was finished anyhow.


    -


    The first thing they did after scraping the horse skins was submerging them in quicklime, created by cooking limestone in a metal pan in an open space.


    After two days of letting the caustic liquid affect the material it became easy to pull out the dead animals'' hair. At that point much of the top layer of the skin could be scraped off, to keep only the supple part.


    After washing out the quicklime this material was then brained and smoked. Meaning it was submerged in a broth of horse brain and raw egg, squeezed dry, and suspended over a fire. The chemical significance of this escaped Scratch, but he knew better than to question an age old recipe.


    -


    In the end they were left with a more durable and supple sewing material. More suited for the warmer period that was coming. Fat and Dumb had so much fun working with it that they didn''t even consider it a chore to sew new tunics out of them.


    <hr>


    "How''s it taste?" Scratch asked.


    Quiet nodded approvingly and handed him a bun to try it.


    They were baking bread with salt now, unearthed with the help of their good friend Cyclophan, the evil god. It was a marked improvement. With the much larger eggs from their cockatrice creature they were able to produce a complete healthy breakfast.


    One of the bedrooms had been cleared out to be a monster pen, the beast had been given a blindfold to impede its ability, making it no more dangerous than a slightly large, blind chicken.


    "We''re almost out of flour." Second said. "Are we really going to hand these out?"


    "I thought we had this conversation? We''re going to need to make some friends if we want peace in our times."


    "We did not have that conversation."


    Both creatures had perfect and objective verbal recollection, the cause of the disagreement was nobody''s lapse in memory, but Scratch''s overconfidence in his own ability to convey implied meaning.


    "Well... Fine." He said. "Then you know now, just in time to set out."


    The party selected for diplomatic relations consisted of Scratch himself, Quiet, and Second. Kicker and Biter, who had been on this kind of expedition before, were to stay at the cave to defend it. Dumb was left in charge of delegating the chores in the meantime, with the perimeter done this just meant making sure the firewood supply was kept up, food was gathered and prepared each day, and everybody kept doing their training.


    As an added goal they could renew their focus on gathering precious metals from the cave, Scratch had singled out the gold as significant, although he wasn''t yet sure how to use it, and a heard a few voices warning him of it.


    -


    As the party waved goodbye and set out on their journey, they were dragging along with them the sled, carrying woven straw boxes, each containing some bread and a slice of hard-boiled cockatrice egg.


    "So. We''re not trading them for anything this time." Second said.


    "We''re trading them for some goodwill." Scratch answered.


    "What''s that?"


    "It''s... just them liking us a bit more."


    "So we''re not trading them for anything this time."


    "No."


    -


    They hadn''t walked an hour before Scratch began to grow bored of his own plan. "Ugh. Days on the road. If only we could keep one of the bandits'' living horses."


    "Those big animals?" Quiet whispered.


    "Yeah, they use them as mounts, it''s faster and less tiring."


    Second criticized the idea. "Too big. You wouldn''t be able to control them."


    "Hmm. Said Scratch. You''re right about that. Nice hides though." He stroked his tunic. With the temperatures rising it was good to get out of their fur and into something a bit more summer-y. The tunics were like long shirts with short sleeves, usually from just one patch of leather sown into the proper cut. Scratch thought it made them look like ancient Romans.


    <hr>


    Their first stop was what Biter had referred to as "the cat group", because cats were most dangerous in the area. But unsurprisingly, they hadn''t made it through the winter.


    "We can skip over the small groups." Scratch said. "They won''t be around anymore. What matters are the communities, from our own trading partners that''d be... let''s see."


    Second answered for him. "I think the island tribe and the hill tribe fit."


    It was telling how Seconds'' name for each group incorporated the natural defenses they relied upon.


    The island''s tribe was a community of about nine goblins, they lived on a patch of land in the middle of a more wild part of the river, which stopped the aggressive six-legged foxes from assaulting them. The fur and earthenware traded by the cave goblins had played a key role in preventing their death from the cold during the winter and halting the amount of goblins being dragged along the stream when trying to drink.


    The hill tribe had dug themselves in at the top of a steep hill. They needed a constant guard to fend off the man eating donkeys that grazed near them with big sticks, but added mobility due to shoes had left them relatively well off, not to mention that replacing their sticks with Scratch''s spears had helped them scare off the monsters some more.


    These were two groups that had good reason to be warm towards the diplomatic envoy, but there were also others in the forest that they hadn''t had contact with yet.


    -


    "There''s also the tree home." Scratch said, referring to the hole underneath the roots of an ancient tree whose occupants had been allies of the orcs. "That Runt kid lead us to them. Whatever happened to Runt anyway?"


    Second looked at him in surprise. "You don''t remember? We got away from the orcs and he decided to go back to the tree home. Similar language I suppose."


    "I was kind of out of it at the time." Scratch admitted. "But if we have some rapport with Runt we can set up ties with that tribe. Maybe even other former orc vassals."


    He didn''t know how much the goblin tribes had benefited from their orc beneficiaries, but he suspected it was mostly weapons for taking out other goblins they had gotten out of it. The cave goblins themselves had some black steel knives and daggers left over at the cave, stolen from the ancient temple at one time, for pretending to be one of them.


    "Let''s make a round movement." Scratch gestured the path they would take with his hands. "To the river, downstream a bit, and then back."


    "That seems like a detour." Quiet said softly.


    "There''s some other places I want to visit."


    "A-ha." Second pointed the finger accusingly. "So there is something else you''re hoping to achieve."


    Scratch rolled his eyes. "There always is. Everything I do always serves at least two purposes."


    <hr>


    Barbara was standing at the dockyard, seeing the ships dock. Currently the merchants of Eston were getting rich and fat off trade and the footfolk like herself could do nothing but fight for scraps. But that would change soon. Soon the orc horde would disrupt the smuggling business of her fellow guild members, with any luck they''d wipe out every last one of those bandits, and collapse the underworld of Eston.


    She looked at the day laborers helping to unload one of the ships. She recognized various Thieves'' Guild members and key contacts among them, this week they would load a ship with stolen artifacts heading to the republic of


    Grienice, among them a very rare case of fairy dust, an alchemical component used only by the most wicked of alchemists.


    Sure, the few rare metrials had made it through, but the majority of the profit wasn''t derived from the occasional rare smuggling ware. They wouldn''t earn back the cost of the coverup without the last main load of mundane stolen goods this season. Nestor''s caravan, that would fail to make it through Eston''s goblin and orc infested woods for sure. As far as she could determine the Thieves'' Guild leadership had taken no precautions, or even warned its lower ranked members of the possibility that this season''s black market event would fall through. In a few weeks the culling would start, and then the forest would be too swarming with adventurers for any illegal trade to make it through. For at least two months.


    She wrung her hands, already selecting the strongest men in her head for a good attack squad. When her friends'' smuggling ring would fall apart, she''d have her pick of thugs jumping at the chance to be part of her protection racket.


    She''d only need to wait one week for the seriousness of the situation becoming clear to everyone. In the meantime, some preparation was required.


    -


    She turned her back to she ships and swayed her hips along to the back entrance of the potion shop she had just left.


    "Made up your mind?" Grinned the alchemist''s assistant, spreading out a variety of forbidden concoctions for her to buy.


    "I have." Barbara answered in a more solemn tone. "Some mana toxin if you don''t mind." She fished a silver piece out of her purse. A steep price, when dealing with illegal substances that was unavoidable.


    "Excellent choice." The assistant mimicked the eager-to-please tone of voice his master would adopt when handling customers, it didn''t get a laugh. "Here you go."


    "How many of these can you produce by the end of next week?" She asked, rolling the vial in her hand.


    "Next week? I don''t know. I have to be careful you see, if the master sees any components are missing..."


    She not so subtly showed a dove egg-sized gold nugget in her hand. "I''d like seven more before sunday."


    The boy audibly gulped. The nugget had to be worth almost twelve silver pieces. "I''m sure I can arrange something... How many knights are you planning to take on anyway?"


    Now she did chuckle. Mana toxin was useful for bringing down individuals more powerful than one self, because it had the ability to disrupt their ability to use their own mana, something those with higher power relied on more than mundane peasants. "I might be aiming a bit higher than the knight''s watch." She said.


    "W...well. As always, you didn''t get it from me." The boy said nervously, as he packed up his poisons.


    "I''m not supposed to tell anybody this..." Barbara purred musically. "...but things might get heated soon. I advice you choose the right side to support."


    She left again, leaving the assistant patently confused.


    <hr>


    The island tribe welcomed the diplomatic envoy with open arms. They deployed a young tree with half of the branches broken off as a make-shiftt drawbridge for them to cross the river.


    "How''s life, old chum? Happy to see us?"


    "Good. Thank."


    Neither party had ever seen the other before. The earlier trading party had consisted of three entirely different goblins. But there was something recognizable about goblins going about dressed in crudely stitched clothing. And


    Scratch derived ironic enjoyment out of greeting a total stranger like an old friend.


    Scratch kept babbling, hamming up the role of returned friend while the goblins he hadn''t even asked the name of where trying to keep up with his quickly spoken words.


    Quiet unpacked one of the gift boxes and handed it over to the leader. He was clearly starved because he immediately sat down to scarf down the prepared meal.


    The leader eats first. Scratch thought to himself. He had almost forgotten the alpha-male structure other goblins used for their society.


    -


    "First sad?" one of the island tribe members asked when their leader started crying.


    "I don''t think that''s the reason, buddy." Scratch said as he ruffled First''s, the leader''s, hair. "Don''t eat it all at once, but don''t try to keep it too long either. It''s a spoilable good."


    With that they unloaded the amount of bread they thought would be about appropriate to gift a tribe of this size.


    "Remember us when you eat it."


    The leader hugged Scratch''s waist tightly. "Thank. Thank." He sobbed into the tunic.


    "Whoa, stop. This is new."


    -


    When they were about to leave again, as they didn''t want to spend too much time on each location, the goblins came running after them with a gift of their own. A freshly slain six-legged red fox. It wasn''t an equal trade, but then again, that wasn''t the purpose of the mission. They thanked them for the gift and added it to the sled.


    "They were really happy with it." Quiet said, somewhat content.


    Second agreed. "They were eager to see us return." He added, looking at the red fox.


    "Haven''t eaten any cooked food before, I imagine." Scratch explained.


    "They should." Quiet mumbled.


    <hr>


    Careful to keep his composure he gratefully cut up the expensive filet mignon.


    Dining in a five star restaurant, eating expensive foods in an expensive suit, he could feel his humanity returning. It was a good feeling, being a human being.


    The man paying for it all was a well known career criminal. "Eat up kid, you deserved it."


    He threw back his head to wash down the beef with a big gulp of twenty year old wine. "Ah! That does a body good."


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "You like that, how''d you feel about eating like this every day?" The gangster suggested before taking a sip of his own.


    He looked around th establishment while picking food rests out between his teeth. This is where I belong, high society. "Yeah, sure I''ll launder drug money for the Syndicate."


    "Ugh-Ah" The gangster choked on his wine.


    "Ey, you alright?" He asked him, after winking at a fur wearing lady giving them a stare over her shoulder.


    "I was suggesting you come work for me, at the sawmill."


    "Yeah, and launder money. You''re scouting me for the Syndicate after I set up the real estate bait-and-switch for


    Frankie, right? I''m saying I''ll do it."


    The criminal leaned back with his hand on his forehead. "What are you doing, you wearing a wire or somethin''?"


    "Oh!" He tapped the side of his nose to indicate he understood. "Yeah, yeah. Only legitimate business. No conspiracy, I get you."


    "You''re a smart kid, but you ain''t too clever. Do me a favor and stay in your lane from now on. No being a wiseguy, understood."


    "Understood, sir."


    He''d do anything to live a life of dignity like this.


    <hr>


    "Do we have all the escaped horses now?" Huckabee asked his fellow bandit.


    "There''s bound to be a few that died in the wild or got to far away." Said Dee. "I think this is all we have."


    "Such a shame." He said, looking at the small herd. "And we used to have so many too."


    Dee got a little annoyed. "Yeah, and we used to have a lot of people too. That''s a shame too."


    "I know. I know." Huckabee sighed, he had wanted to veer the conversation away from dead comrades, but in the process he had said something insensitive again.


    -


    The bandit camp was slowly starting to function again. Most of the essentials were there, even if the orcs had destroyed many sentimentally significant possessions along with all the human life. There were enough tents to sleep in, buckets and mugs to use and food to eat. They had even been able to secure the doves and resume contact with the thieves of Eston. Because they were just so eager to do the thieves'' dirty work.


    Dee groaned while thinking about all this.


    "What''s on your mind?" Huckabee asked.


    "I was thinking about the next thing we have to do, just to keep the guild leadership happy. Are you prepared?"


    "Hmm? Escorting Nestor''s caravan, right? Pretty routine."


    "Pretty routine. Except just before we were doing it for that stuck-up noble boy and you were awful, ya git."


    Huckabee looked pained. "You mean with the goblins, right?"


    While guarding the carriage they had crossed paths with feral goblins, they were very easy to deal with normally.


    Goblins are fearless and will attack enemies that severely outclass them head on. However, when trying to fight them off without hurting them the battle becomes a great deal more complicated, and increases the chance they''ll find a way to hurt you.


    "I just spend a week watching the fallout of the last time I killed a goblin." Huckabee whined.


    "Alright, but, like, you still need to kill them."


    "Yeah..." Huckabee relented, but didn''t sound convinced.


    -


    They were patrolling around the outside of the camp, with the orcs gone the need for constant vigilance was reduced, but there still needed to be some guarding to make sure no animals or low level monster snuck into the area.


    "Wh- oh. It''s you guys." Huckabee reached for his sword when he saw a trio of diminutive creatures bursting out of the undergrowth, but they were Beatty''s goblins.


    "Yikes, were you about to lob my head off?" Scratch asked in an amused tone.


    "I actually, non-jokingly, was." Huckabee said.


    "Well, hold your horses, we''re just passing through." He said, helping his brother drag a sled of material over an outcropping rock. "How are you guys? Is the rebuilding going well?"


    "As good as it gets." Dee said, but she had something else on her mind. "You three aren''t here for a snatching spree, are you?"


    "A what?" Second asked, digging into his nose with his finger.


    Dee sighed in relief. "During this time of year, when it''s not as cold anymore, we see a lot of goblins climbing out of their holes to attack human farms and grab women." She explained.


    Scratch scratched his head. "I suppose that''d make sense, wouldn''t it? We''re just doing some charity work, for now.


    But now that you mention it, how do you guys feel about those farm people? You know, the ones working the lands just outside the forest."


    "We''re basically enemies." Said Huckabee. "Bandits have a price on their head, farmers are bond servants to the king."


    "Huck!" Dee shot him an angry look. He was giving their goblin friends a carte blanche to pillage and rape them.


    "What?"


    "How did all of you become bandits anyway?" Scratch inquired, the sled now firmly planted on the level ground and they were ready to continue.


    "Oh... you know..." Huckabee leaned against a tree. "All kinds of different reasons, some of us were born to bandits, some of us were exiled or abandoned..." He was getting self-conscious about telling his life''s story to an inquisitive goblin. "Ahem, Dee, what about you?"


    Dee just stared at him.


    "So you just... found each other?" Scratch asked.


    "That''s a nice way to put it." Dee said. "But really, we''re collected here because we all want to be absolved by the


    Thieves'' Guild."


    The other two goblins were ready to leave, but Scratch held them up by listening intently to what she had to say. "Tell me more. What''s the Thieves'' Guild?"


    "Right, uh, so... A Guild is an organization of all people doing the same thing. So there''s the Carpenters'' Guild, the Bakers'' Guild, the Adventurers'' Guild-"


    "The Thieves'' Guild can get us new identities, false names." Huckabee interrupted her. "They are the organization for things you don''t want the kingdom to find out."


    "The only one?" Scratch raised an eyebrow sceptically.


    "I mean, yeah? There are different ones in different cities, but if it''s illegal, it''s handled by the Thieves'' Guild."


    "I suppose the waiting list for one of those new identities is pretty long." Scratch posited. "With how many of you are holing up here."


    Dee puffed out her cheeks. "You have no idea. I have no idea how long it was since the last time anybody got to go to Eston. And in the meantime, we''re stuck here doing their chores."


    "Chores?"


    "Fighting off the orcs so nobody sends any military to Eston (thanks for that by the way), keeping the smuggling route safe, assassinating travelers, it''s a handful."


    "Hmm" Scratch thought about it. "It sounds like they don''t have much incentive to get you out of here."


    Both bandits were put off by the comment.


    "Anything you need to do for them soon?"


    "Uhm..." It didn''t feel like he should be sharing that kind of information, but Huckabee didn''t see the harm in telling a goblin. "Next week, we''re escorting a smuggler?"


    Scratch glanced at his brothers acting impatient with the sled. "Can you tell Lydia we''ll be dropping by tomorrow? No.


    The day after tomorrow. There''s something I want to discuss."


    "Sure thing..."


    -


    The two bandits stared at the goblins leaving, they were bickering and joking with each other like brothers.


    "Lately life has been getting weirder and weirder..." Dee said.


    "Did he say something about doing charity work?" Huckabee asked.


    "Did he just call the boss by her first name?" Dee added.


    "It sounded like he was going to make her a business proposition." Huckabee answered.


    Scary times... scary times..." Dee muttered as she went ahead to resume the patrol.


    <hr>


    Kicker was practicing using the crossbow on a tree, Fat was behind him, fletching crossbow bolts and not at all keeping up with the speed at which Biter could ruin them.


    Biter was supposed to be keeping a lookout from the tower, but he had descended. "Kicker, hey, Kicker!" He yelled, stepping into the path of Kicker''s practicing range.


    "Stop! Stop!" Dumb came running. "No walking in front of the firing range. Stop that right now!"


    Biter rolled his eyes. Thinking Dumb took being put in charge too seriously, he stepped back with his hands raised demonstratively.


    "What is it?" Kicker asked, he had put the crossbow down and approached him.


    "Can you take over watching from the tower? I have to go." He bended his knees and held his hand in front of his crotch as non-verbal communication.


    "Can''t you hold it in until your turn is over?" Said Dumb.


    "Don''t be... Dumb." Biter responded, surprised and happy at a new way to dismiss his bossy brother.


    "I''ll go stand on the tower." Kicker said. "I''ll take the crossbow, I think I''ve got the hang of it now."


    "Okay." Biter was already running off. "But I get to practice with it when it''s your turn."


    -


    Beyond the tree line is where the goblins would go to defecate and urinate. It was far enough away from where they lived for the smell not to bother them. A new place had to be found every time in order for them to not step into their own waste, but the forest was big and they hadn''t ran into any problems yet.


    As Biter found his way beyond the perimeter he noticed a smell hanging into the air. Now that the temperature was so consistently above the freezing point the many weeks'' worth of poop and dead bodies were exuding their pungent stench. It had only gotten worse over the past days.


    He pulled up his tunic, the new clothing made the process easier, which was good since they all wanted it to be over sooner. He leaned with his back against the tree in a sitting position. While he was defecating he was in a vulnerable position, but he had never had to worry about wild animals straying near the cave.


    While focusing on doing his business he was jolted out of his concentration by the sound of water sloshing around in a large sack. He looked around to see a large blue transparent blob crudely propelling itself towards him from the base of another tree, which created the sloshing noise.


    The way it headed for him directly seemed ominous, but Biter didn''t want to rush through his process and risk soiling his new tunic. Besides, the thing moved at a snail''s pace.


    As the blob was entering his personal space, Biter finished his business and shook his body in order to rid himself of the last stray particles. If the thing was like any animal he knew it would lunge at close range in order to grab a complacent prey.


    Luckily, it wasn''t.


    Biter stood himself upright and walked off as the thing seemed to settle itself in the place he had just done his business.


    -


    "Guys!" Biter yelled from beyond the treeline. "You won''t believe what-"


    As he jumped over a tree trunk to near the perimeter his foot sank into a viscous liquid. He fell squarely on his nose.


    "Ah! What-?"


    He turned on his back without being able to dislodge his foot from the jelly, he watch as his boot was sloshed around inside another blob, a smaller one. Not until he saw the seems on Second''s attentively sown fur boot come loose did he realize the burning sensation on the skin. The pain was increasing by the second.


    -


    "AAAAAAAAAAH!" Biter''s screams rung far over the clearing and even into the cave, causing Laugh to lower his pickaxe and come out.


    Immediately Kicker jumped down from the tower, followed by Dumb and Fat.


    In a panicked state of mind long distances seem shorter, and they flew over to their brother in what felt like two heartbeats. They found him writhing on the floor, tearing up but trying to stay strong, and constantly pulling at his leg.


    "What''s wrong? What are you doing?" Kicker panted.


    "It''s stuck. It has my leg." Biter grimaced.


    Kicker looked at the slimy creature and readied his crossbow.


    "No. You idiot." Dumb pushed it away. "Who are you more likely to hit?"


    He may be annoying, but he was right in this instance. Kicker wasn''t about to admit it though. "What do you know?


    You''ve never-"


    As they were bickering Fat had closed the distance and plunged the knife he had used for carving crossbow bolts into the pliant liquid. The thing seemed to suck him in but he ran his hand down the side, pulling away while leaving a large gash in the blob.


    "Yes!" "Alright!" Kicker and Dumb cheered, but Biter was less enthusiastic.


    "I''m still stuck!" He groaned.


    The monster was completely unperturbed by the damage it had taken and continued digesting Biter''s foot. It had burned through the skin at various places now and red blood was seeping out.


    Kicker and Fat committed to a quick succession of stabs and slashed, careful to avoid harming their brother, but the slimy material simply knitted itself together after being forced apart.


    They were trying to figure out some way to carve out Biter''s body part without getting themselves lodged in when


    Dumb returned. He had left in order to pick up the bucket of quicklime they had been soaking skins in.


    "Outofthewayoutoftheway" he yelled as he jumped down from the perimeter at high speed with a heavy load.


    Kicker and Fat jumped to the side just in time to avoid the acidic substance he splashed from his container.


    The blob recoiled at the introduction of the substance and let go of the goblin''s foot, who was quickly dragged out of its reach by his brothers.


    "What did you do?" Fat asked sheepishly.


    "Scratch said the quicklime was dangerous. I thought if knives don''t hurt, let''s try something else that does."


    "Aww. My foot. My foot." Biter cried out. It was visibly discolored and hurt where it had been inside the substance.


    "Let''s get back to safety." Kicker suggested. "I think I see more of them around."


    <hr>


    The hill tribe was as happy with the diplomatic envoy''s visit as the island tribe were.


    Scratch and company didn''t want to pull their sled uphill so they asked the leader to come down, which he did, alongside eight of his friends.


    There was much merrymaking and playful conversation. The topic veered into the predators the tribe used their spears to fight off. Scratch seemed interested in the blue grass the dangerous creatures seemed to graze on, and was taken to a patch of it. He pulled out various tufts of the vegetation and pocketed it.


    The donkeys seemed to have learned to fear the goblins and their leader boasted about how they were now able to hunt and eat the beasts.


    Second nudged Scratch and pointed at one of the animals, it was hissing at two hill tribe goblins cajoling it in a very un-donkey-like fashion. "Aren''t they more our size? What if we had those as horses?"


    "Taming one of those? I don''t know. Do you think you can do it?"


    Second was surprised. "No, I thought you might."


    "I don''t. I do know it''s easier with animals that can''t eat you. Anyway let''s not hang around here too long. Quiet! Are you coming?"


    Quiet was off in a distance, telling the others about making fire and distilling water.


    "Look at that social butterfly." Scratch shook his head in amusement. "He''s really coming out of his shell."


    "He gets like that when he has something to teach." Second commented.


    -


    They said their goodbyes, Scratch didn''t want to linger too long at any one place and draw out the trip.


    "You said the next place is the tree home." Second commented. "So why are you drawing out the trip by going all the way back to the river? The fast way would be to just go there directly."


    "We want to go to the old ruins where you met Runt and we want to go to the place where we collected the head." Scratch said resolutely, the others had to just accept it.


    -


    The place they reached first was the place of the massacre.


    They had encountered two humans, followed by a third and maybe a fourth one, he hadn''t been able to tell in the chaos of the battle.


    The orcs had been easily wiped out by various magical spells and abilities. It had been terrifying.


    The bodies of the orcs had almost completely disappeared, though there were still shards of bone and rotting meat strewn about. Various distinct blobs of blueish slime where sitting squarely on the place the monsters had died.


    "I don''t remember these things..." Scratch mumbled as they approached the giant balls.


    "Be careful..." Quiet whispered. "...they''re eating the meat."


    "Be careful?" Scratch laughed, walking circles around one, it pulsed in his direction but wasn''t able to keep up. "You''d have to be an idiot to be caught in one these while alive."


    "I don''t like them." Second said uncomfortable. "Why are we here?"


    "We''re here because of these." Scratch hopped over to the object of his search. "We don''t want any of these lying around, incriminating our ruse."


    They were world memories. One called Orc Champion, the other Overwhelming Reinforcement. The champion one showed the orc chieftain at his most photogenic, a true warrior. The reinforcement one clearly showed the four humans taking care of the orc, something the bandit should not be allowed to see, the fantasy of Clyde Beatty, monster tamer and bandit saver, had to be maintained.


    He tried to tear the cards, but realized they were indestructible. He decided to keep a hold of them. "Okay boys, let''s skedaddle. It''s getting late."


    It was, the sun was already going down.


    <hr>


    Before they reach the tree home they reached the ruins.


    Scratch hadn''t been there before and was surprised by its size. "Amazing. I wonder how old this world is." Did goblins really have a civilization as large as this?


    Eventually he found the goblin king''s pipe. It was an enormous stone thing. It started at a mouthpiece appropriately sized for a normal mouth but extended and widened until the burning end was the size of a fist.


    "What do you need that for?" Quiet asked.


    "Magic." Scratch answered.


    -


    He kept it his hand while they continued. He could fill it with blue grass at that point, but without the firepit he had no means of lighting it.


    When we get back... when we get back I''ll be able to talk with this damn guy properly.


    -


    They arrived at the tree home when the sun was already down, but the residents were still mostly up and active.


    The betrayal and later disappearance of the orcs had shook them, and they were no longer so assertive in rebuking visitors.


    One of the guards made pig noises when the envoy was unloading, he seemed to recognize Scratch and Second.


    "I can sort of half understand him." Scratch mentioned. "But I''m really not in the mood to learn an extra language. Isn''t Runt around?"


    Runt was around, he came to them by the side of the alpha male, whose name was *Nug*, which translated to


    "Servant". Runt served as Servant''s translator when conversing with the envoy.


    He thanked them for the food and asked them to share their sources of it with him. There was some trouble in the translation trying to convey the message that they had mostly made these products themselves.


    Runt had to talk quickly to keep up with Servant''s agitated speech. "You join us. Get woman. Get weapons. Together, take... food?"


    Scratch wasn''t at all sweet on the idea of giving up control to a new overlord. After hearing sobbing, he peeked over


    Runt''s shoulder to see the peach skin of a human woman shining through the roots. A snatching spree, huh? It looks like the other tribes are replenishing their numbers. "No deal, Nug, we have prior agreements. Thanks though."


    As Runt did his best to relay the information Servant became increasingly agitated and confused. He was trying to think of a response when Second interjected.


    "We''re are here to work together, but in a different way. The pig men are gone, we were there, you won''t be able to work together with them anymore. That doesn''t mean you''re alone now, us goblin tribes, we can look out for each other."


    Scratch turned to face Second and looked at him top to bottom. That was a great salespitch, is that improvised or have you been having thoughts like this for longer? He thought to himself.


    "Anyway." He addressed Servant again. "That''s all for now. This was just a gift to remember us by. We''d like to work more closely together with the other tribes you knew under the orcs at some point. No rush, we''ll talk later."


    -


    "I thought you wanted to find the other tribes?" Quiet whispered to him as they left the tree tribe territory.


    "In due time, my dear Quiet." Scratch said in an old mansy tone of voice while pretending to puff the unlit pipe. "The important thing was getting off on the right foot. Old Nuggy isn''t in the mood for questioning right now, he''s just had a successful raid and he''s full of testosterone. We''ve made contact, spreading our influence beyond that can wait for now. Besides, we''re out of food."


    "Then we can finally go home." Second yawned.


    "Indeed." Scratch puffed. "We can fish the next batch of skins out of the quicklime."


    <hr>


    I''ve learned a lot from talking to Beatrice. As it turns out, I''m not the only reincarnator in this world.


    She says that most likely, everybody that has earned the title of a hero is someone from our world, which is Japan.


    That means the most important people in the world are only important because they were given cheat-like abilities by that mysterious dark god.


    She says that it''s best to keep this a secret, and I agree, I wouldn''t want anybody to think differently of me. I don''t want to think of myself as Hayato Ito anymore, that guy was a failure, my name is Laurus, I am an adventurer!


    -


    I look out the window of my room in Eston. I had expected to leave this place a long time ago, but then the business with the orcs happened, and after that meeting with Beatrice Dichtershire. I make up my mind, it''s time I go out and have a real adventure. I already have a paladin in my party, that''s both healing and tanking, my specialty is dps, we need a good mid-range fighter, like a mage, and maybe a rogue...


    I am all happy about my plans for the future as I leave my room to go downstairs. I was about to meet up with the others about traveling together towards Blurich, since they have something to deliver there and we can seek out the sky dungeon.


    In the hallway I bump up against a disheveled looking guy. He''s wearing fancy noble''s clothes, but his hair is messy and he has bags under his eyes.


    ¡¾Hey!¡¿The man says rudely.¡¾What''s where you''re go- It''s you!¡¿


    What? Have we met before?


    ¡¾How did you find me? It doesn''t matter. You have nothing on me, Sebastian Tanner is not so easily brought down!¡¿


    Seriously, who is this guy?


    <hr>


    Slimes


    Family: Slimes


    Threat Level: F


    Reward: 1 copper piece


    Slimes are the second weakest creature that still can be called a monster. They are considered more dangerous than goblins only by virtue of the fact that they are immune to weak physical damage. Slimes are large blobs of gelatinous material with very limited movement capabilities. They can only kill beings smaller than themselves, they do this by enveloping them completely and then digesting them, they must survive on a detrivorous diet on a day-to-day basis to survive.


    Slime supression is a level F quest for a single person or a party, depending on the size of the area and the amount of slimes. Slimes are a popular target for rookie adventurers for being so easy to kill and for their alchemically valuable slime. However, it is easy to mistake an evolved slime of a higher threat level for a basic one, some are different merely in size. So even in a slime suppression quest, there is an element of risk.


    Because of their bottom feeding tendencies, slimes tend to be attracted to, and grow on, graves and battlefields or compost heaps and outhouses. They keep adventuring areas clean, but must also be kept out of graveyards and sewers.

 Trade

    When the diplomatic envoy returned they found that their lime bath had been trashed and their brother seriously injured.


    "I''m stupid." Biter said. "I stepped right into it."


    "You''re not stupid." Scratch corrected him. "You just weren''t prepared."


    Biter hadn''t been able to sleep due to the pain, and the others had gotten less sleep because of Biter''s whimpering.


    Their exhaustion was visible. Scratch''s party too, had grown weary from their long journey, so the day was declared a rest day. Only a few chores would be attended to, setting up the quicklime again, improving the water distillery, and preparing food.


    It was impossible for Biter to stand on his left foot, it was too damaged to withstand contact with anything. Nevertheless, he tried to hop around on one leg to keep an eye on, and assist, his brothers and friends. Scratch ordered him to lay down in bed and try to fall asleep, but before that they cleaned his foot and wrapped it in supple treated horse skin.


    -


    The access to a relatively large supply of properly tanned skin opened up a great many possibilities for the welfare of the tribe. Previously they had collected the steam from the distillery using an old piece of cloth, the largest one they had been able to cut out of the dead woman''s clothing. With access to new materials they were able to construct a much larger distillery, it consisted of a stone basin, with a space for fire underneath and the skins hung up above it, diagonally, to guide the water droplet towards a large clay vase.


    Scratch had even tried to create a waterskin, but it had been a failure, the water would leak out of the seams. For now, if they wanted to travel anywhere, they would continue to need to find sources of drinkable water on their route.


    Carrying water was still unfeasible.


    Building a straw roof for the distillery would have to wait, it didn''t seem like it would rain soon anyway.


    -


    Some other resources harvested from the half dozen horse carcasses the bandits had left for them were their bones and hooves. Bones of larger prey they had used before, the femur of a monstrous deer was propping up a corner of the distillery. Smaller bones they could use to create charcoal.


    Since there wasn''t much used for bones after they''d been cooked to create broth currently, they smashed up the larger horse bones and used them in the charcoal kiln with the smaller bones.


    The horshoes were like funnily shaped iron nuggets, they could be heated up and beaten into shape, the blacksmithing hut held a brick oven that existed for the sole purpose of heating up to the point where even these solid things would become workable.


    <hr>


    "Hey there champ. How''re you holding up?"


    Scratch was visiting Biter on his sickbed in one of the deeper rooms. Kicker and Quiet were also there to bring him something to eat.


    "It still hurts. I... I can''t think about anything else." Biter whined, teary eyed.


    "It''ll heal eventually. But for that you need to sleep."


    "I can''t."


    Then Scratch began to sing for him. A lullaby. A song from his previous world.


    Try not to get worried


    Try not to turn on to


    Problems that upset you, oh


    Don''t you know?


    Everything''s alright yes


    Everything''s fine


    And we want you to sleep well tonight


    Let the world turn without you tonight


    If we try we''ll get by


    So forget all about us tonight~


    He stroked his hair while doing so, in order to distract from his pain and bring him comfort.


    It took a full hour of care before he was soothed enough to drift into sleep.


    <hr>


    That evening it was finally time for Scratch to sit down with his pipe.


    It was a large object and he rested the head on the ground while he sat on a log with the mouthpiece in his mouth.


    A glowing stick from the fire was enough to light the dried blue grass and soon glittering smoke whisped out of the pipe head. Scratch sucked at his end to get the smoke in his lungs, after a few powerful breaths he managed to do so.


    Finally you find time for me.


    Scratch was a little startled by Cyclophan''s voice and quickly coughed up the material in order to say something.


    "*Cough* I''ve had a lot to deal with. More monsters?"


    You do not need to speak physically, if you direct your thoughts at me while smoking the grass I can hear you.


    Like this?


    Like that. Exactly, that''ll keep our conversations private. Now, what have you done for me lately?


    What have I done for you? What have you done for me?


    I have made you my champion! You know, there''s plenty that have sworn eternal servitude for that honor alone.


    From you?


    Uh, listen, I''m storing up power okay? But it''d go a lot quicker if the dungeon got a bit more care.


    What dungeon? We don''t have a dungeon.


    Exactly.


    ...What?


    Let''s see... How do I explain this to a creature that can not perceive magical energy... Let me start at the beginning.


    Oh. Goodie.


    The world is filled with magical energy, it flows from the heavens into the rest of the world and out.


    Out?


    Yes. It just... seeps out into the void, away.


    Unless someone like you catches it, right?


    No. Always. I... will you just let me finish, please?


    Okay okay, go right ahead.


    So there''s this constant flow of magical energy, and the way magic is performed is by diverting the flow and letting it go through in a controlled manner. Like a... like a watermill, do you know what a watermill is?


    I do know what a mill is yes. You''re comparing the flow to a water flow, a river or canal.


    Right, so magic users catch magical energy and release it in such a way that it has to create what they wanted to happen in order to continue flowing to outside of reality. Magic that''s stored in an inert form is called mana, and that''s what I''m trying to collect, mana. So you see, I need a dungeon.


    Right... you skipped a few steps there.


    How so?


    How dungeons relate to gathering mana? Do you want to extract it from prisoners or something?


    Wh- Oh, no. Dungeons aren''t prisons. Dungeons are elaborate labyrinths of monsters and traps.


    I...is that right? And those traps...


    No, those are just to protect the core, I guess we don''t need too many if we want to stay a secret. Wait, let me go back to magical energy.


    Scratch shifted his weight and took in a few breaths of fresher air in-between the smoke in preparation for the continued lesson.


    Magical energy doesn''t spread out evenly. I need a clear path to the sky in order for any decent amount to reach me, solid material blocks it out. But a good structure will help divert even more of it towards me, if you''d break down that front wall and use the bricks to line the tunnel sides, less of it would flow off and I''d receive a more concentrated stream.


    There''s no way we''re tearing down the house for that.


    It''s very common for dungeons to have a wide front entrance.


    I said no.


    Just improving the walls is a start. Then there''s flora and fauna, if there''s a progression of increasing magical affinity in the lifeforms from the outside towards the core, then that would help guide the flow too.


    I''m getting a very clear image. You want a a big underground fortress populated with monsters.


    Yes please.


    I suppose we can make some concessions, we''ll give you some tunnel walls, I guess better doors for the side rooms will prevent it from flowing off too. But I need you to keep up your part of the agreement.


    I can''t currently evolve you.


    I meant more the ''taking care of the community'' part. First of all, do away with your slime monsters.


    The slimes? They''re not under my control, those things live in this forest naturally.


    You''re kidding me.


    No. They must have been attracted to all your waste and corpses. They''re weak anyway, you just need to keep eye out. Use fire.


    Hold up, did you just mention our waste? As Scratch directed that thought the blue grass was almost entirely burnt up, and he had to huff and puff a bit more zealously to get Cyclophan''s response.


    Yeah, totally. Slimes eat poop. You should probably make a dedicated latrine pit, so there aren''t any surpises. Then again... slimes are pretty magical... d''you think you can-


    Scratch coughed up the last gasps of smoke he had in his lungs. There were still some embers in the pipe, he inhaled deep for some parting words.


    I''m turning in now, and I don''t want any weird dreams.


    Don''t forget you promised me more goblin defenders.


    I''ll get them. Good-


    Not just a one-time addition. It needs to be sustainable, you need a breeding woman.


    Good night, Cyclophan.


    With that Scratch went to bed. His dreams were not tampered with by any evil god, but they could conceivably be considered weird. They were memories of his time on earth, trafficking slaves.


    <hr>


    "We are refugees, we have nothing left." The woman cringed away from his imposing form while she said it, but still stood in front of her scared young daughter.


    "We have prepared for that, do not worry. Your debt can be paid off to us with a few months of service." He answered in her own language, it was a great benefit being able to properly converse with the cargo. It made calming them down easier. "Don''t worry. You''re safe now."


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The woman visibly relaxed, but she was still on edge. The immediate panic after being asked for payment subsided, it was replaced by a general unease about her and her daughter''s future. Both of them had fled from a war-torn country, to them, anything was would be better than the bombings of their home. They might even hold some illusions about becoming citizens and living a normal life in the country or one day returning when the war was over. Better to not attack those hopes, it would only make the examination more difficult.


    "Step into the office, there''s nothing to worry about, we just want to check if you''re healthy."


    He spoke with authority and projected a friendly aura, she had nobody to cling to in this strange world but him, so she did what he asked.


    "One at a time, please." He held back the daughter while the mother went to see the doctor. "Don''t worry, I''ll keep an eye on your girl here."


    "Mama, mama!"


    "Zarya, stay with the nice man, you understand? I''ll be back soon."


    The mother had the door closed behind her, and he kneeled to talk to the girl. "Zarya, is it? Your mom will only be away for a minute. Would you like some candy?"


    She nodded shyly.


    -


    He sat together with Zarya while her mother was with the doctor.


    "Did you come here all alone with your mommy?"


    She nodded.


    "Did you have any friends that traveled with you?"


    She shook her head.


    "What does your daddy do for a living?"


    She put on a brave face. "My daddy is a policeman."


    "A policeman, my my. And your mommy stays home to care of you?"


    "Yup."


    "You must be very close."


    "Yup"


    "Ah, there she is, your mother''s back!"


    The mother walked out of the doctor''s office with wide eyes and a shocked expression, but came down to earth when her daughter ran in to hug her.


    -


    "Talk to me doc, any complications?" He took the man aside while the women was doting on her little girl.


    "No STD''s, no genital mutilation. She was very uncomfortable during the examination, I don''t know what she said, but I don''t think anybody but her husband has ever seen her naked."


    "A housewife, working class household, isolated from their peers." He recounted his recent inquiry. "Perfect for our purposes. Examine the girl next."


    "What for?"


    "For whatever conceivably could be wrong with her. You want to keep your practice, don''t you? Then do as I say. Zarya, you''re next, come on."


    The mother looked reluctant to let the girl go, but relented to appease the nice man.


    Before the examination the doctor gave him a piercing look. "What will happen to the girl?"


    "The girl already has a buyer. It''s not your concern. Starting next month we''ll be leading greater quantities of people through here, you''re being payed handsomely not to ask questions."


    The doctor scoffed and went inside.


    The human trafficker thought about it. There''s no complications for the mother to sell her body. She isn''t particularly attractive, but she''s not ugly either. The daughter I can deliver to those mad scientists, somehow I''m getting more out of that than the whorehouse. If I really want to generate a good cashflow I should work more closely with those people, but the refugee stream doesn''t bring a stable supply of children, I have to research other ways to get my hands on the underage. He laughed, thinking about the syndicate''s rules against hurting children. They''d turn a blind eye once they''d find out the return on investments for the trade.


    He opened the door to the end of the hall, where his hired muscle was waiting and gave him a nod. The man came in to drag the woman away towards her buyer.


    "Wait? Where are you taking me? Zarya''s still... Tell them that my daughter-" She started to panic while being dragged off.


    He looked at her without emotion on his face. What a pitiful creature, to have such attachments to matters she does not have power over. She would never see her daughter again. It seemed natural to him, she was a weak being in a predatory world. Feeling sorry for her would be like feeling sorry over ice melting.


    <hr>


    The next day Scratch and Fat loaded up a pot with gold nuggets and set out to meet with the bandits.


    Scratch had asked them to reserve time for him because he had had a very keen insight into their current situation. But he wanted to hear it from them directly.


    -


    "I understand that soon you''ll be escorting an unregistered trading caravan through these forests." Scratch said, legs crossed, perched on a human-sized chair.


    Lydia Harkness glanced at Huckabee and Dee, who were giving her apologetic grins. "That''s exactly right."


    "And you''re doing this as a favor towards an organization called "the Thieves'' Guild''."


    "We are."


    Scratch leaned forward. "But you''re not getting anything out of it, are you?"


    She sighed. "We trade with the thieves for every modern comfort we have. They''re our only link to the outside world. Without them, we''d have to live like savages."


    "But... you''re not getting anything out of it... in terms of citizenship. Are you?"


    She gave her subordinates another poisonous look, then she relented. "No. We''re not."


    "Great. I mean, not great. I''m here to offer a solution."


    At Scratch''s cue Fat tilted the heavy pot of gold and spilled the contents on the floor.


    "Whaaa!" Huckabee and Dee were flabbergasted, but Lydia kept her composure.


    "What is this?" The bandit leader asked.


    "It''s a loan. Given out in the name of Clyde Beatty, goblin tamer."


    "Even if it was a gift, it''s hardly an incentive to cut ties with the thieves."


    "Not cut ties." Scratch sighed, like he was dealing with a slow student. "Right now the thieves buy directly from the smugglers, both the smuggler and the Thieves'' Guild profit, while the bandits are left to work for free. I''m telling you to insert yourself into the line, buy from the smuggler, move the goods, and sell to the guild at your own terms. The loan is some investment capital to get the ball rolling, no interest."


    The bandit leader bit her lip, what the goblin was suggesting would surely antagonize their partners. "We''re dependent on the Guild''s goodwill."


    "Even more reason to shift the power imbalance to your favor, isn''t it?"


    -


    She crossed her legs and put her hand under her chin. They had camped out in these woods for years and never made progress, but gambling on the lives of what was left of her group would be callous. She looked at Huckabee and Dee, who were still mesmerized by the sheer amount of gold. They had lost so many, maybe it was time to change tactics.


    "Get a merchants'' scale in here." She said. "We''re quantifying the amount."


    <hr>


    "What is this thing for?" Fat asked.


    "It''s for counting." Dee explained, while they were laying gold coins on one end of the balance and nuggets on the other. "Every gold coin weighs about the same, so they''re all worth the same. If we can get the balance to stay horizontal, we know how much coins worth of gold is at the other end. That way, eventually, we can write down how many gold you''ve loaned us."


    "You mean how many Clyde has loaned you." Said Scratch. "Every coin weighs the same? Exactly?"


    "It used to be..." Lydia was concentrating on the scale with her tongue out of her mouth. "...that different countships had differently sized coins... but they all grew towards each other to make it easier."


    Scratch held up a coin, on one end a winged deer could be seen, on the other a shield with a rose. The thing was small, about the breadth of his thumb in diameter.


    "I can tell what you''re thinking." Lydia said tenuously letting go of the scale. "People sometimes do shave off gold from the edge of the coins. But that''s what merchants'' scales were invented for. For checking if the coins payed were actually as much gold as they seemed. Huck, write down nine more for this pile." She put the nuggets aside on the "counted" pile.


    -


    They spend a long time counting their money like this.


    "When would mister Beatty like his money back?" Lydia asked.


    "Whenever you can, it''s fine." Scratch answered. "You can pay us back in installments if that''s easier. I''ll take personal responsibility for this, but it must be returned in natura as much as possible."


    Natura meant goods and services, rather than currency. It was a liability to have too much precious metal at the cave, but products such as the bandits used were more than welcome.


    Fat held his breath, he knew of a service they would like to be payed back in. "Can you come heal someone again?"


    "I''m so sorry." The bandit leader stated. "Our only healer is only just replenishing his mana from the last battle, and I have to give priority to my own people, in case anything happens to them soon. Nothing too bad has happened, I hope?"


    Scratch calmed both their fears. "Nothing permanent. A slime injury, I''m sure it''ll heal in a few days."


    "That''s good."


    -


    Eventually they had their amounts.


    "Ugh. Now I have to add all these together." Huckabee groaned. "That''s going to take me all night."


    "Let me see." Scratch rolled his eyes and grabbed the piece of crumbly low-tech paper. He was glad to see normal numbers and letters, it was to be expected with how the language was lifted from earth, but you never knew. "There''s a trick to this, give me your pencil."


    Nonplussed, Huckabee handed him the stick of graphite.


    "If you write the numbers above each other like this..." He performed the actions as he described them. "...you can then add the digits together vertically. See? That''s 49, so you carry the four, that''s en extra digit for the next column..." Eventually he came with the total amount. "So you get 189. Get it?"


    "No..."


    "Poor Huckabee wasn''t trained to be a merchant." Dee laughed. "None of us were, but that''s rather impressive."


    "Well, I am impressive." Scratch twirled the writing implement, proud of his basic math skills.


    "Can you teach me?" Fat asked.


    "Eventually I should teach everyone numbers and letters, but we have other things to do first."


    Lydia nodded. "I have mentioned the culling to the Thieves'' Guild. They say the Adventurers'' Guild is kicking off the culling even 8 days from today."


    Scratch dropped the pencil. "Oh! I mean, oh, you''ve got regular contact with the city, do you?"


    "Yeah." Huckabee said. "We''ve got a dove till. So we can exchange letters pretty freely."


    "That''s great, that''s good. In fact, you should tell them about the buyout. Come, Fat, we''ve still got to take the pot back. Let''s say our goodbyes."


    <hr>


    It didn''t take long for the goblins to exit the premises.


    Huckabee stood next to Harkness to watch them leave. "Beatty didn''t kill those orcs, did he?"


    "He did not." His boss answered. "Two heroes stumbled upon them at the riverbed and wiped them out, they reported it to the Adventurers'' Guild."


    "It makes sense. A tamer that strong wouldn''t bother with goblins. Beatty probably relies on bluff to protect his mine."


    "I disagree." Harkness said, looking at the piece of paper with the arithmetic on it. "I don''t think Clyde Beatty exists at all."


    "Does that mean you have no intention of paying back the loan."


    "It does NOT mean that. First of all, I may not look like much now, but I still take pride in the Harkness name."


    "S-sorry, I didn''t me-"


    "Second of all, I have a feeling that aligning with Scratch is going to benefit us in ways that can''t be expressed in gold."


    She handed him the paper. "Go double-check the numbers."


    <hr>


    "Barbara? Why can''t you just take it easy?"


    George was trying to reason with his colleague. She had burst into the hidden part of the casino and was demanding to see the owner.


    "Shut up STABLE BOY, go back to your... stable."


    "Barbs, I''m guarding the owner, and he doesn''t want to see you. So just- Wait guys, no." His fellow door guards were approaching, ready to beat down the intruder, but George stood in-between the two parties. "She''s with the guild. She''s just- Barbara, you''ve been with the goblins so long, you need to-"


    "I don''t need anything. I need to talk to Mac."


    As if summoned by the mention of his name, Mac, one of the more successful members of the Thieves'' Guild, burst out of the office. He was a shriveled up prune of a man, ancient, but still tall with a straight back. His fingers and neck were adorned with a cumbersome amount of precious jewelry. "What''s with the commotion? Can''t you buffoons guard a simple entrance?"


    "Mackie! Be a dear and call off your monkeys, will you?"


    "I will not. I don''t know who you are, but I''ll have them teach you a lesson for breaking into-"


    One of the men whispered something into his ear.


    "Oh, well, you''re with the guild at least. Then they can just throw you out with a warning."


    "Dammit, I''m her to negotiate, I''m..." She clenched her teeth and rolled her eyes. "...also here in Mabel''s name."


    "Oh! You''re Mabel''s sister! Why didn''t you say so from the start? Boys, let her go. She''s friends with one of your boss'' connections, come in, come in."


    -


    By namedropping her sister Barbara could enter the crimelord''s private office, even though she loathed to do it.


    "Now then..." The man seated himself behind his oversized desk. "...what is it Mabel has said?"


    "Me and Mabel..." Barbara started. "...are making you an offer you can not refuse."


    "Are you? I''m all ears."


    Barbara was a bit surprised at his open attitude. Didn''t he realize this concerned a powerplay within the highest levels of the Thieves'' Guild?


    "The smuggler''s route has been blocked off for a week now, the bandits are too scared to act with the orcs there, and once the general public learns off the horde it''ll send military troops to patrol for at least three more months."


    Mac cocked his head to the side.


    "Th-..." Barbara was at a loss to his questioning response. "That means your biggest industry is knocked on its ass.


    You can''t pay your monkeys, you can''t do your loansharking... you..."


    A silence hung between them.


    "...you need our protection!" Barbara blurted out, loudly, to break through the mysterious tension in the air. "If you swear loyalty, you can be part of the new Guild order!"


    Mac rested his elbows on his desk and played with his many rings. "Oh, Bardana..."


    "Barbara."


    "Barbara... how long did you hold the ambition to challenge the leadership? Hhm? Were you ever loyal? Is Mabel part of this?"


    "What? I... you have no choice. The orcs-"


    "The orcs, Barbie, were killed two days ago by high-level adventurers."


    The world fell away around Barbara. "Wh-"


    "Oh, yes. The smuggling route is better than ever, why, only this week we received that fairy dust from a friend of your brother-in-law''s. You didn''t think we had been keeping that stuff in our warehouses for long, did you? We shipped out immediately." Mac gave a joyless grin. "Your friend Mac isn''t going anywhere, now tell me... how involved was your sister in this plot?"


    George and another enforcer were suddenly standing on either of Barbara''s side. Mac had used some unknown means to summon them into the room.


    <hr>


    Thieves'' Guilds


    Thieves'' Guilds are criminal organizations, not recognized by the kingdom, that control the industry of forbidden goods and services. Most medium sized and larger cities have a Thieves'' Guild. It is not unheard of that a single Thieves'' Guild has a presence in multiple cities. At the same time, a single city can often have multiple competing Thieves'' Guilds.


    It is said that, just like the Adventurers'' Guild, the first Thieves'' Guild was founded by a hero of legend. However, by design, most things about Thieves'' Guilds are shrouded in mystery.


    Among adventurers there are differing opinions on the role of Thieves'' Guilds in society. Some groups believe they are organized evil, and help criminals get away with their crimes, others believe they are a way for criminals to self-police and suppress the worst elements of the underworld. Whatever the case, associating with Thieves'' Guild members is not grounds for automatic expulsion from the Adventurers'' Guild, nor is past membership, but one can not be simultaneously a Thieves'' Guild member and an adventurer. Adventurers have a duty to report knowledge of criminal activity to the authorities.

 Breed

    Here''s my plan. Cyclophan posited.


    Oh boy, here we go.


    You haven''t even heard it yet.


    No, no. Go right ahead.


    So you were talking about setting up a snatching spree-


    Can you hear anything I say?


    In the cave, yes. I can hear it through the wyrm shard. But I can also hear every lie in this world as it''s being told.


    You can what?!


    I''m a god.


    Okay, given. That''s still pretty powerful.


    Well... maybe it''ll inspire you to show some deference.


    Uh-huh.


    ...The snatching spree. I want you to bring some chickens.


    The goal is mainly human women.


    I know. But you''ll be raiding farms anyway, and chickens I can evolve into more cockatrices. Think about it, you can breed a whole flock of them.


    That''s a good idea. I''ll keep it in mind. Well, goodbye-


    Wait. One more thing. Not just any chicken will do.


    What are you talking about?


    I can''t make a creature closer to divinity than it already is. So the chicken has to have the potential to become as powerful as a cockatrice by itself.


    ...


    What are you talking about?


    How do I put this. The cockatrice you''re eating the eggs from every morning?


    Tiresias. Yes.


    She carried a potential inside herself, even before she became a cockatrice.


    Not the potential to turn people to stone, surely.


    No, I diverted it into a different kind of power. If properly trained, Tiresias could have developed higher strength and combat capability. She had a level of divinity, however small, that I was able to exploit. I turned her into a creature that was no more powerful than she could feasibly become. That''s how evolution works.


    So you can only uplift creatures to their maximum potential.


    That''s right. However, you''d be surprised how much potential even a weak animal can have.


    So what kind of chicken should I look out for?


    A big one. As long as it''s big, it''ll be alright. Also, you might want a rooster, to get chicks.


    Scratch was about to put away the pipe, but he had a thought. Having more monsters in your tunnel diverts more magic your way, doesn''t it?


    Y-yeah. You guessed my ulterior motive.


    Are the side walls not enough?


    Currently the goblins were busy with two major construction projects. One was a latrine pit, the other was the interior design of the tunnel.


    The slope downwards was tiled with hewn stone stair steps and the exposed walls between the scaffold supports was covered with birch wood planks. Besides helping divert the flow of magic it gave a home-like feel to an area that already led down in-use rooms and mines.


    A bit more never hurts.


    I''ll give you your monster coop. But with all that magic stacking up, I expect to be evolved soon. You hear?


    Scratch put away the pipe. With the new information about the limitations of evolution he had to adjust his expectations. Still, the alliance with Cyclophan was probably a net positive, for now.


    <hr>


    Mabel was despondent. She had spend a whole day distancing herself from the actions of her sister, who had landed herself into trouble when it turned out their plan was based on outdated information. Various guild members had approached her about the subject, even Mac himself had shown up in person. She had had to thoroughly rebuke and disown her own sister.


    She had succeeded, but it was still a stressful time.


    And now she had to spend the rest of the day baby-sitting a connection of her husband. The spoiled Tanner boy from a western barony.


    "Give me a healing potion." Tanner whined, as if the substance was cheap to come by.


    "You have already been healed." She sussed him. "You just need to wait for the pain to disappear."


    He pouted in self pity. "That damn Nightshade guy. I''ll get him next time."


    She knew it was expected of her to stay respectful, but she couldn''t help criticize the young adult. "What were you thinking challenging an adventurer of his caliber to a duel? Be glad he didn''t find out about your contraband at least."


    He didn''t look at her. "How dare he... Doesn''t even remember my name..."


    Mabel exasperated and turned around, throwing her hands up.


    Right at that moment there came a knock on the door.


    Thank Geros. Mabel praised the earth god in her mind. Some distraction.


    The distraction in question was her husband, taking some time off from his busy schedule to check up on them.


    "How''s my lowblood peasant shark of a wife doing?" He cooed.


    She kissed him on the cheek. "Waiting for her dishonored posh noble of a husband to show up."


    For a marriage of convenience their relationship was reasonably affable.


    "Mister Harkness." Sebastian stood up to properly address a noble of equal rank. "I have suffered the most ignoble humiliation by the hands of-"


    "Sebastian, friend, sit down. I''ve heard about your little encounter." Harkness laughed. "I''d be hard not to, it''s the talk of the town."


    Sebastian breathed in through his nose in indignation.


    "But currently," his host continued, "there is the issue with my sister-in-law. She has transgressed seriously against the guild, and used our name..." he touched his wife''s shoulder when he said that, "... to do so. So you understand it''s a delicate issue that requires most of our attention."


    Sebastian fell back on his chair.


    "Our trader will arrive in tomorrow." Mabel said. "Then we can supply you with the requested item. Until then, please, stay out of the way of adventurers."


    <hr>


    "Well?" Scratch stood on top of an upturned clout of earth to see overhead the goblin horde. "Is everybody here?"


    The goblins scrambled to find their assigned partners. Scratch had paired them off so it would become clear when somebody was missing.


    The current collection was made up out of goblins from different tribes.


    The cave goblins were represented by Scratch himself, Kicker, Second and Dumb.


    The hill goblins had contributed six warriors and the river goblins five.


    After a full day of travel it was time to take a rest and count heads.


    "Everybody''s here." Dumb relayed after it had been established.


    "Okay, good. Put on your helmets."


    The headgear was distributed from the sled. They had struggled to gather enough iron, and had even had to convert some pans in order to outfit everyone. However, Scratch considered it a necessity for his plan. The head is the most important part of the body to defend against injury, and with a goblin it was the closest thing within a human''s arm''s reach.


    The helmets had iron plating on the outside to ward of damage, and soft fur on the inside to soften the impact. They weren''t shaped perfectly to the head and mostly protected the top of the skull.


    Dumb nudged Scratch, who was still standing on an elevated position, in the thigh. "Tell them the plan."


    "Right. Everyone!" He clapped his hands. "Just beyond here is a farmhouse. Where humans live. In a few moments we''re going to drop in and take some things. Now. This isn''t going to be a spur of the moment snatching spree, this is a deliberate plan of attack. So we''re going to assign some task forces..."


    <hr>


    Wilfred let himself down in his old rocking chair. He rubbed his painful ankle.


    "Will you go see a healer ''bout that?" His wife, Sara, admonished him.


    He grunted noncommittally. He had expected the goblin''s bite to heal in a few days, but it had been months now. It didn''t seem to worsen at least, the bite mark had simply healed wrong.


    "They never did send anybody over did they?" Sara wondered aloud.


    Wilfred grunted disapprovingly.


    She continued "They must''ve thought it''ll be fine, what with the culling. But they''re not the ones living all the way out here."


    An agreeing grunt came from Wilfred.


    "Darling, will you say something?"


    "Say what?"


    Before a marital dispute could break out there came the sound of shattering glass and a scream from their daughter.


    "Pumpkin? Pumpkin!?" Both parents jumped up and ran towards the room of their young daughter lain to rest.


    The girl was sitting curled up on her bed, on the floor was a rock surrounded by shards of glass from her small window.


    Sara immediately stepped over the glass to pick up her child. The girl was beyond the age where she would normally be carried around, but with the glass covered floor and the intensity of the situation the rules were different.


    "Sara, wake Jonas up and take Letta to the basement. There''s somebody out there." Wilfred took charge to defend the home, he immediately entered the kitchen grabbed the biggest knife they had.


    "Mommy..." Letta grabbed her mother in a helpless gesture that was unbecoming of her age.


    "Your father will take care of it, let''s sit in front of the fire for a bit. Okay pumpkin?" Her mother stroked her hair.


    Despite her comforting words Sara was concerned herself. Normally the most dangerous thing in these lands were the occasional gaggles of goblin one could encounter when strolling the woods. What could be coming to people''s houses and attacking them? Bandits? Perhaps a migrating orc band? She could only hope it turned out to be nothing more than teenage hooligans from another farm.


    <hr>


    When Wilfred stepped out of the house the world was pitch black. Streaks of yellow firelight poured from his house, illuminating only the ground close by. In the distance he could see small humanoid figures, glowing eyes piercing their silhouette, staying carefully out of the light.


    His fourteen year old son Jonas exited behind him, still groggy from sleep and not saying anything. He was holding a broom.


    Wilfred squinted into the darkness. "Who is there? Show yourself."


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Who indeed?" The voice coming out of the dark was balanced and articulate, but high-pitched, like a young boy.


    Wilfred grasped his knife tighter. It sounded too coherent for a goblin.


    "Don''t you have any others sons? Where are they?" The figure in the darkness inquired.


    "Inside." Wilfred bluffed. "And they''re trained adventurers, both of them."


    "So you don''t then." The figure noted, he whispered something to one of his compatriots, who ran off. Wilfred almost jumped at the sudden movement.


    "Why don''t you put down the knife, we wouldn''t want anybody to get hurt."


    "Yeah?" Wilfred stepped backwards towards the house, pushing back his son. "Well maybe I do. Maybe I want to put the hurt on some snot nosed hooligans throwing in my windows." He wasn''t backing away from the fight, he was getting a better defensive position on the front entrance. The dark figures weren''t drunk vandals, they had an insidious aura to them.


    Eventually the leader of the troupe stepped forward into the light, his arms spread as if it was a gesture of goodwill.


    The creature had some outward similarities to a goblin. It was short, with green skin. But its straight back, beige tunic and wide brimmed metal hat betrayed it as something else. One of its theatrically outstretched arms held a stone-tipped spear, in the yellow streaks of light only the lower half of its face was illuminated, the eyes were obscured by the dark shadow of his hat, though one of them shone menacingly in the dark.


    "What can we call you?" The goblin creature called out to him.


    "I''m Wilfred. And this is MY farm dammit! Who''re you lot then?" Cold sweat broke out in Wilfred neck. The enemy was too calm.


    "Wilfred. You like living out here? Can''t be easy, with all the monsters giving you trouble."


    The creature''s words didn''t make any sense. Monsters were found everywhere, in fact, this was one of the lowest level zones on the continent.


    "What monsters?" The farmer asked suspiciously.


    "Uh, well, goblins for example."


    "We ain''t got no trouble with goblins."


    The figure started chuckling. Some more open and loud laughter came from behind him. "Wilfred. I beg the differ."


    <hr>


    First kept his scratching under the metal plate on his head. "Don''t like." He complained about the headgear.


    In his own group First was the leader. But in the capturing task force he had to defer to the goblin called Dumb, it felt wrong.


    It wasn''t the First hadn''t wanted to participate in the snatching. It was known that the cave goblins had an edge over the other tribes. Something as dangerous as a snatching would definitely become achievable with their special way of doing things.


    However, even if it was temporary, to an alpha male like First taking orders from anybody felt like a demotion. And it didn''t help that Dumb was so insistent on maintaining authority.


    "Keep it on." Dumb hissed. "And keep a lookout. When we get the message-"


    At that moment the cave goblin called Second appeared. "Scratch says there''s no more fighters in the house and we should go."


    "Okay, let''s go." Before Dumb had finished his short sentence the rest of the task force had already gotten up and was storming the house.


    <hr>


    Nestor hadn''t grown up as a kid wanting to be a smuggler.


    Like all young boys he had fantasized about becoming an adventurer. Later, when his vision of the future became more grounded, he had expected to inherit his father''s farm and take care of the land.


    The gods had other things in store for him. A few bad years, monster raids, poor weather, had bankrupted them and he had been left destitute.


    For years he had been peddling cheap trinkets before catching a break. Smuggling for the thieves'' guilds payed his dues, it kept him clothed and fed. If there was ever a time that he would feel guilty about going against the kingdom''s laws, that time was long passed now.


    The pay was good, it was safer than adventuring, he didn''t have to worry about internal city politics, and he got to see parts of the world. Currently he was in one of the east-most places known to man.


    It didn''t look any different than any other temperate biome.


    Travel to Eston was always mind-numbingly boring. There were no sights, no people. The closest baron''s residence was days of travel away, nothing but dirt farmers could be found in Eston.


    That''s why he had a slight relief in his chest hearing the local group would meet him halfway and buy the goods at the border.


    However, besides relieving it was also slightly disconcerting. "What''s changed?" He asked the horseman.


    "Uh..." The bandit wasn''t a particularly bright looking fellow, his jaw drooped as he tried to formulate a coherent thought. "So... we''re selling it again in the city. We''re inserting ourselves into the line."


    This gave Nestor pause. The bandit recognized his unease and realized he had said something stupid.


    "Is there some struggle for control going on?" Nestor asked slowly.


    "No! Well... a bit." The bandit adjusted his scarf nervously.


    If the Eston thieves'' guild had a schism with their bandits, then dealing with the rebels could antagonize the leadership.


    His own employers wouldn''t be happy about that.


    Then again, he could hardly turn around with his caravan, and the bandits did control the forest not part of the magical witchwood, encompassing all possible smuggling routes.


    Nestor put up a fake smile. "Ah. I guess it''s none of my business. Go and tell your boss all special requested items have been accounted for, and I''ll wait here at the border."


    "Y-yeah. Will do." The bandit said relieved, as he galloped off into the night.


    Nestor shook is head. And I thought I''d gotten away from politics.


    <hr>


    Dumb, followed by eight goblins, most of whom of the river group, bashed out the remaining glass in the broken window with the end of a flat plank.


    Then he agily laid a plank over the window sill and ran over it through the opening in a continuous movement.


    One for one they landed on the bed and jumped on the floor, avoiding most of the shards.


    "Be silent." Dumb ordered, not silently at all.


    The door of the room was already half open and lead to a short hallway.


    The task force sneaked through one after the other, and encountered a branching path.


    Where the room they had entered through had a little candle by the side of the bed, here the entire floor was bathed in orange light by the hearth fire pouring through from under the door across from them.


    To their right was a half-opened door leading to another empty bedrooms, and to their left the kitchen, which led to the front entrance. In their hurry to respond to the provocation the humans had left the doors wide open, and First could see the backs of their defenders.


    "You, you and you." Dumb pointed to First, Swim and Blink. He knew their names but he decided to just point. "Stay here." And he gestured for them to wait behind the corners. They had to keep guard for if the men of the house went inside again.


    <hr>


    Jonas looked at his father uncomfortably. The man was too proud to let the monsters walk over them, but they had no idea how many there were, or even what threat level they were.


    "W-" Jonas got a lump in his throat, turning to the enemy. "What do you want?"


    "That''s a good question lad." The leader said warmly, lowering his arms and resting the bottom of his spear on the ground. "You see, we''re very destitute beings. And we couldn''t help but notice your house, full of just the kind of things we need. We''d like to make it ours if you don''t mind."


    "What!" His father screamed. It was not a question.


    "No no. Of course you''d mind. That''s why we brought the weapons." The monster laughed as if the explanation would resolve things.


    "Don''t you think you can go around robbing people unpunished." Father roared in his fatherly, authoritative voice.


    "What an interesting thing to say, Wilfred." The creature said, still smiling warmly. "Are you trying to convince us to kill the witnesses?" He walked forwards, the rest of his troupe followed after him, a semicircle of almost a dozen of the goblin-like creatures stepped into the yellow light, casting stark black shadows and darkening the ground.


    "Creatures like us, you know, have precious little to lose." The leader proclaimed, his inflection betraying no anger or adrenaline. "We''re already kill-on-sight." He raised his head to reveal a makeshift eye patch, the scar of his ruined eye extended outside the covered area and touched his temple, it was horizontal and thin, like the entry mark of a hoe.


    Jonas lost his nerve at the enclosing horde and jumped forward, swinging at the leader with the broom handle.


    The smooth treated wood struck down on the creature''s head, making a cracking sound. Exactly the part protected by metal.


    At that point the fighting become chaotic. The goblins dove in on the duo like ants, combating the wild swinging of their weapons with overhelming stabs from every direction.


    The farmer and his son were sliced and cut at their various extremities and almost fell over their own feet backing into the hallway.


    A loud clang came from inside, and Jonas'' mother screamed.


    "Sara!" His fathered yelled, forgetting his own fear and turning around.


    As the farmer sprinted back into the hall his shins were bashed by wooden clubs, knocking his legs out from under him and making him bust his jaw on the thinly carpeted floor.


    It was an ambush in his own home. The three goblins waiting around the corners quickly jumped on him to restrain his limbs, wrestling the knife out of his hand.


    <hr>


    "George, please, listen to me. It doesn''t have to be this way." Barbara pleaded with her fellow thieves'' guild member.


    The younger man tried to ignore her as he stood in front of the underground cell.


    It was night in Eston. She had been locked away in a hidden dungeon for half a day while negotiations went on on the surface. She had expected her more successful sister to plead her out, but once evening had rolled around, it became clear that Mabel had disavowed her.


    "George. George." Barbara''s voice went up in pitch to that of a little girl, projecting an aura of helplessness.


    George sighed. "Do we really need to do this?" He asked his fellow guard.


    The enormous man heaved and let out a deep and rumbling voice. "You''s girlfriend tried to pull a sneaky on us. Y''know the rap, leadership can''t show weakness. ''Sides, can''t keep her around inna city y''know, ''cause she knows to much about the guild."


    What the man said was true of course. The guild could only operate by projecting power, and disgraced members were a big liability for a criminal organization.


    At that moment the captive''s brother-in-law opened the door leading to the small dungeon. "We''re moving out. Nestor''s caravan is arriving soon, we can give her to the bandits then."


    "Mister Harkness!" Barbara took a break from sulking for more pleading. "Please tell them that this is all a mis-"


    "Gag her." The man ordered.


    Barbara kicked and screamed as the guards restrained and gagged her again. Her wild resistance distracted them from properly frisking her and finding the small vial of mana toxin still hidden underneath the folds of her clothes. She didn''t know how yet, but she was going to use it to make a daring escape.


    "We can kill her ou''selves ain''t it?" the large thief posited.


    "Don''t be silly, Zell." The disgraced knight answered. "We''d be stuck with a body. Getting rid of prisoners is exactly the kind of thing that we keep the bandits around for."


    After all of that the trio dragged her away, to be handled by the bandits.


    <hr>


    "What a strange home." Scratch said, climbing up in a rocking chair while some of the other goblins where jumping on the couch.


    The rightful residents where on their knees on the living room floor, rope binding their wrists behind their back. They had given up struggling some moments ago, the father only after being severely bruised.


    "You don''t know anything." Dumb said, feeling too smart to join in the couch jumping. "You brought way too many goblins."


    "There''s too few people here." Scratch murmured.


    He hadn''t been a history buff in his previous life, but he knew that medieval families were supposed to be large. A farmer should have at least three sons that had made it through the vulnerable stages of childhood to help him with the field work.


    Moreover, the rooms were too big. It was an English style house, carpeted on the inside, wooden walls and a big central hearth. It was reminiscent of the many bed-and-breakfast places on the British countryside. However, those places where heavily altered from their historical form. Often the barns and animal sections had been converted into housing. People from that time had lived in much smaller spaces.


    Scratch smacked his forehead. He was being foolish. It had been clear for months that this place wasn''t on earth, in any time. It was folly expecting it to conform to its inspiration in any detail.


    No, this world was obviously created. A little fantasy theme park with real magic and monsters. The creators wouldn''t enforce such rigid detail when the natural laws and economy were already so radically different.


    Taking a stroll through the one-family home that was being ransacked by goblins confirmed that there had never been more people in the residence. One bedroom with a shared bed for the parents, two bedrooms for the two children.


    The entire structure was a single-story and all rooms connected to the central hallway. The kitchen betrayed a diet that would be kingly to a real medieval peasant, meat, confectionery, ripe fruit in early spring. These things weren''t present in particularly great amounts, but their very presence alone was something to take note of.


    Then, in the bathroom, the biggest anachronism of all.


    "Toothbrushes." Scratch mumbled in astonishment. "Plastic toothbrushes."


    A twist on the handle showed that they weren''t quite like the ones he knew from earth. The material was more easily deformed. Rather, it seemed made of some sort of transparent non-sticky resin, molded into a toothbrush form.


    When he thought about it, the family did seem well groomed for isolated dirt-famers.


    His exploring was cut short by the sound of fighting in the living room.


    One of the goblins had tried to force himself on the young girl, and this had made the father go berserk.


    So now everybody was beating on the men of the house again.


    Scratch clapped in his hands. "Everybody. Calm down. Go gather up the loot, we''re leaving as soon as possible. And you-" He pointed at First, who had tried to breed with the girl. "Control yourself, that sort of thing comes later. Go and capture their chickens."


    When the goblins, inflamed with direction, spread out to take things, Scratch, flanked by Kicker and Dumb, went on to question the family.


    "I''m going to ask you as series of very simple questions. Just answer them truthfully and we won''t have a problem."


    "Go to hell, goblin." The father spit blood in his face.


    "You-" Kicker was about to attack, but Scratch held out his hand to stop him.


    He wiped the blood of his cheek and looked Wilfred in the eyes. "I understand your position, Wilfred. Don''t think I don''t sympathize. You''re the man of the house, you have to stand up to protect your family." Then he leaned in. "I''ll tell you right now that the best way to protect your family is to do as I say. You understand that, right?"


    Wilfred didn''t respond, but the look in his eyes seemed defeated.


    "Good." Scratch patted his cheek and stood up straight, he began walking past the faces of the kneeling prisoners. "Who owns this land?"


    "I do." Wilfred said weakly. The conversation was set against the background noise of his daughter softly whining.


    "Are you a noble?"


    "No. I am a farmer."


    Scratch nodded. Their society was completely different from that of feudal Europe. "Who do you pay taxes to?"


    Wilfred sounded hoarse. "The king."


    "Why?"


    "H-he''s the king."


    "Look!" The son interjected. "What do you want?"


    "No stupid questions." Scratch admonished him. "Now, how do you protect yourself against monsters?"


    The family fell silent. Perhaps from their perspective, that was a stupid question. Or they feared the answer would lead to another fight.


    "''vnturers." The son mumbled.


    "I''m sorry? What was that?"


    "He said adventurers." Second clarified. "The culling."


    "We get adventurers to clear out the goblins every year! Is that what you want to hear? We''re only defending our home."


    "Well, you''ve failed." Scratch commented. "And that''s it? That''s enough? None of you ever get captured?"


    "No."


    "Then where do the new goblins come from?" Scratch asked. He was getting agitated.


    "Failed adventurers and lost hikers." The boy said.


    "Jonas!" His mother protested.


    "Well it''s true! Stay in the forest and stick to the people there! That''s always been enough for you. If you''re ransacking farms, they won''t send adventurers. They''ll send the army!"


    A silence hung in the room after that outburst, the only noise being the little girl''s sobbing.


    Scratch smiled. "Thank you Jonas. That''ll do for now." He turned towards First of the river tribe, who had appeared and was standing besides him. "I''m guessing everything is loaded up."


    The goblin nodded.


    "Good, then we''re moving out. Before the neighbours come take a peek or something. Try not to rape them as you load them up by the way."


    First rolled his eyes as he and one of his brothers took the youngest, who started screaming again. Kicker and some others grabbed the mother, leaving the men behind.


    As they were about to leave Dumb stopped him. "What are we going to do about the army? What''s an army?"


    Scratch shrugged. "We''ll cross that bridge when we get there."


    "And these guys?"


    "Well, that depends. How about it guys? Any heroic rescue mission planned?"


    Jonas stared at the ground, his father looked at Scratch with a stare of intense hatred. "I will never rest monster, not until you and-"


    "Okay, you''ve convinced me." Scratch stated. "Kill them."


    <hr>


    Nobility


    There are four levels of nobility, each corresponds to a level or divinity and an adventuring rank.


    The lowest rank of nobility are the knights, who make up the king''s army. They are as exalted as D rank adventurers.


    Above that are the barons and baronesses, who look out over baronies and command the knighthood. They are as exalted as C rank adventurers.


    The counts and countesses, who control countships by setting trade regulations and commanding the barons in their territory, are as exalted as rank B adventurers.


    The duke families, that control the large duchies dividing up each nation, are as exalted as rank A adventurers.


    Lastly, the royal family of each nation is as powerful as a rank S adventurer.


    Households pay their taxes to the king. Although most of it stays under the control of their count and is used to finance public structures such as roads, castles and bridges, a significant portion is used to maintain the livelihoods of the various ranks of nobility, except in the republic of Grienice, which enforces a strict regime of equality.


    In order to maintain the natural rights of noble titles, nobles only marry suitors of equal divinity. This is why the adventuring rank was developed, once an adventurer has cultivated to their maximum potential, the rank they achieve with this reflects their divinity.


    The names of noble ranks can differ in different countries. In Reddington a count can sometimes be referred to as an earl, while in Blurich most dukes call themselves herzogs.

 The Value of a Life

    Laugh peeked into the wooden opening. Thankfully, none of the slimes had crawled up the chute towards the seat, so he didn''t need the prodding stick.


    He lifted up his tunic and sat down.


    The original inhabitants of the cave had been apprehensive about the outhouse concept. They had been relieving themselves in the surrounding forests all their lives and were resistant to change. That was natural for young goblins that had only seen winter. However, Laugh had seen other seasons, and knew all too well the precautions goblins had to take to not be overrun by slimes.


    Still, the latrine was taking it a step further. Whereas normally goblins would simply find a dedicated pooping corner somewhere downhill, Scratch had ordered the digging of a broad pit for the waste to collect in, and an elevated cell away from it all.


    There was a pattern there, manipulation of one''s surroundings, it shone through in everything Scratch did, from building, to mining, to dealing with other tribes. When he wasn''t content with the way things were he made an effort, not to adapt, but to exert control. It was very ungoblin-like.


    These were the kinds of thoughts that went through Laugh as he took his daily shit.


    When he finally finished he cleaned himself with a leaf and went outside.


    The outhouse stood next to the perimeter, some distance away from the tower and as far as way as possible from the well. It stood elevated above a wooden support structure with a few steep steps to get up and a chute at the back, guiding the waste into a trench filled with pulsing blue slimes. The substance expunged by the blue creatures after digestion was a muddy green water, so much had they produced that not all of it could be absorbed by the eager dry earth and a layer of it glistened between the blue.


    Fat was on lookout on top of the tower, he waved at him as he walked back to the square, where the workshops were. He waved back. They didn''t say anything.


    There was a mutual trust between Drool''s sons and him, Scream and Digger now, although they would probably never become part of the brothers proper. That suited Laugh fine, he had lived as a beta male for much longer and under much worse conditions under Horns.


    Back in the square he began to dutifully continue his chores. The distillery needed new water, there were pelts that needed to be smoked, and they were building a sturdy cell to hold a breeding slave.


    Scream and Digger were already gathering water and smithing metal rods respectively, a smoke plume from the kitchen hut showed Quiet was preparing the fish they had caught, and Biter was practicing his crossbow.


    Laugh took a moment to appreciate the scene. The sounds of rock banging on heated iron, the splashing of water and the occasional *twang* of the crossbow blended together into a calming background melody. He couldn''t help but think how much better it would sound punctuated by the wails of women in labor, as he was used to. Pretty soon they''d be a real tribe.


    <hr>


    It was almost morning when the bandits arrived at the hidden waterfall.


    The wide cave entrance was an intersection of the cavern systems of the underworld with the open sky of the overworld. A small stream of the wide river delta was diverted into the world below instead of the sea here. While caverns extending up to the surface were hardly rare, they were uncommon enough not to be taken in consideration by idle eyes scanning the horizon. The place had therefore become a good meeting place for thieves'' guild members.


    Barbara was holding still, her brother-in-law was holding her roughly by the hair.


    Sebastian stood on a rock, impatiently tapping his foot.


    Both felt their hearts skip a beat when the creaking wagon wheels of Nestor''s caravan became audible.


    "Lydia" The Harkness man said sweetly, when he saw the bandit leader approach. "Kindly fetch Nestor for me, so we can make the transaction."


    "Fyro." Lydia looked at him with a cold glare. "Nestor isn''t here, you''ll be trading with us. Who''s that?"


    "What''s that?" Fyro sprung into anger immediately. "You took the wares from our trading partner? Did you at lea-"


    "Don''t you dare-" Lydia hissed, showing rage but trying to avoid lose her cool in front of her subordinates. "-accuse me of anything. Unlike some branches of the family, my honor flies high, still."


    Fyro gripped his prisoner tighter, making her scream into her gag. "Some honor. What where you banished for again? Excessive honor, was that it? Your deviant se-"


    "Argh!" Sebastian screamed. "Will you two shut up? You''re both fallen nobility, cousins or not, neither of you has any honor. Where''s my talisman? There was supposed to be a talisman in this freight." He jumped down from his rock and stomped towards the wagons angrily.


    Huckabee almost stopped the noble from approaching, but he didn''t quite see a reason why the customer shouldn''t inspect the wares so he let him through.


    The wagons were filled with spices and jewelry. Stolen and illegal goods that could only be traded in secret. However, the baron''s son had no interest in these forbidden treasures. He shoved aside the cases roughhandedly until he found a black case with the image of a winged deer upon it. He grabbed it and held it to his chest in relief. "It''s there, okay, it''s there."


    He never let go of the mysterious package while paying the two bandit underlings for it.


    When he turned around the Harkness cousins were still glaring daggers at each other.


    "By Geros man, will you just pay the bitch and get out of here?"


    "Inspect the contents!" Fyro ordered his followers. "Report back to me for the value."


    "We know the value." Lydia said. "We bought it ourselves. What''s with the prisoner? Is that your new hobby?"


    Fyro scoffed. "I''m not a deviant like you. Even if my dishonor now means I share the bed with a commoner. This is just a traitor, dispose of her." He threw Barbara on the damp cold stone.


    <hr>


    "What would you say about the bandits?" Harkness asked Sebastian, when the group had left them with the purchased wares.


    "What do I care?" The Tanner boy scoffed. "They''re bandits. Of course they stole it."


    The older man raised an eyebrow. "You know, not paying attention to these matters exactly why your house is in decline."


    "What did you say about me?!" Sebastian tried to angrily shake his fist while still holding the cumbersome case.


    Fyro rolled his eyes. "They wouldn''t dare make enemies of TWO thieves'' guilds just for a quick buck, would they now? Not when we''re their only trading partner. They''re trying to take over the smuggling route, so we''re dependent on them. But where did she get the money..."


    "That''s another thing. I thought only your branch of the family got disowned, making you hide under a false commoner identity. What''s your cousin doing with the bandits?"


    "That''s a separate matter. It''s a distasteful affair, I don''t like talking about it."


    "That''s fine, I don''t ev-"


    "She was exposed publicly as a deviant."


    "..."


    "She had this fondness for young boys."


    "So?"


    Fyro narrowed his eyes at him. "Really young boys."


    "O."


    It wasn''t unheard of for certain nobles to have unnatural predilections. Those things could be tolerated behind closed doors. But when deviancy was brought to light, a house had no other choice than to distance themselves from their member and cut all ties. Sebastian knew all too well what a headache it was keeping track of various secrets and scandals and making sure they weren''t exposed, lest they embarrass the family. He was taken aback by how freely someone like Harkness, who was no longer bound by that sort thing, could talk about these matters. He wondered to himself what was worse, really, indulging in unnatural sex acts with those of equal birth, or sharing the bed with a commoner. He didn''t quite know the answer.


    <hr>


    "It''s time to part ways." Scratch suddenly stated, they had reached no clear landmark but he recognized the amount of distance traveled by the amount of patience lost. "Let''s divide the loot."


    "How." A river goblin asked.


    "Well, let''s see. One group splits it up in parts, the other two gets to choose which part they want first. That way the parts have to be equal so the first group doesn''t end up with the smallest piece. Sounds fair right?"


    The goblin went through the steps in his head, darting his eyes from place to place to visualize it. "''S fine." He said.


    "Yeah, yeah, and who divides? You?" Dumb challenged him on no real point in particular.


    "Why not? You think you''d do a better job?"


    Dumb crossed his arms. "Yes. I absolutely do."


    "Fine by me." Scratch shrugged. "I''m going to have a smoke, wake me up when the others have chosen their share."


    Taken aback by Scratch''s quick relenting Dumb suddenly understood the responsibility was a chore, not a privilege, he hung his shoulder as he recruited his brothers into creating three distinct heaps.


    They were following the river, but at a distance, between the trees, to avoid meeting humans, who would walk alongside the riverbed for adventuring. So the small goblin army had been trekking over gnarled roots and ditches, and could now finally rest on a small patch of grass.


    Scratch distanced himself from the rest and sat down in the shade, he took the goblin king''s pipe from his waistband and laid a tuft of blue grass on the ground. With the pipe in his mouth he attempted to light the dried material using a twig and his two hands, hoping to create enough friction with a repeated twirling motion.


    Behind him him he could hear Dumb scolding the human women for not standing still, as he tried to group mother and daughter in two different heaps.


    It took some time, during which the amount of noise from arguing goblins increased, before Scratch finally managed to light the patch of grass. He tenderly lifted it up by the not burning part between index finger and thumb and dropped the substance in the pipe head. He blew in it a few times to give it more oxygen, and then started sucking on the mouthpiece.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Did you have a succesful hunt?


    You didn''t hear our conversations?


    No?


    Then I suppose the humans didn''t tell us any lies.


    Well. No deliberate lies.


    I see, so you''re already walking back that boast.


    I guess I would say that a lie is only a lie if the teller knows it''s not the truth.


    Uh-huh. Sure. How''s the cave doing?


    As far as I can tell, no problems. The culling hasn''t started yet and they weren''t attacked. Though the biting goblin still hasn''t had his foot heal.


    The biting... oh Biter. It wouldn''t heal in a few days, would it?


    I suppose for a goblin it wouldn''t.


    The hunt was dissapointing. Our target turned out to be lean meat.


    Tell me you at least got one woman.


    One and a half. It was a surprisingly small family, considering.


    Considering what?


    Just... considering what I expected. I recruited two seperate tribes as meat shields and in the end, nobody even got hurt.


    But that''s good, right? That means you can keep doing this to more humans.


    I absolutely can''t. The humans are organized, if they detect a pattern we''ll be considered a threat. What do you know about their armies?


    What do I know... let me see... Armies are usually for fighting other armies. They''re composed of knights, nobility, but not very high on the hierarchy. I''d say a knight is a bit stronger than a novice adventurer, equal to an orc really. Dungeons usually don''t have to worry about knights, only adventurers, but I know they''re more disciplined and come in greater groups.


    Hhhm. Well, at least they don''t have conscription.


    Chickens?


    We''ve got two. Neither looks very big.


    <hr>


    The phone rang.


    A man that would later be known as Scratch the goblin looked up from his paperwork and picked it up.


    "Your boys got away." The voice on the other end said.


    "Who is this? Be more specific."


    "Wha-? It''s agent blue, I''m talking about your heist team."


    "Ah, Blue, good to hear from you. How''re the children?"


    "They''re doing fine. No thanks to you."


    "Good. Let''s keep it that way. You say the operation was a success?"


    "That''s relative. Two of them did die. I''m saying here they don''t have any leads on the vehicle."


    "Then they got away. Thank you Blue, I''ll bring them in."


    "Wait, before you hang up, I want you to tell me something."


    "I can''t disclose other operations with you."


    "No, it''s about this one. Why this team? You have access to so many professionals, but the big job of the quarter you get a bunch of thugs and junkies. There was a shootout!"


    He held the phone between his shoulder and head to free his hands and perused the amount of unfilled paperwork. "I guess I can tell you that. There''s multiple reasons really. First of all, in the right circles a job offer is considered a favor, I have various social circles listed I want to endear to strengthen our faction, these people go home to communities that celebrate their deal with us."


    "But the ones that don''t get to come home leave behind a community that hates you." Agent blue responded.


    "That will vary, but yes, death always incurs a cost. That is also my second reason. This wasn''t a high-skill heist, it was a high-risk heist. Death was likely to occur, and I prefer to put those least valuable to me on the front lines."


    "That''s cold."


    "Maybe. Was that all?"


    "No. One more thing. The vigilantes showed up, they were too late, but they caused some chaos."


    "What chaos can they cause? I thought they were kids."


    "They are. It''s just... wherever they go strange things happen. Big lights in the sky, people being set on fire, ghost apparitions."


    "You''re pulling my leg."


    "I really aren''t."


    <hr>


    "I''m sorry." Dumb mumbled.


    The distribution had resulted in the river goblins taking the adult woman and the hill goblins taking the chickens.


    "Hhmm." Scratch hummed, looking over their part of the loot. The little girl had collapsed on the ground, now that even her mother had been taken away from her. She was no longer crying, just staring in the distance with dry eyes. They had some kitchen tools, like a shiny gray cutting knife and a sharpener, some fruit and dried meat, and one-third of the books of the family''s bookshelf.


    "It''s your fault, really." Dumb then decided. "We could have just split it any way we wanted and they would have accepted it."


    "This wasn''t just for us, Dumb. We want to strengthen other tribes too. They''re on the path between us and the humans."


    "The river tribe is going to get bigger." Kicker commented. "And the hill tribe will have better weapons."


    "I put the woman and the blankets in the same group." Dumb quickly boasted.


    Scratch kneeled next to the girl, she was slightly taller than a goblin, but for a human she was absolutely a child.


    "What''s your name?"


    When she didn''t answer he put his hand on her shoulder slightly forcefully. "Tell us your name little girl."


    "L-Letta." She almost looked like she was going to cry again.


    "Letta, do you bleed? Once a month I mean."


    "Are we going to... do it?" Kicker said, nervous but slightly excited.


    "There''s no point if she doesn''t bleed, now let her answer."


    "No!" Letta realized what they were talking about and started kicking madly, her hands still tied she pushed herself away from her captors with her legs, but didn''t move very fast.


    "Where are you going, Letta?" Scratch sighed. "Second, calm her down."


    Second had kept to the background. He didn''t understand how he was supposed to think about humans. They seemed like goblins, but capturing women like this was how goblins survived, so the standards for how to treat them had to be different. Scratch stuck to his eternal pragmatism, and the others were content to follow him, but Second wanted a coherent picture, he wanted to know when Scratch went to far and when not. Now he was called upon to act, to make a decision.


    "H-hey." He tried, approaching the girl cautiously. She was deathly afraid of him. "It''s going to be alright."


    "No. Get away from me." She kicked him.


    Second accepted the kick to his chest, even though it knocked the wind out of him, and firmly grabbed her ankle. She wasn''t able to shake him off and tried kicking him with the other foot.


    "Nononono!" She was sobbing.


    "Ssshhh." He petted her leg like it was an animal he was trying to comfort. "It''s going to be alright. Sshh."


    She continued kicking him.


    "This is obviously not working." Scratch declared. He grabbed her by the hair and forced her to stand up. "We''re just going to have to assume you do."


    "What does bleed mean?" Dumb inquired.


    "When a woman starts menstruating it means her body can conceive." Scratch explained. "That''s when her body bleeds once a month."


    Letta stopped fighting, she was too constrained and the grip on her hair was too strong.


    "We''ll take her back with us, we have time for about one squeeze before the culling begins." Scratch continued. "If it even works."


    <hr>


    "How is your mana?" Lydia asked Stanford.


    "Almost completely back, thank you." Her subordinate answered.


    He was the only member of their group that was learned in healing magic, but his capacity wasn''t anything great and he had had to recover for some time after their clash with the orcs.


    "You''re worried about the culling, aren''t you?" He mentioned.


    "Am I so transparent?" She smiled faintly. "The whole forest filled with rookie adventurers, you never know when one might try his luck on a bandit. We''re outlaws after all."


    "I don''t think we have anything to worry about." Stanford said. "There''s a culling every year, they''re rank F adventurers trying to reach rank E."


    "Hhhmm. We''ve less warriors than last year. They could jump one of the women or elderly."


    "You worry too much. They''re here for the goblins, it''ll be fine."


    Patrick ran up to the pair. "Uhm, excuse me, boss."


    "Yeah?"


    "You''re not going to like this. The Beatty goblins are here, for their money."


    "That''s quite alright, bring them to my tent."


    "But-"


    "Patrick." Gave him a ''do as I say'' look.


    "Yes, boss."


    <hr>


    "Help! Help me!" Letta began screaming as soon as she saw fellow humans again.


    "Give it a rest Letta. These aren''t your allies." Scratch admonished her.


    "Scratch, what in the name of- Why are you dragging around a child?!" Dee was extremely shocked to see a bound girl being dragged by the goblins.


    "We went out snatching." Dumb said. "Like the other goblins."


    "Yes, but-" Dee was at a loss for words. "She''s just a child."


    "We noticed. It''s regrettable, but we couldn''t do much better."


    Patrick came back. "The boss will see you now." He glared at the party in disgust.


    <hr>


    "And... there you go." Huckabee had carefully sorted the gold and silver coins into distinct stacks on a piece of cloth while demonstratively counting them.


    "Thank you, Huckabee." Scratch said politely. He and Dumb were sitting inside the bandit leader''s tent to receive a payback on their loan. "You did sell it at a markup, didn''t you?"


    "Yes, we made a profit." Huckabee responded.


    "Good then this wasn''t for nothing."


    "I thought you wanted us to show power?"


    "You wouldn''t be showing much power if you weren''t demanding anything."


    "I suppose that''s true."


    "What are we going to do with coins?" Dumb whispered into Scratch''s ear.


    "When we first gave out the loan, I said we would prefer being paid in natura." Scratch said to Huckabee.


    "Is that a currency?"


    "No. It means food, livestock, tools. Stuff we can use. We don''t have many places to spend this money."


    "Ah. Well. I mean it''s not my place to-"


    Harkness burst into the tent. "Your brothers are holding a twelve year old!"


    While the others were startled Scratch remained completely calm. "That''s right. We''re looking to expand our family."


    "Did Beatty order you to?" Huckabee asked.


    Scratch hesitated. "...yes."


    The bandit boss paced up and down the space, then she stopped. "We''ll pay you extra to give the girl to us."


    Scratch played with his hair. "We don''t need money, we need to breed. We''re preparing for an extermination campaign."


    She tapped her foot and paused to think. "We''ll trade you. A better, more mature woman."


    "Boss. What''re you saying?" Huckabee whispered, not soft enough to hide his voice from the goblins, who were closer to him than his leader.


    "We give the thieves'' guild loose end to them, we spare a twelve year old from that."


    Dumb and Scratch looked at each other.


    "Is this someone you''re looking to get rid of?" Scratch asked them sceptically.


    <hr>


    "Bye, Letta!" Second waved at the girl in a friendly gesture as she was taken away by the bandits. She clung to Dee''s leg in fear.


    "Amazing." Kicker said feeling the traded woman''s thigh. "A girl that doesn''t bleed for a woman that does, and all this stuff."


    "Your brother is a master negotiator." Scratch boasted. "It all comes down to knowing the value of a life."


    "It does?"


    "It does. You see, the bandits had let shine through that this person was someone they had to get rid of, to them her life was of low value, while Letta was somebody they felt sympathy for, her life was of high value. That gave me the opportunity to negotiate at an advantage."


    "Yeah, but what about our lives?" Dumb questioned him. "They could have killed us for the girl."


    "As long as Clyde Beatty exists, our lives have value." Scratch responded.


    "And chickens!" Kicker was still excited about the haul. Scratch had returned with almost all the money loaned, a gagged and bound woman named Barbara, a fresh bag of flour, a bottle of wine and two geese.


    "Those are geese." Scratch answered. "But it''s basically the same animal."


    <hr>


    They were happy with the trade, although they hadn''t gotten the main thing they had come there looking for.


    "We really can''t do the healing." Huckabee had said. "We need Stanford to save his breath for if something happens to one of us." So they couldn''t get their healer to restore Biter''s foot.


    But he had made a comment that piqued Scratch''s interest when discussing the topic. "Maybe we can get him to try to cultivate some more, who knows, maybe he has a drop of noble blood."


    "Cultivate?"


    "Yeah. You know. Grow your power? Training your muscles, growing your mana pool, that sort of thing."


    "Oh okay. Is there a special trick to that?"


    "Well, I wouldn''t call it a special trick. You just need to train your body, maybe meditate. It''s all about realizing the true potential of your body.


    Scratch had rubbed his chin at that. "So cultivation doesn''t increase your potential, it realizes it. It''s just another word for excercise."


    "Well, it''s different from just practice. After you reach your potential, you can''t cultivate any stronger, but you can still become better at certain skills."


    Huckabee had tried to teach Scratch about cultivation regiments but Dee interrupted him. "Guys. Goblins can''t cultivate. Rhada protect me. Scratch you are a goblin. You should know that."


    "What? Why not?"


    "Why not? Uh... ask the boss. I think they''re born at maximum potential or something? They have nowhere to grow."


    It annoyed Scratch that he had to piece together the mechanics of the world in such a fragmented way. But at least he had access to another piece of information Cyclophan had kept from him. If Dee was even really telling the truth.


    <hr>


    Lydia rested her head in her arms. She was alone now.


    Dealing with the goblins was starting to become frustrating. They were so human, and then in unexpected ways suddenly not.


    Their relationship with the thieves of Eston had gone through an irreversible change, she had let herself be swayed by Scratch''s words and accepted the position of rival to their only partner. Now, instead of killing them, she had given him an enemy of the thieves'' guild, who was supposed to die with her secrets.


    Clyde Beatty probably didn''t exist. The goblins had no leverage. Yet she couldn''t bring herself to make them her enemy.


    Was it because they were unique? Or did she have some other reason?


    She slapped her own cheek to punish herself for the thought she just had. If she was jealous of Barbara, who would now live a life without dignity, she really did deserve what had happened to her.


    It was hard. Being in charge of other people was hard. Making sense of her own feelings was hard. Being alive was hard.


    She steeled herself. Self-pity was the last thing her subordinates needed of her.


    <hr>


    Divinity


    Every living creature possesses a certain level of potential, also known as divinity. No magic or medicine is currently known of that can alter the innate potential of an entity, although the extent to which one fulfills their potential can be subject to change.


    The variation in potential among a species can vary, with humans having the biggest differences, reflected by the castes of nobility. A regular human possesses an amount divinity that ranks them equal to monsters with a threat level E, while the royal families of the overworld possess divinity equal to S level monsters. On the other hand, elves are usually more divine, with a level of divinity corresponding to threat level D, but only very rarely more. Divinity does not always equal combat prowess, the elves, who possess divinity equal to that of a knight, find their power expressed into longevity and youth, more so than physical strength and magic.


    The process of growing one''s power to fulfill their own potential is called cultivation. Adventurers live their lives cultivating, by fighting increasingly strong monsters and facing increasingly dire threats, in order to achieve the highest possible rank, reflecting their divinity.

 Family

    When Barbara was thrown to the bandits she didn''t have to struggle.


    The sheepish outlaws bore no grudge against her and calmly led her by the shoulder, without really inspecting her for any weapons. So the mana toxin stayed undetected between the folds of her clothes.


    She calmed herself down by closing her eyes. She couldn''t die here, this couldn''t be the end of her life. Soon she would get an opportunity, a guard looking the other way, her bonds being loosened, something had to happen, and she would run, just keep running all the way back to Eston and never stop.


    Eston would be salvation. She was known in the city, and whatever story the leadership had invented about her death would be disproven. She would seek out the city guard, the mayor, someone with authority, and tell them everything. Even if she''d get hanged herself, she would gladly spill all the guild''s secrets just to drag the others down with her.


    So she was biding her time. Waiting for an opening.


    The bandit leader was from a knight family apparently. A dose of mana toxin would knock her out for certain, knights were equivalent to level D adventurers after all. When Harkness was going to approach her directly, before she was executed, then was the time to strike.


    In practice it went a bit differently.


    As far as Barbara knew the bandits had been the only group of people inhabiting the forest, but the man holding her was approached by a woman of the same age.


    "The boss says we''re trading prisoners."


    The thought that her family might have used some back channel to save her after all occurred to Barbara, but it didn''t crystallize into hope. She knew she had been utterly betrayed.


    "Better tie her up some more, so she can''t kick one of them to death."


    "Aren''t you a little too considerate of the monsters?"


    "Yeah..."


    Barbara protested as her arms and legs were bound together, nasty insults and angry screams muffled to almost nothing by the saliva soaked cloth in her mouth.


    In the end, she never got her chance, and she didn''t see the bandit leader again either.


    "Amazing. A girl that doesn''t bleed for a woman that does, and all this stuff."


    A green hand squeezed her thigh. It couldn''t be.


    "Your brother is a master negotiator."


    Goblins. The bandits had sunk so low that they were consorting with monsters.


    Barbara''s high-pitched screaming was reduced to a squeal by the gag.


    They were back. They had found her. She couldn''t get away.


    <hr>


    "She doesn''t like us, does she?" Second remarked.


    The captive had been secured to the far end of the private sleeping quarters in the cave via a metal hook that was drilled in the stone, and secured by the makeshift cement of wood ash and gravel, and via a rope attached to said hook. With one end of the rope tied to the hook and the other to her neck she would have the range of movement to walk around in the room, but not to reach the door. Two other hooks held up a latch at the hallway end of the door to keep her from opening it from the inside if she did escape her bindings. While the others were away the goblins in the cave had turned the room into a sturdy and effective prison.


    However, getting her inside was turning out to be a bit of a hassle. The stairway down was still as narrow as it had been as a tunnel, and dragging down a squirming adult proved to be challenging. Once they had untied her legs she had kicked Dumb in the face.


    "Human''s don''t like goblins." Said Scream, it felt painfully obvious when said out loud. Even the bandits merely tolerated and pitied them, no woman would willingly become part of what this captive had become part of.


    Quiet was serving soup with bread buns, most goblins were talking among each other at the dining table while slurping their food. The subjects of discussion were the captive woman, the new buildings, and humans in general. Scratch was too occupied with his own thoughts to participate.


    Six more days until the culling. Three days for a goblin to grow up, one day of pregnancy. We can stagger pregnancy and raising the litter, so three consecutive pregnancies... no, not even Drool did that and he killed her. We also need to break her spirit first... One litter then. Six more goblins to round out our defenses, it''s not much, but we''re more prepared than some other tribes.


    He was brought out of his contemplating by Laugh addressing him directly. "When are we going to do it?" He was visibly eager.


    "Hold your horses stud, you can''t ride a wild horse." Scratch calmed him down. "Tomorrow we start breaking her in."


    <hr>


    The entrance to the cave was a disjointed brick wall with an arch leading into a wood-lined room. The arch was covered by a fur pelt to prevent the heat from escaping, similar pelts and furs were scattered in the first room, for the goblins to sleep on. A small fireplace with chimney was attached to the outer brick wall and heated up the space. At the end of the room a vertical hatch led to a hewn stone chair in a round tunnel, just large enough for a goblin to stand upright in.


    The tunnel had two side entrances to excavated spaces on either side. Formerly one for dining, one as holding pen for Tiresias the cockatrice and two as personal bedrooms.


    Recently the rooms had doors installed in them, flat pieces of wood sawn into the uneven shape of the entrance and treated with tar to prevent rot and with very crude iron hinges. Tiresias had been removed from her cave to a new pen and the room was now empty, save for some bird droppings. One of the bedrooms, with a soft mattress of fur outsides and moss fillings, had been turned into a cage or prison. The other had a pile of coins and non-spoilable goods taking up half the space.


    The cave stretched on further, with no notable features, other than simple crafted walls, and ended at a simple fence of wooden sticks and clay, enclosing a reasonably large space for a chicken coop, although covered in complete darkness, it did have straw beds for its intended occupants. The other end of the pen was the natural rock wall, in which a strangely organic crystalline shape was embedded, Cyclophan''s dungeon core.


    These are geese, not chickens. Cyclophan complained.


    So? Can''t you turn geese into cockatrices? Scratch had his pipe in his mouth while herding the birds into the enclosure with a few of his brothers. It was the last chore to be completed before their cleaning ritual and putting themselves to bed. Most had already gone to sleep.


    Only similar creatures. Pheasants, junglefowl.


    Geese are fowl.


    Still, too different.


    Scratch took a moment to step back from his work an chewed on the mouth piece. I wanted to talk to you about my own genus. How it related to evolution.


    ... What were you going to say?


    We''re all goblins, right? And Horns was something called a hobgoblin. I could be evolved into a hobgoblin.


    I can evolve creatures into monsters of the same type. Goblins and hobgoblins are definitely the same type. Some even stronger would be oni, trolls, ogres or darkspawn.


    Tell me straight out. Into what creature can you evolve me?


    You said you wanted something that could go among humans. I think darkspawn are pass-


    Cyclophan.


    Yes?


    Did you hear the conversation I had with the bandits on my way back here?


    Where are you going with this?


    You can''t make me stronger than my maximum potential. You said that right?


    He had been staring in the distance intently for a while now and Kicker approached him to touch his shoulder, to see if he was alright. Scratch responded by patting him back and stepping up again to help his brothers close off the fence and finish up the chore.


    Did you lie to me about being able to evolve me?


    Now... technically I never said-


    Do you want us to work together or not Cyclophan? How can I be your champion if you purposefully deceive me?


    I... can''t evolve you. Every monster has a special power, the power of goblins is to achieve their maximum potential upon birth. Goblins are on the level of slimes and giant rats in terms of divinity Scratch, that you can do the things you do... it''s all because of that power boost.


    Scratch sighed, almost swallowing the smoke. Tell me why I should continue on with you. What are the benefits to me?


    Now Cyclophan became angry, the core creaked. How dare you? For the so manieth time now I must remind you that I am a god! You should fear me! What damage couldn''t I do to the little home you''ve built up here? This cave is mine and this dungeon is mine too, with all the monsters that inhabit it!


    Scratch didn''t answer, he removed his pipe and went to bed.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    <hr>


    Barbara woke up in absolute darkness after crying herself to sleep. Her hands and mouth were still bound and she hadn''t eaten anything since breakfast the day before.


    She was lying on a soft fur bag, it smelled like the forest. Muffled sounds of goblins and some sort of animal could be heard, she had to be in a room of sorts. She shuffled around the space cautiously, the ground was uneven, tiled with slabs of differing size and sloping downward to one side, the walls were natural rock, hewn by crude instruments and occasionally decorated with wood carvings, and the ceiling was too low for her to stand up straight. There were no windows.


    She had to be underground, in a cave of sorts.


    Unable to see in this darkness she had to rely on touch, which served her poorly with her arms tied behind her back. But she was able to determine where she was affixed to the wall by twisting the rope around her body and tugging on it with her weight. It budged slightly.


    Barbara had been in the captivity of goblins for ages, that was a large tribe with multiple captives, any attempt at escape was futile and she had descended into a passionless melancholy. She had just spend three months convincing herself that it was finally over and suddenly she was in the woods again, like waking up from a dream. This time, she told herself, it would be different. There were no other captives, it was a smaller splinter group with no overwhelming manpower, and the man-made objects in her room made it likely there was a human civilization nearby. She could make a run for it, the dream was not yet lost.


    It was hard to keep a sense of time without the sun. Barbara didn''t know if it was morning or noon when the door creaked and creatures stepped into her room.


    "Have you calmed down?" A voice said. It sounded like a goblin, but more articulate. "We''ll be taking that thing out of your mouth, if you can bring yourself not kick anybody.


    Because of the low ceiling Barbara had been sitting on the ground, she felt two small hands remove the cloth in her mouth, while two others held her by the shoulders.


    "Untie my hands, I''ll be good." She lied.


    "You must be hungry." The individual said, ignoring her comment.


    She was. In fact, she was starving, after a full day without food it felt like her stomach was burning up.


    She smelled some sort of cooked meat being held in front of her, she couldn''t grab it with her hands tied.


    "Beg for it." The voice said.


    "What is this? Who are you?"


    "We-" The one behind her started talking but suddenly stopped.


    "No questions. Beg us for our food."


    "P-please give me your food."


    "Say: ''please let me eat''."


    "Please let me eat."


    "Good. Well done."


    After that she was fed piecemeal by her captor. The food was brought to her mouth and she could do nothing but bite down and chew.


    "You need to eat, you beg for it, you need to pee, you beg for it, bathing, sleeping, it''s all the same. Nod if you understand."


    After hearing that Barbara lunged forward, dragging the goblin holding her shoulders with her, and bit the speaking creature in his arm. The skin was soft and supple like a child''s and she quickly drew blood. It wasn''t a calculated move, she had lashed out in defiance after hearing the being speak.


    Her little bout of rebellion was cut short by a piece of earthenware shattering on her temple. She fell to the ground, the rancid taste of blood still in her mouth.


    "We will break you." The voice said, slightly tinged in anger. He didn''t give her the satisfaction of getting truly mad.


    The goblins cleaned up the spilled food and left her alone.


    For an entire day she was left alone, time blended together in her isolation. Noises of activity could be heard outside, but they seemed a world apart, none of her calls were acknowledged, as if she wasn''t there. She found herself missing her days in the abandoned village, where she at least had the other captives to talk to. Now she had nobody. She didn''t have a friend in the world.


    Finally she found a way to be acknowledged, when she begged the goblins would respond. She was deprived of all the means to take care of her own body and had to grovel to be taken care of, but also to hear the voice of somebody beside herself. "Good girl, good girl." The head goblin would coo as she ate the food from their hands, or when she relieved her bladder in their clay pot. When she talked back or insulted them the punishment wasn''t beatings or name calling, instead they gave her the silent treatment.


    <hr>


    "Break them down, to build them back up." He explained.


    His partner in crime looked sceptically at a photo the prisoners presenting themselves with shaved heads and simple uniforms. "I don''t think I''d be broken down by a few weeks in solitary and a new haircut." She commented.


    He gave a bemused smirk. "Maybe you wouldn''t, most would. What we really do here is deny them their identity, we don''t address them by their name, we change what they see in the mirror, and we don''t talk to them."


    She lit his cigarette after her own. "So? They get some piece and quiet, what''s the big whoop?"


    "The big whoop is that humans are fundamentally social beings. Not being treated as a fellow human, to have your dignity taken away, that builds up anxiety, until they''re desperate to be acknowledged."


    "I see, that''s the ''break ''em down'' part."


    "That''s right. We want them to let go of the person they were before."


    "And to build them up?"


    "We drip-feed them back their dignity. When they obey they are acknowledged as people, they can build up a new identity as a servant of the Syndicate and they''ll be eager to grab it. It gives them back their humanity."


    She stroked the faces in the picture with her finger. "And they''re all set to be suicide bombers?"


    "Not at all, just a few select ones. Most of the women will make money for us walking the streets."


    She grinned. "Ever used one yourself?"


    "What? A house trained girl? Never."


    "Why not? You gay or something?" She enjoyed flustering him.


    "I''m more into the consensual kind, thank you very much. You''re pretty cavalier about this, when you almost ended up a prisoner in this place yourself."


    She shrugged. "They''re the losers, we''re the winners. There''s not much more to it then that."


    He put out his cigarette. "How true."


    <hr>


    "The leader goes first, then the rest." Laugh enthusiastically explained, gesturing towards Scratch.


    "Not while we''re eating, please." Scratch complained.


    The less experienced goblins had turned to the older prisoners for guidance on goblin mating. Of all Laugh was the most eager in proselytizing the ecstasy of mating and the pleasurable touch of a woman.


    Scratch didn''t look forward to the breeding, though he saw the simple elegance in having all tribe members participate, if the paternity was uncertain, all would have a stake in seeing the child survive. Having to turn it into a communal event and seeing the others follow after him into a place of impurity was a nasty prospect.


    "So. When will we?" Fat asked.


    "Not yet. First we finish the new clothes, then we make new children."


    It was perfectly feasible to sew the tunics for the new litter in the three days it took them to grow, he just wanted to procrastinate the event by another evening.


    He wondered why he was so taken aback by the sexuality of the goblins, somewhere in his mind he had to still consider them children, their displays of lust seemed like a frightening and disturbing transformation into something inhuman.


    Then again, he felt it too.


    Their instincts were laser focused on breeding, the very presence of a woman made his body stand to attention. Normally goblins would see no reason not to immediately indulge in such overpowering emotion, only respect for a male above them in the hierarchy would stop them. Scratch had more long term plans for her psychology but even he could feel it drowning out his rational thought.


    "Fat." He called back his brother who was going to follow the prisoners outside to play make-belief after dinner. "Go replace Biter as guard."


    The crippled boy had been sat down in front of the prison door in case of an escape attempt.


    "Aw, but Biter isn''t even going anywhere."


    "You want him to sit on his own all day? Go relieve your brother."


    <hr>


    After half a day of sitting by himself while the others cleaned, cooked and practiced with their knife, Biter was dozing off.


    His foot didn''t hurt anymore, unless he leaned on it, but it still prevented him from doing chores and having fun with the others.


    Sure, Kicker and Second stopped by once in a while, but for the most part he was on his own. Whether he was on guard duty or not.


    He hadn''t even realized that he had fallen asleep until was awoken by Fat tugging his tunic.


    "My turn." His brother said dispassionately.


    "I have nowhere to go anyway."


    Fat just shrugged. "So, move over." He sat down next to him and immediately closed his eyes to try to fall asleep.


    They sat there in silence for a few minutes before Biter began to speak.


    "Do you like her?"


    Fat didn''t open his eyes. "Who?"


    "HER." It was inconceivable that he would be referring to anyone other than the prisoner around who their lives had been revolving the past days.


    "Oh, her. So... I don''t know. I ''want'' her, is how it''s called."


    Biter pressed on. "You''ve been asking Laugh a lot of questions."


    "We had humans here before, but this, this is different." Now Fat, resigning himself to not being able to sleep, opened his eyes and stared ahead at the door.


    "In a good way?"


    "In a... different way. With the- with the prison. Would we keep Lydia, or Dee... or Cobaline?"


    "Not Cobaline." Biter stuck out his tongue in distaste.


    "That''s why... I don''t know. It''s like, like there are two different kinds of human, the one Laugh talks about and the one Scratch talks about."


    Biter crossed his arms. "It''s not different at all. You know the big birds?"


    He was referring to the Cassowary creatures further in the forest, when their hunting trips took them out far enough they would encounter them.


    Biter continued "We hunt them, but we also run away from them. It depends on with how many we are."


    Fat hesitated. "So, you say we''re only nice to the humans when they''re stronger than us."


    "Uh-huh! Isn''t that right, Scratch?"


    Scratch had been standing near the stairs, listening in on their conversation.


    When he was called out to he approached them. "Biter, you''re staying here?"


    "Can''t run with the others like this."


    "I thought you''d come upstairs to sit by the fire for a bit."


    Biter grunted trying to stand up.


    "No no, if you want to sit here that''s quite alright, in fact, I can show this to both of you." He took a broad thin book out from under his arm. "Since you''re stuck inside for now, how about I teach you to read?"


    The book had a brightly colored cover with all the letters of the human language printed on the front. It was one of the books taken from the farm.


    <hr>


    The day arrived that the captured woman had to be impregnated, they were behind schedule already and the final day of the new litter''s maturation would fall on thee official start of the culling.


    Three days was not enough to break a spirit. But the dehumanizing treatment succeeded in making the woman passive at least.


    "It''s now or never." Scratch said, while he and Quiet were cleaning her body with wet rags. "She needs to birth tomorrow. Go get the others."


    Quiet nodded and ran out of the room.


    She had heard his words but barely reacted, only a slight clench in her jar became visible.


    "Have you done this before? You may speak."


    She stared blindly into the darkness. "Many times."


    "I see." Somehow he knew she had been the victim of goblins before.


    He slightly hated himself, cleaning her body had clearly prepared his body for the coming act. This body was given to him by a goddess, self-loathing was exactly the emotion she wanted to impose on him with it, so he was determined not to give her the satisfaction.


    The woman was laid down with her back on the fur moss bag, Quiet stroked her hair like they did when she obeyed.


    The broadly medieval clothing could be easily removed from the relevant area without undoing her of her constraints, but to let her take on a position that was more comfortable for the coming act they untied her legs. She did not kick anybody.


    Scratch stood directly in front of her, the smell made him dizzy and the colour of her flesh evoked images of bodies grinding together in his mind.


    "Let''s go." Somebody behind him said, he put his hands on her knees, she looked at the ceiling retreating into her own mind.


    "You''re the leader, you go first." Fat whispered encouragingly.


    "You know what?" Scratch suddenly said. "That''s not our style. You don''t wait until I''m finished to eat, do you? Anyone that''s interested can have a try."


    "What did he say?" "He said-" "I want-" He was almost shoved aside when the horde descended upon her, small green bodies eagerly climbed over each other and wriggled themselves into place until one had secured the location.


    Laugh held on to her leg and wildly pushed on to her, using her body to pleasure himself. He was finished quickly and replaced by Biter, who took his own turn abusing her genitals with his. With every abuse and grunt the smells and juices compounded, and the woman was bruised and battered by the chaotic crowding of the bodies and thir rough treatment of her.


    In the commotion Scratch left the room. He needed fresh air.


    <hr>


    Darkspawn


    Family: Subhumans


    Threat Level: B


    Reward: 2000 gold pieces


    Darkspawn are champions of evil. They have been known to appear in the dominion of the goblin king, and will often command armies of subhumans. Darkspawn can be of either gender, they have powerful magical ability and high strength too. They can be identified by their human appearance with discolored skin, although they will sometimes use illusion magic to disguise themselves as human.


    Darkspawn slaying requests are usually issued by nobility, to prevent a goblin army from forming or growing further. Because they are surrounded by lesser minions these missions are designated as party quests by the guildmasters.


    The general extermination of darkspawn has been succesful over the past decades, it is rare to encounter one outside the Yellow Fields.

 Welcome

    "Jill picks the f-floh-"


    "Flowers." Scratch corrected Biter.


    They were reading from a children''s book in the foyer. It was illustrated and had short sentences on every page, to teach kids how to read.


    "Jack rakes the leaves and Jill picks the flowers." Biter read the entire sentence from the beginning.


    "That''s right, you''re getting it."


    Scratch had been looking to leave his brother alone with the literature to keep him busy, but teaching someone how to read turned out to be a lot more involving.


    Biter flipped the large page, changing the scenery of the story from a garden to a building''s interior. The two main characters were being praised by an adult caretaker.


    "''Well done'', sais-"


    "says"


    "says the guild master, ''you are very good adven- adventurers."


    Biter paused at the word. The main characters of the book weren''t goblins, they were humans, and part of a human society.


    "Go on." Scratch insisted. "Thank you..."


    "''Thank you, we do our best.'' Says Jill. ''I want to fight monsters.'' says Jack."


    When they flipped the page again they were greeted by an illustration of the brightest red. ''Jack and Jill kill goblins in the forest.'' It said. A vivid depiction of the helpful children cutting up goblins for their guild master.


    Biter squeaked in shock and Scratch quickly closed the book for him. "I think that''s enough of that. This book is too childish for you, we''ll pick out something more mature." He then walked out of the room with the picture book in hand. What do they teach the children in this world?


    <hr>


    "Scratch." Second approached him in the tunnel, wiping his hand clean with a piece of cloth. "The woman is begging to go outside."


    Scratch sighed and ran his finger over the back of the children''s book. His resolve had wavered and he had left the impregnation to the others, leaving her to a much more brutal unsupervised goblin pile. He hadn''t felt comfortable facing her after that. That was his own weakness, no matter how resolutely he could condemn others to suffering, he did not have the heart to observe it.


    "Yeah, sure, take her for a walk." He waved his hand dismissively and escaped to the other room, where the books were piled up.


    The outline of the books was perfectly visible to goblin eyes, even without detectable sources of light, but the squiggly lines that made up the writing on their cover were harder to make out. The foyer was dark too, but not as completely black as the underground. To a human, the place had to be extraordinarily claustrophobic.


    Not able to make out the titles of the books Scratch decided to simply grab three of differing thicknesses and bring them back.


    Before he left the room he took a moment to contemplate his situation and plans for the future.


    I still have my four curses, hated by society, weak, deprived, and ignorant. I am experiencing some setbacks on the first two, since, as it turns out, the god of trickery has been lying to me. However, I think with the tribe doing my bidding the latter two are seeing some progress. We''re successfully building a community here, now that the frost has receded I think we can try growing out own crops. We''ve got monetary means and have even succesfully traded with it. And we have managed to glean a lot from our bandit contacts, perhaps these books too could be of some use. What we need to do now, is only survive.


    With renewed resolve he opened the crooked door and entered the tunnel again, though he had to wait to pass until after the highly pregnant captive was led through.


    <hr>


    ¡¾Are we there yet? Huh? Are we there yet?¡¿Xandra eagerly jumps up and down to look over the stage coach driver''s shoulders.


    ¡¾Quit askin''.¡¿He angrily responds.


    I stare off in the distance out the back.¡¾When we get there, we''ll get there. So calm down.¡¿


    She playfully nudges me with her foot me.¡¾Come on, Rudy, aren''t you excited? Eston, the big city!¡¿


    Since I am reincarnated from modern day Tokyo, I have probably seen more people in one place than probably exist in the world of this story. But I wasn''t about to tell her that.


    ¡¾Heheh. I can tell you''re both looking forward to it.¡¿Uncle remarks.¡¾But I promised your parents I''d keep you out of trouble. So you better be on your best behavior when we get there.¡¿


    Xandra nods enthusiastically.¡¾Uh-huh! We''re going to be heroes!¡¿


    ¡¾Adventurers.¡¿I say. Most adventurers never earn the title of hero, only exceptional people get that recognition. A mob character like myself would probably die if I were to get mixed up in any heroic world-saving adventures. It probably wouldn''t be a big event that drives the heroes to defeat the villain either, not a ''we will avenge you!'' situation, but more of a ''oh yeah, this guy died'' thing.


    I sigh. I guess coming to the city to get an adventurer''s license and kill some goblins isn''t too big of a deal.


    ¡¾Rudy! Why are you always like this?¡¿Xandra pouts.


    ¡¾Cheer up, boy.¡¿Uncle laughs.¡¾You look like you''ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, you''re only ten, life could be a lot worse.¡¿


    I give a faint smile. He is right of course, they''re both right.


    <hr>


    Barbara sat on a stump in front of an unlit fire pit.


    She spread her legs to accommodate for her swollen stomach. The situation was familiar and alien at the same time. She had been used as a broodmare by goblins before, but they hadn''t been able to talk about it with her while doing so.


    She looked down at her clothing. A reminder of her time back in Eston, where she had been able to get a change of clothes, something different from the same tattered rags she had made do with all her time in the derelict village. It was stunning how intense the sun had gotten, after days under the ground.


    Next to her a one-eyed goblin sat down, he was filling a pipe.


    "Are you really goblins?" She surprised herself with how soft and demure her voice was.


    "You will speak when spoken to." He mumbled.


    They went a long time without speaking. Barbara soaked in the sun, who knows when would be the next time she got to see it.


    The goblin boss used a stick to fish out a smoldering ember from the fire pit, and used it to light his pipe. He puffed on it a few times, then he spoke to her.


    "What''s your name?"


    "Barbara." She remembered how she had spit in the face of goblins that had tried to talk to her before, no matter how bad they would beat her afterwards. Now she was happy to be acknowledged.


    "Barbara, we''re trusting you not to run off while you''re carrying the next generation."


    He said it in a generous voice, making it seem like he had granted a high estimation of her character. But there was a double meaning to the statement. In her current state running was hard, although goblin pregnancies only lasted one day, during that time they burdened the mother just as much as any real pregnancy.


    "Why were you a prisoner of the bandits, Barbara?"


    "I wasn''t really. They had to get rid of me by the thieves'' guild. They''d betrayed me and had send me off to die." She was happy to be able to tell her story, even if it was to this creature. "Everybody I trusted betrayed me."


    "Are you sad to leave them behind?" The goblin''s tone had something condescending in it.


    "...Yes."


    The goblin boss, whose name was Scratch, gently discussed her life with her.


    He held a strict authority over when she got to speak and when she had to be silent, but over all, his company was a relief after the continued isolation before.


    She talked about the thieves'' guild, her sister, her brother-in-law and their children, about her time in the derelict village and her youth as a street urchin. He showed more interest in her life and feelings than anybody had in a while. Despite his insistence on setting the rules for their discussion, he made her feel like a person again. Until his pipe ran out.


    "I think it''s time for you to go inside." He said. "And get ready for the delivery."


    She knew better than to ask to stay, when he hadn''t asked for her opinion.


    <hr>


    Have you calmed down? Cyclophan relayed, as Scratch lit up his pipe.


    As I remember it, the one throwing a tantrum was you.


    Nonsense, I politely reminded you of your position. You threw down the pipe and gave me the silent treatment.


    I need your help interrogating this prisoner.


    I see. So when you need me you come crawling back with your tail between your legs.


    Just tell me when she''s telling a lie.


    Fine.


    Scratch spend more than an hour talking to the woman. Most topics were of no consequence, but it helped him cultivate some rapport with her.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    That''s a lie. Cyclophan would sometimes add. She was the one who betrayed them, not the other way around.


    But Scratch didn''t call out her lies when she told them. He simply let her tell her story.


    What do you want?


    I just want some context about their society.


    I could have told you all of this.


    Well you didn''t.


    When the blue grass was used up the conversation was over.


    "I think it''s time for you to go inside and get ready for the delivery." Scratch remarked.


    He could see the sadness on her face. It was a familiar face, one of resignation. A good face for a prisoner to have.


    <hr>


    Quiet and Second were feeding the birds.


    The new additions had grown extra heads and were more aggressive and twice as loud as before.


    Both geese now had an additional long neck and head sprouting from their rotund bodies, which they were all too eager to use for biting.


    In order not to have their hands bit, the two had conspired a way to feed the creatures by pushing the breadcrumbs and grass in a bucket into the pen. The birds were fighting over it, their many necks intertwining and making it hard to tell which head belonged to whom.


    "I see the woman is out of the cave." Second cautiously brought up.


    Quiet just nodded.


    "You think she''ll see our gift?" Second whispered.


    Quiet didn''t respond.


    "Before it''s finished, I mean."


    "She''s with Scratch." Quiet said.


    "Okay."


    They were silent for a bit, until Quiet started the conversation up again.


    "Did you like it?" He was talking about something different now.


    "A bit. It wasn''t very clean though."


    Quiet shook his head in agreement.


    Second shuffled his feet nervously. "Do you think... do you think she liked it?"


    Quiet looked at him like was an idiot. "No."


    "W-well. Let''s go upstairs. If we have free time we can finish it and give it to her."


    <hr>


    ¡¾Aaah! Finally!¡¿ Xandra stretches her legs in front of the city gate.


    I have a look around. The wall isn''t very tall, not enough to keep out a siege, probably just for monsters. The sides of shops and and other multi-storied buildings can be seen over the top. Everything is constructed out of the brightly colored red bauxite that is mined in the area.


    Behind us is the long cobblestone road, a sharp divide between two farm fields. The closer we got to Eston, the more land was cultivated and used, it doesn''t compare at all to the small backwater we''re from, where we are surrounded by unkempt wilderness and monsters.


    ¡¾You lot coming?¡¿Uncle waves at us.¡¾We''re going inside.¡¿


    ¡¾Yes!¡¿Xandra excitedly runs towards him. I follow.


    Eston is bigger than I expected. Most buildings have two or more floors, and the main road is a hustle and bustle of activity.


    ¡¾Wooow! So many people!¡¿Xandra is impressed.


    ¡¾Yeah-hehe. The place is busy now because of the culling, it attracts adventurers from all over.¡¿Uncle explains.


    ¡¾The culling, huh?¡¿I mutter. There was a yearly goblin slaying event here, naturally, you needed to be part of the adventurers'' guild to participate.


    ¡¾Looks like we''ve got a lot of competition.¡¿Xandra says, looking at a few adults carrying weapons.


    ¡¾I''m sure there''s enough goblins for everyone.¡¿Uncle laughs.


    We approach a beautiful tower-like building with a sign above the door. The sign shows a sword and a staff, the logo of the adventurers'' guild.


    ¡¾Here we are.¡¿Uncle proclaims.¡¾The adventurers'' guild. You kids have fun getting your membership, I''ve got some errands to run.¡¿


    ¡¾H-hey! Wait!" Xandra is distraught seeing our adult supervisor walk out on them in a strange city.


    I guess I''ll have to be the adult, I put my hand on her shoulder.¡¾Let''s go inside. He''ll come get us later.¡¿


    We step inside the building, making a little bell ring.


    It''s a cozy interior, kind of like a medieval tavern. There are tables to the sides, on which adventurers, seated on chairs and corner benches, lay out their maps and contracts.


    Directly in front of us is the receptionists'' counter, flanked by two curved stairs leading upwards towards a balustrade. From down here I can see some doors leading to offices and training rooms on the second floor and a big signboard for adventurer requests, it is mostly empty. Directly above us hangs a beautiful chandelier made from the jaws of some sort of dragon.


    Amazing, it''s just like in the game! But much more detailed.


    As I spin around taking in my surroundings Xandra walks up to the receptionist and slams the counter.¡¾We''re here to become adventurers.¡¿


    The girl at the reception puts on her professional charm.¡¾That''s great! Let me ge-¡¿


    ¡¾You two!?¡¿One of the adventurers interrupts.¡¾Don''t make me laugh! You know adventuring is a serious profession, right? It''s not for little kids. Go back to your parents already.¡¿


    I shrug.¡¾Okay. I guess that''s it.¡¿And turn around to leave.


    Xandra comes running all the way back to stop me.¡¾Come on, Rudy, don''t let a guy like that stop you! He doesn''t know what he''s talking about.¡¿


    ¡¾We don''t have any age restrictions on becoming an adventurer.¡¿The receptionist mentions.¡¾So you c-¡¿


    ¡¾Let them apply!¡¿A voice is heard from the balustrade everybody else becomes silent.


    I recognize the person speaking. It''s Beatrice Dichtershire, a main character in the ''Four Realms'' series, "the rose hero". She''s the genki happy-go-lucky type and combines sword fighting with magic casting, she has a fencing sword that was forged by a legendary dwarven blacksmith. Many fans wanted her to be a romance option for the player character, but she never was. A fan favorite. Needless to says, she''s a really high-spec character. Mobs like us just don''t compare.


    ¡¾I was about the same age when I first applied.¡¿She walks down the stairs.


    ¡¾Ahh, miss rose hero. I mean, you''re different of course.¡¿The man rebuking us becomes flustered.¡¾I mean, a duke''s daughter is special...¡¿


    ¡¾A hero can come from anywhere.¡¿She states.¡¾In the guild, titles and nobility no longer matter, only hard work sets us apart.¡¿Then she gives a mocking smirk.¡¾I guess that''s why you''re still tier E at your age.¡¿


    The man''s face becomes beet red and he stomps out of the building, under the laughter of his fellow adventurers.


    ¡¾Don''t listen to him.¡¿She says to the receptionist.¡¾Let these two apply.¡¿


    ¡¾Uh, yeah. I was going to anyway.¡¿


    ¡¾Good.¡¿


    ¡¾Good.¡¿


    We are given application forms for the adventurers'' guild.


    ¡¾If you have any questions, just come to me.¡¿The receptionist says nicely.


    ¡¾Yes.¡¿Xandra is immediately confused.¡¾What is a class? Is that our tier?¡¿


    I had seen classes before in the character screens of the party members when I played this as a game, the class decided what kind of gear they could equip and what stats would increase at level up, but I had no idea how to determine what someone''s class was beforehand either.


    ¡¾Let me explain-¡¿The receptionist started.


    ¡¾There are nine classes.¡¿Beatrice interrupts her.¡¾Bard, Duelist, Healer, Mage, Martial Artist, Paladin, Ranger, Rogue and Vanguard. You can choose which class you want to apply as, and you can form parties with a good variety of specialties.¡¿


    ¡¾Thankssss.¡¿The receptionist tells her, then she turns towards us.¡¾What class you belong to also informs the guild on what kind of equipment you may need to buy, so we can have it in stock, and what missions should be send to you for special requests. If you don''t know what to fill in, we have an aptitude test for you to take.¡¿


    ¡¾Oh, yes please!¡¿Xandra is getting excited.


    ¡¾Let me make the necessary preparations, if you could just wait here.¡¿She gives us all a polite smile and leaves.


    Beatrice invites us over to a table.


    ¡¾You don''t need to feel restricted by your class choice.¡¿She says.¡¾I''m a duelist, but I also cast magic attacks like a mage.¡¿


    As expected of a high spec main character, talking about doing something amazing as if it''s a good tip.


    ¡¾What tier of adventurer are you?¡¿Xandra is starstruck.


    ¡¾C! Just got promoted after retrieving the feybloom from the Witchwood.¡¿


    C, huh? That makes sense, I guess this is some time before the events of the game, I thought she looked a little young. Compared to her in-game appearance of course, not compared to us.


    ¡¾Did you take the aptitude test too?¡¿Xandra asks.


    ¡¾Sure did! It''s a series of challenges, you have to attack dummies, hit targets and defend against a barrage of projectiles. Do either of you know any spells?¡¿


    We shake our heads.


    ¡¾No spells? How about special techniques, legendary equipment?¡¿


    ¡¾Uh, no.¡¿


    She looks a bit disappointed. Was she expecting to meet someone amazing? We''re not main characters, we''re mob characters, faces in the crowd in the background fo the real story.


    ¡¾Well, I guess you can skip the test for Healer or Mage then, since they just want to see how well of a caster you are.¡¿


    Suddenly she gets up, she had been so eager to make conversation before but now she is bored of us.¡¾Good luck with the aptitude test, I''m rooting for you.¡¿She''s already out of the door when she finished her sentence.


    ¡¾Excuse me? Young adventurers?¡¿The receptionist called out to us.¡¾The tests are ready.¡¿


    <hr>


    The boys entered the cave after the evening exercise routine.


    Biter was inside, reading from a thick book.


    "Aren''t you straining your eyes?" Scratch said. The sun had already gone under and the room was darker than it was during the day, when indirect light through the front entrance and slight gaps in the wall staved off some of the darkness.


    "I suppose." Biter rubbed his eyes and put away the book.


    "What is that?" Dumb wanted to know.


    "It''s a book." Said Fat. "If you can read, words can be drawn and read from the drawing." It was a description of his own making, not very elegant, but serviceable.


    "What''s the point of that? Just say the words."


    "Think of it like this." Said Scratch, lying down. "A book needs to be written only once, and can be read many times, that way the words can survive long after the death of the author."


    Now Fat was confused. "Author?"


    "Writer."


    "Can you teach me how to read?" Scream asked all of a sudden.


    "Me too!" Dumb demanded.


    "Me too." "And me."


    The different goblins started talking over each other.


    "Hey-HEY." Scratch tried to stop the commotion. "When we get time we''re all going to- Do you hear that?"


    From deeper in the cave came the pained screams of Barbara, their captive.


    "Kicker, Quiet, with me. The rest, stay here. I think the kids are about to be born."


    <hr>


    "Push. Push!"


    Barbara had experience with the process, she hardly needed instructions.


    The sacks of membrane glided out of her body with a sickening *squelch*. One by one they left her body, leaving behind only blood and amneotic fluids to leak onto the straw.


    They had brought her to their chicken coop, where there was enough straw and sawdust gathered to absorb the spilling liquids.


    The air was fresher here, when it wasn''t contaminated by this rancid process, but it was still completely dark.


    Once she finally pushed out the sixth one she fell back. After so many times, it almost didn''t disgust her anymore.


    "Six healthy baby boys." Said Scratch''s voice. "What do you want to name them?"


    She didn''t respond at first, thinking the words had to be aimed at somebody else.


    "Barbara, what names should we call them by?"


    She got annoyed. "It''s not my concern is it? Call them Fyro, Mabel... Mac... George and... and Lydia." A small rebellion in a constricted life. A tiny insult to her enemies who would never even fiind out about it.


    "That''s five, but that''s alright. You must be tired. Let''s bring her back to her room. And take off these soiled clothes, we''ll wash them for her."


    <hr>


    It was hard to focus an anything else when the sounds of childbirth were echoing around inside the cave.


    Dumb tried had taken Biter''s book and flipped through the pages to find the odd picture. It was a sea-faring story and the etches often showed great ships and sea monsters.


    Digger started to hum a tune, but was nudged by Laugh to stop.


    There was a tension over the room, a sort of ecclesial taboo on sound and interrupting the screams of the mother.


    Eventually she did stop, and the impromptu midwives came up, each carrying two babies.


    "Everybody, meet our new members."


    Everybody circled around the sextuplets, who were put on a heap of blankets as an elevated podium. They already showed some awareness of their surroundings, the firstborn stretching his arms out towards his uncles and grasping Second''s finger.


    "What will we call them by?" Asked Dumb. "Can I name one?"


    "Their names have already been decided." Scratch declared. "Let''s see if I can tell them apart. In order they''re Fyro, Abel, Mac, George, Linus and Benjamin, the youngest."


    "Those names are strange." Dumb complained.


    "They''re proper, biblical names. Most of them at least."


    The others didn''t like it, but Scratch was still the leader, so the biblical names stayed.


    All babies were fed vegetable paste and laid to bed on the tunics that had been prepared for when they were fully grown.


    In order to get them to fall asleep while they were being stared at, Scratch sang a lullaby, roffling some percusion with his hands on the wooden floor.


    I''ve got my ticket for the long way ''round


    Two bottle whiskey for the way


    And I sure would like some sweet company


    And I''m leaving tomorrow. What''d you say?


    When I''m gone, when I''m gone~


    You''re gonna miss me when I''m gone


    You''re gonna miss me by my hair


    You''re gonna miss me everywhere, oh


    You''re gonna miss me when I''m gone


    When he fell silent the newborn had fallen asleep, and some of the older goblins too.


    Second tapped him on the shoulder.


    "What is it?" He whispered.


    "We made a gift for her."


    "Who- oh. Why?"


    "We just did. Can you give this to her?"


    Their gift was a longer, broader tunic, a dress really, made out of two seperate hides.


    "It''s clothing." He explained. "Clean clothing."


    Scratch put his hand on Second''s cheek. "I think Barbara will love it, go take it to her yourself."


    "Barbara..." He tasted the name. "I will."


    <hr>


    Dark Goose


    Family: Bird


    Threat Level: F


    Reward: three copper pieces


    The dark goose is an easy to recognize monster, it resembles a normal goose but with an additional head and larger tomia (bird teeth) for chewing up large pieces of meat. The dark goose lives in swamps and wet caves of any danger level and will attack anything it sees, including its own kind. This is a solitary creature, unless tamed by a monster tamer or dungeon, it will never flock together with others of its own species. Because of this, the damage this monster can do to their ecosystem is minimal and there are rarely any urgent supression missions regarding it. Dark geese are considered occupational hazards of dark aligned environments, not mission objectives in and off themselves.


    The feathers of dark geese can be used in certain alchemical recipes, but never as a vital ingredient that can''t be substituted.

 Calm Before the Storm

    When she was instructed to undress Barbara scrambled to hide the mana toxin.


    It was her secret trump card, but she hadn''t yet seen an opportunity to use it. Once the adventurers came, she figured, she would throw it into the goblin leader''s face.


    So the tiny vial was quickly stowed underneath the primitive mattress in her assigned quarter.


    -


    She couldn''t see who was talking to her in the absolute darkness of her cell, but she knew it was one of Scratch''s underlings.


    "T-take off your clothes. They''re dirty."


    With such perfect diction it sounded even more similar to a human boy''s voice.


    As she removed the damp skirt she considered her situation and her captors. I think I understand, the underlings are all real goblins, their intelligence is boosted by their leader. One-eye is some sort of high magic monster, either a special goblin type or something completely different. He has an uncanny control over them, they obey him without being threatened, but he couldn''t participate in the.. ugh... mating pile.


    She took off her top while letting her mind go towards the unpleasantness of the days before.


    That means the mana toxin should definitely work on him, perhaps even restrict his ability to affect the goblins'' minds. Wouldn''t that be something? Maybe they''ll all gang up on him.


    She let herself become optimistic, suddenly her time in the derelict village seemed like a strength. Her understanding of goblins and hardiness against rape allowed her to keep a cool head and find a way to escape, instead of break down.


    She realized she had been standing still in one place, completely naked, her head a bit bend not to hit the ceiling. A slight chill was getting to her and the other party remained silent.


    Eventually he did speak. "Uhm, uh. Here."


    She didn''t stir. Where? Do I have to move?


    The entity came up to her and pushed something into her hand. "New clothes."


    Then he left, she could hear the door closing and the latch being placed. She felt the gift in her hand, it felt like hide, some sort of primitive dress perhaps.


    She decided to put it on, even if it was a bit difficult to put on with the low ceiling. Now that the goblin had left and she was left unbound for the first time in days she activated a candlelight spell to see. What had been given to her was a formless rag to cover her body, it was made up out of differently colored skins and big obvious stitching.


    She thought it made her look like a feral creature herself. But it was better than sleeping naked.


    <hr>


    Second stood in front of Barbara, he held the dress in his hands, fidgeting with it.


    Quiet hadn''t entered the room, he was observing from the doorpost.


    "T-take of your clothes. They''re dirty." He commanded, as he had been instructed to do.


    Following that, she proceeded to do as he said. She pulled down her skirt and removed her top.


    The blood rushed to Second''s face, as his entire body reacted to the sight of her naked flesh, he froze up. This wasn''t the time to mate, no matter what his lower body told him, so he stopped himself from rushing her. Besides, on his own he was hardly a match for her size.


    Barbara stood there getting uncomfortable.


    "Uhm, uh. Here." He averted his gaze and extended his arm with the dress.


    Nothing happened. She couldn''t see in the dark.


    Gathering all his willpower Second took four long steps forward and pushed the gift into her hand. "New clothes." He then grabbed her dirty clothes from the ground and rushed out of the room.


    -


    He and Quiet locked up the cell again.


    "What are you doing?" Dumb had followed them down the tunnel.


    Second gave an enormous grin.


    "Don''t just smile at me. Tell me what you did!"


    "Hehe." Straining the limits of his face Second''s toothy grin became even wider.


    <hr>


    The next morning Scratch was woken up by a toddler stumbling over his chest.


    He held the kid up by the armpits. It was Abel, he had matured a bit during the night.


    "Up and about already? You want to go exploring?" Scratch asked him.


    Abel opened his mouth of adult teeth, too big for his head. "Exp''oring!"


    "That''s exploring."


    He looked around. It seemed like most of the newborn had woken up and were walking around their new home.


    Seeing so many goblins in one place made Scratch do an inventory on their family.


    The oldest two where Quiet and himself.


    Then there were five of their younger brothers still alive; Second, Kicker & Biter, Fat and Dumb.


    They had three adopted members, Scream, Laugh and Digger.


    And now the youngest generation had been born, his nephews most likely. Fyro, Abel, Mac, George, Linus and Benjamin. Their names bing roughly what Barbara had suggested, some slightly altered to be male.


    Together that was sixteen, one of the larger tribes after the splintering of the main group.


    In a few days the nephews would be fully grown and capable of defending the cave. Minus Biter there would be fifteen warriors, he could only hope that was enough.


    -


    Quiet was preparing baked eggs and dried meat meat for breakfast, Scratch went on to wash yesterday''s clothes outside with Laugh and Scream. The others were doting on the kids, teaching them how to dress themselves and trying to get them to say their names. For now their tunics hung down to their ankles, but they would grow into them soon enough.


    Scratch looked at the two adopted goblins. He tried to think of a subject to start a conversation but he came up short. They were focused on their task of scrubbing the clothing in the washing basin, so he was contend to do so without conversation.


    The water turned red from Barbara''s excretions, so much so that it wouldn''t be hygienic to wash the remaining clothes in the same broth.


    "Drain it?" Scream asked.


    "Yeah. Let''s put some water in the sifter too."


    The water from the well was still being sifted through rocks and gravel before it was used, so they had to use some foresight to put it in some time before they could use it.


    "The food has to be done right now anyway." Laugh commented, sniffing the air.


    Breakfast was usually prepared in the little hearth in the foyer, rather than the kitchen hut outside, since breakfast meals were simpler.


    -


    They finished up what they were there to do and went back inside.


    Scratch was the last to enter, but he paused for a moment and looked back over the dew covered huts.


    He felt strangely elated, there was a light fluttering in his chest. I must be nervous, there''s so much uncertainty in the future. Adventurers, bandits, new mouths to feed. It''s a headache. Somehow a smile cracked to his lips.


    <hr>


    ¡¾Will you slow down?¡¿I feel like I need to keep an eye on Xandra, she''s so young in a strange city and uncle isn''t much help. I guess I''m young too though.¡¾How bothersome.¡¿I sigh.


    ¡¾Rudy! Here! Here!¡¿Between the bustling crowd of the marketplace I see Xandra jumping up and down next to a weapon''s stall.


    ¡¾Oioi! Fledgeling'' adventurers, eh?¡¿The shopkeeper is a mountain of a man, as wide as he is tall and exuberant as he is wide.¡¾What class are y''all then?¡¿


    Xandra holds up her license proudly.¡¾I''m a martial artist, Rudy here is a Rogue! Although, I guess you do have aptitude for other classes too.¡¿


    The man bends forward to read her piece of paper.¡¾Xandra it is then? There''s a purty name. My name is Zell.¡¿He sticks out his hand for a handshake and she manages to clasp two of his enormous, sausage-like fingers.


    ¡¾Suppose you''d be looking for some gauntlets then.¡¿Zell says, digging under his display.


    ¡¾Yes!¡¿Xandra bites her lip and wriggles her eyebrows at me. It''s happening. It''s finally happening. Her face screams.


    I can''t help but get a little bit excited myself. Our own weapons, I only hope the copper pieces uncle gave us are enough.


    ¡¾''Ere you go little lass. Propah iron spiked gloves, go an'' try ''em on if you like.¡¿


    The gauntlets look large, made of steel and polished to a shine. In other words, really expensive!


    Xandra holds up the equipment in a boxing pose and strikes the air in front of me a few times, making me flinch.


    ¡¾This is just what I need! Look out monsters!¡¿


    ¡¾Uhm, how much is it?¡¿I carefully ask.


    Zell shrugs.¡¾Normally, I''d say five silver, but for you lot, I''ll bring it down to three. To get you started.¡¿


    ¡¾What?¡¿Xandra looks shocked.¡¾That''s thirty copper! Do we have that many?¡¿


    ¡¾I shake my head. We can''t buy anything else if we buy this. We need armor too, you know.¡¿


    She gives me puppy eyes.


    ¡¾Hey! I need equipment too. Besides, you don''t want a weapon you''ll grow out of, let''s find you something that''ll last.¡¿


    Zell nods sagely.¡¾Your friend has the right idea. You''re wise for your age, Rory.¡¿


    ¡¾It''s Rudy.¡¿


    ¡¾Normally I''d tell you to do some small missions, an'' get enough cash for proper weapons. I suppose y''all here for the goblin culling though. You can kill goblins jus'' fine with simple tools.¡¿He scratches his face.¡¾It''s not good business to recommend a competitor, but I know somewhere where you can pick something up for cheap. A friend of mine, lives at the end of this street in the house with the green door, she''s got some second-hand stuff she don'' want no more. Something more in your price range I think.¡¿


    ¡¾Thanks Zell!¡¿I shake his hand. I never pass up an opportunity to save money.


    <hr>


    "Wake up, it''s morning."


    Barbara had been lying awake with her eyes closed when one of her captors came to awaken her.


    "Please let me eat..." She started, as she had been conditioned. But she wasn''t fed, instead she was taken to another room to eat.


    "We thought you might want to spend some time with your sons." The voice of the one-eyed goblin said.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    She was placed in a chair that was too small for her, roughly cut wood with no polish, in front of what felt like a table. She touched the surface to find the food placed upon it.


    "You really can''t see, huh?" One of the other goblins said.


    "Make some light." Another said.


    Without thinking Barbara produced a candlelight spell, the basic light-giving enchantment everybody knew. It illuminated a decorated and confined room not unlike the one she spend her nights in, when she saw the many surprised goblin face stare at her charm from around the room, she realized the command might not have been directed at her.


    "Woooow." One of them marveled at her simple trick.


    "Is that magic? Really impressive." Scratch said while lifting a smaller goblin on her lap. "You may remember this guy from last night, Fyro, say hello to mama."


    Fyro was transfixed by her little with orb.


    "Can you help him with his breakfast? They''re quite the handful, aren''t they?" Scratch said, helping another on a chair.


    -


    Barbara looked at the plate in front of her, a little ceramic circle with an omelet and some dried meat.


    Her fork was a pristine man-made creation, while her knife was a crudely hammered iron strip with a sharp edge.


    She looked around the room. What she had been given was essentially a weapon, the others had ones too but their arms weren''t as long as hers. She could probably fight off the entire room, all ten full-grown goblins. If she didn''t mind some stab wounds in exchange for freedom.


    The cave wasn''t complicated, she could probably crawl her way to the surface, but she''d be vulnerable for any enemies in the tunnel, and would she really be able to find her way back to civilization in these damned woods after being hurt from a brawl? Beside that, who knew what kind of magical powers Scratch had, other than controlling goblins?


    No not yet, after so long in the captivity of goblins she had to have learned patience by now. She took the cutlery and cut up the food in tiny bites for ''Fyro''.


    She smiled at the tiny monster and wondered what her in-law would say if he found out she named a goblin after him.


    -


    They were hardly done with breakfast when her mana was depleted and the candle-light sputtered out.


    Barbara flinched at the sudden darkness and froze up, no longer able to see directly in front of her.


    "Mama?" ''Fyro'' reached out and touched her face in concern.


    "Come, boys I think your mama needs to go back to her room now." Someone said, and she was escorted back.


    A firebolt, a healing spell She thought to yourself. If I could cast some proper magic, I wouldn''t need a weapon. What use is a person''s mana if she can only use it for light?


    <hr>


    Everybody tensed up when Scratch had Fat and Dumb bring in Barbara during breakfast.


    "We thought you might want to spend some time with your sons." He said, inviting her to join them.


    The woman stumbled blindly into the room and was seated at the head of the table by Fat. She stretched out her arms to feel the table in front of her.


    "You really can''t see, huh?" Dumb commented.


    "Make a light." Second said to him, gesturing to bring a burning stick from hearth downstairs in a bowl, as they sometimes did.


    But Barbara created her own light, a beautiful glowing orb at the tip of her finger.


    The whole room paused what they were doing, setting the table and distributing the food, in order to gawk at her magical spell.


    Scratch immediately punctured the mood with a casual tone. "Is that magic? Really impressive. You may remember this guy from last night." He gave her her eldest son. The orb of light stayed where it was, suspended in the air, when she moved to accept him. "Fyro, say hello to mama."


    Fyro didn''t follow his orders, but he didn''t seem afraid of her either.


    "Can you help him with his breakfast? They''re quite a handful, aren''t they?" He instructed, while helping the rest get seated.


    There weren''t enough chairs for everyone, so the newborn were placed on the laps of older goblins.


    -


    It didn''t pass by Scratch that the others would cast nervous gazes on Barbara with her sharp cutlery so close to Fyro.


    He himself had explained that she hated them and they shouldn''t expect her kindness, but now he was placing the life of such a small creature directly in her hands.


    It also didn''t pass by him that Barbara smiled at the tyke, and he would look up at her when she was eating to get a good look at the underside of her face.


    I won''t have it said that I kept their mother from them. He thought to himself.


    -


    While they were eating the light grew dimmer, and eventually it started sputtering like an oil lamp without oil and went out.


    Is that the mana running out? Scratch didn''t see her renew the spell, in fact, she seemed helpless.


    "Mama?" Fyro stood on her lap to reach out to her face.


    "Come, Boys." Scratch raised his voice. "I think your mama needs to go back to her room now." That''s enough bonding for today.


    After that they finished their meals and cleaned up, they went on to the chores of the day.


    -


    The time of sewing and building was over, Scratch assigned almost all goblins into foraging and trapping task forces.


    The first for building up a stockpile of food, the second for laying traps against invading humans. For these purposes they split up in threes and fours.


    <hr>


    "How much deeper?" Fat groaned.


    "You''re not going to accidentally dig too far, alright? Just keep going." Scratch said.


    Fat and Digger where digging a pit trap while Scratch was sharpening hazel branches.


    The first experiments in shovel making had been an absolute failure, the goblins had no technology for keeping a shale spade head attached to the handle when it had to move mass around. So thy were digging with wooden scoops and their hands. Although a human bread knife was sometimes used to remove roots.


    When the pit eventually was deep enough for the ground to be at Fat''s waist he began to doubt Scratch previous words. "Isn''t this enough?"


    "It''s not. Look, I''ll switch tasks with you, we need eight more like these." He held up one of the sharpened sticks. "And of this length too."


    Digger didn''t say anything, he hummed a happy tune.


    "Do you really think anyone would just walk into one of these?" Fat questioned him.


    "We''ll cover it up after we''re done. You''ll see, it''s a tried-and-true method."


    <hr>


    Second and Kicker were gathering morel mushrooms, the young Mac got to hold the bucket to keep them in.


    "Don''t take the brittle ones." Second instructed.


    Kicker rolled his eyes. "I know."


    "But don''t take soft or bruised ones either."


    "Yeah. I know."


    "Or if you do, we have to eat those first, cause we-"


    "SECOND. I know about mushrooms, alright!?"


    "Well, you DON''T need to SHOUT at me!"


    "I''m not shouting, I''m raising my voice!"


    Mac started to cry, emanating a pitiful whine at their argument. Second quickly crouched next to him and tried to calm him down.


    "Look, now you''ve made him cry!" Kicker exclaimed.


    "Second shot him an angry look, and then continued to shush the little one. "Hey, it''s alright. Nobody''s angry. Come on now."


    Kicker came up to him too. "Don''t be sad, let sadness pass over you and leave. It''s not part of you." He repeated from Scratch''s meditation lessons.


    This made Second push him away with one arm, at which Kicker pushed back and the two ended up slapping at each other''s arms.


    They rolled over the floor until they had forgotten what they were angry about, then they separated and stood up.


    "We''re not very good caretakers, are we?" Second sighed.


    "He stopped crying, though, didn''t he?" Kicker said.


    Mac had gotten distracted and had captured a beetle in his hands.


    "Well..." Second looked around. "Let''s go back a bit, I think there was another patch- Mac don''t eat that!"


    <hr>


    "Laugh, can you hand me the- the thing over there?"


    Dumb was pointing to a specialized tool for throwing rope over high branches, a stick with a hole in it at which the rope was fastened, spinning it around with the rope a few times gave it enough momentum to fling to rope to the tree tops.


    "Yeh-" Laugh simply handed it to him.


    He and Fyro were not meaningfully contributing, instead they stood in place and stared at the pulley systems Dumb was implementing over two different trees. Linus wasn''t even watching, he was playing with the unused rope end, the rotten material they had cut off.


    Holding the counterweight in place in one hand and throwing the rope again with the other, Dumb was sticking his tongue out in utter concentration.


    When the rope came down properly on the other side Dumb addressed him. "Will you hold this log?" Referring to the counterweight he was holding.


    Laugh did as he was asked. Fyro came to grasp the rope too, although he didn''t put in the strength to help carry it.


    -


    Dumb continued to tie his noose trap, a rope snare that would tighten around the ankle of the person stepping into it, and pull up the stake that kept the counterweight from yanking them away when pulled on.


    It was a non-lethal trap, used for small animals mostly. If the victim had any friends with them they would be able to cut them down easily, a big weakness in a trap for adventurers.


    That''s why they had decided traps like these had to be dangerous to fall out of. Either in the form of a spike trap, or by pulling the victim very, very high up.


    It seemed to be working, they just need a heavier counterweight.


    -


    "Can you believe that Fyro had to sit with that woman this morning?" Laugh suddenly said.


    "Huh, what?" Dumb was annoyed to be taken out of his concentration.


    "Mama!" Fyro said.


    "I was nervous to see that. Scratch is the only one of us that isn''t the father, so he doesn''t care about them being in danger. We can''t trust him with them, you know, goblins-"


    "Excuse me, can you hold this?" Dumb gave Laugh the throwing stick to hold with his other hand.


    "Uhm, sure?" Both his hands were no full, one with the rope, the other with the stick.


    Immediately Dumb backhanded his face, it made a loud *slap* noise.


    "Agh!" Laugh let go of both things, almost dropping the log on Fyro''s hand.


    "Don''t you dare talk like that of my brother. Who took you in, when you had nobody? And now you say he doesn''t care if it''s not his family!"


    Fyro started to clap his hands in excitement, he didn''t know what was going on, but he liked the violence. This attracted Linus'' attention too.


    Laugh rubbed his painful cheek, instead of fighting back he decided to argue. "Goblins care about their own children. That''s alw-"


    "Don''t tell me what goblins are like." Dumb held up a finger in a threatening manner. "Don''t ever tell us what we''re like again."


    Laugh fell silent.


    Fyro was punching at both of their thighs, trying to join the brawl. Linus was futilely trying to hold him back.


    Dumb held his little arms. "Hey, Fyro, calm down. You and Laugh go find something heavier, okay? I''ll go throw this rope again."


    "Okay." Fyro nodded.


    "And Linus- Oh, you''re walking off already. Fine, keep yourself busy."


    <hr>


    "Look Abel, it''s a fish. Say hello to the fishy." Quiet had said more in the past hour than he had said all week. He was retrieving handwoven basket traps from the river to show Abel and Benjamin how to do it.


    Once they were grown up goblins were hard to deal with, but Quiet enjoyed taking care of them when they were little.


    "And then we put him in the bucket. Floops! There he goes!"


    The caught fish were kept alive in water filled buckets, that way it would take longer for them to go bad.


    "Hello, fishy!" Abel looked into the bucket and talked to the fish.


    Benjamin seemed less engaged. His eyes were half-closed and his head bobbed from side to side at Quiets babbling.


    "Let''s pull up the next one, shall we? Oooh, what kind of fish will there be in the next one?" Quiet babbled at them.


    "Hello fishy!" Abel re-iterated sticking his hand deeper into the bucket. Suddenly the fish closed his big mouth around the tiny goblin''s hand.


    "Uuwaaah!" There was no pain, but a big shock as Abel started crying. He flailed wildly with his arm, knocking over the bucket and throwing fish into the mud. His own tunic became drenched in ice-cold river water in the process.


    "Oh! Abel. Abel calm down!" Quiet tried shushing the panicking child. He looked over to see how Benjamin had reacted to the sudden chaos.


    Benjamin had reacted by falling asleep.


    <hr>


    "And the captain sai- says "hoist the main sail!" Biter was reading from the book, pointing at the pictures for George.


    "Hah!" George slapped the page in excitement.


    At that moment Scream came up the tunnel. "It''s time to switch again, I think." He was referring to their guard duty, which they did in shifts.


    Biter stroked George''s hair and closed the book. "I''ll come down. Want to sit with Scream?"


    George coyly shook his head.


    "Ah, come on. You do. Go on and sit with Scream."


    George jumped up his lap and scuttled towards his other possible father.


    Biter stood up and leaned a bit on his painful foot. It was getting better, it hurt, but it didn''t hurt as much as it had before.


    "She''s not going anywhere." Scream said. "We can sit here for a bit, it''s fine."


    "Yeah." Biter said, leaning on his foot a bit more to inure himself against the pain, and walking in a circle.


    "This is nice, isn''t it?" Scream said. Stroking George''s hair.


    "Yes. It''s... peaceful. Do you think the others are having such peaceful times as us?"


    Scream thought for a moment. "They are, they definitely are."


    <hr>


    After having a talk with all the new adventurers in Eston I have come to the conclusion that there probably aren''t any destined heroes among them.


    I made Margaret and Laurus wait for me until I was certain, sorry Margaret and Laurus! But I really needed to know if there were reincarnators among them.


    It can''t be helped. It''s not like people from Japan have a big neon sign above their heads. ''I am a reincarnator, please talk to me!'' I need to find them, see if they have any super potential or cheat abilities, and only then can I try talking Japanese to them. If I tried talking Japanese to everybody, they would think I''m crazy. ''The duke''s daughter is talking about other worlds and reincarnation, isn''t that a bit too much for a noble?!'' The sentiment would be like that. So I have to do it my way.


    -


    ¡¾Yes, I''m ready to go!¡¿I tell Laurus and Margaret.


    ¡¾What sort of business did you have in town?¡¿Margaret asks.


    ¡¾Uhm. Well... just noble business I guess.¡¿I laugh.


    Laurus looks over the horizon. He''s not helping me with an excuse either. Not helpful Laurus!


    ¡¾Laurus and I both have a Pegasus.¡¿Margaret says apologetically.¡¾But you don''t. I don''t know if we can carry you all the way to Blurich.¡¿


    ¡¾Oh!¡¿I say.¡¾We can stop at my father''s castle. I''m sure I can get one of the guard stable''s wyverns, so I have my own mount. I mean, it''s en route anyway!¡¿Thank you Margaret. For changing the subject!


    ¡¾Excellent!¡¿Laurus proclaims. He draws his sword and sticks it in the air. "To adventure!¡¿


    ¡¾Adventure!¡¿We join in.


    We''ll be leaving Eston now, and Reddington with it. But I''m sure we''ll be back here some day, either for Laurus'' family, or to find a new reincarnator.


    <hr>


    After birthing a litter of goblins Barbara was let out of her cell more often to interact with them.


    She learned to recognize their faces by their names, and was weirdly given a position of authority over them by the goblin boss Scratch.


    "You''re their mother, aren''t you. Say something about it." He would tell her.


    Then she would teach them, in his place, about proper table manners, cleaning up after themselves, and playing nice with each other.


    She would regularly walk through the cave without restraints now, and could take short trips to the square outside with minimal supervision.


    In fact, she was recruited in household tasks, washing clothes, cleaning dishes and repairing cloth.


    Scratch was trying to turn her into a regular housewife.


    -


    One night, while sitting outside and staring at the stars, she dared mentioned it to him, speaking without being spoken to.


    "You want me to be a mother to these goblins?"


    Instead of silencing her Scratch calmly puffed his pipe. "Yes."


    She was silent for a moment, then she whispered, almost so quietly that only she could hear it. "What do goblins need a mother for?"


    "Do you have a mother, Barbara?" Scratch puffed.


    "Hhm.."


    "Answer my question."


    "Yes. I used to, she was a chandler, a candlemaker. I never knew my father."


    "Wouldn''t you say it''s for the better to have known her? To know motherly affection. It''s in our nature as mammals to require something like that."


    She thought of the six goblins she had been taking care of, they looked up to her with such admiration, it gave her the slightest pang of guilt to think she named them after her enemies out of spite.


    "Three days." Scratch continued. "They grow up quick, you know. You won''t get too many chances to be a mother."


    Rhada protect me. She thought to herself. I almost felt sorry for the monsters. I need to get out of here.


    <hr>


    Wyvern


    Family: Dragon


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 2 silver pieces


    Wyverns are one of the weaker dragon types, they can be recognized by their four limbed body, their wings being their front limbs. Wyverns are often heralds of a larger threat, chasing them out of their volcanic caves, and usually the first enemy to face when searching out a rampaging fire dragon. Exterminating a wyvern flock is a promotion quest for level D adventurers, meaning it will always result in a promotion to level C if completed successfully.


    Wyverns can fly, making them a difficult enemy to fight for non-ranged fighters without a flying mount, but also a popular capture of monster tamers, who can turn them into powerful flying mounts. In the kingdom of Reddington, it is common for dukes to employ one or more monster tamers in order to supply their armies and personal guard with powerful wyvern mounts.

 Sides on a Coin

    The kids were growing up quickly, two days of busy preparations and they were almost completely matured.


    At Scratch''s insistence they were tutored and taken care of by their mother, Barbara. But most of the day they would be outside, helping out the older goblins and playing games with each other. Before too long they each found their own niche to contribute in.


    Fyro and Abel we the boisterous ones, Fyro demanding to go hunting and Abel taking any opportunity to go outside and see the world. At first they would go along with Kicker and Scratch during their spear hunting and trapping, in an apprenticeship of sorts. Eventually their mentors decided they were experiences enough to go hunting without supervision, while they focused more on Scratch''s human traps. They even managed to kill a wild pheasant on their own.


    The pheasant was prepared mostly by Quiet, but with help from Mac, who grew to enjoy the peaceful tasks at home the most. The two were now a staple in and around the cave, cleaning, cooking, and mending clothes. Only on special occasions would they follow others further out into the woods.


    George was assigned metalworking after he had shown reasonable talent for it while helping Second create metal spearheads. Some insight went into treating heated metal, when to hit and when to quench, apparently he just had an eye for it. They let him all but claim the little blacksmithing hut, which he altered to his own liking, and even incorporated the charcoal kiln into.


    Linus did odd-jobs, both for Barbara and for Scratch, finding items in the dark, repairing failing architecture, and running back and forth between the cave and the forest with food, water and tools.


    Because Benjamin never took initiative and didn''t seem to enjoy much of anything he was told to stick with Biter and do whatever he told him.


    -


    The shift from a burden to a workforce was almost instantaneous, now that so many of the day-to-day chores were taken care off, the older generation could focus completely on trap setting. Even Biter, who was only just becoming able to walk long distances again, joined them occasionally. For this he would take Benjamin along, with Biter''s injury they had the same default walking speed.


    <hr>


    "There we go, would you notice something like this?" Scratch proclaimed proudly.


    Dumb took one look at the branches covered in loose earth, the bright green of the needles shone unperturbed by the strewn soil, and in places the material had fallen through, revealing slight crevices towards the pit below. "Yes." He said.


    "Hhmpf. Maybe because you''re looking for it. Imagine just casually strolling here, looking at the birds, then WHAM-" He mimed a surprised tumble. "-dead."


    "Nah..." Dumb doubted him.


    "Jah..." Scratch insisted.


    "Fat!" Dumb yelled at his brother, who he could see approach them through the trees. "Come over here!"


    "That''s not fair. Fat dug this hole, he''s not going to- Fat!"


    The goblin gave a surprised yelp as he suddenly sank into the ground.


    His two brothers jumped over the trap to grab him but it was already too late.


    "No!"


    Scratch barely dared to look over the edge, but when he did he saw the boy stand perfectly straight, a pike almost his full height grazing him both front and back.


    "Whuuuaah!" He began to cry.


    Scratch sank back in relief, but not before giving Dumb an angry jab in the ribs.


    "Hehe, sorry." Dumb apologized while pulling Dumb up. "It''s a good thing the sticks don''t work very well."


    Fat wiped back his tears after getting out of the hole. "I think I... soiled... my tunic."


    Dumb snapped his fingers. "Hey! That gives me an idea for a better trap!"


    Scratch poked him again. "Come on, Fat, let''s go home and clean up. Dumb can stay here and repair this thing."


    <hr>


    The day the culling starts there would be a big opening ceremony at the guild house.


    Because Xandra was so excited we arrived half an hour earlier and have to wait at a table for it to start.


    I yawn.¡¾Couldn''t we have slept late? Eston beds are way nicer than back home.¡¿


    ¡¾No.¡¿Xandra says resolutely.¡¾Don''t you know the early bird gets the worm? In the past five years every top culling party signed up as one of the very first.¡¿


    ¡¾Did you really read up on that? Who researches the history of a festival? Seriously!¡¿


    ¡¾Hmmpf¡¿She turns away from me towards the balustrade, where in a few moments the guild master will appear.


    By now the room is pretty packed, because we were some of the first to arrive we have front-line seats to the show. I see the man that tried to pick on us two days ago struggling to see anything.


    -


    Eventually the guild master does appear, it''s somebody different than in the game. I don''t recognize this old guy at all. I suppose he''ll retire in a few years and be replaced by Marie, or ''Boss'' as some of the characters in the game call her. I don''t actually know how people are promoted in the guild, is it a rank thing? Boss certainly seemed like a powerful vanguard in the game, maybe she got the position because she became stronger than this guy?


    ¡¾Is he a famous adventurer?¡¿I ask Xandra.


    ¡¾Ssshh, it''s starting.¡¿


    -


    ¡¾Hello everybody. Boy, is it nice to see so many people in the guild hall. I even see some fresh new faces this year, that does an old man good. It gives you hope for the future!¡¿The man has a creaky old person voice, but he is loud enough for his voice to fill the entire space.¡¾You know, the culling is a proud tradition that stretches back to before the founding of our great nation. You see, back then, local lords would promise to their people that-¡¿


    ¡¾Mr. President.¡¿Boss- no, Marie comes up to the current guild leader and speaks softly to him. Her heavy armor looks exactly like the game''s graphics, except made real.¡¾I think they want to hear about the rewards.¡¿Because Xandra and I are sitting so closely to the balustrade we can overhear her guiding him.


    ¡¾Of course, of course-¡¿The man''s voice is just as loud when addressing her, I wonder if there is some sort of spell he is using that functioned as a microphone.¡¾For the coming month, the reward for killing goblins is doubled!¡¿


    There are some audible cheers from the crowd. People really like their money, I guess.


    ¡¾And that''s not all, the person that has killed the most goblins by the end of the month will receive this special prize! A magical amulet.¡¿He holds up a green ruby encrusted onto a golden band.


    My eyes fly wide open. The spring amulet! That''s a special item in the game, needed to reach the secret final boss and the true ending. It was supposed to be hidden on a fallen adventurer in the witchwood. Why was it a prize in this local festival?


    The guild master doesn''t pause for me to over think these things.¡¾We take the right ear of a goblin as proof of a kill. Sign up as a party to get your very own basket! At the end of the month, we''ll be counting ears for the winners. Happy culling everybody!¡¿


    After the announcement parties clamor and crowd the receptionist''s desk to sign up. It''s pretty poorly planned actually, couldn''t they have let us sign in for the competition before the event actually started? The lady behind the desk is panicking trying to help the impatient people as they push in front of each other trying to be one of the first to sign up.


    I look around me, before I knew it I have lost Xandra.


    -


    After a while she comes back with a triumphant look on her face.¡¾I signed us up as ''Xandra''s party.'' We''re one of the first ten!¡¿


    ''Xandra''s party''? Isn''t that a bit like she''s the main character and I''m a sidekick? Well, it doesn''t matter. What matters is the spring amulet. The hero needs that item to save the world, if we win it, do we change the time line? Or maybe the time line is already changed and if somebody else wins it, it''ll end in a cupboard somewhere and can never be retrieved.


    ¡¾How troublesome.¡¿I murmur.


    ¡¾Rudy, let''s go!¡¿Xandra drags me out of the building.


    I suppose we''ll have to do our best trying to win the event.


    <hr>


    I suppose I can relent a bit.


    Huh?


    Scratch had taken up smoking at least once every day in order for Cyclophan to warn him about any unexpected occurrences in the cave, but Cyclophan was using the open connection to talk about anything that pleased him.


    I''m saying that I think you''ve learned your lesson, so I''m going to stop it now.


    What? What have you been doing?


    Don''t play dumb, the animals. I stopped helping you with the animals when you snubbed me.


    You''re saying wild beasts have just been wandering into camp? He almost dropped his pipe.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    No. Ugh... The birds in the pen. I have stopped pacifying the cockatrice and I haven''t been pacifying the geese either.


    Okay...


    They''ve been going really wild and biting whoever comes near. You guys had to use spears to get eggs!


    Well, we managed, so it''s fine. Scratch rocked his chair on its back legs and twiddled with a gold coin, he was getting increasingly adept at making it appear and disappear into his other hand.


    Maybe it''s fine now, but what when you get a stronger beast?


    Hold up. Who said anything about a stronger beast? I''m not planning on keeping any cows in that narrow little tunnel of ours.


    Then what about a guard dog for guarding your treasure? Warg wolves and goblins are a classic team up, I think that-


    This is about the dungeon thing, isn''t it? You want more mana.


    Yeah. So what? You are my champion, helping me develop my dungeon should be your highest priority!


    The walls started creaking again from the shuddering of the dungeon core.


    Scratch collected himself. I''ll see what I can do, after we survive this culling thing, but don''t forget that this is supposed to be a mutual agreement. I still expect to be compensated in return.


    Want more gold? Your little pocket is mined out, isn''t it? I think I can get you some more if I go straight down.


    Actually, what we need is limestone, for tanning. Any pockets of that around?


    The whole conversation was bizarre, but it remained a fact that in this world different materials did not come in stretching veins, but in small disconnected pockets. It was Scratch''s own observation that the highest layer of sediment seemed natural, the result of erosion and settled topsoil, but below a certain threshold a system of patchwork materials took over.


    All their rooms were mined out pockets that had been polished and furnished, currently two more depleted pockets were sitting between them and the pen and a third iron pockets was still not mined out entirely. Soon Cyclophan would start bugging him about covering those too, for the ''flow of magic''.


    My magic isn''t picking up any limestone. Then again, all this rock stuff isn''t my affinity. I''m good with living creatures.


    Well, don''t evolve Barbara. She''s been keeping that toxin a secret after all, she''s not domesticated yet.


    I can''t just unilaterally mess with followers of another god. Humans are protected by Benesant, and this nation is protected by Rhada, I''d need her to disavow both of those.


    Good. You start digging again, we''ll focus on survival... And we''ll get you some more walls for the empty pockets.


    Ah! Thank you. I was gonna say...


    <hr>


    ¡¾So we''ll come back next week, right?¡¿Xandra asks.


    ¡¾How else would you deliver your goblin ears?¡¿Uncle snickers. He obviously doesn''t believe we can win.


    Without saying much more we lift ourselves on the new cart. We had been able to hitch a ride on the way here, but this time we have a personal cart and donkey, even if it is less sophisticated than the previous one, not having a roof and all.


    ¡¾Did you really buy your own cart?¡¿I say incredulously.


    ¡¾Yeah~, your uncle is a shrewd businessman.¡¿He boasts.¡¾I''m making back the money shipping these food crates to some acquaintances of mine.¡¿He tapped the top of the wooden boxes.¡¾So we''re making a detour up river.¡¿


    The donkey pulls us all over the unpaved road by the riverside without complaining. We talk about general stuff, adventuring and ranks and such.


    ¡¾So Zell recommended you Kathia''s cheap weapons. You must have told him who your dear uncle is! Hahaha!¡¿


    ¡¾You know Zell?¡¿


    ¡¾Oh, yeah, me and Zell way back. Used to be in the same party, me and him.¡¿


    Xandra gasps.¡¾Uncle, you used to be an adventurer?¡¿


    He chuckles.¡¾Of sorts... I''ll tell you, you hang on to those weapons now, Kathia doesn''t sell knockoff trinkets, those are tried and tested instruments you''re wielding.¡¿


    I look at my short bow and Xandra''s batons.¡¾So they''re secondhand.¡¿


    ¡¾They are. Kathia sells weapons of warriors that don''t need ''em anymore.¡¿


    ¡¾Is that why she can''t sell them in front of the guild house?¡¿Xandra is probably recalling how she told us not to reveal where we got the tools from to the guild master or Marie.


    ¡¾Eh, sort of- Well will ya look at that!¡¿


    While talking we had barely noticed the burned down building we are riding up to.


    -


    ¡¾Xandra''s party, let''s investigate!¡¿Xandra grabs her tonfas and jumps off the cart.


    Does she think the arsonists are still hiding in there?


    I stay put.¡¾Uncle, aren''t we going a bit far east? There''s a high level area over there, isn''t there?¡¿


    ¡¾Hhhm? No? I suppose there''s the witchwood at the other side of the river, but we''re going to a level F forest. Just slimes and goblins, you can score your first ears there.¡¿


    I am confused. In the game the area is under the control of the champion of the evil god Manshuu, a high orc cannibal. He has his own dungeon filled with orcs and goblin slaves. The main characters have to join forces with the fairies of the witchwood to defeat him.


    Maybe the orc champion hasn''t arrived yet? The game takes place six years in our future.


    -


    ¡¾Heeey!¡¿Xandra is calling out to us.¡¾World memories!¡¿


    Whisk cards? I''m not interested in building a deck, but I heard rare whisk cards can be really valuable.


    ¡¾Find any rare ones?¡¿I yell.


    I can just about see her shrug.¡¾I dunno! Come look at them!¡¿


    -


    So we tie the donkey to a young tree and climb over the burned rubble towards her.


    ¡¾Let''s see... These are the ones I found, there may be more.¡¿


    She shows us three cards, all of them show us groups of goblins performing cruel deeds.


    ¡¾Diversion Tactic¡¿shows one group of goblins luring the men of the farm out the front door while another sneaks in through the window.


    ¡¾Ransack¡¿shows goblins jumping on furniture and wrecking the interior while the family is bound on the floor.


    And¡¾Destroying the Evidence¡¿shows a few goblins torching the farm while the others leave with a pile of loot and a screaming child.


    We all are silent for a bit.


    ¡¾I guess this shows why goblins need to be killed.¡¿Xandra says eventually.


    ¡¾I think this is what the guild master was talking about.¡¿I add.¡¾How long ago did this happen?


    Uncle grabs one of the cards out of Xandra''s hand.¡¾''T must must have been at least six days ago, if the whisk cards appeared. But it can''t be from last year, this place would have been found already.¡¿


    ¡¾So it''s from this spring...¡¿I say contemplatively.¡¾Are they wearing helmets?¡¿The goblins in the picture are wearing what looks like old-timey Jingasa helmets?


    ¡¾Must be be some stolen hats.¡¿Uncle comments.


    But I haven''t forgotten that the orcs in the game equipped their goblin slaves with much stronger metal equipment for defending the lair.


    ¡¾Should we go back?¡¿Xandra asks.¡¾Don''t we have to tell someone?¡¿


    ¡¾The duke''s castle is a month travel away." Uncle shrugs.¡¾You can show these cards to the guild master when we go back to Eston next week.¡¿


    ¡¾In the meantime,¡¿I say,¡¾it might not be too late to save that girl!¡¿


    Uncle sighs as we climb up the cart.¡¾Adventurers save damsels in distress all the time, but the forest is a big place, there''s a lot of goblin tribes, with a lot of captives. I''m sorry kids, but I don''t think we''ll luck upon the exact tribe that took the girl.¡¿


    ¡¾Well...¡¿Xandra readies her tonfas.¡¾We''ll just have to save as many as possible!¡¿


    Uncle starts laughing. "Hahaha! That''s what I like to hear, let''s do some goblin slaying!¡¿


    <hr>


    "Ah, Scratch, Fat." Again Huckabee almost attacked the two.


    "You can recognize us for the clothes we''re wearing. Scratch commented, gesturing towards his padded skin clothing and wide brimmed metal hat when he saw Huckabee''s drawn sword.


    "There''s still a lot of wild goblins around, wearing old orc stuff, you know how it is..."


    No, I don''t know, please explain it to me. Scratch stopped himself, he had no reason to make Huckabee uncomfortable, their visit was a diplomatic one.


    "Huck, have you met Linus, he''s a newborn. Linus, come meet Huckabee-... uhm... I''m blanking on your last name."


    "Hi there Linus." Huckabee bend over to address the younger goblin, despite him being not that much shorter than Scratch. "I''m Huckabee, no last name, just a commoner."


    "I see... we''re here to trade again, and to discuss how we''re handling this month." He shook a little back of golden coins Second had sewn.


    "Right, I... think the boss needs to hear about that, let me take you to her."


    -


    As they walked towards her tent Huckabee started talking. "Letta is doing well, physically I mean. She still won''t talk to us, boy, I think she might hate us after all the-"


    "Letta?" Fat asked quizzically.


    "Oh. Letta was the name of the girl you traded for Barbara. Heh, she didn''t want to tell us her name at first either."


    Linus'' ears perked up. "We traded for mom?"


    Huckabee suddenly fell silent. Was he surprised at the goblin referring to his mother that way, or did he just not expect the young creature to talk?


    Scratch decided to change the subject. "That''s how we got her. I see the tent there, is it alright if we just walk in?"


    "S-sure, let me announce you."


    -


    "Boss, Scratch is here to talk about something." Huckabee said quickly as he opened the tent.


    She frowned at him from behind her little desk. "Don''t just decide that on your own. Check with me if I''m busy first."


    "Uh, are you busy?"


    She sighed, letting go of the throwing knivs she''d been playing with. "No. Come, Scratch, take a seat... And who is this little fella?"


    "I''m Linus." Linus said confidently. "I''m going to help carry."


    "We decided we wanted to try buy some lye and other things off you," Scratch explained, "but we also want to talk about this whole culling thing."


    Harkness sensed the gravitas he put in his intonation and folded her hands on the table. "Yes?"


    "We''re turtling up, today is the first day of the culling and we want to avoid traveling outside our camp during that time. It''s enemy territory you see."


    "I see, so you won''t be visiting us the coming weeks."


    "More than that, we''ve build some defenses to keep out adventurers. But between a bandit and an adventurer... a pit trap doesn''t know the difference."


    She put her palms flat on the table and stood up. "Okay, and we''ll be keeping away from you for that time too. I wish you luck-"


    "Oh, oh!" Fat interrupted her. "The cards, the cards."


    "Thank you Fat, I was getting to that." Scratch said through clenched teeth. He then addressed the bandit leader again. "You know how we went through the whole snatching thing last week, we were just thinking, for both our benefit, if the whisk cards, when they appear, could jus-"


    "Boss." Dee opened up the tent. "Fyro''s guy is here with the stuff." And she let in the outsider.


    <hr>


    The man stood still in the opening to the bandit leader''s tent.


    Right in front of her stood a trio of dressed up goblins.


    "Ah!" He said after a moment of silence. "The old Dandelion Hero trick, is it? Breeding monsters for the guild rewards?"


    "Haha, yes. Let''s go look at the wares, shall we?" Harkness jumped over her desk and guided him outside, giving Dee an angry look.


    Dee gave her a "what do you want from me, what was I supposed to do?" look back.


    -


    Soon enough she got him talking about other things, hopefully forgetting seeing monsters in the bandit camp.


    "My nephew and his little friend are out and about adventuring." He said. "I had to point them in a different direction of course, they''re not cultivated enough for bandit suppression! Haha!"


    She didn''t think their killable status was very funny but she smiled along with him to be friendly. "Do you have the spellrods in here?"


    "I don''t know what''s in the crates, lady, I just deliver ''em. I mean, feel free to take a looksie."


    "I will, thank you." She didn''t trust Fyro not to screw her over, even if he didn''t have a plan lined up to replace the bandits after they''d gotten discovered by adventurers, it wasn''t below him to give her deficient rods out of pettiness after they had decided to take control of the route.


    She fished out the large rods with gems at the tips from underneath some standard tooth brushing paste and shampoo that came with the usual shipments.


    She snapped her fingers at Huckabee. "Go get Stanford to inspect these things." Then she turned to the smuggler, I''ll retrieve your payment.


    -


    As she went inside the smuggler took a look around the camp.


    It was smaller than it had been in its heyday. He had understood that recently there had been an orc attack, and the bandit population had been reduced. It was a brutal life, having to live among monsters without the protection of the state. When you thought about it, bandits were monsters, in a way. Adventurers were payed to kill them, soldiers were ordered to exterminate them, and regular people were preyed on by them.


    Eventually he saw a young girl that looked faintly familiar sitting all on her own, staring at the ground. In fact, he did know that girl. He had only just seen her on a world memory.


    <hr>


    Warg Wolf


    Family: Beasts


    Threat Level: E


    Reward: 5 copper pieces


    Warg wolves are larger and more intelligent wolves. They are known to only attack when victory is assured, making them an extremely dangerous foe. They can live for up to forty years and can be recognized by their snow white feet and tail tip. They roam in packs, the size of which can range from three to three dozen, and work together to take down larger prey.


    Warg wolves possess the Pack Hunter nature, allowing them to communicate with each other to co-ordinate attacks, without being able to speak. It has been observed for warg wolves to communicate with goblins this way. For this reason, warg wolves will sometimes work together with goblins to take down human settlements, however, it would be a mistake to say goblins can tame warg wolves. Warg wolves are considered more intelligent than goblins, despite the latter being capable of limited speech, and would be more accurately desribed as the ones taming the goblins, rather than the other way around.

 First Blood

    "Were the goblins supposed to be a secret?" Dee whispered after the smuggler had left. "I mean, we reported about them, didn''t we?"


    Harkness sighed, fidgeting with a throwing knif. "The story we gave the guild is the one they gave us, a monster tamer''s hideout guarded by goblins. Nothing more or less."


    "So?"


    "So to see traders or diplomats coming into our camp is suspicious. What mmust that guy be thinking, seeing us negotiate with them? They have to be of some use to us. With us flaunting our wealth just last month it''s not that big of a leap to reason the existence of the mine."


    "The mine is a secret?"


    "Everything of value we can find here is a secret, Dee. We''re weaker than ever, it''d be bad for too many heads of the leadership to turn our way."


    "Pffff." Dee wiped her forehead, it was all getting too complicated for her.


    "And there''s another thing. We don''t want to be seen associating with goblins too much."


    "It''s a bad look?"


    "It''s a bad look."


    Nobody liked goblins. They were the ultimate combination of evil and pathetic. Centuries of dedicated extermination hadn''t managed to wipe them out, only due to their prolific breeding, which was a disgusting abuse of the human form by itself.


    "Never mind that." Harkness said out loud. "Tell me how Letta is doing."


    Dee scratched her head. "Denise has been taking care of her, but she still won''t talk. Not with her, not with Cobaline."


    "Give her some time, she lost everything she knew, and she''s been raised to hate bandits. We can''t expect to be showered in gratitude."


    "That''s kind of what I wanted to discuss. With her family gone, is Letta a citizen or not? Does this make her a bandit?"


    "It hardly matters, does it? We can''t let her go back to society, she knows about us now. The duke''s army would be on us like that." She snapped her fingers.


    "That''s harsh, boss."


    "It is harsh. But I see no other path for us than to be harsh. The thieves'' guild is sending us supplies because they need the smuggling route open for their business, if they didn''t, they''d have us raid farms and merchants to survive."


    Dee gave a bitter chuckle. "When that happens, we''ll be real bandits."


    Harkness gave her a serious look. "And we have no say whether it happens or not. We''re outlaws, Dee, our fate is not our own."


    <hr>


    The mining was on pause right now.


    In order to smelt the last of the iron they''d gathered the goblins were firing up the charcoal kiln.


    This would be the last big run of the process in a while and they were making it bigger than usual to get as much as they needed.


    George was eagerly packing the wood and splintered horse bones with clay, with help and guidance from Scratch.


    "If we burn it now, how come we can burn it again afterwards?" He wanted to know. Being now known as the smithing goblin he wanted to know as much about it as possible.


    "We''re actually only burning some of it. All this dirt is here to prevent air from getting to it, so not enough fire can form to burn all of it up. The heat evaporates all the moisture and turns it into a more efficient fuel, that''s what you see leaking out at the bottom every time."


    -


    Once they had remade the kiln and started the fire some of the kids went on to climb on the tower.


    Previously, their games had been straightforward, wrestling, hide-and-seek, fake fighting, and such. But now, after having been exposed to books and stories, Biter had organized a game of pretend.


    Whenever the low hanging smoke of the charcoal kiln rippled over the forest floor it resembled the way the ocean looked in the black and white etchings in "Serpent''s Way", the book about sailors.


    "Heist the main sail, the tide is coming in!" Biter proclaimed as the smoke began encircling the tower platform.


    "Aye-aye, captain." Kicker called back, apparently raising the sail by lifting it up like a shutter.


    Fat was already pulling up the imaginary anchor with his hands.


    "Hey-ho, mateys." Scratch said, peeking over the edge. "Will our brave explorers not forget keeping an eye out for adventurers?"


    "First mate!" Biter commanded. "To the crow''s nest, we must scan the horizon for pirate raiders!"


    Benjamin, designated first mate by captain Biter, looked around for a mast with a lookout post that didn''t exist.


    "Ben, just go stand on that corner and watch the forest, okay?"


    -


    Scratch left them alone to play their game. It was good that they had a distraction, current policy had all sixteen goblins holed up in and near the cave.


    They were able to stretch their legs, but only a bit, within the perimeter.


    Currently Kicker, Biter, Fat and Benjamin were keeping a lookout and holding ranged weapons.


    George was in the blacksmithing hut, keeping an eye on the charcoal kiln.


    Scream and Digger were refilling the water purifier.


    The rest was all inside the cave. Most of the older ones still preferred the foyer for hanging out in, but the younger generation was now partial to the dining room. Scratch had ordered Barbara to create a few candles. She wasn''t an expert, but with a few practices she''d absorbed from her motheer during childhood she was able to create a few crude ones out of cooked animal fat. These fat knobbly things lighted up the room and allowed them to read there.


    It couldn''t really be referred to as just a dining room anymore, it served as an eating chamber, a study and a living room simultaneously.


    He went inside to see how they were doing and find some activity to occupy himself with.


    If all days were going to be as peaceful as this one, the whole culling thing was seriously oversold.


    <hr>


    "Rolf, are ye alright?" Pete asked his party member.


    The bard put his hands on his wounds for a healing spell. The cut was superficial and didn''t require his strongest spell, but you never knew.


    He then helped the ranger up. "Let us stay behind Della, tha''s what a vanguard ''s fer."


    "I don'' like dis." The aforementioned Della said, her back still to them as she watched her surroundings. "It shouldn'' be dis hard."


    "Maybe we''re jus'' out of practice." Rolf, said.


    "Nah, nah." Pete said. "This time''s different from last year."


    Normally one wouldn''t need to keep tactics in mind when hunting goblins. The classic party structure could be pretty much ignored as every member went out on their own to hack up any subhuman they stumbled upon. This year it was different, Rolf had gone off-trail to chase after a quintet of goblins but was unexpectedly worked to the ground by their spears and clubs.


    "They must have picked up better equipment from the orc horde that went through here recently." He pulled on the strap of his lute to pull it over his stomach again. "Want me to try divining the threat of the forest?"


    "Save your mana." Rolf responded, as he harvested the ears from the defeated goblins. "I have a feeling we might need more healing later on."


    Even if the gods would report to him that the danger of the forest had risen slightly due to better equipped goblins, they wouldn''t veer away from their mission just for that. They were the firsts to get to the area, able to do the first and most bountiful sweep of the territory. In a few days these woods would be teeming with adventurers and there wouldn''t be much goblins left to slay.


    -


    And so they pressed on, hidden behind Della and her large oaken shield this time. Kids that grew up with stories about dragonslayers and the like looked down on wooden shields, but when fighting foes of one''s own weight class and below, wood was more than sturdy enough, and the weight was more managable too. Spending too much on expensive equipment that you''re not ready for was an unforgivably bad move for beginning aventurers. Even if Pete thought the green round thing looked kind of lame.


    "There." Rolf, with his keen eyes pointed in the distance. "You see dat? Smoke."


    "Damn. And I thought we were the first." Della cursed.


    "Blimey." Pete looked at the wispy smoke plume above the treetops. "Camping out ''ere? That''ll attract some goblins, won''t it?"


    "It''s a good trick." Rolf agreed. "But you''ll get big hordes, it''s not for beginners."


    "I''ll say." Pete chuckled. "Let us meet up with them lot, an'' see if they''re in need of any rescue."


    "Maybe save them from having to deal with too many gobs." Della smirked.


    "All out of the goodness of our heart of course." He said.


    <hr>


    "What is happening?" Letta spoke her first word in ages.


    Denise, who was peeling carrots over a pan swirled her head abruptely towards her, but then decided that she didn''t want to act too excitedly over the child''s first steps towards trusting them.


    "We''re camouflaging ourselves." She tried in her most calming voice. "So we''re not allowed to make any fire or make loud noises, that would attract adventurers."


    All the fires in the bandit camp had been put out, many of the animals had been put to pasture away from the camp, and most of the loud activities normally making a ruckus in their surroundings were suspended. All bandits kept inside at the moment, life in the camp had fallen still.


    "I''ll scream." Letta said, although she wasn''t screaming yet. "I''ll scream and an adventurer will come save me from the bandits."


    "Deary..." Denise looked upon her with a pitying look.


    "I''ll do it!" She said angrily.


    "And then? Where will you go?"


    Letta looked at her with big wet eyes, then she broke down. "I want to go ho-home! I wa-hant my mommy! Wuuuaaah!"


    Denise hugged her and pressed her against her bosom. "Shhh, shhh."


    Beth, one of the bandit warriors, peeked into the family''s tent. "Is everything okay in here?"


    Denise was holding the crying child and gestured for her to leave, to let them have some privacy.


    -


    Beth nodded with and understanding look, but stepped further into the tent and laid a spellrod next to the pan.


    "The heating rod, for cooking." She whispered and sneaked back out, as Letta was venting her frustration on Denise''s shirt.


    "We''ll get your momma back little girl. I promise we will."


    <hr>


    "I haven''t seen any of them goblins in a while." Rolf said.


    Della had an explanation for that. "Maybe the other adventurers are too strong and they fled."


    "That cannae be the cause." Pete explained. "Goblins are nah afraid of anything. That''s why they make fer such good hunting. They don''t run away."


    "So... does that mean tha-" Della''s sentence abruptely stopped as her heavy boot landed on a wooden object.


    As her weight was put on the short end of a a sharp corner, it was pushed down and wedged the other side up. Like stepping on a rake.


    A plank pierced at various places by sharp pieces of metal came flying at her shield. He training allowed her to immediately react and protect her face.


    *fwack*


    The weight wasn''t much, but she hadn''t blocked it it could have done serious damage with its sharp elements.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "What was tha?" Pete exclaimed in surprise.


    Della took her foot of the trap but grabbed before it could fall back into the leaves. "Some sort of trap, ah think?"


    "Too advanced fer goblins, to simple fer orcs." Pete mused.


    "Think it''s bandits, maybe?" Rolf suggested.


    "Nah, if there were bandits here, we''d know about them. Bandits steal and rob, people tend to notice when they''re stolen from and robbed."


    Rolf thought deeply. "Look, if there ain''t any goblins here..."


    "We keep going." Della stated authoratively. "We can never become D class if we avoid things like this."


    "Oh, I love it!" Pete sang. "We want ta be adventurers, we''ll have some adventures! A mystery is an excellent way to start one."


    "Maybe you''ll get a song out of it." Rolf quipped.


    "Maybe I will. Ye don''t know."


    -


    From that moment on they kept an eye out for traps, and found them in no short supply.


    They dodged a half chopped tree that was primed to fall over when a tripwire pulled away the support still holding it up, another splinter board like Della had stepped in before was spotted by Rolf and destroyed, and eventually they came across a pit trap.


    "What''d we have here?" Rolf whistled as he nudged away some of the coverings with his foot. "Must have been a lot of digging. A trap like this."


    "Whatever it is that''s camping out here, it''s been here a long time." Della said as she walked around the loose earth.


    "Rolf, you''re a ranger. Would ye say this is a decent trap?" Pete mused.


    "Are you kidding? This is like what a kid would come up with. When we make snares we-"


    "Eep!" Della yelped as a piece of rope tightened around her ankle and dragged her up.


    "Yeah. That''s more like it." Rolf said sardonically.


    "Get me down, get me down!" Della yelled from her upside down position. The counterweight was hardly heavier than she was and she bopped up and down as its weight and hers fought for balance.


    "Careful! You''re right above the-"


    Her shield dropped down and broke through the covering of the pit trap, revealing the sharp sticks underneath.


    After that, the whole construction snapped under the repeated movement and heavy load, so Della came tumbling after it.


    -


    Her two partymembers quickly positioned themselves on either side of the pit.


    "Della. Della, say something."


    She groaned. Falling flatly into the pit she had had maximum exposed surface area to be penetrated by the sharpened wood pikes. Many of them had been stopped from entering her by her thick leather padding, but still heavily hurt her with their concentrated impact. And two had gone in her and out the other side.


    Her right leg was held in place by a pike piercing it right below the knee.


    Another one had enterd her right above her collarbone, a few thumbreadths to the side and it would have pierced her throat and killed her.


    "I knew I was going to need healing." She gargled quippingly. "Get me out of here."


    As she brought her left leg down to the ground to give her some stability she felt it slip against wet earth. "Guys, get me out of this..."


    She stopped when she felt a cold slimy substance crawl onto her leg. In front of her, the blood trickling down the pike leaked onto a small pulsing slime crawling towards her face. She began to feel the burning.


    "Aaaaah! Ah!"


    Pete tried to step into the pit to grab her but pulled out his foot after stepping into one of the slimes. "What do we do? What do we do?" he whined panickingly.


    Rolf fired arrows at the mass of tiny slimes swallowing their comrade. His weapon had to be the least effective for fighting this kind of enemy. "Can''t you do magic? Do a fire spell or something!"


    "I''m a bard not a mage!"


    Under the screaming of their team mate, they both lowered themselves on their stomach and burned away at the slimes with the firestarter spell, the little flame for starting bonfires. But eventually Della stopped making any sound, dead.


    "Eaten by slimes..." Pete was silent about it. If in her life Della had heard about an adventurer dieing to slimes she would have openly mocked them. That she would die in such a humiliating fashion was a depressing thought.


    "Of all the cowardly tricks!" Rolf turned his eyes towards the smoke. The source couldn''t be far off now. "We''re definitely avenging her." He gnashed his teeth.


    <hr>


    "And.. Ki-cker." Scratch pronounced the syllables as he wrote the word on the large framed piece of slate on the wall. They had finally made a purpose for the fourth side room after the bird had been moved out and farther down.


    "Why the C?" Dumb asked, scribbling the letters on his own little piece of slate.


    "Otherwise he''d be called Kiker, which is a much less handsome name."


    Kicker nodded in agreement, he liked his name.


    "Now that you all know how to spell your name, let''s see you write each other''s." Scratch said. "And I''ll go check on the lookout.


    Biter and his sailors had since been relieved from lookout duty, and now Scream, Second and Fyro were manning the tower.


    Before he headed out, he took a quick glance at Barbara, who was now allowed to move between a few of the rooms at her own volition. She was still keeping the mysterious vial hidden, but it didn''t seem like she was planning anything, simply reading in the candlelight of her own room.


    They still had a large treasure of coin in their possession, but he had taken special measure to conceal it. The mined area below the sand layer had the day before been covered up with packed clay. The wealth had been hidden there. He didn''t trust Barbara to know about it.


    -


    Outside the sun was going down, tinting the sky into a warm orange as he lifted himself up on the tower.


    "How are things?" He asked.


    "Boring." Fyro complained, sitting on the box of crossbow bolts. "No adventurers."


    "Every day no adventurers show up is a good day." Scratch stated. "When there are ones that reach this place, then we''ll know the trouble started."


    "I think Fyro wants to move around more." Second said.


    "Is that so, well maybe you''ll want to join us check the traps outside the perimeter after sundown."


    Fyro looked away. "Yeah. Okay. Fine."


    Scratch flicked his ear.


    "Hey, what?"


    "That''s for giving me attitude. And for not paying attention to the perimeter. We''ve got company."


    From the edge of the platform two men climbing over the tree trunks that made up the perimeter were clearly visible. One holding a longbow, the other a guitar or ukulele of some kind.


    "Are those adventurers?" Fyro asked, as Scream brought the crossbow to his face and fired.


    "They don''t seem very well equipped for fighting." Scratch said. "But let''s kill first and ask questions later."


    Second whistled on two fingers to alert the rest of the family in the cave.


    <hr>


    Rolf nimbly climbed over the tree trunk onto the muddy grassland.


    He turned around to help Pete over the barrier.


    "Be alert." He said. "I see some characters on that podium over there. They might-"


    An arrow shot through the air and right into Pete''s thigh. "Aw, FUCK!" He cursed from the pain.


    A sharp whistle came from the podium and Rolf returned fire as quickly as possible, striking down the crossbowman that had hit Pete. What are those? Halflings? He wondered, as he quickly knocked another arrow.


    He put down some suppressive fire on the platform creatures and looked around for a more defensive position. He cursed. The tree trunks had been laid down in such a way that all trees and stumps were on the other side. To see the enemy he had to be on this side, to hide from them on the other. And climbing back right now meant turning his back on them.


    "How''s your leg?" He asked the bard.


    Pete pulled the bolt out of his thigh, there was no arrowhead or barb to make it harder. With a simple healing spell the wound dissapeared.


    "I''m running out of mana." Pete answered. "We dunnae have a vanguard to protect us now, so we better kill them quickly."


    "We will." Rolf assured him. "But we need to close the distance and make it a melee."


    "Consider it done." Pete grabbed his lute and inserted his last reserves of mana. "You know this one." He strummed a harmonious melody and the winds changed.


    <hr>


    "What''s happening?" The criminal mastermind was distressed, his troubles were supposed to be over after he had muscled out the Syndicate, but they were compounding.


    First there was this fallout in the unions, he had barely turned his back and the power structure keeping his toadies in check collapsed. So now he couldn''t use strikes against the police anymore.


    Then a cop he bought got caught in an internal investigation and pointed their finger at him to save his own skin, so he had have a public hit to send a signal to the others that wasn''t acceptable.


    Now the hitman had gotten himself killed somehow, the code phrase was never relayed, so he had to come by personally to clean house.


    It was like everybody he worked with was suddenly overcome with a complete and profound incompetence.


    -


    "I didn''t sign up for this." The security guard of the highway hotel panicked. He grabbed for the door back to the lobby.


    The mastermind sighed and drew his gun. "Stay here."


    The middle aged man looked at him in shock.


    "Now tell me what''s going on."


    The two gentlemen who were staying in room seven... Now I know that whatever a man does, or two men do to each other, in their own time and of their own volition, is none of my business, no sir, but the things th-"


    "For heaven''s sake, man, skip to the end."


    "There was a fight, of some sort. A young man I''ve never seen come through this here door, he burst through the fishtank and talking all sorts of things about.. I don''t know, justice, some goddess I believe? It was all very confusing. And I didn''t sign up to have the building destroyed by hooligans during my shift! I''m calling the police."


    "Now hold it right there, I bought your silence, didn''t I?"


    "Well, yes, but-"


    "And we know each other well, I''ve met your wife-"


    "Wife? I don''t have a wife."


    "Sister, I met your sister and you in your home." If this had been a properly planned operation he would have been able to read up on the stakes and assets and what his hold over them was. But it was haphazard damage control from a cascade of failures, he barely remembered the guard. "We had a nice little chat. I know her face, I know where she lives, you both live."


    The security guard choked.


    The criminal with the gun took a cigarette out of his pocket into his mouth, and then immediately put it back. He didn''t have time to smoke. "Now listen here. Nothing bad is going to happen to you or your sister, or your job, capishe? All that''s going to happen; is a little shortcircuit in the fusebox, cutting out the lights, cutting out security footage, makes sense?"


    The guard nodded quietly, eyeing the weapon.


    "Then, you call the fire department."


    "The fire department."


    "Yeah, you know, the fire department, the firefighters, those guys. You know them?"


    "I do."


    "You do, great, splendid, excellente. So the firefighters show up, quell the fire. You''re the big hero. Your boss gets his insurance money. Everybody''s happy, big whoop. Alright?"


    "What fire?"


    "Oh, there''ll be a fire. Now you show me where that fusebox is."


    -


    Once he had entered the cheap motel room, he put down his jerrycan of petroleum so he could inspect the scene.


    The cop was strung up upside down above the bed, as had been planned. There was no sign of him going out fighting and taking his attacker with him.


    In fact, the body of the hitman was sitting in the closet, on his knees and in the begging position. It almost seemed like he had been killed with a flame thrower, although his surroundings showed no scorch marks.


    The criminal started pouring the fuel over the bed, pouring the last drops in a little trail towards the door.


    Almost too late he realized he was not alone, on top of the single story building sat what looked to be a teenager. It didn''t seem like he had seen him, he was retreated into his own world or else he was extremely stoic.. A young man he''d never seen before. Did he mean this kid? Why is he still here?


    The teen seemed to be muttering to himself. "-what I had to do to service justice. But what if I had made him talk, we would''ve come closer to the brain behind- no, I understand, I apologize-"


    No headset or phone in sight, he was a dangerous schizophrenic. A mad twist of fate that his agent would be wiped out by a deranged madman. But not a sign of a larger campaign against him. He gently placed the can down and backed out of the room. The wretch would make a good scapegoat for the arsony.


    He lit a cigarette and threw it onto the petrol. The fire was flashy and immediate. Right, let''s skedaddle. He told himself.


    -


    As he upturned his collar and briskly walked away to remove himself from the scene, he could suddenly feel the wind changing behind him.


    As he dared to look the madman had jumped off the building and, taken by an unnatural slipstream of wind, propelled through the air. His feet touched the ground a minimal amount of time as he ran over the roads and beyond sight.


    The whole situation was baffling and supernatural. What the hell is happening to the world?


    <hr>


    When Scream released the bolt it hit one of the men in the leg, but barely stunned him. The other shot an arrow from his long bow, after barely taking any time to aim.


    It flew through the air and hit Scream just below the shoulder, he fell to the ground.


    Scratch tried to grab the crossbow, but an arrow was flying through the air and hit the planks just between him and the instrument.


    Another one hit them on the other side of the weapon, near where Fyro stood.


    Deciding to risk getting hit by another arrow Scratch lunged for the crossbow and turned towards the invaders.


    The spectacle was a magical one, as he turned to them an unnatural headwind flared up. Leaves raced towards them from the forest and the bolt he shot was blown away by the elements.


    Their enemy took advantage of the sudden gust and propelled themselves forward, taking enormous jumping steps to reach the tower in a few heartbeats.


    The archer had thrown aside his longbow and was holding a large hunting knife, in a single bound he jumped up to the edge of the platform, holding the thing above his head. Scratch could see the white of his eyes, in this moment of concentration the hunter had no expression on his face. Whatever motivated this daring move couldn''t be read. Scratch knew that face, it was the face of a professional killer.


    The adventurer thrusted the weapon downwards, Scratch caught it with the crossbow. Even redirecting the attack wasn''t feasible with the enormous amount of strength the individual possessed. So instead he pushed himself away from the attack and let go of the crossbow as it came crashing into the ground.


    He rolled backwards over the splintery wooden planks, disarmed.


    "You''re feeling like a big man?" Scratch tried to see if words could bring him out of his concentration, but the attacker charged him as if he hadn''t even heard it. Scratch sprung backwards again, over the other edge of the tower platform, and to the ground, this time.


    -


    The second attacker jumped up to the platform too, first putting one hand on the edge and then throwing both his legs over it. Second and Fyro immediately reacted by swinging at him with spears, he tried to defend his face with one hand and his instrument with the other, falling backwards again.


    Instead of chasing after Scratch the first attacker turned around and swung his knife at Fyro, giving him a nasty gash on his right hand and making him drop the spear. He then went in close for the coup de grace.


    His knife sliced at Fyro''s throat just as his hand was hit by a comet-like pebble, redirecting the movement to make him cut only the side of the neck and causing him to scream in pain, but not drop the knife.


    All the way back in the square stood Dumb, loading up another pebble into his sling. He had stayed behind to take a ranged shot while a horde of his goblin brothers poured forward in front of him towards the platform.


    -


    Arriving at the base a few boosted the others up so they could step onto the platform without putting themselves in a vulnerable position climbing it.


    Scratch, who had just gotten the wind knocked out of him, recovered fast enough to help Fat throw Kicker onto the tower, Laugh and Abel got on in similar ways.


    Suddenly the human was surrounded by five goblins, wielding long reaching weapons while he had only a knife.


    This time they could see the emotion in his face. He was contemplating retreat, and then decided against it. He turned towards Fyro, whom he wanted to kill first, but noticed the young goblin''s side arm, a human kitchen knife racing towards his stomach.


    He thrashed madly at him with his own weapon and both had to distance themselves from each other not to take damage. The others all dove in on him simultaneously. A barrage of multiple attacks he couldn''t deflect, but where somewhat stelped by his protective clothing.


    He grasped Laugh''s spear out of midair and yanked it out of his hands, trying to use it to swat away the others, but just as he did that Fyro''s knife dug into the side of his ankle, making him lose his stance and allowing Kickers pointy iron speartip to slice into his upper lip and nose.


    The man fell backwards, crying in pain, and tumbled off the tower. Where he saw his compatriot being held down and sliced open by Scratch and a few other goblins that had circled around the tower from both ways.


    If there was anything to read in his face it was a sort of peace, an acceptance of his fate, right before his own throat got pierced.


    <hr>


    Bard Class


    The bard class is a support role, meaning it is not recommended for solo adventurers.


    Adventurers registered as bards have access to infused instruments from the guild store, as well as musical training and spellcasting lessons.


    Songs registered to the guild after being developed will be officially credited to the composer in guild records.


    Parties with bard members may take divination or performance quests.


    Bards are one of the rarest classes to reach S rank, though some examples exist throughout history. Nevertheless, it is a profession respected for its ability to protect against debilitating mental effects.

 Survivors

    Barbara idly flicked through the pages of the old herbal guide.


    She barely read the notes on the plants and their properties, just the names and the prominent quotes about them by experts.


    When Scratch took away the goblins to take part in lessons it left her alone and kind of lonely. He would do that every evening for exercise and meditation, and now for his little reading class too.


    She wasn''t planning on asking to join them, she still had that much pride left, but it did leave her with a spot of time to fill up.


    She paused to listen to the class making noise and talking over each other. She believed she could make out the different voices now, her own brood of course, who she spend so much time with, but also the others.


    Dumb couldn''t keep his voice down, he didn''t seem to understand that he was not the alpha male. He would frequently attempt to talk over others.


    Quiet, in contrast, was almost never heard. His presence was very non-threatening.


    She could hear Kicker or Biter ask questions, but they were very similar. Not just in their voices and manner of speaking, but in personality too.


    There were two others that were part of Scratch''s main entourage, probably all part of the same litter, Second and Fat they were called. Second wasn''t in the other room, his distinctive run-on sentences were notable in their absence. Fat could be, she''d know if she heard some insecure stammering.


    The leader''s, Scratch''s, voice could be heard clearly through the halls. He spoke with the lowest timbre his little body could produce, his voice was still childlike, but he managed to imbue it with a mature and authoritative presence. He was in control of the conversation. She didn''t always make out what exactly was being said, but every thread of dialogue was sustained and concluded by that voice.


    Scream, Laugh, and Digger, the older, more decrepit goblins usually had to stay in the background of gatherings like these. They weren''t part of the family, not really.


    -


    A little pang ran across Barbara''s heart as she heard Linus answer a question or read something aloud. She knew he had more trouble learning than his brothers, and she had helped him read when together in the living room.


    She had birthed many goblins, but never interacted with them. Now that she was forced to take care of them, she began to recognize aspects of herself in them.


    So too Linus, who would get insecure about his elder brothers being more athletic and more adept at household tasks.


    These creatures, they were not her sons. She would never love them. But Linus, she hated the least.


    Not that that''d stop me. She decided, turning to her book again. Next time adventurers break open this place I''ll escape, and let the lot get killed.


    A loud whistle came from outside and the sounds of the goblin class changed.


    "Adventurers."


    "Humans."


    "Grab a spear, grab a sling. Let''s go!"


    What, already? She got a lump in her throat. It''d didn''t have to be right now.


    <hr>


    "Scream? Scream." Scratch tried to get through to the older goblin, who was stricken down by an enemy projectile.


    Scream was clutching the arrow that had entered his body below the shoulder and groaned in pain. He tugged on it, but the wide arrowhead had lodged itself behind the fiber of his muscle, making him spasm from the pain.


    "Hold his arm up." Scratch instructed to whoever was near, which happened to be Fyro.


    "Scream, can you try breathing in and out really deeply for me?"


    Scream tried to do as instructed, but his breathing was constricted by the foreign object in his chest.


    Scratch took his knife and cut apart the padded clothing around Scream''s wound. The arrow shaft stuck out at a straight angle from his body, the skin around it was starting to change hue from internal bleeding.


    "Oh, boy, o boy." Scratch wiped the sweat of his brow with his forearm.


    "Pull it out?" Fyro asked, clutching his own painful paw.


    "We can''t do that, we''d rip his body apart."


    "Leave it in."


    "We can''t do that either, the wound can''t heal and will get infected."


    By now the entire group had circled around Scream, saying nothing as the goblin clenched his teeth trying to keep from crying.


    "Magic." Fat said suddenly.


    <hr>


    Barbara snuck up to the entrance. If the adventurers had managed to slay the goblins, they would have commenced in looting the hideout already. It didn''t seem like she would be easily rescued, but perhaps she could make use of the chaos to escape, or create a diversion of her own to help them.


    She clutched a knife in one hand the toxin in the other, it wouldn''t work on regular goblins, but perhaps Scratch...


    Through the opening burst Dumb, quickly followed by Scratch. She held the vial over her head to throw it when behind him Kicker and Fyro carried in another goblin, an arrow sticking out of his chest.


    Scratch looked at her up and down. He had caught her doing something suspicious, she felt a slight panic at being discovered and, oddly enough, guilt.


    But he didn''t address it. "Magic, you know magic. Heal him."


    -


    Barbara did not know healing magic. Benesant''s healing arts were a high discipline, they required education.


    On top of that, she had spend all her mana on a candlelight spell only a few days before.


    The goblins laid their comrade on a pelt and ordered her to fix him.


    What could she do? She dug into herself and strangely did find a significant amount of her mana having replenished in only a few days.


    Deciding on the next best thing she chanted a mnemonic to help her complete the steps of a cleaning spell. "Histolf''s Grace."


    The palm of her hand started to glow in a cleansing light, which she put on the wound.


    Scream, the goblin, thrashed from the painful sting.


    "H-hey, mom! You''re hurting him." Fyro exclaimed.


    "I''m disinfecting the wound." She explained. "That''s all I can do."


    <hr>


    All Barbara''s magic could do was remove the filth inside Scream''s arrow-wound.


    When the procedure was over Scream lay on the ground, panting. The others spread out over the room, to give him space.


    "If you don''t remove the arrow, he won''t survive." Barbara stated coldly. She had no love for the creature.


    "Barbara," Scratch stated in a formal manner, "thank you. Kicker, Biter, please escort the lady back to her cell, tie her up this time."


    "Why?" Abel asked, a little hurt. "She helped Scream."


    "Because I said so. Now go."


    After his words Barbara was returned to her prison, the bodies were collected, and the watch was resumed. This time, the amount of goblins on and around the tower was increased.


    The crossbow had been broken in battle. It wasn''t completely obliterated but it was non-functional at the moment. So Dumb, Linus, Benjamin, and Fat were holding slings, a large pile of pebbles and left over debris from the mine heaped up behind them. Laugh, Kicker, Biter, George and Abel covered them with spears.


    Fyro and Scream where in the foyer being looked after by Quiet, with some help from Mac.


    That left Scratch and Second to go over the inventory.


    -


    The slight cover over the washing basin was a suitable location to inspect the invaders'' weapons and the broken crossbow.


    "This is the kind of thing buried into Scream." Scratch held up the arrow. "The arrowhead stops you from just pulling it out. Our own bolts did very little to the enemy in that regard."


    Second tugged on the string on the longbow. "Ugh. It doesn''t work."


    "No, I don''t think any of us can shoot this thing. That requires a lot of strength. But to go back to the arrowheads, do you think you can make them?"


    Second took a moment to adjust his thinking. He had been entrusted with tinkering before, having the most talent for toolmaking of the group, but up till then that had only involved following Scratch''s instructions, now he was asked to think creatively. "I think..." He looked at the arrowhead from multiple angles. "...that making it out of stone would make it too heavy for the crossbow, if we can even repair it."


    "I was afraid of that." Scratch sighed. "And we wanted to avoid having to cast too much iron... well, maybe during the night..."


    "Bones." Second answered. "We''ve got a lot of bones laying around we''re not using, and teeth, and nails of animals, those things are lighter than stone, I think I can make something out of those, we can shoot them, if we get the crossbow working again, I mean."


    "And, can we?"


    "Maybe, the long side here is splintered, it won''t fire ''cause the little pin can''t move, if we hold it right, like this, it can go off, we can''t hold it right and fire it at the same time, but if we get it to stay like this..."


    "I see, so you want to splint it with a plank and some rope."


    "If we can do that, it can be used again."


    "We can. Let''s see what more we have, though."


    Both humans had been wearing padded leather, it was of superior quality to that the goblins wore as protection, but not fundamentally different.


    Beside that, instead of a weapon, the second adventurer had been holding a musical instrument.


    "What is this?" Second tried to figure out the intended use of the wooden object. He swung it through the air a few times trying to see how it would be used as a weapon, but coming up short.


    "I''m going to inquire about this." Scratch said. "I''ll be right back."


    <hr>


    Gubok scratched his snout.


    He was starting to get used to this life. That was what annoyed him.


    He had been afraid to return to the camp, after Ragar had led them into defeat. So he had lived in isolation for a while, with nothing but humanoids around him.


    He contemplated his sorry fate some more while eating one of the creatures'' arms.


    After escaping the battlefield where they had fought the larger humanoids, he had take refuge among a tribe of the smaller ones. These had been bought by Kubar and Grat before, they could speak and were wielding the tools of a superior civilization, and had used them to drive a flock of social tree nesting birds from their territory in order to make the large nests their homes.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    They had been eager to please him, an orc. They had given him a home below one of the lower nests, and had fed him plants and wildlife which could only be hunted with orcen equipment. Until his legs had healed enough for him to walk by himself.


    When the tribe was overrun by their larger cousins he had decided to fight them off using Ragar''s warhammer. Even though there were six of them they were easily incapacitated.


    After that the weaker creatures were able to breed with the females among the stronger, and the tribe started to grow.


    As a member of the chosen people Gubok could breed with humanoids too, but now was not the time for that. He would leave soon, and rejoin the horde.


    Until that time he was content in letting the creatures feed him, commanding them, and eating those among them that failed him.


    -


    The longer he delayed returning to Kubar, the more fearful the prospect, until one day he realized he could never return.


    It was humiliating, to live without a horde, purely for oneself. But the most damning thing of all, he thought to himself as he sucked out the bone marrow, was that he could live with it. Insignificance in an orcen horde, or royalty among vermin. Strangely, he seemed very well suited for it.


    His stomach grumbled, too much white meat. He grunted and lifted himself up by the hammer. Time to grab a few handfuls of the berries the humanoids had collected.


    "Master. Please. No Eat." The eldest of the creatures pleaded with him. Its throat was clearly unsuited for proper language and it strained itself to bring about the words.


    Gubok kicked him aside. "If you haven''t gotten enough to eat, I''ll try slaughtering you a bit quicker, so you won''t have as much mouths to feed." He laughed cruelly, before stuffing his mouth.


    Perhaps soon he would breed with the females. He wouldn''t be able to start his how horde, not with Kubar or the more powerful humanoids around, but he had given up thinking about the future now, all he cared about was satisfying his desires.


    He leered at the women, they were kept in a higher nest, with no easy way to climb down. One was already pregnant with the next litter. These little monsters breed fast.


    As he looked at them, the youngest seemed to notice something and leaned on the side of the nest.


    *Haaaahp* It shrieked.


    <hr>


    "Well then, let''s see." Scratch lowered himself next to Second with the smoking pipe in his hand.


    Second looked up from the stick he was measuring against the crossbow. "What are you doing?"


    "If I smoke this I get to talk to the creature digging our cave. Don''t ask me how, I don''t understand it either." He put down his pouch, now empty of the blue grass.


    There are still humans in the forest, if that''s what you were going to ask. Cyclophan lead with.


    The more I think I understand their movements, the more I''m proven wrong. What''s with the ukulele?


    It''s an magically infused lute.


    "Can I try?" Second asked.


    Holding his breath to keep the smoke in his lungs Scratch handed him the pipe. Is it a weapon?


    Not one a goblin can use. Magical instruments are just slightly more versatile spellrods.


    Second coughed and handed him the pipe back, he put on a disgusted expression.


    "Hear anything?"


    "No. Bleh."


    Communion with a god isn''t that simple, Scratch. The pipe works because you''re my champion, anybody else would need years of practice in mysticism and a bigger amount of mana than you can get puffing a bit of blue grass.


    What were you saying about instruments? They''re spillrods?


    Spellrods. You know. Those wands that cast a spell for you if you put a bit of mana in them.


    And humans use these?


    Well, I mean. If you have the mana capacity, you might as well learn the spell, right? But an infused lute has some versatility, that makes up for the material costs. And it''s a musical practice, so their patron gods can teach them via inspiration.


    Hold up, hold up. That''s a lot of information to take in. The adventurers, they play music on something like this, and that creates magic?


    Of course.


    Of course. I don''t know why I''m surprised at anything anymore.


    Think of it like this. Music is made up out of harmonies, so is magic. When music touches a person, its because th vibrations are resonating with a part of their soul. It doesn''t take a lot of work for magic to touch the mind if its hitches a ride on a medium like that. That''s why musical magic is the first and most ancient kind. The gods discovered that they could convey their wisdom to the souls of their followers via divine inspiration, and the songs these bards would sing could soothe and protect the souls of the allies and hurt or confuse the souls of their enemies.


    I''m going to stop you here, Cyclophan. I have given up on understanding magic. It all sounds like hokey to me, I assume you need to be able to feel it to understand.


    This was your last grass?


    Yes, and I''m not going to get more with all these adventurers around.


    It''s fine. If it''s pressing I''ll invade your dreams for it.


    Ugh.


    <hr>


    ¡¾Rudy, I think we should be going back now.¡¿


    The sun is going down, therefore Xandra wants to go back to uncle. This suppression mission was only supposed to be for today.


    ¡¾Okay.¡¿I state.¡¾Just one more encounter, then we should call it a day.¡¿


    ¡¾Rudy... why are you so invested in this all of a sudden?¡¿


    I can''t tell her about the story, and why the spring amulet is important. Without the amulets of the four seasons the hero will never discover the realm of the gods and defeat Malsidious'' true form.


    I pause.¡¾Xandra, ano... do you believe in past lives?¡¿


    ¡¾Past lives? Rudy, what are you talking about?¡¿


    ¡¾I- I think I might-¡¿


    ¡¾HEEEEEEEEEEELP!¡¿


    A woman''s voice cries out towards us, interrupting me.


    We look around and see her trapped on a bird''s nest-like platform halfway up the tree on another hill.


    ¡¾Goblins!¡¿I exclaim as I see her captors climb over her to silence her.


    ¡¾Rudy, what do we do? Defeating a goblin nest is a promotion quest for a whole party, we can''t take them on with just the two of us.¡¿


    Really? Goblins are weak though. Why is defeating a bunch of them in one place suddenly a big deal?¡¾Nobody but us is going to help her.¡¿I say.¡¾Remember what uncle said? There are countless captured women, they''re not going to seek her out.¡¿


    ¡¾Then we have to do it.¡¿She responds.¡¾Defying the odds is what being a hero is all about.¡¿


    The way she says that actually makes me want to fight them less. Heroes? There were a set number of heroes in ''four realms'', and none of them were called Rudy or Xandra. We are mob characters, faces in a crowd. A quiet life on the country is the best, that''s what we should aspire for.


    ¡¾Wait.¡¿I touch her shoulder as we see a dozen or so goblins line up between us and their nest.¡¾I have the rogue class now. Maybe I can do something rogue-ish, instead of fighting them head-on.¡¿


    ¡¾They''ve already spotted us!¡¿


    ¡¾Distract them, lead them away if you have to. I''m going to try to sneak in.¡¿


    Xandra nods. It''s a risky plan, having a novice adventurer fight so many enemies by herself, even if they are just goblins.


    -


    When the goblins approach they''re shooting crossbow bolts and swinging with halberds, Xandra shouts a lot and moves back to get them to chase after her.


    Meanwhile I hide behind the trees and circle around back to their nest.


    There are multiple small nests at various places on the crooked and bendy trees. Perhaps the goblins weaved them themselves, or perhaps they had belonged to some manner of bird before.


    I carefully sneak around their camp, the goblins are agitated and excited about seeing another woman, and they''re not keeping an eye out for intruders.


    I pull myself up various branches and sideways trunks to get up the prisoner''s nest.


    As it turns out, there are two prisoners. A young woman with blonde hair and a slightly older brunette, the second is pregnant.


    The goblin hasn''t seen me, it''s holding down the blonde girl who had screamed out for help and pulling up her skirt to do something to her.


    I carefully let go of the branch with one hand to unsheathe a throwing knife. In order to not alarm the others I have to make the kill quickly and silently.


    The pregnant woman has noticed me, I nod, she nods. She knows better than to make a sound.


    Just as I jump on to the nest she grabs the goblin from behind, pulling it backwards and exposing its stomach and throat for me. As quickly as possible I stab it in as many places as possible.


    It makes a short yelp but then falls down, choking on its own blood.


    ¡¾We need to burst out of here, while they''re distracted.¡¿I quickly explain.


    ¡¾I can''t fight without my saber, the blonde states.¡¾Angela here is carrying a litter.¡¿


    ¡¾Watch out!¡¿Angela yells.¡¾He''s he-¡¿


    Before I understand what she''s talking about I feel something hooking my leg and pulling me to the ground. As I smack down painfully on the dry earth I see a menacing pig''s face snarling at me.


    I don''t need the adventurer''s guild''s guide to know what kind of creature that is. It''s a staple monster of many fantasy games, the beast-like orc.


    Without catching my breath I dodge the warhammer that had been used to pull me off the platform.


    The monster was carrying a large hammer and shield, as its weapon impacted the ground it created a cloud of dust with a muffled sound.


    Orcs are mid level enemies, not something a starting adventurer should face.


    I take one look at the gruff creature about to charge me, and start running the other way. Why? All I wanted was a peaceful life.


    ¡¾My saber, my saber!¡¿I hear the girl shout.


    Sure enough, one of the goblins is holding a weapon that is much more beautiful than the others. The orcs'' metal is an evil black, while man made steel is shiny and sleek.


    I glance over my shoulder over my shoulder, the orc is still chasing me.


    With no other recourse I throw my knife at the goblin with the saber, piercing him in the eye. The other goblins close in on me as I jump roll over the falling body, grabbing the saber and throwing it at the orc.


    He casually dodges it.


    Now I''m surrounded by goblins with edged weapons and only my throwing knives to defend me.


    ¡¾Hi-ya!¡¿A goblin thrusts his weapon toward me, but gets his head bashed in by Xandra, who has appeared from behind him.


    Xandra you''re a hero! Well, not a hero, but a hero to me.


    She needs to bash it a few more times before it dies, but draws the enemy''s fire on herself while she does it.


    I pull the weapon out of the dying goblin''s grip and mow it around to force them back.


    Just as I do that, I see the blonde and her friend fighting the orc with her saber. So she did manage to grab it after I threw it her way. Good.


    -


    In the end, we can only force them back and run away.


    I have to throw the stolen halberd at the feet of the orc to stop him from catching up to us.


    He''s slowed down by his heavy equipment, but so is Angela, by her condition.


    ¡¾Thank you for saving us.¡¿Says the blonde after we have gotten far enough away from the nest.¡¾I''m Theresa, this is Angela. We''re adventurers too. Or we were, I suppose.¡¿


    ¡¾You were pretty good with that sword.¡¿Xandra states enthusiastically.¡¾Were you here for the culling too?¡¿


    ¡¾No, my child.¡¿Angela answers for her.¡¾We have been here a wee bit longer. A retrieval mission a few weeks ago, it went horribly wrong as you can well see. We did not expect an orc among these here goblins.¡¿


    ¡¾Our party members... dead.¡¿Theresa mumbles solemnly.


    ¡¾We''ll take you back.¡¿Xandra says emphatically, looking at Angela''s encumbered body.¡¾I''m sure uncle won''t mind.¡¿


    ¡¾Oh, you poor kids, you''re all scratched up.¡¿Angela exclaims.


    I look at my arms. In the heat of the battle I hadn''t noticed it, but many of the hits the goblins took landed. I am covered in gashes and scrapes.¡¾And we couldn''t even harvest any of their ears.¡¿


    ¡¾Let me heal that for you.¡¿She says.¡¾Benesant''s mercy!¡¿As soon as she finishes the incantation we are surrounded by specks of light, surrounding or bodies and closing up the wounds.


    ¡¾That''s amazing.¡¿


    ¡¾Every party needs a healer.¡¿Theresa comments.¡¾I''m a duelist myself.¡¿


    ¡¾Maybe we can party up with you!¡¿Xandra responds.¡¾Xandra''s party could use one of each. If we form a strong enough party, we can come back and take revenge on that orc.¡¿


    Theresa gives an awkward smile. We may have saved them but we''re just level F kids, playing at being adventurers, they could probably party up with much better.


    -


    As we go back the orc is on my mind.


    According to the events of the game, the dungeon is inhabited by orcs six years from now. Currently, there is no permanent orc population in these woods. At least, that''s what I thought. But here we found an orc mini-boss at the end of a goblin nest. What if that orc is the one that claims the dungeon? Would killing him change the future, or is the future predetermined? I simply don''t know.


    <hr>


    After it had become sufficiently dark, it was deemed that any adventurers still up and about seeking goblins would have a big disadvantage in terms of sight. It was therefore safe for the goblins to go out and check the traps.


    It seemed that most of them had been spotted and circumvented, but one held a dead adventurer. Dumb''s idea to include slimes in the trap had been successful, the half digested remains of a human woman where hanging on the spikes of a pit trap.


    Abel took the shield she was carrying for himself. It was kind of big for him, but he liked the idea of blocking incoming projectiles.


    On of the traps had a large pheasant running around inside a pit. Kicker had been about to kill it, but Scratch stopped him. "It''s jungle fowl." He said.


    -


    When they came back to the cave more protective walls had been added to the front of the tower. Battlements to protect against enemy fire.


    Second and George had created the beginnings of what looked to be a larger, stationary crossbow, using the longbow taken from the dead adventurer.


    The adventurers'' bodies had been stripped of their clothes and thrown into the slime gulch. Now that the slimes had a purpose, they were eager to feed them and have them multiply.


    Inside, the pheasant was added to the bird pen, in the hopes that it would be evolved into a cockatrice.


    Fyro had been treated for his wounds, and wasn''t allowed to partake in battle until it had healed.


    Barbara was sleeping.


    And Scream was dying.


    -


    Scream had been relocated to a bedroom lower down, where he was being looked after by Quiet, but his whimpering and gasping could still be heard even in the foyer.


    "I''m going to take a walk." Scratch stated and went outside.


    "What''s going on with Scratch?" Fyro wanted to know, scratching at his bandage.


    "He''s always been like this." Biter answered. "He can''t stand screaming."


    <hr>


    "I don''t want to die." Scream squeezed Digger''s hand as he braced himself against the painful pangs.


    "If we do not remove the arrow, you will die eventually. If we do, you might die immediately." Quiet stated, his voice more confident and stable than his usual whispers. He cupped the back of Scream''s head and layed him down on the prepared sand, which was supposed to absorb the blood.


    Digger held Scream''s hand tightly. "Be brave. We''ve been through so much. Remember the cold winter? Remember the hunger with Horns?"


    "When I''m gone..." Scream stared at the ceiling. "Who will remember those for me? Who will know we existed?"


    "Scream. Come on..." Digger was distraught by Scream''s fatalism. He had followed him almost his entire life, and now he was crumbling.


    "I''m going to pull it out." Quiet announced, as he was done cleaning the skin around the arrow wound.


    "Wait!" Scream was panicky and scared. "Wait. Before that. One more thing."


    <hr>


    "So he didn''t make it?" Scratch helped carry the body out of the cave. He was a lot more comfortable with current corpses than with imminent corpses. A dead body is just an object, it doesn''t feel anything. His animal instincts of empathy and pity weren''t triggered by corpses, only living beings did that, no matter how hard he suppressed it.


    "...no." Quiet whispered shyly.


    "And what is the deal with all this?"


    On the side of the wall, in big block letters stood a carving. "SCREAM WAS HERE"


    "He was very happy to be taught writing." Quiet eventually managed to bring out, after they had dispose of the body.


    "He wanted something about him to survive forever, I think."


    "Hhhm." Scratch grumbled. "Let''s not make it a habit. Before we''ll know it half the surface of our home is going to be covered in aphorisms like this one."


    "Unless nobody else dies."


    "Unless... haha, yeah. But they will."


    Even in his pessimism, Scratch had no idea how true his statement was.


    <hr>


    Class Duelist


    The duelist class is a close combat role, mostly suitable for fighting one-on-one with powerful enemies.


    Adventurers registered as duelists have access to dueling weapons from the guild store and personal combat training.


    Duelists usually rely on maneuverability, rather than protection, and polish their skill with one specific type of weapon.


    Most solo adventurers are duelists, and many of the history''s most legendary heroes were duelists as well.

 Cut Down

    Letta watched Denise boil the water using a spellrod. It was a cumbersome process, a fire would burn by itself, but a spellrod required the user to keep a hold of it and fill it with mana. So the woman sat on her place in front of the pot waiting for the potatoes to stew.


    "Are you already getting hungry, deary?" The woman said.


    "Hhmm." Letta responded. She was in one of her foul moods.


    She would get in a foul mood when she caught herself having fun. She had absolutely no reason to be happy, not when her father and brother were dead, and her mother was being kept by goblins. The problem was that sometimes she would forget.


    Just moments before Cobaline, the girl her age, had convinced her to help her feed the animals.


    The way Cobaline did it it was like a game of make-believe, where the animals were characters, some were being too greedy, some were not being treated fairly, and so on. When one big had acted silly and fallen over trying to eat the food before it came out of the bag Letta had laughed out loud. Laughing when you should be mourning was strictly forbidden, so she had immediately left and was now pouting in front of the pan.


    "Say, Letta, would you be a dear and hand me that cup of spice over there?" Cobaline''s mother asked her. She groaned and grabbed the ingredient. It wasn''t Denise''s fault, of course. But it offended Letta that people would just go on with their life like this. That the world would keep turning when hers had been destroyed.


    "I spoke with our leader today." Denise said matter-of-factly. "She said there might be a way to save your mother."


    Letta almost dropped the spice. "She said that? What did she say?"


    Denise looked a bit guilty. "She said there might be. Uhm, the goblins might tell us where they took her, in exchange for one or the other... Next month."


    "Next month?" Letta handed over the ingredient, careful to be polite. "They''ll make us wait a month?"


    "If we can find something to give in exchange..."


    "Anything. I-I don''t have anything, but please-"


    "I''m sure that Lydia will pay anything to help your family deary, if you''ve been a good kid."


    "I will. I''ll be good."


    After that, Letta forgot to be sad for a while again.


    <hr>


    The goblins stopped making fire the days after the first attack, to not show their location.


    It worked the first day, the only adventurer they found had had his head bashed in by a log on a rope, a trap devised by Fat.


    However, as the days went on the amount of adventurers exploring the surroundings went up. Inevitably, some wandered into the family''s territory.


    -


    Scratch was napping in the foyer after being up the previous night, when a sharp whistle sound came from outside.


    As he pulled himself up Second and Digger were already running through the entrance towards the danger.


    Spears had been lined up against the wall outside, so they could be quickly grabbed on one''s way to the perimeter.


    Coming outside he saw Abel, Dumb and George on the tower. They had sounded the alarm after having seen a trio of humans invade the space.


    Behind him, Fyro rushed towards the commotion with a spear in his unwounded hand.


    "No, Fyro, you''re injured." He said, pulling the younger goblin back.


    "I''ve been practicing, I can fight with the other hand!"


    "You''ll get in our way, stay back."


    Fyro groaned as he let Kicker take his spear for himself.


    -


    Just as before a horde of armed goblins swarmed around the humans as they fended off the thrown pebbles from the tower''s sling users.


    One was a large man wielding a metal kite shield, putting his body between his two comrades and the projectiles. The others were another bow user and a seemingly unarmed robed woman.


    They couldn''t haven chosen a more tactical place to climb over the perimeter, the newly constructed longbow shooter and the defenses on the platform all pointed forwards, away from the little town, while the adventurers came from its right and had free aim on the tower guards.


    By standing shoulder to shoulder the goblins could defend each other in their efforts to attack, in phalanx formation of sorts. Their spears gave them much needed reach, which they eagerly used to rain down continuous stabs on their enemy, before they could get a good bearing of their surroundings.


    "It''s a stronghold!" Shouted the archer, while nocking and firing an arrow at the tower. Abel jumped in front of George to catch the projectile on his new shield. The impact threw him to the floor, but both were unharmed.


    "Goblins usually infest abandoned villages." The armored man grunted, swinging his shield to deflect the various spears closing in on the trio. He held a mace in his other hand, but didn''t have the reach to hit his attackers with it without walking into their weapons.


    When he had his shield towards the tower, Biter, who had circled around the invaders and climbed on a perimeter log, released a bolt from the repaired crossbow.


    "Watch out!" The third human yelled as it flew towards the neck of the shield bearer.


    "Argh!" He screamed as the straight bolt pierced the muscles in his broad neck.


    "Timothy!" The archer expressed concern as he fired an arrow back at biter, who had ducked behind the log at the moment he had shot the bolt, as he had been taught. It dug itself into the wood, inches away from his hand.


    Timothy, as he was called, dropped his mace and sunk to his knees, but kept a vice grip on his shield, behind which he knelt.


    Digger dropped his spear and pulled himself over the shield to attack the man with a kitchen knife. The others were thrusting their weapons towards the other humans, to drive them away from their friend.


    Scratch was too focused on keeping the ranged fighter on the defensive to look over his shoulder, but Laugh helped Digger hack into the man in his moment of weakness and it sounded like they had successfully killed him.


    "F-fuck." The archer knocked an arrow and pointed his bow towards Second, who was directly in front of him. But he didn''t manage to fire a close range shot as the spear threw the bow out of his hands. "Nat. Do something!"


    "R-right." The woman put her hands together in a prayer-like gesture and chanted some sort of verse.


    "Wait. Everybody, stand ba-" Scratch couldn''t finish his sentence as a sudden flash of white light burst out from the female human, blinding them with a painful intensity.


    -


    "Who said that?" The archer''s voice sounded, just as a crunching sound came from behind the goblins.


    When Scratch regained his vision he realized he hadn''t retreated to make space between himself and the invaders, as would have been wise in their compromised position. "Damn it." He whispered, holding up the spear defensively and jumping backwards as a dagger from the archer''s belt slashed the air where his face had just been.


    He turned to run but almost immediately ran into the body of ''Timothy'', who was standing up straight with no noticeable wounds. Blood stained the head of his mace.


    In their single minded pursuit of the enemy the frontmost goblins, Scratch, Second and Kicker had separated from the safety of the phalanx. Now the goblins were now caught in between two halves of the human party.


    <hr>


    He was stunned. Like in a nightmare the body he was disposing of had simply stood up and walked away.


    The murderer sat down on the dusty attic floor. In front of him was an unrolled canvas that had previously contained an assassinated journalist. He put his free hand to his forehead, the other already had his personal weapon in it, resting heavily in his palm.


    He never thought of himself as an assassin, normally he would rely on others to do the killing for him. But he could no longer rely on the old organization. Paradoxically, rising in position had landed him with more dirty work.


    No. I''m becoming irrational. The body must have been moved by somebody else. But who? And what are they trying to do?


    He stood up, slowly. How far could they have gotten? Dragging around a whole body is a big undertaking. Unless it was a team of paramedics. He hadn''t noticed any commotion or evidence of large groups passing through the abandoned building. Perhaps that was intentional, perhaps they had intended lie in wait for the perpetrator to come back.


    He instinctively touched his face. The ski mask still obscured his facial features, the car outside couldn''t be traced back to him. He had to make a retreat, perhaps through the window rather than the door.


    -


    Slowly he sneaked down the stairs, both hands firmly gripping the weapon.


    No police unit was there to ambush and restrain him. If this was a set up, it was a very strange one.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Just as he wanted to climb out of the second floor window he finally noticed evidence of another presence beside himself in the house. Brief flashes of light would come from behind the door of one of the empty rooms. Faintly, he could hear a voice.


    "Benesant''s Light." A young woman''s voice cracked as another burst of light emitted.


    He pressed his back against the wall and cautiously glanced around the corner, the wool of the ski mask obscuring his vision ever so slightly.


    On an unsheeted mattress sat the woman he had killed, visibly breathing and alive, holding her arm out in amazement for a short white haired woman with her back towards him. He almost let out a gasp as he saw the wounds from their struggle closing, healing, and disappearing all together.


    This was the third time he had seen a miraculous occurrence interfering with his business.


    -


    "How are you doing this?" The reporter asked the miracle worker.


    "In the world I come from, this sort of thing is very common." The other answered. "What happened?"


    "I don''t know. I got ambushed in the street, somebody threw a bag over my head. I... was in the trunk of a moving car for a while. And in the end..." she touched her forehead. "They shot me."


    He could remember very well putting a bullet in her head, she had gotten to close to the trail of his bank fraud. He had needed her dead to make the problem go away, but with the matter being related to his betrayal of the previous don, he couldn''t have anybody else than himself and his closely trusted partner take care of it.


    "Where are we now?" The reporter asked the healer.


    "A long way away from the city, I had to commune with my goddess to find you. We should probably leave before the killers come back."


    "Can''t you use your magic on them?"


    "Honey, I had to bring you back from the dead. Most of my magic is spent for the time being."


    Only most of it, eh? He backed away. He didn''t feel comfortable challenging the anti-christ, or the anti-christs, as there seemed to be multiple. He swiftly but silently ran out of the building, back to the city. If he wanted to take on these freaks, he would need some backup.


    <hr>


    With renewed strength the shield bearer swung his mace at Second, hitting him squarely on the shoulder and throwing him to the ground.


    "Ah, fuck. Fuck." Scratch started cursing. He put his foot on the short bow that was laying on the ground, stopping the archer from getting it. The human was about to swing at him with his long knife again, but was thrown off balance by three different attacks, Kicker''s spear hit him in the side, another crossbow bolt from biter struck his back, and Scratch used the bottom of his spear to strike his ankle and make him fall to the ground.


    They couldn''t put down the enemy permanently, as Timothy ignored the pebbles flying at him and swung at them with his weapon they had to duck away.


    Scratch just enough clearness of mind to see Second was alive on the ground, clutching his shoulder. The man hadn''t paid any attention to him after the first strike, he was more concerned with saving his friend. Laugh on the other hand, had his skull bashed in to be unrecognizable. Digger lay on the ground next to him, breathing heavily and his arm bend in a way that shouldn''t be possible.


    As Timothy took in a position between his fallen friend and Biter the goblins from the tower came running. They had decided they wanted to be closer to the action, Abel charged forward with his shield in front of him, while Dumb and George lagged a few steps behind, readying their slings again.


    "Benesant''s Blessing!" The woman suddenly proclaimed, sparks of white light emanating from her hand and falling upon her fallen ally.


    "Argh!" He gargled, the bolt forcing itself out of his body. "I almost died!"


    "Kill the woman!" Yelled Second. "She''s keeping them alive!"


    Fat looked at Scratch, he was panting from exhaustion, but he nodded. He agreed to the plan.


    Two pebbles flew towards the woman from Dumb and George, one hit her in the chest. "Ow!" She clutched the spot in pain and immediately started to heal herself.


    "They''re targeting Natalie." The newly recovered Archer said as he stood up and grabbed his bow. "Tim. Hold back the horde, I''ll take care of the ones with the projectiles."


    "Right." The larger man grunted, turning his shield towards the phalanx and backing away to the healer.


    -


    Biter just shot another bolt at the woman named Natalie when he got one in return from the human. It went through his hand and out the other side, making him drop the crossbow and drop to one knee, screaming loudly.


    Almost in the same movement the men turned around to fire at the sling users, who had gotten a great deal closer. He aimed at those at the back of the group from over his friend''s shoulder. But George saw the path the arrow would take just in time and dodged out of the way.


    As the man clicked his tongue and knocked another arrow the spear wielding goblins fanned out to approach the shield bearer from different directions. He stood between them and his two allies, but it was becoming clear the shield was too heavy for him as he strained himself moving it around to block their attacks. However, the constant magic from the woman behind him kept the attacks that did hit from building up and slowing him down more.


    The status quo was broken again when Abel finally closed the distance between the tower and the invaders. Screaming loudly he didn''t slow down a bit once he had entered close range with the enemy, and rammed the edge of the shield against the defender''s thigh. His weight being far less than his enemy''s he only made him wince in pain and knock him back with his own shield. But Abel was undeterred, he deflected most of the impact of the bash and moved past the defender towards the archer in a fluid turning motion, inspired by Scratch''s unarmed combat lessons.


    When the archer grabbed the shield the goblin was trying to bash him with with one hand it stopped him from firing his suppressive arrows at the sling users, who made use of the opening by swinging around their last pebbles and hitting him in the throat and eye, saving Abel''s life and significantly hurting the enemy.


    "Archie!"


    The healer quickly transferred the flow of her light from the defender to the archer, but Timothy, concerned by the intrusion in their space and the wounding of his comrade turned around to swing his mace at the goblin, smacking the shield out of his hand. This break in formation was all the spear goblins needed.


    -


    Scratch and Fat thrusted their weapons in Tim''s unprotected neck. Rather than scream he grunted stoically, but when Benjamin, Linus, and Kicker added to his pain with more sharp stabs towards his padded back he keeled forward.


    In a sudden burst of energy Benjamin dashed forward, Kicker instinctively gave him a boost when he jumped on top of the enemy, spear in both hands, and ran over his back to jump over the archer.


    The healer jumped backwards when the goblin came flying towards her with a pointed spear, he landed where she had stood a fraction of a second ago, caught his fall with a roll, and exited lunging forward, breaching the space she had created. The spear pierced her stomach and stayed there for two heartbeats.


    Nobody moved after his sudden acrobacy, until the healer''s hand started to glow white.


    Before she could heal herself he pulled out his spear and slashed at her throat. She fell backwards, as good as dead.


    After breaking the morale and formation of the invaders to such a degree, the goblins where able to overwhelm the enemy. Repeated stabs into the party didn''t halt until some time after the men were dead and their bodies significantly disfigured.


    <hr>


    Briar looked intently at the battle.


    His spot in the tree gave him enough vision to oversee the entirety of the goblin camp, and hopefully some cover too.


    The goblins weren''t just armed, they were trained. Archibald''s party was completely wiped out by them.


    Normally goblins with a much greter number advantage struggled to even hurt much weaker parties. He knew of Archibald and his friends, he had studied the adventurers active in the region, and ''the Stallions'' was the only level E party participating in the culling. This was supposed to be an event for kids!


    Briar let himself down on the rope.


    "Look. Briar is coming back." Their Bard told their Paladin. Their names were Desmond and Alexander.


    "Und?" Their employer demanded. "Have zhey been EXTERMINATED yet?"


    Briar scratched the back of his head. "More like the exterminators have been exterminated. A competent party was hacked apart like I''ve never seen before in a safe area like this."


    "Sounds like a dungeong alright." Alexander grunted.


    "I see. Vhat sort of MONSTROSITY has vurmed itself out of zhe caverns, I vonder."


    Briar stared blankly at the mage. As a rogue he was commonly associated with thieves and assassins, and other such hidden professions. But this person, Gunther, walked around with his face covered in scarves, somehow eclipsing him in distrustful aura.


    "No, just goblins. Or they looked like goblins. But they had better equipment and technique."


    "A-ha. So it has yet to spawn anyzhing ferocious. Zhat is good. But ve must act quickly und take CONTROL over zhe dungeon."


    Briar sighed at the man''s exhuberance. "The goblins are away from their posts now, let''s not wait for night-time and attack now."


    "Very vell my friends. I vill follow you, how you say, like a shadow."


    <hr>


    Now that the fight was over all excitement drained from Benjamin''s face and his eyelids became heavy again.


    Scratch couldn''t help but wave his hand in front of the boy''s face. "Ben. Are you there? Did you get possessed?"


    "That was amazing!" Kicker still had enough energy to life Benjamin up, celebrating his heroic stunt, and was supported by Fat to keep him in the air. "Benjamin! You did it!"


    Benjamin seemed only tired and annoyed at the celebration taking place in the square.


    "Let''s collected our dead and wounded, before we act all happy." Scratch said.


    Second, who had a bruised shoulder came stumbling back, supporting Digger, whose entire arm was broken.


    From somewhere among the perimeter lumber Fyro and Linus had retrieved Biter.


    "Biter!" Kicker came running, now seeing his brother''s injury for the first time. The arrow was still inside the boy''s hand.


    "It''s not as bad as with Scream." Quiet explained. "If we can get Barbara to clean it, it''ll-"


    Before he could finish his sentence Dumb suddenly collapsed on the ground.


    Out of the back of his head shone a shiny metal object, a throwing knife.


    "Lydia?" Fat said, recognizing the object.


    "No." Scratch responded. "Everybody duck for cover!"


    Another of the objects struck Abel''s shield, he had had the good sense to turn it towards the direction Dumb''s demise had come from.


    -


    The goblins scattered around chaotically into different directions.


    Second pulled Digger into the blacksmithing hut.


    Kicker, Biter, Fyro and Linus collectively chose the water distillery.


    Abel ran up to George and both hid behind the shield in the open space between the square and the tower.


    Mac ran the entire breadth of the square, just to hide with Quiet and Fat who were at the kitchen.


    Scratch hid behind the water filter that neighboured the well.


    He panted, after no projectiles were bing fired off for a while he dared peek over his cover to try to detect the sniper.


    He saw the enemy stroll carelessly into their territory.


    They were already past the tower, whose battlements and makeshift ballista had aided them nothing since being constructed.


    There weren''t enough of us. Ran through his head. A lookout wasn''t enough. We needed a constant guard, more than we had the numbers to supply.


    -


    The enemy was a group of four people. One had his face covered in purple cloth, with only two bright eyes visible. The rest of his clothing was made up off similar purple material.


    Next to him stood a tall blonde individual covered from head to toe in shiney golden armor, holding what seemed to be a halberd.


    Behind the two of them walked a new individual wielding a musical instrument. A flute this time. Although he did have a buckler tied to his arm.


    In the back was a very lightly armored individual, a belt holding various throwing knives adorned his hip. He was the most likely killer of Dumb.


    Fyro had realized this too. When the group approached the square and slowed down to take in their surroundings he jumped out of cover, he had a dagger in reverse grip in his good hand and charged at the knife thrower. "Raah!"


    The man didn''t seem surprised at the attack at alll. He had most likely seen the creature already and effortly kicked him in the side of the head, knocking him unconscious.


    "Charge!" Somebody yelled, and all goblins rushed out of their cover to repel the invaders.


    Or, as Scratch realized just as he was doing it, towards certain death. Although he did not stop or flee. What an idiot am I. That I would die for a hole in the ground and some planks. Still...


    "Ve do not have time for zhis." The scarved man commented. "Desmond. If you please."


    The man blew two notes on his flute and all goblins collapsed on the floor.


    <hr>


    Healer Class


    The healer class is a support role, meaning it is not recommended for solo adventurers.


    Adventurers registrated as healers have access to medicinal herbs from the guild store, as well as light magic training herbal healing lessons.


    Reccognized priests from the church of Benesant that become adventurers can be instantly promoted to level E upon showing proof of ability.


    Only parties with healers may take healing requests.


    Healers are considered vital parts of any high level adventuring party, replaced only sometimes by paladins. All of history''s S rank parties had healers in them.

 The Dungeon Core

    "Boy, if I ever catch you again with your hand in-"


    The alchemist''s stern lecture was cut short by the little bell in front of the door, indicating customers had entered the store.


    "Hellooo! How can I help you?" He swirled around towards the shoppers without missing a beat.


    From behind him the assistant gave him a dirty look. Saccharine Sycophant. He thought to himself as he watched his master welcome the guests. He really had no respect for the man at all, his affected way of speaking, his servile attitude towards the people walking in and out his shop and the heavy authority he contrasted it with when bossing around his pupil, all stirred together into a syrupy stew of sad shame. He was thinking of other words that started with an ''s'' when his master demanded his attention.


    "Boy, go retrieve the skinbark in the back. We''ve got another case of goblins."


    "Hhm." He passive aggressively agreed to in an informal manner, and earned a kick to his shins below the counter from the old man in return.


    A case of goblins. He couldn''t tell if that was supposed to be a euphemism for goblin pregnancy, or just old man speak for it. Ludicrous locutions of a... of a low-life leper. Hhm. He wasn''t proud of that one.


    -


    The skinbark, of course, had been raided for the deal with the thief lady. He had agreed to create some toxins for her under the table, and she would have payed him in return. But she had decided to instead just up and disappear.


    He looked at the empty box, a few flakes of the material could be shook out into his hands. Not nearly enough for an alchemist to distill an acceptable medicine. The usual remedy for a goblin pregnancy involved poison, potent enough for putting an end to any normal pregnancy. Skinbark, being the cheapest poison there is, was his master''s favorite ingredient for this. Unfortunately for him, it was also a key ingredient for mana toxin, used for fighting knights and nobility.


    The young man considered how he would spin this to the boss. Perhaps he would believe that they had ran out a long time ago and he had simply forgot to buy more.


    If only that bloody bitch hadn''t ran out on me. Shows me for being a credulous clown.


    "Out of the way, boy, we''re going to need something stronger. She''s two days in." The owner of the shop pushed him aside to get at the ingredients. "Wormstock... wormstock..."


    The assistant sighed and took the material out of its place. By now he knew the cabinet better than the alchemist himself.


    "Ah, there it is." The old man responded as if he had spot it himself. "Go make yourself useful boy, help the healer girl to the operating room."


    Without much passion in his tread he walked back to entertain the guests. At least he had some more time before his embezzlement was exposed.


    -


    "Hang in there Angela, the old man knows what he''s doing." The patient''s friend told her.


    The pupil tried not to roll his eyes at the statement. "We have a room in the back. Please come with me."


    ''Angela'' followed him to the operating room.


    "Ever been here before?" He asked, as he layed out the tools for his master.


    "Uh, no. I''m a healer, you see, so I never needed to-"


    "Please take off your clothing and lay down on the table." He didn''t want to hear her brag about her adventuring.


    "It''ll be alright Angela." Her friend encouraged her.


    "Excuse me, miss," the assistant said, "could you please go back to the front of the store? This place is for staff and patients only."


    "R-right."


    "Theresa. I''ll meet you at the guild, talk to those nice kids for me!" The patient called after her, then she turned to the assistant. "It''s not a very lengthy procedure, is it?"


    "That depends." He said with wide eyes. "In how big chunks do you want the babies to come out?"


    His master smacked him in the back of the head for his tactlessness. "I''m sorry miss. He''s deficient, his parents begged me to take him in. Please lie back, we''ll get the monster spawn out of you and you won''t have to think about them anymore."


    Angela hesitantly laid back. He wondered if the alchemist was going to qualify his words of comfort with some sedatives, or if he was going to make her go trough the whole sordid process awake.


    The abortion process for such advanced fetuses wasn''t pretty. An extended and extensive mincing of meat.


    <hr>


    "Are these kids really that dangerous?"


    "What do you take me for? If I say they''re dangerous, they''re dangerous, ''aight?"


    "Okay, jeez. You''re so touchy today."


    He and his partner in crime were cooped up in a small closet filled with electrical wires.


    "You''ll have to forgive me if I come across a little excitable." He grunted, holding the headphone to his ear. "Things haven''t been going swimmingly lately."


    "Yeah? And whose fault is that?"


    "Ssh. They''re here."


    The microphones buzzed with static as they started picking up voices in the apartment, on the 37th floor, two floors down from where the criminals were listening to it.


    "Sanadora. Please stay close to us. Are we not a party? Let us move as one."


    "Then make haste, heroes. The evil plaguing this city is within these walls.


    His colleague raised an eyebrow. "What''s wrong with them?"


    He gestured for her not to speak over them.


    "Sanadora. The goddess never spoke of any-"


    "Do not interpret the will of the goddess for me, apostle. I know very well what she has and hasn''t spoken of. We will obey her will by striking at the root of- There!"


    They had to have spotted the bait, a drugged out member of another vigilante group. He had the strength to stand on his feet, but not the presence of mind to do or say anything.


    "That''s the cue for the rescue team." His colleague said as she flipped the switch.


    With the relevant elevator now ignoring calls from users on other floors it took the fast track to the 37th, perfect timing for another group of would-be crime fighters to confront the heroes with the subject.


    -


    "Who are you! Who do you work for?" Sanadora grilled the captive as they had hoped she''d do. The location was intentionally leaked as the destination address of a blackmailing item after all, in order to lure out one combative vigilante group.


    The other group was lured out with a kidnapping and ransom note.


    "You! Get away from him!" Was the call, immediately after the doors to the space opened.


    The mastermind clasped his hands together, he had successfully put them against each other.


    His colleague was less impressed. "You know we could have just booby trapped the elevator, right? ...What''s that noise?"


    "That noise." He said. "Is how they keep surviving everything I throw at them. Magical powers."


    From the other end of the microphone the sounds of powerful gusts of wind, roaring flames and sudden explosions could be heard.


    "No way."


    "Yes way. Luckily, as it turns out, they''ve been effective in keeping undercover not just from the public, but from each other as well."


    "Real. Life. Superheroes!"


    "Well... I wouldn''t call them-"


    They didn''t continue their discussion, as the building suddenly shook and everything was bathed in orange light.


    "What was that?" She said flabbergasted.


    "A bigger attack." He commented, putting the headphone against his ear again. "I hope it didn''t fry the equipment."


    But the voice from the other side could be heard clearly. "I didn''t recognize you in that body. My apologies."


    "In that body?" He whispered.


    "Sanadora. It is an honor to meet you once again."


    "Who do I speak to? I now know you are one of us, an old soul of the goddess, but have we met before, on another world?"


    "It is Techrius, ma''am. We did battle with the bloodspawn on the world of Marm. My body was bigger then."


    "Techrius, yes, I remember now. To think, my flames would have burned you hadn''t I prepared a safeguard against old souls."


    "What the hell are they talking about?" The male criminal exclaimed.


    "I don''t know. But I have the feeling this really backfired on you." The woman responded.


    Scratch


    "I mean, worlds, bodies, souls-"


    Scratch, wake up.


    "They''re some kind of body snatcher alien species."


    Scraaaatch. Your god commands you!


    <hr>


    "Hhm, what?" Scratch opened his eyes laying in a grassy field. In front of him lay a small viper, despite its serpentine facial structure it managed to have an angry expression on its face.


    You were dreaming.


    "Am I not dreaming now?"


    Yes, but it''s a dream I''m in. I need you to come halfway you know, I can''t just enter the deepest recesses of your mind.


    "Some god."


    Som- How many minds have you invaded, mister?! You know, I''m still very cross with you.


    "What? I- What." He sat up in the dream grass trying to get his bearing and remember what had happened before he had fallen asleep.


    We had a deal. You would protect my core from being found by humans. And now look. Humans. You didn''t even hand me your soul so I could properly punish you for this.


    "We had a deal?" Now he became angry in turn. "We did have a deal. The deal was that you would help our community. What have you done, huh? Made some monsters for yourself and dug yourself a bit deeper. And what are we left with? Protecting our home with some sticks and stolen weapons."


    That... I told you to get more goblins.


    "More goblins. Better goblins. Except as it turns out you can''t evolve us, so we''re operating on a flawed premise in the first place."


    You would have gotten bettr goblins if you''d mated with a more powerful woman. That''s the point of goblins. That''s... why we have them.


    "Well you haven''t been managing this very well."


    I... it... you failed to stop the humans-


    He crossed his arms "Don''t change the subject."


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    I''m not changing the subject. You''re changing the subject!


    "What happened to all that magic you''ve been storing up? This is your chance to make it right. If there''s ever a time to use it, it''s now."


    It''s not that easy... I need your help.


    <hr>


    Albin looked around the shoddy encampment. For goblins, he supposed, it was an impressive fort, for any intelligent species, not so much.


    The adventuring party he had hired went around smashing the mud huts and structures trying to find a hole in the ground. Even though the ruffians had probably never heard of him, he preferred not having his name linger in the region, so he went under a false name now, Gunther. As Gunther he had never heard of dark magic, or the secrets to controlling dungeon cores. He had simply caught wind of a dungeon having formed in the far east of the continent and set out to prevent it from growing. Purely out of altruistic concern for his fellow man. A few silver coins was enough for the adventurers not to examine the unlikely story to closely.


    "What about the brick building?" Briar, the rogue, said out loud. "It could be build over top it."


    Against the side of the cliff edge stood a crooked red brick wall, the little archway in the middle certainly made it seem like it led into deeper depths. A natural or unnatural cave system.


    "Vell. Go on zhen." Albin pressed. "Lead zhe way."


    "I''ll go ahead." Said the heavily armored paladin. His name was Alexander. "Desmond. Can you kill the subhumans before your song wears off? I don''t want any surprises from my back."


    "A blind child could kill a hundred before my song wears off." The bard bragged. "Goblins aren''t known for their resilient minds, you know."


    "Then, just... do it." The paladin sighed.


    "Yes, yes, und hurry up." Albin stated, as he followed the man inside. "Ve are here to slay a dungeon."


    His impatience was born from anticipation. If he managed to seize control of the shard, it would grant him immense power. It was more than he had dared hope for, only a few months earlier. With a wyrm shard, he would easily transcend his former master in prestige, and once and for all show all those who had put him down. He would build a library of his own, and in time, join the ranks of the dark lords. But he was getting ahead of himself. First, they would have to get past whatever monster the dungeon had prepared.


    -


    The first room was surprisingly cosey. It was a wooden interior lined with various hides and cloths, illuminated by the cracks in the wall and the orange flame of a tiny hearth.


    As Alexander poked at the various sheets with his halberd, to see if a creature was hiding underneath, Albin picked up a book that was lying open on the floor. It contained no magic or alchemical secrets, it was just a novel. He tossed it over his shoulder when his eye fell on a wooden hatch in the ground.


    "Zhere ve go." He said. "It leads farzher down."


    As the paladin opened the hatch, a flood of inky blackness shot out, enveloping them both.


    "Ah!" Alexander screamed in shock, thinking he was doomed.


    "No panic." Albin said calmly. "Zhis is a simple effect. Some elemental darkness to blind us, zhis is vhat a mage is for."


    He waved his hand and murmured the incantation to help him visualize the form his mana had to take. It succeeded, a ring of light, roughly two meter in radius surrounded the him, driving back the swirling blackness.


    "Wow." The paladin whistled. "What did you say your affinity was, Gunther? It''d be wind, right?"


    "Never mind zhat." Albin said quickly. "Let us press on. Ve must find zhe dungeon core."


    The concept of affinities propegated by the magic schools was needlessly restrictive. Spells created by the same deity often had some similarities, just by virtue of their effect, but the differences between some spells in the same school could be bigger than the difference between spells across schools. The dark mages, who had to hide their practices, where closer to the true nature of magic, eschewing all such categories and rules. Some even invented new magic. The abjuration of elements was such a spell supposedly, created by no god, but a human being. If he had been travelling with more knowledgable people he would have avoided using ''dark'' magic in their presence. But the level D adventurer didn''t seem like the type to see through his ruse.


    <hr>


    "Killin goblins." Briar complained. "What are we? Kids? Here I was thinking this was a serious quest."


    "Escort quests are serious." Desmond responded, putting the flute on his back and taking out a long knife. "We''re professionals. There''s nothing more professional than doing a boring job for the money."


    "Yeah, yeah." He had wanted to vent with his party member, but the man had to be so damn reasonable about it. "Where are they? All in a circle over there?"


    "Should be. I put them asleep trying to rush us, unless there were any too smart to attack us and hiding somewhere I''d say the whole tribe is in one place."


    The two walked leisurely towards the roughly dozen goblins fallen unconscious at the side of the hamlet. "Slice their throats and throw ''em on a heap." Briar instructed.


    "Maybe slice of the left ear. They''re worth more this month, aren''t they?" Desmond commented.


    He shrugged. If they were going to spend their time exterminating goblins, they might as well profit off it. He grabbed one of the creatures by the collar and put his knife to its face.


    "Stop!"


    Reacting immediately, Briar threw a knife at the origin of the sound. The throwing knife struck the forearm of a goblin holding his arms protectively in front of his face.


    "Des- They''re waking up!" Briar called out angrily to his party member. He returned his attention to the goblin in his grip, wanting to kill it before it, too, woke up.


    "Wait, stop, you don''t know what you''re doing!"


    The other goblin had spoken again. Briar looked from him to Desmond and back. Desmond, at least, seemed to have paused what he was doing to listen to the creature.


    "What are you talking about? What sort of creature are you?"


    The goblin stood straight up, it was wearing an eyepatch and a crude animal skin outfit, it talked quickly. "I am a tamed goblin. My master is Clyde Beatty, a monster tamer, we work in this mine for him." He pointed at the brick walled building.


    "Mine? You mean the dungeon."


    The goblin hurriedly shook his head, eyeing the large knife Briar was holding next to his tribe member. "There is no dungeon. All we''re guarding here is gold."


    "Gold?"


    "Why should we believe you?"


    The goblin cautiously came closer, his hands still raised where they could see them. "The man who hired you. What did he say his name was? Gunther? That''s a lie. How would he know about a dungeon so far away from his home country, and not tell anybody else, but come handle it personally? It''s a cover story for stealing Beatty''s riches, without having to share them with you."


    "Do you buy it?" Briar asked Desmond.


    "Not really... But it makes more sense than the other story. You, why are you telling us this?"


    The goblin put his hands together. "Just, please stop killing us. I will show you where we hid the money, but please, stop killing my brothers."


    Briar rubbed his chin with the handle of the knife. "If you''re lying to us, you don''t die a quick death, understood?"


    "Understood."


    "Then take us to the treasure."


    <hr>


    As they entered the tunnel Albin could clearly feel a more directed flow of magic. This was certainly the beginnings of a proper dungeon, somebody had build it in order to fuel the shard. Either a rival sorcerer, or the champion of some evil god. He readied himself and hid behind the adventurer, whoever currently controlled it had to have some safeguards against it being conquered in place, traps, a strong monster at the end, that sort of thing. Albin''s mind scanned all the creatures that could exhude elemental darkness, most he dismissed as too powerful, demons that would be too hard to control or would have made their presence felt much clearer.


    They had to lower their heads and crouch through a very narrow stairwell. "I can''t see anything." The Paladin complained. The abjuration circle was projected from Albin''s body, who was behind him, and its edge didn''t stop very far in front of him, so he was constantly face to face with a wall of blackness.


    "Stop you complaining. Zhis is vhat you are paid to do, is it not? Now bring me closer to zhe core, it is straight ahead."


    Not being able to see very far ahead the two inched forward step for step. Their path took them past multiple doors and through a corridor of sand, ready at any point for a monster to jump out at them.


    -


    Eventually Alexander stepped on some sort of crude fence, crushing it with his weight, and entering a patch of dry straw and bird droppings.


    "Vhat? Chickens?" Albin was nonplussed, looking at the large poultry with hawk-like eye covering over its eye. "Vhere is the dungeon guardian?"


    "Are we at the end?" Asked the paladin, clearly having becoming nervous from the opressivly dark atmosphere.


    "Vhe must be." Albin stepped around him, driving back the darkness that obscured the wyrm shard. A crystalline entity lodged in the wall, with three long spines spiralling outward. "Zhere it is."


    "Cleanse it, quickly, so we can leave."


    Albin invisibly sneered at the adventurer. ''Cleansing'', what a nice sounding word for destroying intricate and meticilously crafted spell weaves. When an adventurer ''cleansed'' a dungeon core they would remove the echantments of its master, and render it inert. What he wanted to do was more complicated than that, he wanted to replace the current master of the shard, not a simple wiping of the board, but a careful rearranging of the pieces. It would take a bit longer than simply ''cleansing'' it with a simple spell. "Cover me." He told the paladin as he put his hands on the core. "Vhatever happens, make sure zhat I am not interrupted."


    <hr>


    Scratch had convinced the two adventurers to hold off on killing them for a few more minutes at least.


    It''s been years since I had to grovel in front of anybody. Actually, no, I had to grovel in front of that goddess person when I died. It''s undignified. He didn''t like compromising his dignity, but he didn''t have much choice. Cyclophan had been able to wake him up, and inform him of all the lies the humans had told each other, but hadn''t been much more help than that. When it came down to it, he had no power of any kind to rely on.


    When descending into the underground the knife thrower had his hand firmly on Scratch''s shoulder, his grip was painful and held the implicit threat of murder.


    "Ahead just a little." Scratch said as the humans bowed their heads fitting into the tunnel. He planned on telling them the truth about the treasure, he and the evil god had come to the conclusion together that material wealth had the highest chance of putting the humans at odds with each other.


    Ahead of him he could see Cyclophan''s tendrils of darkness retreat to cover only the front party, for a being without the ability to see in the dark it had to look simply like a darker area in an already dark cavern.


    "Candlelight." The musician behind them uttered, casting some flickering light on the path before them.


    "Keep walking, goblin." The knife thrower commanded.


    -


    Before they reached the clay wall that hid the bandit''s coins they passed Barbara''s cell, from which muffled shouting could be heard.


    "Help! Help me!" Along with stomping on the door. She had realized the goblins had been defeated and there were adventurers outside her door.


    "A prisoner!" The musician gasped.


    Scratch cursed under his breath.


    A hand wrung around his throat, choking him. "Just mineworkers, are you!?"


    "A thief." He gargled through the vice grip. "A member of the thieves'' guild, trying to steal from us."


    "I''m opening this up." Said the musician, grabbing the large bolt.


    "If you want to split it amongst one more-" Scratch tried, but was quickly silenced.


    "You shut up." The knife thrower hissed, as the cell was opened up.


    Barbara stormed out, into the arms of the flute player. "Thank Rhada, I thought I''d never-" She froze up as she saw Scratch still alive. "Kill him. Kill them." She said panickingly.


    "Hey, hey wait." Scratch protested as his capturer seemed eager to oblige. "Keep your eyes on the prize, she just wants the treasure for herself."


    "Treasure? There''s no treasure." Barbara responded with genuine confusion. Now the decision to keep it a secret from her was working against him.


    "This creature poses no risk to us." The flute player said. "We might as well see it." He then turned to the prisoner. "I''m sorry, what''s your name?"


    "Barbara."


    "Barbara, could you stick with us? We''ll bring you back home after we see if there''s a treasure for ourselves."


    She nodded.


    Scratch grumbled as he was told to keep walking.


    <hr>


    As Gunther did his cleansing spell, Alexander stood guard. It was hard not feeling a little nervous when he could see so little of what was in front of him.


    All he could see was the intense blackness and the straw directly in front of him. Occasionally, a chicken or the wing of a goose wandered within the circle and was briefly visible, but the creatures seemed eerily comfortable in the dark.


    His train of thought was shaken up when he suddenly heard somebody shouting something in the tunnel, the acoustics of the environment warped the sound and he couldn''t make out what was being said by what sort of creature, but it was speech. He readied his halberd.


    What came speeding at him dove to the side as soon as it entered the circle of light, dodging a quick stab of his halberd. Right afterward came a bloodied and used throwing knife just missing his thigh.


    "Kill them!" Sounded the unmistakable shrill voice of a goblin towards the hidden attackers.


    "An ambush!" Alexander yelled, infusing his halberd with magic in order to do form a line of defense protecting the mage.


    Gunther, however, preferred a more aggressive approach. He had turned away from the core behind him and yelled out an incantation of fire magic.


    A powerful spout of fire burst from his hands, next to Alexander''s side, into the darkness. Then the light disappeared.


    <hr>


    When Scratch led the invaders further into the cave, he grew increasingly despondant.


    He had entered with half a plan, and ended up with perhaps a quarter. After getting choked his fear response finally kicked in and he realized he should have run. Set up shop somewhere further away, where there were no adventurers, no evil gods.


    When they reached the clay wall he kept walking, what was the point in giving them the money? They would just kill him afterwards anyhow, then return to the surface and wait for their friend to come back from taking over the shard.


    No, the money was no longer part of the plan. The only two elements that could still work in their favor were derived from Cyclophan''s power. The first was the tendrils of darkness that still kept the two halves of the party apart and isolated, the second, he considered as they approached the end of the tunnel, was the benefit granted to him by being the champion of the god of trickery, sleight of hand.


    He moved the throwing knife that had killed dumb from his sleeve to his hand, making it appear in his palm just as he held his hand next to his head, and used it to stab at the hand gripping his shoulder.


    "Argh!" The damage was minimal, but it had hurt enough for the man to loosen his grip and Scratch to escape, immediately he dropped the knife and sprinted into the darkness.


    The ward against the darkness was closer than he had estimated and he almost walked right into the halberd of the the third adventurer, only dodging it into the darkness by a hair''s breath.


    "Kill them!" He shouted. In a distant attempt to get the two groups to think the other was under their command. In the absolute darkness he felt the body of Tiresias the cockatrice and jumped on it to tear off the blindfold.


    He dragged on the bird to pull it into the circle of light and threw it into the face of the magic user, who was shooting some sort of fire from his hand.


    When the man turned to stone the protective circle disappeared and darkness flooded the two.


    Almost immediately he could hear an aggravated "ugh" from the man again. He had cultivated his body and could not be petrified by such a weak creature for long, but the magic had been interrupted at least.


    Then he crawled into a corner, hidden by Cyclophan''s darkness.


    <hr>


    As Barbara was followed the adventurers downward, she was tense. She wondered how many goblins had been killed, and quickly banished the thought. This what she had wanted all along. That she had invested effort into teaching Mac how to make candles or Linus how to read didn''t mean she had to care when they died, she had done those things to occupy herself while she was trapped, she had a real life outside this cave.


    The cave seemed unfamiliar to her after being locked in. Darker, somehow. Was there really a treasure? What else had she no idea off?


    When approaching the end of the tunnel Scratch suddenly did something to the Rogue''s hand and ran off. He grabbed the knife that was falling trough the air and threw it after him into the darkness in one movement.


    "Kill them!" Scratch yelled, he sounded scared, but at his command a wide fan of flame burst out of the darkness.


    The two adventurers shielded her with their body, the bard blowing a discordant note on his flute to supress their fatigue and the rogue storming forwards.


    From the back of the cave the darkness came rushing outwards, enveloping all of them and leaving them blind.


    Barbara dove to the ground and covered her head. She could hear the clang of metal upon metal, drowned out by the honking of the geese and the occasional sudden flash of light piercing the thick darkness.


    Then, suddenly, the darkness retracted.


    Human bodies littered the floor. The only seeming survivor what looked like a paladin was kneeling over the rogue, his own face heavily bleeding from the fight.


    "What!? Briar!" He exclaimed. "What have I done? B-Benesant''s bl-"


    "No." Scratch said, coming up from behind him and swinging the bard''s long knife as if it was a sword.


    "Watch out!" Barbara yelled, her voice rising to a pitch it hadn''t in years.


    The knife struck true, hitting the man''s neck underneath his helmet, but didn''t kill.


    "You-!" He grabbed the goblin by the arm and threw him to the ground, the knife stuck to the side of his neck. "Your vile magic."


    Scratch struggled as the paladin''s hands tightened around his neck. Then he gave an evil smile, lifted up his lower body and kicked the back of the knife with both feet, wedging the edge against his throat and slicing it open. Already gravely hurt the man lost his balance due to the pain.


    Climbed on top of him and grabbed the knife by the handle, slicing his throat and finally killing him.


    -


    Only when the fight was over did Barbara realize how passive she had been.


    She saw Scratch look at her. He looked beaten up, bruised, exhausted, weaker than ever.


    He pointed up the tunnel towards where her cell was. "Go back inside."


    "Y-yes." She obeyed.


    Today, she had seen Scratch''s magic.


    <hr>


    Mage Class


    The mage class is a versatile role, depending on the school of magic the mage has affinity to it can have many different applications.


    Reddington''s fire mages are known as damage dealers, dependable as mid-range crowd control to compliment the more focused attention of the kingdom''s duelists.


    Blurich''s wind mages specialize in mobility, greatly improving the effectiveness of their vanguards by supporting their movement.


    Similarly, Grenice''s water mages are known for utility magic and the Yellow Field''s earth mages for their ability to defend.


    Adventurers registered as mages have access to magic training at the guild hall.


    Graduates from a magic academy that become adventurers can be instantly promoted to level E upon showing proof of ability.


    It is relatively common for history''s legendary parties to feature a mage prominently among them. The means to travel to hell or other places in order to defeat a world threatening enemy is often a spell, in which case would-be world saviors benefit massively from having a member amongst them who can cast complicated magic themselves.

 Bouncing Back

    "Noooo!" Mac''s scream of grief was long and drawn out.


    He was kneeling over Dumb''s body, unable to awaken him.


    Scratch could see Kicker and Biter get annoyed at the youngling''s emotional reaction. They had known Dumb for much longer than he had, there was a certain status as mourner associated with that. It seemed presumptuous of the boy to react so much more to the loss than them, as if he cared more.


    Most of the family stood around awkwardly. They had just been woken up from the magic induced sleep, the permanent loss hadn''t set in yet.


    "Guys. GUYS" Scratch clapped his hands to get their attention. "We''ve lost Digger, Laugh, and Dumb."


    "I''m- I''m still alive." Digger stated, he was standing at the back, holding his broken arm.


    He went on without blinking. "Regardless, our manpower has been reduced, to now wallow in grief is suicide. I order you to regain your composure."


    He could see most of them repeat his meditation exercise, closing their eyes and focusing on their breathing.


    Although it seemed like Benjamin was falling asleep on his feet, Second was making no effort and instead clutched his dislocated shoulder in pain, and Mac was too heavily affected, sobbing too hard to be able to even meditate.


    He walked up to the young goblin and grabbed his face with both hands. "What are you doing, huh? Do you want us to feel sorry for you?"


    "Nuh No-o-o" The boy''s speech was affected by his hyperventilating.


    Scratch kneaded his cheeks and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears. "We don''t have the luxury of this weakness, okay? You''re a danger to yourself and others when you''re like this. Be strong."


    Before Scratch could continue his arms were pushed away by Second. "Let him be. Scratch."


    Scratch brought his face close to that of his younger brother. "Are you challenging me? Are you telling me what to do now? Do you know what I just-"


    "Stop!" Fat yelled. "Stop! We don''t need this. Not now."


    Abruptly Scratch entered a warm demeanor again, turning away from Second. "Fat is right. We need to stay vigilant. Kicker and Linus, you stand guard. Fat and Second, you''re in charge of the bodies, there are more downstairs. Fyro can show Biter how to treat his hand. Mac, go wash your face. I''m going to bed."


    <hr>


    Cyclophan immediately took the opportunity of Scratch''s dream to talk to him.


    They were all liars. Not a single day went by without one of them telling a lie. I could see them coming from miles away!


    "And yet..."


    And yet you were blind and deaf to my calls. That''s my champion, a creature so weak, so absolutely devoid of magic, it can''t even hear the god it''s championing.


    Scratch sighed. The scenery of the dream was the riverside next to which the orcs had been slain. Cyclophan, in viper form, crawled around a pile of different looking bones.


    "Well, I''ll ease your mind. Your champion is leaving."


    What? Leaving? The snake popped out of a skull in confusion.


    "From the very beginning, you have been deceiving me. First you string me along with this evolution business, then you conceal the fact the location of your shard is common knowledge."


    W-wait. You can''t leave. Where would you go? You need me.


    "For what? Protection against wandering wolves? I''d rather have wolves than superhumans."


    No. The shard is still a secret. That guy, Albin, he kept it a secret because he wanted to control the dungeon. I don''t know how he found out, maybe he invented a spell-


    "I''m done gambling on this, Cyclophan. I should have realized sooner that that was what I was doing, now half my goons have gotten whacked."


    You, you can''t leave me. I''m your god! I... I have some more magic in me, I can use it to help you.


    "... Like what?


    <hr>


    Gubok rubbed his painful knee.


    His situation had pivoted so abruptly and so completely he still hadn''t adjusted.


    After the breeding women had escaped, the well of humanoids was running dry. Every day he lost more servants to roving bands of the larger subspecies.


    The greenskins didn''t seem to produce females, so they couldn''t grow their population without prisoners. An oversight in their creation. Orcs, at least, required a species weaker than themselves to breed, but these things needed to imprison those stronger than themselves.


    He looked around the nest, the population had almost halved since then. He now had to take an active role in defending the territory, lest they be overrun. Even the daily requirements, like gathering food or repairing maintaining their shelter the wretched creatures couldn''t do on their own. In orc society, men of all professions are also warriors, but the strongest warriors have no other professions. It was humiliating doing work for such weak creatures. Was this his punishment for not returning to Kubar when he could?


    -


    His train of thought was interrupted by one of the creature yelling out an alarm.


    With a dissatisfied grunt he grabbed Garak''s old equipment and stood up. He would have to go defend his cattle again.


    The commotion came not from the larger humanoids attacking the camp this time. Instead, a different tribe of the green skinned creatures had tried to snuck in and swipe the food.


    The beings didn''t possess the intelligence to know when they were outmatched, and they had to be starving. The constant stream of attackers made hunting and gathering a whole lot more dangerous, and any reserves were lost when they had to flee their home.


    The invaders were holding clubs and large rocks, but were wearing round helmets of orcen make, and their leader wielded a long dagger made of the same black steel. These were inheritors of Kubar and Grat''s tribe taming project, they had armed humanoids to earn their loyalty and exterminate others, creating groups like this one. The tribe Gubok had taken over had been armed a lot better though, and were already encircling the desperate creatures when he arrived at the scene.


    Gubok was about to let the events take their natural course, but he then realized he had been complaining about having less of the creatures around and now more had arrived.


    If they really were servants of the orcs, perhaps they had been taught to speak.


    Gubok stepped over one of his own servants, and struck the enemy leader with his hammer to the side of the helmet, killing it instantly.


    "Bow to me!" He yelled at the others, keeping in mind their likely limited vocabulary.


    They understood, and they complied.


    A grin appeared on his snout. This could work.


    <hr>


    After counting the casualties it was understood that twelve-and-a-half goblins were still alive.


    Dumb, Laugh, and Scream had all died, and Digger was out of commission after breaking his forearm. They had tried to reset the bone, but it was clear the fracture wouldn''t simply heal, as the flesh around it became swollen and discolored.


    So, as was the goblin lifestyle, their lost numbers needed to be replenished.


    This time Scratch did take the lead, although he was opposed to all candidates crowding around in the same room. Just to appease him the goblins that were not Barbara''s children waited their turn to take her at different hours of the day, while the others resumed their duties.


    -


    Scratch went first, in the morning.


    The woman was silent and complacent, a bit more than would be expected from the limited training. He still didn''t trust her, but he knew she wouldn''t try anything radical in her current situation.


    She opened her legs to him, and he would need to do very little, just surrender himself to the primal urges his little body shot up into his brain with its hormones.


    Still, he was surprised at how little stamina he had. A few thrusts was enough and the process was complete. A goblin didn''t need any more, he supposed.


    -


    Not too long after, Quiet got his chance. Which he took with uncharacteristically loud fervor.


    Only Scratch was disturbed by the grunts.


    Second had an uneventful session too.


    In early noon it was supposed to be Biter''s turn, but their schedule was interrupted by more human invaders.


    -


    A quartet of humans crossed the perimeter from the front. All the minimal armor, maximal armaments types. One of them was a woman.


    The guards spotted them immediately and were able to react appropriately.


    A loud scream sounded to alert the others, and the ballista had them in its sight from the start.


    It was the ideal scenario for their defenses. Which was a stroke of fortune, they still hadn''t altered their strategy after losing so many the day before.


    One human deflected an arrow from the tower ballista, only to be hit be a crossbow bolt to the stomach immediately. Two other fired back, but their projectiles were rebuffed by the battlements.


    So compromised were they by the tower''s strong suppression, that they weren''t able to avoid being surrounded by the spear wielders on the ground.


    -


    "Catch the woman alive!" Scratch called over the screaming and grunting. "We can use her!"


    It was a lot harder catching a person alive without being hurt, that it was killing them.


    The woman knew what was waiting for her, and swung at the goblins surrounding her with her large metal gauntlets ferociously, even when her team mates were dead, breaking two spearheads in the process.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    In the end they compromised by slicing at her hands and feet, the extremities, to hurt her without killing her.


    -


    After she was disarmed by this treatment, three goblins jumped on her to keep her down.


    Scratch picked up a saber from a fallen human off the ground. It was too big for him to carry very far, so he planted in the ground and leaned against it. "What''s your name?"


    "Nggg, raah!" She protested against the capture.


    "Can''t she talk?" Fat asked.


    "She probably can, but she won''t. Fat, you and Mac strip her and put her with the other. The rest stay here, there must always be a lookout."


    Biter made himself heard. "Uh, I was-"


    "Yeah, well... make it short."


    <hr>


    Stiff with adrenaline Scratch paced up and down the perimeter some more, making sure there was currently a shift keeping watch, then he went back to the cave.


    The village was almost completely destroyed by the dark sorcerer and his minions. The only things still standing were the well and the fireplace. If they wanted drinkable water they had to boil it in a kettle.


    Biter was just outside, washing himself next to the well.


    "You done?" Scratch remarked in passing.


    "We had to tie up the new one." Biter said. "She''s a wild animal."


    "We''ll get her to calm down."


    -


    Inside, Fyro an Mac were done preparing the ingredients for their new project, they had laid them out on the wooden floorboards.


    A few feathers from the cockatrice had been ground up in a bowl, the tongue of a human was presented on a small plate, and large reserves of water and salt stood to the side.


    "He''s here." Said Mac as he saw Scratch enter the foyer.


    "What''s all this for?" Asked Fyro, gesturing towards the display with his unhurt hand.


    "A magic potion." Scratch stated. "Let''s start at the beginning, put up a kettle, we''re boiling the water."


    <hr>


    I can take you away from this world. Read the words on the computer screen. I can make you an old soul, like us.


    He slurped the cheap microwaved Japanese pasta while over thinking his next move. He had been catfishing the enemy for weeks now, pretending to be an innocent soul, helping their investigation in token ways. It still wasn''t his expertise, but at least is was safer than going out and personally destroying evidence.


    If he plans on meeting up, I may need a stand-in. Just as they destroyed my source of cheap labour. Just the week before the ringleaders of his human trafficking operation had been found burned to death at their own dockyard. It was better than seeing them arrested and interrogated, but he still lost a major business.


    He put down the food and started typing. What does that mean?


    The response was quick. It''s a potion. An elixer. I drank it myself on the world Zynthas, and I became a champion of the goddess. Our spells do not hurt old souls, if you''re captured, we can destroy your captors without hurting you.


    Old souls... he had heard that term before. He was eager to obtain protection against the enemy''s primary weapon, but he remembered to stay in character. I''m afraid This is all so strange.


    I want to protect you, the potion is the way to do that.


    Bingo. What do you need?


    I don''t need much. Just some purified water and some ingredients from powerful lifeforms, but me and my fellow warriors can provide those.


    Provoid. Thank you for everything.


    You''re welcome.


    It was a desperate move, but these were desperate times. Once the individual had created this so-called magic potion, he would have to find a way to take it for himself. Hopefully he could corner and isolate him somewhere, or lure him into a trap.


    <hr>


    Cyclophan had promised to use the dungeon''s directed magic flow to help the goblins fight off invaders. However, as with everything he did, before it could work the goblins had to make the necessary preparations.


    After the water was boiled and purified, they poured some of it into a clay vase, normally used for water carrying. They added salt to increase the density of the liquid, it had to be at a point where the human tongue could be suspended within the liquid. When they went too far and the tongue rose to the top when submerged they knew they''d gone too far and more water had to be added to dilute the solution.


    Once they were done they chopped up and crushed the tongue into a paste, mixed it with the feather powder, and poured out most of the salt water until the vase contained a volume equal to the tongue paste. Then all contents were mixed in the face and it was sealed off tightly with a piece of cloth.


    "What does all this do?" Fyro would ask about the different steps in the recipe.


    "I''ll be honest." Scratch would respond. "I haven''t the foggiest."


    -


    The last step of the process was exposing the mixture to Cyclophan''s magic.


    Fyro and Mac followed Scratch as he carried the thing downstairs, to the crystal at the far end of the cave.


    They stepped over the chicken coop. The core had been digging into the stone, growing the tunnel. Soon they would need to move the birds'' habitat back or install a back fence.


    "Here''s your disgusting brew." Scratch said, putting the vase against the crystal. "The rest is up to you."


    "What..." Mac asked.


    "Nothing. It''s just... this shard thing. It''s what''s been protecting us."


    -


    While they were waiting for Cyclophan''s magic to create their secret weapon, Scratch agreed to tell them what happened while they were unconscious.


    The goblins with the free time to listen to his anecdote were Fyro, Mac, and Biter, later joined by Kicker when he came by for his turn with the captured woman.


    "We stood no chance in combat." He explained while leaning back. "Our only plan was to find some way to make the enemies fight each other for us. Not that we had to do much means for that either, perhaps a treasure for them to fight over, and the darkness of course."


    "Why the darkness?" Biter wanted to know.


    "Why indeed? If you don''t know what''s next to you, it''s safer to assume it''s an enemy. Some paranoia and uncertainty is a main ingredient in the recipe for turning people against each other. In that way it''s a microcosm of our reality over all, I suppose. You never know what other people are thinking, that creates tension, an incentive to ''get them'' before they ''get you''."


    "Hhmm." Fyro pondered, scratching at his wound. "A microcosm is... the same-


    "-but smaller yes."


    "Then you can do it big too."


    "What? Sow discord? Absolutely, it''s a common tactic for those that want to sabotage a system or group."


    "Can''t we do it with all adventurers then?"


    "No. Well... maybe."


    <hr>


    Barbara sat in her room, staring at the door.


    She felt like a child being disciplined, being confined to the cell like this.


    Rationally, she understood that the goblins were mistreating her and keeping her against her will. But emotionally, Scratch managed to make her feel like she had acted ungratefully.


    At least she wasn''t like that anymore, like the woman currently tied up by all extremities and attached to the wall.


    "Hhhhmpf. Hhhmpf!" She proclaimed through her cloth gag.


    Barbara slowly turned her head to look at her. The room was currently illuminated by the dim light of a home-made candle, and both could see each other''s faces.


    "I''m not allowed to take off your gag." Barbara whispered. "But I will, if you don''t scream."


    Without waiting for some form of confirmation, she untied the material.


    "Help! We''re captured! Help!"


    "No!" She quickly balled up material and pushed it back in. It wasn''t so much that she''d be punished for this particular piece of conduct, but there were kids sleeping in the room directly next to them. They had been staying awake for long periods of time to keep watch and only got a limited amount of sleep each day.


    "There''s nobody around for miles, I''ve checked. So keep your voice down. Now... what''s your name?" She took out the gag again.


    "Ngg. Ugh. My name is Brittany, I''m almost a level E adventurer. This can''t be the end of my story, not goblins. No way."


    "It doesn''t have to be." She glanced at the door. "Listen, the leader of these goblins is some sort of magical being. I had smuggled along a vial of mana toxin when I came here, but has confiscated it. If we can get our hands on that vial, I think together we-"


    *Bang*


    The door shot open.


    "They''re talking." Said Kicker the goblin. "I knew they''d be talking."


    "We''ll separate them, as Scratch said." Responded his tribesman, the injured Digger. "I''ll leave you alone with her."


    He then dragged Brittany along by her bindings.


    She screamed loudly and pulled on the bindings, until he had to threaten her with a knife.


    -


    Two more goblins used Barbara''s body to breed that day.


    She had gotten used to it again, her short vacation from goblin slavery was over now and she entered her disassociated routine again.


    Without Milly and the others this time. But who knows, perhaps after they had ''domesticated'' Brittany to their satisfaction they''d let them room together again.


    <hr>


    The next morning the goblins opened up the vase.


    Over night the liquid had expanded in volume and undergone some remarkable changes in consistency, becoming more viscous and cream-like.


    "Digger, you''ll be our guinea pig." Scratch said, as he and Abel lifted the thing up to the foyer.


    Digger looked up from his drawing.


    The injured goblins were kept inside. Each had been handed a piece of charcoal and a ripped out page from a book with a blank side, and they were busy sketching the likeliness of the dead adventurers with the severed heads standing model.


    -


    "Hold out your arm." Scratch ordered, as the goblin dutifully trotted up to him.


    Digger painfully lifted up his broken arm, it was discolored and misshapen, it looked painful.


    The rest of the residents stopped doing what they were doing, just to observe.


    Using a spoon scratch took a scoop of the magical concoction and unceremoniously chucked it against the painful seeming area.


    As soon as the liquid came into contact with the skin, it attached itself to it and changed colour to match it.


    "Uhm. How do you feel?" Scratch asked, looking at the the layer of extra skin that was wrapped around Digger''s forearm like a piece of cloth.


    "It doesn''t hurt anymore." Was all digger could say.


    A magic to remove the wounds of your warriors. Cyclophan had promised. He had gone to great lengths to avoid calling it healing magic. And the way the material attached to the skin like that didn''t make it seem like it had reset the bone or anything.


    "Hhm." Scratch thought about it for a moment, then he shrugged. "Fuck it. Everybody form a line."


    <hr>


    The potion allowed them to form a stronger force over the following day.


    Which was good, since they were attacked by humans on two separate occasions.


    First in the afternoon, by a party of six, two of which had healing abilities.


    More battlements on the tower and better use of shields by the goblins allowed them to quickly kill the healers with minimal injury, but two of the remaining humans fled.


    This worried Scratch, since he thought the location of their base would quickly spread, and that that would attract more enemies.


    Kicker remarked that Dumb would have said it could deter them too.


    The second attack was just before sunset, when they were caught be surprise by an adventurer sneaking through the long shadows. Eventually he was killed by Benjamin''s spear, but not before he had demonstrated for them that flesh healed by the potion no longer could bleed.


    A disturbing fact, but no cause for alarm. In fact, this was useful, the chance of bleeding out was diminished.


    -


    Once the sun set all drawing were complete, and the boys spread out into the forest to enact Scratch''s plan.


    "It''s also Fyro''s plan, in a way." Scratch said.


    "I''m a tactical mastermind." Fyro concluded.


    "''In a way'' means not at all." Was Linus reaction.


    The three were one of the teams set out to set up a single notice board. Fyro was carrying the planks, Linus the paper.


    "What was the point of my plan again?" Fyro asked in an embarrassed tone.


    "We''re sowing the seeds of discord and distrust." Scratch answered, looking around. Then he pointed at a small hill. "That''s a good place, nice and visible."


    They quickly went to work, attaching the planks together into a reasonably sturdy board and digging a hole to plant the post in.


    "But.. see... how?" He wanted to know, while they were working.


    "Well, it''s a long shot, I admit." Scratch said as he pinned the drawings to the board with knives. "But we don''t need them to believe it, only to suspect others of believing it."


    Each of the papers was a wanted poster, modeled after the adventurer requests shown in the children''s book from the farm.


    -


    "EXTERMINATION REQUEST" stood above the portraits of the four powerful adventurers. "REWARD: 2 GOLD"


    Scratch had tried to estimate what would be a reasonable reward for a dangerous assassination mission, but with only one trading partner he couldn''t make a proper estimation. He decided to go for a high estimate.


    Next to these stood some fake instructions, burned into the wood. "Any participants in the culling have a bounty on their heads by Beatty. Turn in the heads of goblin slayers at the following location for monetary compensation: "


    The simplified map of the area showed the location of the bandit camp, in the hope that any investigative sleuths would come across a very real enemy encampement and not immediately disprove the ruse.


    -


    "If the humans think there are human hunters, they might try to attack first when they see other humans." Linus explained to Fyro somewhat condescendingly.


    "And even if they are certain the notice is fake, they might be afraid others are not. Necessitating them to strike first before the others do. And so on."


    Fyro seemed unconvinced.


    "It''s a longshot, I admit. But it''s something. Let''s go home."


    <hr>


    The messenger felt a certain apprehension approaching the high ivory spire.


    It used its momentum to swoop upwards, and flapped its wings a few more times to come up to the highest window, it tapped its beak on the glass to be let in.


    "A message, master, from the east." Spoke the shrill voice of a servant, as he let the bird in.


    The messenger looked on in fear as the back of the master rose up from the news. He was even bigger in person. The legendary monster that ruled these lands, the ravenous lich. He could only hope the message he''d brought with him was good news, or the master of darkness might take out his displeasure on him.


    The servant untied the parchment from the messenger''s claw, read it, and summarized the contents. "It seems like Albin has died, sir. Trying to claim a dungeon."


    "Good." The lich''s voice was far deeper than any natural creature could make, it sounded like the rumbling of distant thunder. "Yanis wouldn''t have forgiven me, had the ingrate been able rise to power due to me."


    "So that''s those ends tied up?" The servant asked, rather forwardly.


    "Not yet. The stolen knowledge contained the location of an unclaimed core, not a dungeon."


    "I see. One to watch then, I suppose."


    "One to watch indeed."


    The messenger was released without coming to harm.


    <hr>


    Martial Class


    The martial artist is a close combat role, in many ways similar to the duelist. But where the duelist hones singular excellence with a specific weapon, the martial artist makes their own body a weapon.


    Adventurers registered as martial artists have access to martial equipment from the guild store and personal combat training.


    While not as capable of dealing direct damage as a duelist, martial artists train in dodging incoming attacks and escaping difficult situations, allowing them to adventure without support roles very easily.


    Not all aspiring adventurers have talents necessary to become a martial artist, it is a relatively rare class nowadays.

 Growth

    "There it is." Lisa pointed towards an artificial object tied between two tree trunks.


    It was a piece of animal skin attached tautly to a wooden frame. Paper was pinned to the front.


    "What is it? A broken down tree hut?" Fred, her party member, asked without much interest.


    Group of four would split up and cover as much ground as possible, to kill as many goblins as possible. But Lisa had come fetch them to show off what she''d found.


    "More like a notice board. Come closer, I''ll show you."


    "We should be slaying right now." Fred complained. "Getting our slay on."


    "It''s about time for a break anyway." Denise commented. "How about we go see what Lisa has found and we''ll have ourselves a picnic?" She was the oldest and also the least ambitious of the group. After reaching a certain age with no real achievements to one''s name, the possibility to rise in rank and become a renowned hero was just not in the cards. Like many, she adventured for the fun and sport of it.


    "Oh, I love your cucumber sandwiches." Said Dennis, the youngest and second least ambitious. He was here because his sister was. Like many children he had wild dreams of heroism and dragon slaying, but that didn''t translate much to putting in an effort.


    "Guys. Can we focus?" Lisa pouted. "This is important."


    "Yeah, yeah. Lead the way." Fred waved his hand.


    -


    When they came to the object she pointed at it demonstratively. "It''s a quest board."


    "No it''s no- Jeez, it is." Fred didn''t want to believe it. It seemed so silly to see a board with quests in the middle of the forest.


    Five portraits of human faces where crudely sketched on white paper and pinned onto the skin with small pins. Just like monster slaying requests a reward was promised underneath.


    "Two gold!? You could buy a horse for that." Fred exclaimed.


    "Who cares about the reward? It''s a kill order for human beings!" Lisa responded a bit angrily.


    "I recognize these people." Denise gasped, her hand over her mouth. "The lightsworn trio. Archie, Tim, and Nat. They''re a level E party."


    "So they''re real people?" Dennis said. "It''s not a fake poster?"


    "If it''s fake it''s in very very bad taste." She stated as she ripped the paper off the board one by one.


    "What does it say there?" Fred asked. "Any participants of the culling..."


    "Somebody doesn''t want adventurers to kill goblins?" Lisa wondered.


    "Either that, or they want the slaying record for themselves." He responded.


    "It doesn''t matter." Denise proclaimed, slightly ticked off. "Adventurers wouldn''t start killing each other over money."


    "Then why did you remove them?" Dennis wanted to know.


    <hr>


    Barbara had become pregnant again.


    Like expected the goblins had responded to their dwindling numbers by trying to breed replacements.


    The upside was that she was allowed out of her cell again. The strongly barricaded room was now reserved for the new girl.


    She didn''t seem to be with child yet, or she''d be making herself heard like all new victims of goblins. Barbara remembered her own first night, when she had seen her stomach bulge out and deform her body to accommodate the parasites. She didn''t have a way to deal with, physically or psychologically.


    Scratch had a theory about breaking the spirit of captives. That was most likely what they were doing now, restricting her movement, making her beg for everything except air. Perhaps it did work, perhaps a sense of gratitude could be forced. Barbara knew that her time in the ropes had made her meeker, but a broken spirit? Never.


    That first night Missy had been there. A previously captured goblin wife. She wouldn''t know what would have become of her if she didn''t have someone to guide her through that fearful period. Perhaps soon she would have to be that someone to Brittany.


    -


    "How long are you going to loiter around this place?" Scratch admonished her. She had been hanging around in front of the new captive''s door for too long. "Come up, we''re making music."


    "Music?" She was befuddled.


    "Yeah, music. You know, dah-dee-dah-dah, that sort of thing. Come up." He gave a commanding gesture, like calling a dog.


    Now was not the time to antagonize him further. She followed him up.


    -


    They were making music. A lute and a flute had been looted from dead adventurers, they were making the rounds for all goblins to try out, and the ones without instruments were singing and clapping along.


    Currently Fyro was plucking two alternating strings on the lute, and Biter blew the same note in different durations on the blowing instrument. It made a recognizable melody.


    "When I''m gone. When I''m go-one. You''re gonna miss me when I''m gone."


    Mac''s voice shone right above the chorus. His chanting was pure and harmonic, a lower soprano. She cracked a little smile at how different she was from his namesake, the pruny old man managed to be off-key just talking normally.


    Barbara sat down on a horse kin, with her pregnant body she had to sit wide-ligged leaning back to be comfortable. It occurred to her not everybody was inside. Second, George and Benjamin had to be outside keeping watch. Before the tribe had relaxed their vigilance after sundown, now they never did. Perhaps her window for escape had passed.


    Scratch leaned into her, his voice inaudible to the others due to the music going on. "I''m going to ask you to reconsider your loyalties. I''ve thought about it, and we can''t keep you here forever if you don''t want to."


    Her ears pricked up. She looked at him confused.


    He stared back into her eyes. "You don''t have any allies where you''re from. If I understood you correctly, from what you''ve described, it seems to me the city counsel needs your guild members to stay in power. Running in with a list of public accusations won''t help you, you''ll get disappeared again. They''ll find an excuse to discredit you, trust me, it''s not hard."


    He had a slightly mocking expression on his face, she felt like he looked down on her. With a few words he had shown having guessed her ambitions, and put them up to scrutiny. He was smarter than her, and infuriatingly aware of it.


    But his face when serious. "That knowledge goes a lot farther in the hands of a rival."


    "A... rival?" Surely the little creature wasn''t suggesting this handful of monster fodder would challenge the business of the thieves'' guild. Where would they even start?


    Before they could continue their conversation Scratch got the lute pressed into his arms. "Oh, is it my turn? Let me see if I can figure this thing out. Alright. I''m going to do a new one."


    He trotted to the middle of the room and addressed the group. "Everybody! For this one I need people to keep time, if you could all do this with your right foot." He rhythmically stomped on the wooden floor at steady intervals, until the group joined him. Then he strummed the snare instrument and began to sing.


    "You can''t stop an avalanche


    As it races down the hill


    You can try to stop the seasons, girl


    But ya know you never will


    And you can try to stop my dancin'' feet


    But I just cannot stand still~"


    After that last part he began to shuffle to and fro on his feet. "Don''t make me do it on my own. I''m getting self-conscious."


    "Cause the world keeps spinnin''


    Round and round


    And my heart''s keeping time


    To the speed of sound


    I was lost til'' I heard the drums


    Then I found my way~"


    Scratch having left a seat free next to Barbara, Linus came up to her, he looked her radically changed form due to pregnancy.


    "These will be your little brothers." She explained, and took his hand to put on her stomach.


    Inside they could feel the unborn children moving around.


    "Woooow." The boy whispered.


    It made her feel less disgusting for carrying monsters in her body.


    Listening to the upbeat music filling the room she almost wanted to dance herself.


    Ever since this old world began


    A woman found out if she shook it


    She could shake up a man


    And so I''m gonna shake and shimmy it


    The best that I can today~


    Several of the goblins certainly took after Scratch''s example and turned the stamping into a little dance of their own.


    It wasn''t all bad. Not everything.


    <hr>


    Runt hid behind the roots of the tree.


    He had had bad experiences with the pigs, or orcs. His original family had welcomed the gifts of the stronger creatures, but they''d been brutally slaughtered when they showed interest in their home.


    This tribe too know of the fickle-ness of the creatures, after a few weeks of peaceful co-existence a trio had come in to kill them one day. They''d been satisfied with the visitors that happened to be there at the moment, Scratch, Second, and the others, but it hadn''t exactly been cordial.


    Yet now their leader was welcoming another one in their midst.


    The orc was dressed in tattered robes and held a large shield and hammer. He was content being served on the dried dirt outside, surrounded by his servants he layed down on his side eating the food of his hosts. So Runt stayed inside, in-between the tree roots, not to be seen by him.


    -


    He couldn''t blame Nug, their leader, for wanting to cozy up to more powerful creatures again.


    He had had the foresight to collect an as large as possible troupe after the orcs had disappeared, and even then they hadn''t been able to stand up to the relentless influx of humans in the forest, killing everything they came across over the past few days.


    The population of the tree home had more than halved since three days ago, and all the women had ran away after being broken out.


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    If it went on like this, the tribe wouldn''t survive for very long.


    But giving all food they had to the orc didn''t help things in the short term either.


    -


    "So, you''ve worked up my appetite." The orc belched as he finished eating the last of their food, the unappetizing cartilage part of one of the tall birds. "Are you going to take responsibility? Come out with a real meal next?"


    "We... food...no more." Nug stammered, instead of gratitude he was confronted by demands for more.


    "Nyeh." The pig spat on the ground in annoyance. "Take a look around, they have plenty."


    The goblins that had followed him around as his entourage began wandering through the area, inside and outside the tree home.


    Some among them carried orcen weapons and armor, although not much more than those of the tree home. They were healthier, better fed, and with more energy than the declining tribe.


    The tree goblins looked on as the visitors entered their home, touched their belongings and lounged in their places. It was a distinct mark of dominance of the guests to be that invasive, Runt could see that.


    Eventually the search did come up short, they really were destitute.


    "Bah!" The orc stood up. "You want food? You want women? Follow me. More food and women than you can count!" He lifted his large hammer and pointed to the west, towards human controlled lands.


    He was wise to use such simple but effective language. Runt almost felt like cheering himself, but it hadn''t gone by him that the creature had been rather eager to get their food for someone that would provide them all with it soon.


    <hr>


    When a new day broke their duties needed to be attended to anew too.


    For now the defense of the fort was going well, at least.


    In part because the goblins, being healed, were able to fight at full capacity.


    In part also because the skill at trap setting was developing.


    It was routine for them to clean out and reset traps after sundown every evening. Dumb had always been the best trap maker, he had had a knack for cruel inventions and camouflage, and had set up some of their most effective pits and snares.


    After he had gone, interest in his lost secrets flared up among the youngest generation. Mac showed the others the way he had seen him knot, and Quiet had relayed to them some ideas and projects Dumb had started in the past. This way, by remembering Dumb, they improved the skills they used in everyday life.


    Soon, they would begin to find more humans that had actually died to the traps in their forest. Never as much as the ones finding their little town, though.


    -


    Not that there was much to defend.


    The dark sorcerer and his goons had turned over the place looking for the shard. Many of the huts were knocked over.


    With the constant fighting and guarding not much time could be dedicated to rebuilding, just the water purifier was crudely reconstructed, the well still untouched.


    With no washing basin they all walked around in days-old clothing. It was only slightly uncomfortable.


    What work was done in-between the little ruins was preparation for battle, the construction and repair arrows, barricades, and weapons.


    Beneath the overhang of the purifier, slightly protected against the harsh sunlight, goblins would come together to make plans and choose their equipment for their next guard duty.


    -


    "Are you okay with that sword?" Fat asked Fyro.


    "I... can''t hold it right." Fyro complained.


    Fat took Fyro''s hand. The healing effect of the salve had created a band of skin around the palm of his right hand, making it harder to hold on to things.


    He pulled a contemplative face. "If we had let it heal without salve, it would have become the same as it was after a while."


    Fyro pulled back his hand. "If we did that, I wouldn''t be able to fight, and I''d die. I can just... hold it in my other hand, like this."


    "Go to Second." Fat advised. "Second can make you a different weapon."


    <hr>


    Scratch crossed his arms. "When you feel the need, you ask. I explained it very clearly."


    The prisoner spat at him. "Go to hell, monster! Get me out of these damn-"


    "Shut it!" He harshly pulled her hair. "You speak when spoken to."


    Linus stood agape to the side. He''d only once seen Scratch angry before, when fighting he was usually calm instead of agitated, when one of the boys misbehaved he was bemused, only when they acted stupid or were about to hurt themselves would he raise his voice. This was different, he wasn''t truly angry, he was putting up a tough act to intimidate the woman.


    Intimidation is a lot easier when the victim is constrained and naked, unable to fight back.


    She winced at his rage and the pain.


    "Look at you." He said with disgust. "Rolling in your filth like an animal."


    At his command she was not allowed to do anything by herself. She had to beg for food, water, cleaning, and to be allowed to go to the toilet.


    The first three she managed to do without, stubborn in her hunger strike. The last need was too strong a biological impetus to suppress however, and she had soiled the painstakingly crafted sheets that made up the bed.


    "If you can''t communicate like an animal, we''ll treat you like an animal." He said sternly. "Is that what you want, to sleep in the bird pen?"


    She stretched her body to throw her weight forward as much as possible in her bound state, trying to headbutt him. But she fell face first on the ground. "Monsters! I''ll-"


    "Yeah, yeah. Let''s give her a day with the geese pecking at her while we clean this pigsty." Scratch turned to Linus.


    "You know how to clean a hide?"


    "Uh..."


    "Ask Quiet. He''ll explain."


    <hr>


    It had only been a few hours since Brittany had been moved to the bird pen. The goblins had already gone out to reset the traps.


    Currently, this meant not just covering up the pit traps again, restring the snares and refilling the slime. It meant updating the board, to sell the lie.


    They now went farther out, and did more. So they were away from the cave for a longer time.


    Therefore, the cave was relatively empty when Barbara went into labour.


    Her unrestrained screams echoed through the cave.


    "Scratch, Scratch. It''s mom. She''s in pain." Linus came up to the foyer from the stairs.


    "Yeah. She makes it hard to ignore, doesn''t she?" He said calmly. He put aside the book and straightened out a piece of fur. "Bring her up, we''ll handle it here this time."


    -


    And so Barbara''s sons guided and partly carried her up into the fur lined room.


    She was breathing heavily.


    "Sit down." Scratch instructed. "I think you have the most experience with this. So just tell us what you need, we''ll get it for you."


    It was more considerate than he had been the first time around. Then again, he was trying to win her over.


    <hr>


    George stood with Kicker and Biter on the tower.


    Their responsibility was keeping an eye out for intruders, but the screams of Barbara were more than a little distracting.


    George was concerned. "Is she in pain?"


    "That''s normal." Answered Kicker.


    "It sounded like that when you were born." Biter added.


    "But we didn''t know her as well, then." Kicker said.


    "But it sounded the same." Biter repeated.


    "It''s loud. It sounds like she''s in pain." George re-iterated.


    Kicker and Biter both shrugged.


    -


    "I think th- Oh no." As George idly glanced over the surroundings the figure of a heavily armored human stood out with a glossy shine.


    He had been attracted by the screams it seemed, already over the perimeter and marching in a straight line towards the cave.


    "Eeeeeooooh!" Biter screamed at the top of his voice. Beside them, there were no other goblins keeping watch over the perimeter. And the ones there that weren''t, were gathering around the woman inside, where other noises drowned out his voice.


    "What are we going to do?" George clutched his shield.


    "There''s only one." Said Kicker. "I''m just going to shoot."


    He released a shot from the crossbow. It deflected against the armored shoulder of the human. He turned around slightly, only now noticing the goblins, but returned on his route. He had clear priorities.


    George jumped off the platform, lightly paining his knees with the impact. "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeelp!" He yelled, running after the enemy. "Heeeelp!"


    If only he could warn Scratch and Linus of the approaching threat. That would at least be something.


    <hr>


    "That''s it. The last one." Scratch encouraged her. "It''s always six, isn''t it?"


    She nodded, still grimacing from the exertion.


    "Then this is the last one.... Ah, excellent. Another boy."


    The one eyed goblin tenderly took the last infant and dried him with a piece of cloth. "What do you want to name them?"


    "I thought about it." She said. "I think-"


    "Heeeeelp!"


    "Jesus, what timing." Scratch cursed with an unknown god. "Barbarians at the gate. Fyro, Mac, there''s spears outside. Linus... You can stand guard."


    -


    Barbara was holding one of the infants against her chest as she saw Scratch and his entourage storm out of the cave.


    Even a D level party wouldn''t stand up to the kind of magic he had displayed.


    She carefully put the newborn down and stood up.


    "Mom?" Linus had stood with his back towards her, trying to guard her for whatever would come through that entrance, now he turned around to question her.


    "Keep guard, sweetie." She whispered. What the goblin didn''t understand that whoever came to attack the little village was not her enemy, he was. And she would aid her saviors in fighting her enemy.


    She looked at the hatch and mentally pictured the layout of the cave. The wooden living space at the top, the narrow staircase, the siderooms, and the long tail downward towards the chicken coop.


    Scratch didn''t know the use of the vial of toxin he had confiscated, and he hadn''t discarded it, that she was certain of.


    Where in the cave could it be? She snapped her fingers. Where else? There''s one place.


    She stood up quickly, momentarily disoriented by the agility gained back after expelling six cumbersome parasites.


    She threw around the furst and books until she had found it. Between the furs of the living space. Where he can keep a close eye on it. Well I beat you, demon. With this to your face the only thing protecting this cave is a handful of goblins.


    She heard the clatter of steel outside. I must be quick, before Scratch does something.


    "Mom?" Again Linus was nosing in her affairs.


    "Didn''t I tell you-"


    The fur in front of the entrance suddenly got violently jerked off.


    "Are you alright?" A man in armor said, from behind a face covering helmet. He was wielding a large mace. Obviously an adventurer of the paladin class. "I heard screaming. This place is filled with-"


    "N-uh!" Linus swung at the man''s knee with his small knife.


    "Goblins!" The paladin kicked Linus across the room. He then walked up to him and crushed his leg with his mace.


    "No!" Barbara exclaimed.


    The man lifted up his mace again, aiming for the head this time.


    "NO!" Before she knew it, she had thrown the vial at the paladin. The glass shattered against the back of his helmet, splatting the toxin on his neck, leaking between the plates.


    <hr>


    "Oh no." As soon as Lisa stepped over the small hill she turned around.


    "What? What, oh no?" Fred walked past her to reach the location first. "Oh no." He repeated after he was able to see over the mound.


    "I wanna see, what''s going on?" Dennis squeezed past them. "I don''t see anything."


    "The board is back." Lisa sighed.


    "The board is what!?" Denise was agitated, the more she was reminded of that foul prank the angrier she got.


    -


    When they approached the board the notices were pinned to it again, but with a key difference this time.


    Big red X''s were crossed over the faces of the lightsworn trio. "Request fulfilled." It said.


    "W-what is this?" Denise stammered.


    "It says they got killed." Fred said at his most delicate.


    "Come on. We''re not going to believe this, are we?" Lisa stated. "A level E party..."


    "No. They might." Denise stated. "They might really be dead. But whoever is putting up these notices wants us to think adventurers did it. Fred, you heard about other board, didn''t you?"


    "Corey and his mate saw one by the river, didn''t say anything ''bout any fulfilled requests though."


    Denise straightened her back and slowly exhaled. "Kids, I''m going to have to ask you to help me take them down. Instead of culling goblins with me today."


    "S-sure." Fred said, impressed by her gravitas.


    "And we can still kill any we meet on the way, can''t we?" Dennis added.


    <hr>


    Paladin Class


    The paladin is a role that divides its attention between protecting and healing. Paladins must train in the use of heavy equipment and the healing magic of Benesant, it is a difficult class to master.


    Adventurers registered as paladins have access to paladin equipment from the guild store and healing magic training.


    Paladins keep party members that are focused on doing damage or other things healthy, but they are not relegated to a support class only. The light magic of a paladin can be used offensively, it is a tremendously versatile class.


    Despite the difficulty of mastering the role of paladin, many adventurers try, and more than a few succeed. It is a prestigious class with many legendary heroes to its name throughout history.

 unity

    Sybrand had been at sea when he had gotten a revelation from his goddess.


    He had taken a lift on a merchant''s vessel from Eston to the Mist Isles, hoping to find gainful employment there. He was an adventurer by trade, quests were the only way for him to make money, and they were getting hard to come by, with how many adventurers there were.


    In the captain''s quarters stood a small shrine, showing the emblems of all twelve gods. Dower, god of the sea, was represented the most prominently, but Benesant''s emblem, the winged deer, was also there.


    It was on the last day of their journey that he was given access to the religious object. The captain had taken note of his religious character for the first time, and invited him to use "the old begging stone".


    It being the last day, he would soon be able to find a temple or shrine in the harbor town, but not to seem ungrateful he took the man up on his offer and communed with his goddess on the ship.


    There he was met with miraculous response.


    -


    Sybrand!


    "Aah!" Never in his life had the goddess ever responded to his prayer.


    Sybrand, among my warriors, you are among the most devout.


    "A-are you certain?" He spoke against the empty air. "I had to become an adventurer, the order judged me-"


    Uh-huh, that''s great. You have no doubts in your heart, I sense it. I wish to send you on a mission.


    "A holy mission? Am I to become your champion? My goddess-!"


    At ease! I already have a champion. Your contribution will be more humble, more fitting for one such as yourself.


    "I... see."


    Pride is a dangerous affliction, young Sybrand. Would you imagine yourself worthy of more?


    "No! No. I wholeheartedly accept your mission, your maje-. Uh, ma''am."


    Very well, your directive shall be the death of a goblin.


    "A goblin? One goblin?"


    In the forests near Eston, near the cliffs to the sea, lives a goblin chieftain. An existence that must be erased.


    "This goblin. Is it some sort of special being? Is it fated to cause a great calamity?"


    Do not question my ways. Its evil offends me, now go.


    "Wait! How can I find this goblin?"


    When you arrive, you will know.


    -


    Invigorated by a holy mission, Sybrand made arrangements to return as soon as he arrived.


    Five days later, he stepped foot on the continent again.


    Right around this time of year, the adventurers'' guild held the culling event in Eston. A game to get kids interested in adventuring, where they killed as much goblins as possible.


    The forests were overrun by cullers. These were rank F adventurers trying to make a quick buck. He didn''t even attempt to party up with anyone.


    Sybrand had worked hard to rise up to rank D after leaving the order. He was now at the level where he was fighting orcs and trolls, beginning adventurers would just hold him back.


    After buying a loaf of dry bread with the last of his copper, he determined in which direction the cliffs were, and just started walking.


    A hike in full plate is laborious and exhausting, but he couldn''t very well afford transportation. It didn''t matter, he had been given a holy mission by the goddess of light herself. He would find the strength.


    "When you arrive, you will know." The words spooked through his head. He has seen no signs of distorted corruption, of a darkness overtaking the lands. Only disparate bands of adventurers having fun, killing goblins.


    So he kept marching, without pause, towards the cliff side and the ocean. If, having reached that, he could not locate any goblin of importance, he would scour the entire coastline in search of it. But no, he couldn''t think like that, he had to have faith. Surely, the object of his search would reveal itself to him.


    When he entered a part of the forest with no bird song, no chirping of insects, he knew he was on the right track.


    With overwhelming force her obliterated the traps laid out in front of him. He was tired, and they were skilfully made, but the light magic of Benesant coursed through his veins. Every step of the way he boosted his body using mana, allowing him to maintain his strength.


    -


    Then, he heard the cries of pain of a woman.


    His mind dulled by the exhaustion, but his body still in top form, he set course for the source of the sound.


    He encountered some resistance on the way, from somewhere goblins were firing ranged weapons at him. He healed himself and kept his path straight.


    Followers of Benesant were dedicated to spreading her influence, that meant not just slaying evil, but also doing good. Right now, someone was being tortured, saving her was the first thing that had to be on the mind of a paladin.


    His destination was a small brick shack, sticking out of the side of the cliff. The sea had to be on the other side.


    A handful of goblins stormed out of the opening in front, wielding primitive weapons. Sybrand didn''t waste time, he kicked the one first to approach him, knocking it to the ground, and immediately stepped over it.


    Any of the others that still blocked his way as he walked past he swung at with his mace, forcing them to duck away.


    He jerked off the hide obscuring the entrance, and was greeted by the stench of sweat and blood.


    In front of them stood a woman in her early thirties, dressed in rags. She had a terrified look on her face.


    "Are you alright?" He asked. "I heard screaming. This place is filled with-" He felt a knife glance the armor on his knees and kicked the goblin that had ambushed him. "-goblins!"


    As he waited for the captured woman to answer, he went in to kill the goblin.


    It was then when he heard the sound of glass shattering, and felt cold liquid seeping into his neck.


    As the smell of the toxin reached him the world started to blur, colors danced for his eyes, and he fell to the ground.


    <hr>


    "What the hell was that?" Scratch yelled out after intruding upon the scene, he had a visible headwound from the fight.


    The adventurer lay prone on the ground, Linus was in a half upright position, breathing heavily, and the infants were screaming. Barbara stood still, her mouth slightly agape.


    "Mom killed the human." Linus groaned. His legs had been crushed in the fight.


    Scratch stepped towards the heavily armored body, he turned the head around using both arms on his little body to look at the wound. But he found none. What he did see was the pupils of the man rapidly dilate and contract over and over.


    "Fucking hell." He cursed over the screaming. "He''s still alive. Somebody hand me a kni-"


    "Linus!" Mac came storming past him out of concern for his brother. "Your legs!"


    Other goblins gathered around the entrance, looking concerned. Using the magic potion on his legs in their current state would leave them permanently disfigured, perhaps non-functional. But not using it at all would give him a slow painful death.


    "I''m alright." Linus put up a brave face. "The babies. Look at the babies."


    "No." Scratch demanded. "Look at the enemy. Look at this, he''ll be up raising hell any moment now."


    "He won''t..." Barbara slowly lowered herself to the ground. "In an enclosed space... the vapors of the mana toxin... will hang around for an hour or more."


    "What''s this? What''s she talking about?" Scratch asked Linus, like he''d know.


    Linus gave a hint of a shrug and went back to looking at his ruined legs.


    "With mana toxin..." Barbara sunk to the ground completely. "...our own magic is turned against us. The more magic..." She collapsed on the floor.


    "Poison." Scratch covered his face with his hand. "Everybody evacuate, take the children. It''s a goddam bio-weapon."


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    -


    They lifted the babies from their bed and ran outside with them.


    Mac took Linus over his shoulder and dragged him out behind the rest.


    After the goblins had been secured, they went on with secondary concerns. Covering his face up with a piece of cloth and picking up one of the spears, Biter went inside to slice the man''s throat.


    Only after that did he drag Barbara out.


    It took several minutes of fresh air for her to regain consciousness.


    In that time, a light rain started. The cold water made the children uncomfortable, and they started to whine again.


    "Not now, we haven''t got time for that." Fyro admonished them, and in some capacity they understood his words, quieting down.


    "There''s still a roof over the lumber." Mac said. "We can keep dry over there."


    They moved the newborn to the lumber, only Scratch, Kicker and Biter remained where they were. Waiting for the rain to wake up their woman.


    -


    "The others should come back soon." Kicker commented.


    "Uh-huh." Biter answered.


    "They''ll be in for a surprise!"


    "Uh-huh." Biter''s response was still tepid as he kept his gaze on Barbara.


    "Because they... didn''t expect... hhm." The dialogue petered out.


    After a period of silence, Barbara opened her eyes.


    "Well, start talking." Scratch demanded.


    <hr>


    We are back in the eastern area from before. It still looks just like the other rank F areas in the region.


    ¡¾A single orc and multiple goblins, you said?¡¿David comments, he is leading the way, walking ahead of us.


    ¡¾That''s what it was looked like.¡¿Theresa answers, not far behind him.


    ¡¾I''m only asking because orcs usually live in large tribes.¡¿


    ¡¾I think we''d know dearie.¡¿Comes Angela''s call from the back.


    They''re all part of "Xandra''s party" now. Theresa and Angela decided to join us after we saved them here, they''re a duelist and a healer respectively. David is a ranger we picked up in Eston.


    This is a proper adventuring expedition now. We''re not just some kids lifting along with our uncle. I suppose this sort of thing is common in this world, normal adventuring of mob characters is what the adventurers guild is for, not the world saving adventures the heroes of the story will do.


    I think I remember the location where the orc dungeon will be, years from now. Now that our party is a lot bigger, maybe we can challenge the orc before it starts a tribe, and prevent the high orc dungeon boss from ever being there in the first place.


    ¡¾Hey. Hey!¡¿As I am thinking about these things, Xandra is trying to get me attention.¡¾Hey, Rudy!¡¿


    ¡¾Hm? What is it?¡¿


    ¡¾I don''t understand why you''re so fixated on this monster. I just want to say... I''ll help you, okay? I''ll help you do what you think you have to do.¡¿


    ¡¾Yeah, that''s great Xandra. Angela,¡¿I turn around and walk backwards for a bit to talk to her, ¡¾, was it around here somewhere?"


    ¡¾We must be getting close.¡¿She answers.¡¾Of course, we weren''t able to explore our surroundings much, I hope you understand. Rudy.¡¿


    ¡¾Yes. I understand.¡¿My mind is already imagining how stopping the dungeon will change the course of events in the story. If the orcs never get established in the area, the road to the harbor is never blocked by a defensive fortification from the army. And the heroes will be able to travel by boat whenever they''d like. They wouldn''t need to go through the entire arc in the witchwood and win the trust of the fairy queen first.


    With that arc skipped over, the demon king would be defeated within a few weeks. He probably won''t be able to attack Linefort with his army and kill the princess. The death of the princess is considered a shocking and tragic moment by all players of "four kingdoms". Stopping it would be amazing.


    -


    Eventually we do arrive at the nests where Angela and Theresa were captured.


    We all ready our weapons, but there are only a few goblins there.


    Theresa, Xandra and I quickly kill them.


    ¡¾There''ve been a lot of ''em here." David comments as he inspects the marks on the ground.¡¾Rhada in the heavens a lot! More than a hundred!¡¿


    ¡¾That can''t be right.¡¿Theresa states.¡¾When we were here only a few dozen of goblins around.¡¿


    ¡¾Well, there''s more of them now. And most of them are out.¡¿


    He has to be right. All around us are the signs of a large tribe. The remains of multiple animals hunted for food, countless paths of trampled undergrowth instead of a few, and discarded items and clubs everywhere.


    Theresa is unconvinced.¡¾Well they can''t-¡¿


    ¡¾They can.¡¿Angela interrupts her. ¡¾Goblins are a weak race. They follow any creature more powerful than themselves. The ''pig'', the orc, if he came with the plan to subjugate more goblin nests, it wouldn''t be hard for him to do so.¡¿


    ¡¾That''s it!¡¿Xandra yells out painfully hard, hurting my ear.¡¾A dark lord! Dark lords always start out as strong monsters that force weaker monsters to obey them! This is that! If we stop this pig, we might even be stopping the rise of the next demon king!¡¿


    ¡¾Haha. Sure.¡¿I laugh it off.


    ¡¾Don''t laugh too soon, Rudy.¡¿David ponders.¡¾Xandra might be on to something. Even if he''s not the next demon king, this orc is a growing threat to the region. If not for the farms, then at least for the adventurers that practice their fighting here.¡¿


    ¡¾Most likely to the farms too.¡¿Angela taps the side of her nose.¡¾Why do you think there''s so little here to defend the home? They''re out raiding.¡¿


    ¡¾Oh no! We have to stop them! We have to warn somebody." Xandra yells out.¡¾Dave, can you track them. You''re a ranger, right?¡¿


    ¡¾I am only rank F, but it''s a big war path. More importantly, can you guys take them on? There''s a hundred of them.¡¿


    ¡¾Ye-¡¿


    ¡¾No.¡¿I interrupt Xandra.


    If we were the heroes of the story, we would get lucky and win a fight against the odds. But we''re just mob characters. Fighting against the odds with your life on the line is just a bad gamble! That''s like betting all your savings on a mahjong game with no pairs in your opening hand.


    ¡¾Even if we can win, the chances that we die are also very large.¡¿I explain.¡¾I don''t want that.¡¿


    ¡¾Your boyfriend is wise.¡¿Theresa comments.


    ¡¾He isn-¡¿¡¾I''m no-¡¿


    We talk through each other and it gets awkward.


    ¡¾We should head back and report this to the guild.¡¿Angela comments.¡¾Didn''t you say you had found a world memory in a ruined farm? That could very well be related.¡¿


    ¡¾Do we have to?" Xandra complains.¡¾What about the culling?¡¿


    I too am worried about the culling. The spring amulet is important to the story of the game, and now it isn''t where it''s supposed to be.


    ¡¾This is more important." Angela berates her.¡¾The culling is supposed to be a safe event for rank F adventurers like us, but now the danger has gone up. People need to know.¡¿


    -


    We immediately head back, making sure not to follow the path of the goblin army.


    ¡¾It looks like it''s leading downriver.¡¿David says.¡¾I''ve been there before, there''s a family with a mill there.¡¿


    Xandra almost immediately changes direction to save them, but I pull her back.


    On our way out of the forest we see another group of adventurers. There''s five of them, a Vanguard, a healer, and some damage dealers.


    ¡¾More people coming into the orcs'' territory.¡¿Theresa says.


    ¡¾Tell them about the army¡¿I say.


    ¡¾Hey!¡¿Xandra calls out to them.


    But they suddenly take a defensive stance.


    ¡¾Don''t come any closer. We mean you no harm!¡¿The vanguard says.


    ¡¾What''s the problem?¡¿She starts walking towards them.


    ¡¾I said don''t come closer!¡¿


    I quickly run up to her and stop her from advancing.


    ¡¾They don''t seem like they want to make conversation.¡¿I tell her.


    ¡¾Well why not?¡¿She hisses back.


    Eventually, the two groups circle around each other in a wide arc, until we both can go our separate ways.


    ¡¾That was strange.¡¿Theresa comments. ¡¾They made it clear they didn''t want to attack us, but they didn''t trust us not to attack them."


    ¡¾Makes you wonder what kind of people they think we are.¡¿Angela responds.


    <hr>


    "So the poison is meant for opponents that are, what, strong?"


    "Stronger than oneself, yes." Barbara sat on the ground being interrogated. The rain was getting stronger and soaking their clothes. "The vapors of mana toxin disrupt how your magic works. The more magic, the more damage."


    She put her hand against her head. "I''m not an adventurer or knight, so it only hurts a little."


    Scratch folded his arms. "And you were hoping to defend us against adventurers with it?"


    "Ye-"


    "Tell us the truth Barbs."


    "I kept it to use on you."


    There was a moment of silence. Kicker and Biter looked at Scratch to see what his reaction would be.


    Then he burst out laughing.


    "Ha! On me!" He slapped her on the back. "Because I''m the most powerful creature you know, right?"


    She didn''t laugh along.


    "You can sit with the others, we''re getting soaked out here. Guys, let''s go back inside and clean up the corpse. Maybe get some salve for Linus'' legs."


    As Barbara shuffled towards the lumber he gave some vague hand gestures to the others, signaling Kicker, Biter, and he were going back to the cave.


    "It''s not dangerous?" Biter asked.


    "Not to the likes us of. Goblins have no magic." He explained.


    -


    Barbara put the trauma of ruining her own chances of escape out her head as she approached Linus and the newborn.


    The newborn were put on the damp grass underneath the little shelter, they were surrounded by Fyro and George, who couldn''t gt enough of them as curiosity. Linus was resting with his back against a split log of hickory. He was putting on a brave face and trying not to be obtrusive to the others, but Mac was squeezing his hand in sympathy.


    She thought about his namesake, the ruthless bandit boss Lydia Harkness. She couldn''t imagine Harkness being comforted by another.


    "Linus, baby, how''s it going?" She whispered, kneeling next to him.


    "Huuuuh." He sniffed. "My legs."


    "I know, I know. Be strong, okay? Your dads are getting you some magic." She stroked his hair.


    It was strange being so lovey and motherly towards a goblin. But she couldn''t let her pride get in her way now. Even if it was playing into Scratch''s hand, or somehow destroying her ability to escape, she had to be there for the boy she''d been taking care of.


    She felt a tug at the crude garnment she was wearing. It was a tiny baby hand of a goblin exploring the world.


    She picked him up, a big smile appeared on the newborn''s face when he looked at her.


    "Have you boys seen your new brothers?" She asked Mac and Linus, holding the baby towards them.


    Co-operating with the attempt to distract him, Linus reach out with his hand and pressed his finger on the child''s nose. The child slapped it away with an indignant expression.


    "I''ve been getting to name you boys." She said, bringing the infant back to her chest. His eyes sparkled with intelligence, he seemed to almost understand what she was saying.


    "I think this time, I''ll name you after heroes of legend." She turned towards the rest of the litter. Fyro and George, who had been playing with them, paused to listen her words.


    "So this one will be Haruto, this one Yuto, Sota, Yuki, Hayato, and... Haruki."


    "What sort of names are those?" George asked.


    "The first heroes came from a different world." Barbara explained. "They had strange and exotic names from a wonderous foreign star."


    "You hear that, Hayato?" Fyro said. "You''re just like a hero, yeah!"


    The child laughed at his older brother''s enthusiasm and wildly waved his arms about.


    <hr>


    "Are we going to take the whole jar?" Asked Kicker, looking at the tall ceramic vase.


    "We should take the whole jar." Biter said.


    "What''s the alternative?" Asked Scratch. "Cup it in our hands? Come on, put your knees into it."


    They had alread dragged the body outside where it could lose the rest of its blood, and thrown the bloodied pelts into the water basin. Now they were retrieving the magic salve for healing purposes.


    "Scratch, you''re hurt." Biter tutted, and reached for the ladle.


    "Oh no. Nonono, not me." Scratch held his hand in front of his forehead to cover the scrape the adventurer had given him.


    Biter loosened his grip. "Why not?"


    "Vanity. Now you two carry this thing."


    -


    Scratch led the way as his brothers shuffled behind him, holding the precious container.


    He stopped when he came to the cell door and slammed his flat palm against the thin planks multiple times as a sort of knock. "You hanging in there?"


    "Go to hell, monster!" The captured woman screamed.


    "She''s alright, continue upward."


    -


    When they came to the staircase, Scratch, who was in front, kept the vase upright as it was pushed through the trap door.


    "Hey!" He called to the outside. "We''re preparing the wonder juice! Anybody happen to have mangled legs in need of jesus powers?"


    The one that appeared in the doorway wasn''t any of the people that had fled the premises less than an hour ago, it was Fat.


    "So, back from setting traps? We''re not making ready for bed yet, thinks have been a bit hectic-"


    "T-there''s a problem." Fat stuttered.


    From behind him appeared a foreign goblin.


    <hr>


    Ranger Class


    The ranger class is for survival specialism, and very suited for solo adventuring.


    Adventurers registered as rangers have access to combat lessons and ranging equipment in the guild store.


    Monster components harvested by rangers of rank E and up can be sold on guild premises directly to other adventurers.


    Parties setting out for long quests through wild lands are advised to take at least one ranger along, making it a much sought-after class among high level parties.

 homeless, tempest-tossed

    The goblin in question was called ''Bread''. He had the healthy teeth and clear skin of a newborn goblin, but already a scar over the bridge of his nose.


    Scratch had ushered everybody out, and they explained the situation near the children, while the wounded were being treated.


    "Must flee." Bread said. "Humans. Goblins. Wolves."


    Scratch crossed his arms, showing strong impatience with the feral goblin''s fragmented speech.


    Fat quickly took over. "B-Bread is from the river tribe. They had to e-escape, adventurers have killed their leader, and other goblins have started raiding in that area."


    "Raiding? Who can afford to raid when the place is teeming with hit men?"


    "They might feel they have to." Said Second. He and Quiet had arrived at around the same time, but been distracted by the new litter. "If they''ve run out of food."


    "How many?" Scratch addressed Bread with.


    "Huh?"


    "How many of you are here trying to get asylum? That''s what you want, right?"


    "No want asyloom. Just want safe home. Fifteen goblins, we serve you."


    "They want to be part of our tribe, Scratch." Fat explained.


    "Scratch give us mother." Bread said, repeating information imparted to him from earlier generations. "They say, go to Scratch, Scratch is leader."


    "I see..." Scratch looked Bread up and down. If he was from the river tribe, he had to be born from the woman they''d snatched from the farm. It was the cave tribe that had introduced the concept of bread to them, so this child that was named after it had to have been born since then. "Well, no use in having them hide out in the forest. Bring ''em in, they can stay here, on the tower."


    "Thank you." The goblin did a strange little bow and ran off.


    There goes our buffer. Though I suppose we''re stronger together. Cyclophan will no doubt be pleased too, to have more monsters near his shard thing. Scratch thought to himself.


    -


    There were too many things to consider now. Adventurers storming in during the night, refugees, children, Barbara''s loyalty, the suspicious healing salve, the half-baked mission board scheme, it was disorientating having to think about all of it. "Did everything go well?" He asked Second.


    "We updated the board as you asked, but that''s not on my mind right now, what''s on my mind is what happened here, did things go well with you?"


    "Apparently the sounds of childbirth attract adventurers. We''ve got a new litter, I didn''t even catch their names."


    "Yuto, Sota, Yuki, Hayato, and Haruki" Said Quiet, holding one of them.


    "What''s that, Chinese? More enemies of yours, Barb?"


    Barbara shook her head.


    "Good, because that''s a horrible basis for naming your offspring."


    Next to her George came up to Quiet and spoke softly to him. "Can you go sit with Linus? He''s hurt in his legs and we''re using the salve." Quiet handed the infant to his nephew and left to comfort his other one.


    It didn''t escape Scratch how important Quiet had become to them.


    -


    Suddenly he felt very tired. The rush of adrenaline from the fight had subsided and he felt the fatigue setting in.


    "I trust you have a plan," Second said in his ear, "because we don''t have enough food for all these goblins to last three weeks more."


    There were too many things to consider, just... way too many things.


    <hr>


    "Guildmaster. There are more matters for you to attend to." Marie urged her aging superior.


    The past years it seemed like the man wasn''t able to focus as much anymore, and his memory was fading.


    "Oh dear." The aging adventurer groaned. "It''s all going so fast, and I haven''t sorted all these applications yet."


    The desk was a chaotic mess of strewn about papers and etchings. The weekly deluge of mission requests, adventurer applications and training kept the management of the Eston branch busy on any given time of year, but during the culling it was extra busy. Then there were these distressing reports from the cliff side...


    "I suppose I can''t expect you to sit in for an old man, can I Marie?" The guildmaster said with puppy dog eyes.


    "Sir, with matters such as these, the presence of the guildmaster would absolutely be necessary."


    "You''re right, you''re right, of course you''re right." He lifted himself out of his chair and almost fell over. "Zounds, Dronk give me strength."


    "Shouldn''t that be Rhada, sir?" She came in to steady him. He had just invoked the god of war, instead of the goddess of fire that was the patron to his country.


    "Not the way I do it." He laughed. "You know, once, all members of the guild had to swear loyalty to-"


    "Sir."


    "I''m rambling. The meeting. I''m sure that I can get myself to-"


    "Not at all. I agree now, you should get some rest. I will sit in for you."


    "Marie, you''re an angel."


    -


    An angel huh? She thought to herself as she descended to the conference room. A familiar spirit, more like. The way you keep getting me to do your work for you.


    "Marie." Boris, the quartermaster stated as she came in. "Boss has you doing his dirty work again, hasn''t he?"


    "Helping where I can." She gave a fake smile.


    "How''re things with the succession, you must be first in line for guildmaster."


    "We don''t discuss such things." She was a little offended. "The guildmaster still has many years of dedicated service ahead of him."


    "Huh-hm." Boris gave a non-commital response.


    "You can let them in now."


    -


    In came a reasonably sized party of level F adventurers. Three adults and two kids.


    Marie was pleased to see she still had an intimidating effect on newcomers as the man in front took a step back at the sight of her. Her tall and broad stature was what made her such a good vanguard, even if she hadn''t been on any adventure for almost a year now.


    "Take a seat, huh, ''Xandra''s party''." She read the name of a piece of paper in front of her. "Who of you is Xandra?"


    "Yes, me, I''m the leader!" The weakest looking member wormed herself through the posse to the front. A young girl wearing martial artist batons on her hips. Or maybe a halfling.


    Marie suppressed a sigh. Somehow she felt like this was going to be an exhausting conversation. "Why don''t we go over exactly what you saw in that forest."


    -


    After the adventurers relayed their story, Marie sank into deep thought.


    There was a moment of silence before she spoke. "David, was it? You''ve only been a ranger for a short while now, are you absolutely certain?"


    "Was hard to miss, miss. Everything was trampled. If not by goblins, then by something stronger, but there were close to a hundred of them."


    "The farm raids, from before, how many were those?" She asked Boris.


    "There''s been another farm raided?" One of the other adventurers interrupted, the little boy, this time.


    "You know of that?"


    "We found a world memory, a few weeks ago, we showed it to the guild master!" Xandra waved around the little whisk card.


    "What!?" Marie snatched it out of her hand. It clearly showed goblins sneaking around a house to break in in the back. Did the guildmaster forget? We could have been prepared for this.


    "We''ve known about these farm raids for a few days now." Boris explained. "We heard a member of the Tanner family has taken up residency in the town, so we hoped to convince him to have some of his family''s troops make an excursion there." He scratched the back of his head. "He wasn''t cooperative. That patch of land is getting increasingly dangerous, there''s reports of adventurers attack each other over some anti-adventurer bounty."


    "Your report has been vital." Marie told the adventurers. "This can''t continue, the enemy is growing too powerful. Either the adventurer''s guild deals with it, or duchy will have to establish a fortress here."


    "So what now?" The healer of the group asked.


    "You can be the first to hear. We''re issuing a promotion quest. Any rank F party that slays this orc lord can ascend to rank E."


    "Shouldn''t you take this up with the guild master?" Boris asked.


    "I''m sure he''ll come to the same conclusion. A goblin nests needs to be dealed with as quickly as possible. A hundred goblins, that counts as a nest."


    After that, the meeting was adjourned and the adventurers left.


    "Rank E? Only half of all adventurers reaches rank E!" She could hear Xandra exclaim in excitement as they walked out. To the "how do you even know that?" of her same age party member.


    It seemed like the rookies were eager to take on the quest.


    "Think they''ll make it?" Boris asked.


    She scoffed. "Let''s put an official notice on the board just in case these don''t."


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    <hr>


    "Where''s the rest of them?" Scratch kept recounting the visiting goblins, they were now seated in a huddle against the side of the tower.


    The sun had already gone down, but the light of the stars illuminated the world plenty for goblin eyes.


    "Fifteen. Did nobody we''ve met before make it?"


    Bread wildly shook his head. "Nobody."


    Scratch sighed. It was no wonder goblins were primitive, in less then a month the entire population of the tribe had been replaced. There was no passing down of knowledge under those conditions.


    "Listen up!" He addressed the refugees as a group, his own family at his back in the form of Kicker and Biter. "Our two families will work together to survive the culling, do you know what the culling is?"


    There was no answer, but the generally blank and questioning expressions answered his question.


    "This onslaught will last for three more weeks." He held up his fingers. "After that, humans will stop appearing... as much. That''s twenty-one days if anyone''s wondering."


    The children were looking at their fingers trying to figure out his numbers.


    "Now we can''t take care of you. This isn''t a soup kitchen. So after today''s meal you''ll have to hunt your own food, however, we will build a shelter from the rain and cold here for you to sleep in, is that understood?"


    There was nodding from at least a few faces.


    "Good. Then for the coming three weeks, be our guests."


    "Only three weeks?" "No more than that?" Kicker and Biter asked him when he turned away from the crowd.


    "Even hunting their own food they''ll be a burden on our ability to get it. Long term, they''ll be more valuable as allies than as family." He said curtly. And I didn''t raise these ones with my own values like I did you. He thought. "Now let''s organize into groups and set up some roofing."


    -


    The tower was built from mining refuge packed with earth and stacked logs, with some planks on the top as flooring.


    They leaned left over fragments from the mud-huts against it to create enclosed spaces and created one larger room from left over lumber and thatch roofing.


    Once the visitors came to understand the process they eagerly helped building shelter.


    Eventually the judgment had to be made whether or not to let them use their water. Scratch decided they could use filtered water from the well, but not the condensed water from the purifier.


    All of them were parched and they crowded around the well to drink from it. More than a dozen wild goblins in loincloths flooded the square and Barbara was brought back inside with the children.


    Even at the river the kids had lived in a permanent state of slight dehydration, due to how unclean it was. But now they could drink to their own hearts content.


    A fight even broke out over who could get to it first and for how long.


    Scratch made eye contact with Bread and with a commanding expression gestured for him to stop it.


    A single goblin was dragged out of the brawl, singled out as the instigator, and made to wait for water last.


    After that, they continued building. Though some of them had collapsed and fallen asleep in the half-finished shelter.


    By the time it was finished the sun was already creeping up.


    "Aw shit," Scratch complained, "that''s what you get."


    "What you get?" Asked Second.


    "For all this ''kindly neighbour'' stuff. We''re at the end of our latin here, it''s day and we''re gonna have to pull through without sleep, without meditation."


    "It''s worth it." Second stated.


    "Hhhmm." Scratched doubted.


    <hr>


    "Gahaha!" Gubok celebrated while devouring the humans'' fruit.


    He lifted the basket above the swirling mass of green bodies to keep it to himself.


    Humans sure were stupid, stockpiling all their resources in one place just for a stronger race to come collect it. He had no idea why Ragar had insisted on staying hidden.


    He could easily hop from farm to farm, gather food, and grow his goblin army using the residents for a few days before moving on. By now he had more minions than he could count.


    "Give food!" A young one rudely snorted at him.


    "Scram, ''noid." He barely looked at the goblin, until it slammed its club against his shin.


    Immediately he kicked it in the chest, making it fall over, and crushed its skull with his heel.


    That was another great thing about goblins. There were no politics. If any of them were dissatisfied with his reign, they would quickly make it clear so he could crush them. It made them a lot easier to control.


    -


    When his appetite was fulfilled for then he threw aside the food for his underlings to scrounge on and waded through the sea of green.


    The building was, in his view, unnecessarily large for the number of occupants. Three elders, a mated pair, and a couple of children, hardly an entire clan.


    But his army barely fit inside, the goblins filled every inch of flooring in the building they were tearing apart. He could hear the screams of their victims coming from the cellar where they''d been found.


    Before long, he''d have enough of them.


    Ragar should have found the shard by now, either that or moved on with the clan. With a large enough army, he''d be able to overwhelm his old clan and take control.


    His fists tightened imagining himself killing Kubar and claiming the title of champion of bloodshed. He execute anybody that challenged the way he had taken control and feed them to his flock.


    -


    His fantasies of triumph were interrupted by the sound of shrieking humanoids.


    Both his own and the taller kind were making noise near the entrance of the domicile. Some real warriors had dropped in to challenge his rampage.


    Gubok violently kicked his minions aside to find Ragar''s warhammer, strewn on the floor in his eagerness to feed.


    Flashy lights lit up the early morning sky as the challengers were rending apart their smaller kin. Magic. Gubok thought with revulsion. The insidious tool of humanoids, humanoids and demons.


    He burst through the inelegant wooden opening to confront the small task force of human fighters. They weren''t with many, but they seemed to have no trouble wading through the mass of greenskins.


    Normally, Gubok would have felt fear when encountering them. Not long ago he almost died to a team of humans. But he had since learned that humans as strong as that woman were rare.


    The humans that had killed Ragar and the others had smelled musky, like the moss of the forest, these ones smelled awfully like soap. The cleaner humans smelled the weaker they were. By the droves they would pour into the forest, wielding inferior equipment, challenging only their weaker kin and fleeing from the sight of orcs.


    One of the humans pointed at him and shrieked those weird monkey shrieks. It seemed like these were willing to fight.


    Gubok grinned. He didn''t like fighting as much as an orc was expected to, but he liked it a lot more when his enemies were weaker than him.


    With a few well placed bashes he broke their formation, allowing his tiny servants to flood their bodies and tear them apart.


    Yes, champion of bloodshed, that future was inevitable.


    <hr>


    Scratch''s pessimism turned out to be unfounded.


    The refugees themselves had a hand in defending their new home. On top of that, despite the first half of the month not being over yet, the number of adventurers seemed to dry up.


    That day, only a single party attacked their home. They killed some of the wild goblins, but none of the cave''s inhabitants.


    It didn''t stop him from grumbling all throughout the day.


    "Just- just get in you piece of... damn-" He cussed at his needle while sewing clothes.


    "Is Scratch angry?" Fyro asked Quiet.


    Quiet shook his head and gave a soft word as alternative, "Tired."


    "Ah, hes''s irra- irrit-"


    "Irritable."


    "You know I can hear you." Scratch spoke loudly and irritated. "You go do this. I''m taking a walk."


    He threw the half-finished tunic at Fyro and stomped out of the dining room.


    -


    Fyro looked at the skin quizzingly.


    "For the kids, when they grow up." Quiet said, he was working on his own piece.


    "I know that! But how... where do I..."


    Quiet''s eyebrows shot up, this was the first time they''d sewn clothes since Fyro had been born, he didn''t know anything about it. "I''ll show you. Sit here." His voice grew louder and more confident in the teaching role.


    -


    Scratch would have to pass through the foyer in his path to the surface. Barbara hadn''t left it since the day before, it was being aired of bad smells and possible toxins so the entrance was kept wide open.


    Passively, they had all come to the understanding that she would not run away. She was the one watching over her litter, and attending to them when they needed something. So now they were trusting her to do good by them as well.


    Scratch had the vague sense that that was a bad move, but he didn''t have the energy to think about it. They were going to have to trust her.


    Before he went up the stairs and through the hatch door towards the foyer, he encountered Fat and George, carrying a vase of water downstairs.


    "Brittany." George said, subconsciously licking his lips.


    "She''s finally asking for stuff." Fat added.


    "Who- Ah, yes. The prisoner. Yeah, no, it makes sense that thirst would be first. Go ahead." He let them past. They had a different woman on the premises. Her position was a lot different to Barbara''s.


    -


    When Scratch came up through the hatch the goblins were surrounding the newborns once again.


    Even in the half day since their birth, they had grown noticably.


    Scratch just took a glimpse at the toddlers playing on and over Barbara''s lap, over Second''s shoulder, and intended to keep moving, but Fat stopped him.


    "One of them was inside this morning."


    "One of who? The loincloths?"


    Fat nodded affirmingly. "Sniffed out Mom."


    "Argh!" Unintentionally, Scratch''s groan of frustration turned into a yell. "I knew this was a bad idea, did anybody get hurt?"


    "B-but Bread and the others stopped him and punished him." Fat quickly continued. "So in the end, there wasn''t a pr-"


    Scratch put his hand over Fat''s face as he passed him. "Don''t. They''re not your friends."


    As he left the cave, Fat and Second exchanged a meaningful gaze and quickly followed.


    -


    The river goblins were hanging around the tower, some lying on the ground and enjoying the sun, others chasing each other around the structure.


    Bread abruptly stood up when he saw Scratch approaching and ran up to him.


    "Where is he?" Scratch wanted to know.


    Bread tried to maintain his composure. "Loud no longer friend, we stop-"


    "But where is he now, what are you doing with him?


    Bread gestured in a direction and took Scratch to where they had taken their transgressor.


    Fat and Second had caught up to him and followed them both.


    -


    The impulsive ''Loud'' had been dragged towards the latrine trench, which was teeming with slimes.


    There, two goblins were pummeling him to death with wooden clubs. Presumably so they wouldn''t have to drag his body very far afterwards.


    Seeing this Scratch increased pace and yelled out to them. "Stop. What in the world do you think you''re doing?" His tone was that of an angry parent, admonishing children for drawing on the wall.


    The two pintsized excutioners stopped what they were doing and looked at each other doubtfully.


    "Who put you up to this?" Scratch asked, in a more normal tone, once he stood next to them.


    "Strong say-"


    "Strong, is that your leader, Strong?"


    "Yesh."


    Second glanced at Bread, he had assumed the goblin that had come to plead with them had been the leader of the group, but diplomacy was a delegated task in this tribe, apparently.


    "Strong say, no make magic goblin mad."


    "Magic goblin?" Scratch continued his inquiry. "Who''s magic goblin?"


    The goblin pointed an unsure finger towards him.


    "Me, I''m magic?"


    "Yesh."


    "Well what really makes me angry is unnecessary deaths in my backyard, pick him up."


    Those present all looked at the mangled criminal twiching on the ground, several broken bones and bruises.


    "We can heal him, pick him up."


    -


    Eventually, Loud was lathered in Cyclophan''s false flesh, coming out far from pretty.


    Scratch used the opportunity to climb up to the tower and address the refugees.


    "Yo, listen up dunderheads! This isn''t your new home."


    His strong words got the attention of the population and they stopped what they were doing to turn their heads towards him.


    "Everything inside these barriers belongs to me." He gestured towards the perimeter. "We let you sleep here, but we don''t let you live here."


    There was a silence.


    "Do you understand what I''m saying? There''s no river goblin embassy here, you don''t get to have your own rule of law. Nobody gets executed unless I say so. So I brought your boy Loud back."


    He gestured towards the healed goblin, he looked like he was mummified in bands of skin, covering up the wounds on his chest and arms. The others took their distance from him.


    "He knows not to do it again, don''t you Loud?"


    Contrary to his name, Loud didn''t speak. Instead he slowly nodded. His lip was trembling.


    "And that''s good enough for me. Anybody got a problem with that? Good." He didn''t really wait for anybody to properly speak up. "Nobody gets near the cave, except for whoever here is called Strong, Strong I want to speak with you."


    "What''s a rule of law?" Fat asked when Scratch climbed down.


    "That''s a great question for another time." He answered, scanning the crowd for the visitor''s leader to turn up.


    <hr>


    ¡¾Rudy, where are you going?¡¿Xandra asks me.


    ¡¾I just... have a feeling that this is where he''s made his new base.¡¿I try to explain.


    How can I explain that I know where the dungeon of bloodshed is because I played this as a game in a previous life? I can''t.


    ¡¾Well, I don''t like it,¡¿David says,¡¾ever since we''ve entered this part of the forest, I haven''t heard a single bird or insect. It''s completely dead.¡¿


    I vaguely recall some dialogue the first time the hero in the game approaches a dungeon, I think they talk about all animals fleeing from the area. There is also a musical effect when the player comes near one, the happy overworld music stops and is replaced by a creepy silent rustling.


    I eagerly increase my pace, we''re definitely close!


    Then the ground falls away beneath my feet.


    ¡¾Rudy!¡¿


    The pain is immense, I cut open my legs as I fall into a spiked pitfall. My feet sink into something liquid and I realize it''s slime.


    ¡¾Agh! No!¡¿I grab the ledge and Theresa and David quickly pull me out.


    -


    ¡¾That''s most of my mana.¡¿Angela says, after she''s done healing my leg.


    ¡¾This is great!¡¿Xandra claps her hands.


    ¡¾Me getting hurt is great?¡¿


    ¡¾No, not that, don''t you see? This means you were right?¡¿


    ¡¾Huh?¡¿Theresa cocks her head.¡¾What do you mean?¡¿


    ¡¾Goblins can''t make traps like these. Unleeesss, they''re controlled by a dark lord!¡¿


    ¡¾So we''re heading in the right direction then.¡¿


    ¡¾Are you sure we''re prepared?¡¿David bites his lip.


    ¡¾We just gotta use our specialties, that''s how adventurers do it.¡¿Xandra explains.¡¾Dave, you''re a ranger, so you scout a safe path for us, without traps¡¿


    David nods solemnly.


    ¡¾Theresa and I will defend against goblin ambushes, and Angela can heal us.¡¿


    ¡¾But not too much.¡¿Angela sighs.¡¾Please do not get hurt as much as this in one go anymore, okay?¡¿


    ¡¾And Rudy...¡¿Xandra looks at me.¡¾... you can, uh, help carry the orc''s teeth once we get back.¡¿


    Like the ear of a goblin, the teeth of an orc serve as proof of having killed it.


    ¡¾Alright, Xandra, we''ll follow you.¡¿


    Just hearing that makes her jump up and down excitedly.


    <hr>


    Rogue Class


    Rogues are sneaky backstabbers and lock picks, it''s a role most suited for fighting intelligent monsters that hide in fortresses or dungeons.


    Adventurers registered as rogues have access to rogue equipment and subterfuge lessons at the guild.


    Many rogues are former thieves'' guild members, becoming an adventurer requires one to give up other affiliations however.


    Many legendary parties throughout history had a rogue member, aiding them with the infiltration into enemy territory.

 Passion

    "You girls have been very good the past week." Huckabee told the only two children in the bandit camp. "Very brave."


    It wasn''t a pleasant time, the culling, with the influx of rookie adventurers in the forest they had to give up many luxuries to stay undetected. But Letta and Cobaline persevered, they were even helping out the community by peeling carrots.


    "I want to be free." Letta said matter-of-factly in response to the compliment.


    Huckabee gave Denise an awkward look, she gave an awkward look back. As Cobaline''s mother she had been asked to take care of the orphan they''d saved from the goblins, but Letta herself saw it as captivity.


    Not unfairly either, there were places she could be brought to, but Harkness, their boss, feared that she would betray the existence and location of the bandit camp to the adventurer''s guild were she to enter civilized society again. So she was kept with the outlaws.


    "My mom too..." Letta said slowly, staring at her carrot, her voice devoid of hope.


    "Aha, yeah..." Huckabee scratched the back of his head. "So, uh... until that time, we do have a little reward for you two."


    "Really!?" Cobaline''s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, further exacerbating the contrast with the morose Letta.


    "Won''t you spoil them too much?" Denise smiled.


    "That''s my right as an uncle, isn''t it?" He grinned, digging two candies out of his pocket. "I had to pull a lot of strings to get these."


    "Woooow!" Cobaline eagerly grabbed one of the shiny objects and unwrapped the colorful wrapping paper. The inside wasn''t as colorful as the wrapper, but it wasn''t for looking at, she quickly popped it in her mouth. "Mm-mm." Such delicatessen were rare for her.


    Letta just held up her hand for him to drop the candy in. Before too long ago, she had near unlimited access to all the different kinds of sweets in the region, they were just some pleading with her parents away. She stared at the thing. "Mom used to give me candy..."


    Huckabee pursed his lips to suppress a sigh. Of course he felt sympathy for the girl, but her one-note personality did get grating after a while.


    He tried to think of something comforting to say, when a sharp whistle came from the other side of the camp. "Alarm!" Dee added to her own signal, to make it clearer.


    Huckabee tripped over his own feet hurrying away with his weapon.


    "Oh no..." Denise muttered. "Adventurers."


    Cobaline shrank back, but Letta''s eyes widened, she had never learned to fear adventurers.


    -


    "Where were you?" Dee stood with her hands on her hips amidst half a dozen corpses when Huckabee arrived.


    "I was... Denise..." He awkwardly pointed towards the far end of the camp as if there was something to blame there.


    "It''s a good thing the boss was here, or I would have died!" She sighed.


    Huckabee looked around to see Harkness half in shadow between the trees. She had always been adept at hiding, probably part of her training in a knight family. She said nothing.


    "Did you get hurt?" He asked Dee.


    "A bit." She showed a gash on her face. "Emotionally too."


    "Huh?"


    "Dee objected to the execution." Harkness spoke.


    "They were just kids." Dee sighed.


    "They surrendered, huh?" Huckabee brought up carefully. "But what can you do? Keep them in a cage until we''re all citizens?"


    "They were kids though." She repeated. Rookie adventurers were usually young boys and girls trying to make some pocket change helping their community, it hardly felt heroic mowing them down to keep their camp a secret.


    "Hey, are you all right?" He approached her, but she crossed her arms and turned away from him. "I know it sucks that they had to die, just because they wandered into our camp, but-"


    "No." Dee interrupted. "They were seeking us out."


    "What!?" The bandit boss jumped in and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Dee, what are you saying?"


    "They didn''t stumble in here unprepared, okay? They were in formation, they knew there was a base here, just not that there''d be a knight defending it."


    Huckabee was stunned. "How- Did Fyro really-"


    "No." Harkness answered. "If my cousin had betrayed us it would be royal soldiers. Some rogue or ranger must have scouted us out, and reported a bandit camp to the guild."


    Huckabee grabbed his hair and walked in a circle. "Is that it? Are we done for? I mean the more adventurers we fend off, the more they''ll send, right?"


    "I... must confer with the thieves'' guild." Harkness paced off with long steps, leaving Dee and Huckabee to stare at each other uncomfortably.


    <hr>


    ¡¾Hi-yah!¡¿Xandra is getting better with the tonfas, just now she single-handedly took care of a goblin that had jumped at us from a hole in the ground.


    ¡¾Huh?¡¿Dave turns around to see the dying goblin.


    ¡¾Aren''t you supposed to warn us about ambushes?¡¿I say indignantly.


    ¡¾Sorry, I... didn''t see it.¡¿


    ¡¾Well it''s dead, I got it.¡¿Xandra boasts, mimicking her fighting moves in the air.


    ¡¾My, my.¡¿Angela comes close to the creature.¡¾It looks like this one was wearing some sort of camouflage.¡¿


    When I look closer I can agree that the monster had a bunch of leaves packed against its body, making it stand out less on the forest floor.


    ¡¾If this is supposed to be the guard, it''s not very impressive,¡¿Theresa complains,¡¾I had hoped to get to do something myself.¡¿


    ¡¾We''ll get a good fight when we challenge the orc lord.¡¿I reassure her.¡¾Orcs are rank D.¡¿


    ¡¾From what I can tell, the base is beyond this hill. Look, smoke.¡¿David says.¡¾I think they''re snuggled right against the stone of the sea cliffs.¡¿


    ¡¾Snuggled?¡¿Xandra snickers.


    ¡¾Yes, snuggled against it, that way, they don''t have to worry about attackers coming from the east.¡¿David doesn''t seem to get what she finds so funny about his word use.


    ¡¾Then after we pass this hill we''ll be fighting possibly a hundred goblins, and an orc.¡¿I sum up.¡¾Is that... a good idea?¡¿


    ¡¾It is if we win.¡¿Theresa grins.


    ¡¾Yeah Rudy, come on, adventurers take risks you know.¡¿Xandra says.


    ¡¾Let''s get in proper formation at least.¡¿David moves back behind Theresa and Xandra, and readies his short bow. ¡¾Let''s get moving.¡¿


    -


    We approach the top of the hill and... this is bad! This is bad right?! It doesn''t make sense for mob characters to doing something heroic.


    We''ll be slain and our deaths will show the real heroes how important the dungeon is. Oh, what am I saying? Adventurers die every day, I bet we won''t even be mentioned!


    This is bad, this is really... there are barely more than a dozen goblins on the open field in front of the dungeon entrance.


    They have created a border from chopped down logs and a little fort from planks, but otherwise they had no strong defenses.


    I sigh in relief, ¡¾it''s not that bad then,¡¿as Xandra and Theresa race downhill to jump over the logs and charge at them.¡¾Raaaah!¡¿


    Right then Theresa is hit in the stomach by an arrow, she doubles over and drops her saber, but she stays on her feet.


    ¡¾What is-?¡¿David stops halfway the hill to fire at where the arrow came from, the wooden fort, but the goblins don''t flinch when he just misses them and lay another arrow on the longbow they''re holding horizontally like a ballista.


    Xandra and Theresa step back to retreat when more enemy fire rains around them. There''s another archer on the roof, and several of the ground goblins are pelting them with slings.


    The goblins are coming up the hill after them, two holding shields to block David''s arrows, the rest using spears and clubs.


    ¡¾Angela, come.¡¿I grab her by the hand,¡¾we need a healer there.¡¿


    ¡¾No!" She pulls me back and drags me behind the top of the hill, out of sight in the treeline.


    ¡¾What are you-¡¿


    ¡¾Not again..." Only now do I see the panicked look in her face.¡¾Not again, I can''t-¡¿


    ¡¾Calm down Angie! Breathe. Breathe." I hold her shoulders as she sinks to the ground.


    ¡¾Not again, I can''t take another time!¡¿


    Angela is in no state to fight. She''s been putting up a brave face, especially when we were killing them, but now that it seems like we''re losing, her time with the goblins has caught up with her.


    I dare a peek at the battlefield, it seems like Xandra and the others have been totally overrun. How is this possible? Goblins are rank F monsters!


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    -


    But I think I understand. Shields, spears, bows, this is equipment much stronger than the kind of goblin you''d chase off your farm. Under a dark lord that can make them weapons, goblins become an army.


    David is unconscious, but Xandra isn''t. Three goblins are sitting on her to stop her from getting up, these ones are different, more clothed.


    They wouldn''t, not here!


    I almost run after her to attack them myself. But they''re just tying her up with some sort of primitive rope.


    I can''t see how Theresa is, but with the shot to her stomach, she can''t be in very good condition.


    They''re taking them towards the cave.


    I have to think of a way to save them. But the more I think, the less possible it seems.


    I''m not strong enough to defeat them and we''re not rich enough to commission a rescue quest from the adventurer''s guild, but perhaps...


    ¡¾Angie.¡¿I say, she doesn''t seem to acknowledge me.¡¾Angie, stay here, I''m going to save them, Angie, can you hear me?¡¿


    She looks at me, I can see she''s crying.


    ¡¾I''m a rogue, I''m going to sneak in and help them sneak out. But when they''re back, they''re going to need healing. Can you stay here and wait for us?¡¿


    Angela wipes away her tears and nods, still not saying anything.


    ¡¾Well then... there I go.¡¿I start walking to move around the wooden log border.


    What am I thinking? I''m just a mob character, doing heroic things is definitely wrong! Oh well, it can''t be helped.


    <hr>


    Over the course of the past days, as the newborn grew up, the two tribes had established a certain routine.


    -


    First there were the cave goblins, led by the two elders, Scratch and Quiet. They coordinated their youngers, setting the schedule and chores every morning, Quiet also taking care of their evening meals.


    They had a main body of ten warriors, Second, Kicker, Biter, and Fat being the older ones among those, giving guidance to Fyro, Abel, Mac, George, Linus and Benjamin, who were arbitrarily considered adults now. Though Linus now had deformed legs, preventing him from doing much, and Benjamin still avoided doing anything. This group was occupied with defending the territory and keeping and eye on the visitors during the day, and some household chores and trap-setting in the evening.


    The newborn were still learning, although they were fully grown, they were still considered junior members.


    Haruto, the oldest, had clung to Barbara the most, and had claimed a spot in the foyer to practice his needlework.


    Yuto wanted to fight, and hung out with Kicker and Biter when they patrolled the perimeter. He had even procured a shield for himself, just like Abel always carried.


    Sota and Yuki showed promise in the different avenues of tinkering. Sota becoming Second''s apprentice and crafting and repairing tools with him, Yuki having learned about metals from George and helping him rebuild the forge.


    Hayato was an apprentice trap setter, mostly looking on as his elders furnished the pit traps, transported the slimes, and positioned the rope, and actively helping when it came to trapping animals.


    This left Haruki as the new Linus, not really an expert at any specific thing, but assigned to different roles as he was needed.


    -


    Then there were the river goblins, led by Strong, though Bread seemed to have some influence over him as an adviser. As it turned out, Bread and Strong were brothers of the same litter.


    Scratch had devised for Strong to be given access to the cave and its amenities, when the others weren''t. It was all part of Scratch''s ''grand strategy'', that his family just wasn''t smart enough to grasp, so why bother explaining.


    Coming in and out of the cave so often, Strong took over some speech patterns of the cave goblins and a wider vocabulary.


    Every night, the river goblins would go out, beyond the territory of the cave goblins, to scavenge for food. There were roughly a dozen of them left, and they had picked up the habit of packing themselves with leaves for camouflage. Second had encouraged this habit and dug certain hide-y holes for them to crawl in spending the day outside. If they kept perfectly still, they could be mistaken for mounds of compost.


    -


    Lastly, there were the women. Barbara and Brittany were still slaves of Drool''s progeny, but they were allowed a certain degree of freedom.


    Barbara stayed near the foyer, taking care of her children and keeping herself busy with small chores and homemaking, such as making candles and repairing clothes.


    She was happy for Linus to be so unshaken by his new disability, keeping his lust for life and energy, but she was disturbed by the regular appearances of Strong. He reminded her of everything she hated about goblins, the years of trauma and disgust. Strong was a gross little creature, gaunt and sickly with yellow teeth, he kept leering at her with a lecherous look on his face. The contrast brought out the relative charm of her captors, they looked hardly different from human children.


    Brittany was just released from her cell and free to roam around. Scratch had ingrained a sense of helplessness in her, and even now had had her feet shackled with twine to stop her from taking large steps. She was still in the habit of begging for her every bodily need. Scratch had told Barbara to only speak to the other woman in commands, but that was a rule she regularly broke. Barbara would comfort Brittany, telling her it would get easier at least once a day.


    Though both women were able to carry litters at the time, Scratch ruled against it, he wanted to more closely control the population numbers. But eventually, it''d be his call.


    -


    That dynamic was tested with the introduction of two new captives.


    The river goblins fought with a bestial ferocity when defending themselves, two had died in the battle with the latest adventuring party to attack them.


    In the classic goblin arithmetic, this was perfectly acceptable. The loss in numbers was far less than the gain from two new brood-mothers.


    The fellowship dragged the protesting captives inside to show off to Scratch and Strong.


    -


    "What are you doing? You''re not allowed in the cave, you know that."


    "Scratch." Second said in a grave tone. "They brought women."


    "I can see that. Look at that one, she''s bleeding over everything. Who''s gonna clean that up?"


    One of the river goblins looked expectingly at Strong, who was laying on the ground, gnawing on a bone. "Was us that got ''em."


    "Naw!" Yuto stormed past them, holding a blooded arrow. "I got her, me! It''s our catch!"


    "Kicker and Fyro grabbed the little one." Abel added. "Without them it would have just been more fighting until she died."


    "First!" The river goblin shouted. "Us fought first."


    The entrance of the cave erupted in shouting and pushing. The youngest of the women captured was still conscious and almost managed to roll away in the tumult, but Fyro sat down on her again.


    Scratch massaged his temples, then he turned to Strong. "Are you allowing this behavior?"


    Strong threw his bone to the ground. He wasn''t about to let his privileged position go away by threatening the peace, so he had to use his leadership role to stop the conflict.


    He stood up tall. "EVERYBODY QUIET!!" And his flock fell silent.


    "Very good Strong, good lungs. Yuto, you shut up too." Scratch said in a much softer tone, bringing the excitement in the room way down. "Now then..." He took a deep breath. "Nobody gives a crap about your daytime hookup! Get these bodies the hell out of my living room! You can keep them! Git!" He shooed them away with his hands while shouting.


    Yuto still protested, "But... I was the one-"


    "You want to fuck? Here''s Brittany." Scratch pointed at the girl in the corner of the room. "Go fuck her whenever you like."


    Brittany gave a slight yelp and pulled in her knees.


    Yuto looked at her uncomfortably, he knew her too well. And besides, it wasn''t about getting to breed, it was about the principle of the thing. "But don''t you think we deserve-"


    "You deserve nothing. We''re not taking in another bitch, no matter how hard you worked for it. That goes for all of you." He looked around the room, recent participants in the battle and workers from deeper in the tunnel had come in to watch him rant. "Put your energy in getting what you need, not what you ''deserve''. Never again talk to me about deserving anything, that''s toxic, it''ll make you angry when you need to be cunning, and it''ll make you complacent when you need to be ambitious. Somebody clean this up." He fell back onto the furs.


    -


    When Yuto left the cave to go back to the tower, he was briefly stopped by Second.


    "Don''t listen to Scratch too much, cause we need him, but we don''t need to BE him, you understand, right?"


    Yuto nodded hesitantly, he wasn''t sure if he did.


    "Good." Second responded. "Get back to the tower, tonight we''re having a music night."


    <hr>


    "Madam second-in-command?"


    A clergyman stuck his head in Marie''s small office. It was a closet with a desk in it, filled with trinkets to remind her of better times, adventuring. The biggest of these paraphenalia was an enormous magical shield adorning the entire back wall.


    "Father Raymond. What are you doing here?" The guild official took off her reading glasses to look at the graying man before her.


    "If I could just have another word on the will of Benesant..."


    "Father, you know that such matters belong with the guildmaster. You should see him, not me."


    "Ah, you see, I did, but... he referred me to you. So you see..."


    "Ugh." She put her elbows on her desk and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course he did. Very well."


    "Yes... it''s about the matter at the cliffs. Three divine revelations in just over a week, urging the forces of good to strike-"


    "Not this again. Father, we have a bounty on the orc lord, that''s all we can do. Unless the church is willing to contribute to the reward, we can''t-"


    "No. That''s the thing, my acolytes all have corresponding reports. Benesants asks for the head of a goblin."


    "Does she deny the dark lord is an orc?"


    "That... I do not know. But she''s very insistent on the death of a particular goblin."


    Marie leaned back. "As you can see, we''ve got a lot on our plate at the moment. It pains me greatly to dismiss the warnings of the goddess of light herself, but we simply cannot afford to deal with this threat at the moment."


    It happened more often. Annoyances that could be dealt with be rank E or F adventurers would multiply into rank D small disasters and eventually rank C catastrophes before anybody paid attention to them. Simply because there weren''t enough adventurers of the appropriate rank around during the first stages. Then again, it was hardly the end of the world, that''s what heroes were for.


    -


    "Marie!" Boris barged in, almost knocking over the hapless clergyman. "More adventurers dead downriver. It''s a free-for-all down there, total chaos."


    She buried her head in her hands.


    "Chaos and strife!" Father Raymond proclaimed. "Right where the goddess said it would be. It must be the work of that goblin, perhaps it''s the goblin king, or some other demon that-"


    "I don''t think so." Boris handed a piece of paper to the second-in-command. "Somebody is handing out bounties for adventurers. There was an eye-witness report from some casual culling participants."


    "Yes, I heard about that, did anything come of it?"


    "Somebody found the base this week. Dozens of bandits, some of them with battle magic. It''s basically occupied territory."


    "So the dark army is bandits? The world memories showed goblins."


    Boris shrugged. "So what do we do? A bigger bounty? Send a pigeon to the duke?"


    "No. This requires immediate action. The guild staff consists of adventurers, still. I''ll deal with this personally."


    "You mean you''re-"


    "I am." She stood up and lifted the large shiny shield from the wall. "I''m going exterminating."


    <hr>


    The humanoids gave Gubok a wide berth. They had learned to avoid him when he was agitated.


    "Kubar!" He shouted over the abandoned tents and long cold campfires. "Anybody! Come face me. Cowards!"


    The old camp had suddenly and abruptly been abandoned. Orcs were nomadic, but they didn''t leave behind their possessions when moving to a new location.


    "Cowards!" Gubok was angry at how angry he was. He had planned to personally kill his old battle brothers when he met them, now that it seemed they had died already he should be happy, or at least apathetic. "Serves you right." He grunted under his breath as he sank to the ground.


    Ragar, Kubar, the mystics, everybody he had ever known. Dead. Suddenly he felt very alone.


    "Food." "Food." The greenskins around him were overturning every stone and tent trying to find anything edible. He had greatly stimulated their multiplication, there were countless, it had gotten to the point that finding enough to feed everybody every day was becoming hard, and many were going hungry.


    He was a bit peckish himself. The mission towards the old camp hadn''t done much to help stave off starvation for his minions, but what was the point of having them if he couldn''t use them for his own purposes?


    "The first to get me a decent bite doesn''t get eaten." He announced, but none of them felt it applied to him and all ignored his demand. So he simply grabbed one by the throat.


    It struggled pathetically in his grip. He let it go. ''Noids were unappetizing.


    -


    In their endless scavenging the goblins threw around a card.


    "Hey, what''s that? Gimme that." He took it from them. It was one of those pictures the world generated of meaningful events and creatures. "A remembrance image?"


    He looked at it. As usual, the top was taking up by random squiggles, but underneath was a depiction of that very camp, months ago. The remembrance image showed the past.


    Gubok didn''t at all like what he saw. The weakest among the orcs, those tasked with maintaining the camp while the warriors were out, were being hacked apart by tall humanoids. Humans. They were using magic.


    "Filthy creatures!" Suddenly filled with energy he jumped to his feet. "We''re setting out! This what we''ll do, we kill these humans and get back Kubar''s shard. Then I''ll be the new champion of bloodshed."


    "Is that food?" One of the goblins asked him.


    "We''ll take their food too." He said dismissively. "After we wipe all of them out."


    He knew exactly where to find these humans.


    <hr>


    Vanguard Class


    The vanguard class is a support role, although at low levels vanguards can make efficient solo adventurers, high ranking vanguards rely on their teammates to do damage while they block it.


    Adventurers registered as vanguards have access to tower shields and other heavy armor from the guild shop and personal combat training.


    Vanguards block incoming attacks from enemies, and manage their position to prevent them from swarming the party, giving their teammates the freedom to fulfill their own roles uninterrupted.


    Vanguards are a popular class. Together with healers and duelists they form the classic trifecta of party roles, making them a staple in almost every party.

 Jurisprudence

    ¡¾¡¿


    After the unpleasantness with the new captives, Scratch and Mac went down to the deepest part of the cave to attend to the livestock.


    At the last moment, Mac asked Haruto, the eldest of the new litter, to join them and carry the candle.


    The group had become more proficient at candle making, it was a skill brought over by Barbara, the most important human member of their fellowship. Using animal fat and some string they were able to create stumpy light sources that could last for hours.


    The confines of a cave made a smokey hearth ill advised, and in the deepest recesses of the cave, even goblins couldn''t see much more than outlines. So light was procured using loads upon loads of candles, the dining room was lined with a thick residue of used-up candles. A failed earthenware cup was used to carry around a candle in less visited places, such as the bird pen.


    Haruto held the candle cupped in his hand as he followed his elders down the hallway, past the rooms and depleted mining pockets.


    When his light lit up the writing on the wall, he tried to read it out loud, as he had learned from his mother. "Scre-am was-"


    "Scream was here." Mac said. "He fought for us, even if we weren''t brothers."


    "Hmpf." Scratch grunted. "He was lucky to have our shelter."


    The cave was not very long, and they reached the end shortly.


    At the far end stood the wyrm shard, embedded in the wall. A creaking noise emanated from the object.


    "I-is it supposed to make that noise?" Mac asked nervously.


    "Not really, but it has all day." Scratch said nonchalantly. "If he has some problem with us, he can tell me tonight." He then turned his attention to the birds in the bird pen. "There you, go, didn''t starve without us, did you?" He mumbled as he threw a handful of seeds and crumbs into the simple pen.


    The multi-headed geese quickly crowded the stuff, pushing away the cockatrices that had limited orientation with their blinders on.


    Mac climbed over the enclosure and approached the feral creatures himself, his hand cupped with the feed.


    "I still don''t understand how you do that." Scratch said, watching the heads patiently wait their turn to eat out of the goblin''s hand.


    "You have to be sensitive to how they feel." Mac whispered while stroking one of the geese''s neck.


    "These things don''t feel anything but hatred." Scratch authoritatively stated as one of the creatures menacingly flapped its wings at Haruto, who was trying to follow his older brother''s example.


    -


    As it stood, Mac was the only one capable of being in the pen with the monsters without being attacked.


    He gave special attention to the cockatrices, who couldn''t see very well, when he discovered some unnatural materials lining their nest.


    "What''s this? It has writing on it."


    "Give it to me." Scratch held out his hand from the outside of the pen. "Ah, fuck, it''s more of those cards."


    "Cards? What cards?" Haruto wanted to know.


    "These creepy hidden camera cards." Scratch spread out the world memories as a fan. "They appear after you die."


    Mac had handed them six cards, most of them showing human adventurers.


    "Here. Try to read them." He told Haruto. "Since you''re so good at it."


    "Uhm, ''Albin, Dark S-'' uh. ''Sor-''"


    "It looks like it says sorcerer." Mac whispered, looking over both their shoulders.


    The card showed an ominous looking person, their face completely covered.


    "It''s the magic guy we killed." Scratch explained. "We used his tongue for the salve, and his face for the fake bounty. The others are his comrades."


    "''Briar, Rogue'', ''Alexander, Vanguard'',  ''Desmond, Bard.''" Haruto read the names of the cards one by one.


    "I guess those are their professions, what are these others?"


    "So, this one says... ''snare of an Evil God''" Haruto sounded out the words.


    On the card stood a chaotic image of the different humans fighting each other and the birds, while being surrounded by black mists.


    "And one of ours." Scratch held up the last card. It said "cunning goblin". The figure was shown setting a pit trap.


    "His name isn''t there, is that Scream?" Haruto asked.


    "No, that''s Dumb." Mac answered, shakily.


    "A lot of us have died over the weeks, huh?" Scratch reminisced.


    "Bwuuh-" Mac formed a whine in the back of his throat, and the tears welled up in his eyes.


    "You stop that." Scratch lightly slapped the side of his head. "Don''t you get how self-centered that sort of thing is? We all miss them, don''t try to get our comfort over something like this."


    Mac strained his face to suck his tears back in. "Okay."


    "Good." Scratch gave him a comforting hug around the shoulders with one arm. "Let''s go back and do our little performance."


    <hr>


    "Hold up, there''s more of you now."


    Scratch stood on top of the tower as his siblings carried their stolen and make-shift music instruments onto the structure.


    He was looking over the slums of refugees to see close to thirty wild goblins loitering about in the loincloths. The setting sun stretching their shadows.


    "Uhhm, so... it''s.... they fled the pig too." Haruki timidly brought up.


    "Pig? The orc. So you thought, ''let them walk in, no need to tell the boss''?"


    "It only happened just now... so..."


    Scratch waited for Haruki to finish his sentence, but he straightened his back to show he had nothing else to say.


    "Get these chumps documented you ditz." Scratch wagged his finger at him. "Who''s their leader? What do they want? How long will they stay? That sort of thing."


    -


    Eventually, the preparations were made for the planned concert, and Scratch took the time to explain what was going on to the guests. The lute was already in his hand.


    "Everyone!" He yelled out. "We have a few customs here. Every morning we exercise and meditate, and every so often we make music together in the evening. I believe it strengthens the sense of community, and it''s just fun to do. So we''ll be starting soon, you can clap along, try not to distract the musicians, okay?" There was no answer. "Good. Second, show us what you''ve got."


    Second started drumming the beat on the drum, made of horse skin over a hollow tree trunk. It was a song Scratch had taught them, but for the youngest it was the first time participating themselves.


    Mac started singing, but the rest followed sometime after, when Scratch started strumming his snare instrument.


    I''ve got my ticket for the long way ''round


    Two bottle whiskey for the way


    And I sure would like some sweet company


    And I''m leaving tomorrow. What''d you say?


    When I''m gone, when I''m gone


    You''re gonna miss me when I''m gone


    You''re gonna miss me by my hair


    You''re gonna miss me everywhere, oh-


    Most of the guests were at least a little perplexed by the performance. They had hardly ever come across music in their short lifespans.


    But something inherent to the mind made them sway with the melody and several started to softly sing along.


    <hr>


    After seeing my friends get captured and dragged into the cave, I sneak around the forest to find an unguarded spot to enter the camp.


    The goblins have a guard mind the entrance of the cave at all times, and a lookout on the podium on the other side of the camp. I find a place near the side of the cliff where I can climb over the wooden barrier without being noticed, but invading the structure built into the side of the cliff is impossible.


    I''d be seen, wouldn''t I?


    I click my tongue. I need a distraction. If a group of adventurers were to attack the front of the goblin camp, that''d be way too convenient!


    I sit in my hiding spot for hours, waiting for the sun to go down all the way, so I can sneak in while it''s dark.


    I wonder if Angelica is still waiting for me.


    She has to be, right?


    During all this time, the orc doesn''t come out of the cave once.


    -


    I wake up from the sound of music coming from the front of the camp.


    "A bard?" I crane my head but can''t really see what''s going on. It sounds like a bunch of kids singing along.


    The words seem faintly familiar to me, it goes like "when I''m gone, when I''m gooone", I think I''ve heard it before.


    I then notice that no goblin is standing in front of the door anymore.


    In the future, the cave entrance will be a wide hall shaped like shark''s mouth, but now it is covered up by a brick wall, apparently.


    I have to take a few deep breaths to gather my courage. I don''t know what I will encounter if I break into that cave, but Xandra is there, and I need to save her.


    Well, if you don''t enter the tiger''s lair, you can''t steal its cubs, or something like that. I make a run for the door.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    -


    The door is a flimsy wooden plank. There''s no lock that needs to be picked, and I throw it wide open.


    The inside is totally different from the blood god''s dungeon in the game! The space is much smaller, and made out of wood with furs on the ground.


    The place is empty, except for a goblin and a captured woman wearing rags.


    I''m confused over where I am, I only notice the goblin laying on the fur in front of me after he''s noticed me. He jumps up to scream but the woman behind him grabs him from behind and strangles him, the words get stuck in his throat.


    She looks at me expectingly as she holds down the monster.


    ¡¾I-I''m Rudy.¡¿I say eventually.¡¾I''m here to save you.¡¿


    ¡¾Brittany.¡¿She says.¡¾How many of you are there?¡¿


    ¡¾My friends got captured, did you see them come through here?¡¿


    Brittany sighs as she lets go of the goblin, it''s fainted.¡¾Scratch didn''t want them. He said he had enough ''bitches'' and let the river goblins have them.¡¿


    Eeeh!? River goblins? Is that some kind of special type?¡¾What are you saying?¡¿


    Brittany walks past me to peek out the door.¡¾This place belongs to a goblin named Scratch. Recently goblins from the river have come nest nearby.¡¿


    ¡¾What about the orc?¡¿


    She looks at me in confusion.¡¾There''s no orcs here. Please help me escape here, I''ve been locked in a room for days.¡¿


    ¡¾I have to save Xandra.¡¿


    ¡¾Look." She points at a podium at the other side of the camp.¡¾The cave goblins and the river goblins are having a celebration. That''s where the river goblins live, and where they''re keeping your friends, if they haven''t already killed them.¡¿


    I nod. All the goblins in the same place, around the prisoners. That''s no mission for a rogue.


    Is it time for me to give up on Xandra and the others?


    ¡¾Help me cut my rope.¡¿ Brittany asks.


    I use my dagger to cut the thin twine that binds her feet together. It''s a short rope, just long enough for her to make little steps, but not to run with.


    ¡¾We can come back later.¡¿She states.¡¾I also want to save Barbara. She''s been my friend, and I-¡¿


    A loud sound comes from somewhere behind us, shaking the entire building with a noise like a tree falling down.


    ¡¾What was that!?¡¿


    ¡¾It came from the mines.¡¿


    ¡¾There''s mines?¡¿


    Brittany storms out.¡¾We have to flee now, before Scratch and the others come to-¡¿


    Countless glittering eyes stare in our direction as the goblins approach the cave.


    ¡¾-investigate.¡¿


    ¡¾Run!¡¿I shout.


    And we run, sideways, away from the goblins and away from the cave.


    <hr>


    "Sorry big guy, I can''t fall asleep after everything that happened." Scratch stood over Cyclophan''s wyrm shard.


    The previous evening it had fallen through the wall of the cave into an underlying cavern.


    It hadn''t been too long a drop, and the floor below could be reached by any goblin lowering himself from the hole and letting himself fall. The cave itself was relatively wide, compared to the narrow tunnel that led to it, it was a roughly come shaped pocket of air in the earth, although more uneven, and the tunnel breached it right at on side.


    An underground river was briefly exposed to air within the deeper cave, the side its flow crossed through the corner of the space, creating a little waterside with a strong pull at the far side.


    -


    "We don''t have any of your blue grass, and I can''t sleep for you to give me a creepy nightmare, so I can''t discuss this development with you." Scratch sat down and dangled his little legs over the side of the hole. He had had to climb past the sleeping birds to get there, even though he knew Cyclophan could perceive anything that happened in his cave. At least, could until now.


    The wyrm shard started to creak. The sound came from the object turning almost imperceptably slow, and grinding against the stone.


    "What is it buddy? Little Timmy fell down the well?"


    The thing creaked again.


    "Let''s do it like this. One creak for yes, two for no. Is that acceptable?"


    The thing creaked.


    "Iiis that... unacceptable?"


    The thing creaked twice. Taking away any uncertainty over the first creak possibly being a coincidence.


    "Good, now then. Yes-or-no questions.... Are you damaged?"


    Two creaks.


    "Is your shard?"


    Two creaks.


    "Was this whole fiasco intentional?"


    One creak.


    "What the hell man you scared us! You''re just digging a deeper cave."


    Again, Cyclophan dutifully made the vessel creak once.


    "Well, we captured the runaways, if you care to hear about it. The intruder was a boy, just like one of the other ones, so we don''t have much use for him. Do you? I mean alive."


    Two creaks.


    "We could kill him. But frankly, he''s just a kid. I mean, not that I have anything against killing kids. Sometimes you''ve gotta whack a tod, no skin off my back. But if we don''t have to..."


    Cyclophan was silent.


    "I think this hole makes a nice bookend to your little dungeon here. We can keep the livestock there to fuel your magic, and away from our home."


    Two creaks.


    "Well I''m not capturing anything stronger."


    One creak.


    "I''m not! And we''re not keeping the strays either, they need to spread out over the region. We can''t sustain a dense population of goblins." He was referring to the refugees.


    Cyclophan creaked a single time once again.


    "We''re already turning into a pilgrimage destination. Some warlord is causing trouble in the forest and they''re all telling each other to come here, that''s what Haruto got from the new ones. You think I can placate that many alpha males, and prevent them from banding together and just take over the place?"


    Two creaks.


    Scratch stood up. "Good. I like this way of communicating, I think we should make this new standard."


    The shard made a loud and violent crackling noise at the suggestion.


    He put his hand to his ear. "I counted one. I''m glad you agree. Well, so long, I''ll decide what to do with the prisoners in a bit."


    <hr>


    It was early in the morning when the court was opened.


    "Order! Order!" Scratch pounded on the table in front of him, using a hammer usually used for smithing.


    During the current charade, he did not allow anybody to refer to it as anything other than a gavel.


    He was perched on the side of the tower, so he could look down on the people displayed below him.


    The recently captured housebreaker, and the attackers of the previous day were bound and kneeling on a patch of dead grass, the older woman had her stomach healed by Cyclophan''s creepy salve and was fully conscious, though a bit anemic.


    Second and Fyro stood on either side of the captives, on stacks of planks, elevating them above most others but not as high as Scratch''s platform.


    All around them stood the rest of the tribe and many of the refugees, they had been called over specifically to witness this.


    -


    "The court is in session." Scratch did not stop banging his gavel while talking. "I have announced before that within these borders, only I get to decide anyone''s fate. So I figured we might as well make it official, it''s called jurisprudence, and it''s what civilized people do."


    He pointed the blunt object at the young boy that had been captured.


    "You. What''s your name?"


    With an unsure expression, the boy looked around him, to see his fellow prisoners. He exchanged a sad look with the girl his age, and then turned to the judge. "My name is Rudy, and I''m-"


    "Rudy. Do you understand the accusations levelled against you?"


    The boy was dumbstruck.


    "What is this charade!?" The older male human called out. "We won''t be subject to your-"


    Scratch nodded to Kicker and Biter, who were standing behind the shackled prisoners. One pulled back his hair, and the other slit his throat. The man slumped to the floor.


    "You are held in contempt of court." Scratch commented casually.


    When the other humans were about to scream he banged his gavel once again. "And so will any of you if you don''t respect this procedure." He turned to Rudy again. "You are accused of killing goblins and stealing our property. To determine your culpability, that''s a real word don''t give me that look, you will be judged by trial. I now give word to the prosecution, my brother, Second."


    Second cleared his throat, straightened his back, and looked at the words he''d written on a piece of bark. Scratch had given him instructions on his function, but the exact case was determined by himself. "Scratch-"


    "You will refer to me as ''your honor''"


    "Err, your honor... Rudy has been captured fleeing our home, after having cut the shakles of Brittany, our captured woman, because he wanted to steal her away from us. We demand... that he is sent away with... all his stuff taken."


    "No." Scratch stated. "You demand that he is killed. You''re the prosecution, you''re supposed to go for the worst you can manage."


    "But you said that I could decide what-"


    "Order!" he banged his gavel again. "I give the word to the defense, Fyro, you have the floor."


    "Thank you." Fyro didn''t have any piece of bark or paper in front of him, he just started talking. "Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Off with their heads! They should be-"


    "Enough, enough!" Scratch banged the gavel for the so-manieth time that day. The crowd had erupted in a murmur. "Everybody quiet! You!" He pointed at Loud, the now disfugured goblin that was quite possibly the only one not making a sound. "Be silent or I shall hold you in contempt of court." Loud''s lower lip started to tremble.


    Scratch sighed. "Fyro, Second, switch roles."


    "Huh?"


    "Switch around, Second, you''re defense, Fyro, you''re prosecution."


    The two goblins stepped down from their platforms and walked to the other of the two identical objects.


    -


    "Prosecution." Scratch demanded. "Call your first witness."


    "Right.... uhhh." Fyro let his finger glide of the mass of people present. "Mom." He decided.


    "Who?"


    "Uh, Barbara."


    Barbara was brought forward to testify.


    "Go on then." Scratch demanded. "Ask her a question."


    "Mom. Where''s Brittany now?"


    "She''s been put back in the cell."


    "Why?"


    "Because she tried to escape when rudy released her."


    Fyro looked at Scratch and raised his shoulders, with a ''that''s it right?'' expression. "No more questions?"


    -


    Scratch banged the gavel. "Defense, your turn."


    Second looked at the words written down and then threw them over his shoulder. "Barbara, where was Brittany, when she was captured again?"


    "I mean, why are you asking me this? I wasn''t even there-"


    "Please answer the question."


    She sighed. "I don''t know, somewhere near the perimeter, I guess."


    "Aha! And isn''t Brittany allowed to walk around the premises freely, since a few days ago?"


    "That''s right."


    "Even so far as near the perimeter?"


    "That''s true."


    "Now then!" Second turned to the public, and then to Scratch. "Brittany has never escaped. What Rudy has done was merely... breaking something, the shackles around her feet, but he never did take away anything that belonged to us, ''cause she never left, so..."


    "Very interesting." Scratch said. "The court will take this into consideration. Prosecution, I believe you have a piece of evidence?"


    "We do?" Fyro perked up.


    "You do. The.. the thing. Come on now."


    -


    "Ah!" Fyro comprehended the situation when Haruki handed him the man-made pouch. "I call the owner of this bag as a witness."


    "He can''t." Somebody said. "He''s been held in contempt."


    "Oh, uh, another adventurer."


    "You''re allowed to call upon the defendant." Scratch advised.


    "Right. Rudy, is this your bag?"


    Rudy looked at Scratch with a fearful look.


    "You may speak now."


    "Uh, no, it''s not my bag."


    "Who''s bag is it?"


    "It belongs to Dave. It... belonged to him I guess."


    "Well there''s goblin ears inside!" Fyro dumped the contents of the item on the ground.


    The crowd began to angrily scream and sneer, prompting Scratch to pound his gavel again and threaten more contempt.


    "It''s... we kill goblins. That''s just..." Rudy looked for the right words, "the common sense of this world!"


    It was dead silent.


    "What did you say?" Second asked him.


    "Stenographer!" Scratch demanded.


    "Yes!" Linus uprighted himself, after having been following Scratch''s unreasonable demand of writing down everything that was said on a piece of slate. "Order order, contempt contempt..." He read through his record to the relevant part. "Its we kill goblins thats just the common sense of this world."


    "There you go, Second." Scratch said. "Do you need that repeated to you again?"


    "No... it''s fine." Second stepped back and lowered himself to the ground. "No more defense."


    "Okay, good. Then we can go straight to the sentencing." Scratch commented. "I''m getting sort of tired of this charade anyway. Fyro, how many ears in that bag?"


    "Eight, I think."


    "Okay. That''s four dead goblins, combined with the attack here that''s six. I hereby sentence you each to a fine of six goblin lives, to be repaid in any way you see fit."


    "H-how would we-" Rudy dared to ask.


    "Well, for the woman it''s straightforward." Scratch mused. "Anyway, court adjourned! Back to your lives everybody."


    <hr>


    Gubok was furious. The humans that smelled of soap were supposed to be weaker, but these ones were stronger than he had ever encountered.


    His goblins were being slaughtered, he himself had to flee. His future as champion of bloodshed was shattered.


    It was that woman, the one with the shiny shield. Her strength was great than his, an orc''s. He had clashed with her, and was thrown back, Ragar''s shield was shattered.


    Now he was hiding behind a warped tree, licking his wounds.


    "You." He pointed at a remaining goblin servant, one of two dozen in his entourage. "Get me something to eat." The others had to protect him, he didn''t have the strength to defend himself, he was bleeding out.


    "Food." The creature said, it was damn near dead of malnourishment itself. "Yeah food, Manshuu give me strength, I can''t get up." He groaned.


    "Food!" The goblin bit into his open wound. "Argh! You slime!" Normally he would kill a goblin when they became bold, but he couldn''t raise his arms from the pain.


    The others followed suit and climbed all over him to rip out his flesh with their teeth while he was still alive.


    Gubok never could reflect on his actions, his last moments were in too much pain to think about anything else.


    <hr>


    heroes


    Special people that stand out above the common folk are called heroes.


    Throughout history various people from different castes all over the four realm have appeared possessing "cheat-like" competence, meaning an amount of ability so overwhelming, it gives the sensation of cheating at a game to win more easily.


    Although most heroes become legendary adventurers, not all legendary adventurers were heroes. The world itself acknowledges the special status of a hero, the world memory showing a glittering border once it appears.


    Because of their special qualities all heroes, without exception, leave a significant mark on the world over the course of their lives. Many of the tastier foods we enjoy today were invented by heroes, heroes have driven all technological advancements we know of, and every demon king has required the selfless valor of a hero.


    It is the duty of the adventurers'' guild to recognize heroes, so they can be called upon in times of great crisis. Acolytes to Vreem, the god of knowledge, can call upon his power to determine the heroic status of an individual. This is called the destiny ritual, done with any adventurer that accomplishes great deeds.

 Captivity

    The rookie adventurers respectfully stepped out of the way of Marie and her cohorts.


    Not just because of her large stature, she and her colleagues had just torn through the collected forces of nearly a hundred goblins and chased off an orcen fighter a few hours ago.


    There was something unnatural and wrong about rank C adventurers in a rank F territory, things went too smooth, too easily, as in a dream.


    Marie had taken her high level guild members out to stop a developing crisis for the guild, an upstart orc warlord had been killing beginning adventurers. But when they confronted the issue, it had been resolved within a day.


    "Off you go. It''s the culling, isn''t it?" She told the youths. "Go kill those goblins."


    The lot mumbled respectfully and ran off to kill the orc''s scattered goblin minions.


    -


    "Kind of runty for an orc." Boris said as he kicked the creature''s remains, shooing away his dog, Snitch, from the carcass. The loyal dog had led them to what was now the corpse of their enemy.


    It was relatively small for an orc. Perhaps that explained why it wasn''t part of a larger war band, and how much cowardice it had shown running away when it found out it was outmatched.


    The orc''s own minions had betrayed it and devoured most of the flesh on its corpse when it had showed weakness. "Not really a rank D enemy at all, more like E. Would''ve made a proper boss for the area, I think." He declared.


    That was Boris, still thinking like a quartermaster. He was a decent enough ranger, training his own dogs to do the tracking for him, but his mind stayed in Eston when he was out adventuring. Eston and on the success of their branch. Having a boss would certainly draw a few more powerful adventurers to their little town, if only for a little while.


    "Yeah, what gives? Since when does guild administration do monster suppression? This is all backwards!" The petite Mildred complained. As a halfling she had a permanently child-like body, but she made up for it by acting twice as old and cranky as she really was. The mage trainer took a lot of offense for being dragged away from her busy schedule of not having anybody to train.


    "You know how many rookies died here since the culling began?" Marie sighed, resting on her shield, "fourty-eight."


    "W-what? No. That''s too much." Mildred stammered.


    "It''s true." Boris added. "I''ve seen the numbers. The cliff sides have become a deathtrap."


    "It came down to either ranking up the area, or coming down here ourselves," Marie explained, "and I don''t think the area itself has become more magical."


    Mildred just nodded. If it was for the sake of not sending dozens of rookies to their deaths, she could be bothered to take a hike to the forest.


    "You were half-right though." Marie continued. "It''s not the orc warlord causing all this trouble, we''re here for bandits."


    "Bandits?" Mildred was surprised. "Since when does Eston have bandits?"


    "Since very recently." The quartermaster added. "They''ve been offering money for dead adventurers, we think they might serve a neighboring baron."


    "We don''t think anything yet," the second-in-command said firmly, "we''re just going in and getting rid of them, theories will come later."


    "Hah!" Mildred laughed. "I''ve still got plenty of mana. Fire magic has the perfect spell for razing a camp to the ground, just point me in the right direction, I''ll rain down Rhada''s Barrage."


    "That''s the spirit." Boris stretched. "Let''s get this over with." And he went on to instruct his bloodhound.


    -


    From the reports of the camp''s location and Snitch''s tracking skills, they reached the place within the hour.


    It was a well hidden hide-away between two hills, the outlaws weren''t using fire or making loud noises to alert a passing wanderer of their location.


    The occasional armed guard patrolled the outer border of the collection of tents, and one was just leaning against a tree where Snitch started barking, and the guild staff burst through the foliage.


    The man had a naturally dopey face, and his dropped jaw at seeing the invaders made him look even dumber. Behind him a smattering of tents and a few lifeforms were visible, but no significant defenses.


    "Alarm! Adventurers!" He finally called over his shoulder when he recovered from the shock.


    "Well? What are you waiting for?" Marie asked Mildred.


    Mildred laughed maniacally as she indulged in her pyromania. "Rhada''s Barrage!" She held up her staff, concentric circles of light formed around her, as symptomatic of such magic, and a barrage of magical fire rained down on the camp, setting everything ablaze and creation mass panic.


    The bandit guard immediately recognized the difference in power, spun on his heels, and sprinted away.


    "Who do they have guarding their settlement?" Marie complained at his cowardice.


    "Looks like they didn''t have anybody stronger than the average person." Boris commented.


    -


    They tore through the camp, Marie, as the vanguard, barely had anything to do. None of the bandits were able to put up a fight.


    They killed five of their warriors with a few well-placed slashes of their weapons, while the majority of the population was mounting horses and fleeing the premises.


    One of the criminals was able to use magic, she seemed to be the leader and had a noble bearing. When the others fled she barked orders at them about where to take their horses, and stayed behind to cover their exit.


    The adventurers had planned to exterminate the bandits, but when the party was about to give chase she cast Rhada''s Breath, a fan of fire finally requiring Marie to use her shield for something.


    Not that she had much power to speak off, after the fire breath it was done with her magic and Boris was able to restrain her with a thrown bola, one of those ropes with weights on either side.


    "Darn it all." Mildred groaned. "Now the others got away, and I''m out of magic."


    "I think it''s fine. I''ve got a feeling you were the leader, weren''t you, little miss?" Marie picked up the captured bandit. "What''s your name?"


    The woman refused to speak. So Marie threw her against the ground, using her full weight, and slamming all the air out of her lungs.


    "Better tell her your name." Mildred giggled as the captive gasped for air. "Marie is no diplomat, she''ll kill you for real."


    "Har- Lydia, Lydia is my name." The woman gasped.


    "How long have you been in this place? Lydia Lydia?" Marie demanded to know.


    "... eight years."


    "Poppycock." Mildred laughed. "Slam her again!"


    Snitch growled.


    "Have you looked around this place?" Boris stood a few steps away from the rest. "It''s been lived in. The ground has been completely worn out by feet, and look, they were even keeping animals."


    "That''s ridiculous." Mildred stated. "I''ve been with the guild for the past decade and we never had bandits in Eston before."


    Marie held the captive in a vice grip. "You better talk girly. Maybe we''ll let you live."


    Lydia, by now very much past the age of a ''girly'', choked up the words. "Agh! Stop! We''re smugglers, not robbers, we smuggle."


    "Smuggle?" Boris became interested. "To the shipyards? Then you have a citizen contact. Who is it? Are you working with the thieves'' guild?"


    As soon as Marie relaxed her grip on the bandit, she slipped out of it like a greasy eel, and acrobatically launched herself over the vanguard''s shoulders with her arms.


    She had to have had more mana left than she had let on, because the weapon on Marie''s back had become scalding hot when she reached for it.


    "No! Do something!" The second-in-command of the Eston guild branch commanded.


    "I''m out of mana!" The magic teacher responded.


    The quarter master readied his crossbow, but the bandit had continued her acrobatic movements until she jumped against the trunk of a tree and into the foliage.


    Snitch ran after her, barking loudly.


    "A rogue''s skill set." Boris stated. "We''ll never catch up to her." Then he whistled for his dog to give up chase and come back.


    "What is she? A former adventurer?"


    "She sounded like a noble to me." Marie groaned, rubbing her burned palm. "Just from the way she talked. She must have been a disgraced knight, or even a baroness, of some sort."


    "A stealth knight." Mildred snapped her fingers. "If I''d known beforehand..."


    "Mildred. Is one night enough to get back your mana?" Marie wanted to know.


    "Uh, sure?"


    "Then we''ll stay here. Boris, set up a camp for us, one that''s not burned. We''ll track those horses tomorrow, either we exterminate them, or they''ve fled the country, either way, we make sure they don''t come back."


    "And it''s another day you don''t have to do the guildmaster''s work for him." Boris added.


    She grumbled.


    <hr>


    I am surrounded by goblins with sharp weapons.


    They took away my throwing knives and dagger, as well as my coat.


    Without my weapons I can''t fight this many of them.


    Without my coat I''m slightly chilly.


    -


    After the goblins captured us, they held a big fake trial where the goblin boss assigned us to work for him.


    Now we''re in the forest, not very far from their nest, and we''re being forced to make planks.


    Xandra and I are given the simple tools, a block shaped object for shaving off planks, and a bunch of tar on a piece of animal skin.


    The goblins called Yuki and Haruki are using saws and small axes to turn the initial logs into wooden shapes, and then we''re supposed to polish them into usable materials.


    Furthermore, we''re guarded by three more goblins with spears that will prod us if we slack off.


    What is this? Some sort of fantasy black company? If I work more than ten hours, I''m entitled to a 1-hour break you know!


    [Psst, Rudy.] Xandra leans over to me. [We can escape, Martial Artists are trained to fight without weapons.]


    What are you talking about? You haven''t been trained for anything! We just went through an aptitude test and were arbitrarily assigned these roles!


    [You couldn''t even fight them without your weapons.] I hiss back. [We''ve got to wait it out, when they slip up we can-]


    [You know I can hear everything you''re saying.] One of the guard goblins sticks his head between ours. I almost slap him.


    [This would go faster if we killed you and did it ourselves.] Another guard says, while picking his nose. [So you better, like, be grateful and work hard and stuff.]


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    [Abel, Benjamin, you''re distracting them.] The third goblin guard tells them off while standing with his back straight. [Haruki and Yuki are younger than you, and they''re working hard, you do the same.]


    The sawing goblins proceed with smug looks on their faces while Abel, who had poked his head in with us, rolls his eyes and stands back. [Better do what Fyro says, he''s the boss, isn''t he?]


    [I''m not.] Fyro lets himself get goaded into an argument. [But I am right, so you still need to do it, so there.]


    I give Xandra a meaningful look, we''ll escape when the time is right. It doesn''t seem like the goblins will just kill whenever.


    I''m reminded of David''s death. It had happened so quickly. I couldn''t tell if the boss goblin had really been offended by his shouting or if he had ordered him dead because he thought it''d be funny. It doesn''t make a difference I suppose.


    -


    That evening we''re escorted back to the goblin nest, to eat.


    Right now I''m beginning to understand how their society works.


    There are castes of goblins.


    The lowest one is the one shown on the extermination requests of the guild posters. They''re skinny and bald, with a pot belly and losing teeth.


    Then there''s what Fyro calls [the family]. These are more important goblins that live in the wooden box in the cave, with the furs.


    All the goblins at the sawing place belong to the family. They''re healthier and cleaner looking. They almost look like kids just a little older than us, although their skin is still a filthy green.


    At the top stands Scratch. He was the one-eyed goblin that had set up the fake court and sentenced us to slave labour.


    [You know, Scratch gave us everything.] Haruki says.


    [Nnnooo. Not everything.] Fyro contradicts him.


    But Haruki is steadfast. [Before Scratch, the family was just like the other tribes, Quiet told me.]


    [Well, yeah, but that''s Quiet-] Fyro responds, but he''s less sure now.


    By now I''m not seeing much patterns in goblin names. When I heard the Japanese names I had thought somebody was playing a cruel prank by having the goblins of this world be associated with my countrymen, but there were other names too, both western names and nickname-like words. I decide not to question it as I am given a carved wooden bowl with thin mushroom soup.


    Up till now the members of the family have been fairly polite. I don''t want them to remember they hate us.


    [Why are your names so stupid and inconsistent!?] Xandra blurts out while looking disgusted at her own stone bowl of mushroom soup.


    The goblins blink a few times.


    [The mother chooses the name.] Yuki says. [That''s how it''s always been.]


    It most definitely hasn''t, but I don''t want to contest it, and I look at Xandra intently to say that she shouldn''t either.


    -


    When the night falls Xandra and I are being made to sleep underneath the planks and debris around their little platform.


    It''s where goblins that don''t belong to the family live.


    We still haven''t seen Theresa since the trial, where David was killed. I look over at the cave entrance, she''s being kept somewhere.


    Benjamin stands watch over us, but it seems like he''s fallen asleep on his feet, but otherwise no family goblin is present.


    When I take a peek at Xandra I see that she''s not asleep, she''s lying curled up away from the fodder goblins, but her eyes are wide open.


    It''s a scary situation. But Theresa probably has it worse, she had to pay them back six goblins. It''s probably an excuse for the goblins to do what they always do, I don''t want to think about it.


    -


    It''s almost morning now and I still haven''t sleep, although Xandra has dozed off slightly.


    In the middle of the night we''re suddenly shocked wide awake by a boy''s voice.


    [Heya sleepyheads! I''m not disturbing you, am I?]


    By straining my eyes I can see the goblin with the eye patch coming close and leaning into Benjamin.


    Scratch. The boss.


    If I jump at him now I can probably grasp his neck with my hands, maybe even kill him before I''m killed myself. Just imagining it makes me form fists with my hands.


    Scratch continues to talk, and I realize now that he''s talking to us. [I was just reminded of the fact that I wanted to give you some clarity on the what''s-what, the who''s-who and our positions as they are now, as such.] In the dark I can''t make out his face, but he''s emoting a lot with his arms. [So the thing is, I could see you snuff one of the boys and hit the highway. It wouldn''t be hard I don''t think. But still, we wouldn''t want you to come back with your friends for some kind of rescue operation, would we?]


    I don''t understand at all what he''s saying. He''s telling us we can just escape whenever we want?


    As Scratch looks at me expectingly, he sees my confusion and adds to his story. [The girl, Theresa. What I''m saying is you leave, we''ve gotta remove all incentives for you to care about coming back, right?] He makes a throat slitting gesture with his finger.


    [If you harm any of my friends, you''ll make me your mortal enemy!] Xandra exclaims, even louder. [I''ll do anything in my power to kill you! So don''t ev-]


    [Ah, no change then.] Scratch clasps his hands. [That was all I wanted to tell you. By the way, get some sleep, you two look like death.] And he turns around to leave.


    Benjamin looks between the two of us, and then almost immediately falls asleep again.


    -


    The next morning we have to sit through the family doing morning exercise.


    They run, do push ups, and practice fighting with each other. It looks like a little P.E. class.


    Around this time too, the lesser goblins kind of leak into the forest one by one, they just wander off and away from the nest.


    While all of this is happening, nobody is watching us.


    I wander a whole lot closer to the cave, where the ground is paved with crude slate slabs. A bunch of stone age tools and collapsed huts surround a well, from which I gather water to wash the smell of my body and to drink. There''s two sources of water in the well, one deep, from which muddy water can be retrieved with a bucket, and one shallow, which has cleaner water. I think the second may be the filtered version of the first. There''s plenty of magic like that in this world.


    We could run away. Scratch''s threat echoes through my head. Adventurers died all the time, Theresa got captured by goblins, so many women did. Isn''t it throwing our life after hers to stay here?


    -


    After a while the goblins are done exercising, and the work of the day begins. This time, Xandra and I have to help repair some mud huts.


    It seems like only the family works on things the family uses. The other goblins just live near them, around the large platform.


    It''s not that hard to do, but there''s a lot that needs to be done for such a primitive building.


    I see another captured woman here. At first I think it must be Brittany or Theresa, but it''s a third one.


    While we and some goblins are packing dry earth against some woven twig scaffold, she''s sitting in the sun and shaping some bowls and plates from wet clay.


    [You two keep that upright.] A goblin tells us. There are so many, and they''re so similar, it almost isn''t worth it remembering their names. I think this one is called George. [We''re going to let it dry like this.]


    [It needs supports.] Says another one called Sota. Japanese names are so much easier to remember.


    [Ugh! Adventurers aren''t supposed rub themselves in the mud!] Xandra complains.


    [No. They just die.] I whisper at her angrily. [So don''t get them angry.]


    But she ignores me. [Hey, why doesn''t she have to work? Make her hold up this wall! She''s your prisoner too, right?] She points at the other woman.


    [No.] Says Sota.


    [Yes.] Says George.


    They look at each other.


    [Barbara is working hard. She''s made all of us, and now she''s sewing clothes.] George explains to us. [And Scratch said that if you complain, we should hit you with this.] He holds up a firm wooden branch with some thorny plant wrapped around it. [That''s why I''m holding it.]


    [Mom is part of the family!] Sota objects.


    George doesn''t argue back, he goes on to collect supports for the mud wall.


    What wey''re building is a smithing tent. It''s being erected around a make-shift clay furnace. Comparing it to a real blacksmith''s furnace it''s like a badly made campfire, basically just a tall funner in which they throw their metal and charcoal. But for goblins it''s advanced technology.


    Once the walls are up we have to make a roof out of thin planks and untrimmed tree branches. A hole is left at the top for smoke to escape through.


    When we''re finishing up the roof George starts using the furnace. At first he''s just burning bits of bark, and blowing air into the holes at the bottom with a leaf fan, but once it''s a fire the charcoal goes in.


    [Hey!] Xandra coughs violently from the smoke coming into her lungs. [Stop that! We''re on top of the chimney right now!]


    George looks around for his beating stick, and Sota waves it at us.


    [Stop it, Xandra.] I tell her. [We''re not heroes, okay? We have to keep our heads low and- Hey!] I almost fall off as I see the goblin drop my throwing knives in the fire. [Hey! You can''t do that, those are mine!]


    Xandra looks at me like I''m stupid.


    Those knives may have been cheap, but they were mine, dammit!


    -


    Multiple of these huts are being build around the well.


    We''re making shelter for the blacksmithing workplace, but there''s also a kitchen, some sort of basin where they keep water just for cleaning clothes, a piece of cloth above a metal bucket with which they catch evaporated water to drink, and a little roof for wood to dry under.


    With how quickly they''re building it up it seems like they could have these things a lot earlier, even without our help.


    I bring it up when the blacksmith''s hut is done. Goblins are retrieving ore and stone debris in from the cave, which tells me they''re definitely mining in there, and Xandra and I are made to wait on a sitting spot near the unlit campfire. [Did these buildings get torn down before?] I ask Haruki, the goblin we saw helping making planks, he''s carrying a piece of slate rock that''s too big for him around.


    [Uh-hum.] He nods, trying to wield the things. [Before I was born.]


    [How old are you?] Xandra groans at me conversing with the monsters.


    Haruki puts the rock down where he wants to have it, then proudly poses with his hands on his hips. [I''m eight!]


    Eight? He looks like he''s larger than us.


    [That''s eight days, not years.] Scratch comes up to him and ruffles his hair. [We''re just getting started in this place.]


    The words sound scary when he says them like that.


    [Why did you tear down your buildings and then rebuild them?] I ask out of honest curiosity.


    He looks a bit surprised at my question. [Adventurers did.]


    [Why?]


    He shrugs. [They must have thought it was the common sense thing to do.]


    For some reason he''s really taken offense at my defense during his fake trial. Isn''t it normal to do what''s normal?


    -


    Before the sun goes under, we dress up the walls and floor of the blacksmith''s hut with stone and clay bricks, which make the interior actually kinda look like a real building.


    The other huts have the planks we''ve helped make incorporated. But I guess in a place where fire is used they decided against it.


    The goblins do have access to bricks and carved wooden materials. But to them these things are hard to get by, so they mostly use mud. The valuable materials are there for decoration, or for places where they''re really necessary.


    I notice Scratch himself working alongside the other members of the family, even though I thought he is the leader. I wonder if they''re in that much of a rush to get this done, or if this sort of thing is just common sense for a goblin.


    At the end of the working day he comes up to us. [Good work you two. To be honest, I had expected you to be a lot more obstructionist. Don''t take that as an encouragement.]


    [When will we get to see Theresa?] Xandra demands to know.


    [In due time, dearie.] He tries to touch her chin, but she leans back. [For now I want to invite you to have supper with the rest of us, inside. I think it''s starting to rain.]


    [Go inside, with you?]


    [Well, it''s not like you have much choice, do you?]


    -


    Inside the cave it''s warm and cozy. There''s a little fire burning, and soft furs are spread out over the wooden floor. I think I can see the trapdoor that leads to the tunnels down below.


    Because of my future knowledge, I know that five years in the future this will be an orc dungeon. If I remember correctly, the orcs did have goblin slaves, perhaps the family will be among those.


    I had never dreamed that it was actually goblins that had dug the tunnels and created most of the dungeon as it is seen in the game. Goblins are always described as simple creatures, the lowest of the low, total fodder.


    Xandra and I are both given a stone plate with actual meat and vegetables, which we keep on our laps. The goblin next to me hands me a knife, and I can tell it''s my own throwing knife reforged.


    The only other human here is the one we saw earlier, Barbara. Scratch whispers something in her ear and she comes to sit next to us.


    A few goblins stare at us, but most are busy with their own food and talking amongst themselves.


    [They don''t trust Brittany anymore. Because of you.] She tells me.


    [Who is that?] Xandra demands to know.


    [Brittany and I were here before you lot.] Barbara explains. [Your brother convinced her to attack one of my boys and try to escape.]


    [We''re NOT brother and sister.] Xandra pouts.


    [Your boys? What do you mean?] I talk over her.


    Barbara blushes slightly embarrassed. [I''m the mother here. There''s Fyro, my eldest, Abel, George, Mac, Linus, he''s the one with the bad legs, Benjamin, Haruto, Yuto, Sota, Yuki, Haruto, and Haruki. The others were here before us.]


    [You alone are being used? What about Brittany?] Then I add in a softer tone. [What about Theresa?]


    [Brittany was still earning their trust. Your friend Theresa Scratch has been assigned to the visitor tribe to use.]


    [Why does she ne-]


    I''m interrupted by Xandra, who is annoyed at being sidelined. [We''ll just save them! They''re down that hatch right? Let''s storm down right now and break them out!]


    [More mushroom?] Fyro, who sits next to her says, I''m pretty sure to remind her of his existence and that he can hear her talk.


    [No thanks, I''ve got enough.] She answers obliviously polite.


    [These goblins are my family.] Barbara objects. [Scratch is a man of his word. I guarantee that after you work off your debt, you and your friend will be set free.]


    [And when is that?] I challenge.


    [... Soon enough.]


    -


    Soon enough doesn''t seem to be very soon.


    We''re with the goblins half a week now, and we''re still not made clear how many planks and mud huts equal one goblin life.


    After a while the buildings are more or less established, only the repairs and fixes for the quickly and shoddily thrown together shelter for what Barbara called the ''visitors'', remains within the border.


    The goblins are taking us out to farther out their territory a bit more.


    Yuto the fighting goblin, and Hayato the trap setter will take us out to inspect and reset traps both for adventurers and for wildlife.


    I always try to sabotage traps for adventurers, it''s the only moral thing to do, and eventually I''m not asked to come along for those anymore.


    Xandra and I get split up more often, probably to stop us from coordinating any plans. But I do think she''s not as insistent on a daring escape that could kill us anymore. We''ve both decided to wait for the right moment.


    We''re now also participating in the morning ritual.


    It''s a bit like training for martial artists, Xandra''s class. First there''s the running and jumping, physical exercise, after that, Scratch instructs the group on grappling and striking moves, which we then practice on each other.


    I think that last thing has helped Xandra move away from her violent breakout plan. She has a better understanding of her own ability compared to the others. These goblins are better fed and trained than the visitors, and the ones we''ve been slaying so far. She keeps losing to Yuto, who is one of the best fighters in the family.


    Scratch doesn''t consider the training done until after meditation, however. Every morning, after we''ve gotten all excited from fighting each other, he makes us sit down and do breathing exercises. He''s trying to train the others into controlling their emotions, saying things like [feel them coming through you, and passing over you, leaving you unchanged.] I don''t think they really pay attention to that part, I''ve seen them open their eyes and even poke each other during meditation. The one that really needs it is Scratch himself.


    And today he is shaken up from his meditation by the sudden noise of horse hooves. It almost seems physically painful for the goblin boss to be thrown out of his calming trance by the sudden intruder.


    Xandra and I jump up. We expect it to be a mounted adventurer, a paladin perhaps. But the man seems dismounts and approaches as an ally.


    I didn''t know the goblins had human allies, what''s going on?


    <hr>


    Slavery


    Although the owning of slaves is legal in most of the known world, how one becomes a slave differs between the four realms of man.


    In Reddington, slaves are captured bandits whose lives have been spared, or otherwise taken across the border from Blurich or the Yellow Wastes, having been made slaves there.


    In Blurich, demihumans are captured in the wild and made slaves, and any children of a slave is a slave also.


    In the Yellow Wastes, both humans and demihumans can become slaves if their tribe is defeated by a more powerful society.


    Only in Grienice is all slavery outlawed. The Grienice government has declared it a refuge for escaped slaves to find freedom, the current cause of the tensions with Blurich.


    Outside Grienice slaves can become adventurers, and be given a class status and rank. Richer adventurers will sometimes buy slaves to form a party with, allowing them to keep all rewards for themselves.


    While it''s true that in the past there have been heroes that have opposed the practice of slavery, other heroes have made use of it extensively. The stance on the issue between different individuals and institutions varies based on what heroes lay at the foundation of their culture.

 Endgame

    After the trial the young kids were housed between the makeshift huts of the visitors, while the adult was brought down to a cell.


    Strong tugged on Scratch''s tunic to bring up the subject of ownership of the breeding age woman, but he couldn''t quite come up with the right words.


    "We''re keeping her downstairs for safekeeping." Scratch waved his hand dismissively. "Your boys can come down whenever, but she won''t come up."


    This was more than acceptable to Strong. The hosts were willing to take up the task of security for the prisoner, while the guests still reaped the benefits.


    Yuto saw it this way too. That day he approached Scratch in the forest while they were gathering twigs for the fire.


    "Why can''t Strong and his guys keep the girl themselves?"


    Scratch didn''t look up. "Two reasons. First off, I want to remind Britt of how much worse it can get for her, secondly, the group is less likely to run off if they''re leaving someone behind. It''s called leverage."


    Yuto wasn''t happy about it. "They just come here and they get whatever they want."


    Scratch dumped his own gathered wood in Yuto''s arms. "Maybe they do, so what? We do whatever benefits us, and we don''t give a damn what happens to anybody else, good or bad, you hear me?"


    The tone was stricter this time, and Yuto cast down his eyes. "I hear you."


    "Good. You take this home and start the rebuilding thing, I''m going to check something."


    -


    Since the amount of raids had slowed down the goblins had hatched a rebuilding effort. This isolated incident didn''t dissuade them of that plan.


    The square around the well was littered with torn-down buildings from before the culling had begun in full. They relocated the rubble and started over from the beginning, constructing round mud huts with thatch roofing to replace the ones lost before.


    They even fired some more bricks to use in the blacksmithing hut.


    When they first had started building mud huts a few months earlier Scratch had considered them improvised shelter, but next to the temporary shelter of the visitors the huts looked tall and civilized.


    -


    What Scratch had wanted to check was related to one of Strong''s followers.


    Bread had been severely hurt in an impromptu execution of street justice by his own tribe, but had been saved by the magical salve Cyclophan had provided. It had left him disfigured, mummified by wraps of flesh where the stuff had been applied.


    "Boys, I''m borrowing the elephant man for a bit." Scratch announced, strolling casually into the crowd of strangers.


    They didn''t know what he meant but his gaze was on Bread. He waved a thing piece of hard bread at him. "Here''s a bribe for your time, walk with me."


    So they walked together, Bread eagerly nibbling on the gift while Scratch breathed in the fresh air.


    "You''ve been hunting in the forest, Bread? Have you been going far out?"


    Bread looked at him, parsed the sentence for a moment and then shook his head.


    "I didn''t think so, so we''re doing a little experiment, this might take awhile."


    Scratch''s presence put Bread on edge. To him Scratch was a peculiar and unpredictable creature. Strong could be mean and unfair, but you could always be sure of what he wanted, you could never know when Scratch would be hit by a sudden fancy and do something completely ridiculous, like the little display with the human prisoners. It was scary.


    They walked for half a day, during which Scratch would talk out loud, but mostly to himself. "I don''t think we''ll ever build fully brick houses, but maybe with some rock debris we can create a strong foundation for a wall." "What do you think? A small garden in the yard, or a full farming field?" "It doesn''t have to be made to last, we''ll get some real housing later."


    Most words he used were meaningless to Bread, so he stayed silent and occasionally nodded. During this time they walked out of the forest and followed a small river downstream.


    At one point, Bread suddenly dropped to his knees.


    "Look at that." Scratch commented. "It''s starting. Still, I think it''s a reasonable distance."


    Bread started breathing loudly, the skin on his body felt like it was writhing around and pulling itself loose from his body, the pain was unbearable.


    Scratch brought his face up close to the pulsating skin. The flesh that had been added by Cyclophan''s formula was moving on its own, and blood started seeping out of it.


    "AAAAAH!" Bread screamed at the top of his lungs.


    "Okay, okay, that''s enough." Scratch pulled him under his armpit. "Let''s see if going back makes it stop."


    It did. Although Bread was no longer being tormented by writhing flesh, he was now covered in drying blood.


    During their way back, neither spoke.


    When they arrived back at the cave, nobody asked questions.


    <hr>


    The very same day these events occurred Scratch was visited by Cyclophan again in his dreams.


    Before going to bed he had went to intimidate the woman in the cell, who''s name was Theresa and who had been used by goblins before. With him he had Mac and Quiet who he had hoped could become more assertive and dominant with practice, but who ended up stuttering and blushing in the presence of a strange woman.


    Brittany had been stationed outside the door to hear their exchange, she was perfectly aware of what he was attempting to communicate, but she knew better than challenge him on it.


    The sheer amount of things to juggle had exhausted Scratch and he had fallen asleep on the dining room table, leaving Quiet to make tie up the ends in the household before everybody else could go to sleep. Things such as the allocation of rooms, hanging washed furs out to dry and feeding the birds. The issue of the gaping hole behind the bird nest where the dungeon core had fallen down was ignored for now. The others simply threw a blanket of their snoozing leader''s back and left him alone to dream.


    -


    So you''ve returned. The small viper raised its head as high as possible within Scratch''s dreamscape.


    "You know I hate it when you get into my nightmares."


    That''s of no concern to me. I shall address you however conveniences me.


    The one-eyed goblin sighed and reclined back. "You''re in a gloating mood, I get it."


    I knew you had your suspicions when you declined to use the medicine for yourself. Cyclophan chuckled. When you lie about your reasons, I can see you.


    "That wasn''t very neighborly of you."


    Am I the god of neighbors? No. I am the god of deception, and I have deceived you for my benefit, as I should have since the start.


    "I suppose to you didn''t because you were ashamed to think you had to, when others have orcs tripping over themselves just to worship them."


    Don''t presume to know my mind, goblin. I have outwitted you, take it as a sign to begin serving me as a proper champion.


    "Well, congratulations, well done, really." Scratch rolled on his side to take a look at the snake avatar of the evil god. "You know, I knew there had to be a catch from the start."


    Cyclophan exhaled sharply from his nose slits.


    "You''re stingy with your magic, and it was clear you were looking for a way to increase your leverage. So you traded some of it for a tighter leash. It was a fair exchange, and we didn''t have much choice anyway. Without your healing we would have died out."


    You''re telling me you walked into my trap on purpose?


    "You''re a living lie detector, right? Read my lips. We. Have. Nothing." Scratch spoke in staccato to further emphasize his words. "Cyclophan is our only asset. Without you, we''d end up like the other tribes, their entire population replaced in less than a month. You don''t need a leash Cyclophan, we''ve got nowhere to go."


    I suppose that''s you telling me not to trick you again in the future.


    "... You said you wanted stronger beasts in the basement. The raiding has let up, we can dedicate our time to a project like that."


    -


    The god''s viper body unnaturally narrowed its eyes.


    Scratch was a natural schemer, but he didn''t have the perspective and intellect of a god. He had no understanding of the larger implications of his plans.


    The raiding has let up?! Do you know what you''re saying?


    Scratch sat up straight. "No, please tell me what I''m saying."


    Your little misdirection with the fake bounties has scared off all the weak humans. This is seen as a highly dangerous area by adventurers.


    "Is that what did it? Sheesh. Well, no need to thank me, I-"


    You idiot! More dangerous areas attract more dangerous adventurers!


    "That''s- They''d be content after wiping out the bandits... right?" He didn''t sound too sure of his own justification. "I mean. They can''t know it was us."


    They can''t? What made you so sure of that? There''s so much magic in the world, gods to consult... what if they simply talk to the bandits after imprisoning them!?


    "Okay, well... maybe I didn''t consider all factors..."


    Argh! You don''t even know what the factors are! The guild staff of Eston is on its way to this forest to ''fix'' the bounty issue, these aren''t kids playing at being exterminators, these are real adventurers. And they will be clashing with the bandits, do you have any idea what will happen when they do?


    "...no?"


    I don''t either. I can not see the future, only the lies of the people in the present.


    Scratch brought his fist to his chin.


    "When you say real adventurers, what does that mean?"


    Cyclophan went on to explain the ranking of adventurers in further detail, and the specific individuals that had set out on this mission. It did not paint a hopeful picture. Yet with every sentence Scratch grew more confident, because with every fact and metric, he was more prepared than with the one before.


    <hr>


    There were still three or four days left before the guild would have defeated the forest''s keepers.


    Currently the region near the cave was controlled by two powers, the bandits and the orc warlord. If Cyclophan''s explanation of magical powers and spells was anything to go by, they would have to rest to replenish their "mana" after laying waste to these groups, before they felt confident challenging an unknown enemy.


    In the worst case scenario the bandits would escape the adventurers'' claws while having learned of the goblins'' misdirection, and come challenge them personally. After which the adventurers themselves would find them in their pursuit.


    There was no chance of the two parties teaming up. Bandits were killed on sight by adventurers and enforcers, those without city were considered less than human.


    -


    "Have I properly explained the situation?" The one-eyed goblin asked the rest of the room.


    Around the table sat three groups, Second and Quiet as his confidantes, the leaders of the sheltered tribes, Strong and Snore, to represent their people, and Barbara as a consultant.


    "How do you know so much about who''s coming and when?" Barbara wanted to know.


    "He''s told by-" Second started, but he was interrupted.


    "We have our sources. Let''s please focus on the issue at hand." Scratch said, giving him a meaningful look to impart the sense of secrecy of these sources.


    Snore looked confused by what was going on, his vocabulary was very limited. "Hah?"


    "You can''t fight level C adventurers." The woman responded, ignoring the minor chieftain''s exclamation. "Even a knight is only as strong as level D."


    "Certainly, we can''t match them in a brawl. But surely, the world does not boil down to such primitive head bashing."


    "Hah?" Strong had been following for the most part up until that point, but Scratch''s use of abstraction had made him lose the plot.


    "I''d have to speak with Hayato and Yuki." Second added. "But I don''t think our traps can work so targeted. We only use them to cast a wide net and pick off some of the intruders that come near."


    "They can if we can control where they are," Quiet whispered, "if we lure them or funnel them into a snare."


    "Uh..." Second needed a moment to understand what Quiet what suggesting.


    Barbara slapped her hand on the table. "Even then! There''s no way we can harm them! We have to leave. Scatter. If it''s really Marie and her old party members-"


    "Barb." Scratch said. "Do you know why I asked you to join this conference?"


    "Huh?"


    "You see, for us, running is not an option. There''s no place on this planet''s damn surface where we aren''t hunted, so your solutions are not our solutions. What I want from you isn''t a plan, it''s information.


    "Huh, what?" There were general noises of confusion around the table.


    Scratch leaned forward to pour her a mug of distilled water. "Let''s start with who the made men of the thieves'' guild are."


    -


    The thieves'' guild, Barbara''s underworld contacts that had betrayed her, consisted of four main pillars. Each of these crime lords had their own operations and loyal followers from which they derived power that the others could not influence. In order to arbitrate their interests and join their power, they formed the guild leadership, the stewards of Eston''s underworld.


    The underground gambling and pleasure houses were handled by Mac. A rich merchant and owner of several warehouses, in which the exclusive gambling clubs were hosted, invite only. Barbara was bitter about his involvement of her "arrest". "Pompous old man, if I ever get my hands on him..."


    If anyone wanted to smuggle or fence illegal goods within the city, they could only go through Fyro, or face the wrath of his enforcers. It was Fyro that had a tight leash on the forest bandits to protect the smuggling routes. Apparently he was some sort of disgraced noble that had build up a new life somewhere remote under a false name.


    "I see." Second responded to that part, "that''s the boss that''s stringing Lydia along, huh?"


    The third don and the richest among them was the city council member and housing developer "Lacrima", an accomplished witch.


    "Witch? What''s a witch?" Scratch asked.


    "Someone born with magical powers," was the answer, "it''s not important. They''re just mages that cultivate quicker, basically."


    The witch did some trickery with moving around money that Barbara didn''t understand, and it had made her very rich.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.Lastly, there was the Liege. A powerful figure the others payed taxes to in order to continue operating, and he had enforcers to plug leaks or remove powerful obstacles. Barbara new very little of this figure, only that Lacrima was the only one that knew his true name, and for some reason, she wasn''t telling.


    "That sounds like the real boss." Scratch commented. He scratched his chin. "I think we can work with what you''ve told me, I just need some details regarding certain specific people."


    <hr>


    For the following days activities rebuilding the workshops went on.


    The kids, Rudy and Xandra, were being involved with increasingly diverse responsibilities around the town, they had been more willing to work together with the goblins than Scratch had expected and he told them so, though he added: "don''t take that as an encouragement" over the leniency they could expect from him. Strong''s people had impregnated Theresa. A single litter would satisfy her debt as Scratch had sentenced it, although it was uncertain what would happen once he demanded they let her go.


    Before long he square had a blacksmithing station again, in which they were able to reforge confiscated weapons and left over ore.


    There was no more limestone to be mined within Cyclophan''s tunnel, but with some experimentation diluted acid from the cesspool''s slimes could fulfill a similar purpose, and a tanning station was constructed near it, which was some distance away from the square, and closer to the perimeter.


    They also were able to rebuild the washing station and outdoor kitchen in this time.


    Leftover stone from the tunnels was carried towards the perimeter and combined with copious amounts of Second''s primitive wood-ash cement to create stronger barricades. This crude stone ridge could form the basis for stronger upright walls from stripped tree trunks, although barely any headway was made on that.


    -


    It didn''t slip by the goblins that they were asked to build up what was essentially a fortress.


    "What do we need all this for?" Haruto whined while holding up a wooden pillar with Benjamin, while the latter held his eyes closed and didn''t speak.


    "It''s better to be prepared than not, right?" Abel stated, pouring the cement and gravel into the hole.


    "But prepared for what?" He insisted.


    "Well... you know... things in general... adventurers."


    "There are barely any adventurers anymore, and we can fight them off every time!"


    "Uh-"


    Benjamin opened his eyes abruptly. "We prepare because we don''t know. The world is large and always changing, and our home is a tiny speck on its surface. Every day we brave the unknown, every day is a day we can be faced with something beyond our understanding. This wall could save our lives. It could not. But it is better to have a wall than to be exposed."


    "Well... there you go." Abel stated uncertain. "Thank you Ben."


    But Benjamin had returned to his groggy half-asleep state.


    "What happens when he does that?"


    "He''s saving energy."


    -


    They spend the whole day finishing up chores. Only some time after sunset when the traps had been checked did they receive some leisure time.


    Rudy and Xandra were inside the cave with the whole family when dinner was served. They had been for the past few days, and they were no longer that big of a curiosity, their conversations blending in with the general chatter of the dinner table like anybody else''s. As usual, they were seated next to Barbara, as the human enclave of the room. Brittany was still downstairs, being re-educated.


    Quiet was cooking fancier meals than usual in order to impress the guests, and to celebrate the continuing progress of the outdoor kitchen.


    "Why are we building so much?" Haruto asked Scratch, who was keeping his eye on the humans, who were talking amongst themselves.


    "Hhm? Oh. It''s good to be prepared, isn''t it?"


    "Building the perimeter is really awful. We can just fight off anyone that comes in."


    "Ha." Scratch brought his cup to his lips. "No we can''t." He then exchanged a look with Quiet signaling a mutual understanding. They were keeping a secret.


    Scratch downed his drink and slapped Haruto on the back. "Once the wall is done we''ll take a well deserved vacation.


    How does that sound? Just a week or two more."


    To Haruto a week or two sounded like a lifetime, it was almost as long as he had been alive. But he didn''t know what else could be said to get his way, so he stopped talking and turned to his food.


    <hr>


    The next day they didn''t get the opportunity to make progress on the wall.


    The fighting practice ran long due to the persistent rivalry Yuto and the girl had developed.


    Scratch''s self defense class kept to simple techniques, practiced until they were automatic. But now that the human kids were made to participate, Xandra rebelled against his instructions. She was more creative with her movements and would stubbornly alter her form in order to get a situational advantage. She specifically sought out Yuto, who was the only one with enough fire to push back against her struggling.


    That morning the others looked on as the two refused to give in on a striking exercise.


    "You know I''m used to beating down goblins!" She proudly boasted while lunging forward.


    "I think you''ve practiced getting defeated just as well." He fired back when deflecting her and taking his distance.


    "Is she always like this?" Scratch asked Rudy.


    The boy sighed. "Pretty much. What about him?"


    "Oh, I don''t know. I think because there''s a girl present he wants to impress her."


    For some reason this comment surprised Rudy, he gave Scratch a side glance.


    "If only I could get him this fired up over spears." Scratch complained. "But we''re not giving you two any edged weapons."


    -


    Eventually the two exhausted themselves, and Scratched had the group meditate in order to bring down the energy from fighting practice.


    "Breath out your tension, breath in serenity. Slowly, like this. All emotions are winds passing through your body, leaving you untouched."


    He unwound himself from the exercise. The stress of the coming clash had been getting to him, but meditation calmed him down and cleared his mind.


    However, he was cruelly thrown out of his trance by the sound of horse hooves.


    A horseback rider had simply jumped over the stone ridge where no wooden pillars had yet been planted and galloped straight into the community.


    The man was recognizable to the older goblins, Huckabee the bandit. He had been involved in some of the painful history of the clan, but in principle he was not an enemy. Scratch remained motionless, waiting for the man to show his current affiliation. But he dismounted without drawing a weapon or showing signs of hostility.


    -


    "Scratch''s? Where''s your boss? I need to talk to-"


    "Yes, here. Between the crowd. Come for a visit, have you?"


    "I wouldn''t norma-"


    "How many are still alive?"


    "Barely twenty, mostly non-combatants"


    "We''ve arranged accommodations. Tell them to follow the west trail to avoid the traps."


    Huckabee was briefly stunned at the response but climbed on his horse to report back.


    "Wait." Scratch threw up his hands.


    Huckabee held the reins.


    "Tell me you''ve saved the messenger pigeons."


    Huckabee shook his head. "Only the women and children."


    "Too bad. On you go."


    -


    After the bandit had been seen off Fyro ran up to Scratch. "What was that all about? Tell me."


    Scratch shrugged. "More refugees. But these are the last ones. I''ve got a plan."


    <hr>


    That evening the bandits could find shelter within the perimeter.


    They had been able to pack none of their belongings, but found makeshift tents and bedding for them to sleep on within the goblin nest. The tents were simple hides hung over upright sticks, and the beds were just animal furs. They didn''t provide privacy, and hardly much comfort, but they were a great deal better than sleeping on the ground.


    The horses were tied to the trees outside, and the humans were invited to a joined meal. "The will be ready in an hour." A younger goblin translated from Quiet''s whispering. "Go choose what tent goes to who until then. And stay away from that camp, those are feral." He pointed at the shoddy slums around the platform, where emaciated creatures leered at the visitors.


    Lydia Harkness, the bandit leader, immediately moved towards the cave to speak with the goblin boss. She was referred to the washing basin by Biter.


    -


    "You''re being very hospitable." She stated.


    Scratch didn''t look up from the laundry he was scrubbing. "Lately it seems we''re turning into a hotel."


    She crouched to be level with him. "So the thin ones aren''t yours."


    "They''re in the same boat as you lot."


    "We can''t stay, the guild will come after us."


    Now Scratch looked at her. His one eye gleamed with mischievous intensity. "Nonsense. Who do you think I am? Tomorrow this whole thing will be over and done with."


    She stared intently at his face, but couldn''t determine what he was thinking.


    "go freshen up," he continued, "dinner is almost ready."


    -


    The fire was stoked to never before seen intensity that night. The places normally reserved for seating were within the confines of the enormous roaring bonfire.


    "What are you doing!?" Huckabee yelled out distraught. "That thing is like a beacon!"


    "Even an idiot can track 20 horses." Kicker told him. "It''s not a secret where you are."


    He eventually calmed down and ate what they gave him.


    The humans were served roasted mushrooms and bread. It wasn''t flavorful, but it was filling.


    "Where''s Dee?" Kicker asked him.


    "And Patrick and Beth?" Biter added in-between bites.


    These were the other human warriors they had previously seen with the bandits.


    "Oh no." Huckabee buried his face in his hands and started crying.


    The two goblins looked at each other uncomfortably and walked away.


    -


    Not far away Denise was trying to get the two girls to calm down.


    Her own daughter, Cobaline, was in hysterics, while the little adoptee Letta had retreated into her own world entirely.


    "Bwuuuh!" The daughter cried. "The- the- the- weeeh!" She couldn''t properly convey her feelings over her own sobbing.


    "Come, baby. It''ll be okay." Her mother hugged her close.


    Letta was in no better condition, muttering to herself, staring intently at the goblin leader.


    "Letta. Girly, are you alright too?"


    But the girl didn''t respond to the woman that had fostered her the past month.


    -


    Harkness generally observed the sorry state of her people while stalking around the camp.


    She noticed the different buildings than before, and the other humans in the camp. Including the thieves'' guild prisoner they had given to the goblins.


    Eventually she found Scratch again and went to talk to him.


    "You''re letting the prisoner walk around freely?"


    "Which one do you mean?"


    She sighed. "You do have a plan. Don''t you?"


    "Lydia. Of course I do. Have I ever lied to you?"


    "You just won''t tell me."


    "Of course I will, just ask."


    "Scratch. If you can save us, we''ll be in your debt forever, please tell me your plan."


    He gave an evil grin. "You see her?" He pointed at Barbara. "She''s the brood mother here."


    "I know."


    "For goblins, the mother is the only real parent. All knowledge we have comes from what humans we can learn it from. And you gave us an insider."


    "A member of the thieves'' guild."


    "Exactly."


    "But our enemy is with the adventurers'' guild. Did you thin-"


    He gave her a mocking look. "Lydia, please, if there''s anything I know it''s mobsters. And mobsters don''t share turf."


    "What''s turf?"


    Scratch chuckled quasi-condescedingly. "Adventurers are muscle, enforcers, killers. They''re a mob. They can''t share the same city with a guy like Fyro if they''re rivals, the streets aren''t wide enough."


    "''Scuse?" Fyro piped up.


    "Not you."


    "So to you they have to be together." Lydia commented.


    "It''s not a theory, it''s a fact, we have an informant after all. Fyro''s thugs are adventurers, as are Mac''s, even Lacrima has a high ranking adventurer as bodyguard. The guild leader himself isn''t free of their influence."


    "Hold up. Lacrima is with the thieves'' guild?"


    "You know her? She''s in the leadership."


    Lydia held her forehead. "That sweet old lady..."


    "If an adventurer doesn''t have ties to the thieves, he works with someone that does." Scratch added. "And so too the people coming to visit tomorrow."


    "So?"


    "So, this entire extermination mission is a big misunderstanding. We''ll have it cleared up over tea and everybody can go home with no blood spilled."


    She gave him a troubled look. The plan seemed flimsy, but if it came to war, it would be better to have a few dozen goblins fighting on their side. They wouldn''t do much damage, but perhaps they would get the enemy to exhaust their mana. "We''ll put our trust in you, Scratch, I''ll put my trust in you."


    "Whether you do or not doesn''t matter. We''ll handle it."


    <hr>


    The next day there were no chores assigned, and the morning routine was skipped.


    Scratch selected a team of fighters as an advance party to meet the adventurers.


    "Kicker and Biter, I know you''re up for it. Second, you stay her and keep an eye on Rudy and his tomboy girlfriend. Okay, who''s itching to stretch their legs? Fyro, Abel, Yuto. I think that''s about enough. You know what, Digger, you come too."


    And they set off through the beaten trail of the bandit travelers, expecting the other party to come tracking the same tracks from the other side and meet them in the middle.


    The two groups met each other before they were out far enough for the false flesh on Fyro''s hand to act up.


    -


    In the distance two tall silhouettes and one smaller one approached. They matched the descriptions of the individuals Cyclophan had described.


    "Halt. We''re there." Scratch commanded the others. Go stand to the sides to that-"


    He was interrupted by a quadruped almost his own height pouncing him to the ground. It was a dog. A bloodhound with loose skin and plentiful drool dripping between its large teeth growled and seemed ready to rip out his throat with a single bite when his brothers bashed at its side with their weapons.


    Enraged the canine began chasing after the goblins, running in circles and switching targets while the children scattered in panic.


    A whistle could be heard and the creature dutifully gave up its hunt and returned to its master.


    "Snitch, come here girl, no fighting." The large man said in a sweet tone.


    "I was wondering when we''d see a goblin ambush." His friend, an even larger woman with a shiny kite shield commented. "It''s not like many have been getting culled."


    "You deal with the lot." The little girl with the tall gem-encrusted staff said dismissively. "I''d much prefer saving my magic for warping back."


    "Wait. Hold up, parley, parley." Scratch called out while laying on the ground.


    "Ugh, he talks. It''s a tamed one." The girl groaned. "Boris, just kill them. If they want to negotiate they can talk to us themselves, not send a goblin pet."


    "Yeah." The dog owner walked up to the goblins and raised his crossbow.


    The goblins raised their weapons, Abel and Yuto raised their shield and stood in front of Scratch.


    "Kathia! We''re here for Kathia''s sake!" Scratch sprung to his feet while talking.


    Boris lowered his weapon.


    "You know what they''re talking about?" Said the vanguard.


    "I know a Kathia." He said sheepishly. "And I don''t like her."


    "Well, how... how do you think Kathia gets her business, right?"


    He shrugged and raised his weapon again.


    "She works with us! Duh!" Scratch prattled as quickly as possible before the enemy would fire. "She re-sells stock from dead adventurers. Adventurers that died to bandits."


    "Only merchants vetted by the adventurer''s guild may sell weapons." The large woman stated.


    "Unless it''s underground, right? Unless she''s got protection from the thieves'' guild. And the thieves'' guild won''t be happy to see you kill their people."


    "All the more reason to do it then." The woman said, but Boris hesitated.


    "You wouldn''t want anything to happen to your sister, Boris." Scratch said, the goblins began lowering their weapons, Snitch the dog looked around confused. "Or you little niece. Do you want to make an enemy of Kathia, who runs with the thieves?"


    "Boris!" The woman was angry.


    "Damn it, Marie! My sister is in Eston right now under Kathia''s roof! They''re holding her damned hostage."


    "Come on." The little girl raised her staff. "It''s a ruse! evidently!"


    "Is it, Mildred? Then why do I know why you''re paying the pastor and what for?"


    Mildred''s face became beet red. "H-how-"


    "Every one of you is connected to this enterprise. Either by someone that has power over you, or some way you directly benefit."


    Marie raised an eyebrow. "Me too?"


    "How do you think that poison got in Eston? It was smuggled via the bandits. Roll up the operation and you''ll be exposing your own crime."


    "Marie, what is he talking about?" Mildred wanted to know.


    "Shut up for a moment." She called over her shoulder, then she turned to Scratch again. "You expect us to let them kill adventurers indisciminately because you''ve got some dirt on us?"


    He threw up his hands. "No more killing. That''s over, done for. We''re meeting you half-way, and we''re expecting the same in return. Doesn''t that sound nice? If nobody has to die?"


    "What now?" Mildred asked. "Do we just go back?"


    "I have to meet with my sister." Boris demanded.


    Marie gritted her teeth. "Fine. We accept, no more killing bandits." She raised her shield. "But the goblins die."


    Scratch''s smug grin instantly dissapeared. "Say wha-?" Again his sentence was interrupted by being knocked to the ground as her shield made sudden contact with his face and knocked him back several times his own height in distance.


    "Gwaaah!" He screamed in pain through his own shattered teeth and the blood filling his mouth.


    "I was warned about a goblin that was the enemy of Benesant. And now I''m convinced it''s you. If we can''t get to the bandits, at least we''ll get rid of enemy of the goddess."


    "Who ve fwuck iff Benefanf." Scratch tried to say through his ruined mouth.


    -


    His siblins began to attack the large woman''s legs, but she seemed to hardly feel it. In one fluid motion she drew the sword from her back and slashed it into Yuto, shattering his wooden shield and cleaving his skull in two. She kicked over Digger and stepped on him, killing him instantly, and walked up to Scratch. "Time to send you to hell."


    The shiney weapon reflected in Scratch''s eye. To spite her he grinned again, even if with his ruined mouth it was painful. "You cannoff k-ill me."


    "Stop!"


    From between the foliage jumped Lydia harkness in her protective gear.


    "You again?"


    She put herself between Scratch and the vanguard. "If you want to kill these goblins, you''ll have to kill me first." She panted heavily and with fear in her eyes, "and that''s the one thing you can''t do."


    Marie tapped her foot in impatience. The way these creatures acted made her feel like the bad guy somehow.


    "Mildred?"


    "Yes?"


    "Cast your warp spell, we''re going back to the town square."


    "Fine."


    The little girl waved her stick around and an orb of light enveloped her, the man, and his dog. Marie stepped back to enter the orb and with that the effect of the spell.


    Scratch was still prattling when he saw her leave. "You can- can''t kill me. It... wouldn''t make sense. I''m already dead, this is hell."


    The adventurers disappeared with a sudden and painfully loud bang, leaving those left behind in a daze, as if all of it had been a dream.


    Abel approached Lydia. "Why did you follow us?"


    She cradled the wounded goblin leader and brushed the hair out of his face. "I don''t know. No sense of self-preservation I suppose."


    <hr>


    "So by absolute coincidence, they didn''t kill you on sight, and you were able to bluff them." Barbara said mockingly.


    She and Scratch were alone in the foyer, the other goblins being busy with chores or being distracted by the going-ons of the bandits.


    "Every plan is bad in hind-sight." He stated authoratively, while feeling up the missing teeth with his tongue. Four teeth were missing, none of them neighhbours, it made him look like a kid who had lost his primary teeth but had not yet grown all adult teeth.


    "I don''t think that''s true."


    "In any case," he leaned back and put the oversized pipe in his mouth, a thin glittering vapor came from the blue grass he was smoking, "we did prepare for something like this, it just took a different form than we expected."


    She crossed her arms. "How''s that?"


    "After the chaos done in the countryside, we knew the civilized world would take notice and start flexing their muscles a bit. We just thought it''d be in the form of an army. In a way, this was less severe."


    "So you made sure the bandits would take the blame."


    "Indeed, we knew that if they took heavy losses from the disciplinary actions, we''d be able to take a more dominant role in their business, which the smuggling business, which is our first foothold into Eston."


    "If I ever told Harkness about how you basically threw her to the adventurers, your plan would be ruined."


    "Oh yes, she''d kill all of us."


    "And I''d be freed. So, you just trust me not to betray you?"


    "I wouldn''t insult your intelligence like that, I trust you not to go against your own interest. Sure you''d be free to go wherever you want, but you''d have no allies, not in the forest, not in the city. Whereas with us, you have a future."


    "I do?"


    "You do. The trick to power is to put your allies into high positions." He blew a smoke ring. "Like for instance thieves'' guild leadership."


    "You can''t do that."


    "I can try. My plans might be dumb, but they''ve worked thusfar. And it''s the best offer you''re gonna get."


    She put her hand to her chin, intending to consider the proposal, but ending up mostly fantasizing about taking control of the organization that had cast her aside.


    He interrupted her train of thought. "But let''s not discuss any possible secrets the bandits shouldn''t know about, I hear a certain bandit leader approaching."


    "How could you possbly hear that?"


    -


    But he was right, a few minutes later, after stopping in front of the entrance to listen in, Lydia Harkness entered.


    "It was a task." She answered, bending her head tto avoid the low ceiling, "But we managed to get a message out. Fyro knows about the information leak, he''ll see to it the guild members won''t do too much damage with the information you gave them."


    "And their deaths won''t be in the forest, so it won''t raise the reputation of this area as a dangerous place." Scratch grinned, showing his ruined teeth.


    "I''m just afraid of him asking where they got it." She sat down. "Is your offer still up?"


    "Joining forces? Naturally. Today the sister tribes are moving back to their own territory, that should free up a lot of space around here."


    "Thank you."


    "It''s hardly charity, we benefit as well."


    "All the same, thank you."


    Scratch gave a satisfied smile, but then corrected himself. "Uh, you should thank Barbera here. She''s my minister of human affairs."


    Lydia shook her hand. "Thank you Barbera. I thought you were just a prisoner."


    Scratch waved his hand. "Prisoner, family, those are fluid concepts around here, I would like to consider you lot family as well, can I?"


    Lydia thought about it. "...Sure. In a way."


    He got up. "Let''s stretch our legs, there''s still things that need to be done today."


    <hr>


    Bandit Cities


    Rarely a bandit camp can grow in size and population until can no longer be called a camp, but must be referred to as a city. Bandit cities can also be the result of normal towns being overrun and taken over by bandits. Any person choosing to continue living in such a city is also considered a bandit.


    Bandit cities are always handled by the army, although occasionally bounties are called on powerful warriors or commanders among the bandits. The defeat of a bandit city requires an extended siege, occupying the land to prevent the inhabitants from smuggling their goods in and out of the city.


    Bandit cities are rare in the eastern countries, however, the Yellow Wastes has a large network that hasn''t been eradicated for centuries.


    It is forbidden for members of the adventurer''s guild to do business in these cities. Doing so is a crime for any citizen.

 Reputation

    Eston wasn''t a large town, but it did have its own warping circle.


    The mosaic mandala was laid on a slightly raised gazebo just outside the historical center. Any mage with sufficient magical power could warp to this structure to enter the city. In a low level town like Eston that would be a mere fraction of the adventurers, so no real imperative was felt to put conjoin the circle and the guild house. When Marie and her party members arrived in Eston, they had a 15 minute walk ahead of them before they would reach the headquarters.


    A circle of light appeared from the middle of the structure and deposited the guild staff onto the ornate floor. The bauxite streets around them were close to deserted. Only a few lonely silhouettes could be observed from a distance, minding their own business.


    "I''m going to get my sister." Boris stated, as soon as they stepped out of the circle.


    "Meet us at my office." Marie ordered. "Don''t tell anybody about what we just learned."


    He gave a hasty nod and trotted off. Hurried without trying to look hurried.


    "Can we trust him?" Mildred wondered out loud.


    "I don''t know." Marie grunted. "Our blackmail won''t go away, but if he can get his sister and niece under a safe roof he might not be as considerate of us and ours."


    "What was it they''ve got on you? Did you poison someone?"


    "Don''t ask mine and I won''t ask yours. Let''s go."


    -


    The two traveled to the guild house, exchanged some pleasantries with the adventurers lounging in the hall and retreated to Marie''s office.


    "He''s taking a long time. You don''t think he''s spilled the beans yet, have you?" Mildred worried after close to an hour of waiting.


    "It''s hard to get a read on that guy. I think at least he''d try to convince us to come out with it together."


    "Would we?"


    "..."


    "I mean, what choice would we have? We wouldn''t... try to silence him or something... would we?"


    "This was never the deal. We''re adventurers, they can''t force us to ignore a bandit infestation. That goes against our purpose in life."


    Mildred was silent for a bit. Her purpose, in life and for becoming an adventurer, was to earn a high living and possibly marry into nobility. "So you do want to bust it open. Reveal the truth. Get us both locked up, or even exiled."


    Marie bit on her fist. "This was never the deal."


    -


    Eventually they were joined by a third person, but it was not who they were expecting.


    "You don''t mind, do you dearie?" An old woman knocked on the door and let herself in. "Oh, oh, what a nice little room you have here."


    "Miss Lacrima." Mildred''s back straightened. "You shouldn''t be here. We''re discussing-"


    "Oh I know about that, dear." The woman slowly lowered herself into a seat. "Your friend Boris isn''t coming I''m afraid."


    "W-what are you saying?"


    "Lacrima." Marie spat the name. "We never agreed to this arrangement. Bandits in the forest."


    "Oh I know." The woman said in a sympathetic tone. "The truth is: You were never supposed to find out about all of that. The guild likes to keep things separate."


    "The thieves'' guild?" Mildred''s mouth fell open. "Ma''am, you''re with them?"


    "With them?" Lacrima cackled. "Girly, I am them. The the thieves'' guild is mine."


    Marie stood up and slammed her hands on her desk. "You think you can just get away with all of this? We won''t just let you take ov-"


    She froze mid sentence, as her body turned to stone.


    Mildred gave a fearful look towards Lacrima. The witch had barely moved, yet was able to cast a petrification spell that even a vanguard of Marie''s level couldn''t shrug off.


    "Mildred. Sweetheart. I know you''re wiser than your colleague. So I''ve had a chat with old Arnold here."


    The guildmaster appeared in the doorway with a guilty expression on his face.


    "He has already submitted you two for a suppression mission in the west. Can we hope you make it back alone?"


    Mildred nodded slowly.


    "Good girl. I knew you were smart. Here, have a candy." The witch laid a wrapped chocolate on the desk. "Arnie, dear, get me out of this chair please. My old bones aren''t what they once were."


    Dutifully the guildmaster, not a young man himself, helped Lacrima up.


    "Do I-" Mildred stammered as Lacrima was about to leave. "Do I have to kill her?"


    "Of course! That''s how we''ll know you''re with the program." When the witch was out the door she turned around once again. "And we will know. Toodles for now!"


    -


    Leaving the distressed halfling with the frozen vanguard Lacrima vented her frustrations on the guildmaster, on whose arm she was leaning.


    "Guth lay her curses upon Fyro, to get an old lady like me to tie up his loose ends."


    "How did Fyro''s bandits learn about your schemes?" The guildmaster asked sheepishly.


    "Oh, I don''t know. I''d say he''s been overstepping his bounds, but even he''s too smart to play his hand on something like this. If you ask me, those bandits are acting on their own accord. They''re getting impatient with him."


    "If they try too much, my hands are tied. The adventurer''s guild-"


    "Oh I know dearie." She patted his arm. "I''ll impress on him the importance of his discretion."


    Her tone of voice was warm. But he was trained enough to feel the magical energy within her surge threateningly as she said it.


    <hr>


    "But why do you want me to leave?" Fat looked rejected at Scratch''s words.


    "I want you with this community because I trust you." Scratch impressed on him. "You think I''d send Second to lead his own tribe? He''d go to war with us in a week."


    Fat laughed. It was a big hyperbole but it was founded on some truth somewhere. Second never accepted Scratch''s teachings without arguing. He just had to be different.


    Of course, the real reason was that those healed by the magic salves could not stray too far from the cave. Second, Kicker, Fyro, and Linus were all trapped.


    "The river''s not that far. We''ll see each other plenty when we''re exchanging stuff, alright?"


    Fat nodded and dried his eyes.


    "My little man!" Scratch play-boxed with him. "Growing up, becoming independent!"


    The boy giggled at the praise.


    "Now you run along. Don''t let them leave without you."


    Fat, Kicker and Abel left with Strong''s tribe and some materials the cave goblins could miss; planks, bricks, metal. It was a fair trade.


    "I know what you''re doing." Barbara had said. She had been making a hobby out of deciphering his motives. "You want to bind the tribe to yours, expand your influence."


    "That''s the long-term." Scratch had answered. "In the short term, I want to appease Strong after taking away the captive we gave him."


    The adventurer called Theresa had been healed with Cyclophan''s false flesh and could not stray too far from the cave, besides, she was the caretaker of the two human kids they had running around and he had promised them she would earn her freedom after returning 4 goblin lives. Well, two litters later that debt had been repaid. Although she had refused to take part in their naming, the river goblins had a dozen more fighters now.


    "Why Fat and not Quiet?" Barbara wanted to know.


    Scratch shrugged. "When we get a better cook than Quiet I''ll consider giving him up. But not now."


    <hr>


    The day they saw off the visiting goblin tribes various constructions were finished up.


    The bandits were used to a level of luxury slightly above that of a feral goblin, they put up tents, filled with soft bedding, between the well and the tower.


    The wall now stood on the entire perimeter, tall wooden pillars propping stone debris, cement and planks. It was far from straight and looked half-melted, but it was tall enough to prevent casual climbing.


    Slightly to the side of the area, where the hill sloped down rather than up, a space was left for people and goods to come in and out of the village. For now it was an opening, not a gate, anyone could enter and leave without a watch.


    Lastly, the cave opened up by Cyclophan''s drilling had gotten a proper entrance. The hole led out to a balustrade, from which a simple staircase led down. By the underground river that touch the air now stood a little rack for clothing. The goblins could submerge themselves in the water and wash of their sweat there. Previously they''d used damp cloth to wipe themselves clean, and this felt a lot better.


    "I remember being here just over a month ago." Huckabee told Haruki. "It looks so different now."


    "Who are you?" The goblin asked confused.


    "I- I suppose you wouldn''t know me... It''s not important."


    "Okay." And the kid skipped off.


    Huckabee was left on his own amidst the goblins trotting from place to place. He felt alone. It hadn''t really dawned on him yet how much of his comrades had died. The goblins too, it felt as if the things he had experienced alongside them were ancient history now. He wondered if this was what elves felt like when they visited human cities.


    He lost his train of thought when his boss called him over. "Huckabee. Here." She whistled.


    Like an obedient puppy he came up to her.


    "You keep an eye on the women and children while I go have a talk with Scratch."


    "Boss. Beatty''s goblins wouldn''t hurt them."


    "It''s for their peace of mind Huckabee. Just do what I say."


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He put his hands up apologetically and without complaining took on his post standing in front of the tents. So little of them were left.


    -


    Harkness confronted Scratch in the forge, where he and some of his goblins were watching a very thin piece sheet of iron being hammered.


    "They tell me you''re sending the kids home."


    "The kids?"


    "The young adventurers, what were there names... Xandra and Rudy."


    "Yes, sorry, guys." He excused himself from the audience and led her to the cave. "Let''s discuss this with Barbara."


    "Why?"


    "Yeah... why. Because it''s her call in the end."


    -


    The three of them gathered in the dining room. Harkness and Barbara on opposite sides of the crude wooden table. Scratch was sitting on the corner and letting his legs dangle off.


    "You''ve got a problem with the way we do things?" Barbara said in a haughty tone.


    Harkness looked from her to Scratch and back. "Secrecy is a bandit''s creed. We never let adventurers report on our location."


    "Lydia is worried all of this is for nothing if word gets out." Scratch explained.


    "Isn''t word already ''out''?" Barbara asked. "You told us the guild staff came here specifically for the bandits, didn''t you?"


    "The situation isn''t ideal." Harkness said bluntly. "But that doesn''t mean we should just let anybody-"


    "Lydia." Scratch smiled. "Aren''t you sick of others reporting on you? Wouldn''t you like to set the narrative for once?"


    "What do you mean?"


    "You''re here for the founding of a city." Barbara stated. "We can''t hide a city. What we can do is shape how we''re seen by outsiders."


    Scratch kicked the air enthusiastically. "Those kids are our intro into the known world. Our first impression."


    "We''re going for a kind and generous image." Barbara continued.


    Harkness was silent for some time. Then she spoke. "You''re gambling on the kindness of strangers."


    "Lydia." Barbara stood up, walked past the table and sat down next to the still seated bandit. "You know how this goes firsthand. The army lays siege if the danger exceeds the resources required. And this area doesn''t even have a Barony or any fortifications, so if we keep a low profile..."


    "Goblins, when raised properly, can form a mighty infrastructure." Scratch added. "We have the manpower. But we need human minds to guide us."


    "Unless you''re accused of opposing the deity of light and justice." Harkness glanced at Scratch. "Then there''s no ''keeping a low profile''."


    Scratch avoided eye contact.


    "Listen..." Harkness sighed. "I won''t say I''m optimistic. But my people are a fraction of what they were. You are the best chance we have, so we''ll do it your way."


    Barbara suppressed a cheer. "We won''t let you down."


    -


    Later Barbara would comment on the exchange to Scratch. "Speaking of setting the narrative. You sure did push me forward as one of the masterminds."


    "Being a matriarch sounds a lot more enticing than being a brood mother, doesn''t it?" He answered. "It''s a hard sell. But any willing mother strengthens our position a thousand-fold more than a brood slave. Compare yourself to that Brittany or Theresa."


    <hr>


    The humans that have come to live in the goblin nest are all bandits.


    I know about bandits. There''s a three copper piece reward for every bandit slain at the adventurers'' guild. A normal bandit is a level E threat. That''s to be expected, they''re basically normal people just like us.


    To the goblins humans are all the same. So they don''t consider that we might be afraid of them. Last night I barely slept because I could hear them sharpening their knives.


    Xandra isn''t afraid as usual. [We don''t have anything they want.] Is what she says.


    If we stay here long enough, and everybody back home forgets about us, won''t we become bandits?


    -


    Early in the morning I have trouble waking up when she''s in the field doing stretches.


    [I''ve got the hang of the knee-hook now.] She tells me. [This time I''ll beat Yuto for sure.]


    However, at morning exercise there is no Yuto present. Xandra walks around a bit confused looking for a sparring partner. I just ask one of the goblins.


    [Yuto? Dead.]


    [Dead? What do you mean dead?]


    The goblin looks a bit confused by my question dead. [Dead. You know? The head came off.]


    It dawns on me that he was killed in a fight outside the camp. [Who killed him?]


    [Humans... right?]


    I wave over Xandra. [Maybe you can practice on me today.]


    [Why? You suck.]


    [I-] I''m trying to tell the news diplomatically but I''m thrown off by her insults. [Just. Yuto is dead. Okay?]


    [What?] She looks at the goblin I just spoke to. [Abel. Is that true?]


    He throws up his hands. [Adventurers!]


    Xandra acts a bit dazed for the rest of the day. I even beat her at the knee-hook.


    -


    Today we''re both helping to finish up the wall. I do notice how this place is becoming a stronghold, and that we''re helping to make it one.


    Xandra isn''t talkative, but Biter the goblin is very chatty while we''re hauling the rocks that go in the wall.


    [And now Lydia is coming to live here, and Huckabee, Dee is that, but that''s okay. You know Huckabee killed Yeller. But that''s in the past now. Scratch says the past is-]


    [I get it.] I''m exhausted with him.


    [Kicker is going away.] He says more softly. [We''re always together, but Kicker is going to help Fat at the river and I have to stay here. Because of this.] He shows me a swollen growth on his hand.


    [What''s that?]


    [I got hurt by an arrow, they healed it, but now I can''t leave the cave. It makes me sad because now I''ve got to split up from Kicker.]


    It was unexpected to me that a goblin could have such normal feelings.


    But then he changes and puts on a big grin. [But being sad is bad, so I won''t be.] Smug over his solution he adds.


    [That reminds me. You two are leaving today too, aren''t you?]


    [We are?] That''s the first I''ve heard of it.


    -


    When we get back Scratch comes up to us to tell us to stop building. [You two. Chore time''s over, wash up and we''ll see you in the large tent with your friend.]


    Xandra and I look at each other. [I think he''s talking about Theresa.]


    [No I''m talking about the tooth fairy. Of course it''s Theresa you dumb-dumbs.]


    After we''ve washed our faces and hands of the dirt and cement we look around the bandit tents for the largest one.


    [I wish I had my weapons.] I whisper. But the goblins have molten them down and turned them into cutlery.


    The large tent belongs to the bandit leader. There''s no guards or security of any kind and we simply walk in.


    [Lydia, kids. Kids, Lydia.] Scratch says, his head peeking just over a desk. The only piece of furniture in the room.


    [Pleasure.] The bandit leader, Lydia, says.


    [Rudy, Xandra!] Theresa jumps us and hugs us both. [Oh, kids.]


    [Can you believe she thought we ate you?] Scratch huffed.


    [Let us go, you monster!] Theresa proclaims. She looks at the bandit leader.


    [We''re not the ones keeping you.] The bandit sneers.


    [That''d be me.] Scratch squeaks. [And I think that''s absolutely fine. You''ve repaid their debt for them, haven''t you, Theresa?]


    Her lip quivers.


    [You''re letting us go? Just like that?]  Xandra asks sceptically.


    [Just like that? What more do you want?] He chuckles a bit. [We''re even. So it''s time for you to go back home. We''ll supply you with rations, if you leave this afternoon you''ll be in the city tomorrow morning.]


    [Scratch tells me there''s a goblin caravan leaving today. You can go with them for the first few miles. After that, it should be mostly safe to travel.] The bandit leader adds.


    [If you can patch up that wound in Theresa''s stomach. We''re not healers you know. It was a temporary patch-up.] Scratch concludes.


    Theresa touches her stomach through her clothes.


    [And... I guess that''s it. A bit meagre to call a conference for, but I wanted you to meet each other.] He gestures between Lydia and ourselves. [I like for all my friends to know each other.]


    Xandra gives a little growl under her breath.


    [Well, off you go. You three go enjoy the goodbye festivities. We''re not leaving for a few hours yet.]


    The three of us leave the tent and retreat to a more quiet place, away from all the people. We have to hear what happened to Theresa and comfort her.


    -


    Because I have memories from my previous life I''m actually older than Theresa. But she doesn''t know that, she''s trying to be the adult and comfort us.


    [Are you two alright? Xandra, did they do anything to you? What happened to Angela]


    [We''re alright.] I say. [We had to help build their camp. Angela has fled. What about you?]


    She gives a sad smile. [Well. The usual thing with goblins. I might need some healing, but I''ll survive.]


    [These aren''t usual goblins at all.] Xandra claims.


    [The bandits have a monster tamer among them.] Theresa explains. [If they didn''t hurt you, that''s because that Lydia person told them not to.]


    [No.] Xandra disagrees. [The bandits and the goblins are separate. Before today there were no bandits here.]


    [Just because they weren''t here, that doesn''t mean they did-]


    [Do we trust them?] I interrupt. [Are we leaving with the caravan?]


    [We don''t trust them. But if we can grab some of the weapons the bandits are using...]


    [I don''t want to kill any more of them.] Xandra says. [It wouldn''t be fair. They didn''t kill us when they could.]


    [Xandra.] Theresa grabs both her shoulders. [Listen to me very carefully. You don''t owe these people anything.


    They''re enemies of civilization, you hear me? Sometimes people captured by bandits will start to feel bad for them, but that''s not real, it''s a delusion, okay? They''re your enemy, what''s normal is for you to fight them.]


    [I don''t want to do anything just because it''s normal anymore.] I say softly. [I don''t feel comfortable with it.]


    She looks at us both, and I see real pity. [Fine. I won''t leave you two behind. We''ll go with their caravan if you don''t feel like fighting them.]


    [Theresa. Thank you.] I touch her shoulder. I feel like I have to do something to comfort her.


    As we catch up like this, music starts to play at the other side of the camp. The goblins are holding another little concert.


    -


    About eight members of the family are lined up in rows, next to them Fyro is seated with a lute. There''s some more stuff to the side but I can''t see it clearly.


    Scratch stands in front of them and starts to wave a little stick around like a conductor.


    A single clear soprano rises up from the choir, only later joined by the chorus.


    I''d like to build a world a home


    And furnish it with love


    Grow apple trees and honey bees


    And snow white turtle doves


    I''d like to teach the world to sing


    In perfect harmony


    I''d like to hold it in my arms


    And keep it company


    I''d like to see the world for once


    All standing hand in hand


    And hear them echo through the hills


    For peace throughout the land


    [That''s beautiful.] Xandra whispers.


    Theresa is silenced by the sound.


    But I''m shocked. I recognize that song. From my previous life.


    <hr>


    For the goodbye concert George and Second had constructed a cymbal of iron.


    Second had come up with the idea independently, inspired by the sound of clanging metal in the blacksmithing hut.


    What the two had produced was sort of an ambiguous instrument in-between a cymbal and a gong. Suspending it from leather straps allowed it to reverberate and make a musical note when hit, although the sound wasn''t that pure, it was still an ingenious contraption and had earned a place on the stage.


    This musical goodbye wasn''t just for the goblins, it was for the humans too. So Scratch had come up with the most saccharine and pacifist song he could remember from his past life. "I''d like to teach the world to sing." by the New Seekers. The best singing voice in the tribe was Mac''s, so he gained a starring role in the performance.


    They had practiced the song only three times beforehand, but goblins had a great memory and Scratch was able to guide their pitch with an impromptu conductor''s baton.


    -


    When the song was over the bandits had all gathered around the tower to appreciate it, and even the captives stood silently a bit removed.


    "You guys freestyle for a bit." Scratch told the choir and climbed down.


    The river goblins, a small army now with its new births, stood ready to leave. Most had put their baggage on the ground to listen to the music.


    "Strong. My man. You''re gonna miss us?"


    Strong nodded. "Your tribe is mighty, Scratch."


    "Oh, mighty is not the word. I would say... developed."


    "Developed."


    "Yes. Fat and the others here are going with you to share our knowledge, before you know it, you''ll be as developed as us."


    Strong''s chest rose. It was hope for the future that filled his body.


    "Fat. Where are Kicker and Abel?"


    "Getting the humans. Once they''re here we can leave."


    "They''re compliant?"


    "Compli-?"


    "That they''re doing as asked."


    Fat nodded in understanding. "The adventurers are. But there''s Letta too."


    "Letta... I hadn''t considered her. If we''re sending ours home the bandit would do theirs too. Does she want to stay that bad?"


    "It''s more that she doesn''t trust us."


    "She''s a concern actually. Her story isn''t really on message for us."


    "What does that mean?"


    "It doesn''t matter. Put her with the grown-up, she''ll cling to her. You''ve got everything? Sleds, bags?"


    "Yup."


    "Safe travels man." The two brothers hugged.


    The sister tribe was seen off with some eclectic music and emotional goodbyes. Once the sun had gone down, they were out of sight.


    <hr>


    Warping Circles


    The construction of a warping circle is not a trivial task. Only the mightiest capitols have more than one. These platforms are created out of carefully laid out magical gemstones in a unique pattern.


    The Warp spell, given to humanity by the goddess of magic, Guth herself, can transport the user to any warping circle in the known world they are familiar with. If they have enough mana.


    Warping circles are the fastest and safest way to travel. However, the mana cost is too high for most mages to muster, and the spell can not transport large volumes of goods. Therefore, travel by sea or sky is still the most popular method.


    Warping circles are used by high-level adventurers and trained nobles to move around at their convenience. Almost never for trade.


    Most warping circles have a fail safe, allowing them to be disabled if a city is under attack from an enemy that is capable of warping. At the time of writing, no such event has occurred. The four realms have been at peace for two centuries, only using their armies to fight monsters and bandits.

 Open Wide

    "Out of the question." Stanford proclaimed.


    He and Huckabee were standing inside Harkness'' tent. They were there to discuss the community resuming their smuggling work.


    "I mean, what are you thinking? With two warriors left?"


    "Are there no other able-bodied left amongst you?" Barbara, the goblin mother, asked.


    "Able-bodied, sure. But not fighters. Ma''am, we''re not a community of warriors." He turned pleadingly to the boss. "You know that those that are here are here because they have no other place to turn to."


    "What''s out of the question is you reneging on this deal." Came the boyish voice of Scratch, the fifth and last participant in the meeting. "You can not afford to show weakness here."


    "The guild knows about our situation." Harkness put laconically, as was her way.


    "Your cousin in the city knows, yes. And no doubt he''s already putting together some alternative. If the border-hoppers from outside catch wind of ol'' Huckabee here playing the blues solo, they''ll be switch partners like that." He snapped his fingers. "You''ll lose them."


    "Be. That. As. It. May." Stanford tapped his foot in frustration, "Huckabee and the boss can not defend a caravan by themselves."


    "You have access to as many of our goblin warriors as you need." Barbara answered.


    "How many is that really?" Harkness wanted to know.


    "As many as you need."


    "But-"


    "Goblins breed quickly." Scratch interrupted. "It''s kind of our superpower. You know about our offer to any women amongst you."


    "Huckabee." Stanford urged the last combatant underling to say something. "By Benesant, really, stand up for yourself."


    Huckabee scratched the back of his head. "Gee guys. It sounds good, but a caravan is a long procession, you know? We could be attacked at any place and goblins.... other goblins I mean... don''t really care if they stand a chance, they''ll attack anyway."


    "Lydia." Scratch said. "You''ve got a map of the area there."


    "I do."


    "Could you show us the route the caravan takes?"


    Without speaking she drew a line with her fingers.


    "And this is all supposed to go over in a month?"


    She nodded. "twenty-nine days."


    "In that case, let us suggest a detour." He dragged his nail over the aged paper, making a curve from the starting point at the edge of the zone to the meeting place.


    "Why there?"


    "Because next month all that territory will belong to allied tribes."


    <hr>


    Above the door of the orphanage stood the ornamental form of its founder, surrounded by non-descript children looking up at her in adoration.


    It was an expensive stone carving, payed for out of donations and noble patronage, as well as the modest profits of the institution''s yearly fund raising efforts.


    Letta looked at the display with mixed feelings, it seemed to exalt the name of the founder more than the mission of the orphanage.


    The attorney knocked on the building''s heavy oaken door, and gave her a little smile. The man had confirmed she was who she said she was and send message to her next of kin. Until such time that a relative would agree to take her in and come to retrieve her, she would have to stay here, with the orphans. With the other orphans.


    A girl a few years older than her pulled open the entrance, seemingly having to struggle with its weight. The girl was still barely a teen, and the excessive frills on her green and white dress did no favors to her outward display of maturity.


    "Hullo there, Alpheba." The man spoke. "Could you get your master for us? There''s someone that would like to meet her."


    "Yes mister." Alpheba responded. "Would you like to come in?"


    "We would, thank you." He took off his hat. "Come on in Letta, it''s nothing to be afraid of."


    The two were led into a small carpeted room with two chairs and a coffee table. Alpheba disappeared behind an interior door opposite the entrance, leaving them in each other''s company.


    "Don''t worry." The man ensured the girl. "The director here is very kind."


    -


    After almost fifteen minutes they were greeted by the kind lady herself.


    An absolute prune of a woman, hunched over and shriveled up by age, shuffled into the waiting room and warmly exclaimed her happiness at seeing them. "Oh Stein, how nice to see you. How''s the wife and kids?"


    "Just fine, thank you." He bend over to accept her handshake, which she turned into a hug and a kiss on the cheek.


    "And who''s this then? What''s your name dearie?"


    "This is Letta." The man spoke for her. "We are trying to reach her family in the Tanner barony. Unfortunately.... it seems like her parents and brother have been lost to the orc''s raiding."


    The headmistress tutted.  "Awful business. I heard the man from the dog kennels died killing it. That Boris fellow. Terrible, terrible thing."


    "It wasn''t an orc!" Letta almost screamed out. "It was goblins! A one-eyed goblin!"


    "She''s understandably quite upset," said Stein, "of course, the orc was using goblins, they''ve been keeping her prisoner for months."


    "There was no orc." Letta tried to suppress her cracking voice. "It was bandits. Bandits and goblins. They''re working together, they''re-"


    She was hugged tightly by the headmistress, she smelled of mothballs. "Oh girly, I''m so sorry. You didn''t deserve to go through all of that."


    At once Letta was calm. Her arms fell heavily to her side and her eyes stared into the distance.


    "I''ll take Letta to meet the other kids. They''re playing with the dogs now, we''ve got quite a few new ones to take care of, since the kennel closed down."


    "I understand." Stein put his hat back on. "I''ll be returning to the office. There are some young adventurers returning from the wild after going missing, and we still haven''t verified their identities."


    "Bye Stein. Don''t work too hard now." The woman joked.


    "Goodbye miss Lacrima, goodbye Letta." He waved as he left.


    "Goodbye..." Letta spoke in a monotone voice, still staring in the distance.


    "Don''t go telling just anybody about bandits, girly." Lacrima told her once they were alone. "An upstanding person like him has no business hearing about that awfulness."


    <hr>


    It took two days for the remaining population of the new camp to ready a farming field outside the wall. They had to remove the tree trunks of the felled trees.


    The bandits had axes and swords to cut the roots, but before those were exposed the goblins had to remove the surrounding dirt with make-shift trowels. Second and George had developed the tools out of chipped stone and clay, and a rotating cast of farmers put in the work. Near the end of the second day it was Biter, Fyro, Benjamin, and Scratch himself.


    "Ugh!" Fyro complained. He was drenched in sweat. They had all taken off their tunics after exerting themselves in the day time, under the beating sun. And wrapped some cloth around their hips purely for modesty.


    Scratch didn''t even admonish him for whingeing as he had done in the morning. He was too exhausted to speak himself, he simply leaned on his tool and overlooked the field. It was almost done. It wouldn''t be anything impressive, barely a farm, more like a large vegetable garden. But it represented something. Once they were growing their own food, this would no longer be a camp, an effort in survivalism, it would be a society, their own place in the world.


    "Ben. Benjamin!" Fyro called out to his brother. "You never do anything! Come help with this one, if you''re not going to do that one!"


    Benjamin looked up from behind a half-dug trunk. He had been lieing down in the shadow.


    Scratch gave a little pointy gesture to affirm Fyro''s point. Benjamin''s efforts were better put to use next to someone that could keep him awake with constant nagging.


    The goblin boss let himself fall on his back. The ground was relatively soft for a forest floor after it had been broken up by the digging.


    He shielded his eyes from the sun when Biter came to stand over him, blocking it entirely.


    "Tired?" The younger brother asked.


    "A bit. How''s your hand?"


    Biter''s hand had been pierced by an arrow during the defense of their home more than a month ago, they had healed it with the questionable magic of the evil god Cyclophan, which filled it with fake flesh.


    "The same as always." He answered, and stretched out the very same hand to lift the boss up.


    Scratch reluctantly took the limb, feeling the unnatural patch of skin in the middle of the palm, and got up.


    "Stanford''s come to look." Biter told him.


    A the edge of the fledgeling field stood the bandit healer.


    "I better go say hello." Scratch decided. He dusted off the cloth and went to speak with the visitor.


    -


    "They tell us goblins are subterranean and can''t stand the warmth of the sun." The man told him as he came up to him.


    "Honestly, that would explain a lot. You sightseeing?"


    "Actually, I''m here to function as intermediary."


    "Intermediary?"


    "Yes. It is like this, Miss Harkness and I trust you, and most- I would say all of the bandit community- trust us. But I''m afraid that trust isn''t very transitive."


    "Meaning...?"


    "There are objections to your Yuki and Haruki being too... comfortable with humans. We have a mother with a young daughter among us, you know how mothers are. You''ve joked about inviting women to join your family, and the proclivities goblins are known for..."


    Scratch threw up his hand. "Say no more. I completely understand, I''ll have a talk with the boys about workplace decorum. But I want you to understand, those were no jokes. The tribes of this forest need mothers, real mothers with maternal authority, we''re weaning them off the brood-slaves."


    "That... is a laudable effort. But for now I see very little enthusiasm among our people for your program. In fact, it seems to inspire a lot of suspicion."


    Scratch shrugged. "We''ll give it some time. Rome wasn''t build in a day. Are you going to help out here?"


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Stanford took a look at the work. "Uh, gee."


    "Do you have something better to do?"


    "I suppose not."


    -


    Stanford was stronger than the diminutive goblins and his strength greatly aided their efforts.


    When it was time for the workers to change shift the allocated plot was almost completely prepared to receive seed.


    "Phooey." Stanford wiped the sweat off his brow. "It''s been decades since I''ve worked on the lands, it''s hard work, but certainly gratifying!"


    "There''s no accounting for taste." Scratch remarked dryly at his appreciation of agricultural labour.


    They both watched Fyro and Benjamin regain their energy when hearing they were dismissed and replaced by last generation troublemakers.


    "It''s a decent plot." Stanford eyed the size of the cleared land. "But is it enough to feed our population?"


    "It''s more of a proof of concept." Scratch answered. "If this potato patch works out, the coming decade we''ll surround ourselves with potatoes."


    "That is... ill advised." The healer said while touching his chin.


    "Why? Potatoes are a super food, aren''t they?"


    "They certainly are... super, but farming is more complicated than selecting an optimal flora and growing it as much as possible. You''ll deplete the soil and get diminishing returns every year."


    "Yeah, we have to fallow the ground, right? So we alternate then, prepare all the ground but use only half of it."


    "That''s certainly part of it, but to use land optimally, you need to make use of crop rotation."


    Scratch raised an eyebrow. "Crop rotation? I''ve never heard of that. Is that some weird magic thing?"


    "Crop rotation is actually a special technique brought to us by Haruki."


    Haruki looked up from his weed picking. "Huh, by me?"


    "Oh, no, haha," Stanford laughed politely but dismissively, "Haruki the first hero. All changes to society are brought about by heroes, special people above mundane humans."


    "That''s right!" Haruki chimed in. "Me, Yuto, Sota, Yuki, Hayato and Haruto are all named after the first heroes. There''s a play in the human city every year where they wear masks and they re-enact how they saved the world!" He was reiterating what his mother had told him about his name.


    "That''s a lot better than being named after some gangsters your mum didn''t even like." Scratch said.


    "It''s a lot better than being named after an attack with your nails." The young goblin responded mischievously.


    "There are three types of nutrients in the soil," Stanford explained after Scratch had send Haruki off to go finish his chores, "chisso, compost, and mana. The optimal strategy is to replace each crop with one that does not feed as heavily on the same nutrient, and possibly replenish at least some of the nutrient the next crop will feed heavily on. Potatoes and other roots use the compost but deposit chisso, so you follow them up with fruits like tomatoes, which need the chisso. After that the legumes, you know, bean, peas, and the like. Then lettuce or cabbage before you fallow and start with roots again. You also have to make sure to alternate between species that use up mana from the ground and those that take in mana from the air and return it to the ground after being harvested. You can''t follow up ambrosia''s with spring-beans. Well you can, but... you know."


    Scratch scratched his head at the deluge of information. "How do you know all this?"


    "How? I can''t quite say, I suppose it''s just something one picks up as a kid."


    "See. This is exactly what we need humans for. You''re now my minister of agriculture."


    "What? I couldn''t possibly..."


    "Don''t be like that, it''s an honor. The only thing you have to do is tell us what plants should be planted when."


    Stanford took a long and tired look at Scratch''s self-satisfied smile. "I can never tell when you''re joking."


    "I never am."


    <hr>


    It would be almost a month before the community would get their hands on any potatoes they wanted to plant. So the tilled field lay uselessly outside the wall while they occupied themselves with other things. Scratch and a few others had set out to win over neighbouring tribes with gifts and promises, and those lef behind worked on construction.


    An internal road was being paved. From the gate to the square and around the tower both goblins and humans tore out the top soil, matted with grass roots, and laid in shale stones, with the occasional clay tile to fill up leftover space.


    The ''driveway'', as Scratch called it, served mainly to make the place seem more like a real town, even though it wouldn''t see carriages that would require such a surface for the foreseeable future, and as a team building exercise between bandit and goblin.


    -


    While working on this project, one of the bandits saw a scene that displeased her greatly.


    "Cobaline!" Denise called out to her daughter in a distressed and almost panicky tone of voice. "Stop right there! Cobaline!"


    The little girl, who was mock-fighting Yuki and Haruto with dead branches. Yuki was playing a mighty adventurer, the others were goblins being slain.


    When being called out by her mother Cobaline dropped the stick and straightened her back. She was caught doing something she already had been told not to.


    "Cobaline, get away from them." The mother demanded angrily. "And you two, didn''t I warn you?"


    Haruto had not been privy to her and Scratch''s previous scolding, that had been Yuki and Haruki, but he knew better than to start an argument.


    "We''re not fighting, we''re just playing." Yuki answered defiantly.


    "You-!" The woman held herself back from slapping him.


    From behind her Second had paused his own work on the road and came running up to the group as fast as his goblin legs could carry him. He saw himself as an older family member coming in to diffuse the situation, but when he arrived Denise pulled away her daughter from him too, feeling herself beset by an additional harrasser.


    "It''s okay because they''re just playing, Yuki and the others like to play pretend, and they act like adventurers, but-"


    His run-on sentence was interrupted by Cobaline herself speaking up. "I''m lonely without Letta! I just want to play with the others, mommy."


    "These aren''t other kids, baby," Denise admonished her daughter, "we don''t know when they''ll try something."


    Second''s eyes darkened at these words. "Do you realize that you''re twice their size?"


    "Excuse me?"


    "Scratch has shown a lot of trust in you, you know? Taking you into our home. If any of you ''try something'', there''s nothing we can do, but we''re giving you the benefit of the doubt, it''d nice to-"


    "Now listen here you monster-"


    "It''d be nice see some RECIPROCITY!" He raised his voice to overtake her interruption.


    For a moment it seemed like they would get in a shouting match, but their argument was interrupted by the bloodcurdling scream of a goblin fighting for his life and losing.


    <hr>


    The cavern below the bird coop had been turned into a bathing place and fishing spot.


    A basket trap hung in the underground river and a through filled with water stood nearby the towel rack to dump the captured fish in.


    Linus, who had limited mobility after having his legs ruined, occupied himself with watching the trap and sewing a cape.


    Haruki sat nearby, sulking at being told off.


    "It''s not fair." He muttered. "Cobaline says it''s not fair too."


    "Don''t say ''fair''." Linus repeated a lesson from Scratch. "Say: ''it''s not nice'', or ''it''s not fun''. Nothing is ''fair''."


    "I just-" Haruki splashed his feet in the water. "I''m not a monster. I don''t-"


    He paused. He had seen something move in the dark waters. He entered the cold liquid to take a closer look.


    "Hey. The fish trap is broken."


    "Is it?" Linus looked up from the sewing work. "Maybe Yuki or Second can help repair it..."


    A pale white thing, resembling bleached driftwood was gliding near Haruki''s legs and billowing tunic.


    "Har..." Linus said weakly.


    Haruki didn''t respond, he looked around him to see what could have destroyed the trap. Then, suddenly, he screamed.


    Red blood spread around him as two powerful jaws perforated his lower leg with countless teeth.


    "Nooo! Aaah!" He cried from the pain as he kicked the monster with his other foot.


    The creature started trashing him around and dragging him underwater.


    "Haruki!" Linus flopped forward on his belly to grab his little brother''s hand.


    The two managed to grasp each other''s wrists.


    Haruki started sobbing as the monster twisted his leg.


    -


    "What''s going on!?" Second came running down the tunnel after hearing the screaming.


    "I don''t know." Barbara said in distress. "It''s in the hole, I can''t see anything there."


    With some other first responders behind him Second rushed down the wooden staircase. "Linus, Haruki!"


    The two were laying on the riverside, grasping each other. Haruki''s leg was in the maw of a hideous monster.


    The creature was yellowish white, a reptile with short legs and a long snout, its nostrils and eyes being high on top of its head. Its skin was leathery and bark-like, it looked thick.


    Without hesitation Second jumped into the water and grabbed Haruki''s waist, to prevent him from being dragged in further.


    "Where''s Scratch?" Haruto exclaimed behind him.


    "He''s on a diplomatic mission." Fyro answered.


    "Forget about Scratch!" Second spat furiously. "Grab a spear or... something!"


    There were no spears within immediate reach, but there was mining equipment. The other goblins rained down on the beast with the earliest make-shift picks their family had been able to produce.


    The hard implements bounced against the creature''s skin, but it was clearly distressed by the barrage, because it began to thrash the goblin around harder.


    "Don''t let go don''t let go-" Haruki whined desperately.


    "Don''t worry, we''ve got you, everth-" Suddenly the beast focused all its strength in a single powerful yank. Haruki slipped out of his brothers'' grip, his head smashed against the cave wall with a sickening *crack* and he disappeared underwater as he was dragged upriver.


    "N-" Second was stunned at how quickly it had happened. He wouldn''t have been able to finish his sentence in the span of time it had taken for the creature to turn everything around.


    His brothers held him back as he tried to swim underwater into the airless depths. "NO!"


    Nobody said anything. By now, they should have gotten used to death.


    <hr>


    A bit out of the way, near the river, stood the tree home. A large open space underneath the roots of an ancient tree in which goblins lived.


    On the way to the tree home, where they had once been captured by orcs, Scratch had managed to find some blue grass.


    He was toking the substance when conversing with Nug, the local alpha male, and Runt, his translator.


    Surprisingly, the feral goblins had better food reserves than they did.


    The flour they had traded for with another tribe before the culling and had been using to bake bread had almost run out, and the spoils from hunting and foraging could barely sustain their own numbers alongside the humans. By contrast, the tree tribe was stripping two large boars of their meat when they arrived.


    Scratch and his entourage had brought soft skins and furs to the natives, in the hopes of establishing patron-like relation with the group, as they had done with the river and hill tribes. However, the tree tribe was in an unfortunately strong position currently.


    "Nug''s tribe is strong." Runt translated the grunts of his leader. "Have food. Have women. Have weapons."


    The last time the they had visited the tree tribe Nug had offered them the reverse, for the cave goblins to unite under his leadership with their superior tools. Scratch had hoped that a harsh winter and the culling would have weakened them, but they seemed to be stronger than ever. Besides the boars they were wielding orcen weapons and farm tools, and the pink flesh of farm girls was visible through the roots of the trees.


    This one has been marching under the orc. When that collapsed he took in a bunch of survivors under him. Cyclophan advised through the magic of the goblin king''s pipe.


    It seems like Nug knows how to play the game, very clever. Scratch puffed on his pipe and began to speak. "You tell Nug that we''re impressed by his tribe, and that we''ve brought some gifts."


    The gifts in question were exceedingly practical. Rope and ceramics, two things feral goblins had no way of producing.


    Nug made some more noises and Runt translated. "Nug asks why you give stuff."


    Scratch was beginning to grasp the orc language these goblins had adopted, but was content to continue communicating through a medium. Runt had some affinity for them, they had saved his life in the past. That made him a good party to have in the mix.


    "Why? To lift you up. One day, all tribes here will be able to stand up for themselves against stronger creatures, I''ll make sure of that." It wasn''t a lie per se, it really was his ambition to strengthen the region, just a bit more tightly under his control than he was implying.


    Nug puffed out his chest. "Tree tribe is strong. Tree tribe defeat any foe."


    He''s lying. Cyclophan fulfilled his intended role as lie detector for negotiations. They''ve recently lost half their members to adventurers.


    Scratch took his pipe out of his mouth and looked around. There were close to three dozen goblins running around the dried dirt covering the roots. With multiple captive women, rapid procreation would be inevitable, double these numbers wouldn''t be out of the question. That''s why the food seemed so abundant, it was the haul of a much larger group.


    "Then allow us to supplant... add to your troops with some of our know-how." Scratch tried.


    Nug''s response could clearly be parsed as negative by Scratch''s understanding of the orc language, but from Runt came a different translation. "Nug say... please help defeat humans, humans come and kill us."


    Hmmm, that''s interesting, Cyclophan commented, it''s the translator that''s lying. The alpha fears you''re trying to take over.


    And he''d be right, Scratch thought. "You tell Nug what you were going to say we said."


    Runt''s cheeks flushed and he gave Nug a story.


    "But enough diplomacy." Scratch announced, let us show you how to roast that pork and we''ll have ourselves a party.


    Benjamin had been carrying a clay lantern with a giant candle inside to every tribe the had visited. They were able to light campfires with the flame, hopefully to get the tribes hooked on the miracle of fire, leading them to accept cave goblin stewardship once it had gone out.


    -


    While his brothers involved Nug with the setting up of the fire, Scratch took Runt apart from the rest.


    "Are the humans getting too much?" Scratch puffed on his pipe.


    Runt looked over his shoulder but then confirmed strongly.


    "You''ve got friends here? You want to protect this place?"


    "Yes."


    Uhhm....


    Really? That was a lie? He seems so sincere.


    No, but, in the cave. One of your goblins got snatched by a beast.


    What? Was it an important one?


    Which ones are important?


    Nevermind, we''ll deal with that when we get back.


    "Listen, Runt, we can''t protect anyone that doesn''t want to be protected. If you want our help, you need to get the tribe behind you."


    Runt cast down his eyes.


    "But... we can help with that."


    "You can?"


    "We can, if you''re willing to become the alpha male, we''ll give you the tools to make it happen. But you need to show us who your friends and who your enemies here are, you understand? A coup d''etat."


    Why don''t you just march in and make yourself their leader?


    Shush. Don''t question my methods.


    Eventually Runt agreed to use Scratch''s forces to bring his closest friends to power, even if in the revolution some of his lesser friends could very well die. It was for the long-term safety of their clan and, not insignificantly, he was excited by the prospect of becoming leader.


    -


    "Was that everyone?" Scratch asked Hayato after coming to an agreement over the conspiracy.


    Hayato took out the rolled up parchment supplied to them by the bandits. "Here, here and here, that''s all of them."


    "All of them that are important to the mission. Well... let''s not overextend." He was referring to the smuggling route that they wanted to secure.


    "Did we get this one?" Hayato asked.


    "We''ve got to come back in two days and put a puppet in power. But yeah, we''ve got them."


    "It was nice to see Fat and Biter again."


    Scratch ruffled the younger goblin''s hair. "It''d only been a few days, were you that attached?"


    He scrunched the map slightly. "To know they were there..."


    Scratch looked a bit sadder. "After this one we''re going straight back, something bad has happened


    <hr>


    Cave Croc


    Family: Reptiles


    Threat Level: E


    Reward: 3 copper pieces


    Cave crocs are the evolved form of swamp crocs. They are stronger and prefer living underground, in water dungeons and grotto''s. Their tough skin grants them significant resistance against physical damage. Cave crocs possess the ambush predator trait, allowing them to lie in wait for days on end until an adventurer comes near them. After the initial strong bite they are easily defeated, though one must beware being dragged underwater by a cave croc, as it will try to drown its victim.


    Cave crocs rely on darkness more than swamp crocs, and are completely white with no camouflaging colors. They are solitary creatures and do not employ pack tactics.

 Fief

    The innermost cavern was lit up by a bright white light, revealing the colors and lines of the rock as they had never been before.


    The source of the luminescence was a "candlelight" spell by a noble born woman. Lydia Harkness, disgraced knight, stood waist-deep in the middling current, holding a stone-tipped spear. Her magic allowed her human eyes to observe the stuffy depths, better than the make-shift candles ever could.


    The bandit leader had descended into the narrow tunnel in order to help her diminutive allies.


    The goblins needed the protection of a superior warrior while they secured underwater entrances into the space.


    They would have been content doing so on their own, exposing themselves to the predator should it suddenly return, but their mother had commanded them to call in the help of the knight.


    In that way, her intuition was stronger than even Scratch''s. The goblins had difficulty recognizing danger, Harkness had seen that many times, both with the feral and these house-trained ones. It seemed to her that Barbara, the mother, wasn''t as much of a leader as they would like to pretend, but she was definitely an ally to the tribe. She and the other non-bandit woman were both pregnant again, they would almost double the tribe''s population in a few days.


    -


    Planting her feet against the slippery rock, Harkness kept a stalwart stance. Her spear ready for any monster, should it reappear.


    At one point she thought she saw something moving and thrust at it, hitting only water. The creature did not appear again, and she was left taking in the construction being done.


    The goblins in front of her were Scratch''s brothers, Second and Biter. Under this cold white light and their reduced clothing she could see the two had strange scars, covered by an excess of flesh, like tumors. It seemed to her that these things must be a common irregularity in goblin anatomy, she had never studied the species closely before.


    Second was the brains, he had brought a small hand-drill to the project, his own invention. The iron head was long and spiral and the handle was bifurcated in diverging grips, allowing them to put in torque with their arms. It wasn''t an efficient tools by the standards of society, which would have involved a hand crank, or simply magic, but it was ingenious for a goblin.


    Using the crank the two alternated drilling holes in the roof of the tunnel, a few inches upstream from where the river entered the air pocket. Then, hazel wood sticks, penetrated by sharp flint, were inserted into these holes. The sharp stones pointing outwards through the wood towards the unknown.


    The tribe had access to a kind of cement but, as Second explained to Biter, in this wet environment the stuff wouldn''t dry. Instead, small wooden wedges were inserted with the sticks which would expand due to the humidity and lodge them tighter.


    At long last, after half a day of doing this work, they put a heavy log horizontally against the grate, ensuring that any creature making an effort to break it down would have to contend with thee combined strength of all bars simultaneously and the weight of the heavy log.


    "Big enough for a cave croc." Harkness ensured them, after she had helped put the massive final piece in place.


    "Well we''ve decided that we won''t swim anymore," Second responded, while collapsing on the riverbank, "because we don''t know what''s in there, though if we did we wouldn''t be safe anyway, and-"


    Harkness interrupted his rambling sentence simply by climbing out of the water. Her wet clothes clung to her body, revealing the tone of a trained warrior and curvature of a noble-born. The mere silhouette drowned out the more cerebral parts of Second''s mind. He pulled in his knees and looked away in shame.


    The woman wasn''t aware of the inner workings of his mind, and instead noticed the unusually plentiful reserves of mana after maintaining the light spell for so long.


    The three then went up to the service, to inform the others of a job well done and to obtain a new set of dry clothes.


    <hr>


    Lydia Harkness left the cave wearing a drenched shirt and short trousers overneath some cotton underwear, also drenched. The simple clothing she replaced it with covered more of her arms and legs, but was the only fabric between her bare skin and the outside world. Although spring had arrived the midday air still had a chill in its wind and she considered putting on more layers when her attention was caught by a commotion in front of the platform.


    Goblins and humans had forgotten their mutual tensions and crowded together in singular focus on one spectacle.


    With no particular hurry she walked over the new and only mostly finished road to where the crowd had gathered.


    On the ground stood a crudely made crate the goblins used to store arrows, three scraped and bleached human skulls lay on top of it, without lower jaw.


    In front of the skulls sat an unknown warrior, he had a mail vest but no weapon, and he was scratching his head.


    Behind the skulls sat Scratch, his one eye glistening in glee and showing a grin with holes in it.


    Harkness found her subordinate Stanford in the crowd. "Are those human skulls?" She asked.


    "I believe so. They do have cups, but they''re each rather distinct, so our friend Scratch has re-purposed the remains of adventurers for his game." He looked at her. "It is rather distasteful."


    The captured adventurer slumped over in defeat and pointed at one of the skulls at random.


    The goblin boss made a "tut-tut" sound and revealed that the selected skull did not hide anything. "Wanna try again?"


    "The adventurer is playing for his freedom." Stanford explained. "He keeps giving him more chances."


    "How many now?" The bandit leader asked.


    "Twelve since I''ve arrived."


    "It''s a trick then." At a certain point, randomly guessing would eventually yield the right answer.


    -


    Scratch revealed the location of the silver coin and began to reshuffle the skulls.


    Harkness kept a close eye on his movements. His fingers moved faster than the human eye could follow, like a veteran swindler.


    When he was done the three skulls once more stood in a perfect row. He gestured to the containers in an inviting manner.


    Among the crowd various goblins began to shout their own answers, at this point convinced the human would never guess it anyway, but not yet understanding that they wouldn''t either, for the same reason.


    "Left!" "Middle!" "No, left! Definitely left!"


    Harkness, having seen through the sleight of hand, walked up to the pair and put her hand against the side of the prisoner''s neck. "The coin is under the fourth skull. Would you drag this out forever?"


    Scratch stuck out his tongue with a smug "Bleh!" Revealing the silver piece he had hidden in his mouth.


    "Cheater!" The man tried to jump up in a fit of rage, but the bandit leader''s hand kept him in his place.


    "Lydia," Scratch introduced her after putting the currency down, "this is Paulos. He was told to come here by his ''goddess''. He killed the straggler from Strong''s tribe. You know Bread? With the tumors."


    "I can kill him right now if that''s at all convenient."


    "Yikes." Scratch turned to Paulos. "Can you believe her? Kill you! Good thing you''ve got me to stand up for you."


    Scratch had cast her in the role of villain, a teasing fiction. "I don''t want to see you harvest anymore skulls from the living," she shot back, "the screams are... so annoying."


    "You love my screaming." He winked his one eye at her.


    "You''re going to let me go?" Paulos asked.


    "Sure."


    "Can I have my sword back?"


    "Uh, no."


    -


    The would-be exterminator was shoved and kicked out of the enclosure.


    Some people threw some garbage at him as he scampered off.


    "He killed your comrade," Harkness commented to Scratch, "you''re not punishing him for that?"


    "Why? Would that bring him back? We''re no longer keeping ourselves a secret."


    "It might give you some peace of mind."


    He clicked his tongue. "I dunno. That''s not the beast I wanna feed, you know? Not for myself, or for any of the kids."


    She couldn''t parse his esoteric language, but she decided not to pursue the issue any further. If that was his idea of justice, then so be it.


    "Did you help second with the river? You''re such a sweetheart."


    She blushed slightly. Scratch''s grin looked like that of a boy that has just lost his milk teeth and has yet to grow the whole adult set. When he praised her like that she felt self conscious, falling for such charms had taken everything from her before. "As the leader I must secure the safety of my people, or what''s left of them."


    "Sure, sure, I didn''t mean anything by it. I am glad you can get on with Second."


    "What have you done to secure the trading route?"


    "I''m happy you asked, are you free tomorrow?"


    "Why?"


    <hr>


    Runt folded his arms together. It was early in the morning and cold.


    He and eight others had left their sleeping holes under the tree before sunrise and gathered at the edge of the territory. They were about to meet a different tribe.


    The sun was coming up, managing to slip in beams of light between the forest trees, when they finally arrived.


    Scratch and his brothers arrived with two sleds of spears and shields. With them was a woman, an intimidating looking figure with metal equipment on her body.


    "Atten-tion!" Scratch brought his outstretched hand to his brow. "Straighten your backs soldiers!"


    Nobody knew what he meant by that, so his command went unfollowed.


    Runt''s comrades became interested in the cargo, so they lobbied Runt to translate for them. "You give weapons."


    "Us give weapons indeed my young friend, but do you know how to use them?"


    The tree tribe had weapons, courtesy of the now defunct orcs, but they were monopolized by the high status members of the group, and there were no shields among them. So there hadn''t bee much opportunity for practice.


    The human woman watched them from a distance as Scratch and Kicker explained some basic techniques and the plan.


    -


    The sun was well and up when the revolutionaries gathered at one side of the tree.


    Their tribe members didn''t pay any mind to the familiar faces with the new equipment, they were busy removing the rotten meat from a quickly aging carcass.


    Then the cave goblins made a sudden and dramatic entrance.


    "Raah! Attack! Attack!" Kicker Roared.


    At first the warriors readied their crossbows and axes but they were quickly overwhelmed when the bandit leader decided to help out.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "Rhada''s breath!" She brought he hand to her mouth and spewed forth of a cone of red fire. The pain made even the fearless goblins drop their weapons and run.


    Before Nug could come out and see what all the fuss was about, they had entered the hole.


    "Here you go Lydia, I know how fond you are of saving captured girls." Scratch commented as he led her down.


    The space under the tree roots was wide but with a low ceiling. The earth underneath had been broken up to make it softer. Against the sides lay foodstuffs, a muddy puddle of questionable drinking water and a trio of differently aged redheads, probably sisters, with a gaunt and dehydrated appearance.


    While crouching Harkness managed to kick Nug back. Scratch and his brothers took up such a position that the tree goblins could not properly abuse her compromised footing and had to fall back.


    "Girls. We''re taking you out of here." The bandit stated.


    "They broke Maudlin''s leg," the youngest proclaimed, "she can''t walk."


    The sister''s leg did have a visible problem with it.


    "I''ll carry her. Now go."


    The captives crawled out of the opening, with Harkness helping one along. She turned to Scratch for a moment and seemed to want to say something, but she didn''t.


    The cave goblins went through and around the tree, where they drove Nug and his allies into the hands of Runt and his.


    It turned into a struggle. Nug was certainly the stronger and more experienced warrior, but the revolutionaries had a tight formation, with their shields all locked against each other. They all focused their spears on the same target, and Nug was killed.


    The outsiders simply looked on as Runt picked up Nug''s black steel sword and waved it about. He grunted something in orcish and after some back-and-forth the others yielded to him. The battle was over.


    -


    While the tribe re-organized itself, Harkness conferred with the captives. "Eston is a day''s travel to the north, just follow the river. I can escort you to the water, but no further."


    "Thank you, thank you!" The sister with the hurt leg tightly hugged the bandit. "Eek!" She exclaimed as she saw Scratch stand just a few feet away.


    "Yeah, you''re splitting off from the group? I''d say we''ll wait for you at home but I don''t know what I''ll be accused off coming back without you."


    "Just a moment." Harkness told the survivors and went up to Scratch to speak to him. She was crouching again to be closer to eye height when conversing with the goblin.


    "Did you take me here to free these girls?"


    "Honestly? That was just an afterthought. This tribe is right in the middle of our route, you see? We''re clearing the way." He put his hands on his hips in pride.


    "I''d have brought Huckabee and some guys if I''d known you wanted to extermin-" She stopped herself. "You don''t want to exterminate goblins. I apologize."


    "Me, I''ve got nothing against the practice, but emptying the place is just making room for replacements. Ideally, we''d like to control the territory ourselves, but since none of your girls are volunteering we can''t spread ourselves that thin."


    "So you''re leaving them be?"


    "A boy called Runt is their new alpha, he knows them, their personalities, connections, ability. It''s called a puppet leader, a tried-and-true method from history.


    "Do you trust this ''Runt''?"


    He scoffed. "I trust him not to betray his self-interest, it''s only because of us that he can stay in power. Listen, leave the management to me, it''s sort of my specialty."


    "Alright then." Despite herself she was suddenly pinching his cheek, he slapped her hand, a bit startled. With an embarrassed look on her face she abruptly stood up and turned around. "It won''t be long, I''ll be back here and then we can go home together."


    -


    When Harkness had left with the women Scratch was left having to answer questions from the tree tribe.


    He ended up organizing a panel under the tree, only the goblin holding a special branch was allowed to speak, except for Runt, who was their translator.


    *Grunt* *Squeel* "You didn''t need them anyway, we''re sending over someone that can actually take care of you."


    *Hiss* "What was that? No, some of us will help build defenses and living arrangements."


    *Squeel* "At first, yes, but they''ll pick up the language. Or you''ll pick up ours."


    Then they tried to ask him for specifics, which he couldn''t answer, but his brothers filled in some gaps with generalizations. All in all, what they promised were defensive structures, fire, drinking water and traps. This pleased the tree goblins, even those who had not been part of the usurpation.


    <hr>


    Frank, Booker, Valentine, Reed, Lee and Gerard. These were the names of Brittany''s goblin litter. After being pressed to name them she had given the names of men she knew, boys from the village she had grown up in. She had never known them very well, preferring the company of other girls, and now those names would forever be associated with these goblins.


    When she had first been captured, months ago, she had been horrified. She had drowned out her fear with bluster and rage, but being captured by goblins was her greatest fear made real. It had been drilled into her as long as she could remember, not to let herself get captured by goblins. She, who fancied herself a warrior, had gotten overconfident and let herself be done in by the weakest among the subhumans. Those captured by goblins suffered humiliation above any possible, not only were they dominated by inferior weak creatures, their very bodies were disgustingly violated and used for breeding.


    At first she fought whenever she could, spitting, kicking, biting. But these goblins were patient, they let her tire herself out, screaming at an empty room. After just a week she had been physically and mentally exhausted, even then she held on to her dignity through stubbornly defying their control. But eventually she let them lead her along, her head low in shame. When she did that she started earning back privileges, the ability to feed and wash herself, access to books. The other woman, Barbara, had been grateful company.


    Eventually, she had to bear goblin children. These were them, six doughie-eyed small creatures, though growing fast. She recognized something of herself in them, and she knew exactly who the other half came from, Quiet, the cooking goblin. After all these weeks winning more and more of her captors'' trust she was now in a position that could almost be called authoritative, she was the mother to these new additions to the tribe, and they did as she said.


    Her position was similar to that of Barbara now, a matriarch. Today she had told off Valentine for bothering the bandits and made him apologize. The kids waited on her on and and foot, bringing her food, holding her property and obeying her orders. It had gotten to the point that escape would mean a sacrifice on her part, she didn''t know if those six could really understand why she had to go. But this limited power couldn''t compare to the freedom and self-respect of living independently.


    -


    "Gerard. Go light up the fire," she told her youngest, "it''s getting chilly."


    The little boy nodded and trotted back and forth between the pit and the woodpile to transport firewood.


    It was dusk and most daily activities had been halted. Brittany was laying on a fur mat on the ground, next to the fire pit. She was reading an old novel the goblins had stolen from some farm, it was about romance at sea.


    When seeing the firewood being piled up, the bandit leader approached the spot, it was slightly out of the way of the bandits'' camping grounds.


    "Want me to help light it?" She asked.


    Brittany pulled the fur a bit closer to herself, she felt self-conscious in the presence of a strong a free woman. "Help yourself." She muttered.


    Harkness used magic to ignite the dried logs without the need for kindling. "Wooow." Gerard gasped from next to his mother, much to Brittany''s annoyance.


    Scratch came peeking out of the cave, he was holding his comically oversized pipe. "Ah, magic. You sure are good with that stuff."


    Harkness sat down next to the pyre. "Where did you get fire before us?"


    "The usual way," was Scratch''s answer, which didn''t make any sense, what other way was there to obtain fire other than magic. However, it was expected of Scratch to suddenly stop making sense mid-conversation. He was a monster and his perspective was inhuman.


    "What do you mean by that!?" Harkness laughed.


    Scratch raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You know, hard work and a lot of patience?" It was futile trying to understand him.


    The one-eyed goblin boss sat down with his pipe and lit some moss to light his pipe.


    "That''s not tobacco, is it?" The bandit leader asked. "What is it you''re smoking?"


    "Oh, I don''t care what," he puffed, "whatever I can get my hands on."


    Brittany rolled her eyes.


    -


    Within a few minutes, more people started to gather around the warmth of the fire. The bandits collecting around Harkness, the goblins around Scratch, forming two sides, with Brittany caught in the middle. Luckily, her own kids and the highly pregnant Barbara gravitated towards her, creating their own little island.


    There was a general murmur of conversation going on, but Scratch''s voice rose above it when he addressed her."Brit, how would you like your own tribe?"


    "You mean-?" The bandit leader asked.


    "You and the kids building a home for yourselves, away from us bullies, how does that sound?"


    "What are you talking about, what is your plan with me?" As one of the matriarchs she was no longer expected to be meek with him, Brittany could openly question Scratch he would dutifully answer. But it wasn''t like he was respectful of her now, the tone was more familial, in a family the tone is consistently informal.


    "We''ve got a a group of lost children that need taken care of. We''re putting some people there to learn from. You can teach them how to fight!" He looked proud of himself.


    "I don''t really have a choice, do I?"


    "I suppose you don''t."


    After that conversation they didn''t waste time, the very next day preparations had been made to relocate her.


    Scratch had used her going-away party as another opportunity to advertise the matriarch position to female bandits, but they were less receptive than ever.


    <hr>


    Eventually there did come the day that a foreign smuggler came to the edge of the forest, expecting to be able to sell his goods.


    To meet him came twelve bandits, all equipped with weapons and armor, though only Lydia Harkness and Huckabee among them really knew how to use them. Behind them were almost two dozen goblins, hidden between the trees. The smuggler noticed them, but he had stories about the bandits cooperating with a monster tamer.


    "You with Harkness?" The man asked, referring to Fyro but not recognizing his cousin.


    A simple "Yes" escaped the bandit leader''s lips.


    "He says the transaction happens here now." The man mentioned with an uncertain tone of voice.


    "It does. Show us what you''ve got."


    So he took them through his three wagons of goods, which had been dragged there by a single mule. These were stolen wares, they would have been recognized in their city of origin and had to be sold off somewhere else. Rare monster trophies, powerful weapons, whisk cards, and magical gems, they were all neatly ordered in boxes and racks on the smuggler''s small caravan. "By all means," he gestured towards his menagerie, "inspect my wares, as long as you have the money."


    For such a fortune the payment could only be made in gold coins, the amount of metal required would become unwieldy otherwise, and the bandits procured a small treasure chest of currency.


    "We have someone for that." Harkness stated.


    The man was taken aback a bit by the harsh tone of voice. "S-sure."


    -


    Forward came Barbara, though an outcast in her own guild she went unrecognized by the outsider. She had given birth just a bit more than a week before and it already wasn''t noticeable anymore.


    Flanked by Huckabee she rifled through the contraband. "Real. Real. Well, it''s all real, but... aha," she held the box of magical gems upside down, pouring all of them out, "only the top layer is prime quality. That''s the first trick in the smuggler''s handbook. You''re lieing on your taxation."


    The man gritted his teeth, the bandits were supposed to be a bunch of brutes, but this person they''d taken along seemed to be like an experienced thieves'' guild member.


    "And here, oooooh," she wagged her finger, "this is a unique magical item. It''d be recognized even all the way in Eston, it''s hot!"


    "You''re cheating us." Harkness pressed through her lips.


    "It''s not that- I- I''ll adjust the price."


    Huckabee gave the goblin mother a grateful and supportive shoulder pat and the party set out.


    -


    "How did you know that?" Harkness asked Scratch, who had sat down on the front wagon while she drove the mule.


    "Know what?" He asked, while tuning the lute.


    "Knew to bring Barbara. That he would try to cheat us."


    "It stands to reason, doesn''t it? Fyro is losing his grip on you, he''d want to scare you off of doing your own business and strengthen a contact while doing it, that''s what I''d have done."


    Barbara joined the conversation. "So... Fyro writes a letter to this guy, tells him to sell you snake oil and then burns you when bring it to him? That''s devious."


    Scratch strummed the lute, "that''s the way you do it, money for nothing, chicks for free..." he hummed.


    The rest of the journey he continued to make music, the other goblins now marching freely beside the caravan sang along with him.


    On their path they passed the territory of other tribes with whom they had strong ties. The members of these families walked out to greet and look out for them as they passed by.


    For the bandits this was a surreal experience. The forest they had had to fight before now came to greet them as they passed. "We''ve joined the side of the monsters." One of the bandits whispered in Huckabee''s ear, but it didn''t sound all that bitter.


    -


    When the group arrived at the gully where they were supposed to meet Fyro the goblins had fallen back and retreated into the background again. Barbara had left the group completely, not to be recognized by him.


    "You''re late." Fyro growled.


    "Maybe you''re early." Huckabee blurted out, but he had his ribs nudged by his boss.


    "Take the contraband and get it over with." She stated.


    Fyro chuckled. "Not so fast. I can''t be sure you wild men know what you''re doing, I''m going to have George here check your registry for me.


    George, the sunburnt hick comforting their mule sprung up at the mention of his name. "Yessir, right away. Ma''am...?"


    But as he searched, checked, and double-checked, he couldn''t find any discrepancies.


    "S-sorry sir. It''s all appraised correctly. I- They re-evaluated the stock-"


    The thief boss looked furious. "Shut up! Give them the damn money."


    Some coins were removed from the jute bag to fit the new value of the caravan and the contraband changed hands.


    "Oh. And there''s one more thing, these are yours."


    The two dobermans and the people holding their leashes stepped forward. The dogs were well behaved and completely silent, but the short tanned man grasping at the collar was nervous around the large creatures.


    "Five strays. I had to kill the dog guy because of you, so now we''re flooded with homeless mutts and we''re handing them out to whoever and whatever."


    One of the human ''strays'' introduced himself. "My name is Aimone, this is Gildo and Audace. We are... exiles, just like you. From the republic."


    "I''m putting them all in your care." Fyro concluded. "You''ll find a place for them, they know how to fight."


    The two groups awkwardly shook hands. "There''s a place for everyone in our midst." Harkness stated.


    Fyro''s eyes narrowed. "Including highly trained monster trainers nobody has ever heard of."


    There fell a silence.


    "You tell me you and Beatty have founded a permanent settlement."


    "We have."


    "I would love to meet this person some day."


    "Maybe some day you will."


    There was palpable tension, one of the dogs started growling at the sensation of hostility. Then the two parties parted, one of them 5 members poorer, the other five members richer.


    "What is this settlement of yours called?" Gildo asked.


    "That''s a good question." Huckabee answered.


    <hr>


    Enchanting Magic


    Enchanting magic is rare, it is not a skill that can be polished by battle. There are no adventurer enchanters, and enchanting magic among nobles (other than for the creation of spellrods) is isolated to a handful of historical cases. Instead, magical items are usually created by non-humans.


    The magic techniques used in the creation of enchanted items are passed on by craftsmen as part of their craft. The great elven bowyers possess the secrets to creating spectral arrows, while dwarven smiths have the knowledge to enchant metal equipment. Magical gems are necessary components of enchanted items in all techniques.


    The simplest magical item is the infused instrument, such as used by bards. Other than these, magical items are very rarely used by adventurers of rank C or lower.


    As many magical items never lose their power or durability over time, the highest quality works throughout history have survived until the current day and are known as unique magical items. An adventurer carrying their own unique magical item will earn great prestige and have a high chance of being called a hero.

 Dogged

    In the middle of the night, when everyone else had gone to sleep, Scratch sat alone in front of the cave entrance.


    He was communing with Cyclophan, evil god of guile and trickery.


    You''re moving out my goblins.


    Am I?


    Yes, you''re spreading out the monsters over the countryside. But I need monsters in my dungeon to feed my magic.


    Humans don''t do the trick?


    You can''t replace them with bandits, bandits stay up top, they don''t live in the dungeon.


    Help me out here, because I thought I understood your situation until now. You want a funnel from the outside air to your crystal, and you can simply add to that pathway by digging a bit deeper, correct?


    Correct.


    But I can''t extend it the other way, by building a wall?


    Is that what you''re trying to do?


    Well, naturally it serves a dual purpose. It keeps out the hooligans too.


    In theory you''re correct, the wall directs the flow of magic too, just like the sides of the cave. But humans are stronger than goblins, that strems the flow. Normally, in a dungeon, monsters become stronger the deeper you go. Dungeon keepers usually organize them into levels because of that.


    These rules seem strange and arbitrary to me.


    It''s just the way of the world.


    -


    Scratch leaned back. So if I put something stronger than humans down here, that''ll make you happy?


    Yes. One big monster to guard the core. We call that a dungeon boss.


    I''m the boss.


    It''s just the name. You don''t even have to make friends with it, you could build a cage. The metal bars are working pretty well in the river.


    And the wolves aren''t good enough.


    After the most recent exchange with the thieves'' guild the tribe had taken home two large dogs from the disappeared kennel owner. They were well bred, strong enough for Cyclophan to ''evolve'' in what he called warg wolves. It had made them slightly bigger, with more fur and larger teeth.


    A warg wolf is about equal to a human peasant. But there''s only two and they run around on the surface most of the time.


    The canines, Nico and Bello as they had been named by their previous master, had been given a horse-skin mat next to the underground river. They only used it to sleep, and even that not every night.


    I''ll keep my eyes open. See if I spot any dragons hanging around.


    Don''t play games with me Scratch, you know that I only aid your purposes for as long as you continue to serve mine.


    Scratch took eagerly advantage of this opportunity to change the subject. Speaking off... what about those guido''s, ey? You know that''s what I wanted to get from you.


    If you mean the new bandits from the republic, you can rest easy. They''re not here to spy on you, they''re genuine outcasts, though they indeed are friendly with Fyro. Old acquantices from his younger days.


    You see, that doesn''t put me at ease at all. Informance doesn''t have to be explicit, if their loyalty to our rival is stronger than their loyalty to us, that makes them subversive agents.


    What are you going to do? Kick them out?


    Not yet. I might need an excuse to later. What about Harkness?


    She knows. She''s known for a long time. When a tamer tames a goblin, that doesn''t extend to its progeny, your ''Beatty'' character would have had to come and tame the newborn everytime a litter is birthed. On top of that, the amount of initiative you''re showing-


    "Damn." Scratch whispered under his breath. So she''s waiting for the optimal time to use it against me. No matter, we''ll come up with something.


    She still doesn''t know about me, or that trick you did pointing the adventurers to her.


    Of course not, all the evidence of that has been destroyed.


    Then our agenda for the coming weeks is full,* Scratch decided, *a vilage to build, a boss monster, managing bandits, controlling the tribes...


    About that. Why did you send out the captured adventurer?


    Brittany? She''s of more use there. The tree needs to be refilled, it''s right near the river so a warrior mother is a good fit to teach them how to fight.


    But won''t she escape?


    He laughed. Britt? Not a chance. Do you remember what she was like when we captured her? When you take away a person''s dignity, they crumble. We drip-feed them their dignity back, we can twist them into any shape we like. Brittany is dependent on the boys'' approval for self worth right now, and as long as the faces that put her in that state are there that won''t change. Plus, she has a family now, in the tree home she has status. Escaping would mean throwing away her new life. Nono, she isn''t going anywhere.* He put away his pipe, using the last vapors left in his lung to commune. *Good night, Cyclophan, dungeon keepers need their rest too.


    Don''t forget the dungeon boss.


    Yeah, yeah.


    <hr>


    The next day Linus was tending to the water purification when he was bothered by one of the newer bandits.


    Aimone wasn''t too fond of the water distillery. "Mannaggia, what are you doing to the water, huh?"


    "I... purifying it?" Linus was uncomfortable having a stranger yell at him so loudly.


    "Purifying, purifying, oh, Dower protect me. Metal and skins do not clean water, only magic can do that. Brother, you must come see this."


    Gildo, who had come to fetch him, was instead dragged into the conversation. "You do have magic, Aimone, can you not purify the water before you drink it? Basta, no problemo."


    "No problemo? There is a problem Gildo, there is no living in a place like this." He held his hands up, his fingers pressed together. "Why are the goblins handling the water? Before you know it, this whole place is taken by a plague, I tell you!"


    Linus cringed at the hard words, until Second came to his defense. "If you want water, take it and go back to your own side."


    "Que? This one is angry." Aimone remarked.


    "I did come to retrieve you, Aimone," Gildo mentioned, "it seems the ''highborn'' has some work for us."


    Aimone did not react to his words, he was still looking at Second. "Hasn''t your master taught you manners yet, subhuman? You live by our mercy."


    Although he did not seem poised to attack, Gildo put his arm over Aimone''s chest as if to hold him back. "Now is not the time to argue with monsters, brothers, let us be off and stay friendly with our new neighbours, eh?"


    Second fumed, he searched frantically for the perfect turn of phrase or insult to return the human''s disparaging remarks, but he could not think of anything as they walked off.


    -


    He still stood there, between the purifier and the well, when Scratch came by to have a drink.


    In his anger, he fell out against Scratch instead. "We''re not tamed! We''re not soup humans!"


    Scratch filled up his clay mug and took a slow sip. "You alright there, buddy?"


    "He said we''re filthy, and that we live by their mercy."


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Who did?"


    "He did. Aimone. He''d kill us if he felt like it, they all would! And we have to act nice-"


    Scratch had scooped up another mug of water and dumped it over Second''s head. Their hair had grown long after all these months, and it covered his face.


    "Bwah! Hey!"


    "That''s to cool you down. What did the fucker do, did he hurt you?"


    "He said we and our water were filthy."


    "Well, maybe he''s right."


    "Wha-"


    "Maybe if you weren''t so pre-occupied with feeling feelings, you''d pick something up."


    Second brushed his hair aside to look at his brother. "I''m supposed to learn from him!?"


    "You know who Aimone is? Huck told me, those three all come from a country of only canals, they teach everybody water magic. If there''s anybody that would know, it''s them."


    "So we just have to let him talk to us like that?"


    "Well jeez, if it isn''t too much damn trouble, yes please." Scratch answered sarcastically.


    "Or what, will we end up like Teeth!?"


    Now the goblin boss became angry. "Do you think you''re doing me a favor here? Just play nice with super-beings, it''s to your own benefit! Why are you like this?"


    Second looked away. "We worked hard on that purifier, and you''re saying it''s worth nothing, that we''re worth nothing."


    Then Scratch exhaled, forcefully returning himself to a calmer state. "You''re worth everything to me, Second. These humans, they''re important, because they''re our tools. But your lives are what we have the tools for, the goal, do you understand?"


    Second looked back at him with different eyes.


    Scratch went on. "This guy talks smack, and you''re going to endure it. Because by the end, we''ll have gotten our worth out of him, and we''ll dispose of him, right?"


    "Right."


    "Just be careful, diplomacy is like playing with fire. If you''re too careless, you''ll get burned. So, what will you do?"


    "Play nice."


    "Good boy." He ruffled the boy''s hair.


    Then he went off to follow the strangers to Harkness'' tent.


    <hr>


    After the bandits had made it their permanent residence, the construction in front of the cave had not stopped.


    Now that the walls and road stood, a lookout tower and a storehouse were being built. Luckily, a few of the humans knew how to build such large buildings, the other humans and the goblins simply followed their lead.


    Wooden frameworks were being lifted upright and secured together with materials commissioned from Fyro and his thieves'' guild, it was the last task to be done before it was time for a collective pause.


    -


    Quiet and Haruto had prepared snacks for all the workers, a significant portion of which were Barbara''s newborn spawn. They were trotting back and forth from the kitchen hut near the well to the construction site, carrying plates of rabbit meat and berries.


    They had to leave the snacks on top of the platform where the dogs couldn''t get at it. But one of them was determined to get at the succulent roasted rabbit, and tried to snatch it from their hands as they walked to and fro. The beasts had been dobermans before, large black dogs with considerable strength. But since their transformation they had become larger and more furry, tremendously scaring the timid Quiet.


    Fyro, the belligerent goblin, post-poned his ropemaking chore in orde to help the caterers, and bodyguarded them with a spear. "Bad. Go away. You have your own food."


    The animal was scared off by the pointy weapon, but it turned out to be cleverer than expected, because it laid a trap.


    -


    On the sixth trip back and forth, Haruto suddenly found his footing slip when he stepped into a hole filled with loose earth, the earthenware plate shattered on the ground and the contents fell off, in order to immediately be snatched up by the canine.


    "No-ooo!" Haruto whined at letting the dog steal the food, while Quiet helped him up.


    "What''s the matter?" Cobaline, the young human child who didn''t have much to occupy her time with, came rushing up to involve herself.


    "Bello dug a hole to make me drop the food."


    "Bad doggy!" She waved her finger at the dog, who let out a series of raspy pants before running off. It had sounded a lot like laughter.


    <hr>


    "I understand you know your way around a weapon." Harkness told the Grienicians.


    "Audace here used to be a conscript," Aimone answered for the group, "but we''ve all been in the wild for the six years."


    "That''s good." She was stroking the head of one of the dogs, Gildo couldn''t take his eyes off the creature. "We''ve taken heavy losses the past month. I need you to take up the job of guards."


    "You, ah, do much guarding yourself?" The man wanted to know.


    She raised an eyebrow, "among other things, yes."


    "Yeah, cause, see... Me an'' Audace were talkin''... Weren''t we Audace?"


    The third recruit slowly nodded his head.


    "And we said to each other, the Harkness cousins, they''re not knights anymore."


    "Hey-" Gildo interrupted.


    "Not now Gildo. Why should they sit back and have others do the work for them, you know?"


    "You''re challenging my leadership. After one day."


    "Yeah... Yeah, I guess I am challenging your leadership. What of it? Just because your mama or papa was some bigshot, that doesn-"


    Harkness stood up with an abrupt jerky motion, the power behind her movement silenced him. The dog she had been petting began to excitedly pace back and forth the tent, unsure of its loyalties. "Like it or not," she spoke, "I am the leader. And if you three want to be a part of this group, you''ll have to accept that."


    He gave a nervous laugh, but composed himself. "Why? You''ll send your guards after us? That''s us. You''re no highborn anymore, lady."


    Before he knew it she was in front of him, holding a blade to his throat. He had no idea where she''d pulled it out from. "You think my birth is a title?"


    He tried to slap her arm away, but she effortlessly evaded his attack and grabbed his wrist with the very same hand, turning it behind his back painfully to make him bend over. When Audace moved in to help his friend she kicked her leg high in the air, without letting go. Her foot she kept menacingly suspended in front of the man''s face.


    "You''re from Grienice, so I''ll let it slide one time. Here in the rest of the world, the position of our birth is not arbitrary. Fyro and I are of knightly blood, despite our current situation. This blood gives me power and responsibility. That''s why I''m the leader."


    -


    "Whoops! Walking into something private?" Scratch remarked as he and Huckabee entered the leader''s tent.


    "Boss... you wanted to see me?" Huckabee asked awkwardly.


    "Huckabee," Harkness returned to a more neutral stance and it go of the man, "I wanted to ask you to administer these new recruits. From now on, you three answer to Huckabee."


    When they didn''t answer she emphasized her point. "Isn''t that right?"


    "R-right." Aimone answered. They had been suitably intimidated.


    "Then you''ll be guarding the gate and patrolling the wall. Scratch, you told of a lookout post."


    "Eh," the goblin held his hand horizontally with the palm held down and wiggled it a bit, "it''ll be some time."


    "Then that''s that. Dismissed, soldiers." Harkness ordered.


    "Ah, one more thing." Scratch interrupted. "I wanted to be here when you''re all gathered together. There''s an issue I need to address."


    "By all means." The bandit leader invited him to speak.


    Aimone was incensed by this. "By all means? What blood does the goblin have tha-"


    "The goblin. Speaks for his Tamer." She insisted, as angry with him as he was with her. "Scratch, say what you have to say."


    "Yes... I understand you''re not happy with the water situation."


    Aimone looked at Harkness, gesturing quasi-politely to be allowed to speak. She gave him an equally polite gesture back, giving him the floor.


    "For us it''s fine," he said, "since we come from an educated democratic country, all of us have been educated with the magic to clean our water. But having this goblin filtered water spread through the camp is asking for trouble, some kind of disease is bound to break out."


    Huckabee took exception to that. "These goblins are more-"


    But Scratch waved away his comments. "No useless pride. We''d be eager to improve, how would you see water handled?"


    "Even small villages have water towers." Gildo mentioned. "That way the drinking water can be purified, with magic."


    "Pshaw. A water tower is just a water tower. As long as you keep dumping your *merda* right on the ground, your ground water will be filthy."


    "We''ve got the slimes, don''t we?" Scratch responded.


    "Ayai, slimes." Aimone swayed his upper body back and forth in his emotional response. "Slimes aren''t clean, are they? They just break down the filth, that green liquid, that''s manure, everyone knows that!"


    Gildo nodded. "What we need is a bonafide sewer, just like back home."


    "A sewer!?" Huckabee responded in shock. "This is the wild. You''re expecting water towers and underground plumbing?"


    "Well, why not?" Scratch asked. "We''ve got walls, crop fields, and a road. A water tower doesn''t sound too out of place, does it? You two seem to be the experts, I''ll put you right on it."


    "On it?"


    "Yes, Aimone, from now on you''re our minister of waterworks. I expect lots of good from you," he winked at Harkness, "in-between the guard duty of course."


    The Grienician looked at his bandit leader, "is he joking?"


    She shook her head with a bemused smirk. "He never is."


    -


    When the attendants of the meeting parted, they had much to think about, but Gildo kept interrupting Aimone''s thought process.


    "Did you see the dog? I think the dog was different."


    "Mannaggia, Gildo, what do I care about some dog?"


    "It looked like a wolf Aimone. That tamer, he was here last night."


    He threw up his hand in a dismissive gesture, but the words stuck in his mind.


    Who was Clyde Beatty, and why all the mystery?


    <hr>


    Since arriving in the cave, Nico''s mind had become exceptionally clear. He had loved his previous master, but he had never understood him, not really. The man had taught him to recognize certain sounds, "fetch", "down", "kill", and he''d respond to these commands by his master with the actions he knew were expected of him.


    But those were just sounds to him then, now they were something called words. He had sat with the lady all day, and listened to the people talking, slowly he was beginning to make out what they were saying.


    Bello was less curious, but the change had been the same. When before the two had communicated with simple barks and growls, now they could look in the other''s eyes and see their emotions, place themselves in the others position and understand him. While Nico had been observing the humans, Bello had been playing around, pranking goblins and stealing their food.


    When the evening came all the humans put themselves to sleep, but Nico woke up his brother to stalk the empty nights alone. In these solitary hours he tried to speak himself, to imitate the words of humans, but his throat was not suited to their sounds. "Fch, hwn, kww."


    Seeing his failed attempts Bello started panting with a raspier voice. Laughter. They had discovered humor after their transformation.


    Though they couldn''t speak, Nico tried to stare at Bello in an inquisitory manner, as if to ask ''do you understand what''s happening to us? Bello understood, and gave his answer by putting his paw over his mouth, he did not know either.


    Picking up on the smells of the forest, and the creatures there-in, Nico began to howl at it. And instinct he''d had his whole life, and one with meaning. ''Is anyone there? Anyone like me?''


    From deep in the wild came and answer, more howling. ''We are here, and we are like you.''


    Bello joined Nico''s howling, but the two were disrupted when someone threw a shoe at them. "Mannaggia! Stupid dogs! Go to sleep!"


    <hr>


    Demons


    Demons are ageless spirit creatures that inhabit the abyss and hell, there exist 777 species of demon, each wildly distinct from all the others. Demons desire only to do evil, to kill, corrupt, and betray, even if it goes against their own self-interest. For this reason they are trapped in the depths by the gods.


    Demons that have entered the higher planes have done so via dark magic. The summoning of demons is a vile act and a crime in all four realms. Demons will only truly co-operate with the vilest of summoners, those that try to use them for any other purpose than evil will find themselves quickly betrayed.


    The most evil of all thinking beings is the demon king. This is not an individual, but a title. On many occasions throughout history a champion of evil has been declared demon king and has set out to destroy the world. The demon king need not be a demon, but demonkind obeys them and marches in their name. In such cases, a hero is needed to destroy the demon king, which will dissolve the demon army.

 Visitors

    The minister of waterworks had the formal duty of planning all water related infrastructure.


    It wasn''t a serious position. The goblins were playing at being civilized, and the humans that needed them were expected to humor them. Under this reasoning Aimone dismissively and in few words layed out the policy proposal.


    "A round base, brick, with silver lining the inside."


    The goblin nodded with an earnest expression, while drawing the proposed water tower on the back of an old envelope.


    The two had been given what Scratch had referred to as a "conference room". An as of yet unoccupied storage room in a newly erected shack. The walls were thin planks and light poured in from an unfinished roof. It felt like hiding out in an unfinished house, which was exactly what it was. But it was better than the tribal mud huts in front of the cave. They sat on and around empty crates from smuggled wares.


    "And there''s an opening at the bottom for the water to be retrieved from. That''s it. Just a water tower." Aimone concluded.


    "I see." The goblin let his tongue out of his mind drawing the plan. "And the opening is to a basin for washing in."


    "No! You-!" He held in an angry outburst. "What do you think happens to the water if you leave it open, huh? This is useless, where''s your boss?"


    The goblin looked a little hurt, but responded to the question. "Uh, Scratch is feeding the birds."


    "Not the goblin! The- Never mind. Basta! Hand it over." He snatched the re-purposed paper and the charcoal out of the assistent''s hand and began to draw for him.


    The human''s drawing was a lot more lifelike, if less instructive. He incorporated perspective and shadows to sketch a pretty stone tower with a round base and decorative battlements. "Like this, see this? A faucet. The water will want to flow down, but you do not want it to, so you block it off until you need it. A. Fau. Cet. Every child knows this."


    "Oooh." The kid cooed with acceptance of the lesson and appreciation for the artwork.


    "Don''t blame Patrick too much." A women''s voice came from the door opening. "He *was* born yesterday. Or was it the day before?"


    The little Patrick held up three fingers.


    "Really?" She entered the room to stroke his head. "Time flies. Did Scratch put you two up to this?"


    "We''re a ministry." The goblin puffed up his chest. "Look, Aimone drew a water tower."


    Aimone leaned back and looked away. "We''re spending our time entertaining your spawn until we''re allowed to go back and live our lives again. Mannaggia."


    "And what''s so bad about that?" She wanted to know.


    He didn''t respond.


    She looked at the paper again. "I heard something about an underground sewer."


    Aimone waved his hand. "It can''t be done, not without earth magic."


    After that, they didn''t make much more progress. The instructions to the water tower were given to the construction teams late in the day, so that it couldn''t really be started until the next.


    <hr>


    "So... you guys from the republic?" Huckabee brought up tentatively.


    Audace slowly nodded.


    The two were strolling around the outside of the wall. Lately there had been complaints about wild animals, and they were drafted as scarecrows to scare them off.


    "I always wanted to visit Grienice as a kid." Huckabee stubbornly tried to invigorate some conversation. "They say the canals and aqueducts are the mightiest man-made structures in the world."


    "Yup..."


    There fell an awkward silence while the two slumped over the bright green grass.


    "You don''t talk much do you?"


    "Nope..."


    Huckabee sighed. It was troublesome having to work with these foreigners. He hadn''t had time to properly mourn his former colleagues when the guild staff attacked, and now he wasn''t quite sure how to do it. It was like the moment had past or something, Harkness certainly seemed to have forgotten them. No, that wasn''t fair, Harkness was always the stoic. Then again, Huckabee disagreed with himself for the third time in a single train of thought, she had been more emotive lately. In fact, she seemed outri-


    "Oof! Hey!" The large foreigner rudely interrupted Huckabee''s thought process by slapping his chest with the back of his hand. "What''s that for? You-"


    "Mira." The man pointed at a quadruped silhouette in the distance.


    "A wolf?"


    "Warg."


    Huckabee scratched the back of his head. Warg wolves meant trouble, where there was one, there were more, and they weren''t easily intimidated like normal beasts. If their population had really shrunk so much that the wargs thought it safe to attack, they could be in serious trouble.


    "Are there warg wolves where you''re from?" He whispered to Audace.


    "Everywhere."


    "Let''s back out and tell the boss."


    "Uh-huh."


    The two began to move towards the gate, keeping their eyes on the distant enemy. When the wolf eventually dashed away they turned around and started running.


    -


    Harkness wasn''t in her tent, but she wasn''t hard to find. In the middle of the town, between the platform and the mud huts, the goblins had cleared a large area and dumped a small mountain of wet clay on the ground. From this material they were sculpting brick. Large bricks, each the size of a dog. The bandit boss, along with several others, was observing.


    When the two had ran up to their leader, they were out of breath. Huckabee more so than Audace.


    Without looking at them she acknowledged their presence. "Have you seen this Huckabee? Goblins do everything without magic, fire, water, and now earth. When you think..." A fascinated smile visited her lips. Then she sobered up and turned to face them. "You''ve taken care of the animals have you."


    Huckabee panted. "No... Wargs...."


    "Wargs? Did you see them?"


    "Well... one."


    "I understand. I must discuss this with Scratch."


    Huckabee raised an eyebrow. "Why?"


    The question stumped her. "Why? Wha- He needs to know, wargs are a threat to all of us."


    "But why him specifically though?"


    "Because... because I just want to. You two, go stand guard at the gate, I don''t want any sneaking in."


    "And the other two?" Huckabee inquired.


    She looked over her shoulder. The minister of waterworks himself stood with rolled up sleeves between the goblins, having to manage them into sculpting the materials and cussing loudly all the while. His friend stood at the sidelines, highly amused. "Hold fast Aimone," he laughed, "envision the water tower when this is all over!"


    "Aimone is occupied," she said, "but I think Gildo has some time to be standing guard."


    <hr>


    Scratch was conferring with Barbara. They were having a discussion on smuggling partners.


    "The real problem are the messenger pigeons." She explained. "The bandits get theirs from Fyro, and to Fyro they will return when released."


    "So you can give me names, but you can''t give me contacts." Scratch sighed, exhaling a plume of smoke from his pipe.


    The two were seated in the underground cave. Barbara''s candlelight spell lit up the cavern in a clinical white light, softened by Scratch''s smoke. The dogs were laying by the gently rippling river, and the birds were strutting about on the fenced off hay that hid Cyclophan''s shard.


    "There has to be a way..." Barbara wrinkled her mind. She didn''t intend on living in a cave for the rest of her life. If she helped Scratch in his ambition, he would reward her with Eston''s thieves'' guild. But for that to happen, they needed to be independent of Fyro''s monopsony. She knew plenty of guild members that would be eager to go behind his back, but no way to make an agreement with them.


    "You''re persona non grata, Lydia and her boys can''t be seen anywhere near civilized society..." Scratch pondered, "maybe some adventurer... no."


    -


    As they were discussing their options they suddenly became aware of Quiet, who was hiding in the cavern entrance.


    "Uh, hey buddy. You got something for us?" Scratch asked him.


    Quiet nodded, and pointed to behind his back. "-wants to talk to y-"


    "What was that?"


    "Lady. The lady wants to..."


    Eventually Scratch gave up making the boy speak out loud. Quiet had picked up a nervous tick somewhere and would forever be a shrinking violet.


    The party climbed up the tunnel to meet Harkness at the foyer, the best looking room of the cave.


    -


    "Lydia. How is it going girl?" The goblin greeted her, his pipe still in hand.


    She came right to business. "I have grave news. My men have spotted warg wolves outside the perimeter."


    "Wargs?" Barbara scoffed. "So what? How do they rank among adventurers? E?"


    "That may be so, Barbara," the bandit leader explained patiently, "but my men are not adventurers, rank E or otherwise. Wargs are known for their pack tactics, they only come close to populations if they have the numbers to overtake them." She turned to the goblin. "What do you think?"


    He scratched his chin. "What would you have done if wargs had been spotted outside your camp, half a year ago?"


    She lowered herself on one of the pelts. "It''s hard to say, they''ve never done before. We would sometimes move if our territory became too dangerous, but wargs, they pursue... I suppose I would have urged Fyro to help us, perhaps through adventurer requests, perhaps by sending equipment."


    Scratch clasped his hands. "Then that''s what we will do!"


    "What?" Barbara reacted. "You said you wanted to be less dependent on Fyro, not more!"


    He shrugged. "You''ve got to pick your battles. We can focus on independence some more once we''ve avoided being torn apart by oversized canines."


    "I think it''s high time for the gate to get some doors in it." Barbara stated. "Wolves can''t climb after all." Then she had an epiphany. "Hey! What about this tamer person you told the others about. Warg wolves have got to be easy for someone like that, right?"


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Yeah, what about him..." Scratch puffed on his pipe pensively. "I don''t think Beatty will be in the region anytime soon."


    Between him an Harkness, both knew about the bluff. But neither was prepared to call the other out, so the lie remained in effect.


    In the end, a strongly worded plea to the thief leader was all they could muster.


    <hr>


    Warg wolves....


    Is this your doing?


    Not directly. You''ve got two of them running around in your camp, howling at the wild, it stands to reason that a passing pack would be curious.


    It stands to reason does it?! You could have warned me! Are the colonies in danger?


    Hhmm. That depends on how many there are. Wargs will feed on goblin tribes if wildlife runs out.


    Can you see where they are?


    No. Beasts are not my specialty. Rather than think about your empire project, concern yourself with my dungeon, this will be the fort protecting you from outside threats. I''ve almost drilled down into a new cavern.


    You didn''t set this up on purpose, did you?


    I have no need. All wildlife is a threat to you, building a dungeon to defend yourself is your only recourse.


    Scratch''s shoulders dropped. The evil god had strongly internalized his speech about dependency and was more confident than ever making demands.


    Can I make these wild creatures part of the dungeon then?


    You can try.


    No, I mean, will your dungeon magic pacify them like you did the geese?


    That... no. I told you before I have no power over any creature that''s protected by a god''s aegis.


    What? What god could a bunch of wolves ever be protected by?


    Who else? The god of beasts, Noruk.


    Just how many of these gods are there exactly?


    Good gods? Twelve. Evil gods? Innumerable.


    The dogs weren''t protected by any god. Are they not beasts?


    Dogs aren''t intelligent, they can not worship a god. Are these things not obvious to you?


    Of course they aren''t! Okay, okay. So these are intelligent wolves, does that mean they can be negotiated with?


    They can not speak, so...


    That''s not a concern to me. What matters is: what do they want? Food?


    That I do not know. Go find yourself a ranger if that''s what you want to know.


    A lot of help you are. Scratch dropped the pipe and went on to help with the brick sculpting effort.


    -


    Half a minute later he came running back and picked the still smoldering implement up. What do you mean "drilled down into a new cavern"? We didn''t discuss that.


    Currently in front of me are a number of underground veins. You''ve made the river a home, you can leave it like that. This new room will be much more suitable for a boss monster.


    I didn''t agree to more tunnels, the last one had a reptile that ate my nephew.


    A dungeon must grow. I will reward you by summoning demonic entities.


    "That''s the opposite of a reward!" Scratch blurted out loud.


    No more discussion. You''re my dungeon keeper, you must tend to my dungeon, not direct it.


    Scratch grumbled. It seemed like Cyclophan would continue to be no quite an ally and not quite an enemy.


    <hr>


    Aimone grumbled as he attempted to get the clay out from under his nails in the goblin''s basin.


    "Are we keeping you occupied?" Scratch asked as he walked up next to him.


    "Mannaggia! Digging in the dirt with goblins! I knew banditry would be low living, but this..."


    Scratch looked at the clear blue water in the homemade pool. "Did you use magic on this?"


    Aimone glanced up from his cleaning. "Si, so what?"


    "I would like for you to demonstrate the process for a bit, we''ve got a special location."


    Aimone''s hands dropped, "it is you who is really in charge here, is it not?"


    "I speak for the-"


    "Basta! No Beatty has been appointing anybody for anything, that was you."


    Scratch tapped the side of his nose. "You''re too clever for your own good, you know that? Is that why you were banished?"


    "Nah, blood feud."


    "I see... do you know what this place is?"


    Aimone looked around, taking it all in as if it was his first time looking at it. "A landfill?"


    Scratch shook his head. "This is Fyro''s work camp. Nobody has been able to leave the Eston bandit camp for more than a decade, other than by dying I mean. Did you know that?"


    Aimone scratched his stubble. He didn''t answer.


    "Recently more than half of all bandits died to adventurers. They''d been waiting to re-enter society for years, hoping with each month it''d be their last, until..." Scratch made a throat slitting sound and moved his thumb across his own throat.


    "And puts you in charge?" Aimone brought the conversation back to the original point with brutish directness.


    "That means Lydia and I have the same idea. No more blind allegiance. We''re making our own society now."


    "Mannaggia." Aimone stood up, shaking his hands to dry them. "If you want to defy your master, that''s fine by me. Heh, why not, we are free men. But I will not take responsibility for your actions."


    "Likewise. Come, our project is outside the gate."


    The two left, Aimone stepping ahead when Scratch was stopped by George, who gave him a questioning look.


    "Two reasons," Scratch whispered in response to the unspoken question, "first of all, I would rather admit some independence than all of it, the tamer''s fiction and all, and secondly, if the Grienicians are going to pick a side, I''d rather they do it soon. Before it can cause too much problems."


    "Be careful, Scratch, they''re larger than us..." George whispered back.


    "Hey," Scratch grasped him by the side of the head, "I saw your iron hoes. They''re really good. You''re shaping up to be a real blacksmith you know?"


    After the compliment the two parted again and Scratch hobbled after the human.


    -


    What he had wanted Aimone to see was a stone water trough, filled with unfiltered well water, that had been installed outside the perimeter, squarely in view of the developing watchtower. In front of the tub were some warm blankets taken without permission from the bandits, and above the assortment stood a log canopy to protect from rain and wind.


    "What is this?" The water mage wanted to know.


    "It''s our new dog home." Scratch declared.


    "Audace sees wolves and the first thing you want to do is make the dogs sleep outside?" Aimone put on a disgusted expression.


    "Not for our dogs, for the wolves."


    "Why."


    "Why not? I''m sure they''ll appreciate it."


    "They''re wolves."


    "Uhm... yes."


    Aimone put his hands over the water and closed his eyes. "Histolf''s gift." A green light emanated from his palms, permeated the water, and left it clear and pure.


    "Is this what you will be doing to the water tower?" Scratch asked.


    "Me and some others will use our magic routinely to fill the tower and purify it."


    "Doesn''t eat up your mana?"


    "It does. Though I find my mana replenishes quickly as of late."


    "But you will not have any left for combat magic."


    "...No."


    "Then clean water is a luxury we must forego in times of crisis."


    Aimone stared at the green earth in front of him. "If you would would properly dispose of all this merde, that wouldn''t concern me as much."


    <hr>


    The eldest suppressed her heavy breathing. She wanted to avoid alarming the pups by showing weakness.


    Their pack was barely twenty strong, and most of them were younglings.


    On her back she carried a biped. The only one kept by their community, the fact that she carried it marked her as strongest among them and the defacto leader.


    Yet over the past years, the creature had felt increasingly heavy.


    In these parts it seemed all turfs were occupied by untamed, feral bipeds. They stuck together, wielding sticks and throwing weapons in their hands, leaving precious little ground for nomadic warg wolves to spend the night. No safe place to drink water.


    For that reason, the pack had dangerously veered into the silent turf.


    There were no rules for what separated turfs, but it was intuitively obvious. A stream, a gulley, the trees changing species. When a turf smelled of foreign wolves, or off wild bipeds, then it wasn''t safe, not unless you had the numbers to scare them off.


    But the silent turf gave no intuition. There were no animal smells, or sounds. It was a large area of nothingness, only a faint smell of bipeds on the other side. Such a place scared them, they would say that Noruk had forbidden entry.


    -


    Eventually, she could no longer continue. A small clearing of soft grass had to do. Such places held an unobstructed view of possible intruders.


    She darted to the side towards the inviting spot, body languages was all the pack needed and they swerved to the side as if the place had been pointed out to them.


    When she reached the middle of the patch she leaned to a side to command the biped to dismount, then she trotted a circle to point out the spot as their home for the day.


    The pups began to smell at the soil, testing the dirt, and trying to find an optimal sleeping location.


    But an adult male approached her and began to speak. They didn''t usually employ speech, for everyday business body language and routine was enough. Only complex concepts required words.


    "This place is not safe." He growled.


    "I will protected you." It was a passive aggressive response at the questioning of her decision, but it was also true.


    "Will you protect us against thirst? Starvation?" He pressed on. "The silent turf is taboo. Nothing of value can be found here."


    She raised her head, signaling the biped to comb her graying fur and remove the accumulating mites. "We shall move on in the evening, when you''re rested."


    He barked. "Where will we go? To more dead lands!?"


    She jumped up and growled at him, throwing her little groomer to the ground. "Watch your throat, boy, before I rip it out!"


    Some of the others began to loudly whine, urging them to calm down.


    "There are others here." One of the younger ones mentioned. "At the circle of cut logs."


    "Enemies." The adult growled.


    "Survivors." The eldest insisted. "There must be food and shelter there."


    "There are bipeds there." Someone else said. "Two kinds."


    If they would have to deal with bipeds, then they''d prefer the small green kind. Those were weak and made for good servants, or food in a pinch. But the tall orange ones were stronger. At least they weren''t the long-eared kind, that so persistently hunted them.


    "We will find these two males, kill them or join them, and we will make these lands our home. That I promise." She said.


    A promise was sacred, and it pacified the pack. Now she only had to make it true.


    -


    That evening one of the pups was running up and down the clearing excitedly.


    "Man-things. I''ve seen them! Man-things! At the circle of cut logs!"


    "Are you certain?" Another asked. Man-things were similar to the long-eared bipeds, but frightfully more alien. They build things, structures, cages, fire...


    "It''s a trap!" An adult barked angrily. "You''ve let us into a trap!"


    "Nobody is trapped." The eldest scoffed. "You and I will go ahead, and we shall see for ourselves if the call of these strangers is a lure into the cages of men."


    -


    The sun had set when they approached the home of the man-things. It was an imposing wall of altered trees.


    Right in front of them stood a structure, an overhang of wood from which a freshly killed deer bungled. Behind that, clean water!


    "How obvious must bait be?" He scoffed.


    But she left the shelter of the tree and approached the gifts.


    "What are you-"


    She sniffed the colorful material on the ground and then stepped around it, extending her neck to lap up the water in the trough.


    She hadn''t realized how thirsty she was until she had started drinking. She forgot herself and landed with her front paws on the material. It was harmless.


    Eagerly she kept lapping up the liquid with her tongue, until her comrade joined in too. Only once they were sated did they look at the meat.


    "Shall we eat from it?" He suggested.


    "Better not," she warned, "if anything is trapped, it''s the meat. Poison."


    The younger wolf didn''t know what poison was, but he knew not to eat anything the elder warned of.


    The two stalked the surroundings, getting a clear image of the area. After a distance man-things could be seen, but they did not stray from their position. Guards.


    There was a patch of tilled earth, which man-things were known to leave behind. And a strong stench of overfed slimes.


    Other than that, the area outside the walls seemed safe, they went back to retrieve the rest.


    -


    The pups were eager to dance around the peculiar shed. They had never seen such a thing before.


    But they did not drink from the water until they had seen their leader partake, and innate wolves instinct.


    "What do you suppose this construction is for?" One of the pups asked.


    "The clean water could be bait, to convince us to eat poison meat," the eldest speculated, "or the water could be poisoned too, and all of us will die."


    The young creature made a concerned sound.


    "Or, these are gifts to a beast mightier than man-things. To appease him."


    "If that is so, eldest, I would like to believe it over the alternative, I propose that we do not linger. I do not wish to meet such a creature."


    "You have a sound mind youngling, let the biped quench its first after we have finished, then we shall retreat into the woods. The night is halfway finished, and we have not yet eaten."


    -


    It took three days for the wolves to try the meat. Three days of traveling back and forth between their hiding place and the shed to drink.


    Over that time they grew more hungry, as the silent turf was devoid of wildlife.


    The eldest, hiding the tithes of her age, and carrying the biped, collapsed one morning on the soft blankets.


    "Eldest, it is time to leave." A pup insisted.


    She panted, her limbs simply refusing to obey her. "I am sorry, little one, I have broken my promise to all of you. We will starve in this part of the world."


    "Do not say such a thing." The creature whined.


    "You-" the eldest turned her head to the dark skinned adult, her rival for leadership. "Take my biped. He should serve you well, as leader."


    The male shook his head morosely. "Your biped is worse off than you, eldest. It will starve before any of us. It is fitting that it should follow you to the afterlife, you''ve carried it all your life."


    The biped, though it could not speak, understood their words, lying beside the wolf it stroked her fur.


    The others were about to leave, bidding their leader a last farewell. When the servant reached up and sunk his teeth in the deer''s ankle. It drew stale blood, and he kept on biting and tearing at the opening until he managed to pry loose a piece of chewable skin. Then he sat down to munch on it.


    The wolves looked at the performance, stayed still for a moment, and then tore into the carcass all at the same time. The meat fell off its hook in their wild thrashing. They no longer cared about poison, when starvation was around the corner.


    Half an hour later, all of them were fed, though not full, and none were feeling the effects of poison.


    After that they came back every night, and were treated to a new carcass every night.


    After three more nights they had visitors. Long legged, short-snouted, and with pure black fur, but clearly warg wolves.


    The two creatures were darting around the area unconcerned, brushing up to the man-things at the other side of the circle without fear. When the pack came to pull down the meat the two sat down a few paces away to watch them.


    The eldest cautiously approached them. "Was it you that called out to us?"


    Both strangers tilted their heads.


    "Was this meat left here for you? We apologize, but we were nearing death."


    The wolves simply didn''t understand. One stood up and lowered the front of its body, its front legs stretched forwards. The other quickly copied it.


    "You... want to play?"


    Some of the pups copied the creatures and they began chasing each other.


    "They know body language, but they do not understand speech." Someone said.


    "They''re like pups," the eldest commented, "simple, stupid. What has been done to them?"


    <hr>


    Beast Magic


    Magic provided to humanity by the beast god Noruk is called beast magic. It is considered an advanced element.


    The shaman mages in the yellow wastes teach beast magic to mages that have mastered the fundamentals of earth magic.


    Beast magic allows the user to speak with animals, to control them, or how to change shape into an animal.


    Notable heroes in the past that used beast magic include Bjorn, the bloodroot hero, who regularly turned into a bear.

 Getting Along

    Harkness had been scouting the area.


    Her training as a knight allowed her to jump from tree to tree unseen, like a cat in the knight. The Harkness family had always practiced acrobatic combat and stealth, long before the adventurer''s guild had classified such a skillset as ''rogue''.


    A rogue''s skillset was still inferior to that of a ranger for the purposes of scouting and tracking, but she felt confident enough in her conclusions about the surrounding forests. In her treetop exploration she got a closer look than when they had raced through it towards the mine on horseback.


    Nothing lived here. There we no birds, no insects, and no squirrels. Only the occasional slime to clean out leaf piles and fill the goblins'' pit traps. Even the plants seemed sparse and weirdly bald, starved of sunlight beneath an open blue sky.


    There were no great packs of warg wolves roaming these lands. Beasts avoided it. The small group that had stalked the perimeter walls hadn''t been confident, but desperate. She had observed their movements from up high the previous nights, they had been intimately aware of their own weakness and had avoided the guards she had stationed at the gate. What had appeared as a captured morsel, the small goblin lifting along with the pack, was actually a warg rider.


    Her thoughts turned to Scratch''s dog house. It seemed clear to her that Scratch had ambitions to domesticate the warg wolves after having seen dogs, and the reports of a warg rider probably cemented the idea in his mind. "Let''s have a word with this rider," he''d responded. How could she explain what she knew? By what authority could she tell a goblin how goblins lived?


    Perhaps it was true after all. Perhaps warg riders did control the wargs on which they rode. All she knew was that no human trainer, save for those of the monster tamer bloodline, had ever managed to make the animals subservient. It was the understanding of all people that the warg riders were controlled by the wargs, rather than the other way around. The wolves would use goblin hands to open doors and remove traps so they could hunt humans more easily.


    -


    As she considered these questions she suddenly noticed a melodic song reverberating through the trees. Alarmed by the sudden presence of other life she froze up, and held herself still against the rough bark of an old pine.


    Underneath her ambulated a duo of adventurers. One a bard, playing a sad melody on an infused violin, the other a ranger, carrying a long stick with which to spring traps. Both were men.


    She briefly considered dealing with them herself, but she couldn''t be too sure of their capabilities. There wasn''t much reason for experienced adventurers to wander here, but their equipment seemed more expensive than that of a rookie, and she wouldn''t have any recourse should she attack an underestimated enemy with no allies near.


    The two seemed to be taking a direct route to the mine. She decided to follow them, since she had decided to head back anyway, and wanted to spy some more on the trespassers.


    She was able to stalk the two for minutes on end without being noticed, people rarely look up, and the sad string music drowned out the rustle of the leaves.


    Eventually one of the men began to talk, the ranger in front. "Ey, can''t you play sumthin'' nicer? Like a traveling song or whateva."


    The violinist gave a large theatrical sigh and put down his instrument. "This is the song of this forest, my dear. The trees speak to me in the form of music."


    "Oh yeah?" The two kept walking, as their conversation was just a means on end to pass the time. "What do they say, their momma die or sumthin''?"


    The bard began to play again. "All things are dying around here, this is a land gripped by darkness and fear. No coincidence, considering our holy mission."


    "What? Your goblin threw the lands into darkness?" The other scoffed.


    "If not the goblin, then something that works through it. You led us around the large nests, didn''t you dear? Those are not typical of level F territory at all."


    "Yeah?"


    "Yes. Our goddess of light would not mark for death a goblin if it wasn''t important."


    "Perhaps it is a trick, or a metaphor."


    "Pshaw, you''re mixing up your gods, dear."


    The subject of conversation began to interest Harkness. Benesant, the goddess of light was the chief god, the highest deity. She concerned herself with the vanquishing of demons and world-ending threats. If she had marked anyone for death that person could only be an enemy of good. Scratch was the one strengthening the goblin tribes with his knowledge sharing and trade, if he was an enemy of goodness itself then that would mean her entire troupe was conspiring with evil. She couldn''t even claim to have been deceived, though Scratch didn''t know it yet she had seen through the lie of him being a tamed monster some time ago and continued their cooperation due to faith in himself.


    She wanted to put the possibility out of her head. Goblins captured and raped peasant women, that was for self preservation. Many of the more powerful beasts killed people to feed on them, and those weren''t considered enemies of goodness itself, merely hazards. Besides, the goblins had shown willingness to compromise on that front. She felt that it while as rejects of society both goblins and bandits had to make hard choices, but those couldn''t be judged by the same standards as those of unpersecuted people. The idea that they had sinned so gravely that Benesant herself took an interest was absurd.


    But... the will of a god would have to be channeled through an exceptionally devout follower, like a priest. If these two believed they were on a holy mission from the goddess of light, they must have been sent on it by a cleric. Now that she thought about it, didn''t Scratch mention payments to Eston''s pastor as blackmail material to the guild staff?


    That had to be it, this whole thing was a political game of the thieves'' guild. Harkness was content at having found a justification not to change her ways. After all, she was finally starting to enjoy herself.


    <hr>


    "Yo, hablas inglais?" Scratch called out.


    He seemed to be the only one not noticing the threatening tension in the air. George and Biter were flanking his side, and further away Huckabee was keeping a watchful eye. Though goblins had bad intuition for danger, they could understand the low baritone rumbling emerging from the wolves'' throats. Nico and Bello, the dogs, had picked up on the hostility and took on protective stances in front of their masters.


    The one Scratch had tried to speak to was the feral goblin hiding out in the dog shed. It was a skinny young thing, visible ribs and in-set eyes. But seemingly in command of an impressive mute of hounds.


    "The meat is for the dogs. We would like to invite you inside for a warm meal." He turned to his guards, "does anybody know more orc words than me?"


    "Not for ''dogs''." George responded.


    Scratch tried some simple phrases they used to barter with former orc vassals, but the warg rider didn''t respond, only shrinking further back behind the construction.


    "He doesn''t understand." Biter commented.


    "Yeah, I got that, thanks."


    "Maybe he only speaks wolf."


    "''Speaks wolf?'' What are you talking about? That doesn-"


    Nico barked as it seemed like the graying wolf was about to make a sudden movement.


    "Let''s get back inside, this is pointless. When Lydia gets back we''ll wipe them out."


    He whistled at the dogs and the group began to retreat.


    "Why did we do this in the first place?" George wanted to know.


    "Appeasement. Peace. What-have-you." Scratch responded. "But now it seems like they''re not a threat and they''re not an opportunity, so we''ll revert to our default ''Em-Oh''."


    "Killing them." Biter hummed eagerly, gripping his weapon."


    "Yeah, when the nice lady with the magic fire powers comes back, buddy. Patience."


    -


    The wolves were satisfied after having scared off the goblins and went back to their meal with a bit more confidence in their claim over the area.


    The population kept a nervous eye on the wild animals while going about their business finishing off the buildings and maintaining their possessions.


    It wasn''t too long after that the bandit leader did return. The treeline ended before the town began, so she elegantly landed on the ground and walked the rest of the way.


    Huckabee, on guard at the gate, was there to greet her. "Boss! You''re back, the wolv-"


    "Get the goblin fighters at the gate Huckabee, there are adventurers coming."


    "R-right." He turned around to call upon the residents, leaving her at the gate with the other guard, Gildo.


    The bard and the ranger hadn''t such an intimate knowledge of the forest''s hills and slopes, so she had managed to get ahead of them, but they still arrived before the goblins had assembled.


    "Are they that fearsome?" Gildo asked, as the two became visible. The bard readying a violin, the ranger a longbow.


    "They got this far." She readied her knives. "That means they are not to be underestimated."


    "I see."


    -


    However, before clashing with the bandits, the adventurers made the decision to switch directions towards the wolf pack.


    "Take care of the beasts, honey, you know what happened last time," the bard sang as he strung his violin.


    The ranger, suddenly empowered by a magical note, fired off an arrow. The projectile flew farther than would otherwise be expected and hit a wolf before the pack had even taken noticed of them, killing it instantly.


    A chaotic scattering occurred among the canines, with some of them scampering off while three of them rushed straight at the attackers.


    The ranger managed to hit one in the leg, downing it and drawing a short sword for the clash with the others.


    The bard continued playing a painful discordant melody.


    While the wolves circled the adventurers, occasionally going in for a bit only to be forced back by the deadly swing of a blade, the goblins gathered at the gate.


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    There were ten goblins and five bandits, Harkness included. The goblins had lined up in a defensive shield wall, with spears poking from behind the shields. The guards were standing behind with cross bows, she stood in front with only her knives.


    "Looks like our two problems are taking care of each other." Said Scratch from between the horde of goblins. "We can just let them fight."


    "Or we can kill them right now." Aimone launched an arrow of pure ice at the scuffle. With its high speed and gentle arc it reached the enemies immediately, but right before hitting the ground it suddenly exploded into countless crystal shards.


    "Ah!" The bard yelled as is violin was struck out of his hands.


    "Ha! Bulls-eye." Aimone boasted.


    With the magical notes abruptly stopping the ranger''s movements slowed down, and the wolves seemed to find renewed strength. They pounced upon their enemy and had his throat ripped out in seconds.


    The bard dropped his violin bow and panickingly manifested a spell between his hands. "Stay back! Rhada''s-"


    But whatever he tried to do barely singed a wolf ear as it crushed his wrist between its jaws and he went down screaming in pain.


    Scratch gave the eager bandit an annoyed side glance, but the development was hardly cause for concern. "Fine then, let''s put down the animals ourselves. Lydia?"


    She looked at him. "They''ve been scared off Scratch, the oldest stayed behind to distract the enemy. They do that."


    He stood up straight and lowered his shield, breaking the formation. "You know what? I have an idea. Let''s just take these inside.


    "What!?" Aimone was incensed.


    "In a cage, in a cage." Scratch waved off his concerns.


    <hr>


    When the man-things had arrived the eldest had acted out of pure instinct. While the pups fled she rushed forward, forcing the beings to contend with her instead of chasing after the young ones.


    Almost immediately she was struck down. A pointed object shot through her front leg and she fell to the ground.


    A wound like this was certain death. A fear of the unknown gripped her as she lay there, panting heavily due to the pain. She stared at nothing in the distance as she could hear her pack mates fight ferociously for their lives. Then came a horrifying crashing sound and the fight went silent.


    Now she would have to wait. Until she bled out, succumbed to infection, or was picked apart by bottom feeders. Perhaps the man-things would take a shining to her pelt and kill her for it. Degrading as it may be, at least they would grant her a quick death.


    She did hear footsteps behind her, though in her current state she struggled to twist her head around far enough to see them.


    Standing between her and the enemy stood her biped. The creature hadn''t been taken along with the fleeing pack, instead of slinking away into the forest by itself it had chosen to defend its master. It produced a dry hiss from its mouth, in imitation of the wolves'' intimidation methods.


    The enemy wasn''t impressed. It produced sounds similar to that of a man-thing, though its smell was in-between that and the smell of a more tameable biped.


    Without much ceremony her pet was restrained and she was grabbed by several strong hands. She protested heavily and began to bite and scratch, but she could hardly resist them any more than the biped could.


    -


    When carried to the other side of the wall the adult wolves could strongly identify the smell of man-things. It had been masked by the smell of blood and excrement before, but up close the nature of the nest could not be ignored.


    "Kill me then!" She heard one of her comrades shout. "Kill me!" It was in vain, no creatures possessed the gift of speech other than the wargs, Noruk''s chosen. Though it was easy to sympathize with the need to vocalize one''s frustration.


    "Have patience." She meekly brought out. "Death is not known to drag its heels beyond one''s due."


    The male whined sadly in response.


    But death made them wait, as the man-things brought them to the inside of a larger construction. There they were locked beneath angular shapes, cubes with rows of bars instead of sides. The underground was lined with rough stone, with felt uncomfortable beneath her thinning fur.


    There they were, three of them, each in a different enclosure, the others pacing nervously, she waiting to bleed out. It was a dark and scary place to die, but at least it was warmer than outside.


    A good while later the man-things came back, this time taking with them one that smelled of incense and blood.


    The eldest was helped out of her cage, though firmly held down again.


    She growled as the man-thing touched her wound. It hesitated, but continued after a nod from the one-eyed biped.


    The thing tore out the object with a painful abruptness and then showered her leg in a healing glow. At once the pain subsided and her skin knitted back together, leaving a bald scar. Which they wrapped with a white fabric.


    Her pack''s own biped was let through to hug her, but then quickly separated as they shoved her back in the prison.


    They stayed in the building for a few more moments, observing the wolves, making noises at each other and pointing at things. Then they left.


    -


    The three wolves were kept there for two days.


    They were visited by the childlike pair, who were less friendly now that they had shown aggression against their friends.


    "What do you want!?" She demanded to know, when the strange wargs came sniffing into the space.


    One of them tilted its head at her words but did not respond. They went around the floor looking at the captured wolves in different angles and taking in their smell.


    "What is this place, and what do you want with us? Come on then, speak!" She became frustrated trying to get a response from the strangers.


    "Speak!" One barked back. "Speak! Speak!" It had no idea what the word meant.


    Around dusk they were fed, stone bowls containing residual meat and ones containing water were placed in front of each of them by the smaller bipeds. Their own was not among them and when she tried to communicate with these ones they just became scared. It was like they were feral, though better fed.


    The strangers received meals too, they were fed at the same time, right in front of them like a communal feeding.


    At night they would hear the howling of the younger pack members, most were grown but not fully mature and survival without their elders proved hard. They howled back, to let them know they were still alive.


    They would speak to each other during the day, but the peculiar staring of the man-tamed greenskins muted their speech into suspicious murmur.


    -


    After these two days the eldest was taken out of her prison.


    She expected to be killed and skinned, but instead was bound by a restricting collar around her neck and led around the camp.


    The person holding her leash was the strongest among the man-things, the female. Her grip was strong enough to prevent her from yanking free, but there were also others within smelling distance, keeping an eye on her, and she wasn''t led anywhere close to the more vulnerable of the residents.


    These walks became routine for each of them, though the hand that held the leash was eventually delegated to lower ranking members. It provided an opportunity to stretch their legs and catch fresh air, not to mention relieve themselves of the digested food when it had passed through their bodies. Though they could do without the mocking laughs of the child-like pair that ran around them unrestrained.


    Eventually, they saw the return of their own biped, who''s grooming she had gotten used to. The others had allowed it to resume its duties and it entered the cage, to the seeming amazement of the man-things and bipeds, to comb her fur and clean out the dirt.


    "Small thing. We are trapped in this place, you must find a way to undo us of these chains so that we may escape and rejoin our pack." She told him.


    The small thing looked her in the eye and cast down its eyes in deference.


    Despite their plans they grew used to their life. It was rare that they could enjoy such regular meals, and the lack of travel was a relief to her aging bones in particular.


    <hr>


    Scratch didn''t have the captured animals on his mind. He had left that process to Harkness and his nephews.


    The days leading up to the next appointment with the thieves'' guild he spend in the depths of the cave. He had recruited Second and George in some sort of digging project, for which they smelted and crafted iron equipment.


    After a few days Stanford, the healer, felt that he had to bring up the cumbersome beasts that Scratch himself had insisted they take in. He decided to use his status as Scratch''s "minister of agriculture" as an excuse to bring it up. Having given a managing role he had a place in the meeting that was planned ahead of the coming exchange.


    It was in Harkness'' tent that they convened.


    The bandit leader was there herself, to preside over the meeting. She took on an unusually casual attitude, leaning over her desk.


    Aimone, who had been worked half to death organizing a decent water tower, sat on the carpet.


    And Stanford himself was pacing up and down the tent opening.


    The goblin boss was making them wait. It gave a clear signal that he had other things to spend his time on, and that the time of the humans wasn''t necessarily as valuable. Either that or the childlike goblins had lost track of time.


    -


    "Stan the man!" The creature finally arrived, wiping his gravel stained hands on his equally discolored tunic. "How''re things?"


    "Ah, Scratch, we''ve been waiting for you, please come in." Stanford gestured inwards.


    "Oh, thank you very much." Scratch imitated his polite way of speaking in a theatrical and slightly hurtful manner.


    "Scratch!" Harkness'' face brightened up seeing him, and she stood straight up. "I think we can begin. Our next appointment is near the old ruins. I have prepared a map."


    On her desk lay a highly detailed map of the rivers and landmarks in the area. It stated ''Rank F'' very clearly in one corner. She had already marked their fledgeling town and the previous trade route on it with black ink.


    "Huh? Oh, about what''s our territory." Scratch said when glancing over the parchment. "I''m afraid we can''t expand right now, so we''ll have to track back and enter via our earlier route like this."


    "Like this?" She brought her fountain pen to the paper.


    "Yes, but I''d say: ''use a pencil for this one''. All we need is some women to take charge and all of this could be subdued." He gestured over the forest region on the paper.


    She put her implement away. "You''ve been asking for volunteers from my people for weeks."


    "Goblins are children," he explained, "the way to control them is to give them a parent. That''s why I need mothers for these places, to install civilized families and prevent brats from claiming them."


    "But who would sell their body like that?" She asked.


    He didn''t seem to get the intent behind her question. "If the price is high enough, who wouldn''t? We just need to demonstrate the benefits a bit better."


    -


    After that they pressured the Grienician a bit to talk about his department of waterworks.


    "Si, it''s done. A water tower." He sighed.


    "I saw it when coming over here," Scratch responded, "but is it functional?"


    "It keeps the water in. We clean the water. What else is there for it to do? It''s functional."


    "Now then!" He smacked the larger man''s back. "You must be proud!"


    "Pshaw. A week of working clay, building scaffolding, mixing actual cement." He spat. "And all we got is a tiny stump."


    "Just imagine how much harder it would''ve been without Barbara lending you all those goblins."


    That didn''t cheer him up. "This is no living. No mages, no guild workers. We eat what we catch like animals."


    Scratch put his hands on his hips. "Okay," he sighed, "let me show you something."


    He gestured for all of them to come outside.


    "Your perspective is a bit better than mine, with the extra height. But just take a step back and look at it, you know what I call that?"


    In front of them was the platform, around which a paved road led to the newest constructions. Two long rectangular buildings flanked either side of the path, thing-walled barns with sloped thatch roofs that housed various wares and some cages. Behind the top of one of them the completed water tower was visible, a stone brick cone just less than two stories tall. The top was open and the decorative battlements in the design had never been added. The road continued and tapered off beyond that, towards where the goblin huts and forge produced thin strands of smoke.


    "Because I call that a skyline baby!" The goblin boasted. "Soon we''ll be erecting housing, and we''ll be a real town. Well, not soon, but..."


    "Mannagia. Forget houses." Aimone grunted. "We need sewers, or at least a real river to take away all this filth."


    Scratch chuckled knowingly. "We''re working on it."


    -


    It seemed like the others thought the meeting was adjourned, but Stanford held them back with his own agenda. "Ma''am. The warg wolves."


    She nodded in understanding. "Scratch. The wolves we''ve been grooming and feeding. Did you have any plans for them?"


    He had to think for a moment. "No. I mean, if Pantajo didn''t have anything to offer, I suppose we can call it a failed experiment."


    "Pantajo?"


    "Yes, you know, he came with the dogs? Didn''t have a name so I gave him one."


    "We haven''t spoken with any Pantajo." Stanford commented.


    "We''ll do that first. If, after that, we still don''t see any way to work with his animals, we bury the lot of them. Sound fair?"


    Harkness shook her head. "You can''t train warg wolves Scratch, it''s impossible."


    He narrowed his eye. "How''re Nico and Bello? Well behaved?"


    "Uhm, sure? We had to discipline Bello in the beginning, but they''ve been good boys."


    "I think it''s very possible Lydia. I have faith in us."


    <hr>


    Grienice


    Faction: Grienice


    Size: A


    Level: S


    The city state of Grienice makes up one of the four realms by itself. It sustains itself via trade with the other countries and the cultivation of expert craftmanship within its academies.


    Several centuries ago the people of Grience were ruled by a corrupt and degenerate noble class, under the leadership of the Lily hero, Augustine, they rebelled and overthrew their masters. Ever since the state has had a system of radical equality. No feudal lords and knights protect this city, all warriors are conscripts or mercenaries, and the ruler of the nation is chosen via a national election every four years.


    Grienice is most renown for its mighty aquaducts, build by the Grienice family in times of the monarchy. These mighty constructs carry even large freight ships over the populated streets below. It is because of these auqaducts that the transport of goods inside the city is so easy, and why it continues to exist as a mighty trading nation.


    Within Grienice stands the magic academy for water magic, which allows entry to anyone regardless of birth. Its citizens usually have affinity for water magic.


    Because of its size, Grienice has many adventurer''s guildhouses within its walls. Monster activity within its sewers and abandoned buildings provides enough challenge to build up a steady demand for them.


    Crafting guilds in Grienice are highly esteemed institutions, with strict hierarchies. The wares coming from this city are of utmost quality.


    Thieves'' guild activity is endemic to the city, and some districts are populated exclusively by members.

 Taming of the Shrew

    Cyclophan''s stubbornness made demands of the goblins.


    When the crystal dug further into the yielding stone it dove headfirst into a current of rushing water. A special task force handling newly developed and specialized tools had to widen the opening and divert the flow so it didn''t pour into the cave and escape through the other riverbed.


    The task took up manpower and had distracted Scratch from the issue with the wolves, but Cyclophan insisted on the benefits. The other river came from the surface and joined with the one they knew to pour out from a cliff into the sea, so it did not form an entry point for dangerous subterranean monsters. Additionally, the uncovering of this waterway had exposed to them a great deal of rock wall on which pockets of minable material could be seen, most crucially a large deposit of gold, which glistened through the clear water right in front of the new opening.


    Mining these generous gifts posed an engineering challenge. The water current wasn''t particularly strong, but their bodies were light and the presence of water itself was a detriment to the confident swing of a pickaxe.


    With ropes, sticks, and leverage they managed to reposition Cyclophan''s shard, so that its drilling nose pointed upstream. This way, its continued digging would widen the space for the water to flow, at least upstream. Downstream they had to do this by hand.


    Even though the room was still quite narrow and full of water, they could chip away some of the gold nuggets with hammer and chisel, where pickaxes were inconvenient.


    -


    All together there were multiple benefits to be wrought. Cyclophan gained more dungeon to focus his arcane flows, the goblins had access to more valuable materials that they used in their interaction with humans, and a tunnel was being dug that could one day be used as a sewer.


    This last point Scratch kept to himself. He had the suspicion that the evil god would object to being used for such a purpose, so he hadn''t made any absolute statements on the reason for the chosen direction, thinking the being would be able to discern them as lies.


    He had discussed the direction of the dungeon with Cyclophan through the blue grass communion, in which Cyclophan had mostly been adamant to remind him to build a grate in the cliff wall. Such a thing would function as a door to prevent the now rushing flow of magic from leaking out, apparently.


    -


    It wasn''t until he had the meeting with the bandits that Scratch remembered to check with the feral child Pentajo, that had been raised by wolves. In order to determine a future for the creatures.


    <hr>


    Pentajo had been adopted among the youngest generation of goblins. Just like them he was a blank slate that needed to be taught everything, including how to speak.


    The goblin mother, Barbara, kept a distrustful eye on the stranger, but let him join in the business of her own children.


    With the older goblins increasingly put onto specialized tasks, it came down to the young ones to fulfill household chores such as cleaning, sewing, and caring for the animals. They learned how to do these things while doing them, and about other things, such as reading, numbers, and human society, with special lessons given at the end or beginning of the day.


    Scratch had stopped personally imparting knowledge, and had delegated that task to the crippled Linus, who also led the morning meditation when the boss was preoccupied.


    -


    The day Scratch came back to interview the creature he was scraping a fox pelt with a sharp rock.


    All of them were working together to create a fur coat for Barbara. Scratch encouraged this kind of extravagance, since it demonstrated the perks of being a goblin mother to the bandit women.


    "Hey there fellas," Scratch ruffled the hair of one of his nephews, "I''ll be borrowing the wolf kid for a moment."


    Pentajo didn''t realize they were talking about him, and went on with his task with single-minded obliviousness. Someone pulled on his hair to get his attention.


    "Pentajo! Hi, come with me." Scratch gestured for him to leave the workplace, and they walked to the log seats around the fire pit. Pentajo, Scratch, and Mac as backup, to help seem more friendly.


    Scratch draped himself over the seat and began talking at the guest. "You''re having a good time? Learned any new words?"


    "I... know words. Yes."


    "And are you happy?"


    "Ha..?"


    "Do you you like it here? The clothes, the food, daily cleaning..."


    Pentajo looked down at his new tunic, covered a bit more than a loincloth, and it smelled a lot better. "Yes... I like. I like a lot."


    "Let me get down to business Pentajo, the wolves."


    The wolf boy didn''t say anything, he looked expectingly at the goblin boss.


    "How do you ride wolves?" Mac clarified.


    Scratch leaned forward. "We need to know the way to control them, otherwise we can''t keep them here."


    Pentajo shook his head violently. "No control. Wolf is..." he tried to come up with a fitting term, "wolf is boss."


    "Wolf is boss? What does that mean?" Scratch grunted in annoyance.


    "Pentajo cleans the fur of the wolves, I think they keep a goblin around as helper." Second posited.


    "Ugh, Lydia was right then. This all is a waste of time." Scratch stood up. "Either skin them or throw them out, whichever causes less trouble."


    At these words Pentajo began to panic. "No skin. Let free. Wolves say nothing here for them, will flee and not come back!"


    The two paused. "The wolves... say that?" Mac asked incredulously.


    "These bosses of yours can talk?" Scratch added.


    Pentajo looked down at the ground. "Can not talk back. Goblin can''t say wolf words."


    "Pentajo...." Mac said hesitantly, looking back and forth between him and Scratch, "could you show me what wolf words sound like?"


    -


    The wolves stayed on for just a few days more, while the goblins found a way to communicate with them.


    Imitating the grunts of orcs was painful, but the subtle howls and barks of wolves was impossible. But by now, they had fully internalized the method of using tools to achieve what their bodies couldn''t.


    A variety of wooden whistles and flutes saw the inside of the building where the cages where. Second and Yuki were removed from the mining team to develop howling tools.


    They could only properly observe the natural conversation between the canines when Pentajo was there to calm the creatures, while listening to these sounds they quickly learned to understand the language for themselves.


    Eventually a horn that made use of a vibrating iron lip to imitate the hoarse barking sound made the first few words that were comprehensible to the wolves.


    Pentajo was allowed to attempt communication with his masters. "We... Can... Speak."


    "What is this?" One of the males grunted. "Words?"


    "That is impossible." The eldest responded. "They''re just... imitating our voices." She sounded less sure at the end of the sentence.


    "Must... Serve... Bipeds." Pentajo tried to plead with them to see them out of their constraints. Though there was no room for intonation with the instrument.


    The words were clear enough to take away all doubt. The goblin spoke their language. They also greatly aggrieved the eldest wolf.


    "How dare you! Betrayal! You tell your new friends that we would rather die than be a slave to them."


    Pentajo''s eyes shot full of tears at the hostility between them, and he ran out.


    There were some improvements to the device after that, allowing full and clear sentences in the warg languages. But inter-species relations remained cold.


    Cyclophan later offered a brief hypothetical as if it was advice. If only the wargs didn''t have the blessing of their god, I could mellow them out. They''re still beasts after all. Scratch, if one of them denounces their god they''ll lose their blessing and I will be able to influence their mind and body.


    <hr>


    The core business of the goblin and bandit village was the trade of illicit merchandise through the monstrous forest.


    They would take the contraband from one end of the forest to the other, and then take home vital living requirements that their employer had provided. It was becoming more pressing now to have access to these jobs, the bandits had lost most of their possessions and livestock and relied on the hunt and dried food rations to survive.


    The goblins were wasting meat on games with wolves, and the flour and beans in storage were running out. The bandits were hungry and eagerly looking forward to the spoils of the next mission.


    -


    Having been alerted in advance of a new caravan, the troupe now set out with their own wagons. The supplier was a merchant from the north that would like to hang on to his own transportation, thank you very much.


    Once again, Barbara, a former thieves'' guild member, was there to inspect the wares. It didn''t seem like there was anything untoward going on with the crates of bottles and flasks, but when she noticed a significant number of alchemical ingredients she became visibly excited.


    When the bandits were on their way, she shared the cause of her excitement with the bandit leader.


    Harkness was guarding the rear, the other bandit combatants were spread out around the procession, so the Grienicians were outside of earshot.


    "Okay..." she began, "...remember how we need allies in the city, but we can''t get into contact with anyone?"


    Harkness side-eyed her. "Yes?"


    "I have been away from Eston for longer than I''ve been a part of it now. But I know how to make connections, the thieves'' guild associate dealing with alchemical processes is old Minster''s assistant. I know him."


    Harkness nodded, looking straight ahead. "Then to convince this person to go through us directly."


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "That''s right." Barbara smiled smugly. "Fyro, that damn posh bastard-"


    "Do you know his name?" Harkness, herself of a noble lineage, interrupted.


    "Uhm... it slipped my mind. But we can leave a note with the supplies. A meeting place, where we exchange birds, make plans for the future."


    The bandit leader suppressed a sigh by clenching her jaw. This overly optimistic ambition had been the cause of all of the peasant woman''s troubles, even if she didn''t recognize it.


    "Why not." She said eventually. "No harm in trying."


    -


    While the humans guarded the goods, the goblins met up with family and friends from the allied tribes. When they passed the tree tribe, Brittany herself was there to observe, along with many of the new members.


    She stood over her smaller minions like an exalted overlord. They had dressed her in the finest furs and stolen clothing they had and deferred to her slavishly. It wasn''t until she nodded that her goblins mixed with the visitors to share stories.


    "The lady treating you fair?" Scratch asked Runt, who he had installed as the puppet leader.


    "Brittany is our fairest prize." The goblin responded, his vocabulary had improved maximally under the guide of a human. "Her sons are strong arms for our nest, and the fortifications have protected us against all beasts of the wild."


    "Your fairest prize!" Scratch laughed heartily. "I like that. Well said. A few more of those prizes and the whole forest is in our- I mean under control."


    But when he spoke to his own sibling, Kicker, he pressed a less optimistic issue. "No tensions I hope. If history tells us anything is that the mother will like her sons more than the ones that gave them to her." He whispered under his breath.


    "If that happens, do we side with Runt?" Kicker asked, just as quietly.


    "Side with the tribe. We don''t want the mother to leave, but we don''t want to lose the ground either."


    -


    The scheming and planning for eventualities was not apparent to the bandits.


    Barbara had excused herself to catch up with Brittany and Harkness stood alone. To her it seemed like a classroom of young children laughing and playing with each other.


    "The slave women are looking well fed, while we chew on wild game and Fyro''s rations." Aimone was speaking to Gildo, but she stood close enough to overhear their conversation.


    "Makes you think why they''re not all banging at one-eye''s door, ey?" Gildo dug his finger into his nose. "If they get treated so well."


    "Mannagia, stupido. Who would make that trade? Brood sow for food. They''d rather starve."


    "We''ve been invited to many times." Harkness added. "Scratch has propositioned all bandit women to become mothers to these tribes."


    "Even you?" Aimone asked incredulously.


    "...No. Not me personally." She hadn''t thought about it before.


    "You know what I think?" Gildo finally stopped digging into his nose. "I think he only needs one to set an example. Once it''s someone you know making the deal, it doesn''t seem like a big deal anymore. And you get to wear mink."


    Aimone flicked his ear. "How rude to say to a lady!"


    But Harkness wasn''t offended. She thought deeply about the words.


    <hr>


    The words were no longer on her mind when she met with the thieves guild that same day.


    There was animosity between the Harkness cousins. But each needed the other.


    Lydia said as little as possible and simply stood aside while the subordinate thieves unloaded the carts.


    Fyro instead spoke as much as possible. "Have you been enjoying your time amongst goblins? Maybe you have. We brought soap like you said you needed, but I suppose we''re not a family anymore are we? We''re trading partners now."


    The thieves, who could no longer rely on free labour from the bandits, and had to buy the contraband from them directly, had been charging the forest inhabitants for their food and hygiene instead. This time the former knight had brought a larger and more varied supply than normal. He had also increased the price.


    His allies wouldn''t starve under these prices, but they''d feel the drain on their resources in an already vulnerable time. And the number of options dangled in front of them many things that they could not afford.


    Crates of dried fruit and meat, enough to feed the humans comfortably for at least a month by themselves. Soaps, shampoos, and toothpaste. Even some low quality magical gemstones for spell functions.


    Lydia furrowed her brow at this luxury, normal for the average citizen, out of reach for those in their position.


    "Only take what you can afford of course." Fyro spoke smugly. "The soap is nice, but you wouldn''t want your vanity to get in the way of feeding your people, would you?"


    "Let''s just take all of it." Scratch hopped on to the scene, trying to walk while simultaneously retrieving something from a satchel at his waist.


    Fyro wrinkled his nose at the sight of the one-eyed goblin with the missing teeth. "Do you even understand what we''re talking about."


    "Do you?" Scratch retorted un-eloquently, he dumped the freshly hewn gold nuggets on the ground.


    The thief raised his eyebrows at the riches.


    "We do live in a gold mine, but that doesn''t mean these are like pebbles to me. I know that you''re skimming us, the question is why."


    "I can''t measure this, we don''t have a scale." Fyro stated, referring to the coin value of the metal.


    "We do." Lydia responded.


    Scratch continued without pause. "Is it because we don''t have any other fence? But you don''t have any other smugglers, how about we take this food and take a vacation for the next month or two, would that gel with your plans?"


    "Does this goblin speak for you?" Fyro asked angrily.


    "He''s a co-founder." Lydia was happy to see the little creature rile up her cousin so easily.


    What he said was true. The bandits had the ability to hurt Fyro as well. They could stop smuggling for as long as their supplies lasted, a bit like coming out on strike. This would break the short term promises and contracts Fyro had made with his trading partners and diminishing his respect within the guild.


    "But you''re a smart guy, you would know that." Scratch waved the thought away. "You must have an alternative, someone else to do your dirty work... do you?" He looked up, staring straight into the former knight''s eyes. "Are you a good bluffer, Fyro?"


    In an angry huff Fyro turned around, not to have to look into Scratch''s one piercing eye. "The price stays were it is, go on then, weigh the damn gold."


    -


    When they had determined the value of the nuggets, the bandits actually received some change.


    Fyro''s subordinates weren''t at all as emotionally invested in the exchange as he was, and helpfully loaded the supplies into the bandit''s caravan.


    "Was that wise?" The bandit leader asked the goblin boss.


    "Fyro and I are just playing, we both know- O, uh, Beatty won''t miss a couple of gold nuggets if it stays between us."


    She gazed at the profile of face. "Are you not afraid your mine will catch the eyes of others?"


    He gave her a quick glance. "Barbara told me you two have found an ''in'' into a better partner, is that true?"


    She sighed. "That''s what she says..."


    <hr>


    Back in town the humans were overjoyed with the unusual wealth. It was enough to make them forget the days of hardship before, when Scratch''s mismanagement had made them go hungry.


    "Och, bath oils." Denise exclaimed, picking up a flask from one of the crates being unloaded. "That takes me back, as a young lass I used to love the vanilla smelling ones." She then sighed, "that makes wish we had a hot spring hereabouts."


    Aimone frowned, "you''ve not seen bath oils since you were a child? You couldn''t have been that deprived for forty years."


    "Thirty," she pressed, "and bath oils are a luxury in the first place. We live in tents."


    "What is it? What does it do?" Her young daughter asked.


    Cobaline had been born in exile, the luxuries of civilization were foreign to her.


    "It''s for bathing with. It''ll make you feel and smell nice, very expensive." The mother tried to explain.


    Harkness appeared next to them, she had a tendency to move without pushing the air out in front of her. "We wouldn''t have been able to afford it without a donation from the goblins."


    "The resources of the town belong to all of us!" Scratch''s voice called out from somewhere, "we''ll be using the supplies as well. Primarily..."


    He burst out from the bottom of a crate, holding up a jute sack of grains. "This!"


    "That is chicken feed." Harkness remarked.


    Cobaline giggled. "You can''t eat that!"


    "I know that. It''s for our chicken... -adjacent birds that we have."


    "You''ve got chickens?" Cobaline was surprised.


    "You think we got our eggs from the seven-eleven? Lydia, you''ve seen them."


    The bandit leader nodded. "They keep captured monsters at the bottom of the cave."


    Aimone clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Some people would call that a dungeon."


    Then Scratch realized he may have said too much. "It''s just a chicken coop, like you don''t have any of those."


    -


    That evening the denizens of the fledgeling town ceased their work and came together to enjoy the spoils.


    Drinks were poured from carafes of wine, fruits and candies were consumed, and music was played.


    The lute, harp, and flute that the goblins had stolen from adventurers and homemade drums from wood and animal skin were enough to come together as a fully fledged orchestra. They perched themselves on top of the platform and played a random medley of tunes. It was chaotic and directionless, but the chords agreed with each other and it made for suitable accompaniment to a night of revelry.


    At one point Scratch, already slightly inebriated, climbed up to the platform and began speaking without filter.


    "Thank you everyone! We''re having a great time tonight, and we''ve been having a great time all week. I would like to thank our ministers of agriculture and waterworks, everybody clap!"


    He began clapping, it was mostly other goblins that followed his directions and erupted into applause.


    "And let''s not forget all the hard workers making our roads and buildings," he continued, "our tools, our metals, hunting food, keeping us safe..."


    He put together humans and goblins as one in those last lines.


    "But most of all, I would like to toast to mothers!"


    "Oh no." Somebody groaned in the audience.


    "Because it is because of our mothers that... uh... Well, that we''re here at all. You all know Barbara, today we met Brittany on the road. These are brave women, mothers to goblins. It is by their guidance that we shape our society. Barbara, stand up, some applause for Barbara please."


    The display was awkward, but the enthusiasm of the goblins made it feel like a real celebration.


    "We need more like you Barbara!" Scratch called out. "I implore all of you women out there. Pick up the mantle, you won''t regret it."


    It wasn''t the first time Scratch had advertised to the bandit women the benefits of becoming a matriarch in one of the satellite tribes. This time, Lydia Harkness made a decision.


    -


    When the music had stopped and most had gone to bed, she crouched down next to the goblin boss while he was admiring the newly finished watchtower.


    "It''s coming along very well," he remarked, "it gets uneasy between us sometimes, but I think together we''re stronger."


    "We owe much to the goblins as well." She answered.


    "That''s what I meant."


    Unprompted, she brushed his hair with her hand.


    "What are you doing?"


    "Your hair, it''s getting longer, do you want me to wash it for you?"


    If you was surprised by her proposal he didn''t show it, and she led him into her personal tent, where she kept a bucket of water for washing purposes.


    "Sit here, like this, and take off your shirt." She instructed.


    His tunic was the only piece of clothing he wore. She felt a brief pang of guilt, as she was about to indulge in her worst instincts.


    "Shampoo was an invention by the Sunflower hero," she mentioned as she soaked his hair with water and some droplets of the fragrant emulsion, "a champion of our nation that brought abundance and prosperity to a starving people."


    "Is that so?" He didn''t show much interest.


    "Our civilization is build by heroes. Special people that elevate society with their ability. We revere and love our heroes."


    He didn''t say anything.


    "Scratch. I have fallen in love with you." She kissed his neck.


    He tensed up, "what are you doing?"


    "I''m taking up your offer, Scratch, I want to make a family with you. Not with a tribe, but with you."


    "I-" He did not see a rational reason to refuse.


    That night they laid together. More as bonding lovers than to breed.


    <hr>


    "We have fed you and healed you. Why do you denounce us still?" The goblin spoke through the horn, in order for the wolves to understand.


    The one speaking was not Pentajo, but Mac, who had since learned their language better than his own.


    "I care not for your food, beast!" The eldest wolf barked. "I may be old and nearing death, but I would rather die to the crows than live as a servant."


    The other captured growled a bit to affirm her point.


    The goblins spoke amongst each other, and Mac returned to the horn. "Then we shall set you free and be burdened by you no more. But you will not die to the crows."


    The wolves looked at one another, the distrust for the goblins clearly displayed in their body language.


    "We shall grant you a gift of youth, so that you may lead your pack for many more years, whether it is here or in the wild beyond."


    "I am wary of your gifts, biped, but I will accept your terms for our freedom."


    -


    Without human help this time, the goblins dragged the eldest warg wolf with them on a leash. She was more compliant this time, as it was part of a deal to see her and her kin freed.


    The path led into cave, through the wooden foyer, down the hewn staircase, through the hall and down a hole into the open space with the underground river.


    The wolf and the geese were immediately disagreeable with each other, making loud noises.


    "Silence!" The horn barked. "You, pack leader, do you wish for life over death?"


    "I do." She responded, eager to get the formalities over with.


    "Then you denounce the gods that bind you to your short-lived form."


    "I suppose."


    "Say it, say that you denounce Noruk."


    She hesitated. You were not supposed to denounce your patron deity, every warg pup was anointed with Noruk''s blessing upon their birth. But she never knew what this blessing was actually supposed to do. Looking at her life so far, it couldn''t have amounted to much. "I do. If it grants me life, I denounce Noruk."


    Suddenly the shadows in the cave became starker, stretching out as snake-like demons. For a split second she felt an intense fear, then she became unnaturally calm.


    The fur on her tail and feet darkened, her nails and teeth grew longer, and the bones in her body shifted into a sleeker form.


    She was granted a longer life. Denouncing her god and allowing in the influence of Cyclophan gave him the ability to evolve her into a longer lived species.


    <hr>


    Wind Wolf


    Family: Beasts


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 15 copper pieces


    Combining the the prodigious fighting ability of dire wolves with the cunning and teamwork of warg wolves, wind wolves are destructive pests. They can live for up to eighty years and can be recognized by their inky black fur and large fangs. It is not uncommon for isolated wind wolves to become alpha leaders to wargs or normal wolves, they can therefore occur as boss monsters in a wolf suppression mission. Defeating an entire pack of wind wolfs is a level D party quest that can result in a promotion to level C.


    Wind wolves possess the Pack Hunter nature, allowing them to communicate with each other to co-ordinate attacks, without being able to speak. They also possess the wind walk ability, enhancing their speed with gusts of wind. Their fur, when harvested properly, can be used to give the wearer similar abilities.

 Stolen Hearts

    Having sworn off the protection of her god, the wolf was now under the control of Cyclophan.


    It had a peculiar effect on her behavior. She would speak, but only when spoken to, and insisted on remaining downstairs, protecting the fowl.


    The others of the pack had to be brought down to meet with her.


    "Is it really you?" One of them asked, carefully picking up her scent and eying her rejuvenated colour.


    "It is." She stated curtly, sitting up straight like a trained dog.


    "It is. it is!" Nico and Bello yowled happily as they danced around Cyclophan''s new asset.


    Her pack mates were uncomfortable with her few words. "Then you have chosen the man-things as your masters?"


    She stared off in the distance for a bit, then life came back in her eyes. "I have chosen them as our servants. We have kept bipeds to clean our fur and to treat our wounds for generations, but they are capable of so much more. Look at me, I have been reborn!"


    Nico yapped in general agreement, though he didn''t understand fully what was beings said, and Bellow continued jumping from place to place in excitement.


    "Go out," she told her pack mates, "retrieve the others, and show them our new home."


    The two looked around in the dark damp cave, a dripping grotto with water flowing through it and monstrous birds nestling in the back, "and you will stay here?"


    "I must protect this demesne. I will have our new friends construct a fitting nest for our family."


    This was the first time a wolf had referred to a nest as a place to call their home, they were a nomadic species. Her lackeys couldn''t help but feel the unnatural undertone of the situation, but they complied and left to unite their pack.


    -


    The humans had to be alerted that wolves would now freely enter and leave the gates. The pack was as apprehensive of the humans as vice versa, but with insistence of their elder members they were able to overcome that fear and meet their transformed leader. Establishing the cave as their new home base.


    Barbara''s sons, led by Yuki, who had the most experience in crafting among them, were assigned cave duty. They alternated widening the lower riverbed with laying bricks and carving wood. Over time the cave became closer to the upper tunnels in terms of polish. The riverbed became a brick road with a channel. And the open space became a wooden floored plaza, sporting fur bedding and clay bowls imbedded in the tarred planks for meat to be stored in.


    While the goblins worked the wolves layed about, Pentajo and Mac taking care of their needs. Mac was able to learn from Pentajo, about grooming and cleaning wolves, and the two became a team of animal tenders.


    The eldest wolf was protective of the fowl in the cave, preventing the others from harming them, but allowing the goblins to take the eggs. She stayed in the cave even during the day, when the younger members left the town walls to walk the forest. With the security of a meal in the evening they could wander far and hunt animals outside the silent forest.


    They took their spoils back to the cave, sometimes requiring multiple to carry it in their mouths. And the plaza was soon adorned with many bones and trophies celebrating their kills.


    The pack leader encouraged this behavior. "I have a vision," she would say, "a mighty pack, many dozens strong. Wolves as plentiful as there are trees in this forest. We will grow our pack, and we will flood the lands before us, the turfs of the small bipeds, the buildings of the large ones, and one day the cities of the man-things. That is the destiny before us!"


    These inciting speeches were not hidden subterfuge, and could be heard loud and clear by the goblins that worked in the cave and the river below. Or at least those that could understand the language.


    <hr>


    After two days of mining the goblins had widened the exit of the river enough to be able to glimpse the sea.


    "What is that? Water?" Second was in awe.


    "Let me see." Scratch wormed himself in front of the opening. The last portion of the tunnel was still narrow and cold water heaped up at the bottleneck, making it hard to catch sight of the blue expanse.  By the look of it, the tunnel ended several stories above sea level. "That''s the ocean alright."


    "We went to so much trouble for water, and it was here the whole time."


    "No luck. Oceans can be assumed to have salt water. I think. Though with all the magic and critters... Besides, were you going to just heist it up in a bucket?"


    "Maybe. With a pulley."


    "A pulley?"


    "When you throw the rope over a rolling-"


    "I know what a pulley is."


    "Huckabee taught me the word for it."


    "Well," Scratch handed his pick to his brother, "let''s just dig to the end of it so we can install a grate, we''ll think about pulleys later."


    He then left the others to finish the job and observe the brick-laying in the opposing tunnel.


    Cyclophan''s shard now dug the other way, against the stream of the underground river, and into softer soil.


    Having learned from their experience laying roads at the surface, the goblins were now paving that floor with a sidewalk and a waterway next to one another. Wooden planks had been heated to curve with the wall and stud the roof against collapse.


    So little sunlight entered the area that even the goblins made use of lanterns, of a kind. Glistening embers from burnt charcoal caste fain light from within standing clay bowls. To a human this would barely be a glint in the black, but for them it was just enough to work by.


    All those working here were the direct spawn of Barbara, and socialized to obey their mother. But even their eagerness to please her didn''t help them keep up with the crystal''s prodigious digging pace.


    Scratch padded the workers on the back with half-hearted encouragement while passing them by and progressing through the cave. The further he got the less build and the more organic the tunnel became.


    He could still hear the workers shuffle and ring behind him when he stood in front of the crystal.


    "You better slow down, we can''t catch up."


    Without the magic of the pipe, Cyclophan couldn''t answer him.


    "Remember when you first called out to me? You were buried under a buncha sand."


    He lifted his feet out of the icy cold water and selected a bank of mud to sit himself down on, then he made something that looked like a cigarette appear in his hand. Another demonstration of the sleight of hand aptitude the god had given him.


    "I''m trying something new, stay right there."


    The cigarette was hand-rolled from cigarette paper out of the Eston supply, the inside was nothing other than blue grass. He lit it in one of the lanterns.


    -


    Roger, roger, can you hear me?


    I can hear you, and my name is not roger.


    So it''s just the grass. The pipe itself has no special properties.


    Pipes are more dignified.


    Scratch rolled his eyes. I was going to ask you some questions.


    Why would I expect anything else from you. Cyclophan complained like an unappreciated housewife, but he got no acknowledgment of his whining.


    How much of what the wolf said is you speaking?


    I can only control temperament. I do not even undestand the noises they make, if I could not detect lies I would not have believed you that they communicate.


    How come you were never able to ''control'' any of our temperament?


    Who said I didn''t?


    That last comment gave Scratch pause, but then he continued. Well if it''s you making it come up with these plans of conquest, stop it. We''re laying low, remember? And more to himself he thought, and all of this belongs to me.


    It is natural for a boss monster to have the power go to her head. The dungeon keeper is the one that''s supposed to keep them in check, you. But if you''re too weak-


    Her? It''s a female? I thought it was like an alpha male or something.


    Huh? No, the strongest of the pack is the alpha, that can be male or female.


    Jesus, I''m beset on all sides by them.


    In any case, goblins and warg wolves can live symbiotically, it''s a classic co-operation. And if she can grow her followers enough, chances are greater we''ll find ones among them that can be evolved.


    None of these?


    That''s why she''s the alpha female.


    Hhmm.


    <hr>


    Scratch had never in two lives been with a woman that wasn''t afraid of him.


    He had been a dealer in human bodies, habitually stripping women of their rights and dignity. The meat wasn''t for himself to partake in, but a healthy relationship with the opposite gender wasn''t supported by his chosen lifestyle.


    Flexing the riches from gang activity could attract any vapid eye candy to parade around at the arm. These women were attracted by the money and power of a made man, but they weren''t part of the life, they didn''t have his respect.


    Lydia Harkness intimidated him. She was stronger than him, had better connections, and didn''t need him as much as he needed her. As a business partner this put him in a disadvantaged position for which a closer personal relationship was a partway solution, a step in the right direction. But as a lover it invited comparison between them, and he began to feel humiliated.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Don''t do that, I can''t control myself if you do that." He would complain, when she pulled him tight and pushed their bodies together.


    His body was made to breed quickly before it was killed by a predator, close proximity to a woman like her clouded his mind.


    "Then don''t."


    She on the other hand seemed to greatly enjoy the difference in power between them.


    When she first made her advance on him after their last meeting with the thieves she had felt a trepidation. The union was unholy. She had already once before indulged in those desires, and it had cost her everything.


    But now that she had crossed that line, she was no longer afraid. The guilt she had felt for all these years was burned out, and she didn''t feel it anymore. She did all the things she had done before her fall, doting upon this goblin as if he was a child and mixing care-taking and sexuality in a confused goop of affection.


    She would help him dress and undress, invite him to sleep with her in her tent, and cuddle during the night.


    "Come on baby, let me take care of you."


    They mated again, in a way more likely to conceive this time. Being no great lover he was exhausted afterwards, and the two laid in her bedding, staring at the tent ceiling.


    -


    "Thank you." She whispered sweetly.


    He smirked. "I''ve always claimed to be a ladies man, but they''ve never thanked me before. You''re the one helping us."


    "No. You... You''re giving us new life." She stroked his hair. "We had given up hope that life would ever change for us, this isn''t a sacrifice, I want this."


    "Funny, it''s like you''re possessed. I''m used to the hard-nosed lady with the short sentences."


    "Yeah..." She thought for a bit. "When I came here, since I''m of higher birth, everyone looked to me to lead them. It''s like you teach your goblins, emotions are a burden. I have to be stable, a rock."


    "That''s not what I teach them at all. Emotions are very useful, they''re tools with which we perceive the world. It is just business not to be controlled by them. Like that Aimone fellow."


    She smiled at the fitting characterization, but then she became serious. "Am I doing it wrong? Am I a bad leader then?"


    He didn''t answer at first. He stayed quiet for so long she thought the conversation had ended. But then he did come with something. "I believe there are two kinds of stoics. There are real stoics, who can live without emotion, and there are fake stoics, who bottle up their emotions. And I think you are fake."


    She sighed. "It''s probably no good being a fake, is it?"


    "It''s fine. It sounds uncomfortable, but it''s fine. Don''t you think you''re going to boil over some day?"


    She layed her head on his chest. "I think I just did."


    <hr>


    It wasn''t long before the bandit leader had a protruding pregnant belly.


    She hadn''t been with child before and was surprised by the tax on her body. No longer did she limberly jump between trees and buildings, now she ambled slowly between her tent and the building sites, avoiding bodily labour.


    Huckabee brought it up to his new battle brothers from the republic.


    "Did you see the boss?"


    Aimone cursed. "Mannagia, don''t remind me." He had dropped his weapon and was fiddling with gemstones on the ground.


    Gildo laughed. "She did warn us! Didn''t she say that? That she would take the lead or what was it?"


    Audace hummed in agreement.


    "You know what?" Aimone looked up at Gildo, "this is all your fault."


    "Que? Me?"


    "Who came up with that setting an example crap, huh? It was you."


    Gildo clicked his tongue. "Pshaw, I don''t control the crazy knight lady Aimone, she makes her own choices."


    "Yeah, whatever." He returned his attention to the gems.


    "You don''t think it''s a good idea?" Huckabee asked.


    Gildo shrugged. "Eh, what''s a couple more goblins. This place is overrun anyway."


    "It''s filthy." Aimone commented, "but not for long." He pointed at the gemstones. "I had to practice a bit for it to come back to me, but I''m managing. I''m putting the water cleaning spell into the crystals."


    "Did you get permission to use those?"


    He waved the question away, which was a very clear ''no''.


    "Still," Huckabee pondered, "things will be different around here with hobgoblins around. I just hope she can control them."


    "What!?" "Hob-" The others cried out in surprise.


    Huckabee raised his eyebrows at their unexpected ignorance.


    "Yeah, you know... That''s why they''re the subhuman family, ''cause there''s a lesser type for every human standing.


    Goblins for peasants, hobgoblins for knights, ogres for barons.... lemme think... I thought it was darkspawn for dukes, but for earls..."


    "Hold up." Aimone interrupted him with an unhappy chuckle from his nerves, "you''re telling me the whore is about to deliver us to a bunch of hobgoblins?"


    "I... yes?"


    "Goblins are weak," Gildo explained to Huckabee, "but a hobgoblin will overpower the average person with a bit of luck. That and these wolves..."


    "They''re bad news." Audace affirmed.


    Huckabee shook his head. "They''re just children."


    <hr>


    After allying themselves with the tree tribe the cave tribe had been able to learn the location of other former orc vassals.


    Diplomacy with these deprived groups was easy, goblin tribes were teetering on the brink of extinction at all times. With no ability to take what Scratch''s family had by force, they accepted the superior force''s terms.


    Every day now, envoys and pilgrims traveled between tribes to exchange goods and information. They were occasionally bullied by wild animals or the wind wolf''s pack, but they were sufficiently armed to fend them off.


    The tree tribe was becoming sophisticated, Brittany''s parenting and Kicker''s training had turned it into a small fortress against adventurers. The tree roots were like a keep, stone flooring and a fire hearth inside, while around it was a paved square protected by battlements and various work stations. The residents were armed and armored from trade and their own crafts, and could withstand any adventuring force Eston could be expected to send in the near future.


    The wild tribes in contrast were hardly different from before. The trade gave them access to better materials and weapons, but they had no fire or crafting for themselves. It was Scratch''s ambition to hand these settlements over to bandit women to develop.


    Harkness aided his plans by talking to a few of her women, and some were coming around to the idea that to have a future they had to become one with the forest.


    However, long before the envoy could take a woman out to the forest, it brought one back.


    -


    When Quiet and Benjamin brought back their sleigh from the river tribe, on it was seated an indeterminably old woman.


    The wolves, aloof to humans at the best of times, wagged their tails eagerly and let themselves be scratched behind the ear by the crone as she had herself be pulled along by the goblins.


    Huckabee stood a bit slack jawed, more so than usual, at the sight. He stood guard alone that day, and wondered if he had fallen asleep at the post.


    "Why don''t you help an old woman up?" The old lady commanded.


    Quiet pulled on her arm to help her rise to her feet, while Benjamin looked at Huckabee with an almost apologetic expression. ''I can''t make sense of it either.'' Was the message.


    "You there, boy." She pointed at the man. "Is the monster tamer at home, or the knight lady? Let''s say you bring me to her."


    Huckabee was unsure. "Is she- Can we-?"


    The goblins shrugged.


    -


    Not much later the guest was seated in Harkness'' tent, on one of the more comfortable seats. She had been served a cup of tea and a wolf was curled up at her feet.


    Behind her Huckabee and Audace kept an eye on the proceedings, while facing her sat Lydia Harkness, leader of the bandit troupe and former ''knight lady''.


    As it happened Scratch had been with her when the sudden meeting was called and stood next to her, his hand squeezed in hers.


    "Ah, that warms the old bones," the crone complimented the drink, "you have a nice place here, my dear."


    "Thank you, Ma''am." Harkness responded politely. "We hope it''s to your liking."


    Scratch was less polite, he eyed the wolf. "I would''ve expected them to tear you apart."


    "I would say the same to you," she chuckled, "warg wolves aren''t fond of large groups."


    "I was referring to the goblins." He insisted.


    "Baby, hush." Harkness whispered.


    "Och, how rude of me," the crone sighed, "I haven''t introduced myself! You see, my name is Lacrima, and I am a witch. So you see, there is no need to worry about my safety my boy." She looked at him up and down. "My little birdies informed me about Fyro''s goblins, but seeing you myself- Only now do I believe it."


    "What do we owe this pleasure to, ma''am?" Lydia strained her face to make a polite smile.


    Lacrima sipped her tea. "I think you know. Unhappy with your cousin, are you?"


    The colour drained from the bandit leader''s face. "Ma''am, I want to say-"


    But the witch interrupted her. "I noticed how unsurprised you are to see me mention the thieves'' guild, girly. I take it some blabbermouth is spreading all our secrets. But then you must know as well that someone like me would never visit on the account of someone like him."


    Lydia fell silent.


    Then Lacrima turned to Scratch to explain in more detail. "You see, I run the orphanage in the city, and I serve the public as a witch. But secretely, I am a leading member of a hidden society called the thieves'' guild. Lydia here tried to make contact with one of Fyro''s other clients, but I was the one who found the note." She looked back at the leader. "Tssk, tssk, very sloppy. A member of the thieves'' guild should not spread indiscriminate messages"


    Lydia held on more closely to Scratch''s arm. "Then what is your business here?"


    "Girly, you don''t know how good you have it," the witch began to lecture, "here in the forest you can do whatever you want, be with whoever you like, and nobody will attempt to control you. For me it''s very different, I must observe my status in the community, stay in line, be an example. I cannot deal in anything I want."


    "Could you get to the point?" Scratch complained.


    "Don''t rush an old lady. Now where was I? Oh yes, you''re very lucky to have a partner like Fyro, even if he''s an old blowhard." She laughed at her own words. "Most bandits must live on plunder you know."


    "In other words," Scratch pried his hand loose from Lydia, "don''t expect too much."


    "Scratch." The bandit leader hissed through her teeth.


    "That''s why you''re here, right? You saw the ad and you''re coming to us with an offer."


    The witch smiled coldly.


    "Now, let me not assume you''re wanna step on anyone''s toes here." Scratch licked his lips. "You''re not here for smuggling, the whole structure of the guild is to stop you from taking each other''s business. So what is it, the mine?


    Under market gold, is that the idea?"


    "You''re smart, but you lack patience." Lacrima pouted. "If you would have let me tell my story, you would have heard the idea by now."


    Lydia pulled the goblin on her lap to pacify him. "Please do not take offence. We wish to negotiate."


    The crone grinned through the teeth she had left. "Steel."


    "S-steel?"


    "There are few things I can not obtain legitimately, steel is one. At least," she chuckled, "in the quantities I require. Your family is possessive of the material, no?"


    "Who do you wish to arm?" Lydia asked, a bit more forward than before.


    "That is another mistake when working with thieves, my dear! Too many questions!" The witch laughed.


    "Then how about another question, do you have a supplier for this steel?"


    "I should hope so. It''s you! You have the workforce, and the mine."


    Lydia frowned. "But we don''t know how to-"


    "What''s in it for us?" Scratch interrupted.


    "Ah-ha, you can''t eat gold, can you?" The witch scratched her chin and pretended to think for a moment. "I do not have the access to goods that Fyro has, let me see, there must be something you could want... Oh yes, how about you don''t have to rely on dark magic anymore?"


    One of the guards gasped.


    "The false flesh is cheap and effective," she hummed, "but the drawbacks are manifold. Some proper magic should clean this place up."


    Alarmed by the mention of dark magic, Lydia squeezed Scratch tighter. "Be more specific."


    "I am a witch, deary. Elixers for healing, plant growth, combat. That should be a substitute for Fyro''s food and weapons, shouldn''t it?"


    "And how should we make this steel then?"


    Lacrima shook her head. "You lot just provide the work, let old Lacrima take care of the recipes."


    "Lacrima," Lydia put Scratch down and stood up, "thank you for your company. I invite you to stay and partake in our food."


    "Oh no no," the old woman stood up with the help of the pregant woman, "I should return, before I am missed. I will take a pigeon with me, for future letters."


    "Of course."


    "Toodeloo, dearies!"


    The wolf stood up and led her back into the forest.


    -


    "So she''s a witch. That''s out in the open." Scratch said.


    "Yeah?" Huckabee, who stood next to him, answered.


    "But buying steel, that''s a nono."


    "Yeah. So?"


    The goblin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nothing. I just... It''s nothing.


    <hr>


    By now the creation of new goblins was a known process. One day of pregnancy and three days until maturity.


    However, Lydia Harkness was pregnant for a full week. A clear indicator that her spawn would not be regular goblins.


    When she did go into labour, after seven days, she received more care than the other mothers had before her.


    A tent was cleared out as medical room, towels and warm water were provided for her, and two of her subordinates stood ready to provide her every need. Stanford, the healer, and Denise, who was a mother herself.


    The birth went smoothly, however, and after a few moments she had a litter of four in her arms.


    The babies had orange skin, their teeth were fully grown, and they had crowns of reddish brown haird but no horns yet peeked through the skin of their foreheads.


    "They''re hobgoblins." She whispered to the father, who had come to visit.


    "I know, what do you want to name them?"


    "Their names..."


    "You''re their mother, you decide."


    "I never thought I would be a mother... But I''ve been thinking about it, and I had some boy''s names in mind, Angus, Jasper, Felix, Duncan... But one is a girl."


    "A girl," Scratch stroked the baby goblin''s cheek, "I didn''t know that was possible. We better keep her out of trouble with the boys."


    Just as he said that the infant opened its mouth and bit him hard in the finger.


    "Ow! Little monster! We should call you Biter."


    "My grandmother was named Ada." Lydia suddenly mentioned.


    "You want to use that one? Angus, Jasper, Felix, and Ada. Good morning babies, say hello to mama."


    "Mah-mah." The small ones imitated the sound.


    "Ah!" Lydia nearly melted at the sight, she truly felt like a mother, and felt nothing but love for the vulnerable little creatures.


    <hr>


    Witches


    Type: Demi-Human


    Rank: C


    Witches are powerful magic users. To become a witch a girl must be born with the gift of Guth, extraordinary magical potential.


    Witches pass their knowledge on from master to pupil, only after completing the final test of her master can the student call herself a witch.


    Witches have a history of being persecuted. Before the rebellion of the dahlia hero witch covens were hunted and burned. Since that time most realms acknowledge witches as wise keepers of magic.


    In Blurich witches have a special status, given higher privileges but also restricted from exerting power over their society.

 Filth

    The hobgoblins took longer to grow than regular goblins.


    They quickly learned to walk, but their short legs left it as an ungraceful waddle.


    Throughout the day they mostly followed Harkness, as she managed her bandits and administrated the town. But taking care of their needs, food, cleaning, and the like, were Quiet and the goblins. The four were ambassadors of the goblin cave among the bandits tents, and formed a link between the two communities.


    For that reason, nobody raised an eyebrow at Angus chewing on a chair leg when they came to visit the bandit leader.


    "I''m happy that you came to this decision." Harkness told the woman in front of her while she was busy ignoring the hobgoblin.


    "I''m not," she sighed in response, "but I know where the cards are. I used to be an adventurer myself, you know."


    Harkness forced a comforting smile. Most humans tried their hand at adventuring in their youth, though most never made it out of rank F and those above rank E were very rare. The lady may have even slain bandits herself long ago, as part of a summer vacation. Now that she was one herself, she knew the size of the threat. Higher ranking adventurers would be on their doorstep soon, or even knight squadrons.


    "Have you met Scratch''s charges?" The bandit leader asked.


    "I have, they''re bright young boys. I just don''t know about the... partnership." The bandit woman looked at Harkness'' litter. Angus, who was still chewing, Ada, who was seated next to her mother and tried to imitate her expression and pose as much as possible,  Jasper, who was hiding in a corner, and Felix, who was playing with throwing knives. The bandit leader had lain with a goblin and birthed them herself.


    "They''re a vital part of the exchange." The bandit leader stated. "I promise you that it doesn''t take long." She reached over to stroke Ada''s head. "And your own will be the most loyal."


    "Right... Can you promise me I will be safe?"


    Harkness hesitated. "I can promise you you will be safer. You will have an army of goblins protecting you. But absolute safety..."


    The woman was taken aback.


    Eager to close the deal, Harkness pressed her luck. "It''ll be the closest someone like us can get."


    She agreed to become a brood mother. And she definitely wasn''t the first to do so, bandit women had been relocated throughout the forest for days now. It was easy building outposts and small forts with scores of obedient sons and the charitable donations from the cave goblins. Their claiming of the territories made it safe for bandits to travel between goblin nests on foot and meet with the matriarchs personally, confirming the success stories.


    "Do you have any plans for the burrow?" Harkness suddenly asked.


    "It''s a watermill! My parents used to be millers, I think we can repair it before fall and poach some grain." The woman beamed.


    The former knight was taken aback. The mill would have belonged to someone once, and had been taken in by monsters. But she hugged and congratulated her nonetheless, it was time for a new era.


    <hr>


    "You''re happy with the water tower?" Scratch asked the bandit while presenting a plate of thin black cookies, imported from a newly developing sister tribe.


    Aimone declined. "You tell me. It''s where everybody gets their water now, isn''t it?"


    "I''ll have some." Second said, and he was given the whole tray.


    The two goblins were having another meeting with their minister of water management in the overstuffed warehouse.


    "I saw you put in some decorations." Scratch mentioned.


    "Decorations? Managgia. I''m from the republic of Grienice, every child knows how to inscribe gems there."


    The goblin boss gave him a questioning look.


    Aimone sighed. "It''s the water purification spell, anybody can put in the mana to cast it. So me and Gildo don''t have to keep doing it."


    A glint of understanding Scratch''s eyes appeared. "Ah! Good goodgood. So any human can use it. That''s fine. But you had more ambitions, didn''t you?"


    "What? Get out of this hell-hole?"


    "I meant the sewers."


    Aimone scratched the back of his head. "Yeah... if we could tear up the ground under your savage hovels until we find an underground river, we could make something like that."


    Scratched waved his hand dismissively. "That''s fine, all taken care of already."


    "What?"


    Instead of explaining, Second asked another question. "How can we drain the slime water into our underground tunnels?"


    Aimone frowned. "That''s not how it''s done. We flush waste through the sewers before it attracts the slimes."


    Scratch folded his hands together. "Are slimes that dangerous?"


    "Not dangerous. Disgusting. Not that I''d expect a goblin to understand."


    Second was about to get angry, but he felt the judging stare of Scratch and composed himself. "In any case, we have the water tunnel, now we want to use it as a sewer. You''re the minister of water, figure it out."


    With what he himself considered angelic patience Aimone ignored the contemptuous tone in the goblins demand and came down to business. "How deep is this waterway?"


    "Ten feet at the tail end, twenty nearer to the cave." Scratch stated.


    "Then we must construct an intermediary pipe. A shallowly buried drain that runs through the town and ends into the waterway. Make it metal or clay so it doesn''t leak out into the soil. When the users dispose of their waste into the drain, they''ll use tanks of water to flush it through into the sewers."


    Scratch clapped his hands. "That sounds like a plan. Good luck on that minister."


    "Wait." Aimone objected, but he didn''t look annoyed or angry, he had the serious expression of a professional raising an important issue. "You can''t use just any sinkhole as a sewer. Sewers have man-holes so you can descend to perform maintenance, or to let in exterminators if it gets bogged down with slimes."


    "We can just get in via the cave." Second scoffed.


    "The cave?"


    "It''s where we live, underground." Scratch explained. "Don''t worry about the water way, it''s not a sinkhole, it''s infrastructure."


    They were about to leave when Aimone threw out a statement. "I thought you lived in those thatch huts."


    "Huh? Those are just for surface stuff." Second responded.


    "Fire. A forge and a kitchen." Scratch explained.


    "Cleaning sheets, tanning hides." Second added. "Oh, and woodworking."


    "You know, everything with waste products."


    "Ah." Aimone was a bit nonplussed, for the first time the creatures seemed capable of infrastructure of their own.


    -


    Not long after, the digging of a trench along the paved road began.


    To his dismay, Aimone was trust back into the sordid world of manual labour. Having to guide the goblins personally on the construction of the surface channel.


    The crew assigned to him was the same as the one that had worked on the deeper sewers. With their experience digging and building underground they had plentiful confidence in their own judgment for what needed to be done, and he would frequently rage through the work site, cussing at everything that moved over bricks haven been lain where clay was supposed to go or the trench being widened where it shouldn''t.


    Scratch would have observed and coordinated the effort, but an special occurrence distracted him and the entire project slipped from his mind.


    The dove pen the bandits had brought with them suddenly housed an owl.


    "It must be her familiar animal." Stanford mumbled as he carefully untied the pouch from the creatures limb. Referring to the witch, Lacrima, who had made a diplomatic visit not long before.


    Scratch snatched the parcel out of the man''s hand. "Yeah? Special magic?" He asked uninterested as he opened the thing up.


    "Not too special, but powerful," Stanford placed the bird back in the cage, "a pigeon will only fly home, but a familiar can remember multiple locations."


    "Straight to business I see, and some bribes at the bottom." Scratch fished out a long scroll with various instructions, a number of small ornate vials and a red chain necklace.


    "Oh my! Is that a healer''s pendant?" Stanford crouched down to inspect the object Scratch''s hand.


    "Let''s see..." Scratch skimmed over the contents of the letter. "...partnership...loyalties...magic forces...blahblah, aha. Here it is: ''-allow you to heal your creatures more efficiently.'' I guess?"


    "Splendid, absolutely marvelous." Stanford took the red chain and wrapped several times around his wrist. "I was taught healing magic in a convent. Not even the abbot had something like this. It allows you to feel the exact pains and ailments of your patients. He scratched behind his ear, "you''ve got a splinter in your thumb."


    Scratch looked at him like he was stupid. "I know I''ve got a splinter. How does it benefit me to have you tell me?"


    "It makes me a better healer."


    Scratch grumbled disapprovingly and went over Lacrima''s letter again. "Most of this is instructions on how to make her steel. Then at the end she mentions healing items to get us on her side."


    Stanford was contemplative. "Weapon manufacturing? That''s what she came here for, isn''t it? Was it wise to agree to it? It was a supplier that we needed, wasn''t it? Not another client."


    Scratch didn''t look up from the paper. "Sometimes you get an offer you''re not supposed to refuse. When a known hustler drops by and your own goons are kissing her rings you make nice and do what she says. Besides, it''s good to make friends in high places. Have one more person that has a personal stake in our survival."


    Stanford fiddled with the chain. "I suppose so... So we''re hoping she''ll become a patron to the town."


    "Patron! That''s a bit-" Scratch suddenly frowned deeply while reading the text. "Hey, wait. This is addressed to Lydia!"


    "Miss Harkness. Of course. You should probably take it to her."


    Scratch''s cheeks puffed up like a child. "No. She doesn''t control things around here, I do."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Stanford clicked his tongue. "I think you''d find that Lacrima does."


    Scratch snapped his fingers and pointed at him. "Cheeky. You''re cheeky."


    -


    The vials were filled with rare chemicals. "Potions" as Stanford called them.


    They ended up at least showing the delivery to the bandit leader, and she gave the okay for him to use them.


    Most importantly, one of the vials contained a liquid that turned organic matter to stone. Using the healer''s pendant Stanford was able to feel what part of the goblins was the unnatural ''false flesh''. A few drops from the vial petrified the foreign tissue, so it could be removed and the old wound healed with safer magic.


    Soon a line formed, in front of his tent, of malformed goblins waiting to be restored.


    "Will I be able to walk again?" Linus asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.


    "If I could perform stronger healing magic..." Stanford clenched his teeth. "Perhaps one day someone can return your legs to how they should be. But at least we can remove this useless skin."


    Not all goblins had been treated when the sun was about to set and dinner was normally served. Breaking their habit they dined separately.


    The hobgoblins had been put to bed and fallen asleep when Second was being treated last.


    Harkness took the opportunity to discuss a potentially unpleasant topic with Scratch in her tent. "You''ve been using dark magic."


    "We''ve been using whatever we could get our hands on. What of it?"


    "I... I don''t want to think of you as evil. I want to believe that even if we''re outcasts, we are capable of good."


    Scratch grinded his teeth. "And dark magic is evil? According to whom?"


    She took on a patronizing educational tone. "According to everyone Scratch. It''s something you lean from childhood is against the gods."


    "Against the gods!? What about killing goblins? Or bandits? What''s the gods'' stance on that!?" He raised his voice in anger. "I''m pretty sure your religion wants you dead. According to me apostasy is pretty fucking warranted."


    "That''s- What I mean is that it''s dangerous. Dark magic always carries a cost, a risk."


    "Yeah... you don''t like risk, do you? That''s why you let a decade go by without challenging Fyro. That''s why you stayed camped out in one spot without ever changing."


    "You-"


    He was fuming now. "You think you can improve your life without taking risks!? Without breaking the rules!? That''s how they keep you down you idiot! That''s how they killed all those bandits, because you were trying to play it safe. Actually, you killed them!"


    She slapped him across his face. It wasn''t a powerful slap, but the difference in strength between them was significant. His head snapped to the side and he tasted blood.


    "Scratch! Sorry, I didn''t mean-"


    He was calm now. "It''s okay, forget about it."


    "No really. I shouldn-"


    "I said forget about it!"


    They''d woken up Ada with their arguing. "Mama? Papa?"


    "It''s nothing baby, go back to sleep."


    But the toddler refused and sat herself down on her father''s lap.


    The two had to avoid further divisive topics in order not to fight in front of the child. Both fancied themselves stoics, and both were ashamed of their flaring emotions.


    <hr>


    The hobgoblins'' parents continued to pretend there was no bad blood between them, and soon involved them in their training.


    Scratch had let some of the older siblings take over instructing self defense lessons from time to time, but with his own children now given a front row seat he took the responsibility upon himself again.


    The orange creatures did not grow as instantaneously as the green ones, but their growth was quick by any standards and after just more than a week they were large enough to practice on other goblins.


    "That''s right, don''t try to force it..." Scratch guided his son Angus into redirecting a heavy blow, "you should be able to use your opponent''s force against them. Try to lock my joints Angus."


    After not immediately managing to pin his father''s body using technique, Angus tightened his grip and lifted the goblin''s body off the ground throwing him over his head with brute strength.


    "Oof." Scratch landed and had the wind knocked out of him. He took a moment to recover and then said "or that, whatever works."


    From within the group of diligently training goblins Ada''s voice could be heard. "Raaaah! I am the greatest!" She was holding a struggling Fyro over her head with no regard for the actual exercise as hand.


    "Yeah." Scratch narrowed his eyes. "I think you''re outgrowing us. We should pair the four of you together, or maybe your mother..."


    He was interrupted by Mac demanding his attention. "Scratch, Scratch... Scratch."


    "What!?"


    "Card." In his outstretched hands Mac held a whisk card. One prominently featuring Scratch''s face.


    In the picture, Scratch sat leaning back in a chair, like those from the farm they had raided and burned, holding various human stolen possessions with a smug smile. It said "goblin boss" on the top.


    Glancing if anybody had seen it, Scratch quickly snatched the card. His simple tunic did not have pockets, but with some sleight of hand that Cyclophan had helped him pick up he was able to make the card disappear in the blink of an eye. It now sat face down against his skin at the shoulder.


    "Did anybody else see it? Where did you find it?" The subject of the card wanted to know.


    Mac shook his head. "Nobody. Bello found it."


    The dog raised warg wolf barked happily from behind Mac.


    "Pentajo and I were helping the wolves make friends with the tribes," the goblin went on to explain, "but when I saw the card I had to take it back."


    "Well done. You''re a good boy, that goes for both of you." Scratch patted Mac''s shoulder. "Take over the class for me, I have to do something."


    He ran off and left Mac facing an energetic and confident Angus.


    -


    Scratch''s destination was a hidden location underneath the wolves'' den.


    One of the planks could come loose and revealed a small box. The old crate they had once used for crossbow bolts but had been replaced with superior equipment important from human society.


    The crude wooden rectangle now served as storage space for the occult cards.


    "Do not flash your fangs, it is the wise one." The wind wolf barked at the two younger wolves that were in the den at the time as Scratch jumped the small inclose to reach the hidden space.


    "Thank you, Wendy, always a lady." He mumbled, though he knew she did not understand his language like her did hers or could know in any way that he had given her that name.


    He pulled out the loose plank and plucked out the card from under his clothes. "Don''t mind me, just stashing- AH!"


    The darkness in the hidden space did not make way for the light when it was opened up. Instead, the darkness spread out, tentacles of inky blackness rose up and wrapped themselves around his wrist.


    The wolves growled at the tenebrous limbs, feinting attacks but too scared to actually touch it.


    Scratch eventually pulled himself loose from the grip, with faints lesions from the force. Then he violently slammed the plank back, forcing them back down.


    He looked at the canines, they stared back at him. "Haha... Molds, am I right?" He joked.


    <hr>


    I see you encountered my gift.


    Yeah... trying to get back at me for something?


    Scratch massaged the red lines on his forearm while smoking a blue grass cigarette. He hadn''t had the chance to commune with Cyclophan all day, the chores of keeping the town going keeping him busy. But in the evening there was a going away party for one of the bandit women moving into the abandoned mill. He took some time for himself during the festivities to talk to the evil god.


    For what? You turning my tunnel into a sewer? Not at all.


    Scratch groaned at thee passive aggression. It''s more dungeon. Isn''t that what you want? To discourage people from finding you. This does that.


    By filling up the path with shit.


    Right.


    Right. As I said, I''m not bitter at all. Or maybe you meant as attack because you had the false flesh removed.


    That- You can''t be worried about us running off anymore. After we''ve established ourselves so firmly.


    It''s still a sign of disrespect. And you know that very well.


    Is that what you want? Respect.


    Why not? I think I deserve some more respect from my champion. You haven''t even thanked me for my present.


    Thanked you?


    You''re welcome. It''s a reward. I said that I would give you some demons if you opened up the second river for me and you did. So, with the increased power I was able to materialize a monster from the abyss.


    You summoned a shoggoth under my floor to reward me!?


    It''s called a mimic. They can live in the darkness of closed chests and attack those that try to take the valuables. Very useful traps against raiders.


    A very useful trap against me. Look, it hurt me.


    It''s just being playful, demons love to cause pain. I''ll try to remember to calm the mimics'' temperament when you or your friends open it up.


    Oh, you will try, will you?


    As long as you try to show some deference. There''s one other mimic in the pot of coins you keep behind the wall.


    -


    Scratch massaged his temples and changed the subject. My nephew found a card in the forest.


    Yes, so?


    It has my face on it.


    That happens sometimes. The world memories remember what no longer is. Something doesn''t have to die for it to no longer be.


    So... the description is no longer accurate to me.


    Any reason why you would no longer be considered a goblin boss?


    Scratch grinded his teeth. I can think of one.


    Cyclophan managed to convey the sensation of him shrugging. You should have come to me sooner, to discuss our deal with the witch.


    Our deal you say.


    It is my dungeon. Whatevery smeltery gets build here is my business as well.


    I had thought you''d protest. I was led to believe dark sorcerers were your natural enemy. You know, after one had come looking for you and we had to kill him.


    What information do you have that I have not about Lacrima being a dark magic user?


    I just assumed... I mean she''s a witch.


    ?


    -


    Never mind. That''s just me thinking I can coast by on common sense. Tell me what you wanted to discuss.


    There is a large cavern directly underneath your wolves'' den. Just a few dozen meters lower and as wide as a cathedral''s hall. It''s perfect for a steel oven.


    An underground cave is perfect for a firepit spewing noxious gas?


    Ever head of a chimney?


    We have so much open space within the town walls. And the steel is something the humans know about. I thought we had reserved the underground for secret dungeon stuff.


    You are forgetting that illicit steel production is a egregious crime amongst humans, and something you want to hide from the public eye.


    I remember now. As opposed to witchcraft, huh.


    It wouldn''t be as much of a problem if you just killed captured adventures, instead of releasing them to tell their story.


    We are underdogs Cyclophan. You punch down, you don''t punch up, that''s the first rule of diplomacy. We won''t get any pity points killing anybody''s family.


    Goblins don''t get any sympathy at all.


    All the more reason not to poke the bear.


    In any case, get my shard out of the filth tunnel and put it back where it was. I''ll dig into the cavern and we''ll be expanding the dungeon into the underworld.


    I knew it, you just want more dungeon.


    It just so happens that our interests align. That reminds me, there''s a strong monster that I think would be great for heating up the oven. It''s called a great salamander and it''s stronger than-


    "Are we still doing the new song?" Yuki came to ask Scratch about the going away performance.


    "Of course." Gotta go, Cyclophan, we''ll chat later. He put out the cigarette.


    -


    The song he had prepared with the boys was meaningful, and relevant to the current whispers amongst the humans about working with creatures that used dark magic.


    Yuki plucked away at the harp when Scratch began to sing, and soon the other instruments joined in.


    Good and evil -


    And their merits -


    Men have argued through history -


    As well they should!


    My philosophy


    Any child can see -


    "Good is evil -


    And therefore


    All evil is... good!


    The song was about the folly of being good and the benefits of ignoring moral rules. With his perfect verbal memory he had been able to reproduce the song in its entirety from a musical he had seen in a previous life. It wasn''t meant to convince anybody as much as to amuse himself. The improved recollection allowed him to enjoy music and singing like hadn''t before.


    Especially in the end when the singing sped up he lost himself in the joy of the moment and locked eyes with Lydia Harkness, his partner in crime.


    Evil is viable


    Good''s unreliable!


    Good may be thankable!


    Evil is bankable!


    She did not seem angry or stoic at all. Her expression was soft with sympathy and admiration. Perhaps she took the plagiarized lyrics to be a much more personal statement.


    <hr>


    Mildred was in a foul mood. It wasn''t often that she was in a good one these days.


    She had recently lost two colleagues to a sudden show of power by the thieves'' guild. What''s more, she was implicated in it now.


    Marie, Boris and her had been stopped from interfering with the growing goblin nest near the sea cliffs. Then Lacrima had killed Boris and forced her to help kill Marie.


    Biting her lip in frustration the halfling mage took another gulp of beer. It was too late for anybody to be sitting in the cafe area of the guildhouse, but her being part of the staff nobody had told her to leave yet.


    "Even Arnold has a hand in on it." She grumbled to herself.


    The guildmaster had seemed like the harmless sort. He was old and not very diligent, but she hadn''t taken him as corrupt. Then again, neither had she miss Lacrima herself, who apparently was the thieves'' guild.


    "What the devil are those villains even doing up in that region?"


    "Excuse me," the girl that usually worked reception began, Mildred didn''t even know her name, "perhaps-"


    "I''m old enough to drink. Feck off."


    "Yes, but... it is time to close up. And it would be better to go out the back. To avoid the gentlemen at the door, you see."


    "Gentle...?"


    "The winner of the culling event, remember? He is here every day, I don''t think he has a home."


    Mildred put down her cup. "Yes, the rank E vagrant. We wouldn''t ordinarily call someone like him a gentleman."


    The receptionist looked at her expectingly.


    "The man is a hobo." Mildred explained. "A homeless wretch living off the guild."


    But the other woman looked more sympathetic. "He''s a hard worker. Would be able to afford a room at the inn if he took some quests of his own rank, I think, but he only slays goblins."


    Mildred downed her drink and slammed it down. "Fine. Let''s get going, before he charms you into marriage."


    She ignored the childish insult as she led Mildred to the backdoor. "Shouldn''t there be more goblin quests on the board, miss? People''ve been complaining about them running amok upriver."


    "I just teach. You ask the guildmaster about that. Yeah... you grill him real hard on why there''s no goblin nest extermination upriver..." Mildred chuckled to herself.


    The receptionist was a bit non-plussed by this cryptic suggestion.


    <hr>


    Mimic


    Family: Demons


    Threat Level: F


    Reward: None


    Mimics are a type of demon that impersonates treasure chests in order to attack unsuspecting adventurers.


    They possess an animal intelligence, the ability to see, and long tentacles. They are completely black.


    Mimics have no special resistances, but are especially vulnerable to light magic. When a mimic is killed they leave behind a treasure chest, the contents of which can wildly vary.


    As demons, mimics will only occur in dungeons or the lairs of dark sorcerers. Since demons have no natural presence in the overworld and will only appear if summoned.


    Though it has occured that beginning adventurers were killed by mimics, they usually at most manage to hurt them. With this, the owner of the mimic hopes to weaken their enemy and gain a better chance killing them.

 Deep cuts

    "It''s coming from here." Biter firmly clasped his nose when pointing at the well.


    "Ugh. I smell it now too." Scratch''s face wrinkled up as they looked into the hole.  A pungent odor emerged from the underground. "I think the bottom connects to our new sewer."


    The light reflected green from the slime extract, venomous caustics slid over the two goblins'' face as they stared into the distant waters.


    "Let''s not try drinking it." Scratch began. "I suppose we''re dependent on the water tower now."


    Biter put up a hurt face. "... We worked really hard on this well."


    "And now it''s done." Scratch stated. "Just because we invested a lot in it, that doesn''t mean it has value now. That''s called the sunk cost fallacy."


    "It just seems like a pity."


    Scratch patted his brother''s back. "That well saved our lives, so it wasn''t for nothing. Tell you what; we''ll board it up and we''ll put on a little memorial on top. Alright?"


    "Yes. Like First''s, and Yeller''s."


    "Sure. The well was part of the family just like them."


    Most of the dead goblins had some manner of memorial to them. The idea had begun with Scream, who had written on the side of the wall before his death. Others had gotten graffiti in their name on the sides of the cliff as well, posthumously. Yeller, First and Teeth had three red lints tied to a tree somewhere in the forest. Kicker and Biter had taken the initiative themselves.


    "But at least that means the sewer is done," Scratch wrung his hands, "and we can get some proper toilets."


    "Proper?"


    "Yes. I''m thinking porcelain seats, flushing cisterns, perhaps some air fresheners in the stalls..."


    "I don''t understand."


    "That''s alright. We''ll talk to the minister of waterworks about it."


    -


    The minister of waterworks was standing knee deep in less than clean water, shoveling sludge into a wooden bucket.


    Scratch knocked on a wooden plank as if he was intruding into a room. "Hi there, we figured the sewer was about done-"


    Aimone stopped what he was doing and glowered at him. "Mannaggia! Nothing''s done until we''ve gotten rid of these cursed slimes!"


    "Yeah? It''s a problem?"


    "Of course it''s a problem, they clog up everything. Civilized towns do not have monsters in them."


    "Wow. You just said that to my face, huh?"


    Biter interjected before it became an argument. "Can''t we just kill them?"


    Aimone looked around in the cesspit the town had been using for months. "This many? That''s usually an adventuring quest. It''s a lot of killing, and some of them are stronger than goblins."


    "You''ll manage." Scratch stated pithily. "Didn''t I assign you some helpers?"


    "Gone." Aimone focused on his work again. "Your girlfriend took em for her project."


    "For her what?"


    <hr>


    They still listen to you, don''t they? Cyclophan strained his mind to comprehend Scratch''s dilemma. You''re the leader of goblins.


    Scratch puffed pensively while looking at Harkness manage his goblins. She had leadership experience and knew precisely how to divvy up the task into teams. The goblins that had attained experience building the stone water tower were now putting their hands on a gatehouse.


    It''s not that straightforward. Status and leadership is fluid, it shifts around with numerous small attacks on authority. I did it to Drool, Teeth did it to me. If I don''t respond it sets a precedent.


    Then respond! It''s not that hard. Kill her while you still have power.


    I could do that... Scratch touched the painful cheek where she had slapped him. I could break off our relationship with the humans completely and lose everything that we''ve worked so hard to attain and rely on. We''d lose about half of our goblins but we''d probably win in the end. That''s my last resort.


    You are not just my dungeon keeper, but also my champion. If you can''t keep power I''d rather you die so I can appoint someone else.


    Scratch made a mental node about Cyclophan not being able to demote a still living champion. What I need is a weapon, something she''s scared off. She wouldn''t try this sort of thing if I could punish her for it.


    So you''re asking me to grant you more dark magic.


    If it''s not too much god-damn trouble.


    Cyclophan remained silent for a bit, pondering. I have prepared many magics to outfit my dungeon with


    deadlier traps and monstrosities, but magic for intimidating subordinates... hhm...


    Or uppity women as the case may be.


    I''m thinking more demons.


    Scratch let out a disappointed sigh. That''s firmly into the more monstrosities camp.


    No listen. If you construct an altar according to my instructions-


    You''ll get your damn dungeon. This one is what you could do for me.


    A familiar.


    What?


    A demon that does exactly what you want it to, a familiar. That''s the weapon you need.


    Familiars are demons?


    Only the good ones. I mean... not good, evil. But powerful.


    Tell me more.


    -


    It didn''t escape Lydia Harkness'' attention that Scratch was staring at her while she was guiding his goblins for her own initiative.


    "Did you see Scratch''s here?" Huckabee had noticed him too.


    "Yes."


    "Aren''t you going to talk to each other?"


    "If he has anything to say he can come to me."


    Huckabee made an uncomfortable grunt. "You know Dee... Dee would have asked if anything was the matter."


    She sighed. "Nothing is the matter, I''ve just realized something that I should have realized sooner."


    "What''s that?"


    "That Scratch is a child, just like the rest of them. It''s up to us to take charge of this group."


    "Take charge?"


    "Have you been listening to their stories? Their songs I mean." Now she stared back at the goblin. "The only forces of good they ever encountered were those trying to kill them, to them good is evil and evil is good. I want to steer them onto the right path."


    "And for that you have to take charge."


    "To become a leading example to their little society. Aimone has commandeered the sewer system already, but there are other things. Construction, defense, trade."


    "Do you think he''ll just let that happen?"


    "A firm hand is necessary."


    "...Right."


    "And it''s the most sensible arrangement. Our people are more spread out over the region, so my workload here is reduced. Besides, isn''t our expertise greater than theirs?"


    "It is." Huckabee nodded. He didn''t really have the big picture but the boss sounded confident so he followed her lead.


    <hr>


    The hobgoblins were too big to properly spar with their smaller family members now. While the green goblins were the size of small children, the hobgoblins came closer to the average human in size, though just below.


    For more reasons than just Harkness'' expansion of control their education their training regiment had to merged with that of the bandit guards.


    This meant the bandit guards now had a training regiment.


    "How did you not know this? Have you been swinging your blade like a hammer this entire time?" Harkness put her fists on her hips like a disappointed mother.


    "I''m... sorry? I''m not a knight you know." Huckabee became indignant at being lectured.


    Gildo snickered at him.


    "You must be more skilled at it. Come here and show it to the kids with me."


    "Ah! Audace is a soldier. Perhaps he... he would be a better... fit." Gildo deflected.


    Audace hesitated. He had seen her capacity for violence up close.


    "Yes! Fight! Fight!" Angus cheered.


    "It''s not a fight, it''s an exercise." Her mother wagged the dulled practice sword sternly. "Come Audace, you won''t get hurt."


    The Grienician reluctantly adopted a fighting stance.


    "Now attack me." The bandit leader commanded.


    He looked pleadingly to the other guards before attempting to come withing striking ranged.


    Harkness easily slapped his blade aside, struck his wrist to make him drop it and delivered two would-be fatal blows to his neck and stomach as he stumbled past her.


    Audace groaned. The blade was dull and didn''t pierce the skin, but it left painful bruises.


    "Get up. Let''s do it a bit slower this time, so they can see."


    As they re-enacted their movements in slow-motion she explained every action she took. "Re-direct the blade, strength doesn''t come into it, just tap... and tap... and tap. Is that clear?"


    "Yeah I wanna sword-fight." Felix proclaimed impatiently. He liked weapons.


    "You can take turns, the grown-ups can take the role of attacker first."


    -


    There were four guards and four hobgoblins, so they were evenly paired.


    Huckabee was in front of Ada, the only female non-human in the village. Small in stature compared to himself, she looked like a mid-teen, even if she was barely a month old and would never grow to be much older.


    "Okay, here I come." He came in slow. "Tell me if you''re-"


    "Hya!" She savagely knocked the weapon out of hand and began hacking at him with all her might.


    "Ah! Stop. No!"


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Ada. Girl, stop." Harkness jumped in to grab her wrist. "It''s not a fight, it''s just an exercise." She then turned to her guard. "You underestimated her strength."


    "Yes."


    "Now listen here. Goblins and hobgoblins are always at full potential, what are hobgoblins ranked as?"


    Huckabee resented being condescended to. "...E."


    "Rank E, like any commoner. So a hobgoblin is going to be as strong as a commoner at full potential."


    "Yeah!" Ada celebrated. "I''m great!"


    "And never stronger." The mother turned to her daughter. "That''s why it''s important to learn the techniques, Ada, that''s how you improve. So, let''s do it again. Huckabee, brace yourself, Ada, redirect."


    "I did redirect it." Ada pouted. "I redirected it back the way it came."


    <hr>


    Most of the wolves in the pack were on the younger side. Fully grown, but not yet fully matured. The eldest still thought of them as pups.


    They bounded through the woods with youthful energy. Now that an understanding had been reached with the bipeds they could go pretty much anywhere without fear and hunt all over the forest from river to river.


    But within the den they were expected to be calm and demure.


    The wind wolf, who had been nicknamed "Wendy" by Scratch, presided over the space like a sacred temple. The wolves would take in their positions on the bedding and not move unless getting up to leave, listening to the gentle rippling of the river and observe the birds that they were not allowed to touch.


    The cockatrices shuffled around in their midst. The things had been blindfolded to disarm their petrifying stare and they had to go through life blind, feeling at the crumbs and leftovers with their claws before clumsily pecking at them.


    At one point there had only been a two, but they had multiplied and the coop now contained a small flock. Enough for the goblins to occasionally slaughter one and leave the bones to the wolves.


    The cave geese had procreated too, but only recently. A line of two-headed geeselings swam after their mother in the dark water. Their necks were not yet long enough for them to move their heads independently.


    The monsters were passive due to the influence of the evil god and would normally be a peaceful sight to look at, but this day the cave was in chaotic disarray.


    -


    Heaps of dust swept through the air and the urgent calls of mining goblins disturbed the peace and made the pups antsy. Though Wendy sat undisturbed as ever.


    Cyclophan had dug into a deeper cavern and fallen several stories into the depths, stone powder had gone flying everywhere and dirty sewer water and slimes were leaking into the underground.


    The goblins were scrambling with ropes and buckets to manage the situation.


    "Hold this here. I''m binding it shut." Yuki had experience helping Second with his workbench and instructed his younger siblings into helping him close off the water.


    "Is it secure yet?" Fyro had a rope tied to his waist and was ready to descend into the unknown. It was a good strong rope from the bandit camp, not a shoddy homemade one from the goblins.


    "Calm down, there''s no need to hurry." Linus commanded. He was seated some distance away on even ground, being crippled. He wanted to project a voice of reason but he wasn''t heeded.


    All these voices prattled and shouted over each other with no clear leadership or direction.


    Regardless, in the end the flow of water was stemmed and the floor of the cavern was found.


    -


    Cyclophan''s tunnel between caverns was less than three feet deep, wider than it was far. It led from a corner of the wolves'' den to the top of a drip stone grotto many times larger.


    The stalactites emerging from the ceiling the goblins abseiled from were as tall as a man, and only a fifth of the distance to the ground.


    The stalagmites on the floor were squatter, and luckily not so dense that walking was impossible. With their crude footwear the goblins had protection enough against irregularities in the stone.


    The room was as wide as the entire village above ground and branched off into tunnels in multiple directions. The walls were visible by a distant diffused light coming from deeper in the depths, not casting shadows and only just strong enough for a goblin to make out the contours of the stone.


    At first the boys spread out with wild abandon to explore the alien new terrain and find where the core had landed. But when Scratch heard about the excavation he called them back to secure territory one step at a time.


    "Let''s start with a rope ladder. Does everybody know what a rope ladder is? Where''s Fyro?"


    "Fyro is still in the forest." "What''s a rope ladder?" "Do we have to climb back up?" The kids talked over each other.


    "Forest? What forest?" Scratch wanted to know.


    The young goblin gestured vaguely around himself at the many stalagmites surrounding them.


    "These aren''t trees, ergo: it''s not a forest. We''re going to make a rope ladder to get up and down more easily. And


    Fyro really shouldn''t be wandering around by himself like that, I don''t know who of you are old enough to know this but his own brother was grabbed by a cave monsters so-" He looked at the rope they had come down with. "How... are we going to get back up?"


    "With the rope ladder?" Somebody suggested.


    "Yes. Well, yeah. But right now..." Scratch grabbed the rope and pulled himself up. He managed to keep himself into place with his feet to grab higher on the cord. Then he took in the distance again and calculated a bit in his head.


    "This is too high, we can''t climb this."


    By lack of foresight they had stranded themselves.


    -


    Not much later they were hiking the stone forest themselves.


    Scratch led a sextuple of his youngest nephews while they were calling out for Fyro.


    "Fyro!" "Hey Fyro! Come out!" "I know you can hear this, there''s echoes everywhere!"


    Over the reverberation of their yelling they could occasionally hear the fluttering and hushed squealing of small animals, indicating that there was life in these caverns.


    "Why doesn''t he answer?" "Scratch. Is Fyro dead?"


    "He''s being a brat." Scratch answered not stopping to speak. "If he''d gotten hurt we''d have heard him scream." He turned the corner around a ridge of stalagmites and made ready to yell the name again Fy-"


    An something ice cold grabbed him by the mouth and pulled him down. He couldn''t make a sound.


    "Shh!" It was Fyro. "You''ll wake them." He whispered.


    "Fyro!" The others came running around the corner and began talking over each other. He couldn''t get a word in edgewise.


    Suddenly their voices were drowned out by the sound of countless wings unfurling and beginning to flap simultaneously. The gray noise reverberated endlessly against the cave walls, creating a deafening sound.


    Fyro dove to the floor and put his hands over his head. The others knew to immediately imitate him.


    The group was swarmed by bats, each half the size of their bodies. The creatures had flat faces and no fur, possibly even lizard-like scales if it wasn''t a trick of the light.


    The beasts scratched at them and tore their clothes, but eventually decided they were too heavy to carry off and no threat to them, so they left.


    "Friends of yours?" Scratch grumbled, lifting his hands from his head.


    "Monster birds." Fyro called them. "Didn''t want to make much noise." He showed his new wound, three lines from a bat claw running down his forearm.


    "Let''s stop this exploration business and go wait at the rope together.... Quietly this time." Scratch whispered.


    Everybody could readily agree to that and the group sneaked back.


    -


    When they returned a rescue operation was already underway.


    The rope they had slid down from had been re-purposed. At the bottom there was a single wooden step as with a rope ladder, the top was knotted through a whole in a carved wooden spool. By turning the mechanism the rope could be spooled and unspooled, making the one-person platform go up or down.


    Second stood there waiting for them triumphantly. "I have been working on this pulley since we first started digging the sewer." He declared.


    "I do seem to recall you having an odd fascination with simple machines," Scratch remarked dryly, "is it safe?"


    "One at a time." His brother explained. Then he looked at their scratches. "Is the cave?"


    "Not yet."


    When the rope was down they could tug on it to signal to Biter and Quiet above to start pulling. The younger goblins were subjected to the mechanism first while Scratch and Second discussed the future of the cave.


    "Bats as big as your torso, I wasn''t thrilled about it."


    "What are bats?"


    "Oh, you know. These furry flying mammals, a bit like rats."


    "Right... what''s a mammal?"


    "It''s just... they''re monsters, okay? We can''t do anything here while they''re around. With the temperament they have."


    "So do you still want to? Do anything I mean."


    "That depends, could we do it? How would we get rid of the smoke? Can you dig chimneys so down here?"


    Second pondered for a bit. "Hayato and the others have been using long drills for Aimone''s sewer drain. I think we can do something like that for the smoke too. You should ask Sota, he knows about fire."


    "Yeah... I don''t like it either you know."


    Second looked surprised. "What?"


    "I can read it on your face, you think this entire thing is stupid and dangerous and I''m just making you do things for my own enjoyment again."


    "Hhm.." He didn''t look him in the eye.


    "Well I''m not. This whole business is important, and if you can''t see that I just what you to know that I can."


    "Right. It''s your turn to go up."


    "You go first, I''ll watch your back."


    Scratch ascended last, after Second, a bit faster since so many where helping lift now. On his way up he could see the sturdy wooden spool fill up the space above the opening. When he passed the hanging stalactites he caught a glimpse of the monsters that had attacked them, sleeping upside down on the ceiling. They were not furry and certainly not mammals, though they resembled bats in many ways, they were closer to lizards.


    <hr>


    Before the cave could be cleared out and secured, the village needed to plan and prepare.


    But before that could be done, they had to occupy themselves with the regular order of things.


    One of these things was Harkness having decided to involve her children into a ritual she had been part of at that age.


    "Stanford, do you have everything?"


    "That I do, but I must remind you that I am not a sanctioned pastor or ritual master. Technically I''m not even a friar anymore."


    "During the crusades knights would have their children blessed through the midwife," she matter-of-factly pointed out, "the gods don''t work through the titles of the church but through the hearts of men."


    He decided not to mention that he wasn''t a midwife either and just held up the decanter of holy water and laurel branch. They had commandeered the platform for a blessing ritual for the hobgoblins, Harkness'' children, and were attracting an audience of goblins and bandits alike.


    "Kids," she told them, "you''re one month old now. When I was your age, I was a lot smaller. But I don''t think Rhada and Benesant discriminate based on height. I want to pass on to you what my parents passed to me."


    The hobgoblins felt a heavy gravitas weighing on the ritual that made them silent. "What is it?" Jasper whispered.


    "It''s called baptizing, Stanford, come." The bandit leader urged her subordinate to begin. "This is how children receive the blessing of the gods."


    "What''s a blessing? Is it a weapon?" Felix spoke up.


    "A blessing is something you keep in your heart." She repeated a standard definition. "It''s a promise by the gods that as long as you''re good, they will protect you. That means evil spirits can''t take control of your mind or body. Stanford here will complete the ritual."


    The healer shyly waved his laurel branch.


    "Because we live in Reddington and Rhada, the goddess of fire, is our patron, you''ll be blessed by Rhada as well as Benesant." She explained.


    "I''m not an observant of Rhada." He hissed at her under his breath.


    "The ritual is the same." She whispered back. "Don''t take this away from them."


    Stanford sighed, "let''s begin then." He walked up to Ada and sprinkled her with drops of holy water from his plant.


    "Goddess. Please bless this child wi-"


    Spontaneously, the branch caught fire. In panic, he threw it on the ground and began stomping it out.


    "Wow! Is this part of it?" Ada stared in amazement a the pyrotechnics.


    "It''s you''ve been rejected by the goddess." Stanford mentioned a bit stunned.


    "What!?" Harkness could not hide her distress. "What did you do wrong?"


    He took her aside, his voice cracked a little. "Ma''am. Even I have my limits. You''re making me call upon my deity for an unsanctioned ritual. Benesant blesses humans, demi-humans and abhumans, but not monsters. Do you understand?


    In her eyes they have already failed good and are aligned with evil. If I continue with this blasphemy, I will lose my own blessing!"


    Turning their back to the children wasn''t enough to stop them from overhearing their conversation. Ada was especially hurt.


    "Fine! I didn''t want your stupid blessing anyway! I hate this!" She was in tears and about to run off when her way was blocked by Scratch jumping on the platform.


    "Ho there, princess. How about you true believers fill me in on what going on here, because I feel like I should have been consulted."


    -


    "It is my duty as a mother to protect my children." The bandit leader stated a bit defensively.


    "Benesant say we''re evil." Angus complained.


    "Some sort of christening ritual?" Scratch asked.


    "It''s called baptizing." Stanford explained. "And it''s normally done on one month old babies."


    "Well. I''m happy she rejected you."


    "What!?" Ada responded angrily.


    "Your mother has many great qualities, but slave morality isn''t one of them." Scratch explained. "It is my greatest nightmare that you kids would turn out to be good."


    Harkness bit her lip. "I had hoped to cure you off-"


    He turned around dramatically. "Show me your sword."


    "My sword?" She stopped his hand trying to take her weapon from her.


    "It''s a proper one, right? A real knight''s sword." He pulled it out of the sheath as she let go. "Felix, I remember you obsessing with George over this sort of thing. Can you tell me what''s so good about this sword?"


    Felix pivoted subject matter immediately. "The center of balance is just above the grip, the edge doesn''t dull quickly, not brittle, light-"


    "In other words, good for cutting with, right?"


    "Yes."


    "How about this tunic, am I wearing a very good tunic?"


    "No."


    "Why?"


    "It''s torn everywhere. What happened?"


    "It''s not very good because it doesn''t serve its purpose, isn''t that the gist of it?"


    Felix gave a general conceding shrug.


    "Now. And this is a question for everybody, what''s your purpose?"


    "Protect the village and uplift the family." Angus stated with certainty.


    Scratch slapped him. "Wrong. Absolutely wrong, did your mother tell you that?" He threw the sword over his shoulder, making the woman fumble to catch it.


    "Spread our power far and wide?" Ada tried.


    "Wrong, and you''re not getting closer."


    "Do what you say." Felix answered.


    Scratch sighed. "A person doesn''t serve a purpose kids. That''s something your mother''s lords have told her because they want her to be a slave."


    She defended herself. "A knight is not a slave."


    "A slave in all but name." He corrected himself. "You can not be good or bad because you are not a tool. My biggest nightmare is that you fall for one of these grand narratives and you end up doing things you don''t want to for ''duty'' or ''honor'', or worst of all for ''justice''."


    The hobgoblins all looked at the floor, slightly ashamed for falling for the gods'' narrative.


    "Now really take note time, because I''ve said it before. You live for nobody else, only for yourself. Bring it all back to you. Remember that song we prepared? Don''t stop, never give up-?"


    "Yes papa." They agreed.


    "But really, what happened to you?"


    "Am I losing blood? There''s monsters in the cave actually, I came here for a healer." He then collapsed on the floor.


    <hr>


    The cave explorers were being healed by Stanford when Pentajo came to bring an extra patient.


    A younger warg wolf had return from the forest with an arrow in her side.


    "Room for one more?" He cautiously asked the human.


    Stanford gave a resigned sigh. "Very well."


    The wolf barked and whined about being attacked to the goblins, though for Stanford it sounded like nothing more than animal noises.


    "Wiped out, who''s wiped out?" Scratch repeated after picking up snippets of what the canine said.


    "A goblin nest... a... a building." Pentajo tried his best to translate into the human tongue, which he knew less well than that of warg wolves.


    "It''s been wiped out?"


    "A human came and wiped them out. The wolf, she fought but had to flee..." He stroked her while she was being healed.


    "You can communicate with animals? That''s powerful magic." Stanford gasped.


    Scratch ignored him. "Which nest? Tell me which."


    "A build. Building with the wheel."


    "A wheel? A caravan? A mill!"


    "Yes. A mill. Yes."


    Scratch grumbled. "That''s one of ours. You have to take me to see it."


    The wolf just stared at him, panting from the still aching wound.


    <hr>


    Dragonbat


    Family: Dragon


    Threat Level: E


    Reward: 3 copper pieces


    Dragonbats live in the upper caves of the underworld. They are extremely weak for a dragon species and prey only on animals and fodder monsters wandering in from the surface. They can be recognized by their scaly skin, leathery wings and large eyes. Clearing out swarms of dragonbats is a standard quest for level E parties in underworld areas.


    Dragonbats possess the blindsight feature, allowing them to see even in magical darkness. They congregate in swarms and attack as a group, but have no special pack tactics. Their intelligence is on par with the average animal.


    Dragonbats are excessively dangerous for those that are unprepared. They live in areas in which it is hard to see and can do significant damage by sudden ambush. Veteran adventurers that have explored the underworld many times do not consider them much of an inconvenience, since they can be easily defeated with a proper light source.

 Fear Itself

    It wasn''t unusual for warg wolves to carry goblins on their backs.


    The two families had gotten familiar enough now that the younger pups were willing to let Scratch and his brothers hitch-hike to the scene of the crime.


    On the back of the beasts they reached the edge of the territory in less than a day. The creatures could deftly weave between trees and uneven terrain and were not slowed down by goblins'' lithe bodies in the slightest.


    "This is were we encountered the carnage." The witness recounted the events.


    Without their cumbersome barking horn the goblins could not ask direct questions, but the animal felt the need to talk about its experiences naturally.


    "One plated man-thing. We were taught to fear man-things, but I had never seen one. I was... curious."


    -


    The mill stood outside the treeline of the forest. The road to the rest of human civilization long since overgrown and barely visible.


    It was a dilapidated two-story hut with an annex for the waterwheel. The dam that diverted the river into the wheel had never been closed and the device made a rhythmic noise as it kept spinning uselessly. Various materials were strewn around the ground that had been prepared for repairs that never came.


    A burning smell hung in the air.


    "Burning straw had been placed around the turf." The wolf said. Those that ran away were attacked first.


    "Blocking off the exits, pressuring the target into a preferred location." Scratch murmured as he got off.


    -


    "How many goblins are here?" Pentajo asked him.


    "Right now? I''m not seeing any. But before this there were twenty outsiders and two of my siblings." With gritted teeth Scratch pushed open the door, of which the lock had been kicked apart, he immediately had to avert his gaze.


    "What? What''s there?" The wolf raised boy reacted in concern.


    "Nothing, just, you know... dead bodies." Scratch didn''t stop looking away. He was nauseous.


    All the goblins in the home had been dispatched quickly and efficiently, their skulls caved in with a mace or other blunt object. The first batch had been smoked out with burning hay to face the attacker in the doorpost, the really young ones had been crushed in their bed.


    Scratch distanced himself from the morbid scene. He felt as if he was about to throw up, but then didn''t. "Clean this up, before it stains the wood forever." He commanded the others.


    "Are you-?"


    "Just do it. Jesus fuckin Christ!"


    He had to step away while the others handled the dirty work. The point of being the boss is that you don''t have to handle the disgusting stuff yourself.


    -


    Not too long after, they heard the sound of horse''s hooves.


    Harkness had come chasing after them, her mount being slower than theirs for once.


    "What happened? Did anybody die?"


    Scratch gestured with his head without looking at the building. "Cleaned out."


    "Dammit." She punched the saddle with gritted teeth. "After I promised her- How could this have happened?" Her question was concrete and directed at Scratch.


    "One agent." He began to sum up. "Blocked exits.  A funnel trap. Sharp, clean kills."


    "We were supposed to be prepared for adventures."


    "Are you hearing anything I''m saying?" Scratch raised his voice. "This isn''t a buncha thugs making bones, this was done by a house painter, a button, you catch my meaning? A real pro."


    Harkness lowered her voice. "A goblin slayer." Then she turned around and galloped away.


    "What? Is that a thing?" Scratch called out after her. "Are you just going to drop some ominous lines and turn tail? Explain yourself!"


    After giving their former allies a mass grave the goblins returned home as well.


    <hr>


    "Where''s Lydia?" Scratch approached the guards, who were standing around the boarded up well near the cave.


    "Where were you?" Aimone wanted to know. "Did you want us to handle your vermin problem or not?"


    All of them were armed with crossbows to kill dragonbats in the cavern, in order for the goblins to finish their forge.


    "The boss is away. She got the guild to convene with her." Huckabee explained.


    Scratch put his hand to his forehead. "This again. More whims from the knife thrower."


    "Yeah." Gildo vocally agreed. "It''s like we don''t even get a vote."


    "If it''s about the future of the village, she should discuss it with me." Scratch continued.


    "You mean with Beatty." Aimone raised an eyebrow.


    "Whatever, let me lead you downstairs."


    -


    The humans had to crawl through narrow tunnels, past snarling beasts, into the opaque black darkness to reach the cthonic wilds.


    "M-maybe this isn''t such a good idea..." Huckabee stammered as his hand was guided to grab the rope that he would be lowered down on.


    "It''s a strong rope." Yuki assured him.


    "But- Aaah!" Huckabee could only scream as he was lowered at a pace only slightly slower than free fall. The goblins struggled to gain control over the spinning spool and managed to do so only with Audace''s help, who had cast a simple light spell to help him see.


    "Hang on, Huck!" Scratch shouted downwards. "It''s for the greater good!"


    "Aaah!" The bandit stressed as he swung from side to side over a sea of darkness.


    When he was eventually lowered unto the stone floor, at a more reasonable pace, he was so relieved that he kissed the slimy dank stone. "Gods be praised. By Geros. Or by Histolf... I don''t rightly know."


    The Grienicians had more composure being lowered onto the cave ground.


    When they and a gaggle of goblin retainers and carriers had been gathered together there was a task force assembled to kill dragonbats.


    -


    "Mannaggia! How do we even shoot these damned things?" Aimone complained. "I can''t see niente."


    Audace floated his candlelight spell as high up as he could manage, and when they caught a glimpse of a bat they''d shoot at it, to no avail.


    "Follow me." Scratch commanded. "I have a destination in mind. I just need some muscle to watch my back."


    "I suppose that is what we are." Huckabee sighed.


    When the group hiked through the forest of drip stone it became apparent to the humans that the goblins were carrying more material than just survivalist equipment.


    It was a small caravan with polished furniture parts and iron. More than exterminators, they were an escort.


    "What exactly are you here to make?" Aimone demanded to know.


    "You''ll see. Keep your eyes on the skies."


    -


    After not too long the group reached the edge of the dome, where a hole in the wall led to a tunnel cave and to the outside, reverberating the shore winds and carrying the salty sea air into the musty cave.


    Crashed into the base of a drip stone wall lay Cyclophan''s crystal. It stuck out like an arrowhead that had been stopped by a wooden shield and was about to fall out.


    "Managgia. What''s that?"


    "That''s the last piece of the puzzle." Scratch unhelpfully explained. "Boys! Lay out the material. Top parts to the right, supports to the left, miscellaneous in the middle."


    "What''s ''miscellaneous''?" Yuki asked.


    "That means ''other''," His uncle noted quickly and turned to the humans. "Men! Do you have the ability to light these crossbow bolts on fire?"


    "A spark is a simple spell." Huckabee said as he lit a projectile draped in an oily rag with his hand. "What are we lighting?"


    Scratch made a cigarette appear from behind his ear and lit it on the burning bolt. "Nothing, just checking. Shoot any monsters that come close while we build."


    "Yeah, we''ll shoot the other monsters." Aimone commented.


    "Good lad." The goblin condescended while ignoring the subtext.


    -


    With the blue grass entering his lungs, Scratch could once again hear the voice of Cyclophan.


    You''ve gotten the things I requested of you.


    We just happened to get some free gems from the witch. I wouldn''t be able to explain myself trying to get it through the smugglers.


    That''s a good fortune.


    Suspiciously so. Now tell me how we''re supposed to arrange these parts. And why you haven''t charmed the lizardbirds yet.


    They''re called dragonbats. I can''t control their temperament because this cavern isn''t part of my dungeon. The magic flows away freely through the branching caves. You need to wall them off to claim it.


    But you do still have the tunnels above.


    A thin stream connects me. It''ll be more secure once the devil altar is complete.


    So this IS in your interest.


    Every improvement to the dungeon also strengthens you! Even if you''re too stubborn to admit it.


    In any case. Lay those plans on me.


    -


    As Cyclophan instructed Scratch, he instructed the goblins, who build a round stone table atop the crystal, with a large gem exactly in the middle.


    The sounds of hammers and chisels echoed through the underground space and attracted swarms of dragonbats, but the creatures were cowardly and swerved when one of them was brought down by a flaming arrow or spell.


    "Water magic sure is powerful!" Huckabee exclaimed as he saw a shard of ice explode mid-flight.


    "Hah!" Aimone responded pridefully. "Not to brag, but I come from a family of adventurers. We know how to use magic!"


    "Don''t use up your mana showing off." Gildo complained. "Save it for a crisis."


    "Yeah yeah. My mana has been coming back more quickly lately anyway. Almost like sleeping in a dungeon."


    Bit by bit the altar began to take shape. It was a dainty fragile thing, made of thin planks and slate, sticking out like a sore thumb between the powerful stone pillars of the cave.


    The top was a dark round circle with a bright red center. faint refractions were moving inside.


    -


    What''s happening?


    I''m engraving magic into the gem. A devil altar works much like a spellrod. Remember those?


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Listen. Even if you''re gonna explain the science behind it, I won''t unde-


    It''s very simple. Instead of a person letting their build-up mana escape through the gem, it''s the constant magic flow of the dungeon being channeled through. So the spell is cast continuously.


    And where do I come in?


    In a moment the altar will be complete. Then I will ask you to take a deep drag on that surrogate for mana storage you have in your mouth and commune with the altar.


    Commune? How?


    Just... just lean on the table and close your eyes.


    -


    When the object had been pretty much completed Scratch addressed the goblins.


    "Well done kids. I''m really proud of you now pick up some of the heavy objects and protect me while I go trance for a bit."


    "Hey!" Aimone protested after looking over his shoulder to see the evil seeming construct. "What''s that? What''s he doing?"


    But the goblins kept him at a distance while Scratch folded his legs into a yoga pose to commune with the altar.


    <hr>


    I... feel floaty.


    Your mind has descended into the abyss without your body. That''s normal.


    His surroundings were dark. There was no solid material above or below him and he felt like a floating speck of dust without his body.


    This is where demons remain trapped. They can not enter the worlds above without the help of gods or mortal.


    Worlds? Multiple? His mind immediately went to his planet of origin, Earth.


    Both the surface world and the underworld that we dug into.


    So were are these demons then? I don''t see anything.


    Look closer. They do not have a form, but they have an essence.


    What''s that hippy crap? Can''t you just- oh.


    He began to notice the soft but insistent whispers in the air. A thousand promises and wishes by eager entities.


    ''The blood of your enemies.'' ''A mortal soul.'' ''Your every carnal desire.''


    The voices had clear but unseen sources. Little sparks of icy cold fire burning at different intensities.


    Take your pick, dungeon keeper. Every one of these beings is offering you a deal, a sacrifice for power.


    I wasn''t told about any sacrifices.


    These are the mimics that I summoned. Cyclophan brought for almost impossibly tiny sparks. They offer protection, and the only sacrifice they need is a dark spot to live in.


    ''Lashing. Lashing greedy fingers. Keeping treasure in the dark.'' They whispered.


    So no cutting open human sacrifices.


    If you have something like that on hand I can get you a more powerful demon. But what I had in mind for you is this, a grue.


    ''Smash intruders. Dark rooms. Smash and chew.'' The thing resembled the spark of a mimic, but much bigger.


    I''m not looking for anything defensive. I want offense. Something I can take with me outside of the cave.


    Look. These are all the demons related to by aspect of darkness and deception. A bubble marked itself around them filled with sparks of wildly different sizes. Living shadows. Doppelgangers. Nightmares...


    The things drowned each other out with endless whispering.


    So everything in this bubble excels in hiding or playing tricks?


    Yes.


    Then let''s take a looksie outside. He floated away in search of other sparks.


    No. You fool! Cyclophan cursed at him, but he ignored it.


    -


    Taking his time to smell the roses Scratch floated from spark to spark to hear their offers.


    ''Immortality.'' A large one promised. ''Immortality for the soul of a king.''


    Sorry. Looking at a lower price range. He floated on.


    In the vast empty blackness he began to see landmarks. Impossibly large humanoid statues, holding up the ceiling of this world like Atlas the sky.


    Despite his words he kept looking at the largest options around. ''Stomp on castle, burn cities, lift mountains! Eat thousand men a day.''


    Yeah... let me get back at you when I have a human trafficking ring again.


    One spark was immensely big. Big enough to make all previous ones seem like insects on the side of a building.


    ''Give me a form, summoner.'' It promised. ''And I will grant you all the power you never had. Might and magic, far exceeding your potential.''


    Yeah? And what''s the catch?


    ''The love of a woman.''


    Come now.


    ''Do you have the love of a woman to grant me?''


    ... I will be back.


    Eventually, he did find one that asked for something he had and offered something he needed in return.


    ''Mana.'' The simple thing said. ''Give mana, take blood, give mana.''


    Will you allow me to use magic by myself?


    ''Give mana.''


    Okay. I''ve chosen. Let me see, how do I do this?


    He clumsily tried to collide with the demon, when he was suddenly woken up by a human shaking his body.


    "Did you use dark magic? Mannagia! Speak to me!"


    <hr>


    When Harkness returned she had people following her. Two women and a small army of goblins.


    "Ma''am?" Stanford the healer, and minister of agriculture, came out to greet her.


    "Where are the men? Why are none of the adults standing guard?" She wanted to know.


    The gatehouse was a brick arch, almost two stories high, that could house a portcullis. But those wooden bars wouldn''t stop any invader if there wasn''t somebody defending it.


    "They''re below, clearing the cave. You know, with the goblin boss."


    She sighed. "They shouldn''t do things like that until I''m here to lead."


    "Ma''am? Did you take Sara and Emma back from their outposts?"


    "That''s right. And pitch some wide tents for their kids. They''re staying here for a few nights, and so will the others that are on their way."


    "Wh-" He didn''t dare question her, but he had a questioning look.


    "We''re under attack Stanford. It''s not a siege, but in a way, it''s worse. Our people aren''t safe in Scratch''s colonies."


    "O-okay. I will gather some men to prepare sleeping arrangements for..."


    "Less than fifty now, but there''s many more on their way."


    "Understood."


    "I''ll discuss it with Scratch later."


    -


    The bandit leader didn''t have to go look for the goblin champion. He burst into her tent while she was there with Stanford and their children.


    "You''re going around gathering charity cases, Lydia?" He was still dressed in his warm weather tunic, but a disconnected long sleeve covered his right arm and hand, tied with lace to his upper arm. A spellrod poked out of the end of the sleeve.


    "A noble must protect their charges. That''s their purpose."


    "You''re not a noble anymore."


    "No. But you are." She walked towards him from around her desk. "You''ve taken control of these tribes, haven''t you Scratch? With that power comes a responsibility to protect."


    "The tribes are the buffer between use and the outside." He insisted. "We build them up so we don''t HAVE to protect them."


    "Yes you do. Because you''re their master and they rely on you." Then she turned to her children. "That is what it means to be good, kids. Not to serve those more powerful, but to serve those weaker than you. To look out for your fellow hu- people."


    Scratch closed the rest of the distance between them. He looked up and she bended over to bring their faces closer.


    "You got a problem with my authority?" He said in a softer tone.


    "I want to be your friend, Scratch," she answered in kind, "but sometimes I have to be the adult in the room."


    He looked at her intently with his one eye. "So that''s what I get, huh? Shoved aside. Passed over for promotion."


    She righted herself. "I don''t know what any of that means. But I want to tell you that you''re not as smart as you think you are."


    "That''s not fair!" Jasper called out. "Nobody is *that* smart! That''s not his fault." He was completely sincere.


    "Thanks Jasper." Scratch sighed. "Listen, Lyds, I want to keep the peace. Let''s say we strike a balance, huh?"


    "What do you mean?"


    "There''s things that you want that I don''t, and vice versa. So let''s make a trade, right?"


    She crossed her arms. "I have an open mind."


    "Whenever you feel the need to ''be the adult'', you discuss it with me. And we can agree on something blasphemous I get to do in exchange."


    She mulled it over. "If it''s not too cruel."


    "Not cruel, just generally satanic. Watch." He held up the spell rod. "I nicked a water cooker rod from your stockpile. I hope you don''t mind."


    "So? You want to keep it? I know that you can''t use-"


    A lance of smokeless blue fire shot out of the device. Scratch had pointed it into the unoccupied air behind him.


    "AGH!" Stanford grunted in pain. He wasn''t anywhere near the fire.


    "Uncle Stanford. What''s wrong?" Angus rushed to him.


    "I don''t know. My arm suddenly..."


    "How is this possible?" Harkness demanded to know.


    Scratch pulled up the sleeve to reveal a leech-like parasite wrapped around his forearm. "It''s a demon. It drinks my blood and in exchange it pushes mana into the spellrod. Stan. If that healer''s pendant thing makes you feel everybody''s pains and aches all the time, perhaps you shouldn''t wear it all the time."


    Stanford grabbed his head. "You''re lightheaded. If you keep using that thing you''ll go anemic and die."


    Scratch shrugged as he put the sleeve back. "I''ll eat more red meat."


    Harkness violently shook her head to get a grip on the situation. "A demon? You summoned a demon!? That''s dangerous!"


    "That''s what I wanted to say about you summoning the whole forest to our humble abode. But I guess it''s goddamn necessary."


    "Scratch. I''m worried."


    He softened. "Me too. Let''s both keep it to a minimum, okay?"


    "Okay."


    <hr>


    One benefit to gathering so many of the goblins in one place was that they could be kept busy by helping finish the steel mill.


    After a few well executed exterminations by the bandits the dragonbats had been scattered and chased off to other caverns, and the cave could be filled up with scaffolding.


    The rope coming down from the ceiling was turned into a proper elevator platform. It moved up and down through a wooden lattice tower and had additional ropes to bear the weight of cargo going up and down.


    A mansion of empty wooden scaffolding cubes encircled the space where the enormous industrial force was supposed to be erected. It was right in-between the elevator and the devil altar, which had had a small tent pitched around it.


    Countless green bodies swarmed the building site like ants. They were young goblins, barely a few weeks old and with no understanding of the world. When their mothers told them to go help downstairs, no other ideas or concepts were there to occur to them, other than waste time playing around and eating things, which they did do.


    "I didn''t realize how big it would be." Scratch rubbed his demon through his sleeve, but he was referring to the uncompleted forge.


    "Can we really make a fire that big?" George wanted to know. Among goblins he was the undisputed master blacksmith, but that didn''t mean more than a few months of experience, among humans he would barely be an apprentice.


    "It seems impossible now," Scratch answered, looking at the base of the building, through which air was supposed to flow and fuel a fire big and intense enough to melt a large room full of ore, "but there''s so much magic in this world. I can''t rely on common sense for anything."


    He seemed surprised by his own words. "Common sense... the common sense of this world. Is that what he meant?" He whispered to himself.


    The hobgoblins were down below too. Their mother was busy, so their father had taken them along to see the great projects of their civilization.


    They didn''t show too much interest. After a while they had started playing make-believe with other shirkers and ran around pretending to be great knights.


    "Take aim, cowards!" Ada proclaimed. "I''ll burn this whole place down to achieve my ultimate victory!"


    "That''s wrong. A knight protects!" Jasper protested.


    "I don''t care. Haha!"


    Hobgoblins had the ability to wield magic, and they had learned simple spells from the humans in the past week, so they were creating orbs of light and small flames and pretending that they were destructive weapons.


    "We need backup. You, come with us to fight the dread knight Ada!" Some of the distant goblin relatives ran up to the devil altar tent to recruit more people to their game.


    George looked at Scratch for permission, and he wordlessly let him excuse himself.


    When the others looked for Scratch to join them too his dismissed them with a short. "Someone needs to keep watch of the fort." He preferred watching them from afar to joining in on the game.


    He closed his eyes to take in the experience. The laughter of children, the rushing of the sea wind, somewhere and owl hooted.


    His eyes shot open. An owl hooted?


    -


    From the opening that led to the outside came a flying entity. A beige tarp billowing in the wind.


    On closer inspection it was Lacrima''s owl, dragging the cloth behind it in its claws.


    "The familiar?" Scratch spoke aloud in surprise as the bird came near him. "You found your way in, you must be smarter than you look."


    The creature swooped down and right before it hit the ground up again into the tarp. Something miraculous and magic happened to it inside as it swelled up and the wrinkly old hands of an elderly human appeared outside of the material.


    Lacrima had appeared before him. How she stood in the tarp it more than modestly covered her body, showing only her hands and face, like a wide falling dress. "Thank you dear." She gloated. "I am."


    Knowing to keep powerful people happy he was quick to offer her what little comforts he had around, a chair to sit on, some jerky to eat. "That was quite the magic trick." He flattered.


    She refused all of it with a hand gesture. "It should be. I am a witch after all, transformation is my forte. Watch."


    She waved her hand and in the distance all the playing children shrunk away and disappeared.


    "What?!" He gasped in shock. "What did you do?"


    "I turned them into frogs," She chuckled, "if you watch closely."


    "Turn them back. What''s the purpose of all this?"


    "Transformation magic never lasts long," she remarked snidely. "This old lady is just showing off dearie. A show of power. A subtle threat, you know the kind all too well."


    She then sat herself down on the ground. "There is no Beatty, is there?"


    He froze up. Without Beatty he had no power at all. The thieves'' guild would march right in to take the territory.


    "Tell me who your real master is. Yanis? Not that horrid water tart Arlette, is it?"


    He saw his chance to lie. "I only know I fear them more than I fear you."


    "Yanis then." She decided. "That old miser, still hoarding dungeons like they''re silver coins, heh heh."


    In the distance the frogs turned back into goblins and hobgoblins. They were crawling on all fours. Angus threw up.


    Scratch sat down across from her, he had decided to try and be friendly with her. "Do you and Y- master Yanis know each other?"


    "Oh no, not at all." Lacrima smiled, she was in control and in a good mood, so she let him chat her up. "Despite what you see me as, goblin, I am still a member of the Reddington kingdom. You wouldn''t see the likes of a witch like me grace the courts of a dungeon lord. But I know *of* him."


    "What do you know?"


    This question soured her. "I am not here for your questions. Rather show me how far along my forge is."


    He turned and gestured at the mess of scaffolding in the middle of the cave. "We''re at the beginning stages."


    She strained her eyes to try and see in the deep dark. "It''s not done yet? Where are your stone mages?"


    "We... have no such thing."


    "Meh." She was disappointed.


    -


    Just then the hobgoblins came running up to the tend, clenching their fist and even showing some magic. "What are you doing here? Get away from him!"


    Scratch fearfully gestured at them to stand back and tried to hush them, but Lacrima was amused. "A simple client supplier conference. I am observing the conditions in this dungeon."


    "And here I thought the secret was safe." Scratch tut-tutted. "You must have used some magic to discover that this was a dungeon, either that or you''re very smart."


    The flattery angle seemed to work, because she immediately gave up the information. "Magic? Come now, dearie. Even if such magic existed I wouldn''t need it. With my ability to change into an owl I was able to observe every facet of your society. That''s how I learned Harkness isn''t really in charge, you are, and you wield dark magic. Dark sorcerers care little for gold, so the prize you protect must be a dungeon."


    "And now you''re taking that prize for yourself. Are you a dark sorcerer then?"


    She chuckled. "I know better than to oppose the will of the gods, little one. No, the magic of Guth is enough for the likes of me. Yanis can control the dungeon, as long as I get my steel."


    "As I said, we''re still far off from operational."


    "Very disappointing. I do urge you to pick up the pace. Hence the transformations, the threat, and all that."


    "I get the picture. Can I ask you to help us handle a goblin slayer problem?"


    She looked down on him with disdain. "You solve your own problems. Even if you have to lock yourself underground with only bats and bugs to eat like your ancestors. All I care for is my steel."


    He smiled past the callous words. "That understandable. It''s just that it would speed us up quite a bit, which I know you''d prefer, and the magic is so easy to you... so..."


    She rolled her eyes as she righted herself. "An enemy like that would be child''s play for somebody like Yanis. Ask him to protect his own property if he intends to keep it."


    Then she turned into an owl and flew back to the sea, leaving the tarp behind.


    Scratch cursed under his breath.


    <hr>


    Manabelt


    Family: Demons


    Threat Level: none


    Reward: None


    Manabelts are demons summoned by dark sorcerers to increase their powers. By attaching a manabelt to their body they can store additional mana, in exchange for their health, as the demon will drink their blood. Over time manabelts will corrupt their hosts'' blood, poisoning and killing them, unless the host has absolute control over the demon.


    Their appearance is that of a large black leech with a single yellow eye on its back. Being demons, manabelts do not occur in nature, but only as the work of a dark sorcerer. When one is spotted, that is evidence of dark magic, either by the host or using the host as subject.


    Manabelts can be hurt by any mundane weaponry, when destroyed they will detach from their host and leave a large opening in the artery, which can cause the user to bleed out. When fighting sorcerers that make use of manabelts, make sure to target it as it is a known weak spot.


    Occasionally, monsters that do not possess the ability to use magic on their own, such as orcs, might have a manabelt attached to them. Since the host has no mana pool for the demon to dump its reserves in it must be attached directly to the hand or finger to channel the mana into magic devices. Having such a weak spot in an extremity makes the monster weaker when separated from their magic tools, make sure to disarm it.

 Industrious

    It was almost time for another smuggling job.


    This time, they would be spending more money than they were earning. The goblins were packed together like in a densely populated city. That amount of children couldn''t be fed with the hunt from the empty forests nearby, even if the warg wolves were helping out by dragging uneaten carcasses home. They were going to import food.


    Fyro would pay for most of their goods with dried rationing, something he said would be valued due to the risk involved in moving such large volumes himself.


    Scratch looked out over the masses of barely dressed goblin vassals sleeping in the open air without tents. It was a warm early summer night and there was no rain, but they had hardly any space to move in.


    "What about the hill tribe, didn''t you go out to get them?" He asked his lover.


    Lydia Harkness had recently arrived back at the village and snuck stealthily around the children s bodies to meet him at his porch without waking any of them.


    She shook her head. "Too late. The same story as with the mill."


    He massaged the painful throbbing parasite under his disconnected sleeve. "So what''s the deal with this ''slayer'' business? What does it mean and why can''t we just ice him like any of the other kids?"


    "Can I come inside?" She gestured at the cave with her head. "It is cold outside. I''ll tell you everything."


    "It''s not that cold."


    "Not for a goblin."


    "Okay, let''s get you nice and toasty."


    -


    The foyer was still strewn with furs and blankets. A pile of stolen books in one corner and a small unlit fireplace in the other.


    The main family slept here, Scratch''s brothers and nephews. As well as his hobgoblin children. The mass of bodies heated up the room with their metabolism.


    "Jasper, are you going to sleep soon too?" Scratch whispered to his son. The boy had two goblins laying on his legs and stomach and was looking at the pictures in one of the books.


    "No." The boy said.


    "Jasper, listen to your father." His mother insisted.


    "Just to the end of the chapter." He tried to bargain.


    "No, you-"


    But Scratch interrupted her. "You can read as much as you like. But we''ll all be waking up early in the morning, and you''ll hate yourself if you don''t get any sleep."


    "You just let him do whatever he likes." Harkness criticized Scratch.


    "I can''t make their decisions for them forever. We can only teach them about the consequences." He insisted.


    -


    When they had carefully pushed Kicker and Biter aside they had their own place to sit, Harkness with her back against the wall, Scratch on her lap.


    They quietly conversed in hushed tones.


    "Can you see anything?" He asked.


    "It''s too dark for me, but that''s fine." She answered.


    "Are you going to answer my question?"


    She hugged him a bit more tightly. "I want to..."


    "Then do."


    "I... come from a noble family, knights. The only people I ever knew were knights and baron families."


    "Yeah, so?"


    "Nobles aren''t the same as adventurers. Everything is strict, there''s rules for every part of your life."


    He tilted his head up to look at her, she could feel it move but continued to stare out into the darkness. He wondered where she was going with this.


    "I knew a boy then, my age-"


    "Should I be jealous?"


    "-my age. Also a knight. He was obsessed with killing goblins. He would skip training just to visit muddy hamlets and kill their goblins for them."


    "Tell-tale signs, that''s a serial killer."


    "He would tell me about it sometimes. About slaying goblins. You see, slaying and adventuring are different.


    Adventurers risk their lives, they seek out larger than life challenges to prove their worth and rise beyond their limits."


    She smiled. "Or they''re just kids playing around in low rank areas like you had to fight."


    "Slayer, is that a... technical term?"


    "It''s a title. Someone specialized in eradicating a certain species of monster. They don''t take risks, they don''t leave anything up to chance. Every suppression quest is a series of specific optimized steps to exterminate their enemy."


    "... A professional."


    "Yes. This isn''t someone your goblins can get the drop on Scratch. You won''t catch him by surprise with a trap or better weapons. They can''t even see him coming."


    After that they were quiet for a while.


    They could hear Jasper put away his book and disturb his cousins by turning over to sleep.


    -


    He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. "Can you give my a little spark?" He asked.


    In the light of her own fire she saw him light a cigarette.


    "I like that smell." She murmured as she rested her head on his and drifted off to sleep. "It smells... like... mana... potion..."


    Cyclophan. I''m properly spooked now. Tell me you can track the movements of this slayer guy on a map.


    I can only see lies. This man never lies, he hardly ever speaks. And in any case, I think that demon on your arm is more important.


    Who never lies? Everybody lies, what do you know about him?


    I told you, I can barely see him. The last time was when he got brushed off by the adventurers guild and now he''s here. You ignored my counsel and left my purview.


    So you can''t help me with the serial killer.


    Forget about that and listen to me! I am your god, and you will show me respect!


    Yeah, yeah. You wanted me to pick one of your own favorites. I''ll do that next time.


    I am not able to see what you''re doing when you leave my domain in the abyss. I knew what the entities in my domain were, but not the other ones.


    Sheesh, I didn''t mean to freak you out like that. Calm down, it''s a leech that turns blood into magic.


    It''s called a manabelt. And it just produces mana, that doesn''t give you the ability to cast spells without those spellrods. It''s trying to poison you, isn''t it?


    ...


    You have been continuously ordering it not to pump toxins into your bloodstream. You can thank me and my familiar ritual that it even obeys. Demons are sadistic, Scratch, that''s their defining trait. I was afraid that you were going to summon an intelligent one, one that could abuse the wording of your orders.


    ...While I was in there, I saw the demons as sparks of light of different sizes. Is that how big they are?


    The demons don''t have any form until summoned. The light is just the amount of power they have access to.


    How powerful they are?


    How much power they have access to.


    I''d like to summon more demons in the future. I can, right? I''m not limited to one. Or to any amount of power.


    You can have as many demonic familiars as you like, but it''s dangerous to gather too many demons in one place. You''ll make yourself an enemy of the gods.


    Hah, I already am. It isn''t like you to be so cautious.


    That should give you an indication on how scary the good gods are. There''s other uses of my devil altar you know. It''s used for curses and mastery over the dungeon.


    That catches my attention, you should have mentioned it sooner. I''ll have you explain it all to me tomorrow.


    Good. Interest in your job as dungeon keeper, that''s what I like to see.


    Scratch put out his cigarette. Oh, and Cyclophan? Thank you. For worrying about me.


    J-jeez. I have to guide my champion, right? Don''t get cocky.


    -


    The next day Jasper loudly groaned when the whole family had woken up and were talking over each other in a loud cacaphony.


    Combined with the mass of voices from the goblins outside it made it impossible to stay asleep.


    "Not so fun now, is it?" His father mocked him.


    "Nooo."


    "You''re gonna go to bed early next time?"


    "Yeees."


    <hr>


    Mildred looked around her uncomfortably. She didn''t want to run into any goblins.


    Not that she wouldn''t be able to fight them off. Goblins were a tier F fodder enemy, Mildred was a tier C adventurer, a trained mage. Even without guard to cover her body the halfling mage would probably be able to incinerate twelve goblin nests before lunch.


    But she wasn''t allowed to. That was the problem. If the thieves'' guild got wind of her venturing into their precious bandit woods her goose would be cooked.


    But that was the reason why she was here anyway. To find the man able to do that work for her.


    She cleared her throat. "You are a hard man to find."


    The vagabond didn''t twitch or freeze up at her sudden statement. She had thought he would be surprised at her sudden appearance, and perhaps lash out in shock, but he had been aware of her all along.


    "Yes." A gruff voice resounded deeply from within the man''s chest. He didn''t look up from the sword he was cleaning.


    The man had prepared a small camp. It was barely livable. No fire or tent, just a sleeping back and some equipment sorted carefully in the grass.


    "I knew I''d find you here somewhere. Remember me? Mildred from the guild, I promised you you''d find goblins here, and you did."


    "Hrm." He barely acknowledged her.


    She went to stand in front of him. "Am I a specter of the dead? At the very least, show me your face when we converse!"


    "No."


    She sighed. "I apologize. You are our goblin killing champion, aren''t you? You do realize, that if you took quests other than clearing goblin nests you would probably advance to level D quite easily. You''re a former knight I hear, there''s a lot of chatter about you in Eston as a local celebrity."


    "Hrm."


    "You must really like goblins."


    He violently stuck the weapon in the ground. "I HATE goblins!"


    She smirked. "At last, a reaction. Now, ask me why I''m here."


    "Why?"


    "I''m glad you asked. You see, the goblins here are a bigger problem than you realize. The quest board didn''t mention so many of them, did it?"


    Now the man did show interest. His face was obscured, but his body language showed him looking at her intently.


    "Can I sit down?" She planted herself on one of his bags so she didn''t have to sit in the wet grass. "Listen here. This area is under the protection of the thieves'' guild."


    He grasped his weapon.


    "I''m not with them, I''m not with them." She assured him. "But the adventurer''s guild is. That''s why there are no goblin extermination quests in this area."


    He seemed confused. "Then... the lords..."


    She stood up and turned away from him. "There is no barony of this land, and the count is so far way... To bother him with things like this-" She turned around. "It''s just a buncha goblins guarding stolen gold or what-have-you. What this situation needs isn''t an army, but a hero."


    "Hero..." He pondered.


    "That''s right. Once the thieves'' hoard has been confiscated, I''m sure the whole corruption will fall apart." She said confidently. And there won''t be any questions about who ratted them out to the law. She thought to herself. "What say you? Don''t you want to earn the prestige and admiration of a heroic title?"


    He stood up straight and clenched his fist. "I want... to kill goblins!"


    "That works too. Allow me to show you the time and the place."


    For the first time in a while she felt in control. The man would wipe out the bandit camp and avenge her colleagues for her, or he would die trying and take away the guild''s power to deny the danger of the forest. It didn''t help her situation, but it would give her a quantum of solace to know that hateful one-eye was at least punished. It was a relief to know she had an ally in the thieves'' guild to help her complete a plan like this.


    <hr>


    "A visitor! How nice." The witch didn''t show anger or discontent seeing the man show up at her orphanage. "Alpheba, how about you take the poor dear''s coat, huh?"


    "Yes ma''am." The apprentice complied.


    "You''ve trained her well, Lacrima." Fyro reacted.


    Alpheba looked slightly embarrassed. She was a witch in training, but the visitor painfully put the emphasis on her servile role in the household, trained to take the coat of visitors.


    "I don''t suppose you''re here to adopt, are you dearie?" Lacrima posited.


    "I''m simply here to check up on the dogs." He smiled, not able to commit sincerely to his role. "It''s been a time since we left them with you, hasn''t it?"


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "You can speak freely in front of my apprentice." Lacrima stated as they made their way to her office. "She and all the children are under my thrall."


    "In that case. Let''s discuss the goldmine, shall we?" He said without missing a beat. "And your interference."


    "Right this way, dearie. The old man is waiting in my study. , you stay here."


    -


    The path to Lacrima''s study was past an atrium exposed to the open air. In it a smattering of children of different ages stood perfectly still, lined up like toy soldiers. When the thieves'' leaders passed by they turned their heads to look at Fyro.


    "Your orphans still give me the creeps, old woman." He commented.


    "Just the creeps then? I had hoped you''d learn to fear my magic by now." She smugly answered as she opened the heavy wooden door to her room.


    "Don''t threaten me, witch, our mutual friend is keeping watch over this meeting. I think you know whose side he would pick."


    Her study smelled of old oak wood and books. It was a stuffy old room with small windows at the top and a great deal of bookcases.


    The third member of their little circle was already there. "Ah! Fyro, beautiful boy!" The garish old man stood up to greet him. "I haven''t seen you since that nasty business with your in-law. Barbie. Or whatever her name was."


    "Mac." He simply acknowledged him. Despite almost being middle-aged Fyro was by far the youngest person in the room, it made him feel youthful.


    -


    "Our fourth member is absent, as usual." Lacrima stated as she took a seat.


    "He''s got eyes everywhere." Fyro stayed standing.


    "Are you such an eye, Fyro?" Mac countered. "It hasn''t escaped anyone that you and our mysterious liege have a... special relationship. A mutual understanding among the nobility?"


    "I only wish." Fyro smiled wryly. "It''s because I''m the richest among all of you-" Mac was about to interrupted him but he talked over him. "It''s true. Trade and fence is the guilds'' biggest business, and the man likes to keep a finger on the pulse if nothing else. Determined to get his share. That''s why..." he turned to Lacrima "...it would be unwise to muscle in on our territory. You know, upsetting the balance of things and all. I''m sure a witch would understand."


    Mac raised an eyebrow. "Am I... missing something here?"


    "I should think so." The witch claimed. "The other Harkness is growing in power. We''re all eager to get a slice of the pie."


    "The trading routes belong to ME." Fyro insisted. "Step into my territory and I consider it a violation of our first rule."


    "The goblins snitched, didn''t they?" Lacrima tapped the arm of her chair in frustration.


    "I''m not stupid." The younger man scoffed. "I have lookouts documenting travelers for me. We know you visit the goblin nest. You''re lucky it was only once."


    She scoffed and quickly redirected the flow of conversation. "There won''t be much left of your investment for any of us, Fyro, if you don''t protect it against the law."


    Fyro became defensive. "I trust you to keep the cliffs off the adventurer''s quest board. Besides, they have Beatty''s goblins, they can protect themselves."


    "That''s another thing," Mac complained, "have any of us ever met this monster tamer individual? I don''t trust anyone I haven''t shaken hands with."


    "Some errant adventurer." Fyro dismissed it. "Lydia is in control. I know, I''ve seen it."


    Lacrima gave a knowing chuckle at his ignorance. "And what about you, young man? Are you in control of your cousin?"


    He puffed up his chest. "As long as I control registration, the bandits will do what I want."


    "Watch yourself Harkness." Mac warned. "The thieves'' guild can''t survive the prying eyes of your former family. We can''t risk a bandit fortress declaring its independence."


    "The bandits are loyal to me." Fyro lied. "I am dedicated to keeping them out of the public eye."


    <hr>


    Cyclophan abruptly stopped with his explanation of the devil altar. Fyro is lying. He said.


    So he did eat the last fish head, Scratch responded, is that really something you need to occupy yourself with?


    He was smoking a cigarette while sitting on the boarded up well, watching Harkness and their children try out magic.


    The village was overrun by innumerably many goblins from the outposts, but the paved square in front of the cave was still free for combat training.


    Not that Fyro. The other one. The thief. He was in a meeting with the other crimelords.


    It must be about something important. You''ve never called him out before.


    Listen to this. He wants to expose your town, to have it be attacked by adventurers and nobles. That''s his measure for curbing your power.


    But... that''s excellent.


    What?


    Do you understand what''s going on? If-


    -


    Ada loudly cussed. "Fuck! It''s not fair!"


    "Language!" Scratch yelled at her. "Fuck, it''s not *fun*."


    Up to three times Harkness had demonstrated how to emit fire from her mouth, but her children just couldn''t do it.


    After days of intensive study they could still only replicate basic magic spells, such as orbs of light, creating flames in the palm of their hands, or water condense.


    "It''s not about fun, Scratchy." The mother said strictly. "They need to be prepared to fight human warriors."


    "Didn''t you say hobgoblins are only capable of so much magic?" He put away his cigarette to hop down from the well and walk up to the class. "As a rule, a martial artists rely on their basic techniques 99 percent of the time."


    "What are our basic techniques then?" Angus wanted to know.


    "How about that grapple you''re still brute-forcing? Or the formation defense. We always fight in large swarms, that''s where our strength lies. Not these, sorry Lydia, garish light shows."


    "Swarm tactics won''t help us against a dedicated slayer." She claimed defensively. "This is not someone that leaves things up to chance. When we go out to meet him, he will isolate and confront us, at that point they need to be able to duel one-on-one."


    "Go out to meet him? No. You''re staying right here. What are you, suicidal?"


    They were clashing again. The children stood by awkwardly as their parents raised their voices.


    "We''re the founding strength of these people, Scratch, we have a duty to protect them!"


    "The point of being high status is that you don''t have to *risk* your own life."


    "Uhm..." Jasper raised his hand. "I''m not afraid or anything..."


    "That just makes it worse." Scratch fumed.


    Harkness sighed maternally. "I understand that you''re worried for your children, Scratch. I am too. But if we do not uphold our honor, we have no right to rule."


    Scratch grinded his teeth for bit, then smiled. "I see. So this is an honor thing. Let''s uphold the agreement, right? You do something honorable, I get to do something blasphemous."


    She hesitated for a moment. "Alright..."


    "Good. Kids, let me show you how else you can use your magic.


    Harkness snapped her finger at Stanford and gestured at him to follow them as Scratch dragged his children along to the deeper cave.


    <hr>


    "Ugh, the smell..." Stanford covered his nose as they came to the end of the tunnel and into the wolves'' den.


    It did smell like wet dog. Luckily the wolves were smart enough to know how to do their business outside without being trained to.


    They were friendly to him, he was known in the pack as a healer. But he shied away from them in the darkness of the grotto and didn''t let any of them sniff at him.


    "Have you two ever been this deep?" Scratch asked Harkness and Stanford.


    "Not recently." She said.


    "Not this deep, *this* deep." He uncovered the road to the elevator.


    "Goddess'' light..." Stanford stared into the inky blackness below.


    "I''d love to see the forge you worked so hard on." Harkness said, while brushing Felix'' hair, who happened to be standing next to her.


    "We can make a detour, hop in." Scratch said as he ducked under the pulley system and onto the elevator.


    The others had to crawl on all fours to get in.


    "No, Linus, not on your own, go get your brothers." The patriarch told the goblin that was about to release the spool.


    There was a counterweight to the system, but with the larger bodies on the platform that counterweight wouldn''t be enough.


    Eventually half a dozen goblins were gathered together to hold back the mechanism and slowly let down the plank.


    Angus made a magical light, showing rows upon rows of thin wooden bars roll past them, the lattice that formed the elevator shaft.


    "I hope the goblins can hold us." Stanford commented.


    "I hope the ropes can hold us." Said Jasper, rubbing his eyes.


    They passed the broken off stalactite that was being used as a counterweight and eventually reached the floor.


    -


    "Lydia, Stan, this is your first time on the factory floor, welcome." Scratch gestured towards the path.


    It was a series of planks leading through the drip stone forest on various elevations, over which the goblins were able to carry heavy objects on stable footing.


    Ada and her brother were already running ahead.


    "Can you see the forge from here?" Scratch asked.


    Harkness strained her eyes by the pale light of Angus'' spell. "I think so, it looks like a castle."


    The forge was the size of a building, looking even larger with the scaffolding surrounding it.


    After a few minutes of walking they could fully appreciate its full size.


    -


    "Did the Eston witch come up with these plans?" Stanford asked.


    The brick cube had holes on the lower sides to suck in air and a large opening on top to hurl materials in and let smoke out. The inside was a smooth surface, like a kettle, but with the spout at the bottom.


    The bottom spout was supposed to pour the pure steel into a mold after the impurities had risen to the surface. That same waste product had to later be drained through the same tunnel.


    There was a bed of ingot-shaped molds that could be moved under the static opening and a barrel of water at the front of the structure for the end product to cool in.


    "I''m sure she got them from somewhere," Scratch answered, "no idea what it has to do with witchcraft though. Look over there."


    On large reed mats to the side lay the intermediate materials; limestone and strange sandy gray plates.


    Scratch left the path to pick up one of the gray chunks, he broke it easily with his hand. "I thought pig iron meant iron that was forged wrong, but it''s for making steel." He exclaimed to the others.


    Behind him various goblins were breaking up the scaffolding and wooden lattice that had been used to lay the bricks for the cube, though not with much enthusiasm or haste.


    Out of the group George came forward, he had been closely observing the forge''s progress since the start and wanted to be the one to explain it. "Yes! We make pig iron by melting iron and clay above and we''re gonna mix it all together here in a really really hot fire!"


    "It does sort of look like a witches'' cauldron." Harkness observed.


    "We can use the wood here to start the fire." George pulled on Scratch''s upper arm. "Can we try it out? Can we do it today?"


    "Can we start a fire that big?" Scratch asked the others suggestively.


    "Yes! I can do that, I can start fires!" Ada jumped up proudly.


    "Perhaps it''ll be quicker if I-" Her mother started, but Scratch cleared his throat and Stanford nudged her.


    -


    It didn''t take long for the goblins to arrange the re-purposed scaffolding into pyres underneath the stone bowl.


    Charcoal and wood were stacked together into chaotic piles and short towers.


    "If anybody is still playing hide-and-go-seek in there now is the time to get out! It''s about to be set on fire." Scratch yelled into the fireplace. After a moment of contemplation he added, "Fire hurts!"


    "Look at that." Stanford commented, "a way to use your magic."


    The hobgoblins stood at different entrances to the space and lit the pyres with their simple utility magic.


    At the last moment a goblin did come running out that had been hiding in there.


    "Go tell your mother how you almost died!" Scratch yelled out after him.


    Behind him the fire began to surge fast, as the air holes voraciously sucked in the air around them it created a strong draft and the heat increased.


    They had to take their distance. The cube was now a shiny orange lantern in the darkness, lighting up the cave.


    The materials were thrown in piece by piece by George and Yuki. "How about we help them out and speed things up?" Scratch told his children, but didn''t do anything himself.


    After half an our the open furnace was fill with melting stone, hot enough to melt your eyebrows off if you stood above it.


    "If this works, and we create steel, we will be one of the most powerful forces in the county." Harkness mentioned.


    "What the-? How? How in the world?" Scratch was slightly offended by the idea that something so simple could be so insignificant in a world of fire spells and frog transformations.


    "Steel isn''t like other metals," she explained while staring into the bright orange fire, "it doesn''t come out of the ground pure and ready to hammer. Adventurers can''t gather it in the wild, it requires a process like this to make. Other than super rare special materials like orichalcum steel is the best and most powerful material to outfit a warrior with, the nobility restrict its production so only they have access to it."


    "So this Lacrima person is trying to gather military grade weaponry." Scratch pondered. "To sell? No. That''s not her business... then what?"


    "That''s what I''ve been worrying about." Harkness responded.


    -


    After a while the first steel could be poured out into molds.


    "Doesn''t anybody have any blacksmithing gloves around here." Scratch asked.


    "We should have put it on the list." Stanford mentioned. "For when we meet with Fyro tomorrow. It''s probably to late to request them now."


    "You can touch hot metal if your hands are wet." George demonstrated by submerging his hands in the water barrel and then moving the clay mold with them. There was a sizzling noise that made only Scratch flinch and he held up his palms that were unburned.


    "Please do use gloves in the future. Or even winter mittens." Scratch pleaded.


    Meanwhile Felix put his hand directly on the steel that was being poured in. There was a sudden burst of white steam flowing everywhere and he sucked in air through his teeth. "Ouch."


    "Felix, baby, what are you doing?" Harkness wanted to know.


    "I used the water magic to make my hand wet so I could touch it."


    Stanford waved away the steam trying to see again. "I understand now. Lights, sparks and drips aren''t for combat.


    These spells show their power in their utility. That''s what you wanted to show, wasn''t it Scratch? Another way to use magic."


    "What? No. I wanted to show them how to curse objects, we just got distracted."


    <hr>


    "Let''s see." Scratch planted himself behind the altar and began puffing on his cigarette.


    The family sat packed in tightly in the small tent around the table, but he had faith that the table adequately hid the evil dungeon core from the sight of the more world weary humans.


    "How do you usually teach magic to others?" He began, while putting a small bundle of handmade rope on top of the altar.


    Stanford looked to his leader to see if she was going to say anything, then started himself. "A sense of magic is instinctive, a student will generally simply observe the magic of the teacher and imitate it."


    "There are ways to guide yourself." Harkness added. "When we cast fire magic we usually invoke Rhada''s name. The fire goddess embodies all fire, when I utter the phrase ''Rhada''s breath'' that resonates with the shape my spell has to take."


    "Indeed." Stanford nodded. "It''s the same with Benesant''s healing. Though experienced healers can do without."


    "Okay." Scratch took the cigarette out of his mouth, it seemed like he was trying to listen to something, then he spoke.


    "I''m going to make a buncha noises, you kids try to follow suit, yeah?"


    The hobgoblins made agree hmpfs and nods.


    Scratch''s chant as he laid his hands on the table didn''t invoke the name of any god, nor did it sound like an recognizable phrase at all. It was a series of sinister snake-like sounds and gasps.


    "Did that make any sense to you a magician?"


    "Mage." Stanford corrected him.


    "Whatever."


    "That was... complicated." Harkness answered. "I couldn''t keep track of it to be honest."


    But the hobgoblins mulled it over in their hands, moving their hands while envisioning the shape.


    Ada reached out to the rope, but Felix snatched it first. Without hesitation he perfectly reproduced the buzzing curse.


    Harkness looked on in surprise, but Scratch showed smug approval. "We''re a species that learns a language in a day," he whispered, "I''m thinking complicated incantations are perfect for goblins, if the big intense ones aren''t."


    When Felix was done the rope didn''t seem any different, yet he was confident. "It attached." He said.


    "Can you tell what it does?" Jasper asked him.


    "I think so." The boy wound the rope around his own wrist. It seemed to move loosely up and down his forearm, but when he tugged on it it refused to glide off his body.


    "A binding curse." Scratch explained. "An expert craftsman would spend his whole life trying to come up with a lock mechanism that can''t be picked, and a little curse like this creates the perfect cuffs. I mean, especially with steel, forget about it!"


    "But you can''t take them off." Stanford said with a sour expression on his face.


    "Yeah, that''s kinda the point."


    "You do need to eventually take off a pair of manacles." Harkness pointed out. "If only to reuse them."


    Now Felix became slightly panicked as the prospect of being stuck with the rope for eternity dawned on him. He began tugging the thing violently.


    "Hey, hey stop." Scratch commanded. "Stanford?"


    "I won''t be here every time." The healer stated.


    "I won''t make you do it every time, this is just a demonstration."


    The man sighed and relented and took the hobgoblins wrist. "Judgment of Benesant." The rope fell off.


    "Did you remove the whole curse?" Jasper wanted to know.


    "Try it out." Ada goaded him.


    "The spell merely suppresses the curse so it can be taken off." Stanford explained. "The church often services adventurers by removing cursed equipment that they had picked up somewhere. Those usually have additional effect."


    "Well I''m relieved." Harkness stood up. "I was afraid that you would introduce more evil flesh bending or demonic magic to us. Comparatively, this is quite innocent."


    "That is true." Stanford added. "A curse isn''t by itself dark magic, it''s part of the tradition of witchcraft."


    Scratch raised the eyebrow of his working eye. "You really should draw me a map sometimes. Does that mean I am still owed one?"


    Harkness'' jaw clenched for a bit. "Fine."


    <hr>


    The next day food stores had run out and the goblins wouldn''t be able to eat until that afternoon when the bandits had come back from trading.


    The bandits were already at the rendezvous point when Mabel arrived.


    She used to have a more involved role in handling contraband, but with the arrival of her current husband Fyro and his recruitment of bandits many years ago she had refocused more on keeping a home and intimidating shopkeepers. She was now raising a family.


    Yet today the task was delegated to her again. Fyro had to be present at a baptism, show respect to members of the guild.


    It didn''t matter, the bandits weren''t dangerous and the job didn''t consist of much more than the simple exchange of goods.


    "And thirty crates of dried meet and tack..." she read out loud from the list while chewing. "...whattaya need all that tack for?"


    "We feed it to our goblins." The bandit knight stated curtly.


    Still chewing Mabel looked around at the bandit troupe, there were goblins helping with the carrying. Some were even sitting on warg wolves. "Oh yeah... Beatty''s goblins. I remember."


    She kept chewing for a while and watched the others move the boxes. Eventually she crouched down and tugged


    Scratch on his sleeve. "Hey you... is Barbara, you know, still alive?"


    "Is that concern or curiosity?" He remarked contemptuously.


    She didn''t answer.


    Scratch put down his crate. "Did you hear about this goblin slaying individual everybody''s talking about? Apparently he''s a big deal."


    "Scratchy, come on." Harkness recognized his playful mood and urged him to back down.


    "No, I''m serious, did you hear about him? Do they tell you anything at all?"


    "Uhm, I''m not a goon. Fyro and I are partners." Mabel responded insulted.


    "Oh, that''s right, you''re the other half of the power couple. Doesn''t that make you in-laws Lydia?" He cooed.


    "Forget it." She exasperated and shook her head. "I should have know that a goblin can''t-"


    "Where exactly do your loyalties lie, sister?" Scratch hissed with an accusatory tone.


    "W-what?"


    "There''s a psychopath out there killing my brothers and he didn''t wander in here by accident."


    "That''s enough." Harkness pulled him away.


    He wrestled loose from her arm. "This goblin slayer, he''s the enemy, yeah? If he comes back raving about a bandit camp you ice him, yeah?"


    "Of course!" Mabel responded.


    "Of course you would. Anything else would be betraying the family, oh sorry, the guild. Wouldn''t it? That''s not what the power couple would do, is it?"


    Mabel straightened herself and addressed Harkness directly as the leader. "Are you accusing us of something!?"


    The thieves'' guild members stopped in their tracks at the direction the conversation had gone.


    "Not me." The goblin was the one to answer again. "Career criminals, we have a set of shared values. We see things from the same angle." He then unsubtly pointed up at the bandit leader behind his hand in a display of faux secrecy.


    "But these noble-born, you know how it is, no respect for the code. Doesn''t hurt their honor to sell out a thief." He said from the side of his mouth.


    The career criminal looked up and down at the two, the implication was crystal clear to her. "But what would he-? He would never!" Her lackeys behind her looked at each other meaningfully.


    Scratch shrugged at everybody returned to their business.


    The bandits'' wagons were only just loaded when a load noise came from the direction of the mine, a deep rumbling from the movement of great amounts of earth.


    "The village!" Someone called out. "Someone is causing a cave-in!"


    "Just when the guard is away." Harkness cussed. "Scratch, boys, take the dogs. Tell the kids to meet us at the gate.


    We''ll be right behind. Audace, Aimone, we''re taking the wagon horses. Gildo and Huckabee, you stay here."


    The orders were sort and clear and the outlaws obeyed immediately.


    Before speeding away on the dog-turned-wolf Scratch turned around to Mabel and said "Barbara is alive and thriving, she''s starting a family of her own."


    The woman was left behind feeling both relieved and disgusted.


    -


    "Did we just get passed over?" Gildo asked Huckabee.


    <hr>


    Finder''s Keepers


    Adventurers are entitled to keep loot found within monster overrun territory. This practice is universal in all four realms.


    The equipment and riches of earlier fallen warriors can be freely claimed by members of the adventurers'' guild. This way the materials continue to be put to good use and adventurers can find additional rewards in the wilderness.


    Unfortunately this law has been abused in the past by criminals intentionally attacking rival adventurers to claim their possessions for themselves without knowledge of the guild. Once ousted as criminals these false adventurers are immediately stripped of their citizenry and labeled as bandits.


    In the case of extraordinary or unique items such as commissioned by the high nobility the original owners or heirs have right of first refusal to buy it from the adventurer. The prices offered by these families are high and fair and the transaction is an honor to partake in, they should not be refused.

 Desperation

    Violet paced after her rescuer. She kept a slower pace than she had to, to hold him back.


    She wasn''t happy, but she certainly wasn''t distraught. The goblins had almost forced her into her previous arrangement, seeing as the bandit troupe had been thinned out and the promise of citizenship an unlikely pipe dream. She had little love for the monsters that had been using her as an insect queen to build their little fort. It didn''t traumatize her to see them so systematically eradicated by the adventurer.


    Still, the current situation was far from ideal. She had lost the colony Harkness had entrusted her with and was now under the protection of a goblin slayer. The man had naturally assumed that she was a farm girl captured by the subhumans and held against her will. She played along with this, not to receive the treatment of an outlaw bandit, but the fiction came with constraints.


    She couldn''t let him escort her to safety. At the city she would quickly be identified as an outlaw, even a farm girl from nowhere would have citizen registration. And she couldn''t very well part with him in the middle of the forest either, it didn''t fit her established character.


    So now she was behind him, venturing deeper into the woods, back toward''s Harkness'' hamlet. He was going to bring her back only after attacking the evil at its source.


    "Is that the best equipment you have?" She asked rudely. "You know you can buy new stuff at the adventurers'' guild, right?"


    "Goblins pick up adventurers'' weapons, it''s best to use cheap ones, they do the job." He answered without looking at her.


    The man was covered in scratched up tin plates with a helmet that covered his entire face. On his hip was a sword and in his fist a mace, both old and worn but impeccably maintained, and he was carrying a large shoulder bag for miscellaneous equipment. He stank like an animal, he hadn''t taken the outfit off in weeks.


    "You should at least travel with a party."


    He stopped abruptly and turned around, she almost bumped into him.


    "No more words out of you," he demanded dryly, "I have been slaying goblins for two decades. I know how it''s done, leave me to it." Despite his disheveled appearance there was a hint of sophistication in his voice.


    "I''m just trying to help." She lied.


    He began to walk again. "Then tell me what you know about this strain, any special types among them?"


    She remembered Harkness'' own litter. As a highborn she had produced stronger goblins. "Only the hob-" She cut herself off.


    "Hobgoblins?" He grunted. "That''s bad. They''re the same species, but stronger. They must have dominated the smaller ones."


    "Y-yeah?"


    "Have you seen the main nest?"


    "N-no." She lied again.


    He resumed walking, at a briskly this time, setting the pace himself. "Stronger goblins can dominate larger tribes. The nest might be bigger than I can handle on my own."


    "I''m sure it''s fine." She insisted. "There''s probably other adventurers around here to team up to." She had a faint hope that he would unsuspectingly approach some of her bandit friends.


    "Hrm."


    -


    After not too long they began to see trails of smoke snaking into the sky, close to each other. It was right against the sea cliffs.


    "Humans." Violet claimed. "Let''s meet up with them. I, uh, would feel a lot safer in a community."


    "No." The goblin slayer. "Could be bandits."


    "But there are no bandits here."


    "I thought you had never seen the nest."


    "No. I haven''t. I just... assumed-"


    "We''re veering to the side, finding a vantage point." He gestured with his hand as he said it.


    She greedily used her opportunity to shut up, but wondered about what kind of man he was to lead a saved damsel into danger like this.


    -


    The vantage point he found was the cliffs themselves.


    They stopped at the rock wall a significant distance to the south of the smoke trails. The signs of civilization were barely visible.


    "Tie this to your waist, we''re climbing up." He tossed her the end of a long rappelling rope and began to retrieve other mountaineering equipment from his bag.


    "Why do you have this." She wondered out loud.


    "Adventuring isn''t like exterminating monster pets on an acre." He had an admonishing tone like a disappointed father.


    "We need to travel through caves, mountains, rivers. Scaling the environment is the primary challenge, that''s what requires preparation."


    She scoffed but obeyed anyway and tied the rope to her waist. "Well, you better not drop me. I''m not an adventurer like you."


    They scaled the wall slowly as he secured the rope to the rock every few meters with his equipment.


    "Wait. I changed my mind. Just leave me at the bottom, I''m sure it''ll be safe."


    "Shut up."


    The ridge was four stories high and it took more than an hour to reach the top. In the last stretch Violet stopped doing her best and simply let herself be lifted up by the goblin slayer''s considerable strength.


    He didn''t grunt or complain pulling her onto the top. "Now we approach the nest." He simply said.


    -


    The cliffs were a thin ridge of stone setting a hard border border between the forest floor on one side and the much lower sea level on the other.


    The top was relatively flat and they could hike casually over it.


    "Are you just going to leave your rope thingies?" Violet asked.


    "I''ve got the rope, the copperheads are expendable." He explained through his face covering.


    -


    Compared to the time it had taken to hike through the forest and climb the rock, they arrived at the encampment relatively quickly.


    This was the first time Violet got to see the village from such a top-down view. It''s wasn''t very pretty.


    Besides the overpopulation of goblins crawling around the small village like maggots, the layout of the structures wasn''t neat and planned out.


    The wall the protected the perimeter was a lopsided circle, the two warehouses stood right across the from gate with a short fat road between them.


    The other buildings like the water tower and the goblin''s platform stood alone with no road leading to them, ugly pathways of dead grass in-between.


    The mud huts of the goblins, close to the cave opening and hard to see from the top of the ridge, came across as relatively elegant in comparison. Despite their primitive nature.


    She tried to come up with a way to signal to the others without raising the adventurer''s suspicions.


    He groaned. "Bandits." He had seen the human constructions. Perhaps even spotted some humans navigating the sea of monsters.


    "Yeah! You were right. Is this too many? It''s too many, let''s go back."


    But he didn''t move. "Must have a tamer. Or allied with a strong goblin type."


    "You''re not... You''re not going to fight all of them, are you?"


    He looked at her and then back at the village. "Let''s get closer."


    "Oh, no..." She groaned.


    -


    While they traveled over the top of the stone wall, to be directly above the cave, he began to explain.


    "When goblins gather in large armies, it''s called a goblin horde. Kingdoms will lose good men trying to fight goblin hordes by marching troops."


    "So if it''s too much for an army it''s definitely too much for an adventurer, right?" She responded.


    "It''s too much because they try to close them in, like when battling another army. What needs to be done is to drive them apart, scatter them. Then exterminate them separately, a slayer knows this."


    They were standing directly above the village now.


    "How are you planning on doing that?" She asked.


    "I need to find the lynchpin. The strongest goblin that''s controlling them, and kill it. Then I destroy the home."


    "Destroy it? Just like that?"


    He retrieved magic items from his bag. "To drive a goblin into panic you need to make a big impact. Even then, they will still fight if you block off the escapes. There is a gate, so all we need to supply is the big impact."


    He put down paper charms on the stone surface.


    "What are those?" Violet wanted to know.


    "Spellpaper. I''m collapsing the stone to crush the huts right below. An explosion of that size should be enough to drive them away, hopefully it will kill a good portion too."


    "That''s..." Violet was disturbed, but could not condemn his actions. After all, killing goblins was a good thing, and human collateral was a bonus if they were bandits.


    "After that," he pointed into the mass, "I kill the hobgoblins, so they can''t reunite the horde."


    "Listen, don''t blow up the mountain right now. We''re standing on it, we''d die."


    "I''m waiting until the bandit guard leaves. After that I can probably ride the rock slide down. As for you..."


    He turned to her. His expression was still hidden behind his helmet, but he had a threatening aura.


    "I see now that the thieves'' guild has stationed bandits with the goblins. That makes all humans suspicious."


    "What? I... no. Listen, I''m a victim. The goblins took- I''m from a farm..."


    He brandished his sword. "Either I risk having killed an innocent woman, or I risk letting these goblins live. That''s an easy choice."


    Violet breathed in to start screaming like a kitchen kettle, but before she had even fully filled her lungs the sword struck the side of her head. The thing wasn''t as sharp and light as what knights usually carry, but the sheer weight and force of the swing crushed a part of her skull and concussed her brain. She fell to the ground. The sharp edge had struck blood, but that was the least of her injury.


    "I always forget that a human takes more hits." He grumbled as he began hacking into her.


    She made a faint noise, a proof of life and suffering before it was snuffed out. He kicked her body over the side into the sea.


    Then he sat down, watched the village, and awaited his moment.


    <hr>


    "Does it work?" Angus asked Felix.


    The four children were leaning against the watchtower, close enough to the gate to keep an eye of who came in and out. They were wearing simple padded clothing, protective, but not quite armor.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    The other hobgoblin held the red healer''s pendant tightly in his grip. "There''s too many goblins around, I can''t make out anything specific."


    "Tell them to leave. If everybody goes into the cave we can defend the village on our own." Ada proclaimed.


    "The pendant doesn''t matter, we have our magic weapons. Once he shows up we''ll know anyway." Angus held up the cursed bolas.


    Their throwing weapons were ropes woven together to have three ends, with metal weights on each. When slung towards and enemy they would naturally tangle around them, and the curse of binding made sure the victim wouldn''t untangle that easily.


    "But you don''t know," Felix insisted, "he''s a super warrior that kills you before you realize he''s there. But with this," he held up the pendant, "I can feel the sensations of anyone that''s near. If he sneaks up on us, I''ll feel his heart beating in his chest."


    "Papa says that if he attacks he''ll attack while mama is away." Jasper said. "That''s right now."


    "Let him come," Ada flexed her bicep, "we''re ready for him! Goblin knights!"


    Right then a flicker of light shone over the stone cliff and with a deep rumbling sound a mass of stone barreled down.


    Suddenly the rock made a thundering explosive sound as it impacted with the ground, covering the cave entrance and crushing most of the work huts in front of it.


    Felix stiffened as he felt someone get crushed, but the sensation was soon snuffed out as they quickly died.


    An oppressive cloud of powered stone swept through the entire village and up to the perimeter wall. Goblins everywhere were running away from the source, stumbling over each other to do so.


    -


    Without having to think about it the goblin knights rushed into the clouds, their legs were long enough to wade through the goblin mass, but it slowed them down, until almost all fleeing goblins had passed.


    An arrow came flying at Felix from where the square had previously stood, it scraped his cheek. A few centimeters to the right and he would have died, but that didn''t occur to him. "To the left!" He grinned while holding the pendant. "His legs are sore... or maybe that''s my own legs."


    Heeding his brother''s words Jasper didn''t aim where the arrow had come from, but where the enemy was running towards. A shadow in the dust darted to the left and the bolas whirled towards it. It seemed like it struck true, but the shadow disappeared before the dust had settled.


    "Did that hit?" Angus asked.


    "It did." Felix confirmed. "He''s hiding behind the bloomery."


    Ada still held a bolas, Angus and Felix were brandishing adventurers'' swords, they circled around the still remaining mud hut.


    Jasper held back as he began to heat up the head of his mace with fire magic.


    None of them caught on in time that their enemy had vaulted over the top of the hut.


    The slayer had cut the tangling rope. It still clung to the side of his torso and left arm, but didn''t bind them together.


    They barely caught a glimpse of it as he jumped down the other side of the building, almost on top of Jasper and struck him to the ground with his shoulder.


    "Jasper!" Some of the older goblins had finally muscled through the crowd and came running towards the fight.


    George, Fyro, Mac, and Benjamin lined up with shields and spears between the slayer and the rest of the village. If he wanted to flee the scene he would have to go trough them.


    He didn''t seem impressed. He lifted up his sword to pierce Jasper''s stomach, but had to turn around and hack Ada''s bolas in twain before it hit him.


    Angus charged at the man, their weapons clashed with all the weight the hobgoblin had in him, but he wasn''t able to push him back. He tried again to heave at him with all the strength he had, but the human knight was just too strong to lose footing.


    They fenced with their swords a bit. Angus knew the proper stances and was able to keep his enemy occupied just fighting defensively, not taking any risk by trying to create an opening.


    While the two clashed weapons Jasper scooted backwards to stand up and his other siblings came to approach the man from behind too.


    "Far too clever for goblins." The adventurer panted from behind his covered face. He reached into a pouch by his pant leg and spun around throwing crushed glass into their eyes.


    "Argh!" The weapon was mean and painful and the three hobgoblins dropped their weapons to reach for their eyes.


    Now with his back towards Angus the adventurer rather easily threw off the first attacker by driving his armed elbow into his ribs and then smashing the pommel of his word against his temple. The hobgoblin staggered back and fell over.


    "To use a healer''s pendant for such a purpose..." The slayer picked up the red chain from amidst the writhing goblins.


    "What holy man did you take this from, huh?" He lifted his sword above his head to finish off the groaning hobgoblin in front of him.


    "Don''t-" Angus'' voice rang hoarsely behind him, "turn your back on me yet."


    He had scrambled to his feet quickly to distract the human from finishing off his siblings. He held his sword as outstretched as possible, pointing it at his enemy in an accusatory manner.


    "Got anymore nasty tricks in your pocket?" He asked sincerely.


    The adventurer didn''t answer his question but began to close the distance between them, sword in hand.


    Angus walked backwards, towards the blocked off cave, switching his sword between hands for a bit. "So you''re stronger than me, huh? So what? You think all I can do is brute force?"


    The slayer lunged at him, Angus touched blades, but rather than push it back he pushed it to his side, redirecting the weight to where he wanted it to. The man barreled to his side and he used all of his strength to keep the momentum going, turning the two of them around and pushing the slayer''s back against the collapsed rock.


    -


    "I think that''s the first time I ever did that correctly." Angus chuckled. He was now in-between the slayer and his siblings.


    His brothers and sisters still weren''t able to recover from their bleeding eye sockets, but the goblins had moved their shield wall forward to protect the young hobgoblins.


    The slayer summoned a burst of strength and pushed his weapon against Angus''. But again the hobgoblin was able to use his own momentum against him, blocking the man''s leg and grabbing his elbow to push him to the ground. They landed on top of each other.


    "You only fight weaker enemies, don''t you." Angus started to gloat, as he twisted his enemy''s arm trying to pin him down. "You don''t have any experience fighting someone with technique."


    "Just. Die." The slayer wrestled his arm free and rolled on top of the goblin. Both their weapons had fallen to the side and he tried to strangle him.


    Angus gurgled as he held on tightly to the man''s thumbs to prevent them from pushing in his larynx.


    Stones from a sling and hand bow arrows from the goblins deflected off the human. Seeing that he didn''t have much time left before the other members of the nest would manage to pull him off the hobgoblin, he lifted his head and brought the metal helmet down on his enemy''s head.


    Angus soundlessly screamed as the headbutt broke his nose. He began to struggle harder, but the man now held a tight grip on his hands and continued to smash his face in with his helmet.


    Eventually the goblin stopped struggling. His body twitched as it broke down and filth began to leak from his bowels. He was dead.


    <hr>


    The slayer stood up to face the others.


    The goblins that had been approaching now fell back into their turtle formation again.


    He picked up his sword from the ground and walked up to the group.


    The hobgoblins were blind, but they had a tight grip on their melee weapons. The goblins were protecting them and fiercely facing down the enemy.


    "Just stand still." George told the others. "He can''t charge into-"


    The slayer closed his fingers in a ring around his mouth. "Rhada''s Breath!" As he leaned forward and exhaled a fan of flames engulfed the group. They scattered, their clothes were burning and they were in pain.


    The slayer stepped right over the goblins, who were rolling on the floor, and after the hobgoblins, who were running away, stumbling.


    The surviving hobgoblins fled towards the human buildings at the other side of the village.


    They non-combatant bandit men that lived in the tents had fled alongside the goblins, but there were warg wolves loitering around the warehouses.


    Mewling, the hobgoblins curled up each separately behind crates and walls.


    "Goblins..." The slayer muttered to himself. They were advanced, probably tamed. There could be traps, ambushes.


    He caught a glimpse of a wolf slinking off.


    He then held up the healer''s pendant and decided to put it on, to get information about his enemies. Rather than keeping it in his clutched hand like the hobgoblin he properly equipped it, putting it over his helmet and on his shoulders.


    The effect was immediate and uncomfortable. He could feel the stinging of the crushed glass as if it was in his own eyes, making him tear up. But he could also feel the hobgoblin female leaning against a wooden crate with her heart beating in her throat.


    He entered the warehouse and was able to pinpoint where she had to be hiding immediately. His eyes hurt from the pendant but it didn''t come off immediately, so he approached her hiding place with it still on.


    She was crying now, he could hear it from where he stood.


    Standing over her crate he was about to land a killing blow when he could hear commotion outside. The human combatants had to be back, he had taken much too long.


    -


    The slayer appeared in the warehouse entrance.


    Outside were no humans, but there were goblins riding wargs.


    One of them, wearing an eye patch, climbed down from his mount and stood in front of the human as if addressing an equal.


    "You''ve been attacking my kids."


    The man ignored him and exited the doorpost, he looked around to see if there was anyone around that could be a threat to him.


    The wolves growled at him. They could be a threat, if he let one flank him. The goblins were pouring back into the encampment too. There was something about the wolf riders that gave them confidence.


    He looked at the eye patch goblin again.


    "What, no pleading for mercy? You realize I''m a made man, right?"


    Without thinking much about it the man thrusted his sword at the goblin.


    The goblin''s right hand closed around the blade of the sword, it pulled the weapon away from his face but it cut deeply into his fingers.


    Feeling the pain in his own sword hand the slayer fumbled with the pendant around his neck, trying to get it off.


    Then the goblin squeezed down on the weapon, the metal scraped against his finger bones.


    "Ah!" The man screamed in pain and dropped his weapon. He desperately pulled at the chain, trying to remove it with all his strength.


    "It''s cursed, stupid. Curse of binding." The made man let go of the weapon and held out his bleeding hand. Another goblin came with some bandages to stem the bleeding. "That''s why I had it taken into battle, it''s a trap. Although," he looked at a hobgoblin being supported by a human bandit, "you weren''t supposed to carry it yourself."


    "Sorry dad. I didn''t want to endanger our friends."


    "Did anyone die?"


    The hobgoblin whined a bit, his words couldn''t be made out.


    "We''ll talk later." Said his father.


    <hr>


    Two bandit men held the attacker down and removed his helmet and other armor.


    It had to be the first time in month since his face had seen the light of day, it was greasy and pale, his hair long and split was draped over his nose and cheeks, sticking to it from the sweat.


    "Monsters. I''ll kill you." He thrashed around with his arms while the goblins surrounded him. He had lost his main weapon, and any method his did have for hurting them would cause him the same immense pain.


    "Would you? Would that bring you pleasure?" Scratch said with contempt.


    "I hate you. I hate goblins." He growled with a deep guttural rage.


    "Yeah. I don''t think so." Scratch mused as he brushed aside the hair of the helplessly restrained human. "If you hated goblins, you wouldn''t ever want to meet them. But you seek us out. I know who you are, you call yourself a goblin slayer. You go out looking for goblins."


    The slayer tried to wrestle himself free to no avail. He didn''t have an answer to Scratch''s words, they only confused him.


    "When somebody like you says they hate something, what they really mean is that they''ve found an excuse to hate something. An outlet for their anger and violence. That''s my experience."


    "No. That''s not true! I... I can''t suffer goblins to live because they pillage and rape! My family-"


    "Oh everybody pillages and rapes." Scratch waved away the idea. "You wouldn''t know what to do with your life if there weren''t any goblins. A desk job? Maybe selling fish at the farmer''s market? Come on boy, you''re a killer. Admit it."


    The man only grinded his teeth.


    "Well, that''s about enough." Scratch decided. "Do you have all his weapons? Then let him go."


    "Do you want me to remove the pendant?" Stanford asked. He had just finished healing Felix.


    "Let him keep it. It''s a good surrogate for the real thing."


    "Pa. You''re going to let him live?" Jasper sounded distraught, he was still blind but he could heal what was going on.


    "We''re going to let him go."


    "Pa. He killed Angus. Killed him, bashed his head in like a...."


    "Angus is dead?" Scratch took his son''t hand in his own. "Kid... I''m so sorry. But killing won''t bring anybody back."


    "He''s likely to come back however." Stanford interjected. "Get the curse removed, and return to finish the job."


    "I don''t think so." He then addressed the goblin slayer. "In a few minutes the mother of my children will arrive. She is a lot more traditional than me. If she finds out that you killed her eldest, she will kill you."


    The man looked dumbfounded.


    "Run." Scratch blurted out and the invader cringed and started walking away from him, cautiously backward.


    The goblin patriarch stood up and lifted himself above the crowd, to address all the goblins from the colonies that had gathered there. "Boys! This man is the enemy you feared! Boo him! Boooo!"


    A few in the crowd grasped what he wanted them to do and began to boo, then the rest followed. They aggressively booed the man trying to make his way between them.


    "This is a promise. The promise is that our people will survive against people like him, he will not harm you!"


    The goblins began to kick his shins and throw sticks at him. Afraid to do anything he held his head down and slunk off.


    "You can''t do this." Ada complained. "What about Angus? Why wouldn''t he come back?"


    "Shh." Scratch comforted her by stroking her head. "It''s going to be alright, he''s gone now. You''re safe."


    Suddenly the stress and anguish she had felt came to her, she gripped his hand tightly and began to cry.


    <hr>


    "You should have let me kill him." Harkness proclaimed.


    "I thought you would feel that way, that''s why I didn''t." Scratch answered as he sipped from a mug of magically purified water.


    "Mama. Angus is dead..." Jasper cried into her shoulder.


    "I know honey. He was very brave."


    "I wish he had been less brave." Scratch sighed. "You''re all so brave naturally. Please treasure your own lives as we do yours."


    "Scratch." She hissed.


    "What?"


    "But really, why did you have to let him live?" Ada wanted to know.


    "Several reasons." Scratch explained. "First, as I mentioned before, we are weak compared to the great wide human civilization that surrounds us. We can''t risk being seen as aggressors."


    "Only punch down." She whispered.


    "Exactly. We know from the thieves'' guild that this man was known in town, and so was his mission. If we had killed him in this forest they would have put two and two together and put us front street. And that feeds into my second reason. That Fyro has been getting away with it for far too long."


    "You''re not talking about the fish heads, are you?" Harkness wanted to know.


    "No. The other Fyro, your cousin. He''s getting desperate trying to reassert control, now he''s endangering his own gang- I mean guild -trying to cause some chaos. I didn''t want to clean up the open ends for him."


    "What does that mean?"


    "Somewhere next week this guy is going to come back into town, talking about the thieves'' guild enterprise he almost closed down. Then Fyro''s friends will have to start asking questions how the hobo came to that information."


    "I understand." Harkness nodded. "You''re exposing his scheme to expose us."


    "But the thieves'' guild will have to kill the slayer to keep their secrets, right?" Ada insisted.


    "That''s likely." Scratch answered.


    "Okay." She was relieved.


    "And if the secret does leak out?" Harkness questioned.


    "If we''re put front street." Felix added.


    "The whole county will know about our bandit town."


    "That''s a risk we had to be willing to take if we don''t want to get bullied by the other Harkness anymore." Scratch answered. "And besides, we can''t hide forever, not with a territory as wide as ours."


    "Scratchy," Harkness kissed his forehead, "I trust that you know what you''re doing."


    "You''re a sweetheart." He responded. "When Fyro gets caught up in a scandal, we have to have allies at the ready to swoop in and take his power."


    "Do we have any."


    "I think I know a few..."


    <hr>


    Cursed Items


    Adventurers are able to practice their profession by appropiating equipment found in the wild, and they should not be discouraged from doing this.


    However, they should be aware of the possibility that sometimes equipment can be cursed.


    Witches will curse equipment so that it is useless to anybody who would steal it. But there are more insidious curses also. Dark sorcerers often leave cursed equipment in their dungeons that will harm whoever tries to use it, as a trap for intruders. Demons are known to take possession of a person through magic items too.


    Mages or anyone familiar with mana can attempt to sense mana consumption near an item that is suspected of being cursed. If there is any doubt whatsoever, one should feel free ask a pastor or clergyman. Followers of the goddess of light are eager to help fight possible curses.


    Most harmful effects in a cursed item are accompanied by a curse of binding. This is the curse that prevents the victim from taking off the item and escaping the curse. When one find themselves unable to take off equipment due to magic, even if the harmful effect isn''t immediately visible, one should seek out a church as soon as possible.

 Beneath the Stone

    "Hello! Any survivors?"


    The rubble from the rock slide had broken apart and crumbled during its fall and had been relatively easy to move out of the way with the sheer manpower they had.


    Once an opening had been made to connect the outside air to the stale atmosphere in the cave Scratch called out towards the goblins trapped inside.


    A fain whisper came from the other side.


    "Quiet, raise your damn voice for once in your life. I can''t hear you!"


    "Inside we''re fine!" The soft spoken goblin squeaked out as loud as he could. "But Hay-"


    "Under the rubble. We found him."


    Quiet fell silent.


    "You kids go hang out with the dogs, we''ll have this opened up in no time."


    -


    No time took a lot longer than expected.


    More rubble kept sliding down from the compromised cliff face as they tried digging under it.


    When eventually the place had been cleaned out it looked like a giant had taken a bite out of the mountain. The front of the foyer was gone and the room was exposed to the open air.


    Huckabee whistled. "That''s some damage." For once he had been spared the taxing physical work. For being abandoned with the cargo and reaching the village much later.


    Gildo was in the same boat, and he was likewise relaxed. "That guy sure knew when to strike. If we''d been here he wouldn''t have been able to get away with all this."


    "Managgia, he knew because he was informed," Aimone panted, "the leadership has stabbed us in the back." He fished a handkerchief to wipe the sweat off his brow.


    "No... that can''t be." Gildo stammered.


    "We haven''t exactly been playing good little subjects." Scratch was handing out cold drinks, water with tea leaves in them. He only carried two so after Huckabee and Gildo grabbed a mug Aimone fished behind the net. "People don''t hand out independence freely, you can expect a little push back."


    "You must be happy, goblin." Aimone spat. "Now that you''ve been given an excuse."


    "An excuse for what exactly, hotshot?" Scratch responded angrily.


    Aimone didn''t answer.


    "You know I just lost a son, yeah? That''s still fresh. I can''t be diplomatic with you right now, because right now I''m-" He stopped himself. "I''m just going to remove myself from you." And he walked away.


    "Great, Aimone. Very tactful." Gildo said to him.


    "What? It''s a goblin."


    "A goblin that lost his son." Huckabee responded. He and Gildo both took a judgmental sip from their drinks.


    "Managgia." Aimone slapped his forehead in frustration.


    <hr>


    The goblins were gradually leaking out of the village.


    The mess of the attack had been cleared up and they''d received a credible promise that they weren''t in any danger anymore. So the mothers said goodbye to their bandit friends and proceeded to herd the gaggles of energetic children back to their homes.


    The kids seemed to have made friends between tribes and were enthusiastically applying the concept of formal goodbyes again and again on each and every one, holding up the process tremendously.


    The main family retreated from the mixing around the gate and proceeded to mourn their fallen.


    "Lately we''ve been making small memorials for the dead." Scratch said softly, holding up a ribbon of cloth. "There''s a tree just outside the village where we tie lints to..."


    "I want him buried." Harkness said, not looking up from Angus'' body. She was kneeling over the hobgoblin''s body.


    "... Sure. We''ll bury him. Him and Hayato. It''s so the slimes don''t get at them, isn''t it?" He squeezed her shoulder and she nodded.


    "Will Angus... feel it? If the slimes..." Felix asked.


    "I''m afraid Angus doesn''t feel anything anymore, son."


    "Does Barbara know? About Hayato." Jasper questioned.


    "I think she does, she can be at the burial too."


    -


    Once again Harkness was able to strong arm Stanford into conducting a religious ritual.


    The children received a grave near the half-destroyed square in front of the opened up cave, away from the water tower. Their bodies had already been lowered in and the family stood around it, waiting for the healer to speak.


    "N-now I am not an official speaker for the dead..." He began anxiously, but gained more confidence as he spoke, "and we haven''t had much ritual for the past decade of banditry. I suppose that''s a privilege we left to citizens of the kingdom. Anyhow, I will not be calling upon Benesant by name today. Rather than pray for safe passage we can wish... wish for rest for these children. They may not have been loved by the gods, but they were loved, I can see that clearly. May their spirits be at peace... amen."


    The siblings and parents clapped and then began to fill the graves with dirt.


    Harkness went to thank Stanford afterwards, while Scratch took the time to talk business with Barbara.


    "Have you kept up with the gossip around town?" He asked while scratching at his parasite under the sleeve.


    "About what?" She was tired.


    "About your in-law setting this whole thing up."


    "Fyro Harkness? Fyro Harkness killed Hayato?" Her tiredness immediately melted away and gave way to anger as she raised her voice.


    He gestured at her to keep it down and not alarm the boys. "Indirectly. Yes. The good news is he''s overplayed his hand here and we can punish him for it, but we need allies on the inside."


    "Like who?"


    "Like a certain relative?"


    "Ohoho. Nonono." She laughed as a defense mechanism against the discomfort the idea made her feel. "No way, not Mabel, no."


    "Why not? You''re sisters, you speak the same language." He leaned closer to her. "This is the future I promised you, where you gain control over the smuggling ring."


    "But not with Mabel. I hate her as much as I hate him, she betrayed me."


    He stared at her blankly for a moment. "And I raped you. Barbara. Do you remember that? How I used you as an object to strengthen my tribe? I had them run a train-"


    "I remember." She cut him off perturbed. "But Mabel betrayed me. I can never trust her again."


    He laughed. "Oh, is that all? No that''s fine, don''t trust her. The best business relationships aren''t build on trust, but on mutual interest."


    "What does that mean? What are you planning?"


    "I''m gonna come back to you on this. Okay? Let''s comfort Hayato''s brothers. Before two months are over, I''ll give you what was promised."


    <hr>


    The next time Lacrima came to visit the steel forge the goblins had prepared for her arrival.


    The closest flat area next to the foamy rocks that led into the sea was decorated with pic-nic blankets and bowls of fire.


    As the owl soared through the underground cavern a tiny festival came into view, the main family sharing bread, freshly roasted meat and berry paste.


    When she landed Scratch and his children were there to welcome her.


    "My my, what a surprise." The witch proclaimed as she took human form inside her blanket.


    "Madam Lacrima, always a pleasure." Scratch bowed. Jasper, Ada and Felix mimicked it hastily without much enthusiasm. They had been taught manners but not developed much of passion for them.


    "Such politeness, are you the same Scratch from last time?" She chuckled.


    "There are surface dwellers with us today," he spoke quasi conspiratorial out of the side of his mouth, "so we''re keeping up appearances if that''s alright."


    "Ah, the Harkness girl is here?"


    "Lydia is tending to the roast, I''ll be asking you to join us in a moment. But first... Ada?"


    "Why me?" The hobgoblin girl complained.


    "Because you''re both women, it''s part of the social contract. Now don''t be rude to our guest."


    "What''s this about?" The witch asked suspiciously.


    "You always come here in big robes." Felix explained. "You left the last one on the ground."


    "Rather than build up a collection of the things we''ve engineered a bit of an amenity for you, Ada will show you the way." Scratch gestured back towards where the sea met the rocky stone.


    There stood a little tent. Not unlike what you would see on a beach. In it they had arranged a wardrobe of oversized men''s clothing.


    "Dad says this is your tent for when you''re visiting." Ada explained as they had entered. "So you don''t need those weird blankets."


    "How very considerate. I would do best to ship some dresses of my own however." Lacrima commented as she examined the rough-treaded bandit clothing.


    "Yeah, whatever." The girl looked away as the old woman began to change clothing.


    "In my younger, wilder days I would have no compunction appearing naked before my hosts." The witch mused as she got dressed. "I would shock and wow them when taking my human form. Alas, with the dues of time that sort of thing is less appreciated every year."


    "You need us to appreciate you?" Ada wondered.


    "Hhm? No, but it''s nice when you are, wouldn''t you agree?"


    "Hhm..."


    -


    After the old woman had picked out a serviceable pantsuit and a shawl for fashion reasons she led herself be escorted by the hobgoblin girl to the rest of the company.


    A pic-nic blanket was positioned on one of the higher grounds to overlook the forge in the distance. On the blanket stood a single squat wooden chair with cushions and to the side a campfire grilled a spit-roast of a cockatrice.


    Quiet and Second were there, as well as Fyro, Mac, George and Benjamin, and Haruto, some of Barbara''s earliest spawn.


    Harkness and Barbara were the adults expected to oversee the impromptu party, but they looked lost, it had been suddenly dropped on them. It was in the goblins'' nature to take things in stride, but the women were baffled by the sudden vacation atmosphere.


    "Ah, speak of the devil." Scratch suddenly appeared. "Thank you Ada. Felix and Jasper are... around." He gestured towards the other blankets around where different cliques of goblins clustered playing their own games. It was an invitation for her to go and play.


    "Will there be bird leftover when we come back."


    "We don''t feed you scraps, honey. There''ll be bird at the kids'' table." He reached up to pinch her cheek. Then he took the witch''s elbow from her.


    "You strike me as a discrete person." Scratch whispered to Lacrima as she once again adopted the posture of a frail old woman when approaching the gathering. "Can I ask you to be discrete with Lydia too?"


    "Oh dearie, auntie Lacrima has kept more secrets than you can count." The woman croaked.


    "Good. Because I don''t think she''s ready for all this dungeon business."


    Lacrima looked at him with a puzzled expression but didn''t have time to inquire further as they had reached and been noticed by the party.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    "Our guest of honor has arrived." Scratch announced as he helped her sit down in the comfortable chair.


    "Ma''am." The women nodded their heads respectfully towards their elder. Harkness gestured behind her. "As you can see, the forge..."


    "Let''s not talk business right away," Scratch interrupted, "let the woman rest after coming all this way."


    "But-"


    "We have an entire meal to get through. There''s no hurry at all."


    "Very well then," Lacrima answered decisively, "it''s been a while since I''ve been a guest of honor."


    -


    The roast was served as slices and bones, with canned vegetables and crackers as sides.


    With the refugees leaving so soon they had decided to use the emergency rations to cook a feast with instead.


    The guest of honor was less impressed. She had the ability to eat meat every day, with bread from a real baker and fresh vegetables. What was a feast to these outcasts looked rather inferior to her.


    The others were seated on the ground before her, trying to look dignified with a plate of food in their hands.


    "So, I hear you run the orphanage." Scratch decided to make small talk. "A charity?"


    Lacrima put her food aside, she wasn''t interested in it. "Yes, my children. I was never able to have little ones of my own. So I decided to take care of the lost ones of Eston."


    "That''s sweet." Harkness commented. "What are their names?"


    "That- Well there are a lot of them. And anyway, it''s my apprentice that handles them most of the day." Curiously she brushed off the topic and brought up another. "Speaking off Eston and its charities, see here what I got form the church''s pastor." She held up another item that she had clutched in her owl form. A small red chain.


    Harkness received it. "The healer''s pendant?"


    "Apparently my gift to you had been cursed and ended up on an adventurer."


    "How rude of me to regift gifts." Scratch smiled.


    "Ruder than you think." Lacrima sniffed. "Do you know what a curse is?"


    "Not quite dark magic?" He glanced at Harkness.


    "Curses cast by monsters might as well be dark magic." Lacrima spoke sternly. "For how they seem to adventurers. But do you know what they are?"


    "Lady. I don''t even know what magic is." Scratch responded in slight exasperation. "It''s all mumbo jumbo to me."


    "Well then listen here," she looked at multiple people to address them as a group, "a normal spell is cast and done with. You arrange for the mana to escape, and while it does it causes an effect. That part you know."


    A few of the goblins shrugged at each other and continued stuffing their mouths.


    "But a curse is not a spell. It is an entity by itself. The curse clings to an object or person and continues to cast a single effect, like a spell maintained by a concentrated caster."


    "If that''s how it works, where does it get the mana?" Barbara asked, extending the lecture further.


    Lacrima looked at her properly for the first time, there was a hint of recognition, but she dismissed it. The two where from different, mutually distrustful, branches of the guild. "That''s a fine question dearie. A curse doesn''t use mana. It doesn''t store magic but directs it immediately, like the stony gaze of a cockatrice." She held up the bird leg. "That''s why outside of dungeons, their effects can not be very strong."


    "Since in dungeons the flow of magic is stronger." Barbara stated her thoughts out loud. "That makes sense..."


    "Yes... so, where was I?" The witch pondered. "Oh yes. I don''t know which one of you cursed that expensive necklace I gave, but the curse had to be manually removed by the pastor. The useless remains of the curse still cling to it, making it ugly and inelegant."


    "I don''t see anything." Harkness commented, inspecting the red chain.


    "Hhmpf, well for a witch, who can observe magic, it''s been defaced."


    "And what about the man you took it from. The slayer?" Harkness wanted to know. "Is he...?"


    "So you knew then." Lacrima narrowed her eyes. "How he knew too much."


    "N-no. He ki-"


    "Definitely." Scratch said with his mouth full. "A persistent character, I tried to warn you of him before."


    "It''s Fyro!" Barbara blurted out. "Fyro told him about everything and send him to us."


    The witch raised an eyebrow. "Is that true?"


    "Did you ever trust the man?" Scratch said calmly, while staring at Barbara to keep herself to the background.


    "Even I have a hard time believing that he would sabotage his own fortress."


    "Don''t believe it." Scratch spoke over whatever Barbara was about to say. "But do you really think the fortress was his idea? The man has no use for well fed smugglers, what he wants is scared campers that he can control."


    "What you''re implying..." the witch began carefully, "is that Fyro Harkness deliberately leaked the secrets of the thieves'' guild, potentially exposing all of us to the eyes of the nobility."


    "Not so much implying as outright stating." Scratch responded smugly. "But you don''t need to believe it. Yet. Just tell me what would happen if it''s true."


    "If it''s true..." The witch contemplated. "We cannot convict a member of the leadership of betrayal just like that. There would need to be a meeting, a unanimous vote. Even then, his own following could rise up against us."


    "Are they that loyal?"


    "They are his own followers, they''d rely on his version of events, wouldn''t they? They''d be paranoid of another branch trying to attack theirs."


    "A man on the inside." Scratch snapped his fingers. "Done. What else?"


    Lacrima looked befuddled, she looked around whether he had done something. "What?"


    "On the risk of his followers rebelling," Scratch explained, "we have someone on the inside for that."


    "What Scratch means," Harkness continued, "is that we can get support from someone they trust."


    "Even if that is true," Lacrima continued unsure, "there''s still the liege."


    "Liege?" Harkness asked. "The fourth leader?"


    "I don''t know where you learn these things dearie, but yes, our fourth member. Mac would vote with me most likely, but Fyro has the liege''s support."


    "Why? Are they friends?" Scratch wanted to know.


    She shook her head. "He just favors stability. The liege is not a local boss. He has power in cities all over the region. He likes to keep the status quo."


    "But Fyro is not really a font of stability, is he?"


    "Those are your words. How would you convince the liege, who relies only on the whispers of his followers to inform him?"


    "Bullshit. You''re telling me that son of a bitch is untouchable?" Barbara clenched her fists.


    "I do know you..." Lacrima suddenly said, "aren''t you-?"


    "So all we need is something undeniable. A smoking gun. A witness testimony. And we''ll have the liege guy and his whisperers on our side?" Scratch clasped his hands.


    "Of course. What else would you expect?"


    "Nono, this is excellent. Sometimes loyalty or incentives can pull people either way, but in this case it''s just a matter of proof. That''s good." He raised up a glass. "Come guys, show her the steel, it''s time to talk business."


    "Why do I feel we''ve been talking business all this time?" The witch mumbled under her breath.


    -


    From the initial runs of the steel mill came the product samples.


    They were rectangular strips of shiny metal that could be easily stacked on top of each other and lifted by goblin hands.


    "Produced according to specifications." Scratch announced proudly, "I''ll let the expert do the talking."


    "Yeah... so... right." George stammered from behind the sheet. "We read the instructions very carefully, but we had to try a few times to get it right."


    "Talk about the good parts George," Scratch spurred, "try upselling the product."


    "Uhh... uh." The boy got nervous having to present with no preparation. "Steel is strong but flexible. It can be used for many purposes."


    "She knows all that."


    "Yes. But. We made these strips. These strips can be used for any purpose, it''s enough to make a sword and they can be combined for armor, or attached to a shield... And! And it''s easy to transport because you can stack them into cubes... so..."


    Lacrima touched one of the samples. "Very good. I want six dozen sets of full armor before winter."


    "A dozen a month?!" Harkness gasped.


    Scratch gave a nervous laugh. "I know you''re happy with the free labour, but transport and reselling would actually be easier in the generic shape. Not to mention the expertise-"


    "Watch yourself boy." The witch scoffed. "I am no smuggler, this isn''t for reselling, the arms are for my own use."


    Harkness spoke up to protest. "You can''t expect them to complete such an order in-"


    But Lacrima held her hand up, surging threateningly with magical energy.


    "We don''t have that much iron." George stated seriously.


    "The recipe you gave use uses only the raw iron at the core of the vein." Scratch continued. "If there was a way to get pig-iron from the surrounding magnetite. I mean, that''s how you''re supposed to do it, right? The iron within the rock..."


    "You''ve dug into the underground cavern system." Lacrima stated. "Many iron pockets should be opened up to you. I will grant you the magic to detect them, dearie. That''s the trade."


    "Ma''am, this is a not a fair trade." Harkness continued to complain, more demure and polite this time. "You''re putting us to work. It''s-"


    Scratch tugged on her sleeve and hissed at her. "You''re used to this. Don''t piss off that lady with the superpowers."


    "Don''t be mistaken, bandit." Lacrima said smugly. "I may act friendly, but I am forcing you. That is the privilege the strong have over the weak."


    "Listen," Scratch put on a friendly tone to calm the situation, "I''m an accountant. When an account pays for more than the book value of an asset he notes it down as spend on Good Will. I''d like to believe we''ve earned some good will with you, haven''t we Lacri''?"


    "Not yet..." The with was less than charmed by the nickname.


    "But now you''ve sunk resources into this village." He tapped the side of his nose. "Negotiated with the pastor, created magic items, shared the recipe for steel. After all that, you wouldn''t let us be destroyed, would you?"


    "I suppose not..."


    "You would want to protect this place. Against ambitious smuggler lords that would rather see us disbanded. If only just to receive your steel."


    Lacrima looked between him and the bandit leader. "Be careful dearie, this one''s a schemer." Then she turned around and left.


    "That could have gone better." Barbara sighed.


    "Nah." Scratch responded. "She''s an ally."


    <hr>


    Not too long after the pic-nic thoughts returned to rebuilding.


    "We better stop building the chimney then." Second remarked as he and Scratch looked at the hole in the cave from a distance. "So we can all work on the repairs."


    "Yeah..." Scratch was chewing on nothing in particular. "You know what? It''s an opportunity."


    "For what?"


    "For renovation. It was getting crammed anyway. How about instead of putting in a new wall we extend the home outward."


    "You mean... build another warehouse against the cliff?" Second raised his eyebrow.


    "Sure. Or... it wouldn''t be a warehouse but just a house. We have gathered expertise on walls and roofs, right?"


    "Yeah, but you send all of them out to build those houses in the colonies."


    "The goblins, yes. But the bandits that taught them are still here, the men at least."


    Second looked around him. "You want the humans to build our home for us? How?"


    "What do you mean, ''how''?"


    "How can you get them to do that?"


    "Second." He patted him on the shoulder. "Once you''ve convinced them to spawn your children, the rest is child''s play." He gestured with his head have him follow. "Come."


    Second stiffened. "Are you going to Lydia?"


    "Yes."


    He didn''t show any intention of following.


    "Are you still hung up about all that?"


    "So what if I am? Will you kill me too?"


    Scratch rolled his eyes and shrugged. "You need to find your peace, brother." Then he left.


    -


    Harkness was teaching her remaining children how to read when Scratch entered the tent.


    They were sitting in a circle on the floor, with a book in their midst.


    "Ho-hon-our." Jasper stammered.


    "It''s actually honour." She corrected. "It''s spelled with a ''U''."


    Ada laughed at his mistake.


    Felix wasn''t paying attention at all. He was leaning his head in his hands and straightened up when his father entered.


    "Hi there." Scratch nonchalantly sauntered between them and kissed Harkness on her cheek. "Is the lesson going well?"


    "They''re fast learners." She responded.


    "We''re reading about knights." Ada proclaimed.


    "Knights, oh my. Did you learn about their weaknesses and vulnerabilities?"


    "Uh. No."


    He sat down on the ground besides them. "What I want is a living room."


    The bandit leader was a bit surprised. "A living room?"


    "What''s a living room?" The kids wanted to know.


    "A living room is like what we had in the foyer, but proper. In a real house with real windows. That''s the kinda place where you teach your children how to read."


    Harkness lifted him up and put him in her lap.


    "H-hey. Don''t do that."


    Ada gave a mocking laugh as the mother began to play with his hands. "You want us to have a house of our own?"


    "Yes. And why not? A big mansion, connected directly to the cave entrance. Just for us."


    "Just for us? And what about the other goblins in the village? And the humans?"


    "You''re from a knight''s family, right? Don''t they usually live in bigger houses than the peasants?"


    "Sometimes. But they pay for those."


    He looked around at the kids to gain their support. "Then we''ll pay. Right?"


    "Yes! Oh, can we? Can we live in a real house?" Ada gasped.


    "A mansion like in the books?" Felix proposed.


    The mother sighed. "Now you know that wouldn''t be fair to Huckabee and the others."


    "Then they can just come and live with us!" Felix enthusiastically stated. "We''ll build a great big castle for everybody!"


    "Come on Lydia." Scratch tutted. "Don''t you get tired of being fair all the time?"


    "Bad." Harkness gave him a light slap on the side of his head. "You should behave."


    "Kids." Scratch stated. "It''s getting late. Why don''t you see if you can help Quiet make dinner?"


    "But it''s-"


    "Go see."


    When they had left the bandit leader was about to put the goblin father aside to focus on her work.


    "Lydia." He said in a serious tone. "You realize you can''t groom me, right?"


    "I-?"


    "I know how it works, and I don''t judge you for it. That''s how people like you do things, you try to be a parent and a lover at the same time. That way you can control how they think."


    "Scratchie, I don''t..."


    "As I said. I don''t judge. For heaven''s sake you better believe that I''ve done a lot worse, or let a lot worse happen rather. I''m just saying that it won''t work on me. I''m stuck, I''m set, my personality has crystallized."


    She stared at him, then tears formed in her eyes.


    "It''s not... That''s not who I want to be."


    "Oh no. Did I make you cry?" He hugged her head and tried to comfort her. "Shh. Shh. It''s fine, it''s fine."


    "That''s not- *hic* -how I want to think I am." She cried into his tunic.


    "Oh boy. Sure let it out. You don''t need to be strong in front of me." He comforted her, she gripped him tighter.


    "I''m a horrible person. Aren''t I?"


    "No. There''s no such thing."


    "I''m not a leader. I''m not a- a-" She cried again.


    "You''re you. And the first step is learning that that''s good enough." He offered.


    Regardless, they remained motionless for some time while she vented. After that she had apologize again for having emotions.


    <hr>


    mines


    All throughout the world metals and minerals occur in the ground in the form of small pockets.


    Often humans or dwarves will dig out these materials in order to create tools or weapons. The open space created due to this excavation is called a ''mine''.


    The resources in a mine are quickly depleted, as single pockets rarely contain enough material to keep dedicated miners busy for more than a month. Afterwards, the mine is abandoned and usually becomes a home to monsters.


    Since mineshafts tend to be narrower than natural caves they do not develop an identical ecosystem to the caverns of the underworld. The monsters within tend to be smaller. Giant spiders, goblins, and slimes are known to make their homes in mines.


    Mines created by dwarfs are usually deeper and more expansive than those of humans. They connect multiple pockets and lead all the way into the underworld. These mineshafts are also narrower and difficult for a human to travel through.

 Building Up

    The outsider goblins had left a mess.


    They were obedient to the mothers the main family had assigned, but they were hardly civilized. They had no compunction defecating and leaving food remains on the ground if it was a little out of the way of their own living space.


    Now that they were gone the whole area between the platform and the gate was littered with filth and a notable smell.


    It had been decided at some point by someone that the person most suited for getting all this filth into the sewer would be the minister of waterworks. So Aimone had to spend a day with a broom raking up goblin shit.


    He was still grumbling profanities when pushing a heap of filth that had gotten quite large to the outhouse. "Mannagia.


    Put to work like a..." He couldn''t finish his thought, he didn''t have the vocabulary to express the image of a working class day laborer he had in his mind.


    "It''s not so bad, comrade." Gildo laughed. He had two long leather gloves like those of a falconer to handle the refuse with. He was the one shoveling it into the hole itself. A stink had settled into the leather, making the gloves unusable for any other purpose. "We''re putting in that little extra effort to ready this place for tomorrow''s event."


    Aimone exhaled sharply through his nose. "Not so bad? Stupido! This is not the life we were promised! Do you not remember the sacrifices we had to make? All that to mop up goblin shit, pah!" He spat on the ground.


    Gildo sighed and looked him in the eyes. "It is not bad. We are alive, the liege has- thieves'' guild has given us that. A place to live in, so we don''t have to wander the forest like animals..."


    "It''s for the liege in the first place that we risked our lives, that we lost our citizenship in Grienice." Aimone insisted glumly.


    But Gildo shook his head. "Maybe Audace. But we two were sloppy criminals since the start, and don''t deny it. With or without him we''d be caught eventually."


    "Maybe. But we don''t deserve being pushed around by Fyro''s haughty cousin, or her creepy pet."


    Gildo started to laugh! "Yes! What a couple! I swear she''s more his pet than he hers."


    He was about to pat his friend on the back, but he shied away from his filthy glove. "Don''t touch me."


    "Even if we end up doing their chores for them, at least we can talk freely about the thieves without all the goblins here, ey?" Gildo sighed. "Can mention the liege without any ears being pricked up?"


    "Yeah... why is it so quiet around here?" Aimone suddenly wondered.


    "The summer is coming back." Gildo knew to say. "The forest goblins didn''t have anywhere to go but the main family has been hiding inside when the sun is this high for days. It''s too warm for them."


    "Too warm?" Aimone frowned. "It''s a temperate zone."


    "Even a temperate zone is too hot for a goblin during the summer."


    "I need to remember that."


    -


    Sure enough, when the sun came down and twilight set in the goblins came out of hiding, carrying pelts and blankets to spread out over the newly cleaned area.


    "Thank you for cleaning the grass." Harkness came to thank the two.


    She and the other guards had been out beyond the territory of the perimeter to scout for possible enemies. Now that they were so consolidated, they had more organized sieges to fear.


    "Hmm." Aimone just grunted, her politeness messed with his ability to feel bitter about it and it annoyed him even more.


    "We''ll be having tidier guests around soon." She continued. "To discuss reintegration."


    "Are we high on the list?" Gildo asked with a painful expression, being the newest members of the troupe.


    "I wouldn''t know. Are you?"


    Their conversation petered out and she was about to leave. But then Aimone cleared his throat. "Ahem. How long have you had to... wait?"


    She put her hands on her hips and thought for a moment. "It''s been nearly a decade for me. But I''m not the eldest member here. Huckabee has been a bandit since he was a teenager." She spotted the man loitering not too far away and called out to him. "Huckabee! How long since your sentence?"


    "Thirteen!" He shouted back. "Thirteen years. Been in Eston woods all that time."


    "Well..." She told the Grienicians. "It''s not quite a first-come-first-serve service either. If the guild thinks of you as useful, I have no doubt they''d move you up in the list."


    "Not today." Gildo told Aimone. "If we are saved the first just after joining, the crowds would riot."


    "And me along with them." Harkness stated sternly.


    <hr>


    Second and Yuki were among the few goblins not involved with furnishing the grassland.


    From deep within the bowels of the dungeon they had retrieved a series of thin metal beams.


    "Will the witch approve of you using the steel for that?" Huckabee wanted to know.


    "If anyone asks, it''s an honest mistake." Yuki echoed Scratch''s words and gestures while tapping his nose.


    Second just grunted.


    They were drilling rows of holes above and below the opened up cave.


    Before every alteration to the rock surface they measured it precisely with cut reeds.


    "And it''s for a wall?" Huckabee asked sheepishly, making conversation and distracting the workers.


    "Door." Second answered curtly.


    "We''re making a double-sided door." Yuki explained. "It has to fit perfectly ''cause they can''t get in each other''s way and there can''t be a hole between them."


    "I see. ''Cause you have doors inside, right? But they''re... they''re inside doors I guess."


    "Ahem." Second dropped his tools and turned around. "Do you need to be somewhere?"


    "Uh, no. I was just... you know, making conversation."


    "We don''t like you." Second stated angrily.


    "Secooond~" Yuki protested.


    "We''re not your friends. Huckabee. We don''t want to talk to you we-"


    Yuki tugged on his arm. "Scratch said-"


    "-Scratch isn''t here."


    "Aren''t I?" Just as he had said that the goblin patriarch came up into the foyer through the hatch.


    Second turned away from the group and crossed his arms.


    "Don''t mind Second." Scratch laughed it off. "He''s having trouble growing up and letting go of grudges."


    Huckabee looked a bit sheepish.


    "The murders?" Scratch tried, thinking that perhaps he''d forgotten.


    "Yes. No I knew why, and I understand, I just-" But Second refused to turn around and take part in the conversation.


    "Forget about that. It''s up to nobody but himself." Scratch stated. "Rather, come help me with this door."


    From beneath the stairs came the strained grunting of Jasper, who was trying to push a wooden fixture through the narrow hatch.


    "Son. Stop it." Scratch ordered. "I told you it''s scraping, you''ll break it."


    "It''s getting heavy!" The boy whined. "I want to get it through before I drop it."


    "I didn''t ask for an excuse." His father answered.


    Huckabee quickly came to their aid by removing the lid from the opening and twisting the wooden panel until it fit through.


    "Ah look who has spatial insight." Scratch cheered. "Round of applause everyone."


    "Do we get applause?" Ada demanded when she and Felix lifted theirs through the opening in one go.


    "Sure, well done. Let''s get these things installed."


    -


    Before the rest of the wall was put in place the doorpost was finalized within the steel framework, making it seemingly float in the air.


    The door panels were thick wooden slaps, square at the bottom but arching at the top. On both sides the goblins had carved images, halfway geometric and halfway depictions. They were supposed to be goblins in profile, facing outward from the central doorknobs and wielding spears.


    "Did you carry all this through the rope platform?" Huckabee stroked the engraving with his hand.


    "Hell no. We made it in the tunnels right here." Scratch responded. "We just crammed all our workshops in the mined out holes since that''s where we''re stuck anyway."


    "I made the design!" Ada boasted. "Do you like it?"


    "You just started on it and then that''s what we had to go with." Felix complained.


    "Enough admiring it." Their father decided. "Let''s see what it looks like in place."


    The hobgoblins had considerable strength, but even with three of them it was hard holding up the carving into the steel lattice.


    The hinges were less shiny and smooth than the beams, but they were steel. Each had two halves, one attached to the panel and one to the doorpost, allowing them to attach the door by sliding the hinges into place.


    "Aaaand... let go."


    The door panel stayed into place. There was no loud creaking or bending of the materials.


    "Success...?"


    "With hinges like these," Harkness had suddenly appeared beside them, "any intruder can lift the door of its supports."


    "Oh! Hi." Scratch responded in surprise at her suddenness.


    "Hi." She said sweetly.


    "It''s not a locked castle gate." He continued. "If there''s intruders here it''s already too late."


    "Hhm." She didn''t sound convinced.


    "''Sides," Jasper stated, "these doors are heavy."


    "Huckabee and me can help you lift the next one into place." Harkness suggested. "As a favor."


    -


    When they were done the heavy wooden fixture within the metal framework had a precarious aura.


    "Are you sure it''s alright like this?" Harkness asked.


    "Once the plaster is in place it''ll have more support." Scratch answered.


    "We''re not doing bricks this time." Yuki explained to the humans. We''re going to fill up the mold with cement-clay and make a solid stone wall. We are going to make a ''flap'' for the dogs first, though."


    "We might still stud it with some bricks." Scratch corrected him. "Or planks, or tiles. Whatever would fit in with the house."


    "The house?" Huckabee asked.


    "Yes, I have it all planned out." The goblin bounced outward onto the half-ruined square. "We''ll go for a roman-style courtyard, this can be the atrium.Once you come inside you can go straight ahead for the underground or enter the home proper on the sides. With a second story that overhangs the square we can have twelve- sixteen rooms! More than enough for us two," he looked at the bandit leader, "the kids and their uncles."


    "We talked about this." She spoke softly but with a strict tone.


    He dropped into a sitting position and leaned his chin on his fist. "Yes, and I''ve been thinking about what you said. We started this town because we wanted lives of our own, right? A home for ourselves that isn''t just a waiting camp for something better."


    "Yes. But we can''t make the others-"


    "Wait. Let me finish. For us it''s an upgrade, but for you it''s just another bandit camp with a wall, right?"


    She looked at him without answering. The bandits had benefited from the safety of the location, but their lives hadn''t fundamentally changed.


    "As long as our town is still a group project, it isn''t a town." He said, unfurling his hand to tap the side of his nose. "It''s a town when it''s a home to pursue your own life, your own interests."


    "So you don''t expect Huckabee and the others to build our home for us." She asked.


    "What? Me?" Huckabee was surprised, he hadn''t quite followed the meaning of the conversation.


    "I do actually. But not as a favor. It can be a job. There''s always goods coming in and out, right? And everybody is doing jobs and making things. How about everybody earns their own money and they can order their own goods from the caravan, to have just for themselves."


    She smiled "It sounds like you want a sovereign nation of your own."


    He threw up his hands. "I prefer to think of it as an independent syndicate. Isn''t that what you want as well? To live for your own sake again? To have your own home."


    Her face grew more serious. "You don''t think that I''d let you exploit these people, do you? If they need to work for their living, it won''t be more work for less living."


    "I wouldn''t dream of it." He stood up and continued to look around at his imaginary house. "We''ll dip into the gold supply."


    "H-hey now." Huckabee protested. "Who will pay me for guarding them?"


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "There still are public jobs I suppose." Scratch pondered. "Ministers, security..." Then he dramatically turned around.


    "A protection fee, or rent for housing. Equal for everyone."


    Harkness started laughing. "You''re describing a tax levy!"


    "What is a tax levy?" Jasper asked.


    "Okay." Scratch took on a stubborn pose. "Why not then? Why shouldn''t we be a nation? A city-state. We''ve got imports and exports. We''ve got civilians. We even have our own national product; steel. The only thing we''re missing is a name." He turned to the kids. "What do you think the name of our country should be?"


    "What is a tax levy?" Jasper repeated.


    <hr>


    Kathia didn''t have a storefront. Any legitimate weapon shop had to operate by the rules of the adventurer''s guild, which meant selling only to adventurers and buying only from licensed suppliers.


    Those rules were too restrictive for her. She resold found or stolen equipment from her home in Eston, at a much lower price. Her clients were adventurers with a connection to the thieves'' guild as well as thugs and loan sharks that made it their business intimidating and attacking others with weapons.


    All they had to do was knock on the green door at the end of the street.


    *knock* *knock*


    At the door were two tall characters. A man and a woman, they naturally had a similar appearance and were likely related, but they emphasized their similarity by wearing matching clothing. Bespoke form-fitting clothing, expensive but not presuming a status above peasantry. Black shoes, polished to a shine. Even the earrings in their left ears were the same.


    "Can I help you?" The servant woman asked politely.


    "Hiiii~" The female twin flashed a big white smile. "We''re taking back the amulet, if you don''t mind."


    "Uhm... it is still quite early, Kathia is not yet ready to conduct business. If you''d-"


    The man rudely shoved her aside and the two entered the home.


    "H-hey stop!"


    The shop''s stock wasn''t hidden very deeply. They busted open one locked door in the hallway to find the vault.


    There were two wall-mounted displays and a glass casing, but most of the wares were strewn together in boxes.


    The intruders ignored the valuable display items and began overturning the boxes, seemingly looking for a specific item.


    The house was filled with loud clattering and clashing metal. Waking up the lady of the house.


    "What''s all this?!" Kathia came storming out of her bedroom, furiously adjusting her bathrobe. "Berta, who didya let in the house!?"


    "I-I didn''t." The servant stammered. "This lady and gentleman forced-"


    "Can''t you do anyfin'' proper? You right tart!" The fence cussed at the help, who cringed at her words.


    "Go get the guards, no, not the guards... go to the horse stables and tell the caretaker. Not a word to the guards."


    The woman hesitated.


    "Hurry then! After I let you and your disgusting kid live in my house. Benesant would curse me for me generosity."


    "Y-yes ma''am." Before she flew out of the house she ducked into the room she shared with her daughter to whisk the young girl away from the rambunctious people.


    Kathia had often threatened to throw her out and complained about housing offspring off the staff, but she more than got her value back with how she put the two to work.


    It occurred to the young mother not to follow orders and to let her employer and landlady get herself killed confronting the two alone. But she found herself dragging the kid along to the stable anyway.


    -


    Like most cities, the layout of Eston was designed to accommodate adventurers. The western gate, shopping district and guild were all in close vicinity to each other.


    It didn''t take much time for the house servant to pass the gate and find the horse stables, where the mounts of visitors were being looked after.


    "Uhm. Ah! Uhm." She stammered, standing on the edge of the property and seeing the stable boy pitch hay.


    She and her daughter made an odd spectacle, dressed in inside clothing with no coats or hats, they looked like they''d escaped a house fire. The little girl in particular was wearing no shoes.


    Eventually the young man saw them, layed down his pitchfork and approached. "Hi there. Can I help Y''all?"


    "It''s... madam Kathia. There''s these ruffians..." She trailed off.


    "Hey, I know you. You''re Boris'' sister, right? Uh, condolences." He blabbered.


    The servant looked distraught, confronted by her own lack of presence and ability to convey urgency.


    "Bad guys broke in the secret room!" The daughter yelled out.


    "Are the guards-" The stable boy stopped himself. "No not the guards. I should go get... the boss. I think."


    -


    In a hurry the three rushed to a new location. A tall but narrow riverside manor in the richer part of town.


    "George." The woman that answered the door stated expectingly.


    "Mabel," he gasped from running, "is Fyro in? There are angry customers going ballistic at Kathia''s."


    "Fyro is out. Can''t the- No. Not the guards. You go get Zell, we''ll cool them off. Make sure it doesn''t turn into a riot."


    "Yes ma''am."


    "Who''s this?"


    "This is, uh, Kathia''s... friend?"


    "I''m..." The woman didn''t dare speak.


    "We clean the house!" the daughter said.


    "Well whatever. You stay here and watch my boys then. I''m warning you, they''re little monsters.


    -


    And so, after almost half an hour of running back and forth help came for the fence being trashed by thugs.


    After all this time they still hadn''t found what they were looking for, and had moved on from trashing the house to assaulting the owner.


    "Give it up hag." The man said, holding his victim in the air by her throat. "We know it''s in here somewhere."


    Kathia had both hands on his wrist, holding herself up to keep her neck from breaking under her own weight. "I haven''t... the slightest clue... what you''re-"


    The female thug sighed. "The spring amulet was supposed to be rewarded to our selected winner. Suddenly, a goblin slayer with an even less credible amount of trophies appears and snatches it away, then that you lot up and assassinate him. What do you take us for? Tell us where the amulet is."


    "Eat dirt." Kathia spat.


    "I think it''s time to try your new experiment." The man grinned.


    "Brother, you''re so cruel." The woman commented. "I love it."


    A clammy cold sensation began to spread out of the man''s hand and over Kathia''s throat.


    For a moment she felt a deathly fear, but the sensation suddenly stopped when an aggressive voice called them out.


    "Steady on Guvnor." A broad man holding a spiked club grunted from the opposite end of the lane. Next to him where the much skinnier George and authority figure Mabel. "Let go of the lass, will ya?"


    "None of us want to make a ruckus." George added. "So let''s all calm down."


    "You lot must''ve not realized who''s turf you walked in on." Mabel fumed. "Eston''s thieves'' guild can bite back."


    The male twin let go of the fence, she fell painfully to the ground. "I should hope so." He scoffed.


    "Eston''s thieves'' guild can bite a lot harder than you three." The female twin laughed.


    "Ugh. What do I even pay protection money for?" Kathia rubbed her throat in misery.


    "Not to disobey the liege." The man scolded her and kicked at her while she was down.


    "You two with the liege then?" George asked unsurely.


    "''Ow would we know if they''re even telling tha truff." Zell swung his club.


    "Maybe because we''re not dead yet." The woman laughed with a sassy gesture. Then she pointed up, a number of shadows dashed overhead, evading a proper examination, but clearly there. "Did you think keeping the peace was up to you lot? Doesn''t your husband tell you anything? The liege''s shadows are everywhere."


    "I know a guy that works for the liege..." George began. "He says he only does the talking bit, and that he never met the smashers."


    "Well we''re talkers and smashers." The twins walked up to the trio and began to circle around them, examining them from head to toe. "Let''s talk."


    "I''m ready to do sum smashing at any time." Zell''s grip around his club grew tighter.


    "Who are you, and why are you here?" Mabel asked. Contrary to the thugs she''d brought, who kept their footing in case a fight broke out, she spun around to keep the two in her sight.


    "My name is Mitt and this is my sister Trish." The man said smugly.


    "We go where we''re needed to represent our master''s interest." His sister finished.


    The duo were still circling the others.


    "You have no right to cause chaos here." Mabel''s voice cracked in her attempt to sound authoritative. "My husband owns this person, the liege will have to cont-"


    "Who is causing chaos?" Mitt stepped into their personal space threateningly only to resume his orbit, like a sheepdog scaring cattle.


    "So many loose ends. So many sloppy disappearances." Trish spat. "Who in Eston doesn''t know about the bandit village by now?"


    "That doesn''t give you the right-"


    "We have every right." Trish spat again.


    "By tonight there will be people held responsible." Mitt continued. "No matter who they belong to. Leadership or not."


    "We''ll pull out the branch by the root if we have to." His sister added.


    "You and what army?" George challenged them nervously.


    "All of it, horse boy. All the people doing all the smashing bits in the whole city."


    George audibly gulped.


    "And we want that amulet." Mitt began.


    "Make sure it turns up." Trish said. "Or, you know, else."


    The two walked away.


    "We could have taken them." Zell grunted. "It''s three on two."


    "No." George was looking up. "They were with a lot more."


    "It''s a good thing I didn''t let them get their hands on it." Kathia boasted, as she pulled the spring amulet from under her bathrobe.


    Mabel frowned. "Were you keeping it there the whole time?"


    "I snuck it in while they were trashing my shop. Now that I know it''s valuable I think I can sell it to Mac''s casino."


    "Really, Kathia," Mabel groaned, "you are incorrigible."


    Zell laughed heartily.


    <hr>


    After their confrontation wit the liege''s spokespeople the smugglers returned to their business.


    Once Mabel arrived at her riverside manor a carriage was parked in front of it.


    She had no scheduled appointments, and her husband was supposed to be out, in a secret meeting with the leadership.


    She began to worry for the safety of her family as she unlocked the door.


    Inside her boys were ganging up on the servant girl that had fled from Kathia''s. She was down on the ground and they were kicking her.


    She sighed in relief. Nothing out of the ordinary.


    Then she picked up an umbrella from the stand and whacked her eldest on the back of the head, so hard that he fell to the ground and started crying.


    "Who''s cart is that outside? Did you let them in? Tell me now." She demanded.


    "Wuh-Witch."


    "Witch? What witch?" She left them alone to find the living room, where Lacrima, one of the thieves'' guilds leaders, was being served tea by Kathia''s lackey.


    The witch took a long slow sip of the drink before speaking. "Good to see you dearie, we were starting to worry."


    "Out." Mabel fumed. "Both of you. Out of my house."


    The servant looked at Lacrima to be given permission, when she nodded the woman rushed out of the room to take her daughter home.


    The witch herself, however, stayed perfectly still and continued to enjoy her cup of tea.


    Mabel narrowed her eyes at the brazenness. It seemed to her that a guild leader would not treat a member of another branch this way if she still feared that branch''s power. "Were is my husband if not at the summit with you?"


    "He is, dear. It is me that is terribly late. For all the time I had to wait for you."


    "Well, I can do nothing for you. Have a nice trip." She gestured at the room''s exit.


    Lacrima put her cup down with a soft but deliberately abrupt cling. "It''d be a shame if that were true. Perhaps one of your sons will survive to be taken in by my orphanage."


    "How there you threaten me? In my own house! This is the second time today. Now I only need a gambler to show up and I''ve got all three-"


    "I''m not threatening you, I''m helping you you streetborn slime." The witch dropped her veneer of friendliness towards the thief, stunning her into silence. "I''m helping you. Do you realize how much trouble your family is in?"


    "...What trouble?"


    "You and I are going to take a short ride in my carriage. Along the way I will make you an offer you can''t refuse. How does that sound?"


    The woman audibly gulped. "And the boys?"


    Lacrima finished her tea. "I will make sure they look after themselves while we''re gone."


    When they left for the door Lacrima made sure to turn to Mabel''s sons and wave her hand in front of their faces.


    "Be good boys for your parents, ey? Or they might not return."


    The boys straightened their backs and began to stare off into the middle distance.


    "W-what did you do?" But the mother didn''t get an answer as she was ushered into the vehicle.


    <hr>


    Their was no driver on the witch''s vehicle. The horses seemingly knew where to go themselves.


    Inside were three people. Lacrima herself, the witch and thieves'' guild higher-up, Arnold, master of the adventurers'' guild and her personal bodyguard, and Mabel, for now not much more than a prisoner.


    They quickly left the city gates and prattled over cobblestone paths next to the crop fields. The grain wasn''t ready for harvest but it was tall and spread out to all sides like an amber sea.


    "Where are we going?" Mabel asked.


    "The summit. If we aren''t too late."


    "But where?"


    "Such questions. Don''t you think she asks too much questions, Arnie?"


    The man nodded. He didn''t seem at ease next to the old woman.


    After not too long they left the unequally paved road for a dirt one, and the hobbling got worse.


    "I-is i-it the rende-vouz c-cavern in the f-forest?" She asked while being shaken about.


    They didn''t answer.


    But the travel took them even further into the forest, over a barely flat use trail, out the other side next to the cliffs.


    There they travelled past rows of treestumps until they entered a wooden gate and the wheels thankfully skidded over flat road again.


    Out the window a small start to a livable outpost could be seen. Some buildings, a water tower, and smoking chimney pipes emerging from holes in the cliff that suggested something more going on below.


    One thing that caught her attention was a large podium, with tables and chairs in front. There various thieves'' guild members were gathered, discussing personal things for now until all invited were present.


    She could recognize her own husband, Mac, who lead the underground clubs, and the twins she had met before.


    Somehow they where there before her.


    She was about to step out, but Arnold put a hand on her shoulder.


    "I will be joining my competitors in a moment, but you have a different appointment." Lacrima stated, and gestured towards the doorless warehouse at the other side of the carriage.


    There stood Lydia harkness, ready to grab the prisoner.


    "My friend here thinks she can convert you to our side. We''ll see about that." The witch concluded, as she had Arnold help her out of the coach. "Have fun, dearie."


    -


    "With me." The former knight almost lifted the thief out of the carriage by herself when grabbing her arm.


    "What do you want from me?" Mabel gave a symbolic wriggle but did not seriously attempt to escape the warrior''s grasp to start a fight.


    She was dragged inside to a room full of wooden crates, where a few of the bandits were seated.


    What chairs they had had all been appropriated for the summit outside. They were seated on crates and loose wagon wheels.


    The healer was there, Stanford, as well as one of the guards, Huckabee. Lying on his side on a higher stacked crate


    was the one-eyed goblin she''d seen before, with the peculiar long sleeve. He was smoking what looked like a cigarette.


    Right in front of her, not looking her in the eyes, was her own sister.


    "Sit down." Harkness commanded.


    She obeyed, planting her backside on the smaller crate that had been put down for her, right across from her sister.


    "What''s this all about?"


    The goblin took his cigarette out of his mouth. "Well we were going to execute you-"


    Mabel shot up from her crate but got pushed down again by Harkness'' strong hand.


    "-but one of our highest ranking members has defended your innocence."


    Mabel looked around at the bandits.


    "Your sister. Idiot." The goblin said mockingly. "Isn''t that right, Barbs"


    Barbara still didn''t look at her. "I guess."


    "Now listen to this," Stanford began, "tonight Fyro will be taken out for leaking crucial information to Mildred of the adventurer''s guild. Intentionally."


    "You can''t do that!" Mabel raised her voice, but remained still, as she still felt the strong hand of the former knight on her shoulder. "Damn it, we''re leaders-"


    "Not without unanimous support from all other leaders. Isn''t that how it works?" Stanford insisted. "That''s why they''re here."


    "Even the liege has send those two here to speak on his behalf." Harkness added from behind her. "Fyro is the only one that doesn''t know the true purpose of this meeting, and the vote that is about to take place."


    "You''re not supposed to know either." The goblin chuckled, rolling on his back to stare at the ceiling. "As far as the others know, you don''t. Tell her Barbara."


    Now Barbara did look at her. "Tell them Mabel. If you tell the others about Fyro''s betrayal, you won''t be seen as a co-conspirator."


    "Do you understand what this is?" The goblin asked. "It''s a get-out-of-jail-free card from your loving sister."


    "It''s a painful decision." Stanford said sympathetically. "But there''s only one right one."


    Mabel blinked to hold back tears. "I don''t have a choice, do I? The entire guild has turned against us."


    "There will still be a smuggling route without Fyro." Stanford whispered softly. "You will not lose your income or your house."


    "You are the sister of our Barbara." The goblin commented. "That kinda makes you an aunt to our tribe. As long as we''re around, you will have the support to be able to keep power."


    "We have more than enough time to discuss this later." Harkness grunted, as she lifted Mabel upright again. "Now it''s time to confess."


    "Come on." The goblin sat upright. "Give each other a big goodbye hug. You''re sisters."


    Somewhat awkwardly the two embraced. Spitefully, Barbara whispered into Mabel''s ear. "We''re in the same boat now."


    <hr>


    From atop the platform, Scratch and Harkness looked over at the meeting of the guild leadership.


    There were more eaters seated in the area, but the thieves'' guild higher-ups were the guests of honor and received the most attention.


    Fyro''s wife mabel had just sat down with him. He seemed surprised by her presence, but not really alarmed. He was discussing something with an older gentleman, covered in jewelry.


    "You''re having too much fun with this." Harkness stated sternly, as she saw Scratch prepare for his musical performance.


    "It''s our moment of victory, baby." He stated. "We''re allowed to be a little smug about it."


    "I still don''t understand how in the world you arranged it, like this." She sighed.


    "It''s an old cop trick." He explained, as he tuned his lute. "If we think they already know everything, we will confess it all to get off lighter. Mabel couldn''t know that without her testimony there would be no conviction."


    "It can still go wrong, can''t it?"


    "I suppose it can." He turned to the other musicians. "Are you ready?" They nodded. Then he turned to her. "Are you?" She shrugged.


    He struck a few notes and began to sing.


    Sometimes I''m right, sometimes I''m wrong


    But she doesn''t care, he''ll string along


    He loves me so


    That funny honey of mine


    Sometimes I''m down, sometimes I''m up


    But he follows ''round like some droopy-eyed pup


    He loves me so


    That funny honey of mine


    As the song continued the talking at the leadership table became louder.


    Accusations began to fly.


    He ain''t no sheik, that''s no great physique


    Lord knows, he ain''t got the smarts


    But look at that soul, I tell you that whole


    Is a whole lot greater than the sum of his parts


    And if you knew him like me


    I know you''d agree


    What if the world slandered my name?


    Why, he''d be right there taking the blame


    He loves me so and it all suits me fine


    That funny, sunny, honey, hubby of mine!


    He loves me so


    That funny honey of mine


    Then the big words came out.


    Mabel turned away from Fyro, her face in her hands.


    Scratch''s singing became more gleeful and manic.


    Lord knows he ain''t got the smarts


    Now he''s shot off his trap I can''t stand that sap


    The two twins grabbed the man from behind and began to drag him off.


    As they did the song entered its last lines. Sung in a hard staccato.


    Look at him go, rattin'' on me


    With just one more brain what a half-wit he''d be


    If they string me up I''ll know who brought the twine


    That scummy, crummy, dummy, hubby of mine~


    -


    The goblins laughed cruelly as Fyro disappeared from sight forever.


    "Scratch..." Harkness whispered to herself. "you''re supposed to be better than me."


    <hr>


    shadow bandits


    When a thieves'' guild becomes too powerful, it can field shadow bandits in its territory. These are masked combatants that steal and rob within the confines of the city walls.


    In contrast to regular bandits, they are not outlaws. A shadow bandit ise a legal resident of the town that hides their identity in order to commit crimes.


    Not every criminal intending to remain anonymous is considered a shadow bandit, only trained enforcers for criminal organizations. Their threat level is usually between E and D.


    When combating shadow bandits it is vital to determine the identity of their employer, in order to expose the corruption within the city and restore law. The aid of trustworthy nobility is required.

 Making new friends

    "Did you see what they did to him?" Barbara asked.


    "Not very well." Scratch admitted. "I was on the tower, we were doing an ironic music thing."


    The two were staring off into the forest where the twin enforcers had dragged off the former guild leader.


    "I just wish I could have seen his face." She clenched her fist. "I can almost imagine his stupid expression at being betrayed."


    "Haha, okay." Scratch rolled his eyes. He looked down on people that held grudges, but he didn''t feel the need to antagonize her over it, so he simply changed the subject. "Are you content with the exchange?"


    "You mean the shop?"


    "Such as it is."


    With Fyro gone relations between the thieves and the bandits was now handled through the sisters. Correspondence was still by the same carrier pigeons, but it was Barbara that ordered supplies and sold smuggled wares to the Eston underground. To conduct this business she had been given her own storefront, a shack with a counter. That the bandits would have to use as a middleman in order to buy and sell goods.


    Currently it was being manned only by Linus, who sat behind the counter writing down orders and selling supplies to all residents that came by.


    "It''s a start." The woman answered. She looked over at the small hut, seemingly minute next to the tall perimeter walls and just as bare and unpainted. "I just know that this isn''t a selfless gift, you have an angle."


    "You do know me." Scratch smirked. "Everything has two reasons. As it happens, your sister is in a precarious situation. She sold out her family''s head to the other leaders, she wouldn''t be the presumptive replacement without a unique ability. The arrangement being what it is she can tout her special relationship with you. The same way you''re our gateway to Eston, she''s Eston''s gateway to us."


    "What? What''s your relationship with my sister then, that you want to prop her up?" Barbara frowned, still bearing resentment towards Mabel.


    "Come now." Scratch laughed. "You''re smarter than that. Why do we want a leader in the thieves'' guild whose power depends on us?"


    He eyes widened. "A puppet. Mabel has to do whatever she can to keep us happy!"


    "I had told you that I wouldn''t ask you to trust her." Scratch explained. "We don''t build our lives on people''s willingness to please us, but on their need to."


    -


    Discussing their strategy thusly they walked up to the shop and entered.


    "Back from our smoking break. Oh? I see there''s a line." Scratch commented.


    The goblin in front of them was dressed up in decorated pelts and feathers. Functionless wraps tied with lace encircled various parts on his body, including the feet, where they protected the soles but left a hole for the toenails to stick out. He turned around, and it was Fat, who had been their liaison at the tree tribe for a while now.


    "Ah Fat, it''s you! Ain''t you fine and dandy." Scratch patted his shoulder and looked him up and down.


    "I am!" Fat proudly displayed his adornments. "It''s a reward for good work." He looked at Scratch''s one long sleeve.


    "You too?"


    "Eh, this is nothing. What brings you here man? Homesick?" Scratch changed the subject.


    Fat shook his head then puffed out his chest. "We''re building a water tower. I was send to the Promise to trade materials."


    "The promise?" Scratch asked. "Did you name this place already, Barb?"


    But the goblin mother shrugged questioningly.


    Fat looked a little surprised, but then explained. "Everybody calls this place the Promise. Because of what you said."


    Scratch looked lost.


    "You know? ''This is a promise-'' when we chased out the killer."


    Scratch clapped his hands together. "Oh, I see now. When we promised to protect the tribes. That''s a pretty literal interpretation."


    "It makes sense." Barbara commented. "That''s what the whole wall is all about, isn''t it? To protect, like you promised."


    "Well, it''s as good a name as any." Scratch shrugged. "I don''t think just calling it ''the village'' is sustainable with all the villages we''re springing up around us."


    -


    The two goblins continued to exchange anecdotes about their lives while Barbara separated from them to check up on her son''s efforts.


    Linus was busy transcribing the tree home''s orders onto Scratch''s arcane bookkeeping system. His desk was low to the ground to service both humans and goblins and required the users to sit on the ground on a pillow.


    "Is- Is this double-entry?" Barbara raised her eyebrows at the vertical lists of numbers and accounts.


    "I have to credit and debit." Linus explained. "Debit is ''to-be-received''. Because they don''t have the money yet. But credit...."


    Barbara wrinkled her forehead. "When you debit, that''s increasing a liability or decreasing an asset. I think? So you decrease the value of the gems and bricks we have."


    "But we don''t have any gems and bricks yet." Linus complained. "It''s an order for the future."


    "Then... increase the amount on to-be-delivered. That''s a liability I think... Wait, are expenses a debit or a credit account? It shouldn''t it be credit?"


    "Guys. Guys." Scratch wrestled himself loose from Fat, who was just demonstrating the new fighting techniques he''d learned. "If there''s no exchange, there''s no accounting post. You just write it in your ''to-do'' list."


    Barbara leaned her elbow on the low table, the had to bend her spine more than she had expected to do so. She looked uncomfortable but didn''t correct her posture immediately to make it look intended. "Why are you making him do this complicated stuff? Do you know what double-entry bookkeeping is for?"


    Scratch didn''t grasp her meaning. "For... keeping books?"


    "It''s a technique used by nobles to detect embezzling. We don''t use it for small businesses. How can you know how it works but not what it''s for?"


    Scratch waved the question aside. "It''s not that hard once you get used to it. Linus is one of the smartest kids I know. These are the kind of skills that will benefit him in the future when he gets a career in upper management."


    Barbara and Linus looked at each other and smiled bemusedly. The idea that they would ever be administrating accounts belonging to nobles seemed preposterous.


    "But if you''re done with Fat''s orders I have a big one for you. And this one''s an accounting post, because I''m paying upfront."


    "What''s that?" Barbara asked for Linus.


    Scratch pulled a piece of paper and a pouch of gold out of his sleeve. "The first home construction of the village. The Harkness estate."


    "Oooh." The others poured over the small fortune.


    "Does Beatty approve of you spending his gold like that?" Barbara asked.


    "It''s a home loan, he understands. We don''t have any banks to supply those around here."


    "Well no... And even if there were, banks don''t hand out loans. That''s not something a bank does." She commented.


    He looked her straight in the eyes with a blank expression. "Silly me."


    "I heard there were baby dogs." Fat suddenly said. "Can I go see the new dogs?"


    "We''ll all go together once Linus is done with this order." Scratch decided. "He needs help walking. Then we''ll go pet the puppies."


    "Huh?"


    "Puppies is what baby dogs are called."


    <hr>


    -


    The new wall to the cave was coated with plaster, giving it a smooth pastel colour.


    The heavy wooden door and cat flap besides it stood out in the mellow background.


    The flap was large enough for the wolves to fit through comfortably, it was installed with them in mind. Yet when the brothers arrived a pair of the canines sat outside eying the entrance.


    When Barbara pulled open the person door they slipped through, their tails and ears pointed downwards and keeping the non-wolves in the corner of their eyes.


    "Is that what we got this thing for?" Scratch called after them through the flap. "Ingrates!"


    Inside was an altered foyer. It was less of a living room now, most of the soft furs and furniture had been moved farther into the tunnel while the front had been exposed to the open air. Only a few shelves with loose paper remained. On one chair next to the downward stairs Benjamin lay sleeping, his spear and shield slumped to the sides of his body.


    "Did you get to see the renovations?" Scratch asked Fat.


    "I was only here for digging out the rubble." Fat answered, it had fallen unto him to support Linus and help him walk, so the two shuffled through the door while Barbara held it open.


    "We moved everything back." Scratch explained. "You''ll see. It''s on our route."


    -


    The lower level was cooler and more comfortable for goblins. There were just over a dozen side rooms splitting off from the tunnel now, servicing as living spaces, workshops, or storage. Not all of them had doorways as neat as the first four.


    At points the column-like side of a cylinder would intersect with the tunnel walkway, narrowing their path. Chimneys carrying black smoke from the deep caverns out towards the surface.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    "I helped cut the tiles." Linus bragged, referring to the mosaic stone floor that gave them level footing.


    "It''s very nice." Fat flattered him.


    The end of the tunnel was unaltered since the last time Fat had visited. The stone stopped and was replaced by a wooden staircase, that led into a wooden room. A decorated negative sphere with plank flooring that had polished round holes in it to hold bedding for the wolves.


    Not much of the floor was visible under the backs of countless black wolves. Normally the beasts didn''t gather in the hall for most of the day, the small embers that the goblins kept in metal bowls to light up the room wasn''t enough for the creatures to see clearly. Now that there were new lives in the den they had more of a reason to congregate.


    Still, the sheer volume of quadrupeds surprised Scratch.


    There was a faint but deep murmur in the cave, as the animals conversed with each other in their own language. It drowned out the gentle clattering of the underground stream.


    "Mom?" Linus asked. "Are you coming?"


    Barbara stood frozen at the top of the staircase. Wrinkling her nose at the smell of animals. "I can''t see sh- anything.


    You go look at the puppies, Linus. I''ll be right here."


    "You''re becoming a real mother, aren''t you?" Scratch whispered to her as they began to step down.


    "Shut up." She whispered back.


    -


    The wolves had gotten used to goblins moving through their artificial home, but the mother growled at them when they approached the bed she''d made for her puppies.


    Wendy, Cyclophan''s wind wolf, put her nose in the mother''s neck to calm her down.


    "All mothers are protective of their kids." Scratch said. "So observe the etiquette, hm?"


    "If only that were true." Fat commented.


    "''If only''?" Linus mocked his use of language.


    The puppies were small and stocky. Their legs stubby and their eyes almost completely closed.


    "Aww." Linus cooed, an unlearned and involuntary response.


    Pentajo, the goblin that had moved in with the wolves as a package deal was in charge of the mother''s health while she neglected it to focus on her children. He just came by to deliver a bowl of fresh water. "Don''t- oh!"


    He had recognized Scratch as a high status member of the community and altered his tone to be less aggressive.


    "Please be careful."


    "It''s good to get them used to our presence at a young age." Scratch invented on the spot. It sounded like it was probably true.


    "How long until they grow up?" Fat asked.


    "A pup becomes big in three months." Pentajo stated sagely. "But they''re not- uh..."


    "Mature?" Scratch helped.


    "Mature. Before 8 months and 8 more. Wendy," he pointed at the wind wolf, "is many many months. Older than me."


    "Older than ''I''." Scratch corrected him.


    "Yes. That too."


    "No health concerns? I thought all of them were related." Scratch inquired while the others petted the puppies.


    Pentajo shook his head. "The... father... is not related."


    "It''s not one of those two, is it?"


    Two of the warg wolves, Nico and Bello, were dobermans that had been altered by the dungeon''s magic. Their minds were still childlike, like a dog''s.


    "No. The new pack."


    "New pack?"


    "Didn''t you notice?" Linus asked. "New dogs came from the forest. They follow Wendy."


    Scratch looked directly at the wind wolf, who calmly stared into the blank darkness. She had left the mother to converse with the two wolves they had let in.


    "No wonder they didn''t know how to work the dog way." He remarked dryly. "How many wolves are here now?"


    "I don''t know... big numbers." Pentajo said apologetically.


    "Well, give it your best shot. As much as there are goblins? More? Less?"


    Pentajo''s face scrunched up as he tried to match a wolf to each goblin in his head.


    "With these ones it''s 5 times 10." Linus helped.


    "So fifty." Scratch answered.


    "And a bit."


    "That''s great!" Fat roared. "Wolves are so fast, you can travel between the homes, take carts and stuff."


    "Eh." Scratch shrugged. "They aren''t horses. They''re fast with just a goblin on their back, but they can''t carry much, and they can''t pull a carriage to save their lives. Besides, they''ve got their own little will. Except for Nico and Bello they won''t carry you at all if it''s not for something drastic."


    "... Can we give them a name?" Linus asked, looking at the puppies. "You gave Wendy a name."


    "Tell you what." Scratch decided. "If you can get one to do what you want, you can give him a name."


    Pentajo tugged on Scratch''s sleeve. "With so many dogs, the cave is small..."


    "Yeah. You take that barking horn and you tell them that the next time they plan on expanding the horde, they should check with us if improving accommodations is convenient for us."


    "Conve- So will you?"


    "I''ll put it on the list."


    <hr>


    Below the growing town on the surface, underneath the dark burrows of the goblins, down the wide open depths, and above Cyclophan''s core, the steel mill was still in full operation.


    Its noxious gases were captured in a tall pillar that entered the cavern''s ceiling into a drilled pathway towards the top of the dungeon.


    The iron from the higher caves had been exhausted by now. Lacrima had given them another magical item to procure more.


    The thing had arrived via Mabel, a test of her loyalty, during the regular transaction of contraband. It looked like a mundane three-pronged tree branch, but when firmly grasped by two ends it pointed its user towards pockets of iron in the stone. Scratch had referred to it as ''magnetic''.


    Scratch had also suggested that they stockpile the lighter gray stone that surrounded the lines of pure iron they dug up. The ore was heaped up in an increasingly large mount next to the forge and had no practical application.


    When digging up new pockets the goblins would install temporary mining camps. Wooden pathways branched out to reach the new areas where they encircled holes in the ground and walls and supported basic shelter for tools. This spreading architecture gradually tamed the foreign rock and turned it into a known place, the deep home.


    The goblins weren''t paid for their mining work. Part of the promise to new mothers in the human-goblin alliance was supposed to be that the children would form a single large household for the mother to oversee. Barbara''s children staying below the surface for an enterprise that didn''t benefit her and that they did not receive compensation for her to spend was a violation of that agreement. She didn''t seem interested in pursuing the issue and if anyone did, they could be told to take it up with the witch.


    -


    No imperative from Lacrima existed to cover up the side entrances to the cavern like Cyclophan wanted. Scratch made some empty promises to the evil god that he saw through immediately. Cyclophan reminded Scratch of his duties once more, Scratch reminded him of his needs, and eventually they came to an agreement that the forge cave would be walled off ''eventually''.


    "Eventually, we''re going to have to wall off these side paths." Scratch mentioned to George while they and Fyro were inspecting a diverging hollow. He was looking up at the arch cleaving the rock face into a shaft leading sharply down. It was on the opposite end of the cavern from the forge and the dungeon core, facing away from the sea.


    "Why?" George wondered.


    "Keep some people happy. Keep some monsters out..." He trailed off. "How high is that, anyway?"


    "How much was a foot?" George asked.


    "A foot is this much." Scratch held his hands thirty centimeters apart. "If you mean the unit, not the body part."


    "I think it''s got to be, like, twenty times that." Fyro said.


    "It''s about as high as the forge chimney." Scratch estimated. "But it''d be a lot wider, blocking this off would be the largest wall we''ve ever done."


    "You want to build it all the way to the top?" George asked. "Because of birds?"


    "Birds would come from the other end, at the sea. Here it would be bats."


    George stared off into the dark cave. "Fyro went in the day before yesterday."


    "What? I didn''t hear about that."


    "I didn''t see any bats, but I saw water. There''s a river down there."


    Scratch furrowed his brow. "I''m confused. Is there already a rope ladder down there then?"


    "I climbed down on the rocks." Fyro answered. "There''s lots of stones to hold on to."


    The uncle looked slightly annoyed. "So you risked your life."


    "No... well, not much."


    "Was anybody there to get help if you''d fallen?"


    "Yeah. George was there, right George?"


    George shrugged. "I was nearby."


    Scratch sighed. "I''ll chew you out later. Let''s throw this thing down and have a look.


    -


    Rope ladders using important human-made rope were reliable and strong. They just needed an equally strong anchoring point.


    Having left the wooden walkway and treading the cold stone the trio nailed the rope to the edge of the descending tunnel. Then they rolled it out through the unseen depths, hearing it rattle against the curving stone as it unfolded into a stairway.


    "After you Mr. Explorer." Scratch gestured for Fyro to take the lead.


    "Thank you." He responded, not detecting the ironic tone.


    The crack in the stone resumed horizontally after the sharp. drop-off. The rope ladder was slightly longer than necessary, its end was spread out horizontally on the floor.


    "Gimme the crossbow." Fyro demanded as they had reached the bottom.


    "Do you do everything Fyro tells you?" Scratch asked his nephew as George exchanged the weapon for the cinder lantern.


    "If he wants to carry it he can carry it, less work for me." George shrugged.


    "In that case you can have the dowser." Scratch handed over Lacrima''s gift to him and took the lamp for himself. "Go see if there''s any iron around here. Anything big, we''re not expanding down here for scraps."


    The space they were in narrowed down quickly with distance from the entrance. It was a jagged tear into the stone.


    "I don''t see any bats or water." Scratch commented, peering off into the darkness. He held up the lantern to see, the glowing embers in the casing gave off enough light for a goblin to see.


    "Just a bit further." Fyro took the lead, the crossbow slumped over his shoulder.


    Hidden by the texture of the rock were several side passages, splitting the rock into a web way of diverging and conjoining paths.


    "I''m not feeling anything." George said as he followed after Fyro, firmly grasping the iron finder.


    "We have to get our iron somewhere." Scratch insisted, likewise treading behind.


    "We already have a lot. We just don''t know what to do with it." George countered. They were following a criss-cross path through a small maze of tunnels that Fyro was laying out.


    "What do you mean?"


    "We keep making steel. But it''s really hard to turn it into metal suits. Every time we try it breaks, or it becomes too thin, or something else. So we have to smelt it again."


    "I see. Experimentation can only get you so far. We need a real blacksmith to help us out."


    George thought a bit about the way Scratch had phrased and then agreed. "...Yeah.


    "Here it is!" Fyro proudly displayed a tiny stream of water trickling over the stone floor.


    "No iron." George stated, waving the magic item above it.


    Scratch was similarly unimpressed. "I guess that''s it. Let''s get out of here."


    "Hey wait." Fyro protested. "There''s more."


    "More water?" Scratch scoffed.


    "Just come look."


    Around the bend the stream led into a proper underground lake. A shallow pool with a low ceiling and a shore of dry floor on the other side.


    Small scaleless reptiles swam through the clear water.


    "There''s plants in the water." Fyro claimed. "It''s like the doghouse, it''s-"


    "Wait a minute." Scratch held his hand in front of his lantern. "The water, it''s light."


    "Yes."


    "No, I mean there''s light coming from the water. There''s something underneath..."


    He began to wade through the water, kicking up dust to get a closer look at the strange shining bottom. With the soil out of the way a powerful glow shone through, bathing the room is refracted green light. It was intensely hot, scalding Scratch''s legs and making him recoil back onto the shore.


    "Wow..." Fyro said, taking in the light show illuminating the cave.


    At the other end of the pool, a part of the wall stirred. In the bright magical light what had seemed like stone was revealed as clearly alive.


    A hulking ape heaved itself upright, still leaning on its enormous forearms. It had a human quality to it, a head of scraggly hair with curling horns and the face of a man. But its body was closer to that of a great ape, with fists the size of its head.


    From where they were standing the goblins couldn''t make out the creature''s facial expression, but a tension filled the space as the two parties sized each other up.


    The monster made some aggressive grunts and immediately Fyro released the crossbow bolt. It flew straight and hard, right into its shoulder. But instead of penetrating the skin it deflected to the side. It left only a deep cut, hurting rather than crippling it.


    The monster released a thunderous and furious yell. "Ngaaah!" And began to storm towards them.


    It ran like a gorilla, propelling itself forward and storming through the shallow water like a snow piercer.


    "Run!" Scratch yelled, and the three fell back into the web work of tunnels.


    Fyro released another shot before turning the corner, hitting the nose and cutting open the face.


    "I think we can kill it!" He yelled while reloading. "I think we can win."


    But the screaming from inside the cave multiplied as countless of the creature''s family responded to its calls and came rushing after them.


    "Run run run." Scratch kept repeating, and they did run. They put the whole of their little bodies into the act of sprinting, feeling the stomping of angry behemoths catch up to them.


    When they reached the rope ladder they had so much adrenaline and momentum that they scaled it instantly.


    Fyro was last up the steps and could feel the air pressure of a 500 pound bulldozer leaping towards his back. The body heat of the beast touched him as an enormous hand encircled his leg.


    But before it could close around him George gave him a good pull and Scratch smashed the crossbow against the rope ladder, snapping the rope and dislodging the nails.


    The monster had been holding on to their rope and plunged into the depths as it gave away. They could hear it scream in rage as it smacked into the jagged floor below.


    "Hah Haah." Fyro panted. Death had been close enough to touch him with fear just then, when the beast was about to drag him down.


    "What a shock!" Scratch laughed. "They can''t climb up here, can they?"


    "Stones are too loose," George responded "... I think."


    The three began to back away from the opening.


    "Where''s the dowsing rod, George?" Scratch looked at him up and down.


    "Dropped it. And I''m not gonna go down and get it back."


    He nodded in understanding. "Very wise."


    <hr>


    Troll


    Family: Subhumans


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 15 copper pieces


    Trolls are a special type of subhuman. They are equivalent to ogres in their threat, but instead of on the surface they live underground. Trolls can be recognized by their large forearms and curly horns. Their skin is gray. They bother human settlements at night in order to steal food and kill livestock, but return to their caves before morning, except in alpine and polar zones where they wander about even during the day.


    Trolls are fiercely territorial within their underground lairs. They live in gaggles of up to twenty and possess the fearless trait, causing them attack anything that moves. Exterminating a troll lair is a party quest of level D that can result in a promotion to level C.


    Like most subhumans, trolls can see in the dark. They pose an excessive danger within their caverns, which is what makes exterminating a lair a promotion quest.

 In Their Thoughts

    "You''ve got fifteen minutes." The lawyer checked his watch and peered out of the tinted window. "We''re protected by attorny-client privilege, so there''s nobody listening."


    Our lead sat down on the harsh concrete seat of the prison meeting cell. It was mere days now before his unexpected death by Benesant''s warriors.


    "You look terrible old man. Aren''t they feeding you?" He mocked the man in front of hm.


    "You got some nerve coming in here." The prisoner grunted.


    "Believe me. You''re the least threatening person I''ve met all year." Was the response. "Wanna smoke?" He offered him a cigarette.


    The older man looked disgusted at the thing. "I smoke cigars, boy. Get that fag stick out of my face."


    "Fine." He lit one up for himself. "Let''s get to talking."


    "Yeah? You think I''m gonna save your ass after what you did?"


    "Save my ass?" He coughed and laughed. He looked at the lawyer to find mutual derision for the old boss, but the lawman kept a straight face.


    The new boss collected himself, feeling slightly silly for being the only one to respond so strongly. "Tell me your price has-been. Call off the dogs and we''ll get you a bigger cell. Some of those cigars you like maybe. Cuban?"


    The old boss scowled. "You don''t respect anything do you-"


    "Here we go." The new boss rolled his eyes.


    "You never respected the family. You never respected the code. You never respected the hustle."


    The preaching was met with a mocking pantomime, the younger man opened and closed his hand in the air like a chatty mouth.


    "Are you really in any position to preach, mister? You''re beat, and you know it. This whole thing is spiteful, think about your new position and what we can do for you. Instead of clinging onto some demented payback scheme."


    The old boss leaned back. "They''re not my men."


    "Come now."


    "You think payback is spiteful, boy? Payback is inevitable, but not through me." He pointed upward. "Everybody gets what''s coming to them sooner or later. What have you done lately, to build the community?"


    The younger man took the cigarette out of his mouth again and crossed his arms, refusing to answer.


    "Nothing, right? Tell you something sonny, reaching the top is easy. Nobody ever told you this because they thought you''d know. All you gotta do is break the rules, have no respect for anything or anyone."


    "Uh-huh." The new boss was more than a little skeptical.


    "But you can''t stay on top breaking the rules, capiche? You did the easy part, you broke the machine. Now you''re at the hard part, maintaining it. And you can''t do that, a no-good, no-respect punk like you, no way."


    "I see. So really, it''s my own fault."


    "That''s right."


    "You hearing this?" He turned to the lawyer again. "It''s me barbequing buttons. Can you believe it?"


    "I''ve been telling you for months. With hits this visible someone is bound to strike back, inside or outside the law." The lawyer answered.


    The old boss burst out laughing. "You get as much respect as you give."


    "Shut it old man!" Briefly the new boss flashed with anger, but then immediately calmed down. "I understand that there is nothing we can do for each other."


    The old boss crossed his arms defiantly. "Nothing."


    "Then we will never meet again. Enjoy your retirement old-timer." He stood up to leave.


    "Yeah right." The other called after him. "You''ll come crawling- Hey! Are you listening!?"


    But they had already left the room and spoken to the guard.


    The prisoner was taken back to his cell and they never saw each other again.


    <hr>


    Scratch shook his head to rid himself of his ominous remembrance. He wasn''t in the mood for self-reflection or maintaining any machines.


    He was showing Lydia Harkness the industry around the trading post.


    "Why did you bring me here?" She inquired about it.


    "To ease your mind." He tapped the side of his nose. "Didn''t you make me promise the bandits wouldn''t be exploited?"


    She looked out over the impromptu flea market that had emerged around the paved roads. Most of the bandits remaining in the Promise were men, but there were some women, Denise and her daughter most notably. They were inspecting and trading goods imported from the human world.


    "It''s called comparative advantage, a neo-liberal hobbyhorse." He explained to her. "Every craftsman here specializes in a trade. They ship off furniture and rugs and what-not to the colonies, and they get the low-skilled labour intensive products in return. That''s an efficiency increase over the autarkic commune you were trying to have before."


    She looked at him. "Do you realize how much of what you say is meaningless babble?"


    "Call it a quirk."


    "But I do understand." She continued. "The camp has become more like a human city. That''s what you want, isn''t it? To be more like humans."


    He gave her a side glance. "The parts that work."


    "Hey." She stooped down to touch his shoulder. "We''re on the side of good, aren''t we? Or not evil."


    "Oh, Lydia," He smiled and touched her cheek, "Lydia Lydia. Lady Ah." In a meaningless non-answer.


    -


    They strolled around for a bit, perusing wares on their date about town.


    "Can you get by everything, Denise?" Harkness asked the mother straight out as they walked into her, skipping any formality.


    "Hhm." She paused to look at the bandit leader. "Is everything alright, Lydia? What''s behind a change like this?"


    "We''re extending our ambitions." Harkness spoke with confidence, taking full responsibility for the decision. "We''re aiming to become a real town."


    "I see... I suppose we couldn''t be one big family forever. Still, it feels unpleasant charging for the daily gruel." She looked around and leaned in a bit. "Me an Cobaline are getting by, but some of the older fellows are having trouble finding a niche. They''re too proud to admit it, they don''t want to be accused of being a drain you know, but as it is now..."


    "Unemployment." Scratch interjected from below. "Sounds like they''d be thankful for a construction gig, ey Lydia?"


    "You are set on having a human house, aren''t you?" She sighed in bemusement.


    "Poor old Denise has been cooking gruel for free all these years. Now that''s she''s setting prices she can collect some personal things from around here, can''t you Denise?" Scratch began.


    Denise nodded. "In just a few days the wealth in the camp has been flowing into my pockets. I feel terribly guilty, but I can not lower prices any further-"


    "You don''t have to. Your clients will balance their accounts when they find a way to earn their keep. A good ol'' stimulus expense from uncle moneybags in the short-term, some sort of export opportunity in the long-term."


    The two stared at him.


    "Uncle moneybags is us." He explained. "I''m digging into the gold supply. I said I would."


    Denise looked at Harkness. "That''s all well and good, but you can''t pay them in gold. They wouldn''t be able to buy anything small."


    "I hadn''t considered that." She answered. "We''d need to do some exchanging with Mabel''s Eston. But thieves don''t like large coins either..."


    "I''m sure it''ll work out." Scratch dismissed the issue.


    "Och. I almost forgot." Denise perked up. "Cobaline! Cobaline, come by, mister Scratch is here."


    The young girl ran away and then came back, clutching something in her tiny fist.


    "She has been knitting that thing for weeks." The mother said proudly. "It''s meant for you."


    The girl outstretched her arm and handed him a small white object. He held it up to look at it, it was a white eye patch, witch embroidery on the front. It depicted a stylized rabbit''s head, more cute and cartoony than the real thing.


    "It''s... an eye patch." He smiled awkwardly. It was a great deal more cutesy than he would like to present himself as.


    "I like it." Harkness commented with a bit more breath than usual. "Put it on."


    Not seeing any way out the goblin patriarch took off the dusty old bandage covering his face, and replaced it with the white bunny eye patch.


    "Very pretty." Denise said.


    "It suits you." Harkness added.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    "Hhm." Scratch responded. "Thank you."


    Cobaline held up her hand. "Two copper."


    "Cobaline!" Her mother reacted in shock.


    Scratch burst out in laughter. He liked the item a lot more after that.


    <hr>


    In truth, preparations for the construction of a home had been going on already, and the project could start off almost immediately.


    It was the first major project that involved no goblin labour.


    The way their society ended up developing was that no goblins, other than Scratch, were independent. If they did any work at all, it was in the name of their master.


    This was because their society was modeled after the family unit. With goblins being given the role of children.


    Every colony had a mother, who decided over its future and finances. A position in earned in return for the use of her body.


    Inside the Promise Barbara held such a position, but she had to share her authority with Scratch.


    These families were single households, with the goods they acquired distributed within at the discretion of the family head.


    Scratch and Harkness had a similar family arrangement with their children. Though with their numbers, it wouldn''t be appropriate to say they were structured like a family, as much as just being one.


    The construction of the new estate was not done in the name of Barbara, or any of the colony mothers, it was purely for the young Harkness family. It was therefore not obvious to make Fyro and his younger siblings lend a hand. All of the work was done by strong workmen with expertise. Human men.


    "Are we going to live in a tower?" Jasper asked his father while the two watched over the humans putting the wooden framework of the second level on top of the brick walls of the first.


    "I wouldn''t call it that, but to be honest I don''t know the classification of buildings." He responded. "We''ll have two floors, one to receive guests and live in, and one to sleep in."


    "Wouldn''t we be living while we sleep anyway?"


    "...Yes."


    Jasper scratched the back of his head nervously. "I... like our rooms we have now."


    "What? That damp cave next to the workshops? Come now. You''re going to have a room of your own, with a real bed."


    "...Alone?"


    "Yes. Some privacy at last, right? And you''ll have a mattress."


    Jasper went silent.


    Ada come stomping towards them, her hair falling wildly over her face. "They kicked me out. They said I''m in the way. Tell them I can help!"


    "Why?"


    "Why? Because I''m stronger than any of them. I can lift way more bricks!"


    "How about you let the pro''s do their job, hun? It''s what they''re being paid for. They know what they''re doing."


    Ada didn''t like the answer. "This money thing is weird. Before, when mom wanted something she''d tell the humans to do it, and when we wanted something you''d tell the goblins to do it."


    Scratch gave Jasper a knowing look and then addressed Ada again. "Come sit down, honey."


    She crossed her arms and dropped down beside him, staring the same way towards the house. "It''s stupid."


    He moved behind her and began to comb her hair out of her face with his fingers. "Your mother and I have always wanted a lot more things than we asked for."


    "Well, why-?"


    "When your late uncle- you never met him- stepped back to let me lead the tribe, it was because he believed that I would make it better, stronger."


    "And you did, didn''t you?"


    "I did. Today, everyone in the cave does what I tell them to. And they do it because it makes the lives of the goblins that live here better."


    Ada contemplated his words for a bit, she could see where he was going.


    "If I made them do things that didn''t make life better, if I made them fetch me drinks and collect jewelry, they wouldn''t follow me anymore."


    "But you do make people fetch you drinks." Jasper protested.


    "My point is: we''re not doing that anymore. From now on everything anybody does is for their own benefit. That way, everybody is always doing something that contributes. That''s reason one."


    "Because you always have two reasons for everything." Ada noted.


    "That''s right." Scratch was done fixing her hair. "The second is so that everybody can associate with anybody. We''re opening up to any outsiders that want to deal with us. It''s a diplomatic move."


    Ada turned around. "And what about us? Do we have to go along with this weird money thing?"


    "Your mother and I are already discussing an allowance. For things to fill your new rooms with."


    She was about to protest, but then she looked closer at his face. "You''ve got a new... a new uh..."


    "Eye patch." He gave her the word. "Did you only notice just now?"


    "It''s weird." She said.


    He pinched her nose. "Your next chore is to find some words to replace ''weird'' with, you use it too much."


    <hr>


    It took just over a week to complete the outline of every room that was to be build.


    Following the initial design, the base took the shape of two wings encircling either side of the cave square. The upper floor lay on top of it, but was connected at the back, over top the dungeon entrance, akin to a u-shape.


    Double rows of thin pillar encircled the square now, holding up the parts of the upper floor with no building underneath, the bridge above the cave and the overhang of the wings. What had previously been a square was now an atrium.


    It was far along, but far from livable. Most of the walls weren''t filled in completely, the floors lay open, and there was no roof.


    At that point, Lydia Harkness decided to have the dove till moved into the incomplete home.


    "Careful!" Stanford shouted from the sidelines as the cage, alongside its living inhabitant, was heisted onto the second floor. He then turned to the bandit leader. "Lydia Harkness. What have those poor birds ever done to you?"


    She showed very little expression. "Messenger pigeons benefit from high nests. We''ve always suffered delays due to them circling in search of their home. Now we have a tall structure. We''re making use of it."


    He crossed his arms. "This is not another political play, I should hope? First access to incoming mail? Showing Scratch that you''re taking control?"


    She gave him a look intense enough too uncross his arms and hold them straight against his sides. "No. This is a group decision."


    The goblins were involved in the measure, Scratch and his sons encouraging Ada, who was holding the cage up while the men secured it to the top of the left wing.


    Once the dove till had been attached, it looked like a little tower head, sticking out even above the second floor.


    "Aviary in place." Scratch confirmed.


    Stanford was skeptical. "Do you really believe a bird would more easily-"


    As he said that, the shadow of a bird descended from the sky and gracefully perched on top of the wooden framework.


    "What was that!?"


    "A raven!" One of the workmen said. "He''s carrying a message!"


    A few men attempted to grab it as it hopped up and down the dove till, inspecting its openings and pecking at the bird.


    Eventually it was Ada who managed to grab it. Her grip was powerful and crushing, making it crow in pain.


    "It''s writing, but I don''t recognize it." Scratch pondered, having obtained the small roll of paper the raven had had attached to its claw. "It''s in some kind of code."


    "Give me that." Harkness demanded. "It''s written in cursive."


    "Oh."


    Having read it, she folded it over and put it in her pocket.


    "Well, what did it say?" Somebody asked.


    "It''s sensitive information." Was her response.


    "You laying claim to the dove till and the very same day you receive sensitive information?" Stanford asked. "Lydia. What in the world are you up to."


    "Stanford!" Scratch suddenly addressed him. "Long time no see. Are you charging enough for your healing to earn a meal?"


    "Actually, my main business is meat cutting." He responded.


    "Say what?"


    "My father was a butcher you see. I thought that I would follow in his footsteps, but the monastery-"


    "Scratch." Harkness interrupted. "Can I see you downstairs. I would like to discuss this message. Ada, please put the bird in the cage."


    "Sure thing." Scratch gave Stanford a reassuring wink and lead the way into the dungeon.


    -


    In the foyer she retrieved the paper from her pocket again. "Listen to this:"


    Dear friend,


    your dungeon is growing very well. I have no doubt that your days of casting your power over the eastern coastline are steadily approaching.


    It seems like I am not the only one taking note of your progress. The duke of Dichtershire himself has been made aware and has send for the construction of an army fortress nearby. I trust that, given this information, you will be able to nip it in the bud.


    -R


    "Who''s this friend? A dungeon? I... what?" A slight panic appeared in her eyes.


    He looked around trying to come up with something, and decided to tell a partial truth. "Yes. The cave is a dungeon. We''ve been using it to source our magic but-"


    "Oh no.." She exasperated and sunk onto a stool.


    "But I don''t know who this ''R'' character is. In order to intimidate Lacrima, I let her believe someone called Yanis is in control of the dungeon. Perhaps this ''R'' came by this information via her, and is trying to cozy up to that man."


    "Yanis." She covered her face. "The mad sorcerer... Scratch, how could you be so **stupid**."


    Scratch liked to think of himself as someone whose pride isn''t easily hurt, but he responded defensively. "We do what we need to survive, Lyd."


    "Do you know what it means for the army to establish a fort here?" She asked rhetorically.


    "No."


    "I''ll tell you. Adventurers hate it. It means patrols of knights everywhere, destroying all monsters in sight, eradicating bandit camps by the root. The whole area will be wiped clean."


    "Knights... knights are stronger than your average adventurer, aren''t they?"


    "Around here, yes. You know that I am a former knight." She said. "But the troops are better trained and better organized than me."


    "With how many do they patrol?"


    "Too many, Scratch. Too many. This place is a stone in the road compared to my family."


    He thought for a second. "So we just need to do what R said, and nip it in the bud, right? Prevent them from ever getting established."


    "We don''t have the power to do that." She sighed. "Even if as much humans lived in this village as goblins we don''t have a force that can measure up to an army fortress."


    "Maybe we do." He grinned. "I''m owed one more blasphemy, aren''t I?"


    She looked at him with suspicion. "Yes?"


    "Come with me."


    On their way down to the down to the deepest part of the cave, they barely spoke. Alone with her thoughts Harkness'' despair for the future grew stronger. She had no doubt that the letter spoke true, and that a force was coming that could wipe them all out. If she could sacrifice her life to save her people from destruction, then that''s what she''d do. That''s what knights did after all.


    <hr>


    "Are you ready, Lydia?"


    "Ready."


    What are you doing?


    I''m summoning another demon familiar.


    You could kill her.


    "I''m starting the process now."


    Scratch and Harkness were holding hands over the devil altar. Scratch was smoking blue grass to commune with the abyss, which also allowed Cyclophan to speak with him.


    If the bandit leader dies, that is regrettable. But the power I encountered is worth it.


    What are you thinking? Don''t you realize-


    But Cyclophan''s voice faded far away. Scratch had no trust in his counsel, it seemed to him that Cyclophan would try to prevent as much as possible Scratch gaining any power not dependent on the dungeon. It''s what he would have done in his place.


    Floating through the dark abyss, Scratch''s soul tried to find the unendingly large inferno of power he had encountered before. The one that had promised its service in exchange for "the love of a woman".


    Just as he began to think it wouldn''t be so easy, he encountered it. Out of nowhere it filled up his entire vision.


    ''Summoner'' It hissed, ''grant me the love of a woman, I shall grant you strength, magic, beyond your highest potential.''


    "Lydia" He said out loud. "Are you ready to make a sacrifice?"


    "I can, if you make me a promise." He heard her say, her voice came from high up in the realm of living things, yet he could hear it. "Whatever it is you''re getting out of it, use it for the good of my people as well. They deserve it."


    "Then we''re agreed." Scratch proclaimed. "Demon. I have a woman for you."


    Suddenly he was back in front of the altar. Harkness opened her eyes and patted her body. "I''m alive."


    "Did you think we were sacrificing your life!?" He asked in unbelief. "You should have negotiated for a bit more if that''s what you thought."


    In-between them, with folded legs, sat a young boy around the same apparent age as Scratch. He was wearing a felt suit with a tie and his hair was in a bowl cut that went over his eyes.


    "Y-you!" Harkness jumped up in shock. "No. How dare you take that form."


    "That is the sacrifice ma''am." He grinned sadistically. "The love of a woman. It grants me the form that I need. Just like my sisters need the love of a man."


    She looked at the demon, at Scratch, who was all rather non-plussed by the course of events, back to the demon, then she ran off.


    "You should probably go after her." The demon laughed. "She loves you. Otherwise she would never have agreed to this."


    "I will. In a moment." Scratch answered cautiously. "What is your name?"


    "What would you like it to be?"


    "You must have been given a name at some point?"


    "Oh, many. A new face, a new name."


    "Then let''s stick with ''you there'' for now."


    You There shrugged, then got up on all fours and crawled towards him. "So do you want to begin, or...?"


    "Stay there." Just as he said it, Scratch''s mind became hazy and his vision blurred.


    You There gave a girlish laugh. "What other demons have you bound to you? A manabelt? When you command a familiar, you put a part of your mind into theirs, to override their will. How much mind do you have to spare, hm?"


    I warned you. Cyclophan send out on the last few vapors of blue grass smoke. Don''t summon demons that I don''t understand. I can''t help you if you mess with things beyond even my power.


    While the demon was not able to leave his place on the altar, Scratch had to maintain the same level of concentration he would have to give himself when fighting other instincts. He got the hang of it and straightened himself. "Don''t get cocky, schoolboy. You''re not that different from the manabelt from where I''m standing." Still, he wasn''t confident that he could manage anything more complex.


    "You don''t need to be afraid of me..." The schoolboy put a finger in his mouth. "I won''t hurt you..." The way he said it gave a strong impression of the opposite.


    "What about that promise of yours? Strength? Magic? Can you provide that?"


    "Naturally."


    "Good. Because of we have some knights that need jousting."


    <hr>


    familiars


    Among accomplished mages, there are those that have the power to summon and control familiars. This is an ability separate from monster taming.


    First and foremost, monster taming is an inborn gift, while familiar summoning is an acquired skill. Mages study magic in order to learn the secrets of binding familiars.


    What''s more, monster tamers go out in the world in order to find monsters to bind to them, while familiars are created by the magic itself.


    But most importantly, familiars are very rarely used in combat. It requires significant resources and preparation in order to obtain even a small familiar, many nobles consider the life of their familiars more precious than those of their retinue. For that reason, they are kept away from danger. They are primarily used to send messages.


    Familiars are vessels of servile spirits, it is by the nature of the spirit that the vessel derives its form. The shape of a familiar is therefore very telling for the personality and loyalties of the owner, the familiars of good and just mages will take the forms of white doves, foxes, or other beautiful creatures, while evil mages tend to associate with spirits that take the form of insects or bats. Demons, too, can be summoned from the abyss as familiars. A mage that wields a demon familiar has no consideration of their own sanity or the sanctity of creation, there can be no negotiation with an enemy like that, they must be slain immediately.

 Considerations

    ''You There'' had no real interest in the details of the conflict.


    While Scratch was explaining the situation he stared off in the direction Lydia Harkness had ran off to.


    "What is her name?" The demon purred romantically, interrupting Scratch''s speech.


    "Who?"


    "My friend, you know who. Stunning and statuesque, the amazon packaged in a jumpsuit."


    Scratch suddenly became agitated hearing another praise her beauty. "That''s not your concern."


    "Oh, but it is, isn''t it? You chose her to grant me a form. You''ve given her away."


    Scratch furrowed his brow. "This deal, ''the love of a woman''..."


    You There licked his lips. "You''ve traded her for my power. Is it not an arrangement exemplar in its fairness? As they say: equivalent exchange..."


    "And if I were to renege on our deal? I never signed anything."


    You There started to laugh. "You do not understand the mechanisms of your machinations, friend~! The deal is already completed. As with the annelid on your wrist, the sacrifice is that which allows me to reside on this plane."


    Scratch rolled up his sleeve. "The manabelt drinks blood..."


    "And an incubus requires the shape of a man." You there rolled around on the altar surface where he was allowed.


    "The mind of your friend provides me with one. Her ideal lover."


    "That''s you?"


    "That''s me."


    "I see. So just because of your body you consider Lydia pre-seduced."


    "Lydia..." You There tasted the name.


    Scratch rapped his fingers on the altar. He was annoyed by how annoyed he was. Surely, this would only benefit him. Why the tight chest?


    "Lydia Harkness leads a band of outlaws at the edge of civilization. We''re under threat by more organized forces, to someone like her, fleeing is not an option. I understand, then, that our interests align?"


    The demon looked at him curiously. "Shifted to negotiation, have you? You know, I''ve been summoned by broken gods before, but never as a familiar. Who is your master? What''s his domain?"


    Scratch was taken aback. "I don''t-"


    "Ah! A maiden is shy with her womanhood. And a magician is coy with his secrets. Let me in little goblin, I''ll be your first..."


    "Haha, okay." Scratch made a T shape with his hands. "Time out on this whole thing. I don''t what kind of bit you''re doing but I need you to back all the way off." At some point he had risen to his feet in order to regain a sense of power, he only now noticed.


    The demon shrugged. "I am under your control, master. Simply command me, and I will hold my tongue. Instruct my every word and movement and your demon servant will follow any etiquette you''d like." His eyes weren''t visible under the bowl cut, but he was staring Scratch straight into the eyes.


    "But really, I would be doing it for you, just puppeteering your body. That''s how familiars work, right?"


    He nodded smugly.


    Scratch breathed deeply in and out, then put on a salesman smile. "Let''s get on one page. I can''t control your every move, obviously. Tell me what you want, we can move forward towards mutual benefit."


    The demon stared at him for a moment. "What do I want? Are you that innocent? I am a demon."


    "So?"


    "I noticed that your master did not select me for you."


    "That-"


    "Indulge me. What sins do you commit on your masters orders?"


    "You misunderstand. I have no master. Cyclophan and I work together for mutual benefit."


    A smile creeped up the demon''s face, turning into a full grin. "I see! Cyclophan. Trickery! Equal partners you say."


    "That''s not how I phrased it."


    The demon stood straight up and made a bow. "The forces of evil. At your disposal."


    "Just like that? What''s your angle?"


    "My ''angle'', little master, is the angle of all demons. Corruption, suffering, death!" You There giggled girlishly. "This time under the banner of deception. Now that I have a body, I can once again help my brethren tear down the works of the gods."


    Scratch stuck out his hand. "If I get the message you''re a mean piece of work that can snap at any moment, is that right?"


    The demon took his hand and shook it. "That is exactly right. We demons are evil incarnate, a nightmare made flesh. Are you scared?"


    "You can call me Scratch. And nobody ever got to be anybody without taking risks others won''t. That said, yes, you scare the shit outta me. Better work on that if you want a longer leash."


    The two were still clasping hands. "Rest assured, I have caught your meaning. Being scary does not give me power, does it? No machismo with mister Scratch in charge."


    "Think of it as marching under the banner of deception."


    After a moment they both led go.


    "Let me catch up to the ''amazon''." Scratch stated as he led the way.


    "After you master, I am eager to see her again."


    Scratch thought a moment and turned around. "When you call her ''amazon'', how do you come by that word?"


    "Uhm, she has the bearings of a warrior, so-"


    "No. How did you learn of it? What are its origins?"


    For the first time You There lost composure and seemed confused. "That- Words do not have origins! They have been with us since the creation of the world."


    "Is that so?"


    "Yes!"


    "Fine."


    <hr>


    Lydia Darkness stood alone in the darkness of the forge cave.


    Where she was the orange light of the ovens barely reached her, and she had conjured a small ball of light to aid her.


    These spells were less burdensome here. In hindsight, that should have been a clue that the goblins had build a dungeon.


    She was still angry. Not at Scratch or the dungeon, but at herself. She couldn''t go anywhere, do anything, without being confronted by her own inadequacies.


    She stood in the dark for a long time, letting the light of her spell gradually fade away, until Scratch and the demon came across her on the way to the dungeon.


    "Lydia." Scratch ran up to her, but she turned her back to him.


    He made a "women! am I right?" expression towards his familiar and walked around her. "Are you going to mope? Is that what we''re doing?"


    "I am not moping. We''re going back to the surface. And keep that thing away from me."


    "That thing is me," the demon grabbed her hand at brought it to his face, "we haven''t been properly acquainted. My name is You There, you must be Lydia."


    She didn''t withdraw her hand as he was about to kiss it, but stared mesmerized at his covered face.


    It was Scratch that grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him away. "I called him ''You There'' so I can go ''You there, get me a drink'' but I''m already regretting it. It''s a stupid name. You can come up with something."


    Her eyes shot fire, she was more angry than he expected. With long paces she stepped on ahead.


    The demon lowered his chin on Scratch''s shoulder. "How cold! And a new name already?" He reached down and tried to put his hand under Scratch''s tunic.


    "What are you doing? Stop that." Scratch fidgeted the demon''s hand away. It didn''t cost much strength, as soon as the words were spoken the demon pulled his manipulators against his chest.


    "You''re spending your precious energy on such petty commands." You There chuckled. "Do you even want me to lend you my power?"


    A few moments later they stepped on the elevator platform, with such a light load it shot up at dangerous speed as the counterweight pulled the other side down. Only the demon was perturbed by the lethal velocity at which they propelled into the air. "Wah!" He exclaimed. "Stop this thing!"


    As he clutched the floor Harkness stared at the walls being constructed around the lower cavern. When Scratch took place next to her she spoke to him. "Scratch. This demon, is your familiar, isn''t he?"


    "Yes." Scratch took special note to see if the chasm with the gorilla-esque monsters had been closed up. It had.


    "Can you control it?"


    He looked over his shoulder at You There. He stood an all fours arching his back like a cat in his effort to hold on. "Seems like."


    "We can''t be there to save you if you can''t. Demons- I know this is meaningless to you, but demons are evil."


    The air made a whistling noise as they flew higher and higher. Scratch grabbed Harkness'' hand. "It''s not meaningless.


    Don''t say that, don''t say we can''t communicate and understand each other, because we can. Lydia. I am evil. By the metric of anyone that cares to have one, I am evil. You get that don''t you?"


    "Don''t say that. We have to make tough decisions, but-"


    "No. I''ve killed, raped and pillaged. And I will continue to kill, possibly rape and pillage too. Nobody out there is spinning a narrative that defends our right to exist, nevermind thrive. Everything we do is already evil."


    She clenched her teeth. "I can''t accept that. Even we can have standards."


    He shrugged and looked her straight in the eyes with a disarmed expression.


    She let go of his hand and rubbed her eyes. "If we come to blows-"


    "We don''t have to."


    "Let me finish for once. If come to blows. If you or your demon commits sins that I cannot abide. Even if I lose everything. I will stop you."


    "That''s more than fair. Judge my sins Lydia, and if I hurt you, hate me, it''s only natural. But please- please do it yourself. If you let anyone decide for you that you should hate me I- Well I don''t have anything to threaten you with.


    But I would be disappointed, you know? And the kids-"


    "The kids."


    "Don''t ever hate the kids. Even if it ever happens that you have to kill them, don''t hate them. I don''t think that''s proper. You should be able to kill without hating."


    The pulley screeched, they slowed down just in time not to splatter against the cave ceiling, but they did fly into the air a bit.


    Harkness sighed deeply. "We have build a home. We''re raising children together. We''re on the same team. Still."


    "Still what?"


    "On the same team still. That hasn''t changed."


    "Good. Let''s both try to keep it that way."


    After exiting the elevator they climbed into the wolves'' den. It was emptier than it had been before. Only Wendy, the wind wolf, was there. When they went up she followed after them.


    "Ugh." The demon crawled behind even the wolf, disorientated by the machine. "If his goal is to to win her over to his side, his chosen strategy is dubious."


    -


    In the foyer, Stanford and Huckabee were standing. Hunched over, due to the low ceiling, and bickering between each other.


    Some goblins had planted themselves alongside them, but were now distracting themselves with reading material and finger games all over the room.


    "Boss!" Huckabee interrupted the argument. "You just disappeared. I heard about the army, is it true?"


    "We don''t know if it''s true." Harkness stated. "We''re taking precautions."


    "Who''s that?" Stanford asked curtly, staring at You There in suspicion.


    "This is... I''m not getting tied up in all this. This is a demon Scratch has summoned."


    "Why is he wearing a school uniform?" Huckabee asked sheepishly.


    You There did not let them decide the thread of conversation and began an unprompted speech. "A servant of higher powers, I recognize you immediately. Despair mortal! Your way has been abandoned, your master has chosen the path of darkness, and darkness shall rule the land! Mwuhahah! "


    Stanford kept a stony face. "Yeees. Nice to meet you. Boss, can I speak to you for a moment? Alone." He hissed through his teeth.


    "You can speak openly."


    "No."


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Scratch clapped his hands. "Everybody. Let''s get some fresh air. You too Huck." And they left the bandit leader and her healer inside.


    Once outside Scratch snapped his fingers in You There''s face. "What did we just talk about?"


    "Huh? Don''t remember."


    Wendy pushed her head against Scratch''s back to get his attention. "Dungeon master. Cease your business and hear my words. My pack mates have alerted me of intruders on the turf near the river, where three of your biped dens are planted in the path of the water. These are no scavengers, these are riders and marchers, carrying steel."


    Scratch didn''t have a barking horn on his person, so he answered back in regular speech. "How do you know this?"


    The wind wolf had developed somewhat of an ear for some human words, but not much. "We know it for certain. Not half a day as the crow flies are they away, eating at our territory."


    Huckabee looked back and forth between the two of them. "Can you really read the minds of animals?"


    Scratch looked befuddled at him. "What? What are you talking about? Never mind, I don''t have time for this. Fellows!"


    He whistled on his fingers to alert the other goblins. "I need four boys that are good with dogs, we''re taking the secret weapon for a field test."


    "The secret weapon? What''s that?" You There asked mischievously.


    "Shut up."


    "Should I tell the boss?" Huckabee asked.


    "Horses are too slow, but you can tell her we left."


    <hr>


    While Benjamin went to gather some capable riders Scratch rummaged through some sacks and crates to find more blue grass.


    You disobedied my advice. Cyclophan told him once he got the smoke started.


    "Yeah, sorry." Scratch said insincerely. He was too agitated to keep his voice internal and had pulled himself apart alongside You There.


    "Ah, master. You must be communing with the god of deception. Do offer my greetings, I am pleased to serve under him."


    "Shut up."


    I don''t know much about this demon, but I can see that it is intelligent. And I hate intelligent demons, they have their own agenda.


    "We all have your own agenda. I can work with that." Scratch responded.


    You There gave a small "Hhm?" But then threw up his hands. "Oh that was for the evil god, excuse me."


    "What we need is firepower," Scratch continued, ignoring him, "we''re up against an army now. The wolves have confirmed it."


    The fort hasn''t been established yet. The troops marching across the river must be a scouting force.


    "So... manageable?"


    They''re still knights. You''ve encountered trolls in the deep caverns, they are of comparable power to them but smarter and better equipped.


    "Trolls?"


    The demon responded to this unexpected term. "What twists and turns this conversation is taking. My curiosity is piqued! Lend me an ear." He pushed his own ear against the side of the goblin''s head as if to listen to noises within the skull.


    Scratch pushed him off. "Stop. What''s wrong with you?"


    "Give me attention."


    "Just... just stay there and shut up."


    Are you done?


    Yes.


    Trolls are a variation of subhumans. Your kind. I was just preparing a magic to allow you to turn humans into hobgoblins, using it on knights would make them ogres or trolls instead.


    You mean evolution.


    It''s more involved than that. My power of evolution can not turn creatures into different families, remember how I wasn''t able to turn ducks into cockatrices for you? A human can evolve, but only into something like an elf or a witch. Or an oni. The devil altar should allow you to enact a special ritual to hex an infant and turn it completely subhuman.


    Only infants, huh?


    The blessing of the main gods is still an obstacle. Whether for transformation or evolution, your victim must be stolen from the crib before it has been baptized.


    Scratch violently shook his head. "What''s all this? We''re getting off-topic." What DO you know about the demon?


    I know that he''s most likely smarter than you, and that worries me.


    But did he lie about wanting to serve?


    No. But the smart ones can deceive without lieing. He knows of me, and my ability to detect lies.


    What about the letter. Who''s it from?


    Half a year ago our dungeon was almost claimed by a dark sorcerer. I wouldn''t be surprised if this is a similar type. Another dungeon master.


    Scratch sighed. I figured that much.


    Your team is gathered, let me give you some advice. Pursue the enemy. If you let any of them live and retreat they''ll be more prepared and stronger next time.


    What are you talking about?


    This is a scouting party. Not a raiding party. These humans don''t want to raid, they want to lay siege. Do you understand? If it ever comes to that, we will lose. If they manage to scout the forest, know the lay of the land and the holdings of their enemies, they will be doing battle on a level you cannot match. Actual war. Letting them get away with information about you is funest.


    Scratch stood silent for a moment, the cigarette burning up in his hand. That might be the smartest thing I''ve ever heard you say.


    Cyclophan was a bit surprised and flattered. Really?


    Yes. I can''t believe I didn''t connect the dots until now. This isn''t a rival we''re dealing with, it''s the authories! You don''t push to break them open, their resources are limitless next to yours. You have to obscure yourself and your activities. You don''t give them any handhold to beat you with.


    I don''t understand...


    I''m just relating what you said to my own frame of reference. Don''t worry about it. I''ll follow your advice this time.


    Scratch put out the cigarette and dragged You There by the shoulder to the outside of the perimeter, where the wolves stood ready.


    <hr>


    The wolves had gathered outside the walls of the promise.


    It was less cramped than the underground den, and they were currently agitated.


    Wendy, as she was known under the goblins, barked at them with authority. "Six of us will confront the enemy, and we will show them the sorcerous forces we possess."


    "What sorcery?" One of the newer members barked back.


    "That will be apparent soon enough."


    The task force was to ride on the backs of the wolves. As passengers more than drivers.


    The wind wolf took Pentajo, who had been part of the wolf pack for a long time, and she directed her subordinates to pick the goblins.


    Scratch, Fyro, Mac and Benjamin understood the routine and lifted themselves upon the wolf backs when the beasts allowed them to.


    You There hesitated. "Master. I lay myself down in service of your evil intentions. But to propel myself at such speed above the hardened forest floor... Demons are dungeon creatures...."


    "Can you keep up with us on foot?"


    "No, sir."


    "The hop on."


    The demon gave a submissive nod and mounted the impatient warg wolf.


    "Are we taking weapons?" Fyro asked.


    "The goblins are just here for escort." Scratch explained. "We''ll be carrying these bucklers and spears for self-defense. But the schoolboy is our soldier."


    They all looked at the demon. "Do you want a spear?" Mac asked.


    The demon gave a smug smile and shook his head. "That''s quite alright."


    "Then we''ll be off." Scratch stated authoritatively. He accepted a shoulder bag with goodies from Quiet, who had come out to see them off. "Thank you Quiet. We won''t be home for dinner."


    The wolves sped off, surprising their riders with the sudden springiness of their step and making them hold on tight.


    The wind wolf ran ahead of them with great speed. Ever step she took a gust of wind propelled her forth.


    She had to regularly stop and wait for the others to catch up.


    -


    The destination of the party was the farthest out colony alongside the river. A relatively new one led by a bandit woman called Lora.


    They weren''t full producers yet and still relied on the charity of the main camp to establish themselves. Their defenses probably were similarly underdeveloped.


    On wolf back it took barely any time, but they had to stop to eat along the way and the sun had set once the place came into view.


    On a bed of dry clay next to the river stood a couple dozen sleeping huts.


    They were simple structures of wood, grass, and human-made cloth. Each just enough for two goblins or one human to lie down in.


    Other facilities were build in a wide circle around the fireplace, sitting places with woodcarving, fish-cleaning, or cooking utensils.


    An artificial brook was dug out trough the clay for river water to flow into and fish to get trapped in.


    "It''s here. We''re at the fishery."


    The residents crawled out cautiously at seeing the bright reflective eyes of Scratch''s team appear from the forest.


    "At ease!" He called out, seeing the goblins ready their weapons and his own wolf bracing for battle. He jumped down.


    "Where''s your mother?"


    -


    "Papa Scratch!"


    Robert was a nephew of his, one of Barbara''s spawn. But his generation had taken over the way to address him from the hobgoblins.


    He was the liaison from the promise keeping this tribe connected.


    The two hugged. "Did you bring anything?"


    "Hi there Bobby, no presents this time, is Lora awake?"


    He nodded. "She''s working hard hard hard on more goblins."


    "Oh, like, right now? Is she-"


    "Carrying babies inside."


    "Ah, that''s what you meant."


    The brood mother of the fishing colony was delayed due to the tolls of pregnancy, not by a current effort to conceive. And she came out to meet the riding squad after a few minutes.


    "What''s-" She grabbed her kicking stomach. "What''s the matter at this hour?"


    "We''re strengthening the defense. Invaders are coming."


    "Adventurers? We''ve beaten adventurers before, with enough slings-"


    "I''m afraid this might be the army."


    "...no." She grabbed her head and sunk to the ground. A small army of goblins came to her aid to put her down gently.


    "Nonono. This can''t be. Do you have any idea what I''ve gone through to be part of your little society?"


    "I do have a clear picture."


    "And now we''re just going to die for it?"


    "Of course not. You There, come here."


    The demon had been torturing a dying bug on the ground. He looked up from his game and joined Scatch''s side.


    "How about you introduce yourself. Nicely."


    You There bowed and kissed her hand. "Rest assured my lady. Your humble abode will be defended by the stolen power of Eriad."


    "Listen to that. A proper fantasy name." Scratch proclaimed. "You''ve got nothing to worry about. Now let''s get this placed cleaned up for the guests."


    <hr>


    Cleaning up the place meant evacuating the vulnerable denizens, hiding fragile and valuable possessions, and setting a proper ambush for the enemy.


    The wolves smelled the enemy on the air before they came into sight. "Be alert!" Wendy barked towards her pack mates. "Man-things have come to gauge our strength."


    Hearing that Scratch clapped his hands and the goblins reacted by taking in their positions.


    "What''s Eriad?" Mac asked Scratch.


    "I don''t know, but it dwarves the powers of all other demons. There are kingdom crushing godzillas in the abyss whose power didn''t even compare. So it must be enough to crush a scouting team."


    "And then the fortress. Right?" Mac skipped right past the words he didn''t understand. It was par of the course for Scratch to sometimes devolve into incoherent babbling.


    "Change of plan there. We can''t blitz the enemy and destroy them, because the enemy is an entire nation. Instead, we''ll stay to our forest, turtle up. Make fighting us not worth the trouble."


    "Can we do that?"


    "Remember how we don''t kill adventurers if we don''t have to?"


    "We don''t punch up."


    "Exactly. We''re going to cash in on that reputation. We''ll send them a message about mutual coexistence. Once they do the math, they''ll realize there''s nothing to gain here."


    They were shushed by a wolf as the knights approached the village.


    -


    "HALT." An older man riding a horse held up his hand to stop the footsoldiers behind him. There were roughly eight of them, all lightly armored with weapons at the ready.


    In their midst two donkeys carried rolls of tents and sleeping backs, as well as provisions.


    Their superior jumped down from his horse like an acrobat. "Take a look Rocksteader, what do you see?"


    One of the knights stepped forward, his back was held straight and stiff. "An abandoned camp, sir. Could be goblin made."


    As he spoke wolf riders took position behind them. They formed a line to block off the enemies'' line of retreat.


    "Disappointing as usual, rookie. First thing you should know. Goblins can''t build their own camps. They infest the buildings of others, like rats."


    Hidden in the bushes arrows were knocked, ropes were gripped, and shields were raised. The noise almost blended in with the leaves rustling in the wind, almost.


    "Secondly. This place isn''t abandoned at all. Shields up everybody, it''s an ambush!"


    Rocks and bolts shot at them from all directions as the goblins let loose. Normally fighting off such a barrage was supposed to overwhelm and make them unprepared for following manoeuvres, but the knights seemed hardly bothered. They weaved and deflected a bit and kept their footing.


    The wolves in the back charged forward and drove the knights into each other with theirs spears. But the spears quickly shattered from the knights'' weapons.


    Despite the enemies'' seemingly superior strength and skill they were bunched up exactly where the goblins wanted them to be.


    A net was pulled up from beneath the leaves and loose earth by counterweights and pulled tight by two dozen goblins around the footsoldiers and their donkeys.


    -


    Only their leader stood free. "They knew we were coming." He remarked calmly. "Free yourself boys. This is all they have."


    Even now the projectiles and long range stabbing didn''t seem to do much to the humans, and they were in the process of hacking their prison apart.


    "I wouldn''t be so certain!" Scratch announced theatrically, as he appeared in full view in front of the knights, with You There by his side.


    "What''s this supposed to be?" The knight''s leader pulled his sword and adopted a fighting stance.


    "Captain Harkness!" The knight known as Rocksteader called out from the back. "It must be a demon!"


    "Harkness?" For a moment the goblin thought the presence of the bandit leader had been announced.


    "Let''s put an end to this." Captain Harkness announced. "We''ll inform the fortress about dark sorcery when we get back."


    "Not if we have anything to say about it." Scratch stretched out his hand. "Die."


    You There matched his movements. "Yeah!"


    The captain cringed away in fear, but nothing happened.


    "What are you waiting for!?" Scratch yelled at the demon. "Obliterate them!"


    "Obliterate them? What manner of demon do you suppose I am? I have no such ability."


    "What? What are you talking about?"


    "My goodness. If I had known that''s what you thought ''lending power'' meant I would have said something, I promise. If only you''d told me what your plan was."


    "What else would it mean? You... you!"


    The captain approached with a sword. Behind him the other knights were as good as free.


    You There laughed. "Haha. What a unfortunate understanding! It suppose we''ll be destroyed now. I''ll ask my next summoner whether she knows what an Incubus is."


    Scratch grabbed him by the collar. "Do you have any idea how much credibility I sacrificed to get you?"


    "Oy!" The knight heaved his sword up high. "Don''t ignore me while I''m killing you!"


    Before he could cleave the goblin''s skull in two his leg was pulled out from under him by the powerful bite of a wolf.


    Wendy had circled around the brawl in the time it would take a gust of wind to do so and sunk her teeth into the unguarded part of the knight''s leg.


    He screamed in rage and hacked at her, but as fast as she had come she was gone again. She was now between him and the two targets and tried to bite him again.


    "Protect the dungeon master!" She barked at her pack mates, who abandoned the clash with the footsoldiers to come to her defense.


    "Enough of this!" The captain shouted, he put his hands in front of his chest and pushed them outward. "Rhada''s Fury!"


    A ring of fire bloomed around him and scorched the three enemies.


    They grunted in pain and tried to retreat. Wendy staying between the two others and the captain.


    "Gloves off boys!" The human shouted. "Torch the place!"


    As soon as he said it the knights stopped clashing with swords and started chanting mnemonics, all of which had the name ''Rhada'' in it and all of which resulted in them creating fiery destruction out of nothing.


    The goblin forces were completely overwhelmed. Half of them died within less than a second.


    The others stayed on the offensive, until Scratch screamed to retreat, his voice hoarse from the pain.


    "Forget the horde. Get those two!" Captain Harkness commanded, as he sheathed his sword. He brought his hands together to create some sort of fireball.


    "Shield me." Scratch commanded, and made You There stand in front of them with his arms spread.


    "Hmm, so cruel~" The demon purred sensually.


    However, before the man could finish his attack a deafeningly loud gallop sounded behind them.


    A horse rider stopped just above Scratch and jumped off acrobatically in front of You There.


    "You!" The captain bellowed. He released the fireball and it shot forward like an arrow, but the opposing human stretched out her hands and held it together like he just had. It was Lydia Harkness.


    "You used to scold me. For wasting mana on oversized attacks." She grunted. Then she pushed it back, it flew right past the captain and all the footsoldiers and exploded just between the two donkeys they''d brought along. "Father."


    Then she dropped to one knee.


    -


    There hung a silence in the air. The footsoldiers had stopped advancing just behind their captain, who was glaring hatefully and the bandit leader.


    The goblins and wolves were sinking away slowly into the darkness of the nighttime woods.


    You There came to Lydia to touch her forearm in a presumptuous gesture of affection. "Lady Harkness... your chivalry is the stuff of songs, I-"


    She pushed him away with one hand and stood up.


    "So it''s true." Captain Harkness commented, he looked disgusted between her and the demon. "I should have killed you when I had the chance."


    She put her hands on her throwing knives. "We''re leaving." The goblins were scrambling onto their wolves and hiding away now.


    "You stand your ground and fight young lady." He demanded.


    She jumped onto her horse and spurred it on, making it whinny in protest. She sped off.


    The knights fired off arrows and spells, all aimed at her, but she made it out of the chaos.


    -


    After a few minutes of fleeing she and Scratch met up.


    Scratch and You There shared a spot on Wendy, who was slowed down a bit by the double load.


    "Why did you go off without me?" She asked.


    "Miscalculation." He admitted. "We overestimated the demon."


    "You mean you did." She insisted. "You left just as Stanford was teaching me about Incubi. I had to hurry to catch up to you as quickly as possible."


    You There hugged Scratch from behind and rubbed his hands over him. "That man, was he your daddy?"


    Scratch was to busy holding on to the wolf to fight him off. "Can we do anything to shake them off our tail?" He asked her.


    "Nobody trained in the royal academy would pursue into unknown territory without a baggage train." She assured him.


    "They''ll be going back." They both ignored You There''s question.


    "I mention because, you see, you referred to him as your father. Now that makes me think-"


    "So what does an incubus do?" Scratch asked, his question explicitly directed towards the human.


    "They''re seducers." She said. "They exist to tempt women into accepting their gift of power."


    "We''re not so picky." You There added, breathing into Scratch''s neck.


    "I''ll explain later. Just think of them as reverse succubi." She explained. "They grant what succubi have stolen. It''s technically endless, but there are complications. I don''t think he''s of much use to us.


    "So to review:" he complained, "the secret weapon is useless, the enemy has a personal grudge, and the scouting mission returns with information about our territory. Meaning we''ll definitely end up having to defend in a land war."


    "Oh master, you''re in luck!" You There jubilated. "Field battles are the art of deception made manifest. You are sure to demonstrate your skills!"


    "I''m going to throw you off." Scratch fumed.


    <hr>


    Succubi


    Family: Demons


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 2 silver pieces


    Succubi are demons of seduction. They are summoned by dark sorcerers into dungeons of temptation, and take on the form of male adventurers'' ideal women. Though they seem human, they can be recognized by their lascivious behavior and weakness to light magic.


    Succubi possess the Drain ability. By seducing and having sex with a man they can drain him of his power. An adventurer that has fallen for this trick will lose the strength and abilities he has gained over his adventures. This makes the succubus a monster that is highly feared among members of the adventurers'' guild, even compared to monsters of higher threat levels and lethality.


    In order to combat succubi, avoid being overly trusting of strangers met in dungeons, and include female adventurers into your party before setting out.

 Projecting Power

    "I do offer unlimited power, master." You There insisted. "My seed soaks into the very core of my partners, imbuing them with the stolen power of Eriad."


    Scratch was pacing up and down the cavern floor. The bandits and goblins had convened in front of the steel forge in order to discuss their course of action.


    The bandits were able to stand calmly still, but the goblins were fidgety and energetic. The demon stood in the middle as the center of attention.


    "The women of this community have agreed to lay with goblins for material gain." Aimone spat. "Surely, an incubus is a step up. Let them take the seed and fight for us."


    "Women or men. My powers do not discriminate." You There gleamed.


    "Oh. Uh..." Aimone looked uncomfortable, it seemed like he had second thoughts on the suggestion now that he was eligible.


    "Nobody is laying with an incubus." Stanford stated.


    Harkness gave him a questioning look, for his presumption of authority.


    "I won''t abide it." He answered her. "It''s a corruption."


    "Really?" Scratch grinned joylessly. "After everything, this is a bridge to far? A stick up your pooper has got to be the least indig-"


    "It''s a demon." Stanford roared. "The primal enemy! Do you think this is a game?"


    Scratch matched his energy. "Who''s your primal enemy? A year ago I would''ve been your primal enemy!"


    "Maybe you are..."


    Harkness gave a sharp and short whistle, reining them in. "We''re all on the same side."


    Scratch threw his hands up. "Regardless of believes, grudges, whatever. At the end of the day, everybody has to follow their self-interest, that''s what I think. Isn''t that right, You?"


    "Hhm? Oh no, the cleric is astute. My only agenda is evil."


    Scratch became angry. "What is your angle, antagonizing us?"


    The demon giggled girlishly. "Who''s your hero, Scratch?"


    "What?"


    "This is no use." Harkness cut the discussion short. "You can use the demon, but not on humans, and not on our family. That''s final."


    "And she''s back to giving orders." He muttered under his breath.


    -


    "Then there''s the the steel," she continued, gesturing broadly at the forge, "we can''t let it sit here while we''re under mortal threat."


    "What about Lacrima?" Huckabee asked.


    "She can''t threaten us with anything worse than the army would do."


    "Is it true that the captain is your father? Can''t we use that?"


    She gave a bitter expression. "No chance. There is no love between us."


    "Lacrima couldn''t have done us a greater service." Scratch stated. "She specifically ordered us to create armaments that we can equip our own goblins with. She has prepared us for a battle just like this."


    "That can''t be a coincidence, can it?" Gildo groaned.


    "No. She''s been planning to use us for her own purposes, but I don''t know what those are yet."


    "Let''s postpone these concerns." Harkness cut them short authoritatively. "For now the witch will have to accept us taking her army for a trial run."


    "We''ll turtle up." Scratch declared. "We''ll stock food in the promise and gather the population within these walls."


    "Absolutely not." She shot him down. "The promise will go out to defend the homes of the people. Barbara, tell them what you told me."


    "Oh! Uh..." The goblin brood mother straightened her back on being called upon. "The fort is almost complete, Mabel and the others know the location. They''re connected to the suppliers."


    "It''s to the southwest." Harkness continued for her. "In the middle of the plains. If we mobilize quickly enough we should be able to surprise them."


    "Oooh, the relentless throng," the demon purred, "a classic goblin strategy. It has always been a dream of mine to see it up close."


    "Well not of mine." Scratch protested. "We can''t destroy a state power, our strategy should be to force a standstill. Besides, goblins can''t march in these temperatures."


    "Scratch, I want you to focus on managing this dungeon." Harkness commanded. "I''ll take charge of the war."


    "Zounds!" You There said mockingly. "That must be the lost credibility you were referring to!"


    "Is he not going to be part of the charge?" Huckabee asked.


    "We need him to lead the troops." She added. "We''ll call on you when it''s time to head out."


    Scratch balled his fists but said nothing. Impotent protest would only further drop his social power amongst the humans.


    "So," Aimone summarized, "we have demon magic, steel, and the element of surprise. Is that enough?"


    Harkness sighed. "We''ll have to find out."


    "Mannaggia..."


    <hr>


    Rather than compete for dominance, Scratch saw the wisdom in maintaining unity. So he ceded to Harkness and followed her plans.


    While equipment was being moved upstairs and messengers were send out to unite the tribes, he and You There were in the deepest depths performing experiments.


    "This is Guinea." Scratch introduced the young goblin taken from a vassal tribe. "Say hello."


    "E-Ello..." Guinea stammered. He was a half-feral, loyal to the Promise but not as educated as many others.


    "You disappoint me master!" You There laughed mockingly. "I had hoped to taste your body today, but I''m fobbed off with an experiment."


    "Perhaps if you''d seemed less eager." Scratch croaked humorlessly.


    "Promise me you''ll take me to see the carnage of them battlefield, master. I must see it."


    Scratch ignored that last comment and threw his hand up for the others to begin.


    Guinea''s family members encouraged and comforted him. They spoke a crude creole of human and orc words and were hardly intelligible, but their meaning was clearly for him to ''take one for the team'' or something to that effect.


    They needed to earn the favor of the patriarch.


    The demon and the goblin took off their respective clothing. A, by now, dirty and torn schoolboy''s uniform, and a collection of pelt scraps tied around various parts of the body. The items were folded and placed next to each other.


    A thin blanket over the hard and cold stone was the stage for You There to show off his abilities. Both took their places facing each other like gladiators before a fight.


    The incubus took initiative. At first he draped himself in the goblin''s arms like a woman. When the goblin didn''t quite know what to do he took on the role of the man instead, pushing Guinea against the floor and starting his business.


    Scratch sat down on a rock and lit a bluegrass cigarette. It was a strangely perverse experience to lean back and observe the two in an act like this, he felt like a voyeur.


    -


    Cyclophan didn''t provide context for the magic at display, but veered straight into his own agenda.


    You failed today.


    Christ.


    I told you not to invoke other gods. And we really do need to talk, about your performance as my champion.


    Scratch summoned up a smug arrogance. Now I know that you can''t fire me. So don''t threaten me with that.


    Nevertheless I will call you out. You''ve failed me today.


    Ugh


    When I finally got a dungeon I wanted to announce myself to the world, cast the lands into darkness. But you convinced me stealth was the way to go.


    I remember that. Scratch held up the idle conversation as the two fornicators stopped moving. It seemed like You


    There was whispering something in Guinea''s ear, causing his face to grimace with fear.


    Why then are you acting out? Summoning demons you don''t know, openly talking about the shard. I thought you were going to mention my name to the humans.


    Before Scratch''s eyes Guinea began to groan unnaturally, his bones creaked as his limbs lengthened and his skin began to chance colour. Acting out... I wouldn''t say acting out. But I''ve been taking risks, that''s true.


    Why?


    Why? Guinea up-righted himself. He had changed, resembling a pale hobgoblin. The expression in his eyes seemed hollow. Because I''ve been humouring you too much. We''re growing too big. I''m trying learn from past mistakes.


    What does this have to do w-


    Shut up. Listen to this. Anyone can break rules, almost nobody can make them. In the past year we''ve destroyed two ways of life, those of goblins and those of bandits. That was the easy part.


    Guinea''s tribe mates rushed over to him in order to cheer. He barely responded, looking at the smaller beings as if they were curious splotches of colour on his retina.


    Creating the new ones is the hard part. We barely got rid of Fyro and now Lacrima is muscling in, not to mention Lydia pushing to get her way. Scratch leaned forward to focus on the transformed goblin while communing. If I''m going to be ''master'' of a dungeon I need to be in control of it.


    You There walked up to him to receive praise, he dragged the transformed Guinea with him by the elbow. "See here, master. The stolen power or Eriad is at your disposal."


    Scratch threw them their clothes. "You turned him into a hobgoblin..." he observed, scratching his chin.


    You There shrugged. "An surprising result, but in hindsight we should have expected it. When we incubi service humans, they attain the qualities of those of higher birth. And after all, what are hobgoblins other than goblins of higher birth? The bigger body is how their potential is expressed I would say."


    It seemed to Scratch like he was making it up on the spot. "And Guinea, how are you feeling?" He asked the other.


    "More powerful?"


    Guinea opened and closed his mouth. He stared into the distance with teary red eyes. His tribe mates began pulling on his arms trying to get him to react. He turned his head towards one and screamed, slapping him across the floor.


    "Friend! No!" The other goblins cried. They didn''t see the person they knew behind those wild pained eyes.


    Guinea proceeded to savagely attack anyone around him, forcing the goblins to defend themselves.


    "Oops!" You There laughed as Guinea began beating the goblins, and he stepped aside to let them fight.


    Scratch whistled on his fingers and idle and industrious goblins within hearing distance dropped what they were doing to jump on the mad hobgoblin.


    Guinea kept screaming while being piled under a growing heap of goblin bodies.


    You can control Lydia Harkness, that won''t be an issue. Cyclophan continued the conversation as Scratch sat staring at the violence.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    "Well how? I can''t evolve, I can''t cast magic, and apparently I can''t command any decent demons either. Meanwhile every other day the threats become bigger, with no end in sight!"


    I see. So you''re feeling insecure because of how weak you are, and this is what your tantrums look like.


    Scratch sank down and placed his head in his hands. There''s to talking with you.


    Fix it, Scratch. Survival comes before control.


    -


    Two dozen goblins and a heavy rock to the back of the head were required to subdue the rampaging beast.


    "Will he go back to normal?" Scratch asked the demon.


    You There looked back and forth between his face and the cigarette that let him commune with the lie detecting god.


    The hesitance told Scratch that he wouldn''t.


    Under the wailing of Guinea''s friends he had to be euthanized. A pin through the throat did the job quickly.


    The goblin crossed his arms. "How did I know you were playing me? Huh? Tell me the whole truth."


    You There drooped his shoulders, in no way recognizing the gravity of the situation. "My goodness, is this experiment unfavorable to me. I give you my vow that it''s supposed to be a subtle progression!"


    Scratch breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, the other goblins became quiet and still. The demon suppressed a slight giggle at the heavy atmosphere.


    "A subtle progression..." the goblin growled, "into... what?"


    You There put up his two index fingers. "Before that, let me assure you that I wasn''t planning to have you find out until it was too late."


    Scratch''s expression didn''t change. He kept up his threatening and expecting look.


    Since the joke didn''t land the demon became more serious. "No being can truly perform beyond its potential, you must have understood that by now. Haha. I mean, that is what a potential is, the divinity of their existence, their weight in the fabric of reality."


    Scratch didn''t answer.


    You There smiled guiltily. "So the stolen power adds to their divinity. A graft of dark demonic divinity sitting on top of their soul. If the darkness becomes larger than the original soul, well... you can see the result. The old guinea is gone."


    "You can''t fight, but you assure me you can empower my people." Scratch stated in overly enunciated staccato.


    You There looked back and forth between Scratch and Guinea. "Oh no, this isn''t supposed to happen. I had not foreseen how small a goblin''s power is. Give me Lydia! She''s a knight, it would require an exponentially larger amount of my seed to destroy her mind."


    Scratch''s eyes shot fire.


    "Listen to me!" The demon insisted. "It''s supposed to be a slow corruption, addicting them to power until they lose their very selves. Do not judge me on one premature reification, rather, grant me a meatier subject."


    The goblin shook off the anger and made a wry smile. "How come that is still the only thing you care about?"


    You There gave a guilty laugh. "Incorrigible, me."


    With two fingers from Scratch the surrounding goblins piled on top of the demon and held him down.


    "You said something about your next summoner being better last time." Scratch remarked. "So I suppose you can''t die.


    But if we burn this body I don''t have to deal with you anymore, is that correct?"


    "No."


    Yes. Cyclophan corrected.


    "He killed your brother." Scratch explained to Guinea''s tribe mates. "You can do with him what you like, but there''s an industrial furnace nearby, that''s my recommendation."


    The goblins yelled loudly and angrily at his words and dragged You There away.


    "Hey, wait. WAIT." The incubus hissed as they tightened their grips. "Haha. You want your control back, you need a demon of temptation to do it."


    Scratch held up his hand to stop the crowd. "You can hear me talk with Cyclophan?"


    "There are 7 families of demons." He struggled uncomfortably against the goblins'' grip. "The -not so tight boys- The mimics you employ are beings of the darkness, I am a being of temptation. Manipulating the will of mortals is my primary skill."


    The goblin patriarch had the others bring the demon''s face close to his. "You didn''t answer my question."


    "I have no need for any sort of magical intrusion upon your communion, master. To someone like me the strings connecting all are eminently visible."


    Scratch scoffed at You There''s attitude, a negotiation technique to seem more dominant. "You''re trying to buy your life and what you''ve got to offer is... what? You''ll tame Lydia for me?"


    "My life is of no value to me." The demon tried to come in closer but was held back. "What I want is to be part of your symphony, an instrument in your domination. If only you knew how much I have to offer. Give me a chance to prove it."


    Scratch narrowed his eyes at the incubus.


    You There softened his tone. "I can inspire such gratitude in you master, that you let me have her body any way I''d like."


    The other puffed on his cigarette. "Bizarrely," he said, "it doesn''t seem like you''re lying."


    <hr>


    "Is everybody partnered up!?" Scratch yelled out over the gathered troops.


    Before him were collected close to two hundred goblins from the surrounding colonies. Most of them were younglings from bandit matriarchs.


    They had gathered near the tree home as a central location, the family was explaining the war effort to them. Each of the leading family was seated on a wolf while talking to a manageable portion of the many dozen children.


    "The boy you''re holding hands with is your partner." He told the pairs close enough to hear him. "You''ll be marching for a few days, always marching with your partner. If you can''t find your partner, come find one of us! Any questions?"


    One of them raised an arm as he had been taught. "Why not take weapons?"


    "You are taking weapons. Every one of you has a pack with supplies, it comes with a sling and a bow. You''re not carrying spears and shields because we don''t want to make you brawl with humans, your job is to stay back and fire ranged attacks, is that clear?"


    The goblin nodded slightly not to seem defiant. He didn''t really understand the reasoning, but was now at least confident that there was one. His neighbour elbowed him for dragging out the lesson and he elbowed back, they entered a covert tussle of back and forth jabs without exposing it to the boss.


    "That''s fine then." Scratch concluded. "We''re leaving as soon as you hear the horn."


    -


    After the briefing he went to visit Lydia Harkness among the armored goblins. Her speech wasn''t over yet.


    "Individual strength doesn''t matter," she was saying, "what matters is that you hold the line."


    Barbara''s sons before her nodded. They looked like snowmen in the matte steel harnesses produced by the Promise. The outfits were collections of rounded shapes over their heads, torsos and joints.


    "There will be adults there to have your back." She continued. "You are never alone against the enemy, understand?"


    "Yeah." "Uh-hm." Some tepid confirmations sounded from the crowd.


    "Now take them off. We only armor up before the battle." She concluded.


    -


    "Is this really the best way?" Scratch asked her while the others were packing up their armor.


    "This is how war is waged." She stated. She put her hand on Wendy''s head, Scratch had to calm the wolf not to make her bite her. "The cavalry goes ahead to set up camps, the baggage train is guarded by the light infantry, and the heavy infantry marches in front of them to set the pace. Normally the cavalry are the horseback riders, but your dogs are faster. So we''ll stay with the infantry."


    "I still wish you wouldn''t involve our kids." He sighed.


    "I know." She touched his cheek. "That''s also why I don''t believe you when you tell me you''re evil. But we can''t protect them forever, they need the experience."


    "They''re only a few months old." Scratch half-joked.


    "I wish you would get rid of that demon." She responded. "Didn''t you tell me his power was of no use?"


    "He swears he can make himself useful." Scratch scratched the back of his head. "I want to believe him. Maybe it''s wishful thinking."


    "As long as he doesn''t cause any trouble."


    "I''m not letting him leave my side, he-" Scratch looked around. "Where is that twerp?"


    -


    They found him chatting up Brittany in the underground living space.


    The base was more sophisticated now than it had ever been. The floor was tiled, hanging curtains divided it up into rooms with privacy, and elevated bowls of fire illuminated the place, casting colored shadows through the curtain fabrics everywhere.


    Brittany was not a volunteer from among the bandits, but a captured adventurer. She did not enjoy the trust of the family, and neither did You There.


    They were castigated and the demon was tied up.


    <hr>


    That very same day the goblin army started its march. It was just after sunset, so they had the whole night to travel in cooler temperatures.


    As the former knight instructed, the foot soldier marched around a baggage train, two dozen horses pulling sled of weapons, shields, tents, food, and tankards of water.


    Their society wasn''t advanced enough to give everybody their own waterskin, so they carried cups that they could fill at the tankard.


    For the first few miles the wolf riders kept pace with the pedestrians. Scratch had introduced a marching song.


    "Gory gory, what a horrible way to die!


    Gory gory, what a horrible way to die!


    Gory gory what a horrible way to die.


    He ain''t gonna fly no more!"


    The goblins didn''t know what it meant, but singing it was a good distraction for their chaotic minds, and it gave a sense of unified will.


    -


    Under the noise of the singing Lydia Harkness had to wave at the wolf riders running in all directions around them to get one''s attention.


    It was Benjamin that noticed her and managed to convince his wolf to approach her.


    The horses Harkness and her children were riding were much larger than the warg wolves, and Benjamin had to stretch himself upwards as much as possible to address her.


    "Could you get your brother for me?" She asked.


    "Which one?" He responded slowly.


    "Get Scratch. Tell him to come to me before you go ahead."


    "Hmm." It was the least enthusiastic confirmation in history, but it seemed like Benjamin agreed to it.


    "Why can''t we go ahead too?" Felix complained as he left.


    "Dogs can''t carry the likes of us." Harkness stated.


    "That''s lame." He responded.


    "So you would rather be small?" Ada laughed.


    "N-no. I didn''t say that! When did I say that?"


    "You idiot. It''s a ra-torical question."


    "Rhe-torical." Scratch had joined the group and corrected her.


    "Ugh." She responded with annoyance.


    "It''s almost time for you to leave." Harkness told Scratch. "Do you remember everything I told you."


    "It''s not rocket science," he said, "find a large open spot, about fifty miles ahead, get a fire started, and prepare the ground for tents."


    "And have you collected the necessary equipment yet?"


    "Uhm." It had slipped his mind. "We''ll grab it right now."


    "Remember to keep going south." She pointed at the night''s sky. "Those three stars in a line always point west, use them as your guide."


    "I will. You lot can look forward to eating by a bonfire when you arrive."


    "And catch something while you''re waiting for us too." Ada demanded as he sped off. "I want fresh meat. Fresh!"


    <hr>


    The lands to the south were an open plain. No trees obscured view of the horizon, but changing elevations, gullies, hills, and ridges, broke up the land and created diverging pathways.


    The wolves fanned out, as was their way, only just close enough to see and smell each other. Their riders were just along for the ride.


    It was a wistful, lonely feeling for the goblins. Each on their own wolf they were isolated, having no stimuli around them other than the cool breeze and the starry sky. Many of them would have had the wolves turn back if they had the power to do so, but they had to wait for the temporary meetings along the way to give their input.


    You There was tied and gagged, secured fastly to the back of a strong young wolf. But he squeezed his eyes shut in fear whenever the beast took to sprinting.


    -


    It was still deep into the night when they found a suitable spot to set up camp. An elevated plateau over the rest of the grassland.


    Scratch made it clear that it was the selected spot by jumping off the wolf. "Unload everybody! We have our camp!"


    Mac and Fyro repeated his words for others to hear, since they were so spread out.


    "Unbelievable." Scratch said to Benjamin when his wolf brought him to him. "You can sleep anywhere."


    "Hhm, what?" Benjamin rubbed his face in the annoyed wolves'' mane and woke up.


    "Here, you start the fire." Scratch threw him the sticks. "I''ll unpack the livestock."


    "Should''ve killed him." Second muttered behind his back.


    -


    By himself Scratch untied You There and let him fall to the ground. He rubbed the wolf behind the ear and crudely made clear, using wolf-like grunts and gestures, that there would be food unpacked where Wendy was.


    "Are we going to have any more problems?" He asked the demon.


    "Master! You know I would never offer up my power to your enemies, I was merely gathering information."


    "I know that. But there''s the question of image. You told me you were a master manipulator, mistakes like that are not allowed."


    You There stood up and brushed himself off. "Expert consideration. I must commend you on your vision." His schoolboy clothing had become mixed with the attire of colony goblins at some point, he was wearing hides wrapped around his soles instead of shoes, and teeth and feather jewelry around his neck. The jacket of the original outfit had been abandoned somewhere.


    "You keep trying to flatter me, and it keeps lowering my assessment of you." Scratch grunted.


    "Yet you took me along, away from the ''adults''." You There grinned. "Because you wanted to hear what I have to offer, without them hearing."


    "You might not be here when they arrive." Scratch turned his back to him and led the way to where the fire was supposed to start. "So start talking."


    "With pleasure." You There hobbled after him.


    -


    Next to the smoke signal the goblins huddled around the demon, who lectured to them on manipulation.


    "I have familiarized myself with the fine points of your methods." He proclaimed. "You are familiar with the very basics of breaking minds. The use of discomfort."


    "When a woman has no allies," Scratch responded, "she can be humiliated. That is not the case here. I can''t withhold any of our humans their dignity unless they obey, if anything it''s the other way around."


    "But do you understand why dignity is such a strong motivator?" You There asked.


    "Why? It''s a survival instinct, isn''t it? We all strive to gain dignity, that''s why we require food, housing, expensive goods, for status." Scratch spoke why it was the most natural thing in the world. "People act out of self interest."


    "Not at all." You There disagreed. "Mortal beings act out of pride. In everything, they strive to embody a chosen ideal, to mimic a hero."


    "That''s bull." Scratch scoffed.


    "You may not see it, but that is the essential truth. Even you strive to be a special person, don''t you?"


    Scratch looked to the others for confirmation. "I strive to be myself. That''s what I tell everyone to do."


    The others nodded.


    "But that in itself is an ideal. An elevated person, not fooled by the delusions and hang-ups of the masses, a superman, does that sound familiar? There have been others like you throughout our history." You There stated. "I do see that I have caused discomfort, so I will return to our original focus, Lydia Harkness."


    "What do you want to do to her?" Mac gasped.


    "Just to get her with the program." Scratch said curtly to silence him.


    "Each realm of this world celebrates a different breed of hero," You There explained, "accomplishments of the past guide the ideas of the future you see. In Reddington, all people of note have been protectors of the common people.


    Our girlfriend Lydia aligns herself to those heroes of the past."


    "And that''s how you explain irrational behavior." Scratch concluded for him.


    "That is how I explain mortal lives."


    "And where does this turn actionable?" Scratch pressed.


    "I''ll tell you. It''s not dignity that needs to be broken, it''s pride."


    "Pride?"


    "Human beings will flow into any shape and form that will let them feel comfortable with themselves. Simply make her feel ashamed for who she is, and she will change to regain her pride."


    Scratch sighed. "Simply, huh? So you''re giving me the blindingly obvious, but no way to achieve it."


    "Obvious? Hah, if only. You mortals never understand the full meaning. In two days we will wage battle against enemy troops, you will see that encircling enemies to kill them is ill-advised. A wise warlord leaves an opening for soldiers to flee towards. For if there is no way out of their position, the troops will steel their nerves and fight valiantly to the death. Viola, the same is true for the war of idea."


    "What on earth are you yapping on about?" Scratch become a little angry.


    "The next time, master, that you shame our dear Lydia for following teachings that vilify you, give her an escape route."


    "An escape route? From the teachings?"


    "From the shame. A human being wants only to preserve his pride, if there is no way to do that other than to defend his position, that is what he will do, he will entrench himself in his belief stronger than ever before. But if you give him an excuse..."


    "An excuse for his belief? Somebody else to blame!"


    "Somebody or something, a misunderstanding even." The demon giggled. "When the human takes your escape route, he accepts your premise, and you''ve won an ally."


    "Hhm." Scratch thought about it. "It sounds like some sophistry for winning arguments. That can''t be enough to change personalities."


    You There shrugged. "It is just one tool in the arsenal of us temptation demons, it is only natural that differing subjects call for differing methods. Think of it like so: your method of deprivation imposes discomfort on the subject from outside, the method of shame has it come from within. These things very similar, but shame can not be fought with the threat of violence, it is the tool of the powerless."


    Scratch nodded, his head was swirling with ideas and he began to feel more in control just from You There''s suggestions.


    Mac opened and closed his mouth. Then he said "you''re a mean guy" to You There.


    "Thank you." The demon replied unironically.


    <hr>


    Siege Harness


    A siege harness is equipment used in large-scale warfare. None are available for use by adventurers.


    From the outside a siege harness resembles a giant in full plate armor. But no such being resides on the inside. A regular sized pilot takes up position in the chest, using magical means to move the entire body.


    Siege harnesses are used to break through enemy shield walls and storming forts. Their power and value rivals that of castles.


    If a siege harness lies unretrieved in the wild, that is because the area it has been lost to is extra-ordinarily perilous. Adventuring quests to retrieve such a machine tend to be rank B and higher.

 Contact with the Enemy

    The sun had begun to peek over the horizon when the foot soldiers came into view.


    They noticed the smoke and lost their patience, the light skirmishers overtaking the heavily packed front liners, leaving the baggage train by itself.


    The human and hobgoblin horseback riders followed the mass to the camp to meet the advance party.


    The wolves had already gone to sleep, Scratch and the others waited for them at the edge of the cleared space.


    "Hello again." Harkness said. "Any room for weary travelers?"


    "Our doors are open for strangers." Scratch gestured towards the fire as if he was leading her into a tavern.


    "Why are you talking like that?" Ada complained, "it''s peculiar."


    "My butt hurts," Jasper whined, "horseback riding is awful."


    Scratch smiled, "wolves aren''t much- hey!" He waved his arms about at the mass of goblins approaching. "Didn''t we tell you to march in pairs? Go find your war buddy!"


    Luckily nobody had gotten lost and everybody was able to find their partner. Two by two they dripped into the camp and sat down to relax.


    Jasper came to tug on Scratch''s long sleeve. "Is there any food?"


    "The food is with your uncles, wiseguy. You lot come storming up here for the party but the party is hanging back. So you gotta wait for the supplies to arrive."


    -


    The distance was only a few hundred meters so the baggage train arrived shortly.


    "Did they leave you behind?" Scratch laughed.


    "It hurt my feelings." Sota admitted when he put the heavy armor down.


    "Quiet and me are gonna start cooking." The patriarch said as he took a gulp from the water supply. "Go set up your tents, do you know how?"


    "Yes... No."


    "Ask a human to help you, I saw Gildo explaining it to the kids before."


    "Gildo? Uhm..."


    "You don''t like Gildo?"


    "It''s fine, I''ll figure it out."


    -


    Before long an impromptu village had cropped up.


    Concentric half-circles of sleeping tents surrounded a plaza of multiple fire pits and workstations. A space had been cleared out there for the members of the main goblin family to sit together.


    On the other side of the plaza the horses and wolves resided. They had their own, more open, protection against possible rain, in which also the heavy equipment was bunched up.


    It looked almost like an autonomous village, more developed than most goblin settlements. It was the largest collective of goblins an participant had ever seen together. Hundreds of childlike voices babbled and screamed over each other at all times, creating a constant background noise.


    Somewhere in the back of his mind Scratch decided that nothing like this could exist long-term. Currently the children were charmed by the novelty of the experience, but they were childish and chaotic. They would turn against each other after a while, he figured.


    -


    Food was prepared in batches. The pans and kettles they had brought weren''t enough to cook for every soldier to eat simultaneously.


    Large iron bowls were put on top of the disparate fires, on top of it a gruel of crushed oats and water was heated up.


    That gruel would then be scooped up in the drinking mugs of the marching goblins slurp it from. Special treats, such as crusts of bread and fruit, were handed out to the most prominent tribe members to keep them content.


    Roughly two tribes were fed at a time, once they were catered to the process could begin anew for the next batch.


    The main family and their humans ate last. These were all the people normally residing in the Promise.


    -


    The sun already stood high when it was finally their chance to eat, the goblins and hobgoblins squinted their eyes and held up their hands to protect themselves from the sun.


    "We gotta eat slop too?" Ada complained.


    "It''s just to fill your stomach." Her mother said. "We have to endure some discomfort for our survival."


    "I''m not eating this," she complained while eating it, "I want rabbit meat."


    "Hmpf, or some fish." Aimone, who was sitting across from her, grumped.


    "Yes! Minnow stew from the river." She mused. "With breadcrumbs."


    "Minnow... You''ve never tasted calamari from the southern sea." He said while stirring his gruel. "Or serrated bladefish, fresh from the boat."


    "Yeah? Is that good?" She asked.


    "Girl, you have no idea. Nothing beats the smell of a Grienician fish market. Sitting in the sun with a platter at the end of a workday..." He sighed nostalgically.


    "I''d love to try it one day." She said between slurps.


    "Well you can''t." Mid-conversation he remembered that he didn''t like her.


    "You three must be hungry." Harkness filled in for him by addressing the three hobgoblins. "I saw you practicing with swords ever since you got here."


    Felix nodded enthusiastically. "I saw the disarm maneuver by circling the blade and I really really wanted to learn it."


    "You should be practicing more mounted combat." She said, "that''s what you''ll be doing during the battle."


    "Yeah. But I didn''t want to..." He trailed off, remembering the one-on-one fight between Angus and the goblin slayer.


    "My magic is not coming back. "Jasper suddenly stated to his mother.


    "Your magic is gone?"


    "My... my mana."


    "Mana come back slower outside of the promise." She said on a calming tone. "It''s for emergencies only, okay?"


    -


    Meanwhile, Scratch was listening to Huckabee crudely recollect what information he had absorbed from the others.


    "So... these won''t be veteran knights. That''s the important bit." Huckabee stated. "The army sends beginners to low level areas to gain experience. I mean... they''ve trained, but they haven''t trained to their full potential, you know? Each one would be about as strong as a... as a hobgoblin. But with armor."


    Scratch ate his gruel by dipping in two fingers and licking it off. "That''s still stronger than a goblin."


    You There had draped himself on his shoulder and whispered into his ear. "I assure you master, strength is not what wins a battle, morale is. And goblins are unbreakable." The bounds and gag hadn''t been reapplied for now. He enjoyed the conditional freedom to hang around his master.


    "We''re catching them by surprise, aren''t we?" Scratch asked Huckabee. "Can''t we overpower the guards while they''re sleeping?"


    Huckabee nodded. "No." He quickly swallowed his own mouthful of gruel. "The boss explained this to me, you can''t sneak up on a fort, any group big enough to break through the night defense is big enough to get noticed from afar, so they got time to send out their troops to face us. They will be less prepared than if we wait for them to launch their own attack though."


    "So the plan is to drive back the forces they send out and then lay siege to the fort?" Scratch asked.


    "Yes exactly. We don''t gotta defeat every single one in combat, but we block contact with the outside and starve them."


    "Block off contact, huh?" Scratch scratched his chin, accidentally smearing it with gruel. "That would be blocking off supplies deliveries from Eston."


    "From Eston, or from anywhere else."


    Scratch continued talking while You There cleaned his face. "Right... And then?"


    "Hhm?" Huckabee had his mouth full again.


    "Once we''ve starved them and take the fort, what then?"


    The bandit hesitated. "I don''t know... Suppose we go back, don''t suppose we can keep it. The king would send aux- auxiliary troops."


    "Unfortunately, we do not have a long-term strategy." Stanford said as he sat down next to them. He had overheard their conversation and moved closer to join in. "we''re attacking the fort just to postpone a large-scale suppression."


    You There leered at him, he leered back.


    "How long does this buy us? If we succeed." Scratch asked.


    "A few months, it is difficult to say.... Scratch, Huckabee, I''m leaving."


    "The shitting corner is over there."


    The healer shook his head. "No. I mean the group. This dungeon business... I simply cannot reconcile it with my faith."


    "Where will you go?" Huckabee gaped with his mouth open.


    "Truly, I do not know. Wander around like a regular bandit I suppose. I have come along with this march due to my debts to Lydia Harkness, but after this... it''s over."


    Scratch deepened his voice and spoke with more breath. "It is fine to part ways, but do it as a citizen, not as an outlaw."


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "What is your meaning?"


    "We''ve just rebalanced our power with the thieves'' guild, it''d be a shame not to make use of it. I''ve spoken to Barbara, and we''re re-instituting the false identities."


    Huckabee loudly gulped. "That''s... that''s a big dream. Everybody''s given up hope, that why... you know... why they agreed to..."


    "We''ll set a precedent." Scratch explained. "Those who''ve distinguished themselves, like you, maybe the Italians..."


    "Huh?"


    "...Grienicians."


    Stanford raised an eyebrow. "Does the boss know about this?"


    "I do." She said, suddenly standing behind him. "We do have a long term strategy Stanford. It involves citizenship, new trade routes, and a stronger military."


    Scratch looked up at her, squinting at the sunlight. "You done eating?"


    "Yes." She picked him up from the ground. "I already send the kids to bed. It''s time for everybody to get some rest, we set out at sunset. Scratch, you''re sleeping with me."


    <hr>


    Lydia Harkness had personal business with Scratch, which she discussed with him in the privacy of her tent.


    "Our troops would be stronger if we had more hobgoblins with us." She mentioned while circling her finger on his chest.


    "Let''s not deal and ifs." He said. "We have what we have."


    But the discussion did not evolve into anything substantive as she initiated lovemaking as she had done only a few times before.


    The following sunset Scratch didn''t seem like he''d gotten much rest. He had bags under his eyes and heavily leaned on Wendy''s back.


    "Well well well master. It would seem to me that you''ve enjoyed the privileges of the most intimate, the-"


    "Shut up. I don''t want to hear it. Can someone gag him again?"


    -


    The wolf riders were ready to set out while the infantry was still organizing itself and packing up.


    Harkness, appearing fresh tough having slept just as little as Scratch, spoke to the riders before they set out.


    "Once you see the fortress, turn back. We want to gather the troops in one place from which to launch our attack. Scratch? Are you listening?"


    "Have no fear, madam." The demon spoke for him. "I shall guide my master to the best of my ability and proof my worth to you both."


    "Right. Second? Can you keep an eye on both of them?" She asked.


    Second didn''t respond altogether very enthusiastically.


    "Well... fine. We''ll see you later." She sighed.


    A bunch of disconnected "bye"s and "later"s sounded over each other and the group headed off.


    "You smell like swear and like her." Wendy said to Scratch in her own language.


    "Thanks for noticing." He remarked dryly in his own.


    <hr>


    As predicted, the fortification did appear on the horizon before the night was through.


    Though made of stone it was as far removed from a proper castle as possible. Man-high walls from chunky boulders circled the top of a sloped hill, broken a bit by wooden watchtowers. Human knights, the size of ants from this distance, marched in square formations on the green grass below, waving colored cloth around and riding the occasional horse.


    Their last expedition having been foiled by an attack on the advance party, they were preparing for another go at it.


    "What d''you say?" Scratch asked the others. Take the gulley at the back of the hillock? We''d be shielded from sight."


    But one of the wolves growled deeply and peered at the horizon.


    "Dungeon master," Wendy spoke for the benefit of the goblins, who did not have the wolves'' senses, "there are more packs of man-things, east and further-east travels a large group."


    Without the barking horn Scratch was unable to reply to her in her own language. He tried crudely with some grunty noises from the back of his throat. "They''re... leaving this place?"


    "Nay, arriving. By the smell they are returning to their own kind, after traveling to the stony sprawl by the sea. The sun will not have risen before they arrive."


    "I see. So it''s a big procession marching to the city, Eston, and now back." Scratch said aloud.


    "Are they at war with Eston?" Second asked, rather ignorantly.


    "No. They rely on Eston, everything they need-" Scratch snapped his fingers. "Of course, they''re resupplying. The thing we''re laying siege to avoid."


    "It doesn''t make a difference," Fyro claimed, "even if they''re weaker without them, our army isn''t here yet, so..."


    "No. It''s not a large part of the army they''re sending, just a couple of bodyguards. Smaller than a scouting party..." Scratch hummed.


    "Oh master, what a delightful idea!" You There exclaimed joyfully.


    "What? What''s going on?" Second asked suspiciously.


    "We''re raiding the supply caravan," Scratch explained, "that should cripple them and shorten all of this up by a lot."


    "Oh no," Second protested, "we were told just to start up camp, not to-"


    "Who is the goblin boss?" Scratch asked aggressively. "Me or her. Huh?"


    Second bit his lip and looked away.


    "We''re getting those supplies." The goblin boss declared in a final manner.


    They didn''t move.


    He lean in towards Wendy''s ear and tried as best as he could to explain the new plan.


    Before too long they were speeding off, taking a rounded path to circumvent sight of the fort and flank the arriving party.


    The wind wolf''s authority was a lot more natural and unstated. She simply started to move and the others followed.


    -


    It wasn''t long before they had to stop again, they''d gotten as close as they could.


    It was difficult sneaking up on anything in a flat, featureless plain. But the wolves with their sense of smell were able to paint a picture to the goblins without coming close enough to be seen.


    There were two knights on horseback and close to twenty on foot marching on the grassy plains.


    They were situated on all sides on a train of three large wagons, packed with freshly killed poultry, great bags of wheat and potatoes, and smaller cases with various products.


    "That''s a lot of muscle to protect against horned rabbits and stray wolves." Scratch remarked.


    "What an opportune moment!" The demon exclaimed. "Master. We should defeat an overwhelming force using superior tactics."


    "Great plan Napoleon. Got anything specific in mind?" Scratch leered at him.


    You There grinned. "This is why I desired so strongly to ride with the champion of trickery. You see, the art of war is the art of misdirection. The enemy should believe you are strong where you are weak and weak where you are strong."


    "That''s not a plan." Second snipped at him.


    "I get the second part." Scratch responded. "If we were with more we could pretend to be vulnerable and lure them into an ambush. But how do you leverage being weak?"


    "The principle is the same," the demon answered, "the enemy must be misinformed so that it moves to places it should not. The ultimate purpose is to have the enemy make mistakes."


    "The ultimate goal," Scratch corrected him, "is to kill those knights."


    "Hhm?" Benjamin opened his eyes just long enough to add to the conversation. "I thought the goal was to stop the supply train?"


    "It''s the same thing." Fyro explained to him.


    "No... Benjamin is right..." Scratch put his hand on his chin. "I think I have a plan."


    <hr>


    "Everybody keep up the pace!" James Rochast commanded from the back of his horse.


    There was some slight grumbling among the pedestrians. The young knight barely outranked them, yet he was taking his position of mission leader very seriously.


    Everybody there grew up together and had attended the same academy. Currently they were tired and sleepy, their mission had kept them awake late into the night and the leader still insisted on proper form and formation.


    "Aren''t you being a little overzealous?" Fiona Rochast finally said. She shared his position and also had a horse.


    "Why? Are you saying what we''re doing isn''t important?"


    She rolled her eyes. "Why are you like this Jamie?"


    He reached out and punched her shoulder. "Don''t call me that."


    She swatted at his arm.


    The two continued to slap at each other in the air between them.


    Suddenly James pulled back and straightened himself. "Stop that. We''re leaders, we must make an example."


    "Lad. We''re on grocery duty. This is not the chance to prove yourself you think it is."


    He kept his head straight but glanced at her from the side. "This food is vital for the conquest mission. That means our duty of protecting it is vital as well."


    She laughed. "Protect it from what? There''s nothing-"


    "Oy!" Casey Twicaster, who hadn''t been given a horse, called out. He had seen what was up ahead before them.


    In the distance the orange glow of several campfires lit up a hillside.


    "What is that?" James asked.


    "They''re between us and the fort. It can''t be knights, must be adventurers or bandits." Fiona analyzed.


    "We should be prepared for a clash." James immediately reached for his weapon, even though the camp was still relatively far off.


    "Perhaps we can go ahead of the group and meet them." She suggested. "I don''t know about you, but I know I need some new conversation. No offense."


    "Our mission is to stay with the caravan." He responded.


    "Oh. I see. You''re scared."


    "You think that''ll work on me? I''m not fourteen anymore."


    "You totally are scared though."


    His eye twitched. "Fine. I''ll go. But you stay here and command the troops."


    "Tch. Aww." She wasn''t under his command but stayed behind anyway as he rode ahead.


    "Is that what he calls us? ''The troops''?" Casey complained when James when he was out of earshot. "Who does he think he is?"


    "Oh, let him." His neighbour said. "Heaven knows he needs the ego boost."


    "It''s been ten years. When are we going to stop feeling sorry for him?" He grunted.


    -


    Not too long after going ahead James came back.


    "Not adventurers!?" Fiona called out to him when she saw his horse galloping towards them.


    He didn''t speak until he was in range for normal spoken conversation. "It''s goblins. And a whole lot of them too."


    "That''s not possible." Fiona answered. "The goblin forces are in the forest. Remember captain Harkness'' report?"


    "Don''t tell me what I did or didn''t see." He snipped at her.


    "Well, what did you see?"


    Warg riders, at least five of them. They''re guarding a camp of sorts, they''ve got dirt heap fortifications, a few tents and a few big fires. The ones I saw were just the dedicated guards, there''s a village worth of them inside.


    "What a nuisance." Fiona complained.


    "Finally some excitement." James disagreed. "See now how necessary we are? Stop the wagons, we''ll march ahead and wipe them out."


    She sighed. "Yeah... fine."


    "Right flank! Left Flank!" He commanded. "Step forward, shield men in front, we''re assuming the line formation!"


    The two horse riders circled around the men as they lined themselves up.


    "Listen here. In my reconnaissance I have been spotted by the guards, the goblins are therefore likely aware of our presence. They will be expecting us with a fielded throng, stay in formation and save your magic for the wolves! Now, onwards!"


    They had only set a few steps before he changed his mind. "Wait. Somebody should stay behind, to protect the cargo against wild monsters. Fiona-"


    "What? Me?" Fiona pouted. "You know we''re supposed to be equals on this mission."


    "Take Casey and Harriet and stay with the wagons, okay?"


    She looked defiant for a moment.


    "...please?" He added.


    "Fine. It''s my fault for calling you a coward anyway." She gestured at him to leave.


    He nodded and sped off.


    -


    The three remaining knights watched the group head off and planted themselves in the grass beside the wagons.


    It wasn''t long before Casey fell asleep completely.


    Harriet was practicing embroidery on her own cape and Fiona stared into the starry sky.


    "Did something happen to James?" Harriet asked without looking up. "Casey said something about everybody feeling sorry for him."


    "He would be mad if you brought it up." Fiona answered. "But when we were kids, Jamie- What was that?"


    "Huh?"


    "I heard something."


    The Rochast stood up and tread around the wagons. There she saw a goblin with a chicken in his mouth rummage through the food wagon.


    He looked up and noticed her.


    In a split second she had brandished her bow and fired and arrow, but the creature let itself fall straight down and onto the back of a speeding wolf, who carried it underneath the wagon to the other side. The arrow missed them by a hair.


    All around the caravan flitted the silhouettes of moving thieves and scavengers.


    "Damn!" She yelled out. "Comrades! Raiding pests."


    The other knights did not move with much urgency. Harriet simply looked up questioningly and Casey sat up groggily.


    "A warg rider." She told them.


    "Alright, alright, we''ll protect the wagons." Casey sighed.


    A high-pitched voice permeated from the dark knight. "The jig is up boys. Best skedaddle now while they''re busy with the fire."


    The wolves and their riders hurried away into the darkness, Fiona launched a fire arrow at one and singed its tail. She quickly knocked another arrow for a more accurate shot, when a voice rang out behind her.


    "Seems like somebody''s been reckless with fire magic." On top of the wagon stood a wolf rider, a one-eyed goblin wearing a small tunic and one long sleeve on top of not a warg wolf, but a wind wolf, a rare and powerful monster. The goblin raised his sleeved arm and the tip of a spellrod peeked out. "Oops, I guess it was me."


    All the three wagons were burning.


    Fiona shot at the goblin leader but the wind wolf was too fast for her. It dodged the arrow easily and was then gone.


    It was too late to shoot at the other riders now, but the knights had a more pressing issue to deal with. Once they''d used their magic to put out the fire most of the wares had already been destroyed.


    "This sucks." She said to the others. They very much agreed.


    <hr>


    "You did what?" Lydia Harkness grabbed her forehead listening to the report of the goblin patriarch.


    "Squeezed in a preliminary victory during our scouting mission." Scratch summarized smugly, he leaned back with a blue grass cigarette while the war camp went up all around them.


    "Left your post, making us think you were dead. You lost your tents to a diversion tactic. You announced our presence to the enemy. And you did it all just before sunrise, when the sunlight is too hot for the goblins to fight in." She assessed.


    "W-well. When you put it like that..."


    She leaned in to hug him. "Don''t scare us like that."


    "Alright. Alright." He patted her back. "They won''t find and march to this place before evening, I''m sure of that. We goblins do just fine in the twilight."


    She didn''t let go. "Follow my orders next time."


    "...Right."


    <hr>


    Knights


    Knighthood is the lowest rung of nobility and generally does not come with land. The troops fielded by counts and dukes are made up out of knights.


    When a member of a knight family becomes and adventurer, and they''ve completed their formal training, they can ascend to rank D automatically. As that rank is created to match the knight title. And any adventurer that achieves D rank can by law marry into a knight family.


    As with all nobility, the skillset of a knight depends on the martial traditions of their family. There are knights with rogue skillsets, that of a mage, a vanguard, or any other.


    Due to the manifold bloodlines among the knighthood there is no shortage of marriage candidates among the population. Therefore, special requests to the adventurer''s guild are rare to non-existent. However, marrying into knighthood as a rank D adventurer is not made difficult either, it simply requires personal connections.

 Give and Take

    "Give me three guys with shotties and some bacon on the pad for 15 minutes. I''ll sweep it for ya." He said over the phone.


    "You get initiated and now you think you''re a capo?" His boss mocked him. "I should smack you, mouthy kid. Asking for soldiers..."


    He impatiently switched the payphone horn to the other side of his ear. "Well then you send somebody. This is your bottom line we''re talking about."


    The boss gave an angry huff. "Watch your tone, bagman. You may be an earner, but in this syndicate it''s about respect. You have a problem you tell me about it, I''ll decide who needs killing or not."


    "There''s twenty methed up junkies sitting on a cathouse. There''s been no paying customers for weeks. What does it take to bag these ingrates? Cause the books are going red."


    "And I''m telling you to write it off. It''s over. You''d understand if-" He hung up.


    "What''s the verdict?" His partner in crime asked.


    "They''re telling us to choke on it." He spat. "That''s what being a mob earner will get you these days. Leeches."


    "You''re telling me bigshot capone is afraid of the tweaking twink in the attic?" She gestured at the apartment building opposite. It had been an underworld brothel until recently, when it had been taken over by delinquents with guns, a group of addicts that had enjoyed themselves too much to leave and now found that nobody was making them.


    She was referring to their leader. A skinny guy covered in tattoos and piercings, he had the composure and coordination of a toddler and hardly seemed like a threat to anyone.


    "Not him, his family. Bastards won''t even give me the skinny on it, but I know the truth. Guy''s uncle is an underboss upstate, rival syndicate."


    She whistled. "I see. So it''s to avoid a gang war. I guess that''s the right call."


    "Right call my ass." He sat down on the curb. "What''s the point of soldiers if you won''t defend your territory? Upstate is slicing off a piece the territory, our piece, and they do nothing."


    She scratch her head. "So... we''re wasting them right?"


    "Who?"


    "The don. And the others."


    He looked at her seriously. "Usually, saying that gets you a free vacation to the bottom of the canal."


    "It''s only you and me here."


    He sighed. "What we do is set up our own skims, take away business from the family, and protect them with our insider knowledge, right?"


    "Uh-huh. But that''s just a grift." She said. "I mean, take over."


    "We need more friends for that." He answered. "Anyway, that''s long term. It doesn''t fix our methhead problem."


    Inside the apartment a glass bottle was shattered and someone screamed.


    "Would upstate really start a war over this twerp?" She asked.


    "That''s the problem with family businesses," he croaked, "they''re completely irrational. I guess when it''s your own kids out there you lose the ability to make a risk/reward balance."


    She shrugged and sat down next to him. "You don''t have a family left do you?"


    "Nah, don''t see the benefit, you?" He handed her a cigarette.


    She was slightly indignant. "Not anymore."


    They sat there smoking on the curb for a good half hour.


    "I wouldn''t want them in this life." She eventually blurted out.


    "What?"


    "I''m saying all these gangsters are getting their brothers and sisters cushy mob jobs. I wouldn''t. I wouldn''t want them to be part of it."


    He nodded understandingly. "Tangled loyalties. I get that."


    She shook her head. "Too dangerous."


    "Hhm."


    <hr>


    "You did WHAT!?" Captain Harkness fumed.


    "We were tricked." James Rochast stated while avoiding eye contact.


    Their superior pointed his finger at each of them. "You ordered the men to abandon the critical objective. You failed to protect it, and to punish the attackers. There is no excuse."


    "But-"


    "No. Excuse. You''re off the advance squad."


    "What!?"


    "Both of you are. I''m keeping you here while-"


    A loud bang from the conference room door slamming open interrupted the lecture.


    The captain turned around angrily. "What is it? This better be important."


    A teenager stood in the doorway, shaking in his shoes from the man''s authority. "S-sir. Enemy troops have been spotted. Sir."


    "What are you talking about? There are no enemy troops, we''re here to kill goblins."


    The boy didn''t have a response to that. "Excuse me... uhm..."


    "We better go take a look." James initiated and lead the way out of the chamber.


    -


    From ground level only the smoke plumes were visible, but from up in the watchtower they could see a true war camp.


    Tents, horses, wagons of supplies and racks of weapons. They were primitive but nothing was missing to make this a professional army.


    "They''re collapsing their manpower and taking formation," the captain grinded his teeth, "Lydia has collected a goblin army."


    "We''ll raid them in the night!" James Rochast clenched his fist in determination. "Five knights on horses can burn down the whole camp while they sleep."


    Captain Harkness violently drove his elbow into the younger knight''s nose.


    Both Rochasts cried out in shock. "Ah! Why?"


    "First of all, goblins are nocturnal, they can see better in the darkness than we can, so your raid is unfeasible to begin with. Second of all, they''re preparing their advance right now. Lydia is determined to wring out that advantage. And thirdly," He huffed angrily, "you two are off the advance squad. You''ll be staying in the back while we engage."


    James was clutching his bloody nose. "That''s bull, Fiona, do you-"


    "You told me you weren''t here for revenge." She admonished him angrily, helping him to his feet.


    "I''m not!"


    The captain didn''t turn to look at them. "Go get some healing for that. I don''t want to see you two until after the battle."


    They drooped off. "We got away lightly," Fiona said, "considering..."


    "Considering?" James disagreed. "It''s a humiliation. A real man fights on the front lines."


    <hr>


    The goblins had a few hours of downtime to sit down, massage their feet, and eat something.


    While they were recuperating from the long march the humans poured out of their half-build fortress and took formation.


    Eventually Scratch whistled on two fingers for the goblins to make ready.


    The heavy infantry changed into their steel harnesses, the bandits mounted their horses, and the wolf riders gathered behind the front line.


    "Remember!" Lydia Harkness shouted over the clanging of metal. "Keep formation, stay in line!"


    As such they advanced, the armored troops in front, the mounted and light footsoldiers just behind.


    -


    They crossed the uneven rolling hills to see the humans do the same.


    Two armies, marching steadily towards each other.


    An impossibly loud voice boomed over the battlefield. "Left-guard advance! Middle squadron, phalanx formation!"


    "What is that?" Scratch asked shocked.


    Harkness answered. "The human commander is using war magic to project his voice, in order to lead from the back."


    And sure enough, the middle squadron of humans took a V-shape after the voice had spoken.


    "Your father, isn''t he?" Scratch asked.


    She kept silent.


    "I wish I could do that." He pouted.


    "We''ll just have to lead from the front." She said decisively. "Take the ranged fighters and harass their armored troops, that''ll force them to come to us."


    "...Sure." Scratch scratched and whispered to his wolf what he needed from her and they turned to gather sling users and bowmen.


    -


    Not long after the shield of the goblins parted to let through a deluge of eager tribe goblins. Led by warg riders.


    A rain of pebbles and arrows battered onto the humans'' heads, weighted down by nothing the goblins could evade their magical and non-magical effects completely. Advancing in formation the humans were a lot slower. Quite a few of the knights fell down, too gravely injured to continue fighting.


    The humans'' own light infantry was not ordered to like-wise come out for a more symmetrical skirmish, the wargs danced so deftly through the battlefield that skirmishers of their skill level were hopelessly outmatched, and their leader knew it. Instead, they did something else.


    The voice boomed again. "Equestrians give chase!"


    "Back!" Scratch screamed "Back! Back behind the shield wall!"


    But most goblins were too focused on their touch-and-go game with the knights to pay attention.


    Humans on horseback burst forth from their ranks. The front among them was the source of the commands, captain


    Harkness, leading the cavalry to chase off the goblin light infantry.


    He was an aged and grey man, but his composure and skill with a lance was far beyond that of the young recruits surrounding him. He struck an imposing figure.


    It took the human horseback riders storming past their comrades and trampling a good number of the goblins for them to understand the gravity of the situation and retreat.


    The cavalry chased the goblins, shooting and spearing them left and right, until they collided with the wall of steel.


    The knights tried to trample them, but the powerful metal and mass of spears staggered the horses. They fell down and were forced to turn around and flee.


    "Steel!" One called out. "It''s steel!"


    -


    "It''s just like she said..." Scratch commented to himself after witnessing this back and forth.


    He had only just in time retreated behind the shield wall and saw the horses rebuked.


    "Quite a spectacle, isn''t it?" You There grinned next to him. "The light infantry can punish the heavy infantry, the cavalry can chase the light cavalry, and the heavy infantry can overwhelm the cavalry. How balanced! Then, come to think of it, if it were not so, then one type of unit would be optimal, and all an army would ever field, no?"


    Scratch grunted. "I don''t want balance. Tell us how we can win."


    "Aha! Master, how right you are, victory is the goal. You must forgive me, as a demon, my first thought is with prolonging suffering, and causing death."


    Scratch looked at him from the side, slightly annoyed.


    "I''ll tell you now," the demon continued, "the deciding moment in the battle is when the two shield walls clash. The side that breaks formation loses, when their formation is gone the cavalry can pour into their occupied space and wreak havoc. Killing fleeing infantry of all sorts!"


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    "Hhm..." The goblin assessed the situation. The knights were supposedly inexperienced trainees, but surely, each one could overpower a goblin by himself. Strength in numbers could compensate for that, but strengthening any point in the line this way would require pulling away troops from other places and weakening it there.


    "I do believe you will be pleasantly surprised by the result." The demon grinned from under his eye-obscuring hairdo.


    <hr>


    Just minutes later the shield walls clashed.


    You There was right, to Scratch great surprise the knights crashed into the goblins and broke apart like water on a rock.


    "Go go!" He yelled out at the bandits and warg riders, not expecting to have to act so quickly on opportunity.


    His voiced reached nowhere near far enough, but they figured it out themselves after a few seconds and chased after the knights that had separated from the rest.


    Scratch and Wendy were the first to enter into enemy territory, flying like wind over the heads of combatants to spear fleeing men in the neck and bite at their ankles.


    While the goblin cavalry had a ball tearing up the knights at their back the powerful voice of the human captain boomed over the battlefield again.


    "Middle Squadron, turtle formation! Left and Right, withdraw! Cavalry, advance!"


    Efficiently, with perfect mass coordination, the troops responded to their broken shield walls by separating into multiple smaller ones.


    "I hate that guy." Scratch muttered to himself. If the knights didn''t have such a direct line of command the battle would already have been won.


    Still, it was unbelievable how quickly they''d been able to break through.


    "The relentless throng!" You There jubilated while catching up to Scratch in the middle of the affray. "I do believe you trust its power now."


    "What are you talking about?"


    "Morale, master! Strength is important but morale is vital! Goblins do not lose their nerve and can hold formation until death, while humans must fight their survival instincts and must turn to flee! It has been a hundred years since this world has seen this power, your enemies most likely underestimated our strength."


    "Good, let''s carry that momentum to the finish line."


    The demon nodded.


    Right then the human horseback riders came to chase them away, covering for the retreating light infantry.


    Scratch tried to yell at the other horse riders to withdraw, but they were too spread again to hear him. It was not that big of a concern, since the wolves could easily outmaneuver horses.


    -


    The two sides consolidated again and split the battlefield into two, this time the goblin army had taken up a great deal more space.


    A few more pushes like that and the knights would be forced to retreat into the fort.


    The smaller shield walls the humans had formed were holding out for longer than the previous one.


    They were in turtle formation, forming a circle and facing their weapons outwards towards the deluge of attackers.


    Goblins upon goblins bashed themselves upon the box, getting mowed down by the dozens. They gave their lives just to chip away at their enemies'' stamina and footing.


    They were making progress, but the numbers were dwindling quickly.


    "Agh! What are they doing?" Scratch complained.


    You There licked his lips. "This is the fury of the relentless throng, master. You must know already that this is how goblins fight."


    "Not my goblins." Scratch guided Wendy to meet up with Lydia Harkness.


    -


    "Make them stop, this is a meat grinder." He demanded.


    She looked down from high upon her horse. "You''re right, they should not have to die like this."


    "Good, because-"


    "We should be their shield!" She looked over to the other horseback riders. "Felix, Jasper! Follow me, we''re breaking through."


    "What? No!" Scratch pulled his hair as he watch her take his children to the most dangerous part of the front lines.


    "Haha. That''s the knightly chivalry for you," the demon purred, "can not have conscripts die before her."


    "Help me fix this," Scratch demanded, "help me control her. That''s what I keep you around for isn''t it?"


    "Regrettably, master, the art of manipulation does not come with magic phrases. It takes time. Rather, I think we should endeavor to diminish the strength of the enemy."


    "... What?"


    You There pointed his tiny finger at the central turtle formation. "These men fight with the courage of the desperate.


    Their morale is high and their formation is strong because they have nowhere to run. Did I not tell you that warfare is the art of deception? In the past you have feigned strength were you were weak, not it is time to feign weakness where you are strong."


    "You mean to create an opening in the throng?"


    "Precisely. They must be tricked into fleeing. Call it an ''opening in the dam''. Most surely, they will flow out like water."


    Scratch shook his head. "That''s preposterous. They know that fleeing here would mean getting chased down, compared to their chances staying in formation that''s an easy trade-off to calculate."


    You There''s frown couldn''t be seen under his bowl cut, but his mouth moved to the side. "I assure you that these men do not calculate. More to the point, do you have the time to debate my advice? Just listen."


    Jasper was screaming in pain from some sort of battle injury, the other fighters were roaring in a desperate sort of rage. It was clear that they were sacrificing themselves for the cause.


    "Damnit." The goblin patriarch cursed. "Wendy, take me to the other side."


    -


    In the blink of an eye and with the speed of the wind the wolf encircled the turtle formation.


    It was a gulley in the rolling hills, a lower point where the human horseback riders couldn''t easily descent to aid their comrades and the goblins were blocking in the heavy infantry from rejoining them to the human controlled space.


    "Circle back!" He called out to the goblins, but they didn''t hear him. Wolf and goblin descended low enough to touch the fighters'' shoulders and speak to them. "Circle back." He demanded again. "Your lives are too precious to spend on holding this line, go join your brothers in the rear."


    He had to say it a few times for them to get the message and the line started to thin out. Until he felt the need to leave himself, from the sheer amount of swords unoccupied with other foes.


    "Screw it, I''m running for it!" Just as You There had said, given a chance to flee the claustrophobic turtle formation the humans did so immediately. They dropped their shields and weapons and started sprinting.


    Feeling their backrows disappear behind them the others turned to flee as well, and soon the entire turtle formation deflated like a balloon.


    The wolf riders were now free to chase them down, killing many before the human cavalry even had the time to react.


    Again the goblin shield wall pushed forward and won new terrain. The humans were fighting practically in front of their fort''s gate now.


    <hr>


    Over the cours of the battle the sun had gone down. The humans were using a combination of torches and light magic to illuminate themselves and their stronghold.


    The army fort was a tall wooden structure, its shape reminiscent of that of a true castle. It had watchtowers on the corners, a wall with archers and crenelations and a large fortified gate.


    It wasn''t completely finished, scaffolding and naked frameworks broke up the mighty facade of the structure.


    It was impossible for the goblin army to close in comfortably on the fortress. The archers up high had easy pickings on the masses below, and the ranged weapons from the goblins had trouble reaching their height.


    Scratch made sure to expressly forbid his troops from incurring onto the snipers'' range.


    Because of this a stalemate developed, the goblins were kept out and the knight army was kept in.


    It went on for a while with a few half-hearted attempts by the humans to move around the goblins or focus their strength on a single point in the line, each time they were rebuked and had to withdraw close to the fort.


    -


    Scratch went to meet with Harkness and the other bandits to discuss their strategy.


    "How''s Jasper?" He asked first.


    "With Stanford," she answered, "he''s being healed."


    "Have we succesfully laid siege now?" He then wanted to know.


    "In a while they''ll have to retreat into the fortress," Harkness answered, "then we can dig into our position and create barricades they cannot break even with their strength renewed."


    "Ha, this is nostalgic." Aimone claimed. "Remember, Audace? We two were soldiers in the time of the defense war, sieging fortresses of yours, just like this one."


    "Of who?" Huckabee asked confused. "Us?"


    "Of royalists...." Audace hissed out in a long deliberate tone.


    "Mannagia. Am I happy not to be a frontliner this time. Every day soldiers die, and nessuno knows when the siege will end."


    "It can end sooner if we capture the enemy commander." Harkness mulled. "Without their leadership they''ll collapse."


    "Eh? The old guy on the horse?" Huckabee asked. "Can''t do it, right? I mean, the archers."


    "We can do it," Scratch answered, "but not by ourselves. We need his cooperation."


    Aimone scoffed. "What are you talking about you st-"


    Harkness interrupted him. "You have another plan, Scratch?"


    "What do you call a plan? If we feign weakness at the a point in the line, the enemy will try to break through there. He might lead the charge himself."


    "No he definitely would." She confirmed. "That''s our plan then, we''ll lure out their captain and take him down."


    "It''s already so dark." Huckabee mentioned. "Will they even dare ride out where they can''t see?"


    "If there''s one thing the Harkness'' specialize in it''s dealing in the darkness." She said. "We''re an assassin branch after all."


    -


    Working together with the experienced warriors the goblins engineered a ruse.


    The shield wall was supposed to open up when the enemy came to harass them. Multiple heavy infantry goblins wouls stap aside like a door entrance and let the cavalry ride through.


    It took some time before the opportunity to enact the trap presented itself. The idleness of the current stationary position had the goblins losing discipline and distract themselves with childish games. One had been foolish enough to take off his helm and payed for it with a nasty arrow taking off his nose.


    The enemy had arrived to test the defenses. Quickly the line opened up, laying out the bait for the enemy to take.


    "There! Advance cavalry, break through!" The magically enhanced voice of captain Harkness boomed.


    He went ahead and conjured up lines of fire in the grass around him to attack the goblins and light the way for the riders behind him.


    When the group rushed in it became visible how the line wasn''t broken but curved inwards, up ahead they met not with the light infantry but more shields. Behind them the other shield goblins closed in. They were encircled.


    -


    "Ah! We''re trapped!" One of the knights exlaimed.


    "Keep your nerve nephew," the captain said, in a natural volume, "the enemy has no troops that can match our strength."


    A magical bolt of ice shot at him, but he trivially dodged it. It hit his nephew and knocked him off his horse.


    Lydia Harkness trotted forward on her horse from between the goblins. Flanked on either side by her bandit warriors.


    With five of them they were one less than the six horseback riders trapped by the goblins.


    "Maurice Harkness!" She exclaimed. "I challenge you!"


    "You are not a knight Lydia." He said clearly and understandibly, without screaming. "You aren''t even a peasant. You are a bandit. And you can not invoke that right."


    "So you would rather spill the blood of your men for the stakes of this battle." She challenged.


    "Our purpose here is to exterminate you lot. All of you." He answered calmly. "A clash can not be avoided."


    "Booo!" The goblins protested as if he were an unpopular politician. "Booo!"


    Enraged she spurred on her horse and raced towards him, drawing her blade.


    The bandits beside her engaged with the other knights to keep them occupied.


    -


    Huckabee and the others seemed overwhelmed by the force of the enemies, having to hang on to their mounts not to fall off after locking blades.


    "Ha!" One of the enemy boasted. "You''re-"


    He couldn''t finish his sentence as he was thrown of his horse by a heavy bolas.


    Two hobgoblins, Ada and Felix, launched debilitating effects on the knights from the safety of the goblin mass. They''d left behind their horses but they towered above their family by virtue of height and could launch their cursed objects at the enemy.


    With their aid the bandits were able to get on equal footing with the knights. Neither side getting the upper hand.


    -


    Meanwhile Lydia and her father were much more evenly matched.


    From the moment they first touched steel their battle had evolved to be much more acrobatic.


    Neither was shy to leave their saddle for momentary tactical advantage, jumping over each other, spinning, and making space to toss throwing knives at one another.


    During their fight the space they were dancing around in was shrinking, as the goblins closed in with their spears and side arms to skewer the knight captain.


    "Cowards! Get up!" He yelled at his comrades who were being held down entirely agains their will.


    Having to jump out of the way of goblin weapons he sacrificed his stance had his sword knocked out of his hands.


    "Give it up old man, don''t make me kill you." She threatened.


    He took a throwing knife and clenched it backward in his fist, then rushed at her.


    "Agh!" Displeased at having to do it she hacked into his arm, piercing his shoulder with the tip of her sword at the same time.


    He stumbled backwards, but didn''t fall.


    "Just give in!" She screamed in distress.


    With no real plan or hope he walked backwards, his back towards the rest of his enemies.


    "Should''ve killed you.... should''ve killed you...." He mumbled, clutching his hurt arm.


    "Captain!" One of the other knights took notice of their commander''s poor state and jumped out between him and the bandit leader. "Somebody do something! We have to get out of here. Use your mana, it''s life or death!"


    Balls and circles of fire began to form around the knights in the enclosed space.


    The bandits had to back off from their enemy when faced with such spells, leaving room for them to get up and mount their horses.


    "We can''t let the enemy commander leave." Lydia Harkness stated, sticking out her weapon.


    "Well you will." The young knight said, supporting the man with one arm and backing away from her.


    "What''s your name?" She asked.


    "Mine''s Rocksteady. I know yours." He grimaced. "The Harknesses are assassins, rogues. We Rocksteadies..." A magical spell began to form in his hand. "Are mages!"


    He spun around and fired it the other way, at the backline of goblins keeping them closed in. A flash of yellow energy connected and created a loud explosion, blasting the goblins apart and opening the way up back to the fortress.


    Rocksteady began to run with the captain, who was losing consciousness. As he did his comrades lifted them up their own horses to carry them off. They burtst out of the battlefield before the goblins had time to collect themselves.


    -


    "After them!" Lydia yelled, wasting no time mounting a horse in one simple jump.


    The bandits were hesitant. But Ada managed to get a hold of Huckabee''s horse, who had fallen off, and followed after her.


    "No fair, me too!" Felix yelled after her. She laughed triumphantly.


    As the pursuers began to catch up to the fleeing cavalry they entered the illuminated view of the fortess. An eerie space of white light under a dark sky.


    "We can''t let them go back to heal." Harkness insisted to Felix next to her. "If we kill him this whole thing is over. We won''t have to sacrifice anymore-"


    She was stopped by the sudden appearance of a mounted wind wolf in their path. The horses came to a sudden panicked stop.


    The wolf growled angrily at them and so did the goblin on top. "What are you doing here? Go back you maniacs."


    "We have to-"


    "We''re in range of the archers, hadn''t you noticed? When they see you you''re a porcupine."


    "We''re almost-"


    "No. Come back with me, now."


    <hr>


    With the plan to capture the enemy leader foiled, they had to resort to the original siege strategy.


    Everywhere surrounding the fortress the army pitched their tents, erected barricades, and generally dug themselves in for a long-term occupation.


    The main family from the Promise were not helping with establishing the camp, they were embroiled in an argument.


    "You know I nearly lost you there." Scratch fumed. "And not just yourself either."


    Lydia Harkness took on a serene and wise affectation. "I understand your concerns but-"


    "We would have won!" Ada interrupted. The two boys kept to the side inspecting their wounds, but she''d taken her mother''s side. "If you hadn''t stopped us, we''d have won."


    Harkness calmed her down with a gentle shush. "We started this war. We can''t expect others to risk their lives before us."


    Scratch put his hands on his hips and impatiently tapped his foot. "Bullshit we can''t. I''ve collected these kids specifically to protect you."


    "What I''m saying is we mustn''t."


    "Don''t-" Scratch was on the verge of shouting but recollected himself and started again. "It''s like you''ve already forgotten about Angus. I suppose that loss wasn''t a big deal, you''d like to repeat it."


    The words were especially hurtful. Harkness'' eyes opened wide and her breath stopped. Everybody was quiet.


    Off to the side You There coughed into his hand. "*cough* Open in the dam. *cough*"


    "But it''s not your fault," he continued, taking the hint, "they''ve put that on your all your life haven''t they? Those people.


    You were supposed to discount yourself."


    "Well..." she stammered, trying to get the conversation back on track without seeming too distraught. "As a knight..."


    "Lydia." He approached her and took her hands in his. "I want you to tell me that you value your own life."


    "Of course I do."


    "Tell me you don''t ride into danger like that because you''d prefer to die a hero to life with us."


    "No!"


    "I know you don''t. But they''ve got you acting like you do Ly! That father of yours, he''s getting inside your head. You''re acting like one of them."


    She sighed, regaining serenity. "Scratch. I promise to value my life."


    "Good." He kissed her hand. "That''s all I want to hear."


    With that the argument was over and they returned to the order of the day, able to enjoy each other''s company peacefully as they strengthened their siege camp.


    They were able to eat some of the more nutritious food wares they''d stolen from the humans the day before.


    At some point they were discussing the abilities of the enemy. "How can we compete with magic that strong?" Jasper asked.


    "Those knights used up all their mana out of desperation," Harkness explained, "it will take a long time before they can cast magic again."


    "But there are other knights that also have magic like that." He insisted.


    "Well, we''ll just have to be careful." She ruffled his hair.


    "The magic I''m worried about is that voice thingy." Scratch said. "It was like night and day how quickly they responded and how slowly we did."


    -


    It wasn''t until much later that Scratch and his demon discussed the argument they''d had.


    "You did well to follow my advice master," You There whispered to him over the water trough where they cleaned their mugs, "their current identity must be uncomfortable, and the preferred one reachable with much less tarnish of the pride. When you spun the selfless chivalry as involuntary reactions to a foreign power that was an excellent inspiration.


    "Hhm." Scratch grumbled, not looking up from his work. "Doesn''t seem to do much."


    "Of course, as I said, there are no singular magic phrases. But if you maintain this narrative, Lydia Harkness will find the strength to eschew her heroic ideals."


    Scratch looked up and pointed accusingly. "I haven''t forgotten how you tricked me into using your power on a goblin. I half expect this to have a horrible catch as well."


    "You give me too much credit master, how could I do that?."


    "...Right." Scratch seemed unconvinced.


    "I have no path to her but through you."


    "Right." He was displeased but less suspicious.


    <hr>


    Benesant


    All four realms can cooperate by a shared belief in the values of Benesant, goddess of light.


    While the citizens of reddington embody the fiery nature of Rhada, the Grienicians the tranquility of Histolf, the Blurich population is free spirited like Dower and the denizens of the Yellow Wastes are inflexible like Geros, they are all kind and just like Benesant.


    It was the goddess Benesant that gave the world the magic art of healing, which has saved many lives, as well light, curse removal, and protective spells against evil creatures.


    While the elemental magic of the other gods is taught in colleges, the light magic of Benesant is the exclusive domain of the church. Because of this, healing magic can be received for free by the pious.


    Adventurers with the healing class are often clerics of the church, or student of one. Their connection to healing magic gives them a special status and they may lead ecclestial ceremonies such as baptizing or marriage if there are no officials available.


    The white robe and mitre are the official uniform of healers and may not be worn by others, lest they be mistaken for a person of note.

 Secret War

    It was noon on the sixth day of the siege and Scratch was overseeing the battlefield.


    His seat was an elevated chair with an overhang for shade, it was similar in appearance to a lifeguard''s tower or that of a tennis umpire.


    From where he sat he could just about oversee the entire grassland between him and the gates. Including the small retinue of human horseback riders speeding to the south in full gallop. They were trying to surprise the southern siege camp during the day, when they would be asleep and in their tents, with a sudden ambush.


    He lifted a spellrod to his face. The fire spellrod would not do anything from this range, and the demon familiar on his forearm taxed his body too much to even use it very often. Instead, he''d procured a new one from his resourceful bandit allies. A spell just for this sort of situation.


    "Camp Sierra, eyes peeled. Enemy approaching. I repeat, enemy approaching." His voice boomed over the land in the tone of an old timey radio announcer. The way the spell worked, the rod would magnify anything spoken into it like a microphone.


    He then flopped over and stuck the rod down, where a helpful warg wolf leaned its front paws against the chair and barked into it, repeating about the same message for any wolves in the southern camp.


    The wolf was relatively young, having spend most of its life in symbiosis with the goblins of the Promise it had come to understand them. After it''d earned its position as translator Scratch had officially named it Saca, being unsure of its gender.


    Sure enough, from where he sat he could see the goblins crawling out of their tents and picking up their weapons. This attack by the humans too would prove to be futile.


    -


    Feeling satisfied with his directions for the moment Scratch climbed down from his spot.


    He petted Saca and left him alone to go for a walk.


    The camp around him had adopted a leisurely slow lifestyle. Most of the day was spend doing nothing, conserving energy for the next attack by the knights.


    It was an infectious lethargy, sleepy.


    He came across Huckabee napping in the midday sun. "Staying vigilant are we?"


    The bandit didn''t open his eyes. "If there''s horses coming I''ll hear them. What''s for dinner?"


    The goblin kicked him, not that there was much strength behind it. "We''ve got some forest game send here from the territories. And more carrier pigeon, you''d think they''d run out of them by now."


    At that news Huckabee did open one eye. "So the enemy has tried to call for backup again."


    "If they ever succeed we''re done for."


    "Can you catch them all?"


    "That''s why I''m saying they''ve gotta run outta them soon."


    Huckabee uprighted himself. "Are we still going through with the plan tomorrow?"


    "Of course," the goblin fished a cigarette out from under his sleeve, "if they stop requesting supplies that''s as good as an S.O.S."


    The bandit looked unsure.


    "Listen," Scratch said soothingly, "the suppliers are allies of ours. They''re with the thieves'' guild. Nobody will have any reason to suspect you aren''t a knight, it''ll be fine. Now if you''ll excuse me, I have to go find a light."


    -


    It being mid-day there were no torches or sconces about. To light his cigarette and start his communion with Cyclophan he sought out Lydia Harkness and her fire magic.


    He found her outside, using the light of the sun to read. There was a slight bump in her stomach, practically undetectable, another goblin pregnancy.


    Shielding his eye from the sun he began to make small talk. "Watcha reading there?"


    She looked up. "You''re here faster than expected."


    "Oh, you send for me?"


    "Take a look at this." She handed him the paper, it was a letter written in cursive.


    "Can we go inside? I can''t see anything with the sun shining in my eye."


    "...Sure."


    She brought him to her tent. It wasn''t as furnished as it had been when it served as her permanent home, only a bedroll and an oil lamp were inside. Scratch had seen the insides before, the woman kept him close by.


    "Let''s see here..." he held up the page with one hand and showed her the cigarette with the other. "Hhm, cursive."


    "Our interception from this morning." Harkness lit the tip of the fag with her finger. "One of the earlier ones must have gotten through, the addressee is a commander approaching the fort for a liberation."


    It''s a lie. Cyclophan stated in a deadpan manner. **They intended for you to intercept that.**


    "It''s a lie." Scratch repeated. "That''s exactly the kind of trick they need to make us move out."


    "How can you be so certain?" She wanted to know.


    "Take a good look at the contents of that letter. What justifies its existence? When they know their communications are being intercepted."


    She scanned it again. It was filled with military formality, nothing urgent or vital for an army that was already well on its way.


    The knights are becoming desperate.


    "The knights are becoming desperate."


    Soon they''ll attempt something drastic.


    "Soon they''ll attempt something drastic."


    More dark magic is in order.


    "More- I think we should be prepared for anything."


    "Yes..." She agreed in principle but didn''t show much urgency. "For now, all their avenues of attack are closed off."


    "If the guy with the hairdo were here," he said, referring to You-There whose hair obscured half his face, "he''d say that that''s where the danger lies. A boxed in enemy is the hardiest."


    "They can''t defeat us in the field." She said. "They can''t contact help or trick us. And they can''t outlast us either."


    His mouth moved to the side of his face. "They''re whittling away at us. Goblins aren''t half as effective trying to fight in this damn heat. Your dad knows exactly when to make his attack."


    "They can do those things repeatedly due to healing magic." She explained. "Their healers'' mana will dry up soon."


    "Just in time for the pyromancer''s to come back." He noted.


    "Yes. If only we''d landed that decisive blow. We-"


    He gave her a stern look and she shut up.


    "Let''s look to the future, not the past." He said. Then he took his cigarette back to his shaded chair.


    -


    Saca had met up with another wolf and they were having their own conversation underneath his spot.


    He didn''t interrupt them and climbed up to continue his conversation with Cyclophan.


    Nothing untoward happening at home? He inquired.


    Your vassals are becoming bolder, but they''re not threatening the dungeon.


    Bolder? Bolder how?


    Claiming territory, resources. Your rules have been disobeyed and adventurers have been executed.


    I see. That''s within reasonable parameters I suppose.


    The underground walls have helped channel the flow of magic better. Except for that infernal dockyard of yours.


    You don''t like the sea port? We need it open to be an alternative smuggle route.


    My magic leaks out.


    Why can''t it leak in? It does with the opening on top.


    It would with a better monster ecosystem. If you gave me a stronger boss on the lower floor, that would guide it in.


    Stronger than the windwolf who lives above?


    Who has been gone for days I should mention.


    You''ll survive. What about Lacrima? Isn''t she raising a stink about the armor being gone?


    She''s distracted. You know those twins that got rid of the other guild leader?


    Yes?


    They''re not too scared of this one either. They''re threatening anyone high or low about finding a magic amulet.


    Well, some good news then.


    For now. I worry about the thieves discovering the dungeon.


    Why?


    Dark sorcerers use dungeons to guard treasure. If they think Lacrima is keeping their bauble here, they might take... measures.


    Measures, huh?


    Yes. Measures. Please come back, bring some stronger monsters, use the devil altar again. I want my dungeon master in my dungeon.


    I don''t want to drag this out too much either. It''ll be one more week, at most.


    <hr>


    The next day Huckabee and Audace rode towards the city of Eston.


    Their carts were second-hand and foreign, thinly painted in more knightly colors, and their horses were low bred plow horses.


    The longer Huckabee sat on the stocky spotted creature the more crude and peasantly it seemed to him. He thought about how out of place he had to seem himself, a slack-jawed yokel in a looted knight''s garb.


    Audace, in contrast, seemed perfectly fitted for a knight''s role. He was tall, broad, and with a silent dignity.


    Perhaps the contrast would make the ruse even more transparent.


    -


    Huckabee forgot his agonizing when he came in view of Eston.


    It had been years since he last saw civilization, and he was in awe at the powerful blocky architecture of Eston''s red bauxite.


    A defensive wall surrounded the city, but it was not tall enough to obstruct the multi-storied buildings from view.


    As far as cities went, Eston wasn''t particularly large, but to Huckabee it was enormous. The amount of people that lived there dwarfed the number of bandits living in the promise many times over, it rivaled the goblins'' numbers in size.


    Audace was completely stoic.


    -


    To load up the knights'' provisions came Mabel and a few of her minions.


    Huckabee was about to dismount but the guild leader hissed angrily at him. "Sit still you imbecile, do you think knights occupy themselves with manual labour? And keep your back straight."


    From a distance children and idle adults had gathered to look at the knights that had come to visit. If they saw anything out of the ordinary it wouldn''t be a problem immediately, but it would create difficult questions later.


    Huckabee waved nervously at the crowd.


    "All done." One of Mabel''s lackeys told her.


    "By Benesant, if we had these crown-backed orders every week we wouldn''t need the guild." She laughed.


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    "Let''s get rid of them quickly." The other said.


    "Wait, one more thing. You two tell Lydia there are high ranking adventurers coming to Eston to visit the witchwood."


    Huckabee racked his brain trying to understand where she was going with this. "...So?"


    "So? So now that there''s a knight fort they''ll probably try making a stop there on the way."


    Huckabee''s face clenched. "Can''t you get rid of them?"


    "Not these ones. You need a cover story to get rid of high-ranking adventurers. We can stall them, but I''d give you three days to disappear. After that, they turn the tide of battle, they flee and alert the town, I don''t know."


    "That... we can''t."


    "You should have known this would happen, you can''t wage a war in secret. Now go."


    -


    The way back was not much different from the way there.


    Although the mission had been completed successfully, Huckabee felt no less anxious.


    "T-that business with the adventurers. It won''t be that big of a problem will it?" He asked Audace.


    "Hhm."


    "I mean, we''ve fought adventurers before. In the camp we always had to kill them before they fled and told the town about it. We can do the same here, right?"


    "Si."


    "Si, so you agree. I mean an army is bigger and noticeable from further away, but in principle it''s the same, right?"


    "Hhm."


    Somehow, he didn''t feel put at ease by his traveling partner.


    -


    When they arrived at the camp they were quickly surrounded by dogs and goblins taking supplies and spreading it around to different siege camps.


    As soon as Huckabee noticed Scratch in the crowd he approached him with a slightly hurried pace and told him what the guild leader had told him.


    "Eh? Thash fine, ishn''t it?" Scratch noted with his mouth full. "We can jush kill em."


    "That''s very much the question." Suddenly Lydia Harkness had appeared next to them. "Normal adventurers have no business in any region overseen by knights. Their mission is either specific or very high level."


    Huckabee flinched. "How high?"


    "In the witchwood? Likely rank C."


    Scratch swallowed his food. "Did you know this could happen when you proposed the strategy?"


    "It was very unlikely. How many days did she give us?" She asked Huckabee.


    "Only three. Do we have to give up the siege now?"


    She shook her head. "If we do that they''ll follow us with a strike force and pick us off while we''re trying to flee."


    Scratch massaged his temples. "I can''t fucking believe this... you people. Listen, we''ll pretend to take the bait, right?"


    "The fake letter?"


    "Right, we act like we''re forming a front against the west, let them ride out. We circle around and surprise their outriders, take a couple of hostages, and use those as a bargaining chip for a safe getaway."


    "Is that viable?" Harkness wanted know.


    "Not as viable as starving them another week, but apparently we don''t have that luxury."


    "Won''t a lot of goblins get killed this way?" Huckabee said.


    Scratch looked at him angrily and turned to leave, off to enact the plan.


    <hr>


    There was a draft in the living quarters above the gathering hall. The construction of the fort had never been completed in full.


    Stella Darcy was feeding her infant mush with a wooden spoon.


    If the goblin threat had been properly assessed they wouldn''t have been here. Generally commanders do not move their families in in any fortress that are at risk of being taken.


    There were approximately fifteen different knight families represented in the Eston fortress.


    Unscarred newly graduated knights carrying the hope for the future of their dynasties.


    And a handful of veteran commanders there to administer the youths'' first genuine missions.


    The man massaging her shoulders, Jacob Darcy, belonged to the second category. A mature and respectable adult, even if he was closer in age to the rookies than he was to her.


    Stella had managed to elevate her station by proving capable as an adventurer and marrying into nobility.


    It''d taken years to turn adventuring into a full-time career, and many perilous adventures to become rank D. By that time she was already middle aged.


    After successfully marrying into knighthood and conceiving a child she could almost be said to be an old woman.


    "Come now Lily, eat up for mama." She sighed.


    The whole army was rationing. Special exceptions could be made for the families of the commanders. But without new supplies what they had was spoiling and she had to feed her baby potato with sugar.


    Lily gagged at first, but overcome with hunger herself she managed to swallow.


    "This cannot go on." She complained.


    "It won''t." Her husband soothed her. "Do you remember my disinformation scheme? It seems to have worked."


    She turned around to face him. "In earnest? The goblins are leaving?"


    He nodded but then added nuance. "A significant portion has broken away to face the western front, the others should not put up as much of a fight to prevent our escape. Likely, the bandits controlling them will be leading the charge west."


    "Won''t they be prepared for us to try something?"


    "Hopefully they''ll expect us to coordinate with the reinforcements, not break away completely."


    His words had too many ''shoulds'' in them to give her confidence, but it was Jacob that had studied as a knight, not her.


    "We''re going to survive this Stella," he assured her, "tomorrow at dawn the entire fortress sets out. The advance riders will raid and pillage their camp for food, and the rearguard will protect you and the other families. You and Lily will never be in danger during all of this, I promise."


    "Thank you Jacob."


    "It''s only my duty."


    She leaned in to kiss his mouth, but he turned his head to plant his lips on her cheek. He''d lost attraction to her, if he ever had it. She felt like an ancient crone when he did that.


    -


    Sure enough, early in the morning all residents of the fortress were summoned together in the main hall.


    "Listen up!" Captain Harkness declared. He couldn''t use his voice amplifying magic in fear the enemy would hear it, so he had to shout his throat hoarse trying to make himself heard over the rumble of the crowd. "Everybody quiet!"


    The young adults fell silent at his furious rage.


    "Today is a chance for you lot to finally be heroes. The enemy is distracted and we will launch a full-on assault. Enough for sick and wounded to escape."


    "We''re sacrificing our lives to at least save the women and children, is that it?" One of the men not that far from Stella commented, not that far below speaking volume.


    "Don''t question the captain," his neighbor hissed at him.


    "Now comes the measure of a true man!" The captain continued, picking up on the thread. "To put oneself at risk for the safety of the meek and vulnerable is the exaltation and purpose of any true knight. Those that fight here today.


    Whether they live or die. Will have proven themselves men."


    His speech left out the female population of knights, which made up almost half its number. But in front of him the chest of James Rochast, one of the rookies, swelled with pride. This was his chance to become a hero. If he died, that would only be more heroic.


    Hopefully his death would not be at the hands of some goblin grunts, but against a bandit general. Although... if he were to fight a general he''d rather win.


    "We will form three attack squadrons, and one escort squadron." The captain droned on while pacing in front of the knights. "I will divide you now. Rochasts."


    He pointed at James and Fiona. "You two will be escorts."


    "Wait a minute!" James fell out.


    "Do not question me. On to the next, first squadron..."


    Unperturbed the captain continued to assign roles. Leaving the belligerent youth will balled-up fists from anger.


    -


    The others were jealous of them, but Fiona knew James wanted to challenge Harkness on the assigned roles. So she held on to his shoulder after the speech to keep him nearby.


    James unceremoniously pushed her away and followed the commander into a private hallway.


    "What is-"


    The captain pulled out a knife, seemingly out of nowhere and pushed it against the youth''s throat, pushing him against the wall. "Do you know I could have you executed for insubordination, you brat?"


    The brat looked him in the eyes defiantly. "I belong on the attack squad. You''re holding me back from being a hero. Out of some petty-"


    Angrily Harkness bashed his back against the wall and pulled the knife away angrily. "Your parents have suffered enough grief because of me. I won''t let you two die on them as well."


    James gritted "I refuse to live a coward''s life. Our enemy is here right now if we don''t-"


    "It''s not about you." The superior pointed the knife at him. "If you really were a hero your glory would come second to the weak and vulnerable. You''re on the escort team and that''s that. Any more lip and you can be send out as a deserter."


    And that was that. Moments later the Rochasts were riding out in front of Stella and the others to bring them home safely.


    <hr>


    Neither army was a single unified mass.


    The goblins were divided into camps, each guarding territory to zone out the knights and keep them trapped.


    The knights were divided into travelling parties, moving units that took the fight to the enemy.


    The past few days only the mounted cavalry had moved outside the fortress, for quick raids, but now the entire might of the fortress was mobilized at once.


    Three attack squadrons, each containing many dozens of knights, with a variety of skillsets, spread out towards the east. They set out to chase away the entrenched enemy to the left and the right, opening a path for their fourth party to escape through.


    Meanwhile, the northern and southern camps were uprooting and moving east to help the temporarily weakened easter camp.


    And the goblin forces that had started the day moving to the west were actually moving to the north and around the fortress. They hadn''t expected their enemy to completely abandon their position and were still cautious of the space controlled by the fortress.


    In order to bite at the heels of the outgoing heavy infantry and lure back the cavalry to be trapped between the camp and the moving goblin throng, the warg riders sped ahead to where they expected the backline of the human army to be.


    It was to their surprise that they found the Rochasts escorting non-combatants.


    -


    It was early and the sun shone in the eyes of both goblin and wolf when they came near the human silhouettes.


    Two mounted figures were etched clearly against the white morning sun, the others showed a more blobby and bulky mess of shadows, a background of carts and mules.


    "Are you lost?" Scratch wondered out loud. "Or did the army send out its supply train by accident?"


    "Isn''t that voice...?" The female knight began. "... you know, their commander."


    "They all look the same." The man said dismissively.


    "No, no. With the eyepatch, he''s the one that burned down our payload. I''m certain of it."


    "I see... then it''s time for payback."


    "Can''t we go around them?" Fyro whispered in Scratch''s ear.


    "Why would we?" Scratch said out loud. "Don''t stick to an old plan when a better opportunity presents itself. Bullying these losers has all the same effects we''re looking for, and it''s easier."


    He wasn''t paying attention to his front, but he hardly needed to, since his mount made all the decisions for him. She deftly stepped aside when the man came barging through thrusting pointed weapon as tall as a man.


    A hot gust of air shook the goblins as James Rochast and his fiery lance thundered between them.


    "Christ! Did you feel that? You''d lose your hand just touching it." Scratch yelled out. "And I don''t have the fire thing, damn. I was so happy with the microphone I let them take it off me."


    "Dammit, stand still!" The lance-wielding knight traced figures eight through the scattered warg riders trying to pin them. Propelled by the primal fear of fire the wolves jumped and scurried out of the way.


    In the panicked dance the goblins were hardly able to properly aim their slings and crossbows, what did by chance fly in the right direction was shrugged off by the knight''s steel plating.


    "They''re evasive!" Fiona laughed at him. "This is when you use your magic. See here!" She spread out her arms beside her body and mumbled something to the effect of ''Rhada''s cage''. Rotating circles of runes appeared beneath her, and a number of red lines began to snake over the ground, shooting yellow flame into the air wherever they went.


    Where the lines intersected boxed in areas were created, trapping several goblins in tiny cells.


    "Hey, let us go!" Second demanded.


    "Shut up." James let go of his lance with his left hand and lifted it up for a spell. "Finally we get to kill something."


    Scratch''s amplified voice boomed behind them. "Didn''t you forget something?"


    Some quick side glances confirmed that they had not been ambushed or snuck up on, so with unfettered focus the knights maintained their magic. James began his mumbling, "Dronk-"


    "Hey wonder twins!" He was louder this time and emphasized his words by amplifying the crying sound of an infant through the spellrod.


    That caught their attention and they turned around.


    Wendy sat on top of one of the younger kids, her claw pushing her head into the grass. He had stuck his microphone towards the old mother, Stella, whose infant was bawling her eyes out. "Yeah. A hostage, maybe pay more attention next time." He was barely looking at them, busy giving the other non-combatants the stink eye to dissuade them from doing anything heroic.


    The siblings looked at each other uneasily. They didn''t really believe that the goblin was going to let the civilians live, but perhaps something could be done to save them if they let it believe they were going along with the plan.


    "Now you''re getting it," Scratch smiled, "if the tool you have doesn''t work you use something else. The goal is to immobilize more that it is to bleed anyway."


    James raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking abou-" Immediately he was struck in the head by a bolas that spun over his eyes. The goblins had flourished their enveloping weapons and were pelting the two with an overkill of bolases and nets.


    The fire cage disappeared and they quickly moved in to properly tie them up and prevent further magic from being cast.


    -


    There was nowhere on the flat open plain for anybody to run.


    The two escort knights were tied up and the mules had been disconnected from their carts.


    The civilians had been captured.


    Now it was only a matter of making them understand that.


    The average child was on equal strength to a goblin, and most spouses were ex-adventurers themselves. Sure, the goblins had their wolves, but the humans were with more.


    "Got off me!" The kid that had just been pinned by a wolf demanded as she tore herself away from Fyro''s grip and added herself to the huddle of defiant hostages.


    "In a few minutes a warband of more than a hundred bloodthirsty goblins is going to arrive." Scratch moved his hands excessively while talking. "What do you want to be, a prisoner or an enemy combatant?"


    "You stay away from us." A man said. "And you let those two knights go."


    "Or. What?" Scratch asked, making it sound like a genuine, and rather desparate question. Wendy growled to help him intimidate. "What room can you possibly have to make demands?"


    He didn''t answer and Scratch sighed in desperation. "Fine. Let''s make an example out of someone. Second, hand me a crossbow."


    A crossbow appeared in his hand and he fired it directly into the crowd, striking the man who''d just spoken in the shoulder. The man grunted through clenched teeth.


    "I don''t enjoy this you know. I don''t think it''s fun." He fired another bolt, this one missed completely. "But if you''re not afraid of me, what am I supposed to do, huh?"


    His random shooting into the huddled mass caused them to panic and disperse, allowing the goblins to grab them individually and tie them up.


    "Well, all''s well that ends well." He decided. "Any healers in this crowd? I think the guy with the big mouth can use one."


    Suddenly a powerful bang eminated from between the humans, Fyro lay on the ground clutching his chest as the elderly mother held her baby away from him.


    One of her legs was lifted up and exposed underneath her long skirt. It''d had just collided with a goblin''s ribcage at high speed, cracking it like a walnut.


    "Fyro!" Second rushed up to the younger goblin. "No Fyro! Where''s that healer?! There''s a healer here, kill them if they don''t heal him!"


    "Hah!" The mother boasted. "It may have been a long time ago, but I was an adventurer once. A martial artist. Don''t underestimate a mother''s-"


    Four crossbow bolts shot into her torso in quick succession, a fifth one entered her eye not long after. She was dead before shit the ground, the infant made an ugly fall and hurt something, but it couldn''t possibly be crying any harder than it already was.


    Second turned Fyro over on his back, trying to inspect the damage. Fyro''s eyes were starting to glaze over as he searched with his hand to find comfort. "I... can''t breathe..."


    "Help him!" Second demanded. "Somebody help him!"


    The humans were concerned with their own dying and her child, while the goblins stood around akwardly.


    Scratch kneeled down next to the two and held on to Fyro''s flailing hand. "Shhh."


    "Papa..." Fyro suddenly used the term of endearment his younger siblings used on him. "Papa... I can''t see anything... up ahead. It''s so dark."


    Scratch looked at Second and then back at him. "It is dark, but some of your uncles..." he hesitated in completing the story, "some of your uncles have gone ahead. They''re lighting a big fire, making camp... Right, second?"


    Second nodded. "That''s right. First, and Teeth... you don''t know them but- but there''s Dumb, and you''ll meat Scream,


    Laugh and Digger again, right?"


    Fyro was silent, dead.


    Now that the consciousness was gone Scratch had no sympathy for the lifeless body and promptly stood up.


    Second stayed behind to cry.


    The goblin patriarch walked up to the man who''d picked up the infant and ripped it out of his hands. He was the weaker person, but having just witnessed death the other was slightly listless. Though others gasped with protective instincts.


    "Two deaths for this thing huh?" He scoffed. "How old is it? It hasn''t been baptized yet, has it?" Then he gave it to Wendy. "Can you hold this without eating it?"


    The wolf took the scruff of the infant''s cloth gently in its maw, but immediately delegated the task to the first packmate she saw.


    "Monster!" James Rochast yelled at him. "You vile creature you-"


    Scratch walked up to him real close and leaned into his personal space, inspecting him top to bottom. "Why do you seem so familiar to me?" He then took some distance and held a wolf''s tail in front of the man''s face, obscuring the eyes. "I see... Lydia will be riding in soon, along with our main force."


    The knight''s eyes widened and his jaw clenched.


    War Negotiation


    All battles between civilized people end with negotiations. Once the outcome of an all-out struggle is understood, rather than fight to the bitter end the two sides work out their differences based on the established power dynamic.


    Negotiation between sides in a battle falls upon the highest ranking acting commanders. Generally, adventurers recruited into the war effort are not authorized to speak on behalf of the liege.


    Only because of the honorable nature of noble houses can agreements made during warfare be trusted. Prisoners are exchanged, the dead are buried, and the defeated army can be allowed passage home through contested territory without fear of trickery or double-crossing.


    In contrast, battles with intelligent but monstrous armies can not end in negotiations. Because neither side can suffer the other to live, battles are fought until one army is exterminated.

 Ending Things

    The situation being what it was both armies had decided to flee the contested area.


    The goblins had captured the treasures of the human army, but that wouldn''t win them the war.


    Currently the entire force of still living knights that had come to the Eston fields was in the field and ready for battle.


    The goblins, caught in the burning summer sun, wouldn''t be able to wage an extended battle against the entire army.


    They''d planned to ambush an unsuspecting strike force, not catch out an overextended army.


    Already the camps were being rolled up and packed up into caravans, making stalling tactics untenable.


    "A pity isn''t it?" You There smiled lackadaisically. "Had you properly anticipated their despair, we would have had the means to eradicate the whole army by now."


    Scratch scowled at him sideways. "Let''s just be happy we had to sacrifice less than we expected. We''ll make a cleaner getaway this way. Keep an eye on the child, I don''t want the bandits to see."


    The demon shrugged and left him alone to explain the situation to Lydia Harkness, the bandit leader and the pedestrian army had just caught up to them.


    -


    "So we stay behind to do the peace talks," Scratch summarized, "we should be able to catch up with the rest afterwards. What with the dogs and all."


    "Yes. I mean no. It has to be me." Lydia Harkness was distracted. They were discussing the matter in the open air on the dewy grass. She kept glancing over to where the prisoners were held.


    Scratch was not amused. "You know, I''m not by nature a jealous guy, but you''re busting me up over here."


    She avoided eye contact. "I don''t know what you''re talking about."


    "If you''re going to lie, lie convincingly. Jimmy Fire rod over there is exactly the incubus plus a bunch of years. Refresh my memory because I''m pretty sure that form comes from your mind."


    "It''s... nothing. It would be better for him if we never spoke again." She grunted.


    "How goddam reassuring." Scratch trumpeted sarcastically. "Not my business I suppose."


    "It has to be me because they would not even speak to you," the bandit leader quickly returned to her original topic.


    "Goblins are considered monsters, they''d kill you on sight."


    "And it''s different for bandits?"


    She was silent for a bit. "I was one of them once. They might grant me the courtesy."


    "And if they don''t?"


    "Then we die together."


    He bit on his fist. Looking at the slight bump in her stomach it looked like there was another litter of hobgoblins on the way. With her, four other lives would be snuffed out.


    "Scratch... I''m sorry." She suddenly said.


    "Huh, what?"


    "I blamed you for engaging with the enemy to early. But in truth, it was my strategy that was flawed. Besieging a fort in enemy controlled land."


    He sniffed. "Don''t apologize to me. We''re a team, right? Then it''s my fault as well for going along with it. But assigning blame is something children do, instead, let''s plan for midday."


    <hr>


    Three attack squadrons had gone ahead to clear the way for the payload.


    The encampment they found was nowhere near as anemic as they''d expected, the human cavalry clashed against an unbreakable mass of bodies.


    Thinking quickly captain Maurice Harkness used his sound amplifying magic and commanded the forces to come together into a single mass, turtling up with two lines of shield bearers and keeping the enemy at bay with liberal volleys of arrows.


    Typically of a goblin throng many of the light infantry jumped bullheadedly into the line of fire, sapping their own numbers but also putting pressure on the knights and preventing their advance.


    "It looked like Darcy''s plan failed." Bill Rocksteady shouted at him over the sound of battle.


    "Don''t waste your time stating the obvious!" He returned.


    Rocksteady had saved his life during the encounter with Lydia, and it''d gone straight to his head. He was flouting rank and opinionating on everything.


    "Me and my cousins can blast a hole!" He yelled. "With a few explosions we''ll drive apart the goblin line and get to their other side."


    Annoyed Maurice spurred his horse to get next to Bill''s and grabbed him roughly by the vest. "Listen to me. The plans have changed. We''re waiting for the Rochasts to catch up. Then we escort the baggage train as a single army. So save your mana."


    The younger man had a big unconcerned smile on his face. "No problem sir, I can wait. Don''t know about the shield bearers having to hold position against a goblin throng though."


    "We have the advantage. The wall is strong, as long as we''re not boxed in..." He let go and looked over his shoulder.


    "...not boxed in..."


    "Sir? What''s wrong?"


    "Damn it all. Why didn''t I realize before?" Maurice spurred on his horse and turned around towards the back line, nearly trampling his own men. He pointed at his rear commander. "Jacob Darcy! Eyes to the east, the goblin army is approaching."


    "I was about to report that." He called back. "How did you know?"


    With the sun in their back an ominous mass of silhouettes darkened the horizon. A rolling wave of gleeful destruction.


    "That''s not our baggage." He grunted when meeting up with the other officer. "You''ve landed us in hot fire Jacob.


    They''ve caught us out in the open and now they''re cutting off our backfoot."


    "Are you saying... Stella." He spurred his mount but Harkness pulled on his reins, keeping him close.


    "They''re dead Jacob. If their scouts didn''t get them they stalled them enough for the army to catch up. We have to prepare for a rear attack."


    He prepared his magic again.


    -


    In mere minutes the entire knight army was able fall back and adjust their formation.


    In order to not be caught between two armies they moved to the north, pushing more against goblin positions there and allowing space for the southern flank of the goblins to move in.


    This way the two sides turned around each other, like two sword fighters in a duel.


    When the main force of goblins arrived they could no longer engage with the humans on two fronts, instead they had to clash into the knight army from the south with the others as a single army.


    <hr>


    "Wait, are we surrendering?" Huckabee had returned to the back lines to have his wounds treated and saw his boss attach white linen to a pole into a makeshift flag.


    "The white flags signifies peace talks." She explains. "An army can''t just retreat, we need their permission to turn our backs to them safely."


    "Daddy Harkness should let us go in exchange for the Brady bunch." Scratch added, his meaning slightly gleanable from context.


    Huckabee had a glazed over slack-jawed expression. "... and what if he doesn''t?"


    Scratch exhaled through his nose. "Of course he will, what ch-"


    "He might." Lydia Harkness stated. "In that case Scratch and I will die, and the two armies will eradicate each other until only a handful of survivors are left."


    "What? I didn''t sight up for that!" Scratch exclaimed.


    "It all depends on the decision of Maurice Harkness." she sighed, "Whether he values honor over life."


    "Nah, I don''t believe that." Scratch puffed. "These narratives of honor, compassion, they''re only tools to maintain power. Your father is a leader? Then he wields them, he isn''t wielded by them."


    "You really believe that?" Huckabee asked.


    "It''s the truth."


    The bandit leader ran her hand through the goblin''s hair. "I suppose we have to hope he''s more cynical than we thought."


    "You make it sound more chancy with every word."


    -


    Chancy or not, the plan was executed. Before sunset the goblin army had fallen back and an envoy waving a large white flag was left behind in the open space.


    No hobgoblins or bandit guards were included in the diplomats. Only Harkness, Scratch, some wolves and the foundling, Pentajo, who took care of the canines. They were wholly unguarded, except against the rain, which they had anticipated with a simple tent roof.


    "If you don''t recognize it. It''s a negotiation flag." Scratch''s voice boomed over the rolling hills. "We have some people you might like back."


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Lydia Harkness took away his spellrod and turned it to herself. "Maurice Harkness, king''s knight, commander of the eastern embers, you must speak for the future of your comrades and the peace of the realm."


    "Wow, is that some sort of official phrase."


    "Something like that."


    "I think that''s the longest sentence I ever heard you speak."


    The commanding voice of Maurice Harkness sounded back, commanding his army not to advance.


    "It worked." She gave Scratch back his spellrod. "Get ready, let me do the talking."


    -


    Four horseback riders rode out to meet the envoy in-between the armies. Chief among them was captain Harkness instead, though they recognized the pyromancer William Rocksteady ass well.


    "We do not recognize the right of bandits to negotiate peace." The elder Harkness spat from horseback.


    "But we recognize yours." The younger one said as calmly as she could manage. "We believe you might want to make use of it."


    "We could take you prisoner." He stated.


    "For what? Another negotiation? Who would come to negotiate for us? If you attack negotiators."


    With her use of the word ''us'' his eyes scanned around and found Scratch, who gestured welcomingly. "How about we get you out of the rain?"


    Bill Rocksteady was already dismounting, when Maurice looked at him sternly, he laughed, "come now sir, I do not think they are able to threaten us."


    Reluctantly the captain dismounted and sought shelter inside the tent, though he unsheathed his blade and kept it in his hand.


    The others followed his example.


    "Fiona and James were captured alive." Lydia stated upfront. "But Darcy''s wife resisted and was killed.... alongside their daughter.


    Maurice grinded his teeth. "I will believe Stella''s death was in battle. Lily''s... not so much. Tell me, what do you expect in return for these people''s lives? And if it helps you achieve victory, why would we want to save them now just so they can die later?"


    "We would like to avoid unnecessary death." She stated harshly through her teeth. "The deal is for both armies to retreat. No raiding, no chasing, no skirmishing. The prisoners will be released unharmed at the forest''s edge. To make their own way towards the nearest town."


    "Avoid death? You marched an army here just to kill us."


    "To destroy. The fortress. We know why you came here. Do not play ignorant."


    Now the captain was fuming. "How noble of you Lydia! Breeding an army of subhuman monsters, slaughtering good men and women to save your own disgraced life." He pointed at Scratch and Pentajo. "The clergy warn of champions of evil defying the will of the gods in these parts. You know why we came here? Do you? To vanquish evil."


    Lydia''s body stiffened in returned anger. "For my own life! How dare you! For years I''ve lived... for years! As an outcast. But I''ve never. Never put my own life above- Like it was easy! But-" She stammered, unable to properly articulate herself through her anger.


    He pointed his sword at her threateningly. "Where is that demon kid, huh? That I saw you with. Have you been spending you nights alone repeating the same rancid sin again and again?"


    She leaned towards him, almost impaling her throat on his sword herself with how close she got. "That is none of your business."


    "You-" He lifted his sword to strike out in anger, but was interrupted by Scratch speaking into the spellrod.


    "Hold it right there. Let''s all take a deep breath, huh?" A deafening sound blasted directly into their ears. He lowered the rod and shook his head dissapointedly. "You meat heads. This isn''t the thanksgiving dinner table, we''re here for a peaceful discussion."


    "You are the creature declared an enemy of Benesant, aren''t you?" Maurice Harkness rasped slowly.


    "He looks like a regular goblin to me." Rocksteady said with his arms folded over one another.


    Scratch gently pulled on Lydia''s shirt to push her aside, "I think Benesant would agree that peace is preferable to war. Wouldn''t she?"


    Now the knight pointed his weapon at him. "The deaths of our kind must be repayed in kind."


    "In kind huh? How much goblins for one human? Three to one? Or does it not come out so neatly? Maybe you can kill of some of your least favorite, to make it a whole number, and we''ll parade ours out in ritual sacrifice for your appeasement.


    "Rah!" Maurice stabbed the ground in front of Scratch violently, almost making Lydia jump to his defense. "You make a mockery of this negotiation."


    "I make a mockery of you, Maurice, and this bean counter morality. How can you live your life like that? Balancing some invisible scale that doesn''t affect anything. There''s more important things in life than rules and dead people!" He paused dramatically to let the profundity sink in.


    Captain Harkness frowned and spoke softly. "It''s because your heart is cold for the living that it can be cold for the dead. It is easy to be merciful for a monster without love."


    "Yeah, well.." Scratch was hit out of left field. "Anyway that''s not why we''re here."


    Lydia came to his defense. "How dare you judge us? All of you? You haven''t lived among us. You do not know our lives."


    "You''re no mystery Lydia." William Rocksteady quipped from the side.


    Scratch sighed. "Listen, Maurice. It may not seem like it, but you have all the power. What happens next depends on you, either we both go our separate ways, or we destroy each other. It''s your call."


    The man looked down on him in pure disgust. "Ugh."


    <hr>


    Huckabee was the first of the humans among those eating to notice his boss returning. "And?"


    "And. We''re still alive, so it worked." Scratch stated.


    "We''re leaving immediately." Harkness ordered. "Once we reach the forest I want you and Audace to stay behind with the prisoners. We''ll undo their bindings when I''ll arrive."


    "Why? Where are you going?"


    "Destroying the fortress. That''s what this whole war was about in the first place."


    Scratch nodded. "By the time they''ve rebuild we''ll have strengthened our borders properly."


    -


    The humans kept to the arrangement and moved away. Cautious at first, expecting a double-cross they stayed in formation while backing away. But seeing the goblins properly leave they relaxed their attitude and began a proper march east, towards Eston.


    The goblin army split apart again, with a small force of bandits going off to sack and burn the abandoned fortress, and the main army escorting the baggage train, which included the prisoners.


    A long line of bound humans were being dragged along by the beasts of burden. The two protectors in front.


    The hobgoblins were marching nearby, holding their spears and keeping an eye on them.


    "You won''t get away with this." James Rochast spat at Scratch, who was lifting on one of the food carts and eating an apple.


    "With what, sparing your life?" He said mockingly.


    "We''ll repay you for this humiliation." The sister, Fiona, fell in with her brother.


    "If you do that, we''ll repay you for your repayment!" Ada ran up to loudly declare.


    "Not unpunished." Fiona immediately returned.


    Scratch threw his apple core at her head, it missed. "Why are you threatening my family in front of me? Where the hell were you educated?"


    "Your victory hasn''t made us peers, goblin." James remarked. "We owe you no politeness."


    "I''m not talking about-" Scratch sighed. "You have to have some concept of- I mean it''s not for my sake is it? It''s for your own."


    James glared at him. "Are you threatening us?"


    "No... Actually yes. If you threaten my daughter again, I''ll have you fucking gutted. How''s that?"


    "Then fight me as a man." James demanded. "A one on one duel to the death."


    Scratch looked at him up and down. "You were molested as a child, weren''t you?"


    The knight sputtered, clearly hit out of left field.


    "I mean everybody else has the dumb martial honor shit going on, but you''re really going all out. A fucking duel, really? Are you sure that''s manly enough?"


    "James, don''t listen," his sister insisted, "he''s trying to rile you up."


    "Rile you up? What are you now? Riled down?" Scratch laughed.


    Ada laughed too and poked them with her spear, but he gestured for her to stop.


    Leaning in, he took a more serious tone. "If you''re going to be soldiers, you''re going to have to get used to not being in control. If that stirs your mental trauma or whatever, then you can''t be one- Don''t interrupt me." He raised his voice to speak over Fiona''s attempt at an interruption. "You can''t be one. Live with it."


    The brother was stunned into silence by his words, the sister became more indignant. Accusations of "Who do you think you are?" came flying but Scratch was satisfied with his verbal put down and ended the conversation on his own terms, simply walking away.


    <hr>


    Rather than expose the location of the most outer goblin village the army stopped when the first trees came in sight and set up a temporary camp.


    There they planned on waiting until the bandits had caught up to them.


    Long before the silhouettes of the humans ever came into view a pillar of black smoke darkened the horizon, rising up from where the fort had stood.


    When Lydia Harkness and the others did arrive they were barely even noticed, slipping into the swirling hordes of goblins without friction.


    It did not escape Aimone how easily they fit in with the monster army. "It''s a dark thought, that we should be given to the wilderness." He pondered, not moving from his saddle.


    Harkness, who had already dismounted, took his words seriously. "We''ve drawn a line in the sand today. The goblin nation has been revealed to the world. Between humanity and goblins, we''re on the goblins'' side."


    "The force of the crown is not the force of humanity." Aimone snapped at her. "I mean managgia, the goblins are just a means on end, aren''t they?"


    "I don''t think the boss feels about it like that." Gildo quipped. "After all, she has goblins in her family non ¨¨ vero?"


    She touched her stomach, which had swelled dramatically in a day. "We have been promised more than safety, we''re promised a future. And we''re building it together."


    "Ugh." Aimone stared out discontent over the masses of half feral subhumans. Building a new future did not sound appealing to him at all, he wanted his old future back.


    -


    With the surviving troops reunited, they could move on and back home.


    In accordance with the agreements to the knight army the prisoners would be left behind where they were camped, to find their own way towards Eston.


    As Huckabee put it, this was a ''rank F'' area, meaning that no serious threats to their person were around to harm them.


    Spurred on by his demonic helped, Scratch breached the subject of the prisoners again with Harkness.


    "So... uh... last chance to talk to them."


    "What?" She was distracted with the clasps on her saddle at the time.


    "The two youngsters with the fire magic, you clearly have some... I don''t know what you''d call it... history, with them.


    Once we leave you''ll probably never see them again."


    She stopped, but she did not turn to look at him. "killing the caravan wouldn''t have made the difference for the enemy to agree to a truce. Least of all the combatants among them."


    "Yeah, so?"


    "Did you let them live for my sake?"


    He laughed. "I let them live for the same reason I let the exterminators off. It''s not one army, it''s an entire kingdom. We don''t want to give them any reason to- hey? What''s wrong?"


    She had turned around, her eyes were red from tears held back. "I can''t face them Scratch. I can''t. I''m not-"


    "Come here." He gestured for her to kneel down to him, when she didn''t he repeated himself more insistently. "Come here."


    She brought herself to his level and he cleaned her face with his sleeve. "You know what I loathe? Guilt. It doesn''t do anything, it traps you in the past, right?"


    She turned her head to look away, but he grabbed her and turned her towards him.


    "Remember how you promised me to value your own life? Now I catch you filling it up with self-loathing."


    She looked him straight in the eye. "Scratch, I know your believes. I know you think sins of the past should just be forgotten, but as a servant of the gods-"


    "Lydia. Do not punish yourself. Don''t. What kind of example are setting for our kids, huh?"


    She pulled herself away from him. "Well, what do you want me to do?"


    "We''re going to talk to James right now, and you''re going to put this whole thing behind you."


    "How?"


    -


    The prisoners were tied together to a lone standing tree.


    The army was already moving away and they were waiting to be untied.


    Lydia Harkness approached the group with long paces and a body rendered stiff through nerves.


    She stopped directly in front of James Rochast, she turned around for moral support and saw Scratch stick up his thumb.


    Then, speaking loud and fast in order to not be interrupted, she emptied her heart out to the younger man.


    "James. I''m sorry for what I did when we were kids. It was wrong and I was wrong. But I''m no longer willing to think of myself as a monster for it. And I won''t live like one anymore either."


    The knight was stunned. "...Right." He brought forth.


    She turned around and left just as quickly as she could.


    Her body was still tense, but her face showed a relieved smile and genuine tears.


    <hr>


    Stripped Titles


    Nobles that fall to fail to live up to the standard expected of nobility in ways that can not be ignored are stripped of their titles.


    The pedigree and symbols of status of that individual are systematically destroyed, and they are deprived of the privileges of their house.


    The most common coarse of action for these nobles is to take their own life, but some become beggars or adventurers.


    Though uncommon, it is possible for an entire family to fall. When a noble family mismanages its resources to such a degree that they must be disbanded, or when criminal corruption has seeped into their numbers to such a degree that none can be said to be untouched.


    Although a fallen noble may no longer claim the title of their house, they are often referred to as such by adventurers in order to convey their potential. A former knight will likely be able to work themselves up to D rank in the adventurer''s guild, a baron rank C, and so forth. Fallen nobles are not likely to be able to marry back into nobility after attaining a high adventurer rank.


    Nobles that are accused of particularly offensive crimes, those that can be said to have fallen to evil, are stripped not just of their title, but of their citizenship. These nobles are banished into the wilds to fend for themselves and be killed by monsters. The rare few that survive become bandit bosses, challenging fights for adventurers to face.


    Naturally, the challenge rating of a former noble bandit depends on their former title.

 New Life

    Returning to their territory, the goblin army gradually broke apart as members split off to return to their respective homes.


    Arriving at the promise, the main family found themselves still sporting a retinue of unshed fighters.


    "What''s going on, are you lost?" Scratch scratched his head looking around at the strangers loitering in front of the gate.


    "They''re curious," Second explained, "they haven''t seen the Promise before."


    "Fine, I guess it''s an open tour day. But we''ll have them pull out these potatoes too. I think they''ll rot if they stay underground any longer."


    Second took the lead administering the visitors, while Scratch immediately descended into the dungeon.


    -


    Over time the dungeon had grown into quite a pathway.


    At the back of the half-finished mansion a door led into a cozy and furnished wooden living room. A trapdoor at the back led through a decorated underground hallway, which tapered down towards a large cave opening.


    There, a steep staircase downwards delivered the traveler into the wolf den. The ground there being covered with a wooden wooden floor, designed with circular openings onto the rock, for the wolves'' bedding and storage. It was slightly cramped and over-populated.


    At the back of this space a pulley system moved a platform up and down. From there one could be lowered many stories onto a wide open drip stone cavern. There a series of elevated paths led through the forest of stalagmites, all over the area. Towards the far clay stone walls, or past the large orange furnace and devil altar to where the dungeon was once again exposed to the open air. The foamy sea banks.


    This area had undergone some change while they were gone. In accordance with Scratch and Harkness'' plan the wood plank path had been expanded into a broad road, following and slightly overhanging the edge of the water. A dockyard on which dinghy''s could be moored.


    Currently no dinghy''s or other vessels where present and the only activity was a from a few young goblins hammering in the last planks of the space.


    Barbara was there, keeping an eye on them.


    As soon as she noticed Scratch she pulled up her long skirt and rushed towards him. "Ah, you''re back. Please tell me everyone made it out okay."


    "Of course not everybody made it out okay... but most of us did. You could call it a stand still, but I suppose we achieved what we set out to do."


    "Now tell me what the purpose is of this thing," she insisted.


    He put a cigarette in his mouth. "I thought you''d realized. After this battle we can''t keep a low profile anymore, moving smuggling carts in and out of Eston from the forest will be impossible once they know we live here."


    She looked out over the waters. "So then ships..."


    "It''s a big project, but luckily we had the foresight to start it early," Scratch muttered through his pressed lips, "the thieves'' guild already uses ships. I''m sure they have the connections for regular loading and unloading. Now that I think about it... we promised some of the bandits a return to society, perhaps they could be fisherman."


    "Former bandits are usually unwilling to associate with the guild," Barbara said, "they are scared about losing their second chance. You''ll really lose them, I think that''s why Fyro was so hesitant."


    "Hhm... only special favors then?"


    "Pretty much. Say, how long until we can start using this place."


    He thought for a bit. "Not too much longer. After the chaos of battle it''ll be a few weeks before the state really clamps down on the situation, so we have time."


    "But then you want me to move here?"


    "It''s up to you where you live, but we''ll still be needing your shop at the surface. That''s where the smugglers from outside the country will be loading and unloading after all, not to forget goblin products once I can get them to develop their commerce."


    "Goblin products?" She seemed amused at the preposterous idea.


    He took the cigarette out of his mouth, having never lit it. "You do understand what''s happening, don''t you? I''m giving the smuggling to you. That was my promise, wasn''t it? When this becomes the smuggling epicenter you''ll be the new Fyro."


    She looked at him with big eyes but then regained her posture. "... Yeah, no, I knew that."


    "Good. Whenever it''s convenient go topside and talk to Stan. We''re setting him free."


    <hr>


    With the cavern cleared of onlookers the goblin patriarch could safely retreat to his devil altar, where You There was patiently waiting with the child in a vice grip.


    The infant was suffering greatly but prevented from screaming by the demon''s fist in its toothless mouth.


    Scratch raised an eyebrow as he lit his cigarette. "What are you doing?"


    "I''m doing as you commanded master. Having concealed the sacrifice I brought it here for your use."


    "No. I mean why are you holding it like that?"


    You''re crueller than I thought, Scratch, the evil god whispered into his mind, even most champions of evil don''t leave babes in the hands of demons. They''re sadists to the core.


    Scratch sighed, blowing the luminescent smoke up to the roof of the tent. "Hand it over."


    You There callously tossed the baby into Scratch''s arms. "As you command."


    Cursing, he fumbled to get a proper hold of it.


    As soon as it was released from You There''s painful grasp it began to loudly wail.


    The high-pitched painful shrieking echo''ed all throughout the caverns.


    "Ugh," Scratch complained, "what do I do now?"


    Lay her down on the altar.


    As soon as he did the infant calmed down and began to stare blankly into space.


    "Do you have a ceremonial dagger at hand?" The demon inquired.


    "It''s not a blood sacrifice," he insisted, "it''s an evolution."


    It''s not evolution, it''s metamorphosis.


    What''s the difference?


    This human hatchling is not yet blessed with any god''s protection, we can therefore freely change her form. But my powers of evolution can only evolve her into a similar, humanoid creature. I could make her a witch, or an oni, but something like a goblin is just too different. To do that I need your help, it''s a devil altar ritual.


    "I stole the girl to make it one of us." Scratch summarized to the demon. Now tell me what I need to do.


    First off, what sort of subhuman do you want?


    I have a choice?


    This one has the divinity of a knight, that is the point at which your species begins to diverge. The ogres continue the progression of the hobgoblins, becoming stronger in both body and magic. But there are also trolls, who lose their mana in exchange for a complete focus on physical might. You''ve met trolls in those deeper caves, they can crush granite with their fists.


    I remember, those gorilla creatures. But those are dumb animals.


    Goblins in the wild are not usually very sophisticated either. I estimate that she will come out equally strong, no matter which choice you make. The relevant distinction is future generations.


    What do you mean?


    Once the hatchling becomes a subhuman it will begin to rapidly grow. Soon she will be ready to procreate with captured knights. Her offspring will be of the same branch as herself then.


    I don''t know if it''ll really go that quickly. We''re trying to avoid too many encounters like that.


    Regardless the time involved, once we get our hands on a baron or adventurer of that level, the offspring that comes from them will diverge in different directions depending on the subhuman parentage.


    What on earth are you talking about?


    It''s a diverging path. A population of ogres may bring forth bogeys and eventually darkspawn, while a population of trolls will bring forth ice trolls, dark trolls, or giant trolls.


    Somewhat less creatively named...


    Often monster species that have nowhere left to grow begin to attain what we call ''additions'' when evolving, instead of becoming a wholly different creature, they gain one added trait. Affinity for a certain element, hybridization with a different species, that sort of thing.


    Hhm, well... It''s too early for any of that. I think a troll on our side could help us set up diplomatic relations with our neighbors, give me that.


    In that case, the process is simple. Smear some of your own blood on her forehead, grind up some bone and...


    Cyclophan went through the ceremony. It was indeed rather simple. The most involved part was letting the child stew for six hours on the altar table without it rolling off.


    <hr>


    There were only a select number of goblins in the inner circle that Scratch felt comfortable involving fully into the details of the secret kidnapping.


    While Cyclophan was enacting his arcane rituals, he went up to confer with them.


    "What is this?"


    Having come up from the depths, Scratch was greeted by a large bonfire in the middle of the day.


    Quiet held out his hand and offered him a potato. It was a roasted jacket potato with salt and no butter. "Potatoes are nice to eat."


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    The whole village including the guests had come together in an impromptu potato festival.


    "I''d thought we''d save some in case the winter catches us with out pants down." He tried to grasp the foodstuff but it was piping hot.


    Quiet raised both eyebrows, it was the first he''d heard of anything like that.


    "Look," Scratch wiped his hand on his sleeve, "why don''t you set a couple apart in the storeroom and I''ll talk to the minister of agriculture."


    He wordlessly agreed.


    -


    "No... I had not taken measures to secure rationing," Stanford explained from his seat next to the fire, "had you expected me to?"


    "Hrm, you''re our farming boss, aren''t you?"


    "Oh that is true, you had labeled me as such. I''m not much of a quartermaster, you''ll have to forgive me! Haha!" The bandit laughed off Scratch''s notion of officialism.


    Scratch looked around. "Well... it''s a party. I suppose if i makes them happy the food isn''t wasted."


    "Very true."


    "Did Mabel talk to you?"


    Stanford nodded. "She''s not versed on the process either, but she said she''ll contact the right people for me."


    Scratch plodded himself down next to him. "You''ve got a marketable skill, you''re not violent or unstable. I think you''ll fit right in as a normal citizen. Makes me wonder how you became a fugitive in the first place, actually."


    Stanford sighed. "Usually it isn''t a matter of being desperate or anti-social. Many of us will have just found ourselves on the wrong side."


    He said it with such finality that Scratch agreed to drop the subject. "Fine, don''t tell me," he stretched his body, "man things''ll get harder around here without a healer though."


    "But you will have a healer," Stanford protested, "your own boy."


    "You don''t mean Jasper."


    "Ada and Felix are fighters, but Jasper is a carer, he has the aptitude for it."


    The goblin tilted his head. "Sure they can do some magic, but-"


    "But nothing. The small spells make up the vast majority of the healing practice, look he''s doing it again right now."


    One of the goblins from the war had burned his hand on the fire and had come crying to the three hobgoblins. Jasper immediately patted his head and fixed the burn like an elder brother.


    "I know that one," Scratch commented, "he''s three times his age at least."


    "The promise is build on a dungeon," Stanford explained, "mana refills quickly. I think you''ll have all the healing magic you''ll ever need."


    "The dungeon... will stay a secret won''t it?" The patriarch brought up hesitantly.


    He seemed hurt. "Was that a genuine question? What must you think of me?"


    "Oh I trust you. I also trust that loose lips don''t just step on our toes, but on the guild''s as well. Not to mention how they''d invite some unwelcome follow up questions, right?"


    Stanford leaned into him. "Consider me properly threatened."


    "Nothing personal."


    "Of course not."


    "Here," Scratch picked up a potato being roasted over the fire on a stick, "the next one is on me."


    "Aren''t they free?"


    "That''s because they''re all on me."


    In the end the atmosphere was too jubilant and chaotic to do any plotting. The next morning Scratch and You There had an extra subhuman on their hands without a proper past or future.


    <hr>


    How did it come to this?


    A normal life. That was enough for me.


    To marry a nice girl. Work on the farm. Maybe raise a kid.


    But now...


    [Wow! Rank D! Our Rudy is a Rank D adventurer!]


    [No! This has to be some sort of mistake!] I plead desperately with the receptionist.


    [We. Don''t. Make. Mistakes.] She''s quite direct isn''t she?


    [Wear that badge with pride, Rudy. As my future husband you must reach rank C after all. Puyuu~] Lenore....


    [Rank D... I don''t agree with this at all...] Xandra! The only voice of reason. Please tell them not to make some sort of hero out of me! [When I''m only rank E... I''ll definitely catch up to you Rudy. You hear me? I definitely will!] Noooo....


    [I don''t want to do any more ranking up,] I plead with them, [remember Xandra? We were only doing it for some pocket money for the festival.]


    [Puyuu! Don''t forget about me!] The cat girl puffs up her cheeks and tail. [You''re supposed to marry me Puyuu!]


    [Of course, because Lenore is a baroness, she has to marry a level C or higher adventurer.] Xandra helpfully points out.


    [I have to marry for my family. Puyuu! But I''m not marrying a stuck up spoiled brat, puyuu! It has to be you Rudy, it has to!] She violently shakes me.


    [It''s a good thing you want to progress in your adventuring career,] the reception lady says with an ominously impenetrable smile, [we''ve received a special request for your party. It involves an excursion into a dangerous zone, so it could mean promotion to rank C.]


    Promotion to rank C? I''m not even supposed to be rank D!


    [It''s a request by a local witch, not Reddington nobility, so you are allowed to turn it down,] she explains, [but if you don''t do it, nobody will.]


    She hands Xandra the details of the assignment. Immediately that childhood friend of mine gives me a determined look.


    [No.]


    [Puyuuuuu?]


    Both girls are looking straight at me.


    They''re bringing their faces closer and closer.


    [No.] If I remain resolute long enough they will have to give up.


    Remain... Resolute....


    [OK Fine!]


    [Yaay!] [Hurrray! Puyuu!]


    <hr>


    "Heavens, the poor thing!" Stanford poured over the infant they moment he laid eyes on her.


    What had formerly been a captured human child was in the morning presented to the family as a subhuman monster. Her skin had gone a matte gray, and her eyes had gone a beady black. Small horn tips were already showing at the side of the head.


    Besides the inhuman mutations she was covered in preventable trauma. Bruises and cuts.


    The demon had cheekily claimed that no blame could be assigned to himself. After all, evil was his nature, one could just as soon blame fire for burning or the sun for shining.


    This reasoning didn''t particular appeal to Scratch, he made him stay around the underground surface to shovel coal just not to have to look at him for a while.


    That left him on his own to present the foundling.


    He and some of the more prominent denizens of the promise had collected in the central living room of the cliff side manor, the home for the hobgoblins that was almost completely finished by now.


    "Left to die." He summarized succinctly. "Oh well, one man''s trash..."


    "You can''t possibly be planning to raise it!" Huckabee protested.


    The goblin patriarch showed genuine surprise at this reaction. "Why not?"


    "Trolls are strong." Harkness commented, she wasn''t as strong of a presence as usual, she had to remain seated due to her large pregnant stomach. "When she grows up, she might be stronger than any of us."


    "All the better. We certainly don''t complain about the kids being athletes, right Ada? Show them your muscles."


    Eager to show off Ada flexed her biceps to the group.


    Aimone had his own demurral. "Mannagia, real leader wouldn''t allow this," he cursed at Lydia Harkness, "he''s building up a collection of monsters."


    "Aimone," Scratch looked him straight into the eyes and adopted a serious tone of voice, "are you going to kill this baby?"


    The Grienician hesitated, uncrossing his arms at the thought of having to kill such a vulnerable helpless creature. "That''s- I''m saying we shouldn''t be keeping it."


    "So abandon it and have it die more slowly, is that what you mean?"


    "Pshaw." He turned his back to them and left the conversation.


    "My concern is such..." the bandit leader spoke pointedly to carefully pick her words, "do you know how to raise a child?"


    He frowned at her, he didn''t need to say it out loud. As foster father to a mass of juvenile goblins he felt he deserved some credit in terms of parental experience.


    "Trolls and ogres mature more slowly than goblins," she defended her words, "they''re vulnerable for longer."


    "I do hope," he lifted the infant onto his hip, now that she was healed, "that I can count on all of you to take a part in this. It takes a village and all that..." He played with the kid''s little hands.


    "Of course!" She exclaimed.


    "Did you think of a name?" Huckabee wanted to know.


    "I did not," Scratch retorted, "any suggestions?"


    "It is customary to name a foundling after the place where or the person by whom they were found," Stanford suggested. "To allow them to retrace their origin if they ever so wish."


    "Right. Because they can''t just be told about it." Lydia quipped. "It has to be attached to them wherever they go."


    Huckabee crouched down next to Scratch to play with the baby and booped its nose. "You found her abandoned by trolls in a cave... you could call her Trolly or Ca- AH!" The tiny creatures hand clamped down painfully hard on his finger.


    "I don''t think she likes ''Trolly''." Scratch remarked dryly. "What about you Ada? Do you have an idea?"


    "Huh? No. Brick?"


    "What?"


    "Brick, you know like a brick."


    "Were you just looking at a brick while you said that?"


    "...Yes."


    Scratch sighed. "Let''s keep Brick on the back burner until we come up with something better."


    "Uh... boss?" Aimone humbly stumbled back into the room to pat Harkness on the shoulder. "That woman has returned."


    <hr>


    Lacrima was once again immersed in her kindly grandmother routine.


    It raised some logical inconsistencies that the frail old lady she presented herself as could travel so easily through the dark wilderness. She was fine letting such questions hang in the air, it was not her true intention to completely deceive the bandit troupe, but rather intimidate them with her aura of mystery.


    "A fine home dears," she croaked, claiming the most comfortable spot in the room, "that warms the old bones. I do so feel the autumn creeping up on us once again."


    Ada almost fell out against her, intruding on their home so presumptuously. "What do you-"


    "Why don''t you and the boys-" her father interrupted her "-go to the remembrance tree and help with the red ribbons, huh?" He had taken her aside and whispered insistently.


    He was referring to the tree in the forest that had become a memorial to fallen goblins, after the recent battle adding decorations for every name had become a day-long project for a large goblin troupe.


    "I don''t want to," she said defiantly, "why can she-"


    "I''ll go with."


    He was just about to pull her along when the witch once again asserted her authority.


    "Now now boy, be good and serve us some tea, eh? While I have a talk with your friend here."


    He mouthed ''just go'' to his daughter and the remaining bandits, he had just enough pull to make them clear the house.


    Stanford picked up the troll and Huckabee gently pushed at Aimone''s back.


    After that only Lacrima and the two leaders of the Promise remained in the room.


    -


    "I hear you two have been using my steel." The witch began as she sipped the goblin-made tea, it was luke-warm at best.


    Scratch sat down next to Harkness, who put her hand on his head. "Over the grapevine?" He remarked.


    The bandit leader gave a soothing "Shush" and turned to the other woman, "I trust no obligations have been broken. You commissioned an armored throng. It was established."


    Lacrima set the cup down. "You trust wrongly, love. I may have mentioned goblin sizes, but the armor is meant for my own purposes. If you were to lose that equipment in your own battles, I have no further reason to protect you, is that clear?"


    Scratch leaned back. "And with protect us, you mean..."


    "I do mean protect you. Did you truly think Mac and the Liege approve of this shift in power? Not to mention," she gave a quick side glance to Harkness, "the dark sorcery."


    "We can ship the steel armor and weapons to Eston via boat," Harkness pronounced carefully, "we have our own harbor."


    "Store them here," Lacrima almost put the cup of cold tea to her lips again but remembered her distaste for it in time, "it is closer to where they should see use. Which reminds me, an adventuring party will be making its way into the witchwood in the coming week."


    "We heard about that," Scratch responded, he took Harkness'' hand off his scalp and intertwined his and her fingers in-between them, "we had the combined military force of the entire extended family to our disposal and we fled the scene before they arrived."


    "I''m here to tell you to leave them alone."


    "Well good," he sighed, "not doing anything is always easier than doing something. I don''t do thousands of things every day."


    "Make a special effort," she demanded coldly, "this group will be escorting my apprentice near the border of your territory. They must not be harassed. No ambushes, no blockades,"


    "Yes yes, it''s all fine." He waved away her concerns.


    "...no errant traps."


    "Uh... we''ll look into it."


    Then Lacrima delved in what had to be the true reason for her visit. These adventurer missions to the witchwood were a semi-common occurrence, she commissioned them twice a year and the goblin civilization was growing much larger than the bandit camp ever was, and she did not want them to interfere, therefore- It was a whole story.


    The bandit leader visibly relaxed. The casualness with which Lacrima commanded them told her the witch felt secure in her power. There would be no demonstration of force in their immediate future. At least, as long as they wouldn''t do anything to offend her.


    "How about you give us some more magic items." Scratch suddenly interrupted her.


    Harkness tensed up.


    "The last ones were useful but we''ve just about used them up," he continued, "the stick is good for finding iron, but then we have to hack it out with our little arms. We''d replace the lost steel a lot quicker if you gave us a way to get the iron out of the magnetite. Don''t you have any potions for dissolving stone?"


    "Darling..." she forcibly smiled, "begging isn''t polite you know?" The normally strong knight seemed like a different person trying to play a proper host, a heavily pregnant beleaguered housewife.


    He let go of her hand and slumped away from her, as a sort of full-body eye roll.


    Lacrima didn''t seem that offended at all. "The crushing the magnetite to powder will let you incorporate it into the pig-iron, the dwarves of the underworld often do it that way. Your... cave, does run deep enough to find several pockets, does it not?"


    "...yes." It was an open secret that the Promise was build upon a dungeon. Somehow an etiquette had developed around not saying it out loud.


    As long as it was a ''secret'' nobody had to do morally protest.


    "Then the surface veins should suffice, three dozen sets of armor, that is all you need to keep at hand for me."


    <hr>


    "Crush the rock to dust, she talks like it''s easy." Scratch would later complain.


    "What does Lacrima need child-fitted armor for?" Harkness thought at loud, over him.


    "How do you do that? A millstone? Big hammers?" The two continued to talk only with themselves and not each other.


    "Now I know that that woman runs the orphanage, and as a witch she must be involved in guarding local nature. But Barbara tells us she buys and sells houses for the thieves'' guild."


    "What about it Bree? Are you gonna grow up big and strong enough to crush stone?"


    The troll child giggled as Scratch bounced her up and down his lap. ''Brick'' had turned into ''Bree'', it was more of a girl''s name.


    "She wouldn''t outfit children with armor, would she... Scratch?"


    "Hhm?"


    "Do you thin- Ah!"


    "Hey!? What is it?"


    "The babies are coming."


    <hr>


    Harbors


    In a select number of locations around the continent, the land near the sea tapers down gradually enough for river deltas to form.


    These places will have ports build upon them.


    Ports are important trading hubs, for they allow goods to be transported in large quantities by boat.


    The largest port in the world belongs to the city state of Grienice, one of the four realms, and is essential for the survival of the city.


    Adventuring quest in these towns can often involve protecting ships from aquatic monsters such as steelsharks or tentagrabbers.

 Ruckus

    "It''s a counterpost to a credit post and that makes it a debit post. See? It''s like a double negative." Scratch demonstrated the accounting process on an upright piece of slate. It sat against the boarded up well in the courtyard.


    "Double... what is a double?" One of his youngest asked.


    The class consisted of seven hobgoblins and a troll. Ada, Felix and Jasper, who were already fully grown. The new hobgoblins were still smaller than fully grown regular goblins, they had the fat faces of toddlers. Their mother had named them Will, Trevor, Piers and Constantine and they had no conception of the outside world from which these names derived.


    The troll was smaller than them still. Despite being older she was still an infant, although a full set of pointy teeth had come through.


    Absolutely none of the students were making a genuine effort at understanding the material. Their slates and chalk were tossed before them and they spend their time zoning out and looking at clouds.


    "What''s the point of this, we''re never going to use any of this!" Ada complained.


    "One day, Ada, you will need to disguise stolen treasure as legal revenue. On that day you''ll thank me."


    "Nuh-uh." She flat out contradicted him. "We''re goblins. We can''t disguise being goblins."


    He impatiently tapped his foot on the stone tiles.


    Everything the kids had learned up till now had come to them naturally. Language they picked up in a day, martial arts was purely a matter of muscle memory, even magic to the extend that they could achieve it was simple. But this was different, numbers were not necessary for survival, and bookkeeping was abstract. This was one area for which he needed them to be disciplined and conscientious.


    "It''s a matter of personal development." He stated as authoritatively as he could.


    "Bleh." She leaned back and gagged at the concept.


    "Can we leave?" Felix moaned. "I have to do the skins and sharpen the blades today."


    Will and Trevor had already gotten up and were wrestling each other.


    "Fine, but take your little brothers with you. Show them how it''s done. I''ll look after Bree while you do, where is she?"


    -


    The troll infant was perfectly capable of keeping up with the walking pace of a goblin.


    Her arms had grown faster than the rest of her body, and her crawl had turned into a series of bouncy hops, as she launched herself forward with her powerful limbs.


    It seemed to Scratch rather dog-like how she followed him around on all fours.


    "We''re off to meet out friends at the depot," he told her as they strolled through the tiled street of the Promise, "can you say that Bree? De-Pot."


    "Deepo!" She pushed through her large fangs. She was only learning a few words a day, much slower than the hobgoblins.


    "Close enough." Scratch shrugged.


    It wasn''t quite a bustling city street, but the main road was quite busy. Human bandits were building communal homes and workshops near the warehouses. Goblin help was cheap, the kids weren''t particularly wise negotiators and would put in a day''s work for pocket change. They made up for it by being shirkers and easily distracted.


    As a consequence, the street was filled with cargo sleds and busy feet. The two had to dodge the workers as they made their way towards the gate.


    "Can you say traffic congestion? Tra-ffic."


    "In a teaching mood, Scratch?" Barbara was leaning against the outside of her little shop and saw them arrive.


    "As long as anybody''s in a learning mood." He responded.


    Bree rushed forward and jumped up and down and around the goblin mother, who immediately backed away.


    I should invest in a leash. He thought to himself.


    -


    "Your furniture is in the tall warehouse," she explained once inside, "you can pick it up today."


    "How much do I owe ya?"


    While they were discussing business Bree was climbing the boxes and racks behind the counter, lifting up boxes and opening up jars.


    "I''ve subtracted it from the salt and wood profits. With the fees for the transports you get...." she carefully stacked the coins on the counter


    "...six gold."


    He smiled. "Now I know my good friend Barbara would never skim me."


    "Uh, hehe. That''s rounded down of course." She tossed some silver and copper alongside it.


    He scooped it up and stored it in a pocket in his long sleeve, without counting.


    "With how long it took her to get those mattresses together, you might has well have had them smuggled in from the city." She mentioned.


    "Tree-home houses some friends and family of ours. We''d like to support them."


    Barbara frowned. "You have money enough, you could give them anything they need. But you''re having them make beds for you in exchange."


    "Exactly. Building up a bed-making industry. One day they''ll be shipping out beds to all over the forest."


    She put her elbows on her desk. "If you say so. Sounds like you''re making this more complicated than it needs to be."


    Scratch shrugged, "that''s society. If it weren''t complicated, people would get bored of it. Bree, let''s go, we''re of to feed the doggies."


    "Wait." Barbara reached under her desk. "I forgot to give you these yesterday. That weird owl brought them." With a loud slam she lifted a closed wooden crate onto the table.


    Scratch stood on his tippy toes to lift up the lid. Inside were stacks upon stacks of small paper ribbons, each with words inscribed on them. "An owl carried this thing? It looks like it''s, like, forty kilos."


    She did not answer his question, "it''s spellpaper. They''re magic items for remote spellcasting."


    "Watchu talking about?"


    She fished one out. "The thieves'' guild used these for traps. The writing on top contains a stored spell, once they''re activated the paper burns up and the spell releases."


    "... It stores a spell? What spell?"


    "I don''t know, I can''t read magic runes. I''m not a mage."


    Scratch stretched his body. "Well I can''t carry this. I''ll send somebody by to pick it up."


    -


    When they left the shop Scratch noticed Bree was chewing on something.


    "What is that liquorice root? Did you steal that?"


    Bree nodded enthusiastically and offered him a saliva drenched taste from her own mouth.


    "...None for me, thanks. Make sure you don''t get caught stealing things."


    <hr>


    With some help from the kids the new furniture was moved in. Bed frames, tables, and chairs. All made out of stubby tarred wood, usable though inelegant.


    The second floor was dedicated entirely to dormitories. The hobgoblins had their own bedrooms at the ends of the U-shape, but there were more rooms with hang mats for goblins that couldn''t fit a spot in the cave.


    The ground floor served every other need. Anything requiring water pressure stood at ground level, where it could make use of the water tower, including not one but two water closets. Tiled rooms sporting elegant flushable bowls. There was also a kitchen, close to the ground for goblin workhands, but large in terms of area. It was big enough for minor industrial purposes, feeding the masses down below and exporting to the colonies.


    There was one bedroom on that bottom floor, a two person bed close enough to the front door and the cave entrance to respond to an emergency. The master bedroom that the parent couple had given themselves.


    It was too large for its purpose, sporting only a double sized bed and a hamper for clothes. At the moment there were no cabinets or shelves to make it feel complete. The bare wood stood out and made it look empty.


    Yet the couple were intensely satisfied with the results.


    Laying on her back and staring at the ceiling Lydia Harkness felt with her hands were Scratch was laying beside her. "It''s been almost a decade since I''ve slept in a soft bed. It feels... nostalgic."


    "We''re getting back our dignity," Scratch said, "no more sleeping on the ground like animals. We''re becoming civilized."


    She paused at his words. "... You always seemed dignified to me, you have nothing to be ashamed of."


    He grabbed her hand and played with her fingers. "Poverty is humiliating, I can''t stand it. Whatever happens, whatever I have to do... I can''t be poor. I refuse."


    Now she rolled over to look at him. "Scratchy. You started out with nothing. No education and no estate. But many times you''ve been wiser and more leader-like than me. You''ve done nothing but rise, I''m... so proud of you."


    "You know I wasn''t always-" a lump formed in his throat, in that tender moment he had almost wanted her to know him intimately, but a trepidation formed inside him that was almost like fear. Too much honesty isn''t healthy, he thought to himself, let''s not play with my cards facing outwards.


    "Wasn''t....?" She inquired.


    "I wasn''t- that is to say I was- Was wondering whether you can read magic runes."


    "Huh?"


    <hr>


    "A fresh face I see. I haven''t seen you around here before." The guest had lingered among the statues and the preacher too the opportunity to have a talk.


    The guest put his hands together and gave a slight bow. "Indeed I am new to this parish father. My name is Soren, a cobbler. Having lost my family to a fire, I left Linefort and came to Eston for a new start."


    The rehearsed story would have pricked up the ears of anybody looking out for suspicious characters. But the priest did not raise an eyebrow.


    "Are you admiring our gallery?"


    The guest looked out over the row of gods adoring the temple wing, they were bland and near featureless. Each one had the same pose, a straight back, staring ahead, and the arms to the side. The only thing differentiating them were some token expressions of gender and the items clutched in their fists.


    Stolen story; please report.


    "I was. It''s..." he tried to think of a compliment, "tranquil?"


    "Hhm. Tranquil indeed, sometimes I think our little church is here more to bless adventurers than it is to..." he trailed off, "just this week I blessed a party of kids. Truly, kids, barely had all their teeth. They were setting out for the witchwood, escorting some witch apprentice. Have you heard about the woodlands? Something sinister is brewing there, a stinking darkness that stains the ground." He shook his head to banish the sombre thoughts. "Anyhow, you''re not impressed with the statues, are you?"


    "Well..."


    "They''re not quite the life-like marble you might see in the south. But they''re dependable, any of these pillars can channel the image of the gods as well as the Grienician colossi, I tell you that. You know, she takes confessions."


    "Benesant does?" The other looked at the statue in front of them, a woman holding a flaming wreath and a sword.


    "Indeed she does." The preacher spoke gravely. "You do know the power all gods share, to inhabit their likeness and through that visit our plane. Her worshipers can speak to her from here."


    Soren laughed nervously. "Father. I cannot hope for my words to be worth her time."


    "You were correct."


    "I beg your pardon?"


    "The flaming wreath and the judiciary sword. Those are the relics that channel Benesant''s image. The ascetic style has fallen out of favor in the past century, I learned the relics as an acolyte but they''d slipped my mind, you jogged it. This one is Benesant."


    Soren audibly swallowed. A cobbler from the capital shouldn''t be that versed in theology. The priest had stopped just short of calling him a liar in front of the goddess'' visage, but he''d made it very clear that he saw through his story.


    "I''m sorry," the priest continued, "what did you say your name was? Stan?"


    "Soren." Stanford answered.


    "Soren. Of course, you''re already good friends with some of my parishioners."


    As a matter of fact he hadn''t acquainted himself with any of his new civilian neighbours yet. He had taken the first opportunity to visit a church in close to a decade as soon as possible.


    "I do warn you about bad influences. I wouldn''t want you to get stained with any... stinking darkness."


    Stanford side-eyed him. "Is there something you want of me?"


    The priest smiled and began to walk off. "We''re a peaceful community. All we want is to stay out of trouble, you won''t be trouble, will you?"


    "I won''t." But the man had already left.


    Stanford, or Soren, put his hat back on to leave the temple. The warning had been sobering, he was still connected to the criminal underworld, and in Eston even the clergy was implicated enough to know about it.


    Just how much does the Thieves'' Guild control? He wondered to himself.


    <hr>


    BANG!


    "Hahaaa!"


    Huckabee was beside himself with joy seeing the rock and ore blast away. It was the most fun he''d had in months.


    The spellpaper stuck neatly to the rock face and could be activated with a trivially small amount of mana from within sight. When he did the paper lit up into flame and the stone behind it burst into shards, which collapsed on each other and outwards into a chest-shaking bang.


    As the knight had been able to determine the evening before, the magic on the spellpaper was earth magic. Meant to collapse stone formations.


    "Okay okay, next one." The bandit waved his hobgoblin helpers over to clear away the rubble.


    They were clearing out the space around the wolf den, near where the lift led down to the caverns. More of the underground river had been laid bare and they had created another shore on the other side. The wolves themselves had fled the noise, the birds had been moved out beforehand, and the den was empty now.


    The only things left were the wooden flooring with its wolfbed indentatioins, some proper lanterns that had been brought in for the humans to see, and Scratch and Lydia Harkness at the far side of the room.


    "I''m keeping my eye on them because I don''t trust the kids with the bombs." He told her.


    "I don''t trust Huckabee with them." She said.


    They watched Trevor test the limits of his strength far beyond what they actually were. He was attempting to lift a menhir of shiny rock his on size on his back. The boy was almost fully grown for a hobgoblin now.


    "Does this stuff get used for weapons?" Scratch wondered out loud, referring to the explosive magic.


    "Magic spells are cheaper and easier to use in a battle," Harkness told him, "it''s for utility. Like mining. Lacrima must have listened to you."


    "That witch... she''s suspicious as all hell."


    "Scratch. Lacrima isn''t the one operating a dungeon. We are."


    "We?"


    "Yes. We." She was taking joint responsibility for the caves of monsters that they relied upon.


    He leaned back and looked up at her. "Those troll creatures keep showing up at the lower level, they flung themselves at the wall a few times. I don''t want to give up that floor-"


    BANG!


    "Of course not." She continued the conversation unfazed. "We need the dockyard to make it through the winter."


    "But..." he trailed off suggestively. There was a but coming.


    Lydia Harkness had a liking to Bree, she didn''t like to see Scratch treat her so much like a tool. He wanted to use her as a way to manipulate the trolls.


    "Bree is just a child."


    He nodded, giving her a token concession was good practice in getting his way. That''s what the demon had taught him. "But she won''t be for long... Have you thought about their future at all?"


    His modern sensibilities envisioned the hobgoblins and trolls moving out to be independent, starting little kingdoms of her own. But her worldview was much different.


    "Their future is with us. You still think a person''s destiny is to be an island, but it''s not. We''re a family, you know about families right?"


    She was condescending him again. He didn''t like it when she condescended him. "I know about your family. I know about my family. I''d like to think there''s a middle ground somewhere."


    Sensing a growing coldness between them she moved in a bit. "Let''s-"


    BANG!


    "Let''s wait until she''s grown, at least."


    "Of course we will," he stroked her arm, "you worry too much you know. Your heart''s too big."


    <hr>


    The explosions were close enough to breach the surface, and the older hobgoblins heard a muffled rumbling in their beds.


    With the manor finished the hobgoblins now had two communal rooms, one for each generation.


    They each took up the end of a wing on the second floor and had windows on three sides. The frames held many smaller glass panes, each as thick as it was wide, creating a checkerboard pattern of light.


    Only during late afternoon and the evening would sunlight shine directly into the rooms, but being subhumans they were able to see perfectly well in relative gloom.


    "Are ya gonna wake up?" Ada asked Jasper, who tightly gripped his bed frame during the vibrations.


    "Never," he insisted, "I have found what I like to do most of anything and it''s laying in this bed."


    The beds were new. Cloth mattresses filled with feathers and straw, the softest objects to ever enter the Promise.


    "Not under my reign!" She began jumping on his bed.


    "Noooo!" Jasper whined as he was tossed up and down by the bouncing. "Stoooop!"


    "I''m the king of the bedroom, nobody can sleep in my kingdom!" Ada yelled.


    In the doorpost of the room stood Quiet, awkwardly waiting for a chance to interrupted them and ask for some silence. Only one thin wall separated them from the goblins that had been in charge of the night-shift trying to sleep. "Uhm-uh..." He raised his finger when a pack of newborn wolf pups rushed into the room and knocked him over.


    They were play-fighting with two of the younger hobgoblins, Piers and Constantine. The boys were almost fully grown but still threw themselves on wolf backs and wrestled with the smallest ones on occasion.


    "Stop him! He''s got the winner''s rope!" Piers shouted. Whoever had the winner''s rope was winning the game for as long as they kept a hold of it.


    The black furred dog holding the rope in its jaws triumphantly jumped on Ada''s head and off again before she could react. He dashed from corner to corner of the room on the wings of gusts of wind, he was a windwolf.


    Everybody in the sleeping quarters united into a single coordinated team, boxing in all escape routes and standing ready to grasp him.


    "Yes!" "Oh-no!" "Stop!" They shouted over each other trying to bring down the champion together.


    Quiet, rather disgruntled now, pulled himself to his feet. The house was louder and busier than ever, an outsider hearing the ruckus would probably expect to see a battle to the death going on.


    Just was he was about to say something he was knocked to the side again by Bree, now his own height, storming into the room. She''d invited herself the game but with her hobbling walk hadn''t been able to keep up. "Waitwait. Wait for me."


    The target dashed between Ada''s legs, who took it out on the youngest, "shut up Bree, you''re ruining everything," and threw a pillow at her.


    "Nono. ''S not true! No!" The immature troll slammed the pillow into the ground, rupturing it and sending feathers everywhere.


    Then the game turned into an argument as everybody talked over each other, the wolves as well as the goblins, as both understood each other''s words.


    "Everybody QUI-ET!" The normally demure little goblin bellowed furiously over the yelling children.


    They all went completely silent. For some of them this was the first time they''d heard his voice.


    "Go play outside." He hissed coldly.


    Jasper was about to protest, "but I-"


    "Now."


    So shocking and severe was his outburst they everybody drooped off with their heads down.


    -


    Having been thrown out of the house the kids ended up loitering in the Promise''s single street. They looked a bit intimidating as a mob of monsters bounding around the slate.


    "Don''t follow us Bree. You ruin everything." Ada demanded.


    "Do not. Do not!" The troll denied it.


    "Uhh do nooot" Her sister mocked her with a dumb voice.


    Frustrated but unable to express it properly Bree made a whining noise and smashed her large forearms into the ground, cracking the stone.


    One of the wolf pups yapped, offended at the destruction of property.


    "Let''s play tag." Jasper suggested. The game had once been introduced or at least named by Scratch a long time ago, but that origin was shrouded in obscurity now. It had seen a lot of transference before ending up with the current generation.


    "Me too. Me too. " Bree insisted.


    "Fine, then you''re it. Tag." Everybody scattered away from the girl, who looked around in confusion.


    "You''ve got to touch somebody else to make them it." Ada shouted at her.


    But knowing the rules didn''t help Bree much, since she was a lot slower than everybody else. They could keep ahead of her with a slight jog.


    At first she whined about nobody letting her win, but that only caused the others to mock her and Ada to imitate her voice. But after a few minutes she began to develop a technique, by slowing down and lulling the others into a false sense of security she could goad them to come closer. Then she would use her arms to suddenly leap forwards, a sudden burst of speed that the others couldn''t manage.


    This trick did get her a bit closer to tagging someone every time she tried it. She could probably swat at the tail of one of the less tactically aware pups, but she had her eyes set on somebody else. Smug Ada. If she could beat her that would invalidate all the mean words she had for her.


    Running back and forth over the whole town she finally thought she''d corned her near a construction site. Some of the bandits had come together to build a three story brick apartment together, the wooden framework was there but not all of the walls yet.


    Bree attempted another of her signature sudden leaps, but Ada deftly stepped away and the troll crashed headfirst onto a thick wooden beam, splintering it like it was a matchstick. The entire structure toppled on top of her, untold tons of brick and metal converged directly on top of her and buried her in debris.


    "Ah! No!" Ada yelled out in shock, she thought the girls was annoying but she hadn''t wanted for her to die.


    "Bree! Bree!" Jasper jumped on top of the pile and began to shovel off bits of debris. It seemed fruitless, no living being could have survived a barrage like that.


    Miraculously he was thrown off by sliding material and Bree emerged from the rubble with only a few bruises and cuts.


    The whole group cheered like she won a football game. Jasper hugged her head and began to apply healing magic.


    Bree didn''t quite understand what was happening, but she enjoyed the attention.


    They didn''t get to cheer for long as Aimone came running in a mad frenzy at the destruction. "Mannagia! What have you putas done? You monsters! I''ll kill you!" He was nearly foaming at the mouth.


    The pups growled aggressively but fled and hid as he came closer.


    "Buzz off," Ada spat, "you''re not the boss. Our mom''s your boss. Get lost."


    A dagger of ice appeared in Aimone''s hand. "Nobody could blame me... they''re monsters. Nobody would-"


    Gildo surprised him from behind and held him back. "Aimone, no. We wouldn''t do this no more, Aimone!"


    Ada laughed smugly at his impotence.


    "Go outside, where you can''t wreck anything." Gildo told them, still gripping his friend.


    Ada crossed her arms. "Why?" But Jasper was already pulling her along.


    -


    They left the gate to find the fields right outside. More treestumps were being removed to increase the farmland for the autumn crop.


    "Why do we have to listen to anybody of them?" Ada protested. "We''re stronger, way stronger."


    "Bree''s becoming stronger than you," Constantine teased her, "are ya gonna do what Bree says."


    "No, shut up." She pushed him, and they wrestled a bit. With her being fully matured she had the upper hand.


    One of the dogs yapped excitedly at them.


    "That''s not true at all," Piers told it, "Felix is the fasted out of any of us. But he''s down below."


    Ada threw Constantine aside. "Let''s race. Bree can stay behind."


    "Noooo!" The troll whined again, not wanting to get ditched again.


    But Ada had started sprinting and the others didn''t want to lose. So they took off as a group.


    Bree hobbled after the runners, jumping forward every few paces to catch up.


    The distance seemed to grow ever wider between her and the group when she suddenly found her stride. By flinging herself forward again just as she landed she could bounce forward without losing momentum.


    Now she was picking up speed, passing dogs and hobgoblins one after another, grabbing the occasional tree branch to fly acrobatically over their heads.


    "H-hey! No fair!" Ada protested as Bree swung triumphantly over her.


    She laughed happily soaring through the air and... in free fall. Suddenly there were no trees around her and she plummeted towards a brightly lit patch of vibrantly green grass.


    With a painful smack she rolled over the dirt and fell face first into a wide stream.


    When the others caught up to her they stopped a few paces behind her. In their antics the children had crossed the entire breadth of the goblin territory up to the river.


    Bree lifted herself out of the stream to look directly into a piece of sharpened metal.


    They were standing face to face with a group of young adventurers.


    <hr>


    guilds


    While farmers and other landowners answer to the nobility directly, workmen that live in cities are organized in guilds.


    Three of the four realms of the overworld employ guilds to organize society. Only the barren Yellow Wastes are unable to enforce such a system.


    Guilds settle disputes amongst their members, draft fair rules to avoid competition, and set the minimum standards for their profession to meet.


    The adventurers'' guild is but one of these guilds and functions much the same way, appointing local guildmasters and distributing commissions in the form of quests.


    Guildmasters are prominent citizens, often possessing some noble blood, that have the ear of their baron in the ruling of the barony. In Grienice, where the nobility has been ousted, the title of guildmaster is the most powerful permanent position attainable.


    For unlicensed workmen to fulfill a profession without being part of a guild is a serious crime. This can result in strict punishment up to and including exile.

 The Enemy

    That''s right, Lenore is nobility. She is very dignified when talking to the knights, like a different person.


    [Then I shall make sure my mother does not hear about this...] She gives a small bow and the rude knight looks like he has a sword on his throat.


    [N-naturally young lady. We''ll clear the table, won''t we boys? Please, do not let us disturb you.]


    The same group that tried to intimidate us into leaving the guild house is now slavishly cleaning up a table for us to sit at. Lenore sure can be scary when she throws her family name around, I don''t think I''ve heard her say Pyuu once during that.


    [Pyuuu~] There it is. [Wasn''t I helpful? Praise me Rudy!]


    I pat her head. She deserves it this time.


    Xandra is scanning the room. [There sure are a lot of knights around, aren''t there? The guildhouse is for adventurers! Shouldn''t they be at that new fortress or something?]


    [Don''t say it too loudly, they''re prickly about it.] The guild receptionist lady walks by holding a tray of foamy mugs. [Harkness and his knights were chased off by a goblin army. It''s actually kinda funny.]


    [A whole army? But goblins are most numerous in spring, aren''t they?] Xandra interrogates her like a detective.


    She shrugs. [I think there were some bandits sheltering and feeding them or something.]


    [Hey!] One of the knights calls out to her. [What''s holding up the beer? Come on!]


    [These meatheads think I''m here to wait on them or something.] She complains.


    [Pyuu. You are though?] Lenore purrs naively.


    The guild lady clicks her tongue. [Here is the address for the escort mission you''re taking, but guild rules say you can''t accept unless you have at least one more rank D member.]


    [I''m practically rank D,] Xandra boasts, [I just haven''t had the chance to prove it!]


    [Rules are rules. Take it up with the guildmaster.] She says as she leaves.


    I wonder when the guildmaster will resign and Marie is appointed in his stead. It''s only a few more years until the events of the game take place.


    [Rudy,] Xandra looks to me, [where are we going to get another member?]


    Didn''t you appoint yourself the leader? You figure it out.


    [I don''t know.] I say.


    Hearing that a tall knight slams his hand on the table. [Are you kids going to the forest?]


    [The witchwood.] I explain.


    [Excuse me. It''s not your business is it?] Lenore bites at him.


    The knight ignores her and straddles a nearby chair. Sticks out his hand to greet me. [My name''s Rocksteady. William. My unit is a bit directionless at the moment, I could come with you lot.]


    Xandra looks triumphant. [Sure you can!]


    But I''m still not convinced. [Does that count? I mean you''re not in the guild are you?]


    [Sure, I''ve done it before. A knight is like a level D adventurer. You just need permission from your guildmaster.]


    [Good. Then well go upstairs and ask.]


    It''s a good excuse to get away from the knights everywhere. And maybe if we see Marie I can tell her about keeping track of the spring amulet for when the hero comes by.


    -


    After we''ve climbed the curved stairs onto the balustrade I apologize to the group and suggest a slight detour. It''s been years since I''ve played ''four realms'', but I still now the exact layout of Eston''s adventurers'' guild.


    At one side the training rooms and monster cages, at the other the offices of the staff.


    However, most seem empty. I only find the magic teacher Mildred in one of them.


    [Marie? Marie doesn''t work here anymore.] The halfling mages barely looks up at us.


    That doesn''t make sense, in the story of the game Marie is the dependable guildmaster. How can she quit the guild if she''s going to be the leader in the future?


    I''m curious now. [Did she quit the guild?]


    [What''s up with you Rudy,]  Xandra giggles, [got a little crush?]


    Of course Lenore becomes agitated. [Pyuuu~]


    [That would be very inappropiate,] William says, [you should be looking towards girls your own age.]


    Xandra immediately changes her tone. [Well... sometimes it''s more about mental maturity than biological age. Isn''t it Rudy?]


    Mildred is becoming impatient. [Did she quit? She''s dead, I had to see her die myself. What are you lot even doing here? The quest board is downstairs.]


    [I apologize for them,] William is being very condescending, [I''m here to-]


    [Go apologize somewhere else.]


    I feel a hand on my shoulder. [It''s fine Mildred. You three are here for Lacrima''s requires aren''t you?]


    It''s the old man guildmaster. I don''t remember his name, he wasn''t in the game.


    [Yes but we-]


    [I''ll waive any requirement. If she thinks you are good enough, I believe her.]


    William sticks out his hand. [William Rocksteady, I would like to go along for this escort.]


    The guildmaster doesn''t grab it. [Bill. I knew your father.]


    [Ofcourse.]


    [I can''t stop you from going along but... the witch will know what''s best.]


    Now he''s herding us out of the building.


    [You lot should get going to pick up little Elpheba. It''s getting late you see. You must have passed the orphanage on your way here, can''t miss it. Goodbye now!]


    -


    [He really wanted us out of there.] I say while we''re walking back over the Eston streets.


    [They were probably just busy. The building was packed you know.] Xandra dismisses me. [So, William, what other quests have you done for the guild?]


    She''s mimicking how Lenore is grabbing my arm with his.


    When William pries himself loose, so do I.


    [I''ll let the party she wanted talk to the quest giver,] he says, [I''ll meet you outside in a few minutes while I go talk to someone.]


    Before I''d noticed it we''re already at the orphanage. It''s pretty ostentatious! Is that a statue over the entrance?


    [Rudy, why did you let that knight come with us?] Lenore complains after he''s left. [I don''t trust him, he smells like a basilisk.]


    [Can you please try to get along with others? I like having someone that can fight with us, okay?]


    Xandra puffs up her cheeks. [I can fight-]


    We are interrupted when the heavy wooden doors suddenly open.


    A girl our age with green hair and a black dress stands in the opening. She bows to greet us, and we quickly bow back. [You must be Rudy.


    Come in, my misstress is expecting you.]


    <hr>


    [More tea, dearie?]


    The witch of Eston is actually a really sweet old lady! She takes care of these orphans that don''t have a family.


    And for the tea she''s prepared a tower of sweets and buns.


    [No. What exactly are we supposed to retrieve in the Witchwood?] Xandra gets right down to business. Of anybody I''d expect Xandra to seize the opportunity for more cake.


    [Elpheba will know what to do. All you have to do is protect her.]


    [And when we get back, you can cure this nasty curse. Pyuu?]


    What do you want Lenore, for her to repeat herself? Leave the nice old lady alone!


    [That''s right, honey.] She pinches the catgirl''s cheeks. [The feybloom is the only thing that can dispell magical diseases.]


    [One more question.] My curiosity has been peaked. [Why us? You send out a specific request. Why?]


    The woman''s expression sours. [Are you saying you won''t do it?]


    Xandra springs in. [Oh! No we''ll definitely do it! He was just curious, heheh.]


    She sighs and puts down her teacup. [The truth is... that the feybloom can be sold for a lot of money. On top of that, I will be sending my precious apprentice alongside the party. Some of adventurers might be tempted to betray us and leave with the flower. The bloom I can lose, but to think of my dear girl, stranded in the wild...]


    By the door Alpheba looks at her master. Her expression doesn''t change much, difficulty communicating huh?


    [We understand, we understand!] Xandra is diverting the conversation towards herself again. [We''re totally the dependable sort. You can count on us.]


    [Master. It''s getting late.] Alpheba mentions. [Perhaps we should leave.]


    [I see. Do you kids have camping equipment?]


    [Of course.] Xandra boasts. [We''re a rank D party you know!]


    [Rank D. My my. Then I will not take up anymore of your time. Please bring my apprentice back to me in one piece.]


    She bows. We bow. Everybody bows.


    -


    On our way out of the orphanage we see the orphans playing in the courtyard. They''re passing a ball between them.


    [Letta! Hey! Letta!] Xandra waves at the little girl we saved from goblins last year.


    [We really must be going.] Alpheba guides us along.


    It''s a pity that we couldn''t say hello to Letta. She didn''t even notice us, too focused on the game. Although it looked a bit boring to me, the same actions over and over again.


    [We''re meeting up with a party member though.] I explain.


    But outside William is already waiting for us. We did take a long time with the tea.


    [Oh! Uh..] Alpheba seems startled.


    [Is there a problem?]


    [No... Ofcourse not.]


    [Elpheba and I have seen each other around.] William admits. [I''ll be accompanying you on your mission witchling, and see for myself what finer details it entails.]


    [As you wish.] She bows.


    He bows.


    Just to be safe I bow as well.


    [Pyuu what is the soldierer wearing now?] Lenore is grabbing my arm again.


    [Oh this.] William looks at his flowing robes. [I''m not allowed to take steel equipment with me for personal use, so I got changed.]


    [But why a mage robe?]


    [Because I''m a mage! We rocksteady''s, we''re pyromancers, our pedigree goes all the way back to when Rhada blessed this realm as the fire country.]


    [Knights are so proud of their national roots.] Lenore giggles in my ear. [Real nobility is global. We Purmas have baronies all over the overworld.]


    [Be nice.] I reprimand her.


    <hr>


    To reach the witchwood we need to follow the river upstream for a couple of days.


    That means we''ll pass by the burnt farm again...


    William knows about it. [The goblin infestation in the woods nearby had gotten so big the duke had send us to build a fortress nearby. To keep the region under control.]


    I want to ask about the orcs that will inhabit the region by the time the story of the game begins. [Just for goblins?]


    William laughs. [Goblins are more dangerous than you think. Supression by the adventurers'' guild is done to keep them at straggling numbers.


    You don''t get to see them when they really crowd up, they''re a lot stronger in numbers.]


    Lenore puffs her cheeks. [The adventurers at least do their job. These steelswingers lost to them!]


    [Aye, I can''t deny that. Look over there.]


    He points at the horizon to show another burned building.


    [We had to abandon fort and they burned it. Could have taken it for themselves, but they didn''t know how presumably.]


    [But it''s not your fault!] Xandra insists. [They had hobgoblins and bandits with them and everything!]


    [It was mostly regular goblins though. As I said, they''re quite fiercesome in large groups, a goblin throng never retreats you know.]


    Now I''m scared. [I-is it safe to get so close to their territory then?]


    [Don''t worry.] Alpheba turns around to walk backwards, she winks at me. [When you travel in small groups you don''t have to fight throngs.


    These goblins are all rank F.]


    She''s much more energetic outside. Must have been getting bored in the orphanage.


    [And what about orcs? Are there any orcs in these regions?]


    [Orcs? No...] William thinks about it. [There were a few hobgoblins, high level bandits, no orcs that I know of. TTalking about rare monsters, did you know the goblin leader is declared an enemy of humanity by the church? That''s special for a fodder creature like that.]


    [Ooh,] Xandra''s interest is peaked, [does that mean there''s a high reward for its ear?]


    [I don''t think so.]


    [The priests are a bunch of bozos anyway,] Alpheba claims audaciously, [a little goblin like that wouldn''t be in charge anymore if there''s hobgoblins that means they''ve taken over. And anyway you said yourself they''re led by a bandit knight.]


    [No.] I say. [If it''s who I think it is that guy can definitely be the leader.]


    [I remember when you told me this story, pyuu~]


    I don''t like thinking about it. How we were captured by a primitive tribe and our party members were killed for the capricious amusement of the eye-patch goblin.


    [Please, tell me about what you saw.] William seems strangely insistent.


    [Well...] Xandra blushes, [I suppose we''ve got a lot of time to fill up until we arrive...]


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    <hr>


    After camping by the riverside we''re woken up by a horned rabbit attacking the tent.


    [Ugh, Rudy, go kill it.] Xandra says such a demanding thing before turning over to go back to sleep.


    Well, it''s morning anyway.


    I kill the rabbit and wash my face.


    I am surprised to see William making breakfast. He''s used magic to create a campfire and is baking eggs and beans over it.


    [Ugh. I should have eaten more scones while I had the chance.] Xandra complains.


    Not me. What I really want is some rice. But people in this world don''t eat rice except during extravagant feasts.


    [Gahaha. This is the breakfast that fuels the king''s army. Eat up! Eat up!] William pushes the warm broth onto our plates.


    [We''re not going to run into any goblins around here, are we?] I ask.


    [Not with Lenore''s sense of smell.] Xandra points her finger in the air. [If you''ve been counting we''ve dodged three nests just yesterday. With the


    Purma catgirl on our side we''ll always exactly know where to camp.]


    [Hehe, praise me more pyuu~]


    [We absolutely do have to follow this river to get to the witchwood.] Alpheba smacks through a mouthful of beans. She''s packed pajamas to sleep in and she''s wearing them now. [Up to the warped tree and then to the left. If that comes by a goblin tribe we''ll have to go through them.]


    [You three are a capable bunch, aren''t you? Goblins don''t scare you.] William asks.


    [No, but killing goblins... is kinda sad.] Xandra explains.


    [You just feel bad for them you know?] I add.


    He and Alpheba look at each other like we''re crazy.


    [What are you talking about, pyuu? Last night you two told us about how you were captured by goblins last spring,] Lenore protests, [didn''t that make you think of them as dangerous enemies?]


    Xandra sighs. [No. It kind of just made me think of them as people like us.]


    The conversation falls dead as we eat our beans and eggs.


    -


    We do have to kill goblins.


    It doesn''t seem like any belong to Scratch''s [family]. They''re mangy like the depictions on the wanted posters.


    Yet they carry advanced weapons for goblins, stone-tipped spears, slings, and even straw armor.


    Luckily we have no trouble dispatching them. Xandra can strike at the vital areas before any of them even have the chance to move, and


    Lenore blocks all the projectiles they throw at us with her shield.


    [A bit embarrassing, isn''t it Rudy?] William laughs, [having to be protected by these girls. For me, I have to preserve mana. Usually I''d fight with my sword, but you know how it is.]


    [Rudy can''t do anything because he only has rogue equipment,] Xandra winks at me, [they say rogue is the weakest class, don''t they Rudy?]


    [I''ll remember that you said that the next time you''re imprisoned in a dungeon.] We can only say mean things to each other because we know each other so well.


    [These goblins were not surprised by us.] Alpheba makes the tone serious again. [They were looking for us.]


    [They have to have a nest or camp nearby to project their raids out of.] William concludes.


    -


    Sure enough, before reaching the warped tree we come across a goblin nest.


    A patch of dry land stands out between the stream, on top of it the goblins have build a wall out of red fired bricks. The structure looks akin to a tower, a circular wall reaching up three stories high. On top of it there are goblins holding slings and crummy wooden javelins. Luckily with my trained rogue skills I can help the party stay out of their field of vision under a tree.


    On the ground there is a water wheel slowly turning in the water, and channels carry water through a patch of upturned earth. An irrigated farm?


    If there''s any surface on the ground level constructions it''s covered in barbed punji sticks, more against wildlife than invaders.


    [This isn''t supposed to be here.] Alpheba whispers. [Nothing this large...]


    William rubs his chin. [Ths does not look like a typical infested farmhouse or mill. It''s almost like... they made it themselves?]


    [Do you see that?] Xandra points at a series of wooden planks on top of the sharp punji sticks laying out a path to the other side of the farm.


    [We can get to the other side over that.]


    The path looks suspiciously out of place. New. Like it was laid out for us.


    [What about the women?] William asks seriously. [A goblin nest of this size must be keeping women captive.


    [We shouldn''t waste our mana on something like this.] Alpheba says.


    [Nonsense!]


    [Shhh!] We all urge him to keep his voice down simultaneously.


    [Nonsense. Is that what adventurers do? We have the power to collapse this whole tower and kill them all in one go. If you put up a distraction I can summon some magic-]


    [Rudy.] Xandra interrupts him. [You''re a rogue. You can climb in and break out the prisoners without anybody getting killed.]


    [Are you kidding!]


    [Shhhh!]


    [Are you kidding?] I protest, [in broad daylight? Do you think I''m some legendary hero?]


    [Daylight is good, at least the goblins won''t see better than you,] she explains, now in love with her own plan, [if you get captured just scream and we''ll come fighting.]


    My shoulders slump. I don''t want to do it, but everybody is looking at me with such big eyes.


    [Pyuu, you can do it Rudy.]


    [Fine...] But they better appreciate this.


    -


    It''s no difficulty at all stepping through the sharped sticks, I cast my usual spell in order to see the field of view of the guards.


    Luckily they don''t scan their surroundings as sharply as our previous enemies, so I can easily stay clear of the field as I jump across the waterwheel.


    The hole for the wheel''s axle is wide enough that I can squeeze inside to the other side of the brick wall. William was right, it''s not very thick,


    Lenore could probably collapse it with her shield bash.


    I had expected the inside of the tower to look like the inside of a house, but it seems like the wall is all there is. The place is lit with natural light from the open ceiling. Nothing more than scaffolding and ladders holds it up from this side, it''s more green than brown with all the goblins swarming the vertical structure.


    Most of them are typical goblins, but a few among them are better dressed and look more human-like, like the family.


    More to the point, in such an open space it''s harder to hide. I had hoped on some internal walls and corridors to sneak through.


    By making myself very tiny I can hide behind the moving millstone attached to the axle. By the looks of it they aren''t grinding wheat but rock...


    [You little monsters! What did I tell you? Huh!?]


    Right across from me stands a bed, covered in animal pelts and patterned wooden blankets. The woman lieing inside is holding a goblin by the hair and screaming in his face.


    [You do what I tell you to. And you do it when I tell you to! Only then!]


    She throws him to the ground.


    [Take him outside. He''s with the hunting group for... I don''t know, a week.]


    This person is not being kept as a breeding slave, she''s commanding them.


    I want to leave, but Xandra would lecture me if I didn''t at least search for any other possible women. A goblin nest without breeding slaves would quickly fall apart as the goblins die, wouldn''t it?


    [Eyes of Gold.] I still haven''t once used this spell to actually find gold like a rogue class adventurer is supposed to.


    Instead I search for an underground space.


    ... If there is one nobody has left any coins down there.


    [Bwuh?] A goblin with a basket of pebbles has discovered me!


    Before he can scream I grab his arm and force my hand over his mouth.


    [You''re going to bring me closer to your boss over there, you hear me? Or I''ll kill you.] He doesn''t stop struggling so I push my knife right against his throat. Only when he feels that does he nod.


    -


    We pass through the shadows of the scaffolding. I''m hiding behind the goblin holding the woven basket, with the outer wall on my other side, my knife is against his belly the whole time.


    The others are all too preoccupied with their own business to pay attention to us.


    [What''s your name?] I ask.


    [S-spit...]


    [That''s... fine. Spit. Everything''s going to be fine, I only want to know where your mother is.]


    [Bwuh?]


    I see my chance and jump out, grabbing the boss woman''s shoulder and pricking the tip of my knife in her back. She''s wearing thin silk so she feels in immediately.


    She may be an adult, but if you can sneak up on someone and put a knife in their back you always win, no matter how much stronger they are.


    That''s why the other adventurers are wrong, rogue isn''t the weakest class but actually the strongest.


    [You''re in charge here?] I feel around for hidden weapons. [Or do you work for Harkness? Or for the one-eyed goblin?]


    [Argh!] She screams.


    About a thousand little heads turn our way all at once.


    [Nobody move!] I threaten. [Or your leader dies!]


    [Whaddaya want!?] She bellows, [gold? We ain''t got any.]


    [Tell me where you''re getting new goblins from. Who are you keeping here?]


    [They come from me.]


    [What?]


    She grunts in annoyance, trying to slip away from my blade, though I follow er around with it. [I am their mother.] She''s talking through her teeth.


    [Papa Scratch gave me this place to rule, I can command the goblins I spawn. If you''re going to kill me get it over with.]


    [Command? Command how? With magic.]


    [No with... just with parenting. I lost everything the day I became a bandit, my body is the only thing I can leverage anymore.]


    Just what is this setup? I remember one slave playing mother for the litter the last time I was in these forests, does Scratch have goblin mothers like that all over the territory?


    [Just kill me.] Her voice breaks and she begins to cry. [I''m disgusting, aren''t I? I birth monsters for food and shelter, how low have I sunk? I should be dead is what I should be!]


    [H-hey now.] I want to comfort her, but when I pull away my knife she suddenly turns around and grabs me by the wrist.


    Four different goblins jump on top of me and hold me down.


    Right now I could scream, the rest of the group could probably break down this whole tower by spending some mana. But I don''t want to.


    If I could just reach the spellpaper on my belt...


    [So you''re the punk they don''t want us to touch, are ya?] The mother gloats. [The witch girls can wait. Let''s see what you have on ya.]


    [Who are ''they''? What are you talking about?] I buy some time while inching my fingers closer to my belt through the weight of my goblin captors.


    [Look for his coinpurse,] she commands her children, [I bet the brat has some pocketmoney saved up. That''ll buy us some proper wood for once.]


    One of the healthy looking goblin comes up next to her an whispers in her ear.


    She angrily pushes him away. [I rule the river home. If they come through my territory then I get first pickings, Papa can''t claim them before me. So say I.]


    I have my hand on the spellpaper. I can''t throw it on the ground the way I''m restraint now.


    So...


    I clench my teeth and activate it. A painful explosion burns my skin through my clothes as a loud *poof* envelops us in a cloud of smoke.


    Disoriented, the goblins let me go. I draw my knife. I could kill them, but I still feel bad. So instead I run, spending precious mana I jump out of the smoke and from scaffold to scaffold, evading quick-fingered goblins at times, until I get over the top of the wall. I scrape my knife against the bricks to slow my fall and land on the soft grass.


    Xandra and the others stand out in the open on the riverside, not really hiding anymore at all. [What happened?] [Do we go in?]


    [There''s nothing here,] I explain, [let''s leave.]


    We run for it. But after some distance it becomes clear that they''re not sending anything after us.


    [This sympathy for goblins is not healthy.] William proclaims.


    [Let us go around on the way back.] Alpheba proposes.


    <hr>


    After half a day''s travel Alpheba suddenly stops us.


    [Are you prepared? This is the entrance into the witchwood.]


    [What kind of creatures will we face there?] I''m nervous about this sort of thing. I didn''t want to become an adventurer, I wanted to live a normal life.


    [If we can follow the plan faithfully, you won''t have to fight anything. But you have to be prepared before we go in, just like a dungeon there''s no resting or retrieving from your bags while we''re inside.]


    [We are prepared Elphie, show us the way.] Xandra makes a fist.


    Now the apprentice witch waves her wand about and the mud from the riverbanks rises up to meet in the middle. A bridge has been formed!


    [Ooh! Earth magic,] Xandra whistles, [that''s a witch for you.]


    Alpheba blushes. [I''m only an apprentice.]


    [Well... onwards!] Xandra takes out her tonfas and runs across towards the magic bridge.


    [H-hey! Wait for us!]


    -


    The forest on this side of the river has a purple glow to it. Although the roof is thick and no sunlight comes through everything is bathed in an ambient light.


    A beautiful yellow-gold dirt road twists ahead of us. Vibrant green grass with patches of flowers all around.


    In a place as austere as this, you can''t help but whisper when talking to one another.


    [Did she say that?] William asks me about my sneak in in the goblin nest. [That Scratch wanted us for himself?]


    [I don''t quite understand it myself, but I think what he wanted was for us not to be toucheed. She knew we were with a witch apprentice. So... what does that mean?]


    He breathes deeply in and out. [I don''t want to jump to any conclusions, but as it stands, it seems to me that the goblins and the witch are working together.]


    [That can''t be... Do you think Elpheba knows?]


    [Let''s keep it between you and me for now. Can you keep a secret like that?]


    I don''t think I want to. [Sure.]


    [And if she ever asks you to give a drop of blood. Don''t do it. A witch could use that to gain power over you.]


    I don''t see any reason why a witch would want power over me. But I suppose there is no harm promising that.


    -


    [Stop.] Alpheba suddenly demands. [It''s a petal boar.]


    Breaking up the painterly beauty of our forest path stands a pink furred boar, the tips of its tusks are gold and it has what seems like a mane of flower petals.


    It grunts threateningly and scrapes its hooves.


    Alpheba falls back to behind us as Xandra jumps forwards, landing a kick on its nose and jumping over it as it gores at her.


    She lands some extra hits with her tonfas before Lenore manages to get between her and the monster, catching its tusks with her buckler.


    [Pyuu! Don''t rush in without your vanguard! I have to block the attacks for you, remember?]


    [I had it.] Xandra complains.


    The monster seems to activate some sort of ability, it lowers its head and starts shaking its flower petals.


    But before anything happens a bolt of fire hits it. William!


    The fire seems super effective on this type of enemy, it catches fire and begins to roll on the ground to put it out, squealing loudly.


    [Let''s put it out of its misery.] Xandra lifts up her weapon.


    [No. Leave it alone,] Alpheba instructs, [it''s more dangerous now than ever.]


    So we watch as it panics, running in circles and then bolting away to die somewhere else.


    [Aww!] Xandra boasts. [You know you can get a silver piece for killing a monster like that.]


    [You''re not here to enrich yourself with monster hunting,] William reminds her, [we''re here to protect the witch apprentice.]


    [Why didn''t Rudy do anything?] Alpheba asks.


    [Heh.] Xandra has a smug look on her face, [if it''s a fight you can count on me. If it''s sneaking about like a coward you can count on Rudy.]


    [What is that? Who''s the coward here?] I prod her face.


    [You''d do best to save your mana some more,] Alpheba warns, [the way back is more dangerous.]


    -


    We continue walking the path.


    There are more of these petal boars, but also other monsters. Alpheba calls them by name.


    Will-o-wisps, shimmerflies, and a ghost raven. With Lenore''s shield and Willliam''s fire we get rid of them rather easily, I''m becoming more confident!


    Xandra is totally bored though. [So are you going to find this feybloom thing soon or what? Do we have to scavange around for it?]


    She''s about to step off the path to look around.


    [Stay ON the path!] Alpheba insists, suddenly very strict in tone.


    Shocked Xandra retracts her foot.


    [This is a fairy path. It leads us to where we need to be, but you absolutely cannot step off or you''ll be lost in the woods!]


    She regains her composure.


    [I mean: Please.... Ma''am.]


    [Okay okay I get it.] Xandra sighs. [We''ll follow after you, just give a shout when we get there.]


    -


    After a few more fights like that we''ve starting to use up our mana, despite the advance warning.


    I want to ask when we''re finally going to arrive. But just now the road winds around a large tree and in a wide yellow-gold circle.


    [We''re here,] Alpheba whispers, [the fairy queen''s garden.]


    Around the edge of the circle stand hedges trimmed into a variety of shapes, animals, people, and monsters.


    She turns around. [William, good that you''re here. Can you... stay here and quard our backs. Just to make sure nothing''s followed us.]


    [You want the mage to block the corridor?]


    [You''re a trained knight, aren''t you?]


    [Fair enough.]


    We leave him behind and walk towards the outer edge of the circle. Lights are flowing all round us.


    [Look!] Lenore squeals excitedly. [Fairies.]


    What seems like floating points of light are actually little people with butterfly wings, tending to the gardens and encircling us.


    [Don''t touch them!] Alpheba peeps. [They''re very fragile.]


    Xandra freezes in the middle of trying to grab one out of the air.


    [Are they here to give you the feybloom?] I ask.


    [Not them.] Alpheba puts her backpack on the ground and pulls out a bell jar. [Caretaker. Appear and grant me the feybloom.]


    A grass covered mound between the hedges begins to move. Except it''s not a mound, it''s a hump-backed creature in a great green cloak.


    When it comes close to the edge of the circle a hand stretches out from under the cloak, holding a fluffy white object, a poofy bunny tail made up entirely out of flower petals.


    [Receeeiive the treasure of the queeeen~] It croaks like some sort of toad.


    [Rudy.] Alpheba asks in er nicest tone. [Please take the feybloom.]


    [Aren''t you supposed to?]


    [I''m holding the container. Now be carefuly, it''s very fragile.]


    Underneath her feet small magic circles are floating. She must be casting some powerful magic.


    I reach out to grab the fluffy flower, but when I touch it the petal cut me like glass! Ouch!


    The monster creaks in pain.


    [Careful, don''t break it!] Xandra scolds me.


    Don''t break it? It broke me! I can see trails of my blood seeping into the core of the peculiar plume.


    I try again. This time I put my hands underneath it and lift it out of the creature''s palm. Shakingly, I carry it over to her and place it on the wooden stulp of her bell jar. She quickly closes the glass over it.


    [You can go now.] She tells the cloaked figure.


    It slinks into the forest and is soon replaced by a grassy knoll.


    Alpheba breathes out deeply. The magic around her feet disappears.


    [Pyuu~ What kind of magic was that?]


    She shrugs humbly. [Just something to keep the bloom-]


    [That was control magic!] William grabs her roughly by the arm. He followed us! [You little poisoner, the captain was right to send me after you!


    The fairy queen doesn''t even know about all this, does she?]


    The jar with the bloom almost falls to the ground, I catch it and keep it upright. That''s the item we worked so hard to retrieve! It''s like glass, it''ll shatter!


    [No, let me go!] Alpheba cries in fear.


    [Let go of her!] [Yes! Pyuu~] The others ready their weapons.


    [Rudy, you know how the goblins are in league with the witch don''t you?] He turns to me now!? [Lacrima has been suspected of illicit activity for longer, I was supposed to catch them in the act, and I did. Tell them.]


    [I... Don''t know anything.] The goblins are in league with the witch? I didn''t say that? Those are his own weird conclusions.


    [We''re only trying to cure the plague. He''s hurting me!] What Alpheba says at least fits what we''re seeing.


    [I said: let go of her!] Xandra jumps in the air. She feints an attack with her weapon and then kicks his shoulder, forcing him to let go of the girl.


    Lenore goes to stand in front of me and Alpheba, as Xandra takes in a battle stance across from William.


    [You little brats!] He points his wand and it looks like a mighty fire spell is forming!


    But suddenly his face goes pale and his arms slump. He''s been hit! A vine protruding from the earth with green glowing thorns has emerged from the ground behind him and is piercing his body. The weapon keeps him in place, but he''s dead.


    [I had to.] Alpheba sobs. [He was going to kill us...]


    Lenore hugs her. [It''s not your fault, pyuu~]


    [We killed a knight... Xandra says slowly.]


    We killed a knight? We killed a knight! That''s a noble! That''s something you''d be exiled for normally, wouldn''t it?


    [But he was a bad guy, so it was okay, right?] She laughs.


    Was he really though? We acted in the heat of the moment, but could it be that Alpheba really...


    Suddenly Alpheba jumps up. [We need to leave!]


    [What''s wrong?]


    [Our alloted time is up. We need to leave the forest.]


    [Pyuuu~? What are you talking about?]


    But I can feel it too. The light has dimmed, the winds have turned, it''s like the forest itself has turned against us.


    From outside the fairy path two humanoid figures wearing chitin like armor approach.


    [Mantis Knights!] Alpheba panics. [Those are level C monsters!]


    Level C?


    ...


    Level C!


    [Everybody run!] We begin sprinting back the way we came.


    [They can''t follow us out of the woods,] Alpheba says, she''s being carried by Alpheba because it''s faster, [we just need to make it out!]


    I hear a scary buzzing sound. They''re flying with pairs of bug wings on their backs, at this rate they''ll catch up!


    [Having a mage handy would be useful right now!] Xandra pants, [do you have anything else in your back of tricks, Rudy?]


    I grab my spellpaper. Burning it on the ground won''t do it this time, so I pin them on some throwing knifes and throw them at them.


    As we run I can just over my shoulder see how they''re enveloped in smokey clouds. Hopefully that''ll slow them down.


    -


    There are more aggressive animals on the road, with what mana we have left we kill them as quickly as possible before they block our path.


    Eventually, we have to resort to swerving around them, risking life and limb with acrobatic jumps and dodges.


    This is slowing us down too much. Now the buzzing becomes audible again.


    I keep my head down and just keep sprinting.


    Light!


    Yes!


    We jump out between the trees and roll over the mud bridge, which Alpheba collapses immediately with her magic.


    We''ve made it out! We''ve survived the witchwood!


    The monsters growl at us from behind the treeline, but don''t follow. I don''t know what magic keeps them there, I can only be grateful.


    [And the feybloom? Did we save the feybloom!?] Xandra scrambles around a bit panickingly.


    [Who cares about the quest. Xandra, we could have died you know!] It takes all my willpower not to scream at her.


    [Fufufu. I have it!] Lenore proudly displays the bell jar with the quest item in it. [Pyuu! Praise me!]


    [Lenore, well done!] Xandra hugs the cat-girl.


    [Don''t drop it, don''t drop it!] Alpheba hisses between her teeth.


    [What do we do now?] I ask.


    [We go back.] Alpheba states. [My master will know what to do.]


    [But how do we get back? We''re out of mana, energy, and health.]


    Fodder we can take. But if a serious threat would be devastating right now. Whether it''s mana, items, or health, we''re all at our limits.


    [Didn''t I say it''s fine?] Alpheba pouts. [Goblins don''t cluster together in groups that big outside of their nests anyway.]


    Just as she says that a troll swings from between the trees and lands inches away from my feet. It''s looking at the ground by growls menacingly.


    Level D! That''s a level D enemy!


    I take in my battle pose, pointing my knife straight at it.


    Just then I see them, from the other side of the river. The glistening eyes of half a dozen hobgoblins and twice as many wolves.


    [Oh no...]


    <hr>


    Petal Boar


    Family: Beasts


    Threat Level: E


    Reward: 5 copper pieces


    A monster mostly found in enchanted forests. It can be recognized by its flower-like appearance.


    Petal boars are much more docile than their mundane cousins, and will let adventurers it does not see as a threat freely pass through its territory.


    However, as with many ''petal'' monsters the petal boar is affected by the aura of a fairy queen and can go berserk if the forest is threatened. In that case it will make use of weakening pollen and poison clouds to subdue the enemy, alongside its devastating tusks. Small plants in the surrounding area can also be manipulated by the monster to move in accordance to its will.


    If one is attacked by a petal boar the best strategy is to move away from bushes and weeds, avoid using plant based magic, and if possible use fire magic to burn the plantlike petals on its body.

 Acting Familiar

    "Remind me again what the one thing was that you were not supposed to do?"


    "Bother the adventurers..."


    "And what did you do?"


    "It''s not our fault!" Ada fell out against her father. "They threatened us first!"


    He peered around her waist to the youths sitting on the stone street, they were being harassed by his other child, Felix. "Dammit, I know those two."


    "Do we... send them away?" She asked.


    "I''ll go talk to them. You keep your eye on the sky, see if you can find any owls."


    That suggestion scared her and she fearfully looked around at the cloudy heaven.


    -


    "And this? What''s this for?" Felix had turned the pat down into an interrogation as he obsessed over the novel new killing implements they''d brought along.


    "It''s razor wire, it''s used for traps. Give it back please." Rudy had a polite tone of voice but he was clearly tired and impatient.


    "Why? Do you want to use it?"


    "It''s just for traps."


    "It''s for garroting," Scratch corrected him, "you''re a hitman now, are ya?"


    "What do we do with them?" Ada asked.


    Her father put on a magnanimous face. "We give them the standard adventurer treatment."


    The captives eyed each other in concern.


    <hr>


    "And this our water tower," Scratch explained in a tour-guidey way.


    The adventurers and their client had been undone of their bindings and were being led around the entire promise.


    "Aimone here set it up, he is our minister of waterworks," he patted the man''s leg as if it was his shoulder, "flown in from the land of water."


    "Managgia, don''t touch me subhuman."


    "He''s a bit temperamental. Next, let''s have a look at the manor. I live their with my girl-"


    "Why are you showing us all this?" The cat-eared girl said defiantly.


    Scratch stared perplexed at the moving feline biology sticking up from her head. "I''m sorry... what was the question?"


    "Papa is showing you we''re a peaceful society," Ada poked her back with a stick, sharped to a painful but not quite sharp point, "so you stop coming here to kill us."


    "We''re not here to kill goblins," the green haired with apprentice insisted, "we were on a mission in the witchwood."


    "Think of us as a welcoming committee." The patriarch retorted. "A little tour of the facilities as a gift."


    "But you''re forcing us."


    "You wouldn''t want to be impolite to the welcoming committee, would you?"


    As they were walking towards the manor, Lydia Harkness suddenly appeared in front of them. She looked at her most intimidating, a metal breastplate and her throwing knives displayed on her belt.


    "There we have her, fbi''s most wanted." Scratch greeted her.


    As her way of curbing his nonsense words she put her hand over his head for a condescending head rub.


    "We''ve organized lodgings for you tonight." She told the prisoners. "Tomorrow morning I''ll escort you to the edge of the forest myself."


    Scratch lifted her hand from his eyes. "Wanna put them in the living room?"


    "Huckabee and his friends have some spare room." She said, "and they can defend themselves."


    -


    Not too long after the tour concluded and the adventurers were brought to the bandit''s home.


    Their temporary lodgings was a squat brick building with a carpeted floor and very small windows.


    The light inside was generated by candles and the occasional magic. During the daylight hours, the usual inhabitants were outside anyway.


    They were gathered in the living room, were the bandits could see all of them at the same time, given itchy horse hair blankets and told to sleep on the floor.


    "Pyuu~ this food is gross." Their vanguard stuck out her tiny tongue in disgust.


    "It''s better than they had last time." The martial artist shrugged, jamming the undercooked potato slices into her mouth, "maybe ish jush cause I''m hungry," she mumbled through a mouthful.


    "Where did they get corn from? We didn''t get to see corn fields on that tour..." The rogue speculated.


    "Hey, Hey." Huckabee pointed at them as authoritatively as possible, "eat your soup, I don''t want to hear anything other than slurping sounds."


    "It''s supposed to be soup?" The boy asked incredulously.


    -


    "How about you all go to sleep," Huckabee suggested, "the sooner you fall asleep the sooner you''ll get up to leave."


    "It''s got to be, like, eight o''clock." The martial artist said.


    "Yeah... well... We can just sit here and keep staring at each other..."


    They did for a few minutes but it was untenable.


    "What made you decide to become a bandit?" The martial artist eventually asked.


    "Nobody decides to become a bandit," Huckabee scoffed, "I had to."


    "But why?" She insisted.


    "Listen, just go to sleep. Miss Harkness told me not to talk to you or I might reveal some secrets."


    "Your name is Huckabee isn''t it?" The rogue changed the subject, "Do you remember me? I''m Rudy, these are my party members Xandra and Lenore."


    "Lenore Purma." The abhuman vanguard added.


    "And over there is Alpheba, the witch''s apprentice."


    "Hmmm, yeah, nicetameetcha." He responded to the pleasantries with a quick return, almost automatic, but he immediately regretted it.


    Rudy was emboldened to keep talking. "How long have you been working for Harkness?"


    "A few ye- Who says we work for her?"


    "You just said that."


    Huckabee looked extremely uncomfortable. He felt as if the much younger children were outsmarting him.


    "What about the goblins that live here? Does Harkness control them to?" Xandra added pressure to the interrogation.


    "No, that''s Scratch. I mean... there might have been a monster tamer... or something."


    "Monster tamer? There''s a monster tamer in the bandit camp?"


    "Monster tamers are rare," said the witch apprentice, "it''s a bloodline ability. Much like witchcraft."


    "Oooh." The kids cooed from the intrigue, Huckabee became increasingly flustered.


    "No more questions." He insisted. "Everybody lay down and stare at the ceiling."


    Just as they did, the front door swung open. "Everybody get up," Scratch''s voice commanded cheerfully, "we''re having a reunion party!"


    Pouring in came Cobaline and her mother Denise, a few of the original goblin family that had housed Rudy and Xandra, and You There, looking innocuously human in his knight academy uniform.


    It did not slip by Rudy that Denise held her daughter firmly away from the schoolboy.


    "You know, Rudy and Xandra helped build the old workshops around the cave," Scratch explained, "they''re part of a small group of people we''ve come to know."


    "Those of us that lived." Rudy spat.


    "Right. So I brought out some of the old group to say hi. We can make it a pleasant evening, swap anecdotes, play boardgames..."


    "I don''t think they want to talk to us Papa," Mac remarked.


    "Well we don''t have any board games." He answered.


    -


    "Rudy, hi!" Little Cobaline ran up to him and made an awkward bow, it was clear that it was something she had been told to do and wasn''t practiced in.


    Having gotten the formality out of the way she immediately asked what she came there to ask. "Where is Letta now? Is she an adventurer like you?"


    "N-no, Letta lives in the orphanage. She would be starting an apprenticeship now." Rudy explained, though he wasn''t sure.


    "Hi there cutie! Are you Cobaline? Pyuu~" Lenore purred.


    She shook her head. "No, just Cobaline, no family name. But my mom''s here!" She pointed at her mother, who was keeping an eye on them from a few paces back. She gave a tiny wave.


    The human girl didn''t have much time to talk, because the goblin family all swarmed them, talking over each other and inquiring about the life of an adventurer.


    "Do you have any bread from the city?" "Did you see our new wall?" "We have doggies!" They were eager to reconnect with childhood friends they''d known for two weeks a few months ago.


    "That''s enough, let me through." Lydia Harkness pushed her in-laws aside to come up to the party.


    "Lydia." Xandra stated.


    "Xandra." Lydia returned.


    "So you liked it here so much you decided to stay."


    "We combined forces to survive."


    "If I remember, you let us go." Rudy cut through the tension. "You didn''t have to do that. Thank you."


    "They killed Dave." Xandra whispered angrily.


    "The goblins did," he answered, "the bandits made them release us and Letta."


    "We have a policy of clemency." Harkness said slowly and enunciated, "we do not kill if we don''t have to. However, I am here to tell you-"


    "Yes?"


    "Do not abuse that good will. If you continue to threaten my family, I won''t hesitate to punish you. Am I clear?"


    "...yes." Rudy said with a meek tone, his seemingly intimidated tone was partly an act to keep her happy.


    The bandit leader stepped aside to let the curious children swarm the out-of-towners. She joined Scratch and Huckabee at the other corner of the room, You There was clinging to his master and whispering continuously into his ear. Every so often Scratch would show interest in what he had to say or nod in understanding.


    -


    Lenore reveled in the attention. Soon she was regaling the goblins with stories of their adventures.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "And there I was," she mimed her situation heavily, holding up an imaginary shield, "the last vanguard standing, pyuu, the only thing between my comrades, and a deathly storm of shredding thorns."


    "It was only a rank E cactipod..." Rudy remarked sheepishly.


    But the kids were all fascinated, clinging to her artful performance with their mouths agape.


    Alpheba patted Rudy and Xandra on the shoulders and pulled them away while they were distracted.


    "Do you feel that?" She said in a soft tone. "Our mana is returning more quickly."


    "Now that you mention it, I feel a lot better..." Xandra muttered.


    "I should be able to cast Geros'' Poison Cloud soon. It''s stronger in confined spaces. If you''re prepared for it, we can kill their leaders and escape."


    "That''s daring Alphie." Xandra responded, almost too loud, "you''re like an adventurer."


    "They said they wouldn''t harm us though..." Rudy said hesitantly.


    "That''s true." Xandra was of two minds.


    "Aren''t you adventurers? You''re supposed to kill goblins and bandits, aren''t you? We can''t *trust* them."


    "Tell me why we had to kill Bill," Xandra was suddenly angry, "can we even trust you?"


    "That''s-" Alpheba froze up in alarm. "I... I''m just trying to..."


    "Alpheba just wants to help, Xandra," Rudy said diplomatically, "don''t be like that."


    Their secret scheming was interrupted when they were called out by Huckabee.


    "What are you lot whispering about?"


    "Nothing." Xandra was quick to assert, "we aren''t escaping."


    Rudy nudged her with his elbow.


    Huckabee looked a bit confused. "Yeah, well, good. Witch girl comes with me."


    Xandra went to stand in front of her. "What do you want her for?"


    Scratch appeared from behind him. "We''re just mingling. No good to cluster together, is it? How will you make new friends?"


    Although they didn''t take hold of her physically, they showed a strong insistence on having her come outside with them, leaving Rudy and Xandra alone.


    -


    "At that point... all we could do was run." Lenore''s storytelling had become more indulgent and over-dramatic with every passing sentence, "as the entire might of the forest banded together, I could feel the magic of the fairies tingling against the back of my ears, pyuu~. We just kept running and didn''t look back."


    Rudy and Xandra were standing off to the side, just as much part of the audience as the rest.


    They kept their eyes straight ahead, looking at the show while they exchanged the occasional word. Mostly to comment upon Lenore Purma''s many liberties with the truth.


    "Do you remember what I told you, about... my memories?" Rudy whispered to her.


    "You said you didn''t want to talk about it." She responded.


    "Yes, but..."


    "But you think the goblin leader might be like you."


    He glanced at her with his mouth slightly open. "How did you know?"


    She laughed a little. "We''ve know- *I*''ve known *you* all my life. You used to do the same thing, were you say bizarre things as if they''re normal.


    And every time he does that you react like-" She pulled a silly exaggerated face, quasi-intrigued and wavering.


    "I just... I don''t know."


    "You told me they spoke a different language in your previous world," she whispered, "if he recognizes Neeponese, that should prove it, shouldn''t it?"


    He nodded. "You''re right, that''s a good idea. Thank you."


    She looked at Lenore again, "Rudy, a reincarnation from a different world. You realize how that sounds right, mister ''just want to be normal''?


    That''s the sort of thing that comes with an epic destiny."


    "That''s why I''m trying to keep it a secret." He said unhappily.


    -


    Not too long after that, Alpheba returned.


    "You were right," she said immediately, "it''s safer to let them bring us home."


    "What made you change your mind?" Rudy asked.


    "Nothing, let''s not talk about it anymore."


    It was highly suspicious, and the goblin leader and his human looking companion had not come back inside alongside her.


    <hr>


    "What did I command you not to do?" The witch''s icy voice cut through the cave.


    She had arrived in owl form in the promise. After briefly showing herself to her apprentice she had gone downstairs where there were arrangements for her reception.


    At the very edge of the dockyard was a hut with a bird entrance where she had her pickings of dignified women''s clothing. However, she was not in the mood to show grace for this hospitality.


    "Well?" She sneered.


    Scratch and the demon stood in front of her like schoolchildren being scolded. "There were... complications." The goblin offered.


    "Complications? Hah! How complicated can it be? You have no idea what forces you''re meddling with."


    "You''re right, we don''t." Scratch gestured humility with his arms. "If we did, we would be much more able to handle the situation delicately." The small men looked at each other and the demon nodded accordingly. "We want to help you." Scratch said on a transparent helpful tone. "Help us help you."


    The witch stretched out her hand, seemingly about to cast some sort of harmful magic, but changed her mind. She brought the hand to her face and massaged the wrinkles in her forehead. "Well, fine."


    So they cleared out the space of possible eavesdroppers and found a place to sit.


    "You''re a clever sort, you understand how and why the Thieves'' Guild branches keep secrets from each other." She began.


    "Sure. You even put on that tea lady act when humans are present."


    "When loose tongues are." She corrected him, "I do not want the smuggling pillar to know about the extend of my magic, they should know just enough to fear me, and no more. As far as they know, my business under the guild''s protection is only in the embezzling of construction grants and secret chambers."


    "While you''re actually..." He petered out the phrase with an expecting tone.


    She huffed. "Did you remember my display of transformation magic? I turned you into frogs, didn''t I?"


    "Well, not me personally." Scratch failed to see the bigger picture or general direction of the conversation.


    You There turned to whisper in his ear, bringing his lips much closer than needed. "Master, you should have informed me of this, such a transformation is the mark of an accomplished sage. Witches carry the blessing of Guth, goddess of magic. Transformation magic is their domain, but not to that degree. The ability to invoke all the qualities of a singular species on multiple targets is a tremendous achievement. She must have lived a life of singular devotion to reach that level."


    "I see." Scratch nodded, pulling his ear away from the demon''s cold lips. "So there was more implied there than the threat."


    "I have dedicated my life to the accumulation of magic," she went on, "but still I have not achieved the recognition of the goddess."


    She clenched a frail old fist.


    "For the past lustrum and a half I have waged war with my sister over control of the witchwood. At my age the specter of death approaches fast, it -excuse me-" she wiped the sweat of her brow "I can no longer afford to be patient."


    "A war? This involves sending children out to pick flowers?"


    "The feybloom contains the budding essence of fairy-kind itself. Fairies recognize those that have attacked their forest in the past, so a new escort is needed every time."


    "Well," Scratch crossed his arms, "that story checks out with what we know."


    She was alarmed. "Checks out? Checks out how?"


    "Apparently a member of the team had a breakdown and accused your girl of all sorts of nefarious stuff. They chose her side, but the story is out there. I suppose we kill them before they spread it."


    Lacrima took in the news and looked pensive for a moment. "That won''t be necessary. The bloom contains the boy''s blood, I can use it to control them. It would attract unwanted attention to both of us if they died here."


    -


    "That reminds me," Scratch began, "I hope we can count on you to vote in favor of us."


    "What are you talking about now?" The witch sighed.


    You There looked equally surprised.


    "The knights are everywhere because of us," Scratch explained, "because they''ve been sent here to deal with the goblin menace. Very soon your fellow leaders are going to wonder if they''d rather have us around or the knights gone, right?"


    A look of understanding slowly crept over the woman''s face, wrinkle by wrinkle, until it had reached her brow. "I see..."


    "Now I know Mabel relies on us. But miss Lacrima, you like us as well don''t you? That''s why you armed us, as the first line of defense against those fairy creatures."


    "Tch." The witch scoffed. "I have my own bodies to fill those suits of armor. You lot prove to me you''re worth the trouble." She looked pensive for a moment, then she said, "show your competence by protecting these forges from those brutes pouring in."


    "Brutes? What brutes?"


    "The underground trolls that have breached your meager walls, had you really not noticed?"


    Scratch looked behind him. Nothing was visible through the dense mess of stalagmites, the witch had to have seen it happen from a bird''s eye view.


    "So then you- Hey wait!" He called out at her as she turned around.


    She fluttered her robe and suddenly she was an owl again, flying off into the night.


    A chorus of triumphant animalistic grunts echoed through the cavern, close enough to be heard.


    "Let''s go get the fighters," Scratch ordered his demon, "we have to evacuate."


    <hr>


    The bandits were pulled away from guarding the adventurers to protect the goblins from the wild trolls.


    They would never be able to slay the horde by themselves, but they could hold the line while the smelters and harbor goblins escaped.


    Though boisterous, the trolls did not pursue fleeing enemies, so everybody made it out pretty much unhurt in the long run.


    Despite the relaxed security Xandra''s group did not break out and was retrieved for an escort the next day.


    -


    "It''s a dog-sled," Second explained to the leaving party with conflicted pride, "because we have the legs of multiple dogs we can move heavy things."


    "These are wolves though?" Xandra stated, half questioningly.


    "These are definitely wolves." Alpheba added.


    Those leaving where the adventurers and their client, alongside Scratch, Jasper, and Ada to escort them. They would be traveling on Second''s new creation, a wood and leather sled pulled by half a dozen dogs.


    "Second, you tested these, right?" Scratch asked more privately, while inspecting the smooth wooden runners underneath the platforms, "can they really do the, you know, hobbles?"


    Second shook his head, "only smooth paths."


    "So we''ll have to take the carriage route then. I didn''t want to show it to the kids, but I suppose with the speed we''re going they won''t be drawing up any maps."


    Before he stepped onto the sled Second held onto his arm. "Again? You''re letting them go again? They feel so safe doing whatever they want to us."


    Scratch touched his brother''s cheek. "You''re going to have to stomach it, okay? After today you won''t have to look at them anymore."


    "Unless they come back again."


    "If they come back again, we will kill them." He assured him.


    He took the reins of the young wolves and flicked it. "Hi-ya!"


    Nothing happened.


    The canines just looked at him as if he was crazy.


    Then he leaned over the front and asked nicely. "Could you please bring us through the mud-trail? We gotta drop of these kids and their-"


    Immediately they sprinted off, causing all those on the sled to have to hang on for dear life.


    The speed of the vehicle, the lack of coordination of the dogs, and the uneven-ness of the path caused them to jump around like an agitated animal.


    At times, the sled was airborne for seconds at a time, catching wind at the underside.


    The cat girl had herself wrapped around the bell jar with the precious cargo and had to be held on to by her teammates.


    -


    Eventually, however, they did arrive at the edge of the goblin''s territory. At a spot much closer to Eston than where they''d entered it.


    "Hop off," Scratch commanded, "I think I''m going to puke."


    He wasn''t quite able to expel anything from his stomach, but he did lean against a tree trying.


    The warg wolves in the sled made a barking laughing sound among themselves over their leader''s helper''s weakness.


    Rudy walked up to him and, after breathing in deeply, offered the words "By¨­kidesu ka?"


    "What?" Scratch had no idea what he meant, "is that a magic spell?"


    "Uh. No. Never mind."


    "Listen," he turned around to address the whole group, "you''ve been told this before, but I want to reiterate. Don''t come back to the Promise. We can''t be nice with you anymore when you do, I can promise (hehe) you that."


    "It''s the same for us," Xandra clenched her fist, "don''t think just because you didn''t kill us once that doesn''t mean you''re nice guys. We remember what you did to David! To Theresa!"


    Ada damn near screamed, "Everybody wanted to kill you! You''re lucky Papa wanted us to let you go!"


    "And you have to do what he says, don''t you?" Xandra said challengingly.


    "I don''t have to. You-"


    "That''s enough heartfelt goodbyes," Scratch decided, "we''re going back. Ada, you can try taking the reins this time."


    The two girls stuck their tongues out at each other and the groups split up.


    <hr>


    A week or two went by trying to adjust to not having access to the harbor town and smelters.


    With all the goblins on the surface, it became clear just how many of them there were now. They made the small Promise look like the shopping district of a busy metropolis.


    They could be kept busy for a while, furnishing the newly cleared out space around the top of the elevator and creating new bedding for the growing wolf pack.


    But eventually, a way had to be found to win back the lost level.


    -


    "They''re... my family?" Bree looked out hesitantly over the edge of the cargo platform.


    Everybody living and working there had been safely escorted out, but the trolls had not fully claimed the cavern insides. They were loitering about the space were they had broken through the wall. On occasion one would break off to venture towards the smelters, but never for long.


    "We want to know what they want," Scratch explained, "just try talking to them."


    The surface raised troll had reached almost full height, being as tall as a human in her hunched over form with hands that could completely envelop her adoptive father''s torso.


    "Your father and I are right behind you if anything goes wrong. So are your brothers and sister." Lydia told her. "Don''t be scared."


    "What if they hate me?" The troll asked.


    "No skin off your back if they hate you," Scratch stated authoritatively, "you are too important to let some cavemen affect you."


    "They will not." Her mother insisted.


    "Are we gonna go down or what?" Ada tapped her foot ostentatiously on the ground, showing impatience.


    "We''ll go down, we wouldn''t want to keep the trolls waiting."


    -


    The family kept a distance from Bree so that she could confront the trolls herself.


    It functioned as a small lesson in stealth as Lydia showed them what path and shelter to take to remain unseen.


    On the wooden pathway towards the shattered wall they came across the first troll. It was a male, he had large tusks and stood on all fours like Bree.


    Having explored the space at his own pace and finding nothing that interested him he was tearing at the boardwalk with a bored expression.


    "H-hi." The surface raised troll tried introducing herself.


    The troll man looked up. He had a sort of surprised look on his face, sniffed the air, and began to hop in a circle around here.


    At all times he only made grunting noises.


    "He... can''t talk." She said to the darkness behind her.


    "Hwa. Haa!" The beast hopped ahead of her, back towards her, and ahead of her. It was like he was gesturing for her to follow him.


    "Go then." Scratch whispered. "He''s introducing you to his group."


    "We can''t protect her against the whole group." Lydia told him. But they were already on their way.


    -


    The speed at which the trolls bounded forwards the others had to run to keep up.


    Eventually they could see the space opening up and the two trolls joining a mass of close to thirty trolls. Each was sitting away from the others, but they were sitting close enough together to be a collective.


    "What''s happening, do we attack?" Felix asked, readying a piece of razor wire.


    "Shh. Your little sister is making first contact." Scratch hissed.


    They were standing with their backs against a row of stalagmites, daring only to take little peeks past the edge.


    As soon as Bree and her guide arrived at the group, a bunch of trolls stepped out of the way, letting through and older specimen covered with scars on his arms.


    "Hello, my name is-"


    *whack!*


    The male started off the interaction with a mighty backhand, smacking his enormous hand against her shoulder and staggering her.


    Before it was clear to anybody what had damn well happened he grabbed her shoulder and drove her face into the jagged stone floor.


    Then he proceeded to sit on her.


    Some of the surrounding trolls made a screeching noise, but mostly it didn''t seem to elicit much of a reaction.


    The older troll stood up off her and walked away.


    "We have to rescue her." Felix strung the wire tightly between his hands when suddenly Bree stormed past his stalagmite.


    None of the trolls had tried to stop her as she bolted away.


    -


    They found her curled up next to a smoldering oven almost at the other side of the cavern.


    Felix immediately embraced her to heal the wounds.


    She had a cut on her face and a bruise on her shoulder, but that wasn''t what she was crying about.


    "W-why doh-hon''t they want me?" Tears streamed down her dark grey cheeks. "What''s wrong with me?"


    "Bree, nothing''s wrong with you. They''re..." Lydia looked at Scratch for support, but he threw up his hands in defeat.


    "We''ll kill ''em." Ada swore. "I swear We''ll kill ''em."


    <hr>


    Demonic Subversion


    Among the different species of demon, there are many that operate by seducing prominent individuals to evil.


    The guild does not accept quests that violate the law of the area or cause undue suffering and disorder. For personal quests adventurer''s must use their own judgment to determine when a quest giver has fallen to evil, and oppose them if necessary. Any party that fails to do so will be considered culpable.


    -


    There are a number of symptoms of corruption that adventurers can use to alert themselves to possible demonic influences:


    1. Unusual behavior. Corrupted individuals may exhibit dulled or heightened emotions, reacting to mundane occurrences with great theater or to shocking news with relative detachment. Manic laughter is a common giveaway.


    2. Strange Company. Many demons have the ability to take human form. When a ruler begins to take counsel from an outsider, unknown by all, or pays regular visits to some unknown destination, this can indicate unvetted parties taking an indue influence in their affairs.


    3. Physical deformation. A person altered by magic may experience discolored eyes, veins of unnatural colors visible through the skin, tumors and rashes, or radical departures from the humanoid body plan. If there is no rational explanation for such an altered appearance, the individual should not be trusted.

 Strength and Power

    [The captain wants to talk to us?] This is getting serious, didn''t we kill a noble? That''s grounds for executions, right? No matter where you live.


    The guild receptionist seems to notice my concern. [A knight wouldn''t blame civilians for another knight falling in battle. He knew the risks, if anything, captain Harkness probably wants to thank you for fighting alongsde him.]


    I don''t know about that, but then again, he wouldn''t know what had really happened, would he?


    [Can''t we just pass on a message that its no trouble and leave?] Xandra smiles awkwardly. It''s only half a joke.


    [No. We musn''t.] Lenore is in dignified noble mode again. [As adventurers we have reached a level now where we can no longer ignore diplomatic relations. We''re representatives of the guild now.]


    That''s exactly why I didn''t want all these promotions!


    The receptionist nods. [You are young, but you''re probably the highest ranked members here that aren''t tied up in administration. I wouldn''t be surprised if you''re named a hero Rudy.]


    Ugh.


    Keeping all these secrets does not make me feel like a hero.


    -


    The knight captain has commandeered an empty office in the guild house.


    This time with proper escort we''re led upstairs, passing an unpleasant looking Mildred and put before the captain.


    [Sir Harkness, it is our honor to be of service to the renkown Harkness family.] Lenore makes a bow.


    The man makes a quick gesture back and stands up. [Let''s do away with the pleasantries and get to business. How much do you know about Lacrima''s shadow war?]


    [What are you talking about?] I quickly ask.


    [James, close the door.]


    Another knight shuts the door behind us and stands before it with his arms crossed.


    This is bad isn''t it? It''s really bad!


    [What are you doing?] Xandra has the same instincts I do. It seems like they''re trapping us.


    [The guild master, Arnold, is currently in house arrest. We have reason to believe he was taking bribes from the witch.]


    I hold my breath. Was this part of the original time line? [What about the other staff? What about Marie?]


    He raises an eyebrow. [The other guild members are being allowed to continue their duties. From what I understand Marie was a former member that was killed in action this year. Do you have any contraditing information?]


    [N-no.]


    That''s impossible though! Or is it? Did I do anything to change the story of the game?


    He sighs deeply. [According to the guild archives Lacrima commissions an adventuring party to penetrate the deep woods every five months or so. Each time it is a targeted request.]


    [Every five months? But the feybloom was meant to combat the snakescale plague that recently broke out pyuu!]


    [Miss Purma, do you know of the Twicaster family?]


    [Pyuu~? A knight family isn''t it? Healers and bishops I believe.]


    [That''s right. A number of them are with the regiment in this city. I trust their judgement more than anything. They tell me this affliction is magical in nature. Likely created by Lacrima herself.]


    [What!]


    [No Way!]


    [Pyuu!]


    All of us are shocked to hear this.


    He continues. [The feybloom is the source of the fairy queen''s power. Using the adventurers'' guild Lacrima has waged a secret war against the fairies of the witchwood, pitting us all against them.]


    [Is- Is Elpheba in on the conspiracy?] I ask meekly. If she is, do we admit what happened? What will happen to us if we do?


    [That we don''t know. The orphanage has been blocked off and surrounded. We''re worried that she might use her apprentice or the orphans hostage.]


    [Oh no... Letta.]


    [What do you want from us?] Xandra boldly asks.


    Captain Harkness stands up and paces around, looking at the pictures on the wall. [You''ve been to the bandit hideout.]


    [Yes?]


    [You should probably be told... the bandit leader was once my daughter.]


    A silence falls over the room. Nobody wants to touch that subject.


    [However. This is not about me. This is about the goblin army. They cannot be allowed to threaten this town any longer.]


    [Excuse me Sir, pyuu-] Lenore asks politely, [Why are you so worried about these goblins? They''re not attacking any of the farmhouses, are they?]


    [Not yet. What do you know about the goblin called- ''Scratch''?] I notice how reluctant he is to say the name.


    [We did meet him. He seems to have a strange power over the rest.]


    The captain nods and rubs his chin. [Truth be told, the local monsters would not be getting this much attention if it weren''t for him. Many clerics have reported visions from Benesant declaring him an enemy of goodness. Likely, he must be practicing dark sorcery or demon summoning.]


    [That''s what you want from us.] Lenore now states with certainty. [Because Rudy has escaped their base twice already, you believe he can assassinate their leader.]


    [So was I!] Xandra states indignantly.


    This talk is dangerous enough to shake me out of my thoughts on the game''s story. [What? No. We only survived because the goblins spared us!]


    [Naturally, there will be a reward. The duke has written to me personally. Stating that the lands surrounding Eston should be made into a barony in order to better keep order. You are at an appropiate level of achievement now, the land could be yours. I''m sure the duke will agree.]


    What is he saying? That makes me want to do it even less! My ambitions of a quiet life are going up in smoke!


    [He''ll do it! Pyuu~!]


    What?!


    [Good. James, make sure they get any equipment or tool they need then send them on their way.]


    Is he ushering us out before I can take back what Lenore said?


    [Actually I-]


    He rushes out. [I can''t stay and chat, I''m needed at the orphanage. James, take care of it.]


    He really is!


    -


    We''re outside and I''m really upset now. [Lenore how could you! We can''t take on the whole goblin army.]


    [Yeah,] Xandra chimes in, [no offense kitty, but this is like something I would do.]


    She points her noise into the air. [I don''t know about you, but I know what goblins are like, pyuu, and those weren''t goblins.]


    I pause. It''s true that Scratch and his goblins are less ugly than in most other parts of the world. They don''t have the scabs and boils, or the gauntness with the potbelly.


    Besides all that, they''re smarter and less aggressive too.


    [Pyuu. They''re harmless. Beastmen were once treated just like that just because we''re different, dontcha know? I know what my mother would say, she''d say we''d have to put a stop to this extermination. Pyuu~]


    [Then why-?]


    [Rudy,] she puts her hand on my shoulder, [without Scratch, the knights will have no reason to attack the promise.]


    [Lenore... is right.] Xandra sighs. [Biter, Kicker, even Second. None of them are evil. It was just Scratch that had them kill Dave and do those things to Theresa.]


    [Rudy, when you become the Baron of this land you can ensure the other goblins live. Pyuu.]


    [But...] What about living a normal life?


    <hr>


    Trading by boat was now in full swing, and the latest import from the civilized world was something very pleasing to Scratch, a mirror.


    Though not man-high for a human and likely meant for hanging above a bathroom sink, it was tall enough to show his full body when put on its side against the wall.


    Proudly, he inspected his tailor-made suit. A pinstripe 3 piece with a tie and matching trilby, which had stuck a long colorful basilisk feather in.


    The sleeve on his magic arm was shortened, and his usual loose garment covered the manabelt.


    It had been a logistical challenge getting measurements and having them realized by a tailor that he would never see face to face, but Barbara had managed come through for him, knowing she would receive a percentage of the steep fee.


    The vanity purchase had set the family back a great deal of money, leaving them unprepared for any unforeseen setbacks during the winter.


    That didn''t concern him much. With the suit on, he was finally himself again.


    Green and small, maybe. But not a monster, not a foundling or savage, a man in control of his destiny.


    With a pleased smile he inspected himself in the mirror, practicing hellos and goodbyes with his hat.


    Eventually he grew tired of his own company and his mind began to wander to the planned events of the day. The occasion for which he had dressed to smartly was not due yet, but it wouldn''t hurt setting out early and using the time to show off his clothes to everyone.


    Coming downstairs and leaving through the atrium, the inner square surrounded by the arms of the building, he had to dodge a horde of muddy goblins and dogs running in and out of the dungeon entrance.


    -


    There was more traffic to and fro now. The room around the top of the elevator had been greatly expanded by use of Lacrima''s spellpaper.


    As an appeasing gift to the wolves Scratch had enlisted many of the displaced and idle goblins from below into building additional resting baskets, the wooden flooring with rounded holes in them with soft materials to serve as sleeping spots.


    There were close to a hundred wolves under the wind wolf''s command now, including the young pups and other packs that had merged into this one, so the sheer number of baskets was daunting and many of those at the outer edges were being skimped. Still, Barbara''s goblins had developed a skill and confidence using tools, many had calluses on their hands from dedicated monotonous work.


    The wolves were pleased enough with the result and showed it with a greater willingness to indulge the goblins. It was now not uncommon for hobgoblins to led themselves be sledded around by a handful of wolves even without urgent justification.


    -


    Felix and Constantine were just racing into town like that, scaring and endangering all users of the public road by wildly shooting past the wall and up to the mansion.


    The two hobgoblins arrived at the front at almost the same time and jumped out to run to the boarded up well in a competition on who could touch it first.


    "Yes!" Felix declared triumphantly. His hand might not have been the one to touch the object first, but he said it so confidently that even his opponent came to believe it.


    "Did you have fun joyriding?" Scratch remarked stiffly.


    "It wasn''t for fun, we were being serious!" Felix insisted, "mom said someone had to tour the colonies and we did."


    Scratch looked at the boys, the sleds, and back again waiting to see if they would be making excuses for their wildcat behavior during a serious mission, but they didn''t acknowledge it.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    "Well?" He inquired.


    "It''s safe again," Constantine reported, "there were adventurers and big cats but we defeated them and send them back like you said."


    "Where''s your sister?"


    "Ada wanted to stay behind for a bit," Constantine explained, then, as if it reminded him of it, he said "do we have to let the adventurers live?


    The mothers are always saying they wouldn''t be bothering us if they were afraid of death. One almost killed Piers yesterday."


    Scratch moved his lips to the side of his mouth. "I told you all this already, didn''t I? Two reasons: First of all, you''re winning so easily because they have the option to surrender without dying." He looked at him austerely to drive home the point. "And secondly, the adventurers guild sends more experienced killers based on the body count, so we don''t want to raise that."


    "But that- I-" Constantine wasn''t able to properly voice his misgivings.


    "Oh!" Felix slapped his hands together. "I took something from the adventurers." He went over to his sled to grab it.


    Out came an enormous weapon, a sickle moon of sharp blade with a wooden grip in the crook and a long unbroken edge on the rounded side, ending in a point on either end. It did seem not practical or elegant, but it looked very intimidating.


    "A double glaive!" He gleamed. "For Bree!"


    <hr>


    Laid out before the young troll were a variety of weapons.


    Lately, this kind of scenario would play out every day. Roused by the exciting rivalry between Bree and the other trolls, her siblings and other goblins would present new tools and techniques that could give her an edge.


    They were at the grassy fields behind the water tower, in a far corner within the Promise''s walls and near the cliff face. She and Felix were surrounded by more than a dozen bored goblin spectators while he attempted to sell her on his new deadly finds.


    "The double glaive," Felix picked up the moon-sickle weapon and demonstrated how to hold it, "with a curved blade you can slice more easily.


    See, like this?" He carved a few wide arcs through the air, keeping the blade moving in an unbroken line as he walked towards an imaginary opponent.


    With an unsure hand Bree took over the deadly implement. The two handed grip in the crook was large enough for one of her hands, but her large gorilla-like arms couldn''t be lifted above the shoulders very comfortably. And besides, bipedal locomotion was difficult for her.


    Awkwardly she waggled forward, spinning around a bit to steer the weapon through the sky. The general chatter of goblins became interspersed with some mocking laughter, which reddened her face.


    "Okay okay," unable to stand the sight of it her hobgoblin brother grabbed her arm and gently took the double glaive, "let''s try something else. A spear."


    The discarded weapons were quickly picked up by mischievous idle goblins in order to play with it like a toy and terrorize each other.


    "A spear?" She repeated questioningly.


    "Yes, he picked up a halberd. "Our family has been using spears from the very beginning you know. Stand like this and you can put your entire weight behind it. Hyah!" Again he demonstrated, the proper use of this weapon was apparently stationary, the legs wide and behind each other to withstand as much thrust as possible. "And this adventurer version has a hook on it, so you can intercept other weapons and then you turn it like that. Hoo! Hah!"


    He threw her the weapon and she was able to catch it.


    "Come on, try!"


    At first she tried his sideways stance, but she found a more comfortable position leaning forward. With one hand she jabbed the weapon in the air a few times. It was more similar to how others would use a dagger.


    Felix took a few paces of distance to observe her technique. He framed the image with his hands and pouted pensively like an artist. "Hhmm. Maybe not."


    "Can I go now?" Bree complained.


    "But why? Don''t you want to defeat them? We can try how you do with a whip."


    "I don''t think so." A voice suddenly said behind them. Again Lydia Harkness had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.


    "Mom!"


    "Felix, do you understand what these weapons are for?" She asked.


    He looked a little offended. "Uh, yeah. I have studied how to use every weapon that''s ever been in the forest. I''m designing my own-"


    She put her hand on his head. "They''re for killing Felix. That''s the last thing Bree needs right now."


    "What do you mean?"


    She went where the double glaive was and picked it up out of idle curiosity. "We''ve been downstairs many times now. The trolls wrestle Bree but they never go much further. And they never team up. It is a pecking order."


    Bree looked down at the ground. "They hate me because I''m weak..."


    "Nevertheless. A bladed weapon would change everything. Rather than a show of force it would become a fight to the death. And they would most definitely band together against her."


    Both subhumans were startled by the mental image.


    "Instead." She threw down her weapon and began to take off her gloves. "Let me show you some techniques from the academy."


    A harmonic "ooooh" rustled from the crowd as the spectators'' interest was raised.


    -


    Scratch''s techniques for grabbing and throwing were wasted on the troll''s body. Her shoulders simply did not have the range of movement to redirect strikes and lock the enemy in a hold.


    By contrast, Harkness'' striking style seemed to catch on quickly.


    In boxing, one holds their arms in front to protect the face and weaves the upper body in order to dodge. Bree''s arms were half her body weight and her torso more than half her height.


    When she held her arms up none of the rest of her body was visible, and when she ducked out of the way her entire body could swiftly dodge with minimal movement.


    Although it was awkward running on two legs, steps and side-steps were much easier and soon she could properly move up with her adoptive mother''s movements.


    The two made sure their hits would never actually connect. Mainly because even a trained knight wouldn''t be able to survive a full-strength blow from a troll.


    -


    The lesson lasted only about half an hour, but it greatly inspired the goblins and before long a mass of them had collected at the grassy field to box each other.


    They did not much care for sportsmanship either, deciding to kick below the belt and bite to their heart''s abandon, but also cry foul when their opponent did the same.


    Scratch, returning home from his diplomatic mission, was then greeted by a chaotic mess of goblins beating each other black and blue.


    "Hey, hey! What''s all this then?"


    "Oh, hello Scratch," Benjamin said hebetudinously while pushing away a half-conscious sparring partner, "you''ve got funny clothes on."


    "And you have a funny skull shape. Are you mimicking me? You know I didn''t lose these teeth on purpose."


    "No were were just- uh..."


    "Bree''s gonna fight the trolls again." The other goblin smiled. "We''re all very excited."


    -


    "Coming through. Watch the suit, watch the suit. It''s an expensive suit people."


    He pushed his way through to the center to find Harkness and Bree resting from their practice session.


    "Are you letting this go on?" He complained.


    "It''s good for them. Letting out their energy." She panted, "None of this is beyond Jasper. I''ve been practicing healing as well."


    He looked her in the eyes. "It''s been some time, did the last patrol come back yet?"


    "Ada is still in the forest?"


    The fact that even she did not know her location troubled him.


    <hr>


    [I''ll kill you! I''ll kill you!] The hobgoblin keeps yelling at us like that.


    We can''t use the sled either because all the wolves are trying to attack us.


    [Are you sure you remember the path back?] Xandra asks.


    [I do.]


    That''s not what worries me though! What worries me is what we do when we get there!


    Am I really supposed to sneak in and take out their leader all on my own?


    [You. Your name is Will, right?] Xandra asks the hobgoblin.


    That''s not a very goblin-y name at all.


    [I''ll kill you!] He screams again.


    [Shut-] she kicks the tied up hobgoblin in the chest. [We''re doing this for you too, you know! Try to be a little grateful!]


    [Calm these wolves and make them lead us to the Promise.] Xandra demands.


    Will looks at her.


    [Uh... no?]


    [It wasn''t a request!] Xandra roars.


    [Xandra, pyuu, stop.] Lenore grabs her by the shoulder and pulls her aside. [We wouldn''t hurt anybody else.]


    [Are you stupid? We have to get to the Promise, don''t we?]


    Lenore''s ears twitch angrily at being called stupid. [Pyuu~! Who let you decide anyway!?]


    Now they''re yelling and arguing with each other, this isn''t bringing us further at all.


    I sit down next to Will. He''s more quiet now that the attention isn''t on him.


    [Do you know why we''re doing this?] I ask him.


    [Hmpf.] He turns her head away from me.


    What are you, a child?


    Although I guess I''m a child as well.


    [We want to help you you know. The church wants to kill Scratch. As long as he''s here they will keep attacking you. Without him, this war can end.]


    [You want to kill my dad.]


    [We want peace!]


    Now he looks me straight in the eye. [I don''t. I don''t want peace. I want to destroy all of you.]


    The wolves are now barking more loudly.


    This one is so unreasonable! Does he understand that he''s tied up? We could kill him you know, there''d be money in it for us.


    Xandra is done arguing with Lenore, she pushes her aside. [Goblin boy. If you don''t lead us to the Promise we''ll tie you up here and we''ll go on foot.]


    That''s... a really weak threat.


    [...Fine. I''ll do it.] Will suddenly says.


    What made him change his mind exactly?


    We tie him loose and he goes over to pet the wolves. In order to calm them down he whispers into their ears. That''s a neat trick, is it a hobgoblin racial ability?


    -


    Gliding over the muddy trail I hold a knife to Will''s throat.


    [I''ll know it if you try to go another way.] Is the message.


    He''s going slower than we did the last time, maybe to stall. But it suits me better going at a reasonable speed.


    Eventually we come to the place where the cliff is visible and the wall almost is too.


    [Okay, let''s get off now.] I demand.


    [N-now?] Will hesitates.


    [Now.]


    The wolves stop and the four of us get off. We tie the sled and the goblin to a tree again.


    [This is it Rudy. You have to sneak in alone.] Xandra swallows. [We can''t accompany you after this.]


    [Pyuu~] Lenore agrees.


    I hug both of them.


    The wolves are howling really loudly, they better not give us away.


    [Make sure you guard him closely,] I yell over the howling, [and don''t let them alert any of the others.]


    Xandra makes a mock salute.


    Yosh. Then I go.


    -


    I know the entrance of the Promise is likely heavily guarded, so I deviate from the path to find a weak spot in the wall.


    It''s so advanced! There are even watchtowers now.


    I use the spell [Walgis'' Eyes] to detect the field of view of the guards. By sticking close to the wall I can pass underneath their vision.


    Eventually I find an unguarded spot. Most of the height of the wall is made up out of wood, so I can hook into it to climb over.


    Once on top I jump down at the other side and immediately take to the shadows.


    I scan my surroundings. There are so much more of them than last week! That''s goblins for you. No wonder the guild is worried.


    There, in front of the manor, the goblin leader sits all alone, smoking something.


    He is wearing a feathered cap and makes for a great target.


    I let my fingertips stroke the hilt of my poisoned throwing knives.


    But I''ll only get one shot at this, then I will need to flee.


    I better get a bit closer.


    Once again [Walgis'' Eyes] to cross the distance to the manor. I rely on the fact that the goblins expect to see movement in the corner of their eyes, only by being directly in their line of sight could I cause alarm.


    So close!


    Now that I''m pressed against the brick wall of his house I can see the hairs of Scratch''s neck.


    His attention is focused on some wolf. Now is my time to strike.


    I grip my throwing knife and-


    [Wow.] Says a lady''s voice.


    Just as I jump I''m grabbed by the back of my neck.


    [You were right.] Lydia Harkness continues. [I almost didn''t see him.]


    [But you did see him.] Scratch turns around and tips his new hat to me.


    [Because I knew what to look for. Since the dogs alerted us. This boy is equal to a knight in stealth.]


    I''m about to swing my weapon at her, but she grabs my arm as well. [Though not in strength.]


    [I should hope not.] Scratch remarks in an amused tone. [Couldn''t stay away, could you Rudy?]


    I smirk. [I suppose not.]


    His smirk immediately fades. [Lydia. Could you do me a favor tie him up for me to take along?]


    She harrumphs. [We promised them the punishment would be death.]


    [Did we? But we have to establish some sort of exchange for Will.]


    Does he know everything we did in coming here? I ask him [how did you know?]


    He looks at his pitch black wolf, and the wolf looks back. It couldn''t be... the howling from the wolves? It was a message?


    -


    I''m tied up and dragged through the town. Luckily, Lydia Harkness doesn''t come along. It seems like there are more adventurers that have to be fought.


    [We found out were Ada was all morning. She''s been risking her life defending the tree grove. I should do something to save her.] Is what she says.


    They think they''ve taken all my weapons from me, but I have a pocket knife sticking out of my sleeve.


    If I can cut through the rope I could probably take on Scratch by myself. But as I go more and more goblins and hobgoblins gather beside me.


    [Watch the suit,] Scratch tells them before they get too close, [it''s all new and expensive. I''m trying to keep it clean.]


    I suppose they''re curious or something.


    What a minute. At this rate we''ll definitely be killed won''t we? Once Xandra and Lenore hand over their prisoner they''ll just come after us anyway, right? I mean we can''t fight this many of them can we?


    What can I do? I have to stop them from getting to the girls somehow. I have to warn the others to run away.


    We exit the Promise but before we arrive were the others are the hobgoblin girl Ada meets us ahead. [No. Stop it.] She commands.


    [Ada, where the hell have you been?] Scratch demands to know.


    [That''s- I''ve been protecting everyone while you''re protecting the enemy!]


    This is the hobgoblin that''s been killing adventurers everywhere.


    [Listen Ada, go back to your room. We''ll talk later, huh?]


    [I don''t have to do what you tell me. You know everywhere else the strongest goblin is the leader! Thats what the others tell us, they say weak goblins are too cowardly. Why are you the leader huh?]


    [I said we''ll talk later.]


    No, please keep talking. Delay the inevitable, please!


    -


    Instead of going home Ada follows the crowd. From a slightly larger distance to show her displeasure.


    I hear her debating furiously with another hobgoblin, but I can''t make out what they''r saying exactly.


    Eventually we see Xandra and Lenore.


    [Rudy!] [Pyuu!] They call out.


    [Dad. Ada!] Will yells.


    The group stands still. There is a tension in the air.


    [Sorry...] I apologize to my team mates. But I don''t think my voice calls out very far.


    As the goblins ready their weapons Scratch leads me forwards.


    Understanding the situation, Lenore does the same with Will. Xandra follows her side by side.


    However, Ada comes storming forward to embrace Will, only just forced back by the threat of Lenore''s sword. [Will, they captured you!]


    [Yes. But I''m fine.]


    [You''re not fine, you''re captured!]


    [Ahem.] Scratch demands the attention. [Let''s do a clean exchange. I''ll let go of the hitman after you let go of my son.]


    Lenore grips the rope tighter. [You first.] Xandra says.


    Don''t make them angry!


    My pocketknife is slowly going through the rope. Eventually I''ll be free. Just play nice for now.


    How do I tell them that?


    Ada talks trough the negotiations. [Will, why do they have you what are they doing?]


    [Rudy wants to kill Scratch. He says they''ll never stop attacking until Scratch is dead.]


    Oh no.


    I can see Ada becoming angry at those words. Those weren''t threats! Will you''re repeating it wrongly!


    [That''s it, we''re not exchanging anyone.] She draws a sword and dagger from her back.


    As a response Lenore pulls Will back. She and Xandra ready their weapons too.


    [Whoa, hey now.] Scratch protests. [Ada what''re you doing?]


    [I''m taking over as leader. Right guys?] Some of the goblins in back begin cheering. [I''m stronger so I can protect us better.] As if to demonstrate she uses her leg to push her father away from her enemy.


    [Xandra. You don''t have to do this.] I plead. [They''re too strong for us, we can-]


    [Be quiet for now Rudy,] Xandra says.


    The women circle around each other for a second then the rest of the goblin horde catches up to us to overwhelm them.


    We''re definitely going to die.


    I yank myself loose from Scratch''s grip. An axe made of sharped rock is already flying towards my head.


    I move out of the way to dodge it, but my hands still are not free.


    There''s only one thing I can do before I die.


    I turn towards Scratch and begin sprinting.


    I dodge the other goblins in the way and clash into him, driving my pocketknife through the rope into his chest.


    [Argh! Look what you''ve done! My new suit, all ruined with... with blood.]


    He falls back I can''t be sure he''ll die from this, so I stab him again.


    One of these has to hit his heart, right?


    Suddenly something sharp is put over my throat and I''m pulled back.


    My own razor wire is digging into my throat.


    [I''m garroting him, I''m garotting.] I hear Felix say.


    This isn''t how it''s supposed to be used, it''s for traps.


    I can''t breathe, my vision is going dark.


    Where are Xandra and Lenore? I can''t see them. Have the goblin-


    <hr>


    The author stopped typing.


    This wasn''t right. The hero wasn''t supposed to die.


    He went to review his broad outline.


    ''Rudy defeats the orc dungeon, screwing up the events of the game. He is then made a count against his will.''


    It was just one instance of a repeating pattern. Rudy, while wanting a normal life, has greatness pushed upon him. There was nothing particularly special about this event in the grand scheme of things.


    Then why...


    At some point between writing the outline and following the reincarnator''s thoughts the future had been altered.


    Did he accidentally create a new hero before finishing with this one?


    It had to be his imagination.


    Tomorrow he would wake up and the adventurers of Rudy would be there for him undisturbed. Ready to be enjoyed vicariously by hundreds, well, dozens, of readers.


    He went to turn off the television. He kept it on to hear human voices.


    There was some weird news story going on about a man spontaneously catching fire and burning to death.


    "See, that''s why don''t go outside." He muttered to himself.


    <hr>


    Area Boss: Lydia Harkness


    Type: Bandit


    Threat Level: C


    Reward: 30 gold coins


    The goblin infested woods are ruled by a former knight.


    Under her command an army of bandits and goblins has overrun an army fortress. Their headquarters can be found roughly 40 kilometers south from the burned forest.


    There are no opportunities for resting between the border of the infested woods and the bandit camp. Within the ruled area there is a dense proliferation of fortified goblin nests and occasional party of roaming hobgoblins.


    At the central camp adventurers can expect: hobgoblins, bandits, warg wolves, and possible demonic entities.


    The Area Boss, Lydia Harkness, is a dangerous pervert, brood mother to hobgoblins, and possible wielder of forbidden magic. Be vigilant for underhanded tricks, and the depletion of resources and mana through the enemy dense area.


    This boss is suited for parties ranked C and up. The reward is split between members.

 Recap

    "You sold them out?" His right hand looked incredulously at her boss. "Like, to Johnny Law? You sold them out?"


    They were in a secure location, an ally owned with music much to loud for eavesdropping. Yet she felt the need to whisper.


    "Is that so strange? Why did you think we cleaned out that upstate judge? To get the public prosecutor to sign off on us. Agents of the law," he gave a fake salute before downing a shot glass, "nobody behind bars can do anything to us, no plea deals, nothing."


    "We''re informants, collaborators." She put it succinctly. "Rats."


    "Genuine fucking protection from above, hallelujah." He put a cigarette in his mouth.


    "Are you crazy? Who will work with us now? You think the don''s partners will just turn on their heels and let you take his place? The don had a reputation you know, that''s what kept everything together."


    "When did you- got a light?" She lit his cigarette. "When did you turn into a political theorist?"


    "I''d have to be blind not to see it. Everybody''s talking about how you lack the respect."


    "Every dinosaur is. Look," he counted on his fingers, "we''ve got Bumpy on main street, he''s not going anywhere, you know that. Jerome in the projects, what''s he gonna do without our dope? Huh? The clubs, that''s Shive. Sewer city, that''s Slicky Mickey. The money plane, Steeltrap. The labs, Patty McNeil and the Sterling boys. I mean, I could go on..."


    "Yeah, yeah... so everybody uses you for something, that doesn''t mean they respect you."


    "Fuck respect. I mean for christ''s sake woman, you sound like an Italian. The point is, everybody that''s anybody in this town, relies on me. Right now the news of the boss'' arrest is trickling in, all over the nasty little hideouts of this city. And you know what''s gonna happen?"


    Deciding to humor him she leaned in, "what?"


    "The wheels in their heads are gonna start turning," he illustrated it with his fingers besides his head. "They''ll be calculating, pluses, and minuses, eventually coming out, very logically, on the only real horse in the race. Me."


    "They''re all going to do whatever you say... because of wheels in their heads?"


    "Because of self-interest. Rational people will always make the decisions that lead to the most material wealth, when you can see those strings you can exert power. Right now, it''s either get fat under me, or risk your life for the chance to get sucked dry by a zip."


    "Okay, now I''m convinced," she laughed.


    "Hhm?"


    "You''ve been saying it for years, but now I believe it. You don''t believe in anything."


    "I never said that, did I?"


    "Not honor, or love, or respect. Only money. Getting rich." She didn''t seem at all resentful saying it.


    "Getting rich... I would say I believe in cultivating dignity. That is believing in something." He mused.


    "What? What does that even mean? Dignity?"


    "You know what it is, rich people have it, poor people don''t. Dignity is when you can wear nice clothes, eat at good spots. It''s when you don''t have to humiliate yourself doing manual labor in a mine or serving up drinks. I''d rather die than be poor- No offense." He made a half-apology to the waitress serving them shots.


    "Anybody else might tell you god will punish you for thinking like that, but I''ve seen you getting away with it for years, so I''ll just tell you to keep spiting god like you do. It''s workingg out. Cheers!"


    "Cheers!"


    -


    It would be the last time they drank together cordially. Not long after he threw her off a roof and was combusted by a magical spell.


    <hr>


    "Once more my halls are stained by your vile presence."


    The soul shielded his incorporeal eyes from the blinding light of the goddess. "Aw shit, is this heaven?"


    "Hold your tongue," her stately voice chimed behind the searing aura, "do not you forget that you have used the magic of my followers to bind your soul to my domain. It will always return to my power."


    "Listen, lady. I don''t know what your deal with me is-"


    "What is my deal!?" Her voice thundered and crackled through the emptiness of the void. "You return to me no different than you were. A parasite!


    I should think the life of the downtrodden would teach you compassion for the weak, but instead you''ve managed to... wriggle yourself into the same position you had before.


    "That''s... harsh. Listen, ma''am, I think we got off on the wrong foot here. We''re both reasonable people can''t we-"


    "We can not. Once the diseased lifeblood as drained from that meager body your soul will return to me. Then I will show you justice."


    "Well, you might have to wait a while for that. I have few people under me that can do healing magic... Benesant."


    Just saying the name made the painful glare of the light feel less intense. He slowly moved his incorporeal hand out of the way to look at her.


    Her form was that of a human woman. No imperfections or asymmetries marred her face, such so that she had no strongly identifiable traits by which to remember her. Save for the halo of light beaming from around her head.


    "I think that''s what those meddlesome kids once called you by before they, you know, roasted me. And the bandits here keep referencing someone with that name too."


    She looked away. "That was no secret. Rather, " she changed her mind and looked him in the eye again, "tell me how you stretched out that wretched existence for so long."


    He was a bit surprised at that question. "Uhm... you didn''t make it easy for me, did you?"


    "Answer me. You were to die to a stronger goblin tribe within days of your birth."


    "Sheesh. Because of fire alright?" He put his hand on his neck, "It was a desperate situation, somehow I managed to channel my inner boyscout and I got the burny burn going. They were afraid of that, so- no. "He suddenly changed his mind. "Really it was because of First. My fire and spears were just the tools, but it was the eldest son that united the entire family to kill them. I had to be saved actually, I was delirious from... well anyway, that''s the story."


    The goddess stared coldly into the very waters of his eyes. The intensity off her gaze hurt almost as much as the light did. "That is not the story, you were deposited onto a valuable wyrm shard. You should have been wiped out by more powerful factions trying to obtain it."


    He nodded. "We basically were. Barely survived."


    "Evidently you were not. Tell me how the bandits of the forest came to be under your control."


    "Oh so you do know about that."


    "Conversations regarding these things have fallen on the ears of my true believers." She said dismissively.


    "And they... told you?"


    "I would not expect a lowly creature like you to understand the window a deity has in the world," she boomed, "everywhere were my justice goes go I."


    "I understand better than you think," he murmured, remembering his experience with Cyclophan''s limitations.


    -


    "I did not command your silence!" She thundered, her voice exploding through the unmoving air.


    "Yeah yeah, fine," he sighed. "So we''d adopted a couple of lost goblins to work for us. Right? Wasn''t my idea but whatever, it was fine. Except the youngest, Small, went all Columbine on us and tried to wipe us out by setting us against the bandits. That''s how we first met. But it''s also how I lost my brothers Yeller and First."


    "Che, that must have broken your heart."


    He didn''t like how she said that at all, he glanced at her from under his eyebrows, but instead of saying anything about it he continued. "But ultimately, they were people like us. We found common ground and they even took shelter with us when the orcs attacked them."


    "That was when you had to kill your other brother, to silence the demand for retribution." She nodded in recognition, "that is a story with legs."


    "It''s a story with a tail, is what it is." He complained. "Second still despises me for it... Second being another one of my brothers."


    Benesant spoke again. "Never mind all that. You did not just establish peace, you brought the bandits under your control. How?"


    He grimaced, "Really, it was because of you. It was because of the extend of outside threat that Lydia accepted that it was necessary to combine our groups. Lydia is the leader of the bandits by the way."


    "I know." She rubbed her thumb and index finger together, "and who is Clyde Beatty?"


    "Just someone I made up. A fiction for her thieves'' guild to convince them I''m civilized. Me and Lydia, we don''t hold any secrets for each other regarding that."


    "But you have more allies intertwined with the thieves'' guild. Do you not?"


    "I do. Barbara is a banished member, I was able to make use of her knowledge and connections in exchange for letting her have more goblin babies."


    "Becoming a goblin brood mother is not a boon!"


    He smiled shyly, "I know right? I should''ve been a salesman. But to be serious you gave me desperate people, their standards are going to be low you know? They don''t have a lot of options."


    "You have created enclaves all over that cursed forest, each with a bandit woman producing a flow of horrid little monsters. Are you telling me that the privilege of having their bodies exploited this way is supposed to be what keeps them there? It''s not. It''s the military power of your hobgoblins."


    "Felix can''t even keep focus on his shoes while he''s binding them, Ada has no authority, and Jasper is too sweet to force anybody to do anything.


    The clan mothers predate all the others," he shook his head, "nonono. These women are given positions of authority, that''s what attractive. In the society we''ve created the mothers get parental authority. They can have the little monsters wait on them hand on foot if they want to, they''re basically slaves. Lydia showed it off first, we got together and had children."


    He furrowed his brow.


    "Except instead of normal goblins we got hobgoblins? It has to do with her having good genes or something, makes your kids tall. Anyhow, what you asked is how I gained control over the bandits. I guess the answer is I merged our families. With so much intermarriage I''m a godfather to everybody."


    "More lies." She hissed the words trough her immaculate teeth. "You''ve summoned demons, practiced forbidden magic, and forged a bond with an evil god. Tell me the vile darkness you''ve spread over the land."


    A silence hung between them.


    -


    "So you know about Cyclophan then," he sheepishly admitted.


    "You must not have sold your soul, or I would have felt a contest to keeping it here, but I can smell the pathetic thing''s stain on you. You must be his champion, pah! What have you done for each other?"


    The picture became quite a bit clearer. It would be quite hard to establish mutual rapport with a deity of truth and justice after shaking hands with someone that called himself an ''evil god''.


    "So... it''s not what you think. We never crossed any lines."


    "You crossed the line when you killed your first human being. Simply answer the question, what did you do with the wyrm shard?"


    "Yeah... not that''s it your business but Cyc- the shard digs down right?"


    "Yes...?"


    "So we used the tunnel as shelter. After we got rid of the rival tribe I had some stone age tools made and we cut down the surrounding trees for wood. So we were able to furnish an interior. And it laid bare some pockets of ore which- which were actually quite unnatural I mean you''d expect bigger veins further apart wouldn''t you haha-" he became more nervous. "Anyway I was able to make a bloomery from dirt so we made iron spear tips to trade with other tribes."


    "Don''t tell me about the tunnel, tell me about the magic." Benesant had become calmer now, having recognized his increasing discomfort and feeling in control again. "And Cyclophan''s demands."


    "I- will. Cyclophan has some sheng fui demands and I met them. Doors, stairs, animals at the bottom. Once we had a rapport with the bandits I took their side in a political power play and ended up trading some of the tunnel''s precious metals for a bunch of things and a chicken. That chicken is now, like, a demonic chicken. A cockatrice."


    "But you did not stop there."


    "No. Cyclophan, you know he keeps drilling down. We unearthed an air pocket with underground river -somebody got eaten by a crocodile- and we turned it into our animal enclosure. There''s a pen of demonic chickens and two-headed geese there now."


    She frowned "and wolves."


    "Yes... of course you would know about them. Wolves, once the bandits moved in with us they brought in some dogs. They were evolved too, but they didn''t change much. Made friends with... heh- they brought home some more so now we all live together as a big happy family."


    "Out with it wretch! The general muck of evolved beasts fighting over the dirt of your cave is of no concern to me. You have brought forth curses and demons, have you not?"


    He tried to look casual, "that? Oh, pfff. That didn''t amount to anything. He turned some mush in a pot into a healing concoction for us, but the side effects were worse than the cuts, you know? Once Lydia and the others were with us I could try summoning a demon based on her desire, but he''s useless. He''s just a little guy like me. The curses are... well the curse is just the magical power of Velcro. That''s what it is... so-"


    She had begun to approach him, "do you fear me, sinner?"


    "Haha- Not to be rude but, uhm, yes." He leaned away from her.


    "Then you will tell me what dark purpose you lend to the Eston witch."


    "That?" His face relaxed with relief. "Oh that''s nothing with magic. I know she''s a witch but- It''s steel. I told you we had a mine? Well she just came and demanded to use it. Right below the animal pen is a cave you see, had us fill it up with big industrial smelters. She has some beef with the forest opposite us, decking herself in in case it turns into a spat. Perfectly innocent, haha."


    She came to a stop right in front of him. He now realized his adult dimensions as her eyes only reached up to his chin. "The military industry you possess was her doing."


    "... yes?"


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    "The same sharpened steel that slaughtered my chosen people and drove out their justice from your lands." She was leaning in aggressively now.


    He exhaled sharply through his nose. Not a single word he had said this entire conversation had had the intended de-escelatory effect. The goddess had taken every opportunity she got to get madder. "It was a team effort."


    "Indeed it was," she turned away from him in a huff, "the witch created the metal and your spawn wielded it. You created a standing army, complete with hoplites and cavalry, in order to defy the justice of the crown, burn buildings and slaughter innocents."


    "No," he said defiantly, "a standing army would have permanent positions, this was more like civilian reserves."


    "How deep is this cave of steel?" She asked, suddenly softly, "how much monstrous beasts did you bring under the dungeon''s control?"


    "Uhh... it''s more wide than deep. In fact the feng shui is all wrong, Cyclophan can''t gain a grip on the monsters because it isn''t plugged off properly. We had some trolls burst in, luckily we brought our own so-"


    "You brought your own?" Immediately she was back in his face.


    "I talk too much, don''t I? People accuse me of loving my own voice too much, I-"


    "If I find out, wastrel, that you had a human swear off my protection in order to change form into your disgusting species..."


    "Relax okay?" He put his hands on her shoulders, but it gave a painful burning sensation and he pulled them away. "Nobody has sworn off anything. It was a baby, she didn''t have anything like that yet."


    "A babe-" She pulled away in shock.


    Rubbing his painful palms together a mischievous smile crept over his face.


    "Of course, you have to use what nature gives you, don''t you? Nature being you in this case. Didn''t you send that army of human knights our way?


    That''s how we got her. Cyclophan gave me a trick for turning a human into a subhuman like us. And since, you know, it''d be some time before I''d got anybody with strong enough genes to produce a troll in our cave... well." He was done trying to ingratiate himself to her.


    Benesant''s eyes were large and red. "Scarcely did I comprehend, the extend of your depravity..."


    "Come on, it''s not that bad."


    "It is. With your incarnation, I, the goddess of justice, have inflicted great injustice upon the world."


    "If it is any consolation, I did learn my lesson you know."


    "Surely not."


    "Yes! I learned to be grateful to you."


    "Grateful!? Pah! You have done nothing but defy my justice. The impertinence! And to expect you to be humbled."


    "Of course!" A malicious grin crept over his face, building onto her self-blame and regret. "Humbled I am, by your generosity, what else? I could not have done it without you."


    She snarled like an animal. "Nothing that happened was by my design."


    "It was because of you that I was born as a goblin, wasn''t it?"


    "That was no gift."


    He chuckled. "Wasn''t it? Where else could I have achieved a position of authority within a week of being born?"


    She fell silent at that.


    "I don''t think any human would have been quite as impressed by my ability to make fire," he continued, "and anyway I still wouldn''t be able to lift the fire stick at this age."


    "... Your tribe was a banished offshoot of a more powerful group."


    "And we took back supremacy using basic technology."


    "Your forest was under the control of murderous human outlaws."


    "Useful allies with a similar way of thinking."


    "You were born on a valuable dungeon core attracting powerful enemies!"


    "That granted us the magic they lacked. Truly, you''ve thought of everything."


    He finished his spiel with a quasi happy tone, but then he got more serious.


    "Any child knows that power is not derived from absolute but comparative resources, that''s why it''s called leverage."


    -


    There was another silent moment as Benesant looked at him with a stunned expression.


    But then a superior look came over her face. "Then our time together comes at an end."


    "Ah! The healing," He responded, "you can see that happening? So I''m just gonna go down? Wake up?"


    She pointed her nose into the air, but did not respond.


    "Uhm? Do... do anything? Are you doing something? This is kinda awkward."


    "You''re despicable, but you are right. It was I that gave you the tools to succeed in evil. Now that I know the nature of the events as they transpired, I can amend my error and enact proper justice one without this leverage you mentioned."


    "... I really did die then..."


    She reached in to grab his head. For a second it seemed as if he would give himself over to her with a defeated sadness, then he abruptly turned around and sprinted away.


    Away of the featureless white ground he sped, with long paces and never looking backwards.


    She gave no chase, but he kept up his manic running.


    "Haha!" He laughed madly, "like I''d let myself be-"


    "Enough of this charade." The goddess stood in front of him.


    "Ah!" He fell over backwards.


    "Did you have a vision for your continued existence within my throne room?"


    "I suppose I didn''t really think about i-"


    Now she did manage to grab a hold of his skull, her eyes burned intensely into his retinas.


    "I shall no longer leave you to the savages and wild beasts. No, I see now that your corruption is not savagery but tyranny, so I will make you feel the lash of tyranny. I found an ally in the institution of your own making, I can think of no better way to make you feel the weight of your own injustice."


    Her touch and visage burned him like fire. "Stop... stop."


    But she did not. "Do not make demands of me! You have shown a noticeable lack of fear in the eye of my wrath. Know this: I am your enemy. You will endure punishment for your sins... forever."


    As she said the last word he was gone. Made to incarnate once again.


    She straightened her back and put her hands on her hair. In the heat of the moment she had lost her decorum, which she never did.


    Discretely she straightened the folds in her clothing and tidied up her face. It would not be proper receiving her next guest while showing imperfections.


    <hr>


    "Ugh, that''s over with." The woman stood up out of the shallow pit and grabbed a rag to dry the inside of her legs.


    On the ground lay six floundering infants. Of the six one had a particularly composed and wary expression. Bitch!


    They had been birthed in a small cubic room, the walls, floor, and ceiling were all made up of a uniform white plaster with no decorations and a single doorway lead directly outside.


    Their cradle was a slight indent in the bottom of the room that pooled the water of the womb and let it drain away in a small grate.


    "Lackey." The mother addressed someone waiting just outside the room. She pulled aside the dividing curtain of beads and let in a slightly older goblin in rags, he held up the stone-tipped cane he had been carrying for her and she snatched it. "Put these things in the nursery, I want them smashing stone within two days."


    "Their names Mama?"


    She bashed his shoulder blade with the cane, and not softly either. "I''ll come up with something later, get out of my way."


    Then she left their children to fend for themselves.


    -


    Lackey called in some other goblins to help him carry the infants to another room.


    Each wore jute bags to cover up, but not really insulate. They were shivering as outside the temperature was near freezing and occasional patches of watery snow covered the ground.


    The compound was made up out of roughly twenty cubic buildings of white adobe stone. The birthing hut being the smallest and the nursery they were being taken to being the biggest.


    The buildings, along with some empty farming ground and an area of grass-less rock were all surrounded by a mile long dirt wall with thorny bushes on top.


    In a single glance the old soul knew where he had been born into. The high ground tribe to the Promise''s north had been given to Nadia, a bandit from Lydia Harkness'' troupe.


    The area was infertile and empty of wildlife, they exported untreated stone to the others and used the money to import food. Their tribe could never have grown this large just trying to sustain itself from their natural resources.


    The old soul tried to speak but his voice hadn''t come in yet. "G-Gah!"


    Lackey shushed him in a comforting tone and held his body to his in the icy cold. "Shh." The small wooden pendant around his neck pressed painfully against his underdeveloped arm.


    Despite the situation, he remained composed. A goblin again... not very creative. Maybe it''s as low as she can go. I don''t know what the plan was putting me with Nadia, but I''m going back to the Promise as soon as possible.


    It did not occur to him that this could in any way be difficult.


    -


    The nursery, at least, had a more proper door to keep in warmth.


    When Lackey pushed it open with his painful shoulder they entered a toasty atmosphere and murmur of countless conversations.


    So large was the interior that the ceiling had to be held up by a central pillar, which was sculpted to resemble a coiled rope.


    Everywhere the adobe was laid in with wooden shavings and colored pebbles to create swirls of gold and off-white.


    The entire floor was packed with goblins in jute sacks, most of which fully grown. The former patriarch was stunned by the sheer number of them, there it had to be more than a hundred.


    In one corner there were a few nearly ordered rows of straw mats, in another a small team was peeling and crushing raw food for anybody to come by and grab and there was even a spot where two goblins were using a chessboard almost correctly.


    More than a nursery it was a housing for Nadia''s goblins.


    "Put you down on the mat..." Lackey murmured and they put down the infants with the sleeping arrangements.


    Lackey walked up to the food table, flashed his pendant at the goblins behind it, and brought back some nuts and fruit slices.


    "Stay. Eat food."


    Their vocabulary was small and they did not speak much, after providing the children with what they believed covered all their basic needs they simply left.


    The infants had been given jute bags of their own, at their current size they were basically blankets.


    -


    Over the next few hours they were exploring their newfound consciousness, touching things, babbling to each other, and tearing up the straw.


    The old soul patted the cheek of the brother trying to knead his face and pushed him away. Yeah, sorry bud, I''m not doing the learning what family is thing again.


    He left the rest behind and entered into the general crowd. The older goblins seemed to mostly ignore him, so he could observe at his own pace.


    Each goblin in Nadia''s colony had a softwood plate with letters punched out on a wire around their neck. These showed their names.


    The turnover of births and deaths had to be relatively high for nobody to bother learning each other''s names. It''s like a business conference in here.


    Rather opposite to how things were in the Promise, the High Grounds was organized nothing like a family.


    Goblins did not match their schedules to each other, eat or sleep at the same time. Each had their own schedule based around which hours in the day they were called away to work, which was staggered per individual.


    Every so often Lackey, or someone like him, would open the door and call out a name and job.


    The owner of that name would then sullenly trod out to serve Nadia''s will. The way it was scheduled no cohesive cliques could form.


    Following his example the other babies had also started crawling over the floor. They were getting in the way and eventually were all picked up and returned to the mat.


    -


    Huddling in the sleeping corner they watched the numbers inside the building ebb and flow.


    Laborers would leave to work at the quarry, gather food, or guard the gate. Other laborers would come in and collapse onto the mats.


    Once night had fallen just about every living being that had been inside in the morning had been replaced. It was an efficient use of space, it meant that the nursery did not have to be large enough to house the entire population all at once.


    Eventually they let themselves drift off to sleep.


    -


    "Out with you." He couldn''t whistle between his fingers in a dream, but he gave it his best shot.


    Scratch. This is impossible, how are you alive? A tiny adder was revealed between the general illusions of the dream.


    "I''ll tell you the entire story later. Did you choose a new champion yet?"


    The dungeon is much too chaotic right now. I was trying to broker a deal with your daughter, but she keeps changing her demands.


    "You were trying to get her to sign over her soul in exchange, weren''t you." He remarked contemptuously.


    The evil god quickly changed topics. With you back to life our existing contract restarted anyway, so it''s a moot point. You have come back here as soon as possible, nobody is managing my dungeon and the insides are being smashed from all sides.


    "I''m with Nadia, in the North. I need some transportation, a sled or a cart or something."


    You know I don''t have any power in your surface town. And beside that, they wouldn''t be able to send any. Not with the war going on.


    "War? I''m gone for one day and they declare war?"


    One day? It''s been a month and a half! Ada declared herself your successor at first, but she broke with Harkness. Then Barbara and half of her goblins declared themselves independent. Now a number of the colonies are capatalizing on the fractured power of the Promise and are sending fighters here to take it over.


    He buried his face in his hands. "Any more bad news?"


    No, that''s pretty much it... Oh! You were right about curbing attacks on farmsteads. Without you goblins have been freely raiding and as a result the amount of adventurers entering the forest to diminish goblin the population has more than tripled.


    "Wonderful... well, I''m coming home. Protect your core, protect the town, try to survive for as long as possible in the meantime."


    Scratch.


    "Yeah?"


    Are you absolutely sure you can fix this?


    "...Yes."


    -


    As soon as he woke up he touched his face. There had been common features between all his different forms, since he was the same species as last time, he was pretty sure he had to be growing into an identical appearance.


    The astounding growth rate of goblins had made them capable of walking and fine movement over night. Although they were still not nearly has large as adult goblins, their jute bags hung down to their ankles.


    The process had made them fantastically hungry, but the food manager would not let them grab off the table. "Tell your name." He insisted.


    "My name is Scratch. You''re Picker aren''t you. You''ve seen me around before, I''ve visited." He said, reaching out for half a pear.


    "Uhm... no." Picker objected, slapping his hand, "show name. Names on the food list get food."


    "Look, I don''t have your ID-card okay? But you recognize me, I''m your papa Scratch."


    "Scratch has an eye patch."


    "But without the eye patch I''m the same right?"


    "But there''s no eye patch."


    "Listen. Can I talk to the manager? I-"


    He was grabbed by the shoulder. "You come. You get name."


    He had the whole gaggle of little ones in tow.


    "Good." Scratch commented, "let''s get this whole thing sorted out."


    -


    Sorting out is not what happened.


    Outside Nadia was leaning on a lectern, pointing at goblins and croaking orders in a tired voice.


    "Lackey, where were you? The fighters from the River Home are here."


    "Names for... names for them."


    "Names? I don''t care, you''re Ena, you''re Mena, Mona, Mite, Bora, and you''re Bite. There. Now get me forty spear fighters outside the gate, put them on the gate list."


    "Ahem," Scratch, labeled as Mite, tried to make himself heard. "Actually I''m-"


    "Get them their badges and give them to Mitch. Hurry up, we set out tomorrow morning so everything has to be prepared today."


    "If I could just get your attention, hey!"


    But she did not stay around to listen to complaints.


    Mite was dragged along to the workshop. A workbench under a skin tent where, among other things, the name tags were carved out.


    "If you can just write down ''Scratch'' for mine, I''ll-"


    "I write down what mama says." The workshop attendant said harshly.


    He created the tags using 20 distinct metal stamps, each able to punch out a different letter from the softwood when hit with a hammer.


    The quarry was steps away from the central square. Having received their names the young goblins were pushed down the stairs towards its bottom to meet Mitch.


    -


    Mitch was a human. One of the bandits from Lydia''s troupe that must have come along with Nadia to help administer her goblins. They had been send there too early and could barely lift them off the ground.


    Ena, Mena, Mona, Mite, Bora, and Bite were given professionally made (imported) picks. "I''m putting each of you with an older brother," he sighed, not looking up from his list of names, "just copy what he does. Now go on."


    "Actually I am-"


    "Now go on."


    As soon as he turned his back Scratch let the pick fall on the ground and left.


    Without running or hiding he walked up the stairs. Confident that his naturalistic manner would convince those around him that he belonged.


    In truth they were simply too tired to pay him any mind. Their backs and minds were slumped under the weight of continuous hard labor.


    -


    The dirt wall was new since his last visit, but he guessed there would be a gate where the most worn use trail had been before and he was right.


    The wall was interrupted by a space just large enough to let two average carriage pass through side by side, it was guarded by just three goblins with spiked clubs.


    "Stop." One said tonelessly and without body language.


    The meager defense seemed abysmal next to the dimensions of the passage, but the half developed Scratch could still hardly force himself through.


    "I''m just gonna leave." He stated with confidence, hoping the certainty in his voice would help him bluff through.


    "Name?"


    "Name? What name? Why does everybody want-"


    The guard walked up to him and snatched the pendant. "Mite''s not on the list."


    "My name is Scratch. You know? Papa Scratch? Don''t you recognize my face?"


    "Never saw Papa. And that''s not what''s on your name." He held up the pendant as proof. His own said "Skrietsj."


    "Scratch''s not on the list either." One of the other guards said.


    "Yeah, ''s not on the list." Neither of them had any paper with them, so the lists had to be memorized.


    "This is stupid, I''m just going to-" Scratch tried to walk around him but got physically blocked by Skrietsj''s thorny weapon.


    "You''s not on the list." He reiterated.


    Scratch sighed, he put his hands on his hips. "Who decides on this list? Your mama?"


    Skrietsh gave a faint nod.


    "I''ll be right back."


    -


    Nadia stood out high above her child soldiers. At the other side of the colony, away from the gate, was an eare of beaten dirt and weapon storage hut in which she had collected a bunch of unsure combatants.


    The goblins of this colony wielded metal tipped spears, but nowhere near the armor and equipment of those in the Promise.


    "Lackey! Where''s Lackey? Ah, there you are. I''ll be taking these to go fight with Sarah for the Promise. I want you to tell Mi-"


    "Nadia!" Scratch came running up to her, he had to lift up the crude clothing so he wouldn''t trip on it. "Nadia, I want to talk to you. I know it might seem fantastical but-"


    She nudged her head and two soldier smacked him against the ground with the blunt edge of their spears.


    "Ow. Fuck!" He cursed.


    "I know exactly who you are, Scratch." She planted her boot on his chest, pressing all the air out of his lungs. "And the reason I do is the only reason I haven''t killed you."


    "Fuck. You are killing me," he wheezed.


    "Benesant herself send her acolyte to tell me you''d come. When I saw you this morning I knew it was you."


    "Then. Let. Me. Go." He pushed against her heel, but it wouldn''t budge.


    "Not a chance. Your new life is to be a slave in my stone quarry. With you out of the way, we can take the Promise and I will be the new fourth pillar of the thieves'' guild. And Benesant has put it into motion!" She laughed with a high-pitched falsetto tha was painful to the ears. "The goddess of light and goodness wants me to be a crime leader!"


    "She probably just doesn''t care..." Scratch mumbled as he tried to lift us his leg to kick the back of her knee,.


    "What''s that?" She sunk her weight on his ribcage even harder, making him exhale an unnatural squeeling sound. "Lackey, give this one back to


    Mitch." She bended down to whisper into Scratch''s ear. "Nobody will believe you."


    Then she stood up and turned to Lackey fully. "And tell Screech that after the army gets through, nobody goes in and out of the gate. There''s nobody on the list until I get back. No hunters, no defense, nobody."


    Nadia leading the small army, and Lackey holding Scratch by the arm all moved towards generally the same direction. Away from the training area and towards the central square.


    -


    Not at all as one unified whole, but more or less together the child soldiers followed their mother towards the gate.


    Eventually, they came past the lectern where Nadia held her addresses. It was nice and central between all the workshops, and right next to the quarry where Lackey was taking the former patriarch.


    Just as they got there Scratch suddenly pulled himself away from the older goblin and jumped up on the lectern. "You can''t do this to me lady! I''m important you know! I''m *somebody*!"


    Nadia turned around and walked towards him, when the child soldiers tried to follow they bumped in and fell over each other.


    Before saying a word she pulled her foot back and kicked him powerfully in the stomach. He went flying in the air and fell back on the ground moaning.


    "You''re nobody around here. You hear me? You''re nobody! Lackey, tell Mitch to double the lashes."


    Lackey picked him up and dragged him along.


    -


    When he was delivered to Mitch Lackey said nothing about any of it, but corporal punishment was guaranteed.


    "Everybody look here now!" Mitch yelled, "this is what happens to miners that run away. Look closely."


    And while being held down on a large smooth rock, he was repeatedly beaten with a thin wooden stick on his back.


    At first he spat and cursed, but then he began breathing deeply in and out, finding his rest.


    "I don''t want to do it, but I will. So stay with your tasks." Mitch said in a rehearsed way, he had done this countless times.


    Scratch stumbled a bit painful, the deep red gashes under his dirty bag clothing making it hard to fully move.


    Without saying a word he picked up the pick to mimic what the other goblins were doing.


    Mitch stayed around to watch him for a while, but when he finally left Scratch immediately dropped the tool to leave again.


    -


    "I can''t even believe it... fucking bitches, I don''t even..." he mumbled to the inside of his mouth as he arrived at the workshop next to the square.


    Nadia and her army had set out on their warpath by now.


    "Yeah. New name, you say me get named just now," he told the attendant while trying not to touch his painful back.


    "New name?"


    "Yeah, you said you write down whatever Mama say, right? Voila, she said I am Nobody, my name is Nobody."


    "..."


    "Or do you want to defy her? You know how they treat disobedient children here...."


    "Y-yes. No. I''ll do it."


    The word had a lot of letters, and Scratch kept looking whether an angry Mitch or enforcer goblins would come out the quarry to drag him back in for more canings.


    Luckily, it was completed long for such a time. He received a new name tag ''Noboddie'' and went with it directly, although not very spritely, to the gate guards.


    -


    "Who''s on the list?"


    "Nobody''s on the list."


    "Good, ''cause I''m Nobody." Scratch showed the softwood rectangle.


    Skrietsj looked confused for a moment, but he did not put up any further argument, and let the patriarch pass.


    They do make it too easy, don''t they?


    -


    Just as Benesant sat herself back down on her throne, proud of her now more definite punishment for the sinner, he was on his way back to the center of his power.

 Mutual Kindness

    "Hands up fuckboy, your money or your life and all that." Four hand sized sub-machine guns wielded by three overconfident muggers pointed at the crimelord''s face.


    The weapons were extreme overkill for their current use, but on the street those days they commanded more respect.


    The target scoffed. "You walk in here waving guns around and you think you can get away with it? Do you have any idea who you''re dealing with?"


    "You''re a nobody. Nobody''s on your side anymore." One thug boasted, grinning ear to ear.


    "What''re you talking about?"


    "He''s saying you''re a bitch... Bitch."


    From between the firearms he looked disapprovingly at the mugger and almost intimidated him.


    The leader decided to explain. "Bumpy on main street, he''s with the triads now. Our Jerome switched over to selling crack just so we didn''t need to buy from you fam. Shive and Slicky Mickey are going legit and the money plane crashed. Patty McNeil and the Sterling boys turned informant. I mean, I could go on..."


    "Alright alright," he wildly waved his arms, "you''re obviously highly informed. Fine, I''ll buy you off this time"


    Reaching in his back pocket he almost set them off but it was just his wallet. "How much do you need?" He counted money bills in the hundreds.


    One of the boys snatched the whole wallet out of his hands.


    "My cards are in there."


    "Shut up." The leader elbowed his quick fingered comrade, "we''re not here for that. You open up the safe, the one behind the picture of the boat in the back."


    His face lost all expression. "How do you know about that safe?"


    "Bitch, never mind you how we know." The eager flunky spoke up again, "ain''t nobody gonna protect your secrets when you sell kids, when you talk to the feds, ain''t nobody gonna get your back when you disrespect the capos, ain''t-"


    "No more talking, open the safe." The leader licked his lips, showing equal amounts nerves and anticipation.


    There was an unnatural calmness around the kingpin. "Very well, follow me."


    But as soon as they even slightly shifted to follow him to the safe he abruptly threw his head back and grabbed the leader''s arm. Before they had even had time to react he''d twisted the man''s body into a vice grip, making him a living shield between him and the other two and preventing his fingers from squeezing the trigger.


    "Yo, what!" The other robbers pointed their machine guns even more threateningly if possible.


    "I suppose it''s the destiny of every new generation to disappoint the one before it," the crime lord complained, "you too good for regular handguns? You think you''re playing gta?"


    "Yo, let me go and they won- Aaah!" The lead thug cried out in pain as the don strained his elbow to the breaking point.


    "Now since neither of you look like boots to me, it''s my guess you have no idea how to control those Uzis. Especially you Rambo." he nodded at the guy duel wielding, who readjusted his grip while sweating. "In fact, I''''m willing to bet my life on it. So here''s what''s going to happen, in two seconds I''ll break this guy''s arm. He''ll scream, you guys shoot reflexively, having no grip or upper body strength you''ll randomly spray 9 millimeters all over the inside of my beautiful shop, except at my face. Then I kill you. I call the police and the whole thing is written off as a robbery gone wrong, is that acceptable?"


    "That-"


    *Crack* "Ngaaah!"


    As predicted the two flunkies instinctively squeezed their triggers, sending their hands flying like out of control garden hoses.


    The crime lord took the Uzi from the limp arm and delivered two short and pointed bursts into either of their foreheads. They were dead.


    Then he turned the weapon the whimpering third man, to his dismay the hostage had received some of the stray bullets into his torso. "I don''t like seeing them suffer so I''ll do you in quickly, but first tell me where how you know about the safe."


    "F-fuck you." He cried while cussing.


    With a sigh the crime lord lowered himself onto the thug. "But you know what? This is a real wake up call for me. Disrespect the capos, huh? That''s what your friend said." He poked the man in the forehead with the tip of the gun for emphasis, he flinched every time. "When it comes down to it, all that other stuff is just an extension of that. They think they''re Arthurian knights, you know. They all got their little territories, their shared ''code of honor''." When he said that last thing he put on a silly voice to mock the concept. "I should have known I couldn''t enact a new vision with an old guard in place. No no, when a prince conquers a new city, he must strive to make everything new. Those that aid you in your travels, are not those that can help you keep the place once you get there. I''ve got to re-think this whole thing, recruit new people, change the titles and territory borders. You''ve given me a lot to think about, thank you."


    Then he killed him.


    <hr>


    "So we can just pass through?" The duelist put the hand on his weapon suspiciously.


    "My man," the goblin laughed, "if I say we can pass through, we can pass through."


    "Come on Langley, Mite hasn''t steered us wrong yet." The bard punched him in the shoulder.


    Having dismounted the cart and leading their draft horse by hand, the party walked past the tree home.


    Indeed the goblins held their weapons and let them go by peacefully.


    Scratch, who was going incognito under the name Mite, exchanged waves and gestures with one of them.


    "You knew those goblins?" Langley asked, once they had left the range of the archer towers surrounding the place.


    "My brother works at the tree home," Scratch smacked, "administration."


    "I swear to the gods, if you''re leading us into some sort of trap..." Langley suggested threateningly.


    One of his team mates spoke up. "Langley, calm down."


    There were four of them, a duelist, a bard, a mage, and a paladin.


    In battle, they were perfectly in synch. The heavily armored paladin would act as a shield and healer, the bard and mage were able to hide behind him as they picked off the swarms of goblins, while the duelist would rush ahead to face whatever bandits were controlling them.


    Outside of battle, they did nothing but bicker.


    "Yeah, Langley, relax. I just wanted a ride to the Promise."


    Scratch climbed onto the modest wooden cart, it had no roof or cargo space, but it did have a seat for a driver. The horse now being led by the hand,  this elevated seat was free and he perched himself on top of it, tucking his feet under his legs to protect him from the freezing cold. Him being fully grown now, the jute bag was was nothing more than a long shirt and his extremities were painfully numb.


    It was so cold that even a goblin could feel it. The adventurers knew it and had come prepared, wearing thick gambeson and woolen caps.


    "From here on out it''s straight ahead."


    -


    "Something''s wrong..." the mage remarked after a while.


    "What''s the matter?" The paladin quickly scanned the area.


    "An ambush?" Langley grasped at his duelist''s epee.


    "No, not like that just a... a darkness."


    "If your vision''s going dark that''s a sign you should eat more vitamin A," Scratch remarked from his perch.


    His comment went ignored, "this is just like when we entered the kobold dungeon. Even before we arrived, there was this unnatural silence."


    They listened for a moment, "I hear plenty," Langley shrugged. Any possible sounds of the forest were drowned out by distant fighting and marching.


    Scratch came with another clever comment. "If your hearing''s going out-"


    "Shut up."


    "I know exactly what you mean," the paladin continued the conversation, "there''s this feeling of uneasiness. Yeah, a darkness."


    The bard strummed her lyre, "if there''s a dungeon in the Promise, all of this won''t be over when we kill Papa Scratch."


    "Worst comes to worst, we''ll have a repeat gig," Langley clenched his fist, "as far as I''m concerned, this is only good for us."


    "You''re here to kill Scratch?" Scratch tried to sound casual.


    "Papa Scratch, yeah. He''s your king isn''t she?" Langley bellowed, "when we defeat him they''ll have to promote us to rank C. They''ll have no choice."


    "More importantly," the paladin wagged his finger, "we''ll be stopping the raids on the farmlands."


    "Hhm." Scratch leaned back in thought. He hadn''t heard much about the ranking system the adventurers used, but he grasped the achievement model. More accomplishments meant a higher status, and probably better gigs as well.


    "Wait-" Langley held up his hand.


    "More darkness?" Scratch quipped.


    "A cargo sled."


    A large handmade sled was being pulled by the stout donkeys of the hill colony, not fifty paces from them.


    There wasn''t much in it. Some residual firewood and trader goblins that had found a place inside the emptied interior after a successful sale.


    They noticed the adventurers too and cautiously reach for their slings and axes.


    "We''re saving our mana." The mage insisted.


    "I can do it without mana," Langley responded, as he drew his sword.


    "Whoa, hey," Scratch protested, "Papa isn''t gonna be in there, is he?"


    Langley gave him a side glance, then he and the paladin stormed off.


    -


    Not much later they were back and counting their money.


    "Seventeen gold and eight silver, not bad, not bad at all." The bard grinned after counting.


    "But can you split it four ways?" the mage pondered aloud.


    "Four ways? I didn''t see you anywhere in the fight."


    "How dare you? We''ve gotten this far because of me."


    "We''ve gotten this far because of Mite too, want to split it into five?"


    "How generous of you," Scratch remarked dryly, "you''ve been raiding a lot of these traders?"


    "They''re becoming rarer," the bard answered, "that''s why there''s been no real incursions into the area for the past two weeks, not much to grab anymore."


    "We''re not bandit raiders," the paladin said defensively, "it is the right of adventurers to take the spoils of their enemies. To support a lifestyle risking our lives in service of the country."


    "Sure, sure. I''m not accusing you of anything," Scratch rubbed his hands together for warmth, "gotta make a living."


    The paladin didn''t believe him. "We''re not the same. Goblins are monsters, we have to suppress your numbers. When goblins raid our homes and steal our children, that''s not divine duty, that''s malice. We''re fulfilling a duty."


    Now the goblin did get slightly annoyed, "I said I wasn''t accusing you of anything, didn''t I? If you''ve got such a chip on your shoulder about murdering for a living, then stop doing it! Don''t invent some random justification. Those goblins raiding your homes are three month old urchins scrounging for food, they probably think you can''t punish them with anything you aren''t doing to them already. And they''re right!"


    The paladin shut up and the duelist reached for his weapon.


    "I apologize." Scratch eyed the blade, "please don''t kill me." Neither the apology nor the request for mercy were sincere. Rather, he was shaming the man for his threatening body language.


    "I said before that I wouldn''t kill you," Langley let go of his weapon, "but that changes if you become a threat."


    The goblin looked at him mockingly. The idea of the little fodder enemy threatening the group of seasoned adventurers was laughable.


    <hr>


    Scratch had to negotiate peace between the party and settlements on the way more than once. Neither side would typically have anything to gain by starting conflict, yet still a mutually familiar mediator was needed to avoid it.


    Eventually, he adventurers obtained so much trust in Mite''s mediation that they were willing to pause and stock up in the middle of a roadside goblin colony.


    "What are you doing? Who are you traveling with?" One of the brood mothers asked him, just out of earshot of the four man band.


    She was bent over uncomfortably to bring her face level with his. Her entire attitude towards him had become demure and respectful.


    "I picked up these troublemakers all the way back at Nadia''s,"  he whispered, "they''re giving me a ride home. You know how there''s this whole rebel army on the loose, right?"


    "But do you know them? Can you trust them?"


    He eyed them from the side. The bard kept a deliberate distance from all things subhuman, she was the only woman after all, and the paladin made threatening signs to scare goblins away from the cart. "You can''t achieve dangerous things without gambling on dangerous people.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    That''s how our families ended up together, isn''t it? So yes, I trust them."


    "And once you''re at the Promise? What then?"


    "Then we kill them. I mean they''re psychopaths." He took a swig of the water she was offering him. "Do you have anything for me to put on? I''m freezing my dick off. Also, if you have blue grass..."


    "The procession east cleared us out, I have most of my own kids go without shoes as well." Behind her the goblins were huddled together for warmth. "You don''t hold it against us, do you? That we didn''t fight back?"


    He pinched her cheek like she was a child. "You''re wise to stay neutral, it wouldn''t have made me happy either if you threw the kids'' lives away fighting a lost cause."


    He looked over his shoulders and saw the party already leaving. Hurriedly he hobbled after them, in a way betraying the fatherly mien he had exuded moments before.


    -


    Scratch climbed up via the back of the cart and up high on the driver''s seat.


    The paladin nodded at him that he was noticed and permitted.


    They traveled in silence for a few minutes when he began to sing.


    If I could escape -escape-


    And re-create a place that''s my own world -own world.


    And I could be your favorite girl forever, perfectly together


    And tell me boy, now wouldn''t that be sweet?


    The bard joined in with the music of her lyre and he hummed the right instrumental tones or her to mimic.


    When they got to the repeated Wee-Who''s of the pop song Langley began to get annoyed. "What is this song even about, a goblin breeding slave? Cut it out."


    "I''m just distracting myself from the cold." Scratch said.


    With an annoyed grunt the duelist took off his thick winter coat and draped it over his goblin guide.


    "Thanks Lang. You know, I never caught all of your names. Are you all from Eston?"


    "Eston?" the mage asked.


    "That''s the port city," the bard told him, "it''s where the local guild hall is." But she didn''t answer the goblin.


    "And you don''t need to know our names," Langley said sternly, "after today we''ll never meet again."


    Scratch breathed into his hands trying to warm them up. "That''s fine. It''s just kinda awkward telling my friends they can trust you when I can''t say your names."


    "You have friends in every tribe, do you?" The bard asked.


    "We''re all family, in the end." He explained, "all of us descend from the same few hundred goblins that were in this region last year."


    "Yeah, from ''Papa Scratch'', aren''t ya?" The paladin added. "However, we are here specifically to kill him, to return balance to nature. You''ll have to make peace with that."


    "Pfff, balance." Despite himself, Scratch dismissed the words out loud.


    "Yes, balance. These forests are supposed to be a rank F zone, safe for rookies, but now it''s two threat levels higher. If there really is a dungeon..."


    "We put our energy on the area boss," the mage insisted, "we''re not equipped to clear an unexplored dungeon just yet."


    "Of course, I wasn''t suggesting that we-" the paladin stopped himself, aware that he was getting defensive.


    "What''s all this about bosses and dungeons then?" Scratch wondered aloud.


    The bard shrugged. "We''re a rank D party, Lydia Harkness has been identified by the guild as a rank C boss. We''re not actually allowed to take on rank C quests, but if, in our mission, we happen to kill her too, they''ll have no choice but to promote us. The dungeon, if it''s really there, hasn''t been identified at all. We don''t even know its location and size, it could be rank B for all we know."


    "Yeah, I have no conception of what letter stands for what." He pulled the padded jacket tightly around himself like a blanket.


    "Of course you don''t, can you even read?" Langley scoffed.


    "A goblin- or a slime is rank F, because even a child can kill a slime," the bard explained. "But for things like a direwolves and hobgoblins we need trained adults. Adventurers."


    "Rank D."


    The mage laughed.


    "Uh no," she continued, "those would still be rank E. Rank D is... is like an orc. An orc is about the strength of a human knight, which is more than most people can take."


    "Harkness should be as strong as a human knight too," the mage added, "but she has her monster servants, so the quest to defeat her is a rank higher."


    "And with a higher rank comes a higher pay, is that it?"


    "Naturally."


    "Who pays for it?"


    "Hm?"


    "Who pays for these ''quests''?" The goblin leaned in out of genuine curiosity.


    "Uh, normally it''s the people submitting them, like, exterminating this new goblin lord was requested by the local church. But the guild can commission special quests itself too."


    "We all send some money home for our families to pay for suppression quests," the paladin added, "nowadays its costs money just to live peacefully."


    "So instead of everybody protecting their own house, they pay each other to protect each other''s. And the guild takes a nice percentage, is that how it works?" He had never felt he understood this crazy violence filled world as much as he did today.


    "No!" The paladin was appalled, he quickly came up with a reason to fight the diagnosis. "It serves to... distribute the power to the right places. That''s all. The strongest adventurers will end up in to the most dangerous zones."


    But Scratch wasn''t done. "And if a group somehow comes under the impression that they don''t need protection, you need somebody to come over and remind them. Right? Give ''em the old once over?"


    "Intimidate them? Never. The guild is a force for good in the world, they would never allow that."


    "Why not? It''s their income too," he teased, "and they have special quests to commission."


    "You think humans are that corrupt!?" The man responded accusingly.


    "Don''t take it too personally, it''s a compliment really. It should be obvious that humans, just like goblins and orcs and all the rest, will put the well-being of themselves and their close ones above some abstract principles of integrity, or unknown strangers. That''s how it''s supposed to be."


    "So you do hate us," the bard grumbled, "well, we are primal enemies after all."


    He exhaled through his nose. "You''ve got it all reversed, hatred is the opposite of acceptance. It''s the unrealistic expectations you have of the world that drive your frustrations. All you need to do is accept that all people act out of self interest all of the time, and your hatred will melt like snow in the sun. Believe me, I know."


    "Maybe goblins are like that, but not humans." Langley concluded. "We have heroes."


    -


    They rode a few miles farther along the mud path, at increasing frequency they had to scare off or kill small war parties of spear goblins.


    Scratch had made the deliberate decision not to explain the civil war situation to the adventuring party.


    Eventually the trees stopped, an area Scratch knew as forested had been cleared and their range of vision became unobstructed.


    The small goblin parties around them had gotten so dense that they were now in the middle of a very large goblin army. Directly in front of them another wall, much like that of the Promise''s perimeter rose up, the army was attempting to bash open the gates while being fired upon by other goblins from the top.


    "Straight ahead you said?" Langley complained, "how are we gonna get past this?"


    A number of soldiers in their immediate vicinity had orders barked at them and turned around to box them in with shields and spears.


    "Let me think about it, I''ll get back on that...." Scratch quipped while they were driven closer and closer together by the threatening spearheads.


    -


    "So what do we do?" The mage asked, "abandon the cart?"


    Without answering the bard strung her lyre, a soothing chord rocked through their bodies and the goblins surrounding them slumped over.


    And so did Scratch, falling backwards onto the wagon, it was by pure luck that he was cushioned by the borrowed coat, otherwise he could have cracked his skull.


    Where are you now?


    Two miles west, why is there a wall?


    I don''t know. It must be the border of Harkness'' controlled territory.


    Yeah, everywhere up til now has been filled with raiders and marching bands, everybody''s with the insurrectionists. Lydia''s been driven completely into a corner?


    There are simply more rebels than loyalists, all the loyal tribe mothers have moved their families into the deforested stretch around the Promise, but they''re stretched thin just defending it. Half the hobgoblins aren''t on her side either, they''re with me and Ada.


    Ain''t nobody got your back when you disrespect, huh?


    What?


    Never mind. Use your magic, send someone. I''m knocked out right now.


    Mind your tone with me, Scratch. You may not consider me your master, but I am not your servant. You know that I can''t control people, only the beasts of our dungeon.


    So...


    Oh!


    <hr>


    Basking in a sort of effervescent light sat five humanoid figures, perfect and generic in appearance, three male, two female. They were gods.


    Rather that turned to each other they each faced towards a different direction of infinity. Not really acknowledging the others'' existence.


    Yet, one spoke. "Like, why are we even here?"


    The goddess was dressed in a timeless sort of fashion, a form fitting toga that shaped around her body as sensually as possible without showing too much skin.


    She never took her eyes off the small mirror she was using to apply make up to her face.


    "Well gee, Dither, why''d you think?" One of the male gods bit at her. He stood with his legs wide and arms crossed, dressed in several layers of thin fabric and sporting fingerless gloves. "Maybe because we''re all waiting for Benesant?"


    Dither looked away from her reflection for only half a second to show her disapproval at his tone.


    "Listen," a third entered into the conversation, he was dressed in warrior''s clothing, with a weapon resting on his hip. "how about you leave her alone?"


    He held up his hand authoritatively.


    "It''s no use Dronk," a fourth stated, looking up from a large tome and adjusting his glasses, "Dither and Walgis have been at each other''s throat since we were first created, five-thousand-two-hundred-and-thirteen years ago. In that time they have agreed three times and insulted one another twelve-"


    "I don''t want to hear your numbers right now dude." Dronk interrupted him.


    "I was just saying-"


    "I don''t, bro!"


    "U-understood." The glasses wearing god buried his face back into the book.


    "What are you even reading man," Walgis pointed an ungloved finger at him, "aren''t you the god of knowledge? You''re supposed to know everything, aren''t you Vreem?"


    "That''s not... no. Dither is the goddess of love, and she doesn''t love everything either." The bespectacled god stammered.


    "Don''t you two nerdotrons involve me with your stupid conversations," Dither said humorlessly while applying eyeshadow, "I just wanted to know why Benesant wants to talk to me all of a sudden, and why she''s *late*."


    "The goddess of light has made a mistake," the last goddess stated mysteriously, she had her knees pulled up under a hoodie that was several sizes too large, "she has herself transposed a soul from Cradle to this world."


    "Dude, then she''s found out where heroes come from." Dronk drew his weapon. "We should prepare to fight!"


    "Ew, put your thingie away you psycho," Dither cussed at him, "what are you even talking about? You know a god can''t kill another god."


    "She who rules over the nations of the overworld is still ignorant of our true purpose," the hoodied girl spoke, "she was inspired by nothing but herself."


    "Guth," Vreem asked, "how do you know all this?"


    "Because I do know everything." She stuck out her tongue at him.


    "Whoa whoa," Walgis wildly swung his arms around, "Benesant is taking souls from other worlds now? How long has she been doing this?"


    Guth chewed on the inside of her cheek. "That I cannot say, since the five of us are bound to this one world by simple virtue of-"


    Before she finished her sentence the effervescent light was pierced by a blinding one.


    Instantly, all the five gods returned to their positions as if they''d never spoken.


    Then, Benesant appeared.


    "Well met, fellow stewards of the world of Hallow. We have much to discuss."


    "Well met, Benesant, goddess of light!" Dronk was the only one to formally greet her back, standing up straight like a soldier before a superior officer. "The divine forces of war and justice continue to intertwine closely in the realm of Blurich."


    "Dronk, god of War." She did a little curtsy for him, "your power flows through the most dedicated of our order."


    Then she turned to Vreem.


    "Vreem, god of knowledge, I smile upon you as well."


    "Y-You too." He responded.


    "Dither, goddess of love, whose domain intertwines so closely with my own, and Guth, goddess of magic, who holds the line against the encroach of dark sorcery," she greeted the other women, "you too are dear allies of mine."


    "Sure..." Dither did not look up from her mirror, still committed to the paint on her lips.


    "Thanks Benesant." Guth whispered.


    "And you..." she turned to the last god, "Walgis."


    "Whatever."


    Rather than address the hostility between them, she raised her voice for a speech. "I have asked you to be here to discuss a growing problem within Hallow."


    "What about your flunkies? Don''t they want to hear this?" Walgis quipped.


    "The elemental gods have been informed." She answered dryly, "this concerns the presence of a disruptive element in Rhada''s lands."


    "A disruptive hero?" Dronk asked sheepishly.


    This question befuddled Benesant, "that... no. Quite far from a hero, this concerns a reincarnated individual."


    Dronk looked out of place for a bit, "yeah-" But he was cut off when he saw Guth shake her head at him, bidding him to stay silent. "So... uh. Some sort of troublemaker?"


    Benesant had not noticed Guth''s signing. "A troublemaker indeed. Sorrily, I must admit I had a hand in the creation of this problem. The soul hails from Cradle, a world that I have recently established myself in, I had left him within a goblin''s body on Cradle. However, his influence seems to be growing rather more quickly than I had accounted for."


    "Really, a goblin? That''s what you called us in for?" Walgis spat.


    "This one possesses a vile cunning, he has obtained power of a wyrm shard."


    "One wyrm shard? There''s like a hundred wyrm shards." Walgis put his hands under his armpits.


    "One-hundred-and-fourteen."


    "Thanks Vreem."


    "Of which thirty-eight controlled by dark sorcerers and fifty-five housing evil gods."


    "I said thanks, Vreem."


    Benesant put on a fake smile. "I understand that our attention is spread thin battling the evil-"


    "We''re not."


    "I beg your pardon?"


    Walgis smugly licked his lips, "we aren''t sweet cheeks. This whole ''good gods versus evil gods'' thing was something you came up with, not us. Dronk here has more demon worshipers than human."


    Dronk pressed his lips together and avoided eye contact with Benesant, the lack of denial was confirmation.


    "You''re the only goddess of goodness here," Walgis continued, "none of us are farming for your sake. Maybe Rhada and her bunch are fine being your flunkies, but we''re free. We, like, serve no master, man."


    Feeling somewhat attacked, Benesant looked around to find support elsewhere. "Now listen here, never have I asked any amongst you to subordinate yourselves to me. I come humbled, asking for favor. Simply because my conscience can not rest easy being the cause of injustice..."


    As she moved her gaze over those gathered, they hid from her eyes. Vreem buried his face in his book, Guth put her hands in front of hers, but Dither finally looked up from her mirror, having completed her make-up.


    "Like, he''s a skunk and all, but Walgis is right. I spread love, okay? Love is not all selfless and stuff, there''s selfish love. Some of my greatest champions were obsessives."


    The four other divinities all nodded, seemingly very aware of who specifically she was referring to.


    Looking hurt and rejected, Benesant stiffened her body. "Well then, I know who my allies are. As you have chosen to align with evil, I will be expecting you to oppose me."


    Walgis put his hand in his face. "We didn''t say that, we''re just... Dronk, say something."


    "Benesant, there will be just wars, and there will be unjust wars. That is... the nature of war."


    Walgis rolled his yes, "very helpful. Not." But Benesant did seem to consider it. Then she turned to leave.


    "Please wait," Guth suddenly said, "I wish to say something."


    Benesant gave a sigh of relief, "yes?"


    "Hallow is not a playground. In the future, I must ask you to please resist the temptation to use it to reward or punish old souls. It is not an afterlife for you to use."


    Benesant made an angry little "hrm" sound before disappearing.


    "Hallow is not a playground? That''s a good one Guth." Walgis scoffed.


    She pointed her nose in the air. "Do not lambast me for keeping alive the deception we must all bear weight to."


    "It''s ''bear the weight of'', you stupid bimbo. Don''t try talking like some ancient oracle when you''re dressed like a lost child."


    "That- Sod off asshole!" She angrily raised her voice, "by the way what are you even talking about? ''We, like, serve no master, maaaan.'' I mean, talk about a suspiciously specific denial. Jeez!"


    "Should we tell the boss what she did?" Vreem asked. "Benesant I mean."


    "Like, no way." Dither had taken out a handkerchief and was cleaning her own face. "He''ll get angry again. I don''t want to piss that guy off, are you crazy?"


    "Sure, try to ignore your problem again Dither," Guth said mockingly, "maybe this time it''ll go away."


    Dither had grabbed her things and was just starting over. She didn''t consider the other goddess worth a look. "Bitch."


    "Whore."


    "Dude. That''s enough." Dronk yelled out. "Even if she did incarnate someone-"


    "She did." "Yeah man, why would she lie?"


    He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Even if she did, bro, that''s just one guy. It''s in the past now."


    Walgis shrugged. "Whatever I guess. Then we can all go back to our corners and pretend this never happened."


    "Yes," said Dither, "starting with you. Toodles." She waved her fingers through the air.


    "Ugh." He was gone.


    Not long after, so were all the others.


    <hr>


    Goblin Warrens


    Size: Medium


    Threat Level: D


    This area is under the control of Lydia Harkness, bandit knight.


    It is typified by an extreme density of goblin nests. These nests are enhanced by walls, arrow towers, and deadly traps, combining properties of goblin nests and bandit camps.


    Paths through the area are obstructed by goblin gates and watch posts, and all travelers will frequently encounter patrols of more than twenty armed goblins, including hobgoblin commanders. Therefore, the area is considered above the skill level of rank E adventurers.


    Rescue within the warrens is highly discouraged by guild staff. Brood mothers are likely to be servants of the area boss.


    Daily protection and suppression quests to be posted at the farmsteads bordering the territory, marked red on the map.

 Reset

    "Wake up."


    He was shaken awake by a heavily scarred older goblin, likely predating even Drool.


    "Do you mind? I was having an important conversation." Scratch complained.


    The pony had been untied from the cart and most of the essential items taken.


    The crusty subhuman roughly grabbed at the wooden tags he''d gotten from Nadia''s highlands.


    "Wood. ''s one of Mama Nadia," he decided, though he didn''t give any indication of understanding their exact purpose and why having two would be unusual. "Go to your mama."


    The goblins were tearing up the cart as he sat inside, looting not just the non-essential equipment left behind by the adventurers but even the wood and metal of the wagon.


    The adventurers themselves had chosen the high ground to make their stand, an elevated mound in the sandy clearing almost directly behind them, and almost half the goblin army had turned around to encircle them.


    "Go on. Go." The old goblin demanded and pointed the other way. With half the attacking army distracted, the defenders had opened the gate and were pouring out to beat down the remaining siege, Nadia and a few other brood mothers were in the back screaming at their children to hold the line, offering no real tactical guidance.


    Scratch recognized their faces. Nadia was one of them, but there were nearly seven of them. The leader and most assertive among them he recognized as Anna, a relatively new brood mother. Among them she felt the most comfortable commanding other tribe''s goblins. Nadia had said she would be joining a larger troupe from the river home, and Anna had been assigned to there, so Scratch immediately assumed she was the ringleader.


    Assumed to be part of Nadia''s forces he was then given a stone hatched as a weapon and send off towards the clashing army. He was allowed to keep the coat at least, it must have looked like protective padding to them.


    -


    With a certain existential besetment he crossed the distance over the ploughed earth to the fray of goblins fighting over a wooden lattice.


    His naked toes sank into the loose dirt and he had to avoid more and more sharp objects on the ground the closer he came to the fighting, until he was eventually in the middle of it.


    "What is this? An advance or a skirmish? Let me through." Scratch forced himself past the fighters, they were exhausted enough that he could brush by, despite their eagerness to attack.


    There was no tactics or formations to speak off, the bandit women simply send their goblins at each other like blunt weapons.


    "You, Nug," he recognized one of the defenders and grabbed his spear by the pole, "it''s me. Where''s Lydia?"


    Nug hesitated to respond, simply trying to wrestle control of the spear again.


    "Hello? I said it''s me, ''papa Scratch'', right? Let me in, I need to talk to her."


    "Papa is dead, and the knight is at the Promise," Nug insisted as yanked the spear loose and jabbed it toward''s Scratch''s innards once more.


    "And you have two eyes."


    "Two eyes," Scratch dodged the sharp point, "why does everybody only remember the eye-patch? You know what? Fine, I''ll be back."


    He pushed the small stone weapon into some random comrade''s hands. Now duel-wielding, the goblin''s confidence doubled and he valorously charged into Nug''s spear, leaving Scratch room to escape from the fray.


    Crossing the entire field again he returned to the adventurers.


    The humans were viciously cutting down the legions of hapless goblins being send into their swords.


    The duelist and paladin stood in front, while the bard was playing some sort of methodical waltz and the mage muttering an arcane phrase.


    When he approached, Scratch could feel the movements of his body reflexively conform to the three-beat rhythm of the music. He stopped and restarted a few times, but he was trapped in the robotic pattern, all the goblins were. It became immediately obvious to him how the magical effect of the song made their movements more predictable to the melee fighters.


    "Hey, hey, cut that out." he complained when he had finally forced himself out from the crowd and right into the path of the duelist''s sword. The weapon swung to fast for him to even think about dodging, but Langley had the control to stop it inches away from his neck.


    "Mite." The bard spoke up without stopping her song. "You followed us."


    "Of course I did, what did you expect?" He held back the inexperienced goblins behind him so that they wouldn''t rush into their certain doom.


    "You''re at the Promise like you wanted," Langley mumbled, swinging at the empty air between them. "We said we wouldn''t kill you, so now''s your chance to run away."


    "We''re drawing Harkness out with a massacre." The mage explained bluntly, there were already circle of magic swirling around his feet and hands.


    "At the Promise? No we''re not." Scratch talked quickly before they executed whatever it was what they were planning.. "This is an outer perimeter, it''s here to protect some experimental vegetable gardens and wagon parking. It''s still two miles until the cliff shore, Lydia isn''t gonna come running if you raise a stink here. Besides..."


    He gestured vaguely towards everything.


    "...do you think these ones are her favorites? They''re locked out, trying to break in."


    "Okay, get in." He lifted his weapon to let him into the defended area, then forced back the horde behind him.


    "What is your suggestion?" The bard asked without stopping.


    "You see that?" Scratch pointed at the gate, the attackers were making headway again so the defenders hurriedly closed it, locking a portion of their own troops out. "Sooner or later, you''re going to need to go through that. The way I see it, you''ve got a good thousand like-minded individuals, together you''ll break down that gate in no time at all."


    "You can get them to fight for us? I don''t believe it."


    "Not for you, just.... Listen. That woman over there is Nadia." He pointed at one of the adult figures standing out above the warriors. "She desperately wants to get these spear chuckers to the other side of that wall. You go to her, you tell her you''d like to break through as well, she''ll make it happen, alright?"


    "Then we''ll arrive surrounded by a horde of goblin," the mage protested, "once we''re done with the fortress we''ll be out of mana. We can''t trust that you creatures won''t take advantage."


    "An army moves more slowly than a small party," the paladin told him, "we can rush ahead before they pack up their camps, and be gone from the Promise before they even arrive."


    "There you have it," Scratch concluded, "you see? Now come with." He grabbed Langley by the arm and led him into the bustling army.


    The sea of goblins had never been a threat and it was easily parted with the duelist passing through.


    Nadia noticed the man approaching her, but not the face of the goblin between the mass.


    She looked frightened at first, and a pack of her most loyal sons clustered in front of her to protect her. At that point Scratch let go of Langley in order to not get noticed, leaving the man to negotiate with her by himself.


    -


    The communication was strained, and the two parties could be seen shouting at each other for quite a while.


    "What has even gotten into you lot attacking the Promise," Scratch asked a random goblin beside him.


    "Papa is gone," the boy shrugged, "got to listen to Mama. Mama says come use spear, there''s enemy."


    "Not much thought went into it then... hey, do you recognize me?" He pointed at his face, but the goblin shrugged and did not really try.


    Eventually, with much gesturing, the shared objective between the groups was made clear, and the adventurers were given a place in the assault.


    <hr>


    A siege of just goblins could have eventually knocked down the gate with sheer mass, but was repelled by an equal force of opponents been send into it. A siege of adventurers could easily cut through a force of defenders but would be seriously delayed by the gate simply remaining shut.


    With their combined forces, the two parties conquered the gate in four minutes.


    The push began normally, but as the defenders answered by sending in their own goblins suddenly the adventurers were there, piercing through the mass and pushing the gap they''d come from wide open.


    Nadia and her fellow insurgents yelled triumphantly as their forces flowed into the defended territory and disabled the defending camps.


    However, once they had secured the gate they could not immediately move ahead to the capitol. First they had to corral their forces into units again and have a number of them come to carry the necessary materials for the final siege. They had no plan or system for achieving this other than yell out individual commands to their own and each other''s goblins and they were seriously held up. A defending brood mother even managed to escape with some of her sons in the confusion.


    Langley and the other simply braved through, leaving the unorganized mess behind and walking with a brisk pace towards the cliff side, which was visible in the distance.


    Scratch had trouble keeping up with their long paces and exerted himself hobbling after.


    "Hah, hah... shame about the cart." He panted.


    "Be quiet," the bard said, "we''re surrounded."


    The bailey they were crossing consisted of ploughed and cleared earth, layered with a thin crackle of frozen dew and a random scattering of barns and sheds. Not much could disguise the wolves circling the group at a safe distance.


    "They''re staying out of range of my enchanted songs," she whispered, "they''ve encountered bards before."


    Scratch sighed and walked ahead of them. "Are your minds on killing at literally every waking moment?" Upon the path jumped the windwolf, unilaterally referred to as Wendy by the goblin patriarch and elder leader of the Promise''s wolf pack.


    "Dungeon master, your return was heralded by the voice in the darkness," she barked at him.


    "Tell me you have good news." He responded.


    Unable to produce most of the sounds of each other''s language, each spoke in their own.


    "Aiee," she complained, "naught but pain and misery. The man-things have turned against the darkness, and our pack sits precariously between the two. Yet I fear we must choose a side, as tensions reach their boiling point and a battle for control of the shard becomes inevitable."


    "Not if I have anything to say about it, tell me what the surface situation is like right now..."


    -


    All of this was observed critically by he adventurers.


    "What is he doing, talking to the wolf?" Langley asked the others.


    "There is advanced magic from the western continent that allows communication with animals," the mage mused, "though a goblin would not be able to cast it. I suppose the beast is trained to relay simple concepts, one bark for danger, two for food, that sort of thing."


    "I can only suppose these companions are temporary allies," Wendy told Scratch, after they had discussed their current situation and strategy,


    "and you wish to dispose of them once they''ve served their purpose."


    "You know me too well." He scratched behind her ear and then climbed on her back.


    They rode right up to the party and spoke, "Wendy tells me she can bring you straight to Papa Scratch, it''s only a few minutes from here."


    "Really," Langley raised an eyebrow, "and it''s not a trick?"


    "It''s not a trick, but you might be surprised."


    -


    The group as a whole proceeded forward, the wolves weaving in and out of a safe distance from the humans.


    The walls of the promise rose up somewhat lofty from the flat surroundings, their majesty was diminished by comparison to the cliff side they leaned against. More stone had been added to the perimeter since Scratch last saw it, the wooden blockade broken up by the odd buttress.


    There were some shacks and shanties surrounding the base, but they''d been abandoned, leaving the empty potato patch deserted.


    The residents had all retreated inside the walls and closed the gate.


    "Is this really their mighty fortress? What happened to it?" Langley wondered.


    "It was never a mighty forest, just another farmstead," Scratch explained, Wendy stood across from the path, blocking them from walking out from between the shanties and exposing themselves to the guards on the wall. "And anyway, that''s not where we want to be, come along."


    -


    One patch of forest stood untarnished.


    A perfectly circular area of grass and trees, with a sharp border against the ploughed earth.


    They had to go inside, behind the beeches and elms, to discover the mourning tree.


    Months ago the goblins had started tying red ribbons to the large willow when a treasured family member died, and now the mighty tree was bend under the mass of mementos. The slight variation in hue from the differently sourced ribbons gave the plant an autumny palette, and the grass below had been cleared of leaves and detritus, exposing the vibrant green grass. The scene assaulted the eyes with incongruous seasons in the middle of winter.


    Against the base of the tree stood a small shrine, protected by bars of cast iron.


    -


    "What is this? What are you showing us?" Langley complained.


    "Look inside," Scratch said softly.


    Displayed in a case, just behind the protective metal, was a world memory. The playing cards that would manifest to keep record of events and entities from the past.


    "Death of the Patriarch." It stated, showing a hustle and bustle of directionless fighting goblins. Well lit and in the center of the picture the young human prisoner could be seen driving a knife into the chest of the patriarch, well dressed but visible only from the back. At the top of the picture


    Ada, the daughter that had caused the commotion and opportunity for attack was displayed as a second protagonist, still angry and self-righteous at that time.


    A little mount of earth indicated the place he had been buried.


    "It''s... some sort of burial shrine," the mage pondered.


    "This is the event card, where''s the character card?" Langley pointed, "look, there''s a spot where the second card should go."


    "Regardless of where what is," Scratch sighed, "your quarry is dead. It''s over."


    Outside the angry yelling of the attacking goblin horde became audible.


    "Dammit! We can not have wasted that much time looking for a damn grave that they''ve already arrived." The Bard cursed.


    "We haven''t," Scratch explained, "that''s just the sound of the lightly equipped rushing half an hour''s travel ahead of the main force. With no strategy or discipline..."


    "We can still attack the fortress then," the paladin proposed, "take out Harkness and get out of there quickly."


    "Sure you could," the goblin agreed, "if Lydia hasn''t taken refuge into that dungeon."


    "Oh yeah..." he bit his lip in contemplation.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    "There''s a good chance you can keep up your armistice with the rebels too, if you help them take the fort without too much collateral. I mean... after the fight when you''re out of mana."


    They looked at the mage, he slowly shook his head. Not able to contribute without causing widespread destruction.


    "I don''t want to say we came here for nothing..." the bard said began shyly. She hadn''t intended to finish the sentence, but since nobody spoke she was forced to, "...but I think we have to go back."


    Langley stamped his foot. "Harkness is right there, right there over that wall." He pointed at the vegetation obscuring the place.


    "We can not justify an expedition into a dungeon when our original mission was this dead goblin." She pointed at the grave, "and also... we could really die. There''s so many unknowns."


    "Here." Scratch climbed over the shrine to himself to pry out the "Death of the Patriarch" card. "Take it, you can use it as proof or something.


    For your guild people."


    Langley snatched it. "So we just... walk away?"


    "You can circle around via the south, you should arrive at the previous gate after the army there has already moved on."


    "Then... we''ll do that." The duelist thought deep and hard, considering all factors and entities involved in the situation to see the optimal path.


    Suddenly, he looked at Scratch with new eyes. "And one more thing..."


    Scratch went stiff with adrenaline, he bend his knees for a sudden burst of energy doing he-didn''t-know-what if the man had caught onto him.


    "Y-yes?"


    "Give me back my coat."


    "Sure thing... sir." He tried not to sound too relieved.


    "Are you staying here?" He asked him.


    "Yup, don''t worry about me. I got my ride, I am where I wanted to be."


    "...Whatever."


    "By the way, Mite," the bard mused, as they pushed away the winter branches to leave, "what side are you on?"


    "Hhm?"


    "The rebels or the defenders, what side are you on?"


    He answered with another question. "Which one do you like better?"


    "Uhm, the rebels, I guess?"


    "Then that''s my team too."


    She looked at him quizzingly, but didn''t ask further questions. They all left together.


    Having been stripped again, Scratch planted himself on the frosty ground and watched them walk away.


    Behind him the loose earth of the grave became more and more undone, as something wriggled its way up.


    He looked over his shoulder. "Can''t you derive a pattern by now? I have to direct you every step of the way, do I?" He wriggled his fingers as he mentally commanded the familiar buried beneath.


    As this went on the cacophony of the besieging army became fuller, taking up all the space around the town.


    Eventually the leech-like demon wrestled itself free and he held out his arm to have it attach. "There, happy?" It eagerly suckled at the blood from his artery, unlike before it required no special command to keep it from injecting venom in return. "Now let''s see what else''s down there."


    <hr>


    The entrance to the Promise was smaller than the tall wooden gates of the previous wall, and it was never opened to let out attackers. Instead, the defenders were pouring out streams of boiling sludge in front of it.


    The goblins didn''t respond much to the thread of a weapon, but the painful sensation of scalding liquid on their naked soles did repel them.


    On top of the brick gatehouse stood Lydia Harkness, in a wide-legged stance.


    The leader of the insurgents stepped out in front of the goblins to face her. "Harkness, you best surrender now. If we take this city by force neither you nor your children will be spared!" She felt she had to yell to carry her voice across.


    The knight''s voice, by contrast, rang loud and clear by nature. "If."


    The leader of the siege audibly grumbled. "You''re looking at a force of almost two thousand goblins, the forest on this side of the river all belongs to us. You have already lost! Will you give your life holding on, not to power, but a mere symbol of power?"


    "Sara." The defender spoke as coolly as before, "I have housed and protected you for years. When you were helpless. Is this how you repay me?"


    Sara grinded her teeth. "When you run out of water we will bring out the siege ram."


    But she hadn''t answered the question. "Sara-"


    "Because I don''t want to be helpless anymore! Don''t you get that!? We''re taking control of our destiny, right now, by taking that port." She turned to a goblin behind her, "shoot her, or something!"


    He did shoot, but the arc of the crossbow bolt was large enough that the knight could see it coming and avoid it with minimal movement.


    Sara stomped off. "Where is that ram!"


    -


    It seemed like the siege would be somewhat dragged out before the big push could be announced.


    The goblins jumped around the sludge, picked apart the empty buildings, and inspected local curiosities, such as the tree grove.


    When a few of the older goblins taking part in the siege first entered the grove to find their fallen leader''s grave, they almost walked straight into him.


    He smelled of dirt and dried corpse, but wearing his suit and eye-patch it was unmistakably him.


    They clung unto him with emotional wails and he had to bid them to let go.


    In order to knock on the door before the horde was there smashing against it he stepped on the burning liquid with his suit''s fancy dress shoes.


    Since he was on his own, Aimone on the other side did not see any risk putting the gate ajar and addressing him. "What are you- non, impossible."


    With a backwards flip Lydia Harkness jumped down to see him. "How dare you dress up..." the words turned to lumps in her throat and her eyes welled up.


    Then she fell to her knees and embraced him as tightly as she could.


    "Whoa, you''re gonna kill me all over again."


    "Sorry." She let go and he saw she was crying.


    "Hey, are you alright? What''s the matter with you?"


    "Nothing. I''m just-" she sobbed and grabbed on to his vest again.


    Aimone closed the gate behind him. "You were dead, I saw your dead body. As the gods are my witness I saw it."


    "Yeah, well, it''s complicated. Can you get me that spellrod I''m always using? You keep it around, don''t you?"


    -


    Not too much later he was standing on top of the gatehouse, where he was visible to everyone in the attacking army.


    Lydia sat beside him, her demure posture was night and day against the intimidating confidence of moments ago.


    "Second, can you let up with the frying oil? Thank you." He announced into the voice amplifying spellrod.


    Second pulled back the kettle-like construction from the edge of the wall, so it stopped pouring the burning liquid. He looked at Scratch in utter amazement.


    The besieging goblins began to approach, until Scratch held out his hand, bidding them to stop.


    The youngest among them did not immediately react, but seeing their comrades suddenly halt, bumping into them at times, they hesitated in their movement as well.


    All the way in the back, a battering ram made out of a barely processed tree trunk sank to the ground.


    "I want you to know that I''m not mad. But I''m very disappointed in you." His voice boomed.


    In the far distance he could make out Langley''s party turning around and observing the spectacle, his voice was being carried all the way back to even there.


    "What are you pests doing!?" Nadia spat angrily at her sons, who had stopped obeying her orders. "Attack him!" All her authority had dissolved in an instant.


    Scratch continued. "Marching off to the Promise, raiding your own brothers, picking up weapons against poor Lydia, who is so pathologically selfless towards all of us! You should have realized that none of that is in your own self interest, or is it?"


    There was a murmur of goblins wanting to protest against the lecture, some dropped their weapons and covered their faces in shame.


    "But..." he gave them an out, "it has been a confusing few weeks. First I disappear, and then Sara starts telling you you have to fight and take something. Did you even know what you were here for?"


    Some audible ''no!''s erupted from the crowd.


    "So anybody that leaves is pardoned. That includes the leaders. If you go home now, we can forget all of this ever happened, things can go back the way they were before. But if you keep attacking me, and poor Lydia, I can''t keep a blind eye. Those that don''t go home today have declared war against the family. If you do that..." he paused dramatically... "you can no longer be part of our family."


    At hearing this a number of goblins fell to the ground in tears, begging for forgiveness. The ones that hadn''t been touched quiet so deeply were spooked by their comrades strong reactions and heeded the words even more.


    "It''s alright kids, it''s alright. Just go home, I forgive you." He announced. "Oh, with one exception," he pointed at a specific person in the crowd.


    "Nadia, you have some explaining to do, you can come inside."


    <hr>


    "I thought... I lost you." Lydia had not lost sight of Scratch since she had first see him return.


    Currently she had him tightly gripped in a teddy bear hug, pressing her head against his chest. Three of his sons were there too, Jasper, Will, and Constantine, but they didn''t get to greet him properly while she monopolized him.


    "It''s okay, you can put me down. There''s no shame in losing control you know, getting people to respect you is near impossible. I''ve never found the trick to doing it either."


    Gildo glanced over to Sara and Nadia, who had been captured and were being brought in partly by their own troops. "I don''t know, I think you have."


    "Mannagia. This is nothing but temporary," Aimone spat, "we still have no provisions or resources. Your dove tower hasn''t received word from the guild for weeks, and we can''t go down into the port. Soon the knights will return and we''ll be splattered like common monsters."


    "You''re such a downer," Scratch complained, "let me go down and see talk to the kids, okay?"


    "Not without me," Lydia blurted out, "I''m not leaving your side."


    "Uh, sure. Let''s take a few people, but leave someone topside to let in the dogs and stuff."


    "Papa," Jasper asked, "are you going to punish Ada?"


    "Papa." Will added. "Bree ran away, will you get Bree back?"


    "We''ll see about all that. Can you three make sure everything''s in order when we get back up?"


    Jasper straightened his back, and so did his brothers. "Yes."


    "Also, someone get me some blue grass and rolling paper."


    -


    At the back of the promise stood the manor, and at the back of the manor''s atrium was the heavy and ornate door to the underground dungeon.


    Currently, it was barred shut.


    "Why did you close it up?" Scratch puffed on his cigarette, as two of the Grienicians worked together to open it up.


    "We were spooked this morning because the wargwolves burst out and ran amok in the camp," Huckabee explained, "they''ve been acting feral ever since we lost the dungeon to Ada."


    When they opened up the door it sucking the surrounding air, producing the sound of a giant monster belching.


    "A dungeon needs to breathe," Scratch lectured, "the magic is completely cut off when you do that."


    "Okay? Good?"


    The exchanged a few glances, then Scratch went on ahead.


    The initial section had once been a living space. A friendly foyer with carpeting and a bookshelf had been scratched up and tracked with dirt by the wild animals.


    A trapdoor lead to a small tunnel. It was a bit cramped for the adult sized humans, but neatly decorated with interior wooden walls and a tiled floor. Passing through they had functional though oblique doors on either side. It was almost pitch black there and Lydia created a light. "We started having trouble passing through here because of the mimics and grues, but I suppose they''ve calmed down now."


    "It''s all fine, everybody just needs to calm down." Scratch brushed away the elemental darkness hiding at his feet.


    -


    At the very end of the tunnel the homely atmopshere disappeared and a wooden staircase lead down an open space.


    This cave was similarly pitch black, but a few more of the bandits'' magical lights illuminated the room.


    A wooden flooring featuring many rounded indents with bedding and bones, next to an underground river that emerged from the stone wall and flowed underneath the other. A steel grate prevented subterrainean monsters from invading the space.


    Near to the river was a bed of straw, on which green feathered cockatrices roosted, most without the protective blindfolds to stop their gaze from petrifying. On the river itself floated some two-headed geese, and one larger three-headed one.


    The wolves were all gone.


    New for Scratch was the wide open space stretching out at the other side of the river. He stared at it a bit from the top of the staircase, he had seen a bit of it being mined out using spellpaper, but after he''d gone a whole office floor of space had been opened up. Not that it had been used for anything.


    "So... do we go down?" Huckabee was already at the bottom and looking down the elevator shaft.


    A large wooden platform hung from a complex wooden pully system, normally it would carry cargo up and down through a shaft of thin scaffolding. It lead to the floor of a a great dripstone cavern, at least eight stories in height.


    "We don''t have a lot of choice, can you get it up here?"


    Moving the platform disturbed the rest of a number of flying monsters. When they had first explored the great cavern below it had been lousy with dangerous dragonbats, but those had been largely exterminated. Now it seemed many had returned, and some were evolved versions with bright green scales.


    Although visibly agitated, the flying creatures did not attack the group when they descended. They circled around them like a flock of impatient sea gulls.


    -


    The ground of the cavern was uneven. A forest of man-high stalagmites.


    But a wooden walkway provided footing for them to go where they pleased.


    "It''s been a while since we''ve been down here," Gildo stated, "there''s trolls about."


    "And, Scratch?" Aimone asked half ironically, "does your presence calm down trolls as well?"


    "I shouldn''t count on it," he answered dryly, then puffed on his cigarette, receiving information from Cyclophan, "but I understand they stick to their side of the cave. If we go this way towards the port we won''t run into any."


    They walked towards the large stone ovens and smelteries that they had build to appease Lacrima, the witch from Eston.


    "I messed everything up, didn''t I?" Lydia sighed, she was still holding on to the back of Scratch''s vest. "I am their mother. And they hate me. I keep thinking of those kids, huddled together in the dark. They''re trapped between an army of trolls and the sea..."


    Her men exchanged glances, they weren''t used to the bandit leader showing weakness, nevermind airing out her insecurities.


    Scratch reached over his head and patted the back of her hand. "Ada''s headstrong. They don''t hate you, it''s... teenage rebellion. That''s what it is. I''m sure all they''re thinking about is how much they miss you, let''s go meet them and make up. Okay?"


    She sniffed. "Okay."


    <hr>


    The hut around the devil altar was not enough to shelter everyone at once, but someone had to be outside at all times to keep watch, so it worked out.


    Currently two of their younger brothers were refusing to come out and do anything, even when punished with lack of food, so Ada and Felix ended up being lookout most of the time.


    "Here, dried meat," Felix offered his sister.


    She took it without saying much.


    The two of them were wearing comfortable human-made clothing, but they hadn''t bathed or washed in weeks. And they had their weapons within reach, a sharp edged buckler for Felix and a knotted whip for Ada.


    "It''s from the shipyard," he explained, "I''ve been there six times now."


    Still she didn''t speak.


    "I don''t think we can keep them away for much longer. I only have so many trap ideas. And, you know, the witch can fly."


    The monsters of the dungeon had protected them until that point, but they were running out of dragonbats and the humans of the harbor were not keen on giving up conquering the smeltery.


    Ada angrily punched the ground.


    "Maybe..." Felix spoke carefully, "maybe... we should tell mom we''re sorry and ask if we can come back."


    She punched his shoulder. "Sorry? I''m not sorry! She should be sorry! I am in charge, it''s my town! She... stole it." At the end of her tirade she deflated due to lack of energy.


    "Yes. She did, but... I think maybe it doesn''t matter who stole what. I think maybe everybody would be happier if we were all friends again."


    Ada looked at her clenched fist and suddenly smashed it into her forehead. She repeated it a few times before Felix grabbed her arm.


    "Ada, no. Stop!"


    "Why is it like this?" She whined, "I knew everything. I knew how everything was supposed to go, and it didn''t. Why are we stuck in the dark?"


    A high pitched giggling emanated from not too far away.


    The incubus had been tied to a stalagmite with razor wire for a few days now. He didn''t seem particularly worse for wear. "Confusion and regret!


    So typical for the ignorant heirs, yet I still have not had my fill of its flavor. Hehehe. You sure are miserable Ada!"


    "Shut up. Shut. Up!" She felt the ground for anything to throw, but they had long since exhausted the supply of pebbles to throw at the demon.


    "You have many ways to silence me, young mistress." He liked his lips. "You can simply kill me, or you can release me and allow me to give you a taste of true power."


    She stood up, angrily. "We don''t need your gross power. You''re disgusting!"


    "On the contrary, my dear. You have never needed anything more in your life. You wished to command the Promise, but you lacked the strength, then you wished to take hold of the harbor, but you lacked the strength. Now, you wish to become master over the dungeon core, but still you lack the strength to defend it."


    The two hobgoblins were silent.


    Youthere wrestled free his arm. "I wish for nothing more than to help you, mistress. The stolen power of Eriad will grant you the body of an ogre, the most-" his voice was cut off when his own hand gripped his throat shut.


    Underneath stood Scratch, his own arm hanged limb beside his body as he mentally commanded Youthere''s instead.


    Felix jumped up when they saw the party of humans approach, wielding their lights. "Papa! You''re alive!"


    Ada gritted her teeth in great anger. "You''re here to kill us, aren''t you?" She unhooked the whip from her hip, there were tears in her eyes.


    "Because we took away the forge and because we cost you the harbor."


    "No Ada," Scratch sighed, "we''re not here to kill you."


    "Liar!" She smacked her weapon violently on the ground before him, waking up her siblings in the process.


    "Ada, stop." Scratch pleaded.


    But she rushed ahead, swinging wildly with her weapon.


    Aimone was already preparing some sort of ice attack, when Lydia landed behind her daughter and grabbed her arms into a vice grip, forcing her on her knees.


    Bree and the boys simply stared, showing no intent to join in.


    Scratch walked up to his daughter and cleaned her eyes with his hand. "Why do you think we''d want to kill you?"


    "B-because it''s my fault-" she sobbed, "I killed you, it was because of me~"


    "Oh, Ada," he put his hand on her collarbones, "all of this started because you stopped being objective. Don''t you remember your excercises?


    Breathe in... Breathe out..."


    He guided her beathing with his hand.


    "Serenity in, stress out. That''s right, you are not your emotions. I want all these nasty feelings to air out and my daughter to remain."


    As she completed her meditation the redness in her face disappeared and she entered a calmed state.


    "Have you calmed down?"


    "Yes."


    "Now then, let''s all go upstairs and get you washed up. Huckabee, can you talk to Mabel and Lacrima? Tell them it''s all taken care off and we can continue transporting goods normally."


    "Lacrima? Lacrima is here?"


    Scratch nodded, putting the cigarette back in his mouth. "There''s been a development in Eston and she had to flee. We can discuss it later."


    -


    "I know that I can count on my master to release me." Youthere smiled as they were about to leave.


    "I dunno, I think you''re looking good up there. Very artistic, like a christmas tree."


    "Master..."


    "Are you ever going to touch my kids?"


    "...Never."


    Scratch gestured for Huckabee to untie the demon.


    <hr>


    With the usual order restored, the regular way of life could be picked up again with only trace amounts of shame and awkwardness to obstruct it.


    Soon enough smuggler caravans were traveling through the goblin forest again to deliver goods for the dungeon harbor.


    The raiding on the farmsteads had stopped. Although adventurer incursions were still more common than before, they had dropped off.


    And goblins were once again mining and smelting for Lacrima''s endless hunger for steel.


    "You understand," the witch mentioned between sips of tea, "that there can now be no doubt that it is you who controls this dungeon."


    She was visiting the manor at the Promise, having made a permanent home in the harbor. The children were out and she shared the living room with Scratch and Lydia, who still wouldn''t let her lover leave her sight and had placed him on her lap.


    "What makes you say that?"


    "Do not play dumb with me. It is your presence that calmed down the monsters of the dungeon, and your absence that made it unusable. So we finally know where we stand, you are clearly a servant of evil."


    Lydia tighted her grip around his waist.


    "But," the witch put down the cup of tea, "equally clearly, you are a necessary evil for the operations of the guild."


    "A necessary evil," Scratch leaned back, "I like that. It''s probably the thieves'' guild that got my name off the most wanted list of the adventurers, right? Or was it them that kept it up there in the first place?"


    "The adventurers simply made a similar calculation. It is has come to light now that the aggression of the goblin colonies was the result of their


    ''Papa Scratch'' losing power. Their objective has shifted more to ''reducing the numbers''. Of course, the yearly culling is coming up."


    "I have thought of something for that," Scratch dug into his suit pocket. The once fancy clothing now had some patchwork and discoloration on it. Out of the pocket came a green rectangular piece of cotton. "It was made clear to me that half the reason these murders even come here is to loot precious metals. From now on we''re storing the gold with the grues, and the colonies can trade these notes between each other. Each is good for 1 silver."


    "Does that have your face on it? So gauche!"


    "Well, it serves a dual purpose." He flipped his eye-patch up and down, revealing his function eye, "it''s also so the kids know my face. I had some trouble being recognized coming back."


    "You never did reveal how you were able to return from the dead." Lacrima enquired curiously.


    "I didn''t?"


    "You did not." Lydia confirmed.


    "I wish I had a story. The truth is, Benesant simply decided to give me another go, as a favor, you know?"


    "You lie as easily as you breathe," Lacrima scoffed, "as if the goddess of light would take favorably to the likes of you." She stood up, "Enfin, keep your secrets. I have other business than to press you or your dark sorcery."


    She left without much ceremony, and as soon as she was gone Mac dared to come downstairs to show a letter. "That black bird came back with another one," he said.


    "Black bird? You mean that raven?" Scratch asked as Lydia took the curled up paper message.


    "The last one warned us about my father''s fortress." She stated.


    "I haven''t forgotten."


    Just as the last time, the letter was in cursive, and Scratch had trouble reading it, but Lydia read it aloud.


    Dear friend,


    your dungeon has not grown much as of late. That is a pity!


    I am fortunate enough to be able to visit your wonderful part of the country, and I would like to drop by later this week for a visit.


    We can discuss your continued devotion to the ruinous powers,


    R.


    "Do you know what this is about?" She asked him.


    "I... I have not the faintest clue."


    "Because. If you''re not devoted to these ruineous powers. The last sentence sounds almost like a threat."


    Scratch pulled a pained face. Not in the least because he had no idea when the letter had been written and when ''this week'' was.


    <hr>


    Magibat


    Family: Dragon


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 2 silver pieces


    The evolved version of a dragonbat, magibats can be recognized by their fluorescent green scales. This is a species of monster that occurs exclusively in dungeons.


    Magibats possess the ability to cast simple spells, often copying abilities displayed by adventurers exploring their dungeon. Because spellcasting is highly complex, magibats are presumed to have at least human intelligence.


    Magibats will seek to flock together in swarms when possible, but in most dungeons they are sparse enough to be encountered alone. A single level D adventurer should have no trouble disposing of a magibat.


    The scales of magibats can be used to create magic repellant armor, although it is considered an arduous task locating and slaying enough magibats to create a useful item.

 visiting

    "I don''t know who he was, it was just a worshiper of Benesant. Let me out of here." Nadia struggled pathetically against the restraints.


    "Nadia. You received specific instructions from a higher power, I can''t accept the answer that you heard a random rumor. I can''t justify that." Scratch waggled the hot poke at her face like a strict finger.


    He hadn''t hurt her yet with it, but it certainly could take an eye out.


    She closed her eyes and turned her face away from the scary object. They were seated in the now more-or-less official prison cell of the Promise, right next to the gatehouse.


    Sara had been the leader of the rebellion, but she had already been released. After being demoted from her position as brood mother and given a job in the capital. Nadia, on the other hand, had vital information that she wasn''t sharing.


    "Be reasonable Nads. You have glowing piece of metal in your face, I don''t need a name. Give me a time and a place, a general description."


    "Eeh! Fine! Fine! I''ll tell you. It was an adventurer, a paladin! With a blue cloak. She- get that thing out of my face- she came to the warrens specifically to tell me. She mentioned that she would go home via boat."


    "Thank you. Nadia... thank you. You can go home now."


    Leaving the cell he handed one of his sons the poker. "Tell Mac to tell Mabel to tell somebody from the thieves'' guild to keep an eye out for any blue cloaked paladin trying to take the ferry in Eston. And Nadia can go back to the high lands if she wants. She should scale back on birthing though, she looks like she''s doing it faster than her body can recover."


    "Okay... "


    "None of the usual guards are in town right now, are they?"


    "You had Aimone and Audace help build more sewers, and the others are escorting a caravan. But there''s no more adventurers that come here, so it''s fine... right?"


    He patted him on the back, as high as he could reach at least. "Now come, let''s try your mother''s cooking, huh?"


    -


    Instead of sharing in the communal pot of the camp, Lydia had put on a blacksmith''s apron and had taken up cooking for her household.


    "That smells wonderful, goulash?" Scratch walked into the side kitchen and took off his hat.


    "Scratchy. Give me a kiss." She bended over and he stood on his toes for a quick peck on the lips.


    "It''s an experimental dish." She said. "I have neither the knowledge nor the ingredients of the servants that used to make my shepard''s pie. But Quiet has been a big help."


    Quiet stood behind her and Scratch gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder.


    "Can you get the kids to calm down and set the table for dinner?" She asked.


    That surprised him. Of the two of them she had always been the one with the sterner voice and stronger authority.


    The hobgoblins were wildly shouting over each other and spectating as Ada and Will were holding a fistfight on the dinner table.


    "Hey, HEY! Cut that out."


    They sheepishly climbed down.


    "You''re starting fights with each other again?"


    "It was just a game."


    "We were playing a troll game."


    He looked at their bruised faces and sighed. "I guess poor Jasper has to keep fixing you up, huh? One of you better start learning healing magic as well, and games we play outside, not on the dinner table. Now get rid of all this dirt you''re tracking in the house before your mother sees."


    "Probably wouldn''t even say anything..." Ada mumbled.


    "What was that?"


    "Nothing."


    Second was brooding quietly somewhere upstairs and had to be called down. Bree was somewhere out in the town and Will went out to fetch her.


    But eventually, they were all seated around the crooked family table, divvying up a random amount of meat pies.


    Many of them had had burned crusts cut off them, or had burst in the stone oven. But they certainly passed the taste test.


    "None of this is imported from Eston." Lydia mentioned. "We received the ingredients from the girls in the colonies."


    "Hm, goblin mystery meat, huh?"


    She laughed, "It''s mule and venison."


    "Well it''s lovely. I was just saying to Trevor, I think everything''s about back to normal now. The girls are doing their part again, we''ve got the trolls to back off, and the goods are being shipped again."


    "Aren''t there still rebel goblins though?" Jasper wondered aloud.


    "Eat your mule and venison boy."


    "And Lacrima moved in on the lower levels, so we can''t do whatever we want there anymore. She keeps an eye on us." Constantine added with his mouth full.


    Scratch sighed, "close enough to normal anyway. Why did you all start fighting each other in the first place?"


    "It wasn''t on purpose!" Ada protested.


    Constantine was quick to point fingers. "Ada wanted to raid humans and mom said no. Then Sara started saying we weren''t, uhm... ''in control'' anymore."


    She threw a fork at him.


    "Sara was right," Scratch pointed out. "Ada, you wanted to be the boss, but you never really thought about what keeps a boss in charge."


    She avoided looking in his eyes. "...can I have my fork back?"


    "Can you tell me what''s necessary for being the boss?" Scratch asked.


    "Everybody has to do what you say." Felix suggested.


    "Must be the strongest." Bree smacked.


    Lydia gave a knowing smile. "Power is protected by underlings."


    He snapped his fingers. "Exactly, you should listen to your mother more often."


    Ada looked at him with a frown. "But what does that mean?"


    "You may think of me as a big boss. But I can''t get all the goblins in all the tribes to do whatever I want all the time. The mothers control the colonies."


    She crossed her arms. "Yeah, but the mothers disobeyed me. Then there''s nothing I could do, right?"


    "Wrong. The mothers are people, like you and I. All people at all times do all things out of self interest, I taught you that many times over. If they rebel, it''s because they get more out of betrayal than out of loyalty."


    "Don''t you remember, Ada?" Lydia added, "you made Sara our enemy because you turned her territory into a fighting ground. With the raids."


    "Sara was a big player, a lot of the other women deferred to her." Scratch explained. "Part of being in control is bribing and satisfying those key underlings in order to keep them supporting your position. Did you ever think about who you had to keep on your side, Ada?"


    "No." She covered up her face. "I just wanted to be the boss."


    "What goes for the forest also goes for right here and down below." Scratch added. "Your dear mother controls the bandits for us, and Barbara is our guild liaison. I do my best to keep them both very happy, don''t I baby?"


    "Hmm... you could do a little more." She quipped.


    "Ha! But you do know why I''m explaining this, don''t you Ada?"


    "Why?" she asked weakly.


    "Because I want you to do a better job next time."


    "Next time?"


    "Next time."


    "Right." That perked her up.


    "I don''t want you to die again, Scratch." Lydia said. "How were you able to come back anyhow?"


    "You know Benesant?"


    "..."


    "She has this fixation on keeping me here as some sort of punishment. She got Nadia to help her out this time, and I had to wriggle myself all sorts of ways trying to get out. I thought we could come to some sort of mutual understanding at first, told her way too much too, but no-"


    "Benesant, the goddess."


    "That''s the bitch. Might have to have her killed soon."


    "...okay..." She looked down on her food again.


    After that the conversation changed topics to the game of playing troll, the game where the kids would punch each other over and over to establish who was the boss.


    <hr>


    A few hours later the parents were alone together in the master bedroom.


    Scratch was laying on top of Lydia''s chest.


    "What happened to the hard-ass?" He asked. "I didn''t expect you to to turn into a housewife."


    "Is that bad?"


    "Is that bad? Is that bad. I wouldn''t know, I mean it''s your identity. Are you happy?"


    She exhaled deeply. "I lost confidence. When you were gone. I felt like... a child. I suppose I feel more secure knowing you''re in charge."


    "Look at this," he suddenly said "I nicked it from the grave next to the picture of Ada screwing up."


    In his hand was a whisk card of himself without a suit but with a toga, eye-patch, and some teeth missing. The depiction showed him standing on some unseen dais with multiplied clothed goblins reaching out and touching him like a saint. The title said ''Scratch, goblin patriarch.''


    "Your world memory." She noted, "from when you died."


    "Yes. I have another one. When you moved in and started bossing us around," he explained, "it said ''goblin boss'' on that one. I had it explained to me that it appeared because it was no longer true. I wasn''t ''the boss'' anymore."


    "Oh, Scratch." She hugged him tighter.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "But, like, a patriarch is an upgrade from a boss, isn''t it?" He mused. "So I was all insecure over nothing."


    She touched the picture. "When you first lost your teeth... you seemed so innocent to me. That look. It was like you were only just growing your adult set. That was when I could see us sharing a bed."


    "Innocent? You''re a little freak aren''t you? Well, having all my teeth I can do this!"


    "Haha, oh no, stop!"


    Their foreplay was interrupted by a sudden lightning strike and a loud hissing noise coming from outside.


    "What in the hell?" Scratch went to the window. "It was such a clear night a moment a-"


    Not a single star was visible in the sky, swirling clouds of inky blackness spiraled down from the heavens and right into the stone in front of the Promise entrance.


    As it flowed on to the ground it spread out over the streets, lingering as half a foot of ominous black smoke.


    Where it had come down now stood a tremendously tall figure, almost eight feet in height. Stunningly, it the skull of an ox instead of a head.


    The body underneath was broad shouldered and draped in cloth, as black as the smog. It began to glide through the blackness towards the manor, the blackness of its cloak blending in seamlessly with the black carpet of smoke.


    "Is that... death? Is that the actual grim reaper coming to our house?" Scratch shouted at least as indignant as he was disturbed.


    "Evacuate the children." Lydia commanded. "I''ll confront it."


    "No-"


    But before he could protest she was gone.


    -


    Knocking and talking to wake up each resident would be too slow, so Scratch hurried downstairs and began to bang to pots together.


    "Everybody get up!"


    "Is it a fight? Are we fighting?" Not wearing much but valiantly brandishing her whip and throwing knives.


    "No. We made a formal threat assessment and our official verdict is that this thing is damn scary, so we''re not fighting it. Second," Scratch pointed at his brother, "you''re in charge. Get these kids safely downstairs to Barbara and the witch."


    Jasper sputtered. "But the witch is-"


    "Lacrima talks big, but she never bites. Maybe she''s not safe, but she''s a known quantity. Especially compared to this."


    "Ho there, what about you?" Ada interjected. "Are you staying here?"


    "Your mother has already gone out to fight it, I have to stand by her. Maybe it can be reasoned with."


    "If you''re here we''re not running away either!" Felix came stumbling out a storage closet carrying more random assorted weapons than he could fit in his arms.


    "We''re doing this to save-" the father stopped himself when he saw the determination in their faces. "Fine, you three can stay." He pointed at Ada, Felix, and Jasper, "but Second, you get the younger kids the hell out of here."


    Rushing onto the central square, they could see Lydia having taken a high vantage point on one of the manor''s wings, and the intruder having come to a stop just in front of them.


    Their visage of the creature was framed by the two wings of the U-shaped building on either side. It loomed imposingly over the square, not speaking a word. From up close, a golden ring piercing its left horn was visible.


    It was deathly quiet. There were no stars and no wind, no proof of a wider world outside their tiny pocket of space.


    The sound of the hobgoblins readying their weapons broke the silence for a short moment. Ada stretched a leather whip, Felix wielded a halberd with two pronged tip, and Jasper had extended claws attached to his wrists, they kept his palms free for healing magic.


    From underneath the pitch black cloak of the creature came a large skeletal hand. Stark white finger bones scraped sickeningly over one another as four digits folded in and one extended outwards towards the patriarch. It was pointing at him.


    A distant voice emanated from the throat of the cow skull. "You..." Scratch flinched, but no powerful magic or killing curse appeared, "...must be the new dungeon master! What a pleasure to meet you, are these your minions?"


    "I... what?"


    "How conceited of me, I do rely on my reputation too much. I am Ritter, we corresponded via the mail did we not? Let us discuss matters in your throne room."


    "Throne room?" Scratch echoed without being able to produce a coherent contribution.


    The creature''s finger bones curled and uncurled. "Unless you think of me not as a guest, but as an invader."


    "Not at all!" A boy''s voice rang from one of the second floor windows. It was Youthere. "My master is shy, let me be the first to formally great the Champion of Death! Lord of the Tower! The Ravenous Lich!"


    Lydia had a visible reaction to hearing that title, the colour drained from her face and she dropped her weapon.


    Although the bleached cow skull did not have any facial muscle with which to show emotion, it managed to be remarkably expressive opening and closing the jaws and intensifying the flames in the eye sockets. It took a deep bow.


    <hr>


    Instead of a throne room, the lich was led to the dining table. Scratch and Lydia shared a chair at one end and bade the guest to sit at the other. This way they had a long piece of furniture between them.


    The kids were gather behind them, and Youthere was standing next to Scratch. "The Ravenous Lich is the Champion of an evil god. He and you will have a mutual understanding." He whispered.


    "The whole world fears the Ravenous Lich," she whispered back, "he has killed millions for sport and to fuel his undead legions."


    "My reputation proceeds me." The monster said with a deep echo-y sigh. He had heard their whispers. "To the adventuring peoples, the likes of you and me are either fodder to be trampled or fearsome gods. Many have died in my dungeon, but I have not invited them there. I''m sure you understand."


    "Then you''re a dungeon master too," Scratch deduced.


    "Of course! Not just of one. Me and a number of my colleagues refer to ourselves as dungeon lords." He turned his palms towards them in a gesture of insincere humility, "not to brag, but only six individuals worldwide have proved themselves worthy of that title."


    "Many dungeons..." the goblin furrowed his brow in thought, "do you know anybody by the name of ''Yanis''?"


    "Oh, you know him!" Ritter exclaimed happily. "That should simplify things. Yes, Yanis is a friend of mine. We have different origins of course- as you can see I am of the monster race, a minotaur, and he is from among the civilized peoples- but we are both what is known as dark sorcerers." He flicked the ring on his left horn. "We make our own magic!"


    He got no strong reaction from that revelation, so he continued.


    "Not too long ago one of Yanis'' former students had made an expedition to this dungeon in order to claim it for himself. I must admit... I had a hand in this."


    "Who is this person?" Scratch stopped the story to get to the relevant details.


    "You don''t remember him? He came to enchant the shard and claim it for himself. Well, must have not seemed too different from an adventurer on a raid."


    "No no. I know who you''re talking about now." Scratch responded, "bandaged face, used a fake name." He had lost his brother Dumb that day.


    "Exactly. As I understand, you did not end up losing anything of value. But you were threatened. This student, Albin, he did not find you by random chance. It was a map, stolen from my library, that led him to you. So I bear responsibility for the attack."


    Scratch was glad Second wasn''t there to hear it. He had a lot of bitterness in his heart about seeing his brothers die by human hands. "So you''ve come to apologize."


    "More than that." The lich put his hand where his heart should be. "I have come to make amends. I understand that you have used Yanis'' name to scare off would-be usurpers, that will no longer be necessary."


    "Did he make a formal complaint?"


    "Oh no," the lich shook his head, "I wanted to say you can call upon my name instead. And with more credibility. I am here only to help, after all."


    "That''s a relief," Scratch responded diplomatically, "but you sure picked an ominous hour to suddenly appear."


    The lich cocked his head. "Did I? I should be terribly sorry, I do often lose track of day and night. I do not rely on sight, you see. As you are sitting there I can see only the ever diminishing life force of your mortal bodies."


    The patriarch shifted uncomfortably. Everything Ritter said was laden with a threatening atmosphere.


    "The smoke isn''t... harmful, is it?" Lydia asked.


    "Not to you." Ritter stated. "Having lived- not lived... existed for many decades now, I have picked up certain habit for sniffing out spies and assassins. My black mist has invaded the nooks and crannies of your little surface town. The cabinets, the cabinets, the cracks, the little... mouse holes- anyway, as usual my paranoia was vindicated. I have retrieved..."


    He reached a skeletal hand inside his deep black coat, and pulled out a little tube. It had copper ends and flat glass planes making up its sides, like a hexagonal prism.


    "...a little intruder."


    He placed the object on the table. There was something alive inside.


    "What''s that?" The children walked around the table trying to get a closer look.


    "Wait don''t-" Lydia wanted to stop them, but they were already practically next to the visitor.


    "There''s a little woman inside!" Ada exclaimed.


    "A pixie. Send here by a fairy queen as advanced scout," Ritter explained. "You have made quite the enemy."


    Inside was a slender humanoid figure, no more than six inches tall. She was faintly angelic in her white dress and fair skin and sporting transparent insect wings on her back. She had been unconscious, but was starting to come to. As she became aware of her surroundings she began to bash her tiny fists against the glass in panic.


    The lich pointed at the tube and it began to fill up with black smoke again. The little woman began to choke and then fainted again.


    "Woooow!" The hobgoblins were amazed by the sight as if it were a circus spectacle.


    "Cute kids." The lich put his large skeletal hand on Jasper''s head. "I could just eat them up."


    Jasper recoiled in shock.


    "Scratch, Lydia," the lich continued, "do you know why the fairy queen is making preparations to attack you?"


    Scratch remembered the witch''s admission of repeated invasions into the fairy forest. The same witch he was now harboring. "I have some id-"


    "That was a rhetorical question. I shall tell you why." Ritter pointed up, "the smokestacks."


    "... You mean the chimneys?"


    "Yes I do mean the chimneys. Humans are very selective about where they build their industry, many cities have the ability to construct large scale smelters and refineries without the need for epic level magic. But they do not do so. And why not?"


    Lydia suddenly understood. "Pollution-"


    "Again, rhetorical. Because of the smoke. The marring of the air and water makes enemies out of the fey."


    "Lydia, you know about this?" Scratch asked in a serious tone.


    "I- no. I..."


    "A knight would not be educated in this matter," Ritter explained, "the high nobility are the ones that occupy themselves with infrastructure, and the witches with magical affairs. But whomever put you up to this must have known what they were doing. Whatever they''re paying you, its not enough. You''re spending not only energy and resources, you''re drawing the ire of a mighty force."


    Scratch massaged his temples. "So this steel business isn''t only against the laws of man, it''s against the laws of nature. That''s just great."


    "Steel?" The lich wondered.


    "If we stop now," Lydia asked, "can we avoid being attacked by fey?"


    "In all of history," Ritter answered, "a fairy queen has never made peace with a polluter. Polluting cities have had to evacuate or eradicate the queen. But that''s why I am here. If you would follow me outside."


    The dungeon lord stood up, and his horns scraped the ceiling.


    "Can we keep the bug lady?" Ada asked.


    "Sure you can little miss." He touched the tip of her nose with his bone finger. "Come along," he urged the parents, "I shall present you with an army."


    <hr>


    "I want another apple." Piers stated in an austere tone of voice.


    Currently, getting another apple seemed like the most important matter in the whole world.


    Lacrima pinched the bridge of her nose. "I am not in the business of feeding produce to subhumans, you have overstayed your welcome well enough. Now kindly leave?"


    "Papa said we had to stay here for now," Piers idly mentioned while rummaging through a cabinet.


    "I don''t care what Scratch sa- Stay out of there!"


    The houses on the underground shore were exceedingly simplistic. Everything was build out of the same random assortment of deciduous wood that made up the boardwalk below. Each had the same layout of a single story story room,  with no interior walls and a decorative roof out of thin rods, that let in most of the light. (There was no rain to protect from.) It being goblin-made the handiwork was systematically skewed and amateurish.


    But Lacrima had personalized hers. An intricate red and gold carpet colored the floor, a large bookcase decorated the back wall, and a desk filled with papers and objects obscured her sleeping mattress from those entering the doorway. The whole space was littered with opened and unopened crates and and belongings that hadn''t been given a place yet.


    The younger hobgoblins had made themselves at home, lounging on the carpet and rummaging through the paraphernalia. Much to the chagrin of the witch.


    She took the door of the cabinet and slammed it shut, almost crushing Piers'' fingers.


    "Hey!" He brought his face close to hers, "what''s the big idea?"


    "Do not touch anything," she demanded, "I am attempting to communicate with my apprentice. I''ve had to flee to this place out of necessity, and I don''t intend to-"


    "What''s that?" Piers interrupted her to point at a display shelf full of small glass sheets. Each had a red dot in the middle.


    "That is not of your concern... A secret weapon I have dug up, created for precisely this situation."


    "A secret weapon, wow!" Trevor perked up. "For defeating the smoke monster!?"


    "Not for that! The situation where my dealings are exposed and I have had to flee the city. Over the years I''ve employed every adventurer of renown in Reddington, more often than not they shed their blood on the feybloom before delivering it. These are those samples."


    "That''s not a weapon," Constantine laughed, "a weapon is sharp. Or sometimes heavy. Or sometimes a rope."


    "Watch your tone with me boy," she grabbed him painfully by the ear. "I am a wielder of magic, aren''t I? So I have a magic purpose for this blood."


    "Ow, owie.. ah ah ah!" Constantine couldn''t listen properly, as he was too focused on the pain in his ear lobe.


    "What is spawned off the body maintains an invisible connection," she explained through his painful interjections. "Through such a link I can learn of the location of a target, or bewitch their body and mind. So do not speak ignorance in my presence."


    "Is bewitching a body when you turn someone into an animal?" Trevor asked. "If I give you my blood, can you turn me into a troll?"


    "I do not need your blood to bewitch you," she sniffed, "all of you are godless creatures. You have no defense against my magic."


    "Oh oooh!" Will raised his hands, "I want to be a magibat!"


    "You can not turn into a creature more powerful than yourself!" Lacrima fumed. "Every child knows this! That is why-" She sat down, suddenly acting her age in showing frailty. "Why I do what I do..." She rested her head in her hands.


    It seemed like she was about to cry, and the hobgoblins looked at each other awkwardly.


    Second provided an escape, when he appeared in the doorway. "Bree has met with the trolls, they don''t want to help us. They want her to come with them."


    "Come with them where?" Trevor asked.


    "Further down."


    <hr>


    Area Boss: The Ravenous Lich


    Type: Undead


    Threat Level: A


    Reward: The castle of Kietriev and associated lands


    The undead wastes have been ruled by the Ravenous Lich for centuries. He has earned his nickname by voraciously sucking up the life force of all living things within.


    The wastes can be found past the valley north of castle Kietriev, and span 120 kilometers in radius, with no recognizable landmarks, save for the lich''s tower.


    While within the wastes, living creatures will be exposed to an aura of death that imposes a constant drain on their health. Hourly healing magic is required in order to avoid permanent damage.


    The reanimated skeletons of failed adventurers guard this desert, and will relentlessly attack the living. Discuss with the local guild house whether their numbers have been recently thinned.


    In the exact center of the wastes stands the lich tower. The structure is fifteen stories tall and houses various high level defenders, including a vampire count.


    The lich is a necromancer of unparalleled magical power, adventurers attempting this attack should be familiar with dark magic practitioners and the use of magic itself. There will be no opportunity to abandon the attack once the tower is reached.


    Warning: due to the worldwide infamy of this boss, low level parties are known to invade the area and attempt a mission they are unqualified to complete. Attempting this is grounds for expulsion from the guild. Do not challenge the lich before attaining rank A, it is not worth it.

 Plunge the Depths

    The black smoke was gone now, and it was visible how the cobblestone and pavement bricks of the main road was being overturned.


    The soil itself was imbued with the stuff of life, writhing and churning like a bed of maggots.


    From between the muddy earth clawed and burrowed a collection of stained brown bones, seemingly black in the dark of night.


    Out of the disorderly mess the deathly faces of skulls appeared. Humanoid skeletons, animated by some eerie magic, were rooting themselves out of the mud.


    All the public space within the walls became filled with a dense bustle of ghastly undead. They jittered and twitched lively like living beings.


    The human and goblin workers in the town had caught notice of the monstrous formation, they had climbed up on top of their houses and wielded kitchen ware for weapons, "Miss Harkness!" one of them shouted over the packed street.


    "Stay there!" she commanded back, "do not interfere!"


    "This might be a bit more than we''re used to... Ritter," Scratch said as diplomatically as he could, "I think that-"


    "Your people are right to be afraid," the lich boasted, "the elemental undead are quite hostile to all forms of life. Their very existence is death, the very same force animates their movements and guides their direction." He held up a lecturing finger in front of Scratch. "Do you recognize their strength? No mind need to be created, and no muscles need to be flex in order to for these creations to fulfill the purpose of a soldier.


    Elemental death simply flows towards the extinguishing of life, like water does downhill or a magnet to its pole. This is my gift to you, death given form, to rain upon your enemy!"


    He sounded quite bombastic and theatrical while saying so, and Youthere began to jump up and down excitedly, clapping his hands.


    "Wonderful! Wonderful! A true engine of despair."


    "Your gift to me?" Scratch asked, "to me?"


    The lich''s bony bull head nodded up and down.


    "Then why are they in the middle of my town Ritter? If they''re such mindless killers, Ritter, why did you put them where the people live, Ritter!?"


    "Ah, yes. Let me assuage your concerns." The lich raised his hand into the sky, for a fraction of a second it seemed like a mesh of golden wires flashed in the night''s darkness, from his palm to the animated skeletons. As a response to this gesture the creatures stopped jittering and became still like statues. "During my many years studying dark sorcery, I have stolen and created a great diversity of spells," he mused as he flicked his wrist. A sudden percussive sound burst from the horde, as they all moved abruptly and at the exact same time. Hundreds of skeletons lined up with even space between each other like soldiers, facing the manor. "But my principle discipline has always been- as you might expect from a lich, the manipulation of elemental death." He brought the hand down and all the skeletons kneeled.


    "I never imagined.... this many bodies. Underneath our camp..." Harkness gasped a little.


    "My lady," Ritter protested, "these are *elemental* undead. The structure of an existing skeleton to coat around allows the element to animate more quickly, but in large enough concentrations the skeletal forms shape themselves. It is the element''s most natural expression after all."


    Youthere chuckled, "then you have come to destroy us. You would infuse this land and all standing here with the poisonous energy of death itself."


    "Did I not stress that my mist is not harmful?" The lich''s echo-y voice sounded vaguely annoyed, but his face could show no emotion. "My black mist releases the element only wherever I so please. And I please to create elemental undead, not to kill and reanimate your master and his subjects." He began to walk through the rows of skeletons to demonstrate their inert state.


    They followed him. Though much more weary of the things.


    Scratch laughed nervously. "It must seem like all we''re doing is complaining and calling your motives into question. But to be fair..." he searched for the right words, "skeletons are scary."


    "Scary?" The lich cocked his head. "I suppose. I''ve grown accustomed to them myself. And you will too, once I release them into the continent, you will know them only as your saviors."


    "Release them... huh?" Scratch and Lydia exchanged glances.


    "Oh yes, the scale at which I can use my black mist is much greater than the number of creations can be controlled directly. Undead are best employed as hordes, flooding the lands of one''s enemies like a natural disaster," Ritter crossed his bony arms underneath his robe, "disasters are the earmark of dark sorcerers."


    "They do say quantity has a quality all of it''s own." Scratch quipped, "so... uh, you''re offering to whack the fairies with it?"


    "Whack them? Eradicate them you mean. Indeed, elemental undead will kill all living things you expose them to. With my help, you will be able to drench the lands outside these walls in potent death, and raise a horde that will march outwards by itself, into the witchwood, through the plains, and onto the harbor city."


    "Yes, with your help..." Scratch repeated in a slightly accusatory tone.


    Both stared into each other''s faces, Scratch craning up, Ritter looking down. In the darkness of the lich''s eye sockets a flicker of faint ghostly light could be seen. They dimmed slightly.


    Suddenly Scratch''s expression changed to a fake salesmen smile. "That sure is generous! Currently however... we are pursuing a non-violent solution with our neighbours. I hope we don''t seem ungrateful but for a weapon we don''t have much use at the moment."


    "Master! What are you saying!" Youthere protested.


    Scratch gave him a hateful look, and the demon''s own arm lifted up to block his own mouth from speaking.


    "Are you certain?" The lich asked. "Your current enemies are quite different from rival monsters. Fairies and humans are not keen to let go of an enemy once they''ve bitten down."


    "We believe peace is in both of ours best interest." Lydia said, echoing Scratch''s words.


    The lich stood silent. With no apparent facial muscles he was hard to read, and they began to imagine a simmering hatred from the rejection.


    But when he spoke he sounded merely disappointed. "Very well. A gift can not be given if it isn''t accepted. However, my offer is not rescinded. I will depart now, but leave a bird by which you can contact me, should you change your mind."


    Scratch bowed his head. "I''d hate to think you''ve come all this way for nothing. Can we offer you anything? Tea?"


    "I''ve not come for nothing. We have made acquaintance, which is much preferable to mere correspondence." He looked around. "I suppose I should discard of them before leaving."


    "Oh. Yes please."


    The lich flicked his wrist and the skeletons sank to their knees. They were not robbed of their energy, instead, they began to bash their skulls against the ground until destroyed, and ground their bones into dust. The fervent mass suicide disturbed the living but not the dark sorcerer. He gave a little bow as the black mist enveloped him in a towering spiral once again. When it dissipated he had disappeared with it.


    Among the dry sound of crunching bones it took a moment to make sure the visitor had actually left. But once he was sure Scratch released the deepest breath ever taken as a goblin and let himself fall onto the ground.


    <hr>


    "What the Ravenous Lich offered us. Is called patronage." Lydia explained once they were back inside.


    It had been decided that cleaning up the ravages of the magic demonstration would have to wait until morning, as it was still the black of night.


    Although many of the hamlet''s residents wouldn''t be able to sleep after witnessing what they did.


    Those of the main family that had stayed behind to face the lich had sat themselves down around the kitchen table to calm down and collect themselves.


    "What does patronage do then?" Jasper wondered, he was the only one of the three not fascinated and occupied by the tiny woman in the bottle.


    "Patronage is when a stronger lord offers a weaker lord to become their vassal. While still allowing them most of their autonomy. For their own protection." She explained.


    "Oh... what''s a vass-"


    "So this guy is stronger than us then?" Ada put the curiosity away to discuss matters of pecking order.


    Lydia nodded. "Vastly. Even kings are afraid of the Ravenous Lich." Then she turned to Jasper. "A vassal is just what we call an underling that leads others. Like a duke is to a king, or a count to a duke."


    "So... like the mothers of the colonies."


    "Exactly."


    "Weren''t you afraid he''d kill us all if we weren''t gonna become his underlings?" Ada asked seriously, "cause he is so powerful."


    Scratch puffed contemplatively on a blue grass cigar. "That was a concern, although we didn''t quite duck out of becoming vassals. If you remember he didn''t put that forward as a choice. He simply said we could use his name, taking our subordination to him as established fact."


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "But you denied him." Lydia said.


    "Yeah, that was a gamble. That guy has the ultimate poker face, he was as likely to say he was joking as he was to sick the skellems on us." He took a long drag. "What I declined for was his hair brained scheme to flood the countryside with his damn bio-weapon."


    Lydia nodded sagely. "Undead armies target warriors and civilians alike, they''re dishonorable weapons."


    "Honor or not, it''d be an extremely drastic strategy with no long term benefits to us."


    "What do you mean?" Felix wanted to know more about the properties and strategies of large scale weapons.


    "If we kill the whole knight regiment in one fell swoop, that only gives us maybe two months of peace." Scratch explained. "There''s more where that came from in this entire, enormous continent, and suddenly rooting us out is priority numero uno. So we get an even bigger army on our heads, possibly with even more freakishly powerful eugenics experiments as well. What can we do against that?"


    "Uhh.. more undead?"


    "Exactly, more undead. Because at that point, we''re trapped, completely dependent on Ritter''s spells. You see... oh, Ada, pay attention this is power politics stuff."


    "I''m paying."


    "You see, someone obeying you because they''re afraid of you is nice. I mean it''s good, it''s a winning formula. But getting someone to obey you because they''re dependent on you... that''s the real deal. Someone like that can never pick sides against you. You understand?"


    "I think I understand..." Ada mumbled. "If we''d taken the skeletons, we would never be able to stop needing them. And Ritter would have been able to demand all the clean water we have in return, couldn''t he?"


    "I don''t know where the clean water come in but yes, you''re on the money. I think he holds out hope that I''ll change my mind on the issue, and that''s why he didn''t break character today."


    Lydia sighed. "And what about the future?"


    "Let''s worry about the future when we get there. We still have our knight and fairy problems, and we''ve already got a magical overlord bleeding us, if you remember."


    "Lacrima." She stood up. "Let''s go downstairs."


    <hr>


    "Are we going to follow them? Are we allowed to?" Will asked his brothers.


    "We''re not forbidden." Piers answered, he was already climbing over the rocky debris.


    The three story tall brick and plaster wall had once cut off the watery antre that the trolls had emerged from.


    It hadn''t been seen up close since it was breached more than a month ago. Normally the area was lousy with the unpredictable trolls, but now they had retreated for some reason.


    Bree, who had been raised specifically to be their ambassador with the trolls, and had gotten them to leave the industry of the goblins alone, had been taken along.


    "I know Bree doesn''t want to live with the trolls," Piers stated confidently as he skated down the other side of the wall breach, leaving the magical light and entering the darkness "she likes punching games less than you do."


    "Hey wait." Trevor and Constantine hurried after Piers into the inundated tunnels, leaving just Will to look questioningly at Lacrima and Second.


    "I will not be made part of this," the witch huffed, as a direct answer to his expression, "I am not a shepherd of monsters. Solve it amongst yourself."


    "We will not do that." Second said assertively, although he didn''t dare to look her in the eye, "The forge is not mine. The forge is not Bree''s. The forge is not Scratch''s either. The forge is yours."


    "What are you saying?" Lacrima lowered her voice threateningly, "You must have forgotten why you obey me."


    "Second does everything here." Trevor said quickly to his defense, "Second thinks up all the tools, and Second repairs the parts that are broken." It was the truth.


    "Even if we are weak," Second balled his fists in frustration, "even if have to do what you say. It''s still your forge! So you have to protect it. You have to protect us!"


    "I must make an example out of you, musn''t I?" the witch croaked, stirring with ominous magic.


    "Yeah kill me!" He yelled, "throw me away! I''m not afraid." This was a lie. "Let all your monsters die, I hope you do! I hope you let the whole floor bleed out until you have nothing left!"


    Lacrima''s thoughts could be read plainly on her face. She had lost much of her influence with her exile from the city, she was now more dependent on the dungeon than ever. It was mostly via the head family that she held power here, if they decided to defy her she would have to start a small scale war subjugating the subhuman population, with Scratch proving to be more magically powerful than he had let on the outcome was more uncertain than ever.


    She licked her wrinkled lips. "Let''s say-"


    "Hey!" Will was standing on the other side of the breach and called back at them. "You have to come see this!"


    -


    There were no trolls in the antre. It was a small and silent natural maze, filled with brackish water up to their shins. It was as cold as ice, possibly colder.


    Where the thin layer of mud had been displaced on the floor a natural light shone through. Constantine had scraped circles and lines into it in a thoughtless artistic impulse, and now the low ceiling was a dance floor to shimmering refracted light.


    "No, no, come further." Will grabbed Lacrima''s hand and pulled her along to the end. Her small orbs of magical light lagged behind and she couldn''t see where she was putting her feet.


    As they came further along the water become lighter, easier to displace, and eventually turned into vapor.


    A carpet of snowy white cloud obscured the ground, which had to be tapering down as Trevor and Constantine were up to their waist, and Piers his neck.


    "It''s a cloud! Underground!" Trevor marveled.


    The witch knew exactly how this gas could sit aside real water, and the hobgoblins didn''t know why it shouldn''t.


    Only Second was confused. "How- What did you do!?"


    "I didn''t do anything." Trevor stated defensively. "There was already steam here."


    "Look at me! My head''s been cut off!" Piers demanded attention, then stuck his tongue out like a corpse.


    "Weren''t you looking for Bree?" Constantine remarked unimpressed.


    "Right... I''ll go down again." He held his breath and submerged.


    Second looked lost at Lacrima. She took her candlelight orb into her hand and whispered some magic into it, it sprouted into vines of floating light, flowing overhead the hobgoblins and then staying in place, illuminating the water vapor.


    "It really does lead further down then." She remarked coolly.


    <hr>


    "And that''s the story." Barbara had just about caught up the family to their younger members'' disappearance.


    She hadn''t stopped overseeing the unloading of the smuggler''s sloop while she did so, making the bandit leader, who was a former knight, wait on her and follow her around as she worked.


    "You''re sa-"


    "Hey!" Barbara whistled at two goblins carrying a water damaged crate, making them almost drop it out of shock. "Be careful with that!" She yelled.


    Lydia suppressed an impatient sigh and started again, slower. "You''re saying they took the witch with them? Why?"


    Barbara gave her a side-glance. "Why should I know? Why aren''t they loyal to you? Mine are to me."


    "My chil-" She stopped herself, there was no point in arguing. "Thank you. Goodbye."


    She passed Scratch sitting on the damp wooden floorboards. He was smoking a blue grass cigar and maintaining a superfluous meditation position.


    "Why didn''t they wait for us to come help them?" She asked, as she pulled him up by his armpits and lowered his now dangling legs on the floor, so that he was left standing. "If they thought Bree is in danger."


    "We gave them every reason to believe we''re dead." He responded coldly. "Remember?"


    "Poor kids. They must be so scared."


    "They''re scared? I''m scared. They aren''t visible anywhere in the dungeon." He flicked his cigar to indicate how he could know that. "Out and about in no man''s land... I''ve lost family members that way before."


    Barbara called out to them. "Scratch. When are you going to tell me where you keep all of our gold?"


    "Great negotiation technique, Barb! Great timing!" He put up his thumb sarcastically.


    "None of the mothers can make any deal with an outsider unless they come beg you or your little brothers for permission!"


    "And that suits us fine." He responded.


    "I can''t either. It''s my own gold, Scratch! Give me my dues."


    "We''ll talk later!" He waved her goodbye.


    "You promised me the thieves'' guild Scratch, don''t you forget it!" She called after them.


    "Barbara has done pretty well out of it. I thought." Lydia murmured.


    "Monopoly position on the boating, extortionate, really." He whispered back, "some people are just hard-done-by as a rule. That''s how she ended up with you in the first place."


    -


    Ada and the boys had fallen asleep on their chairs where they had been left.


    It was a communal gathering space for Barbara''s goblins to drop in and out of at their own leisure to eat food, discuss plans, or saw planks. The doorways were wide open and the floor melded uninterrupted with the public walkway.


    As the space didn''t belong to anybody it was messy and unclean, sporting food rests and saw dust.


    "I thought they''d have smashed the place to bits by now." Scratch mused.


    "It''s very late." Lydia responded.


    When she said that he had to suppress a yawn of his own.


    A loud slam by the bandit leader on the eating table woke everybody up.


    "Ha! What!?" Disoriented, Felix jumped up on the table with his weapons drawn.


    "Your brothers and sister are in the troll cave. We''re going after them." She said.


    Ada cracked her knuckles like the male bandits on the surface sometimes did. "If those trolls are hurting Bree again... *managgia*!"


    <hr>


    "Ada! Mom! Come see what we found!" Trevor cheered.


    "Yes, we''re safe, thanks for asking." Scratch peered out from behind his family members.


    "What did you find, sweetie?" Lydia asked.


    "Well, first, Bree was taken along with the trolls-"


    "Yes? Have you found her?"


    "Uh, not yet. She was going to do the dee-ploma-cee. Cause, you know, of the monster." He had a sudden realization. "What happened to the monster, did you kill it?"


    Ada walked up close to him and pushed against his chest.


    "Trevor, please tell us what happened." Scratch sighed.


    "Uh, so... she didn''t come back. And we followed them, and we found the place they come from. So... so I was going to take you... there." Slowly the boy was becoming aware of the charged atmosphere.


    "Please do." Scratch insisted, and gestured at him to start walking.


    "I said I was going to kill them. Didn''t I say I was?" Ada fumed.


    "I''m sure Bree is perfectly fine," her father sussed, "we''re just going to make sure real quick and then we can all go to bed."


    -


    They hadn''t yet found the other group at the edge of the steaming water vapor.


    Lacrima pointed down into the opaque depths, she had stayed behind and found a protruding rock to sit on so she wouldn''t get any wetter.


    "Aww, nobody waited for me." Trevor complained.


    "Now what am I looking at?" Scratch huffed indignantly at the pure white carpet of cloud..


    "It''s just the underworld honey." Lydia said in passing, she turned to the witch. "Did you lead my children here?"


    Lacrima . "You''ve grown disrespectful as of late. I am not in the business of kiting around dungeon monsters. Need I remind you of our respective positions?"


    The water splashed lightly as Lydia put a foot forwards. "Need I remind **you**-"


    "What the fuck are you two even arguing about?" Scratch interrupted. "Tell me this isn''t the gate to hell."


    "Dead? Nobody''s dead here." Will poked his head out of the cloud. "Come look below."


    "Scratch. You don''t know what the underworld is?" The bandit asked in concern.


    "Underworld? What''s the underworld?" The boys didn''t know either.


    Lacrima showed a bemused smile. "Scratch makes you forget how ignorant subhumans are." She had regained a sense of control over her fate having this confirmed to her.


    "I suppose you are very young by our standards..." Lydia said hesitatingly


    Underwater Scratch''s foot rapped impatiently against the stone. "Anybody gonna enlighten us or what?"


    "Haven''t you ever wondered why all the waters of the sea don''t drain away?" She asked him.


    "I... no, I haven''t."


    She pointed at the cloud. "The steam is harmless. It''s just sea water that can''t enter the underworld."


    "Yeah. Come down!" Will insisted. "We found Bree, she''s downstairs. Come on!"


    Lydia stepped into the unknown without any hesitation, but Scratch was still wary.


    She held out her arm as her older children passed by her. "I''ll hold your hand if you''re scared."


    He immediately felt condescended against again. "What''s keeping the witch from going in, huh?" He deflected.


    "Second said to make sure she''s also coming." Will said, "to say it''s also her trolls."


    She glowered at the obscured enemy. "It won''t take much more of this charity before this place becomes an expense over an asset." But she dutifully lowered herself and soaked her old women''s loafers once again.


    The two parents gave each other a meaningful look.


    "Let''s go over who is bearing what expense again sometime soon."


    Scratch took Lydia''s hand and she pulled him into the unknown.


    <hr>


    Skeleton


    Family: Undead


    Threat Level: E


    Reward: 3 copper pieces


    Skeletons are the weakest undead. As undead they are not found in nature, originating only from necromancy. Encountering a skeleton is an indication of a dungeon or dark sorcerer nearby.


    Skeletons are resistant to piercing damage, and can not bleed or be poisoned. However, they do have a weakness. Any magic that can heal does damage to undead instead. A healer of Rank E is able to hold their own against a skeleton without problem if they use their healing spells offensively.


    Skeletons are able to grasp and swing weapons, but not wield them with proficiency. A skeleton that demonstrates advanced techniques is an Intelligent Undead of Threat Level D or higher. It is unadvised to face undead whose exact nature and threat can not be established.

 We need a Show of Power

    They ran through the mists for a few seconds, taking on salty water condense as they went, and once they burst out into a sea of bright daylight it was as if they had been out in the rain.


    "Ow. Hey, what?" Scratch shielded his eyes from the suddenly intense light. It refracted into the droplets around them and bathed the tunnel in swirling rainbows.


    Lydia laughed girlishly and pulled him along, there was a bit of tunnel left to go towards the source of the radiance.


    In the walls to either side of them were the remains of old brickwork, all but disappeared into the natural stone.


    When they came to the end Scratch''s eyes had to get used to the light before he noticed he was standing on the edge of an enormous drop.


    "I get to be the one to show you for the first time then." The woman beamed. "The underworld!"


    From their perch they looked out over a vast empty space within the earth. The light came from the cave''s ceiling, where countless outcroppings of glowing crystal illuminated it with the light of day.


    They shone down onto a yellow-white desert, situated more than half a mile below them and stretching out many miles in every direction.


    He was dumbfounded. "But this is..."


    "Come on, say it." Lydia was happy to astonish him like this.


    "Below sea-level isn''t it? More magic?"


    "No magic. The sunstone you see here keeps the water out." She pointed at the glowing stones in the ceiling, their shine was painfully strong and the air shimmered with a desert-like quality.


    He did not point out that that seemed plenty magical to him.


    -


    The trolls were not on the ledge with them, so natural assumptions pointed to the sandy dunes below. There were enough rock outcroppings and occasional vegetation for them to be invisible from the elevated vantage point without really hiding.


    The hobgoblins had already found a path down. The ledge they were on was made out of ancient faded bricks and the crumbling tears and cracks between them obediently accommodated the orange fingers and leather bound feet with grip and support. Quiet and Second had their reservations, they peered over the ledge at the children scaling the wall.


    Scratch came up beside them. "Are we going to let them do that?" As he spoke he eyed a relatively large jute bag, tied with string, lying next to


    Second''s foot, but he didn''t make any mention of it.


    Lydia smiled without looking over the ledge. "They''ll come back."


    "If you say so."


    She hadn''t been the most confident person lately. So if she was certain about this...


    Scratch looked out over the sandy dunes far below. "The underworld. So it''s just a world underneath yours?"


    "You have heard of the six planes."


    "I have not."


    "We live in what''s called the overworld." She gestured in the air, forming a shape only comprehensible to her. "Every part of it belongs to one of the four kingdoms."


    "Five kingdoms, love," Lacrima corrected her as she finally joined them on the perch. She looked over the edge at the hobgoblins scaling down.


    "Is that entirely wise?"


    "They''re just about to turn around." Lydia commented. Then she continued. "Above the overworld are the heavens. That''s all the blue in the sky.  And above even that is the home of the stars. The astral realm. Where the gods live."


    "Benesant." Scratch got in edgewise.


    "Among others... But one can go down too. First reaching the underworld, that''s where we are now. Then the abyss. Then hell."


    "Doesn''t sound like much of a prize."


    "We avoid venturing down too deep."


    "Raah!" Ada complained loudly as she dragged herself back up over the edge.


    Her uncles tried to pull on her arms, but they didn''t have much weight and she swatted them away to find grip herself.


    "It just stops! It becomes smooth stone and you can''t get a grip."


    Lydia smiled knowingly. "We''re standing on the underground buttress of an ancient fortress. You were able to climb so easily because it''s all ancient brickwork. But the buttress can''t go on forever. You found the end of it."


    "Count yourselves lucky," Scratch stated, once most of the boys had gotten back up, "if you''d been able to keep clambering, you would have, wouldn''t you? And you''d be stuck hours away from any ledge or bottom when your hands got tired."


    Constantine looked at his fingers for a moment, imagining the scenario, then he spoke up. "Hey! Lacrima can turn us into birds! Then we can fly down!"


    "Oh! Please!" Will was very in favor of the idea.


    "How about we try to spot how the trolls got down?" Lydia suggested. "Otherwise we might end up somewhere totally different."


    They looked around somewhat aimlessly from where they were standing. Nothing particularly jumped out at them.


    -


    "Angus was a good tracker. He would have known." Felix sighed.


    "Psh, this is nothing like tracking in a forest." Piers challenged him. He had never known Angus but he now felt in competition with him over hunting ability.


    "Simple creatures," Lacrima insulted them, "know your quarry. How does a troll move. Huh?"


    "How? Ada considered the advice seriously. "Bree sort of... hops around, doesn''t she?"


    "The arms are bigger than the legs." Will added.


    "Then how can-" Just as he had began to speak, Scratch noticed it. The remnants of ancient metal struts that had once served some purpose in the architecture. They were spaced just far enough apart that a troll could swing between them and move to a lower ledge. "Well well well."


    "What?" Ada wondered, before she saw it too. "Does it go on like that to the bottom?"


    "Probably not. There''s a hole in that platform, an old elevator shaft I think."


    Without much hesitation, Lydia jumped onto the first bar and acrobatically threw and swung her way across, landing in a bow legged stance at the other end.


    She looked down into the square opening, and then gave them a thumbs up.


    "That''s nice dear! But what about us?!" Scratch shouted at her. None of the hobgoblins would likely be able to follow her act. Though more than a few would be willing to try.


    She unhelpfully beckoned for them to follow her.


    "Not an older woman like myself," Lacrima mumbled. Then she raised two arms high above her head and began chanting unintelligibly.


    "What are you doing?" The goblin patriarch huffed.


    "Be quiet, I am performing magic. You wanted a way across, did you not?"


    When she lowered her arms, a greenness bubbled up at her feet. Moss and grass inched forward into the air, moving like the arm of a thinking creature. The greenery solidified into a cluster of vines that stretched itself over and around the bars onto the other side, forming a bridge of sorts.


    "There, since the need was so dire. Do not expect me to repeat this trick, a witch must preserve her mana."


    "Didn''t want to fly across, huh?" Trevor quipped.


    She harrumphed. "I do not particularly fancy leaving behind my modesty."


    He winced, by suggesting she turn into a bird he''d proposed shifting out of her clothing, and now she''d put the image into his head.


    -


    The hobgoblins went first. One by one they crawled over the vines, each one getting marginally more daring, until Will walked over it with a straight back.


    Second pushed Lacrima in the back, making it clear that they would not leave her standing alone on the platform.


    Only once she was more than halfway across did he pick up his back and clamber onto the green himself.


    The baggage was unwieldy and heavy. He had tied the string around his forearm and wrist and carefully pushed it inches ahead of himself one step at a time.


    "Second, what in pete''s name are you doing? What is that bag?"


    "''S for Bree." He murmured.


    Just then the burdensome thing slipped out of his grip and rolled over the edge.


    It was so heavy that a single yank whisked him clean off the vine.


    "Second!" Of everybody yelling in shock Quiet was the loudest.


    But the brother had kept a hold of himself with his other hand, tightly grasping a small leaf stem.


    Scratch rushed after him and pulled on the underside of his armpits. "Let go of the bag, Second."


    "No."


    "Bree will understand."


    "No!"


    They were both relieved of their strain when the bag suddenly became weightless.


    Lydia Harkness was hanging from her legs and lifting it up. She had moved a significant amount of distance in a very short time.


    With her help Second was quickly put back in his place. He blushed a little to be touched by her.


    "Are we going to be alright?" She asked, picking up the bag. It clanged a bit from metal contents.


    "Better than alright, you''re a real hero." Scratch sighed.


    They gave each other a peck on the lips and she returned to the second ledge ahead of them, with the offending weight.


    After that, Quiet seemed deathly pale testing his weight on the plant matter.


    Scratch threw up his hand. "Wait. Quiet, we need somebody to keep watch of the entrance. I order you to stay here."


    Quiet nodded without a word, but he showed great relief on his face. Second didn''t look fooled however, he threw a faintly guilty smile at both of them.


    -


    "They must have climbed down through here." Lydia explained as the others arrived where she stood. "There is a linear gear here, that''s enough grip for a troll.


    Second had re-obtained the bag and slung it over his shoulder.


    The square hole they had gathered around lead all the way down to ground level, the arches of a gateway to the outside of the brickwork could just be made out. On either side of the long way down were large square outcroppings. A pattern of brass that repeated in the same measured distance every two feet or so.


    As she had said, it was a linear gear. At some point cogwheels attached to a carriage of sorts had to have moved it up and down through these vertical tracks.


    Trevor limbered up his shoulders, "let''s go."


    Scratch pulled at the back of his collar as soon as he tried to lower himself into the hole, slightly choking him.


    "Hold it right there mister, last I checked your arms are about one-third the size of a troll''s. How about you start with a plan?"


    Hearing that the other hobgoblins stopped lowering themselves into the hole as well.


    "I will not be summoning any more plant-life." Lacrima stated beforehand.


    "We can go back to get rope," Ada suggested, "but once we get it...."


    Lydia patted her shoulder "It looks like somebody already has a plan."


    Second had just put his bag down.


    "Are we gonna see what''s inside?" Scratch asked.


    But he didn''t get an answer, instead, Second gestured to some of the ancient wooden beams that were sunken into the vertical brickwork. Then he took some woodworking tools out of his sleeve and strewed them on the floor.


    "Hhm? Okay." Will seemingly understood clearly what he meant and held himself in-place in front of the architectural detail.


    "What are you doing?" Ada asked.


    "We''re taking a piece." He answered.


    "Will is always helping Second with cutting the wood for tunnel lining, so...." Trevor unhelpfully explained.


    Scratch began hand-drilling at various spots in the sides of the calcified wood, under watch of everybody there.


    The hobgoblin had a clear grasp of what his uncle wanted and exerted pressure on of its sides.


    When Second began to push a hatchet into the holes, forming a crack around the prepared line, Lydia understood what they were doing. "I see.


    Constantine, stand on the other side, over there and catch it."


    "Okay?"


    Out of the larger pillar came a smaller but perfectly straight wooden plank.


    The hobgoblins wrestled it between them for the honor of holding it up and putting it aside.


    With the same method, three more of such planks were produced.


    "It''s just to ladder down, you see?" Second explained.


    "Wow," Scratch lifted up his eyebrows, "since when did you become a master carpenter?"


    Second looked lightly surprised and then lightly angry. "Since when- are you a follower?" He whispered at him.


    "What do you mean by that? Hey."


    But Second turned his back and occupied himself helping the group put the planks in place.


    ''Laddering down'' was an expression borrowed from the risky business of constructing scaffolding for the large ovens in Lacrima''s cavern. It meant taking two planks, securing them in place between the struts, and climbing down, repeatedly moving the upper ones below you and securing them there in order to provide a path downwards.


    In this same manner they were able to place the salvaged material between the vertical gears of the elevator shaft and use them to climb down without tiring their arms.


    -


    After almost half an hour taking and placing planks, the family decided to take a break.


    They were still not halfway.


    Four planks next to each other made a reasonable platform, such that even the old woman could sit down in a relaxed manner.


    "Goodness. What am I doing in the bowels of the earth, chasing after some mid-level monster?"


    Scratch had a sardonic remark ready. "You''re here to secure a future for the new home that took you in."


    "Bree is down here because of you." Second said.


    "We might need to trade you for her." Lydia laughed.


    "What." Lacrima jumped to her feet, completely caught of guard.


    "Lydia... what exactly are you proposing?" Scratch asked reservedly.


    "Huh? It was a joke." She looked a little surprised, then pointed her finger accusingly at him. "You make jokes about grave matters all the time!"


    The mood visibly relaxed.


    "Well it''s a matter of setting expectations." He shrugged as if in an insincere apology.


    "Papa would do it if he could, you know!" Trevor commented.


    "Yeah, if Papa had said it I''d believed it." Felix added. "But Mama has honor."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "Okay. Okay. No more jokes." She patted their heads.


    Lacrima had not yet sat back down. "If I wanted to, I could destroy you, all of you."


    Scratch sighed. "And, will you?"


    "I have not decided yet."


    "Well, while you think about it, let''s have something to eat. Second, do you have any food in that bag of yours?"


    "No."


    "What do you have in there?"


    "There." Piers, who was eager to show off his tracking ability, had sat staring outward the whole time and now suddenly spoke up, "there in the plants."


    He was pointing to a habit of cactuses in the relative distance below them.


    "What do you see?" His mother asked.


    "There''s trolls, there''s definitely trolls in there. I saw one move."


    "It''s a reasonable walk," Scratch estimated. "If we can clear up the misunderstanding quickly, we''ll be back up and out by morning."


    "It will not be that simple." Lacrima spoke ominously.


    After that the laddering went quicker, and soon the floor came to meet them. Remains of what had once been a sophisticated elevator stuck out from the sand.


    At two stories high a couple of hobgoblins jumped down eagerly onto the remains. They required some healing afterwards.


    <hr>


    On the floor of the cavern one could be forgiven for imagining themselves on the surface.


    A desert stretched out before them, other than the one behind them no stone walls were visible, and a harsh sunlight shone down on them.


    The goblins and hobgoblins cringed away from the brightness with pieces of clothing and the women''s shadows, and even the humans protected their eyes from the glare.


    "The castle I grew up in had an underground buttress as well." Lydia sighed nostalgically. "We once snuck out at night to see the underworld. It was farther down than we had expected and was already midday when we returned. My father was furious."


    "Some good memories." Scratch remarked.


    "Yes. But... these days are happy too."


    "It''d put a big damper on these happy days if Bree ended up brood mother for a bunch of- there they are."


    The habit of cacti they''d been walking towards provided the shade for a gaggle of trolls. Having come as near as they had they could make out almost a dozen, napping between the greenery.


    Having their destination in sight caused the older hobgoblins to break out into a jog, but they slowed down when Bree didn''t immediately appear.


    The trolls noticed them too. One of them got up and began pacing left to right in front of them, to delineate territory.


    -


    "Well...?" The witch asked, "surely you had a plan coming here."


    "That''s the trouble," Scratch rubbed his chin, "this is precisely the kinda thing we wanted to use Bree for."


    Not seeing the outsiders recoil and flee at his display, the guard troll became agitated. He roared once more and began running towards the hobgoblins.


    "Forward. Shoulder Vice." Ada said in a commanding tone.


    Knowing exactly what she meant, Felix and Jasper took in positions before her. They were still holding on to the weapons they had brandished at the lich, and where pointing them confidently at their attacker.


    Ada had her leather whip, Felix his pronged Halberd, and Jasper a pair of claws attached to his forearm.


    The troll had stormed in expecting them to scatter, but now that they didn''t he refused to slow down.


    With Jasper right in front of him he leaped through the air, his massive arms over his head.


    The boy ducked underneath the force of the massive blow, letting the monster fall into the sharp of his blades.


    Yowling in pain the troll touched the ground and diverted itself to the side, avoiding most of the cut, but losing his footing.


    The other two exploited the weakness. Felix swiped at his hind legs, while Ada cracked her whip over one of its swinging arms, toppling it.


    As soon as the troll''s chin hit the dirt suddenly all siblings were on top of it.


    Ada pulled the arm that had been caught in her whip of his back and began to tie him up.


    Felix had a metal wire around his throat, and various other hobgoblins had sharp objects against the free arm.


    "We had to fight trolls all the time when we were stuck underground," Piers said, "it''s always this one."


    The creature did have a scar just underneath where Felix was currently pulling a wire.


    "If he cries the other trolls will come!" Felix said.


    "We can defeat one troll," Piers explained again, "but then we flee because then the others come. And there''s lots of them."


    Lacrima straightened her back with disdain. "Give me its blood."


    "There''s no time for eating." Piers insisted.


    "Its. Blood." She hissed evilly. An ominous magic crackling in the air.


    More out of curiosity than fear, Trevor cut the beast- its roar stifled by the garrote- and threw the knife towards the witch.


    Lydia caught it in the air, and handed it over in a more conventional manner than a ranged attack.


    With no real urgency, Lacrima took the blood off the knife and rubbed it between her fingers. Then she swatted it into the air.


    Scratch cocked his head. "What was that supposed to do?"


    But the hobgoblins were climbing down from the troll. The monster underneath them had turned completely to stone.


    "Wh-..." Scratch was flabbergasted and the witch walked away from him towards the stone beast.


    "Now you see the power of blood," Lacrima wagged her finger at Constantine, apparently resolving some earlier argument. "To a user of Guth''s magic, it is indeed weapon. One much more fearsome than your swords, and *ropes*."


    Constantine was speechless for just under a second. Then he cried out "You gotta teach me!"


    Scratch turned to Lydia. "Did you know she could-" but the woman had already caught up with the group. She was throwing Ada into the air.


    "You''re a knight! You''re real warriors! Why did you never show me you could do that?"


    Second, too, pulled up his heavy cargo and went ahead. Leaving Scratch as the last straggler in the group entering the cluster of cactuses.


    <hr>


    "I''ll get a higher view." Using her superhuman acrobatic skill, Lydia Harkness jumped through the air, seeing over the more than man-high forest of opuntias.


    Her brood was already swarming through the sandy garden.


    If Bree was somewhere between the prickly plants, bruised, beaten, and generally cowed into obedience, they only needed to reach her and heal her ailments before the trolls good and well found out.


    Having entered the dense habit, they were spotted by loitering trolls, but the area was unclear and disorienting enough that the monsters had trouble communicating their position and surrounding them.


    Sprinting in all directions through the forest startled and confounded the trolls, who were not as fast turning as they were bounding in a straight line.


    "I can''t see any prisoners or bodies." She said coming down.


    "I swear you were in the air for like half a minute," Scratch mentioned.


    "Scratch. Focus. We can''t stay in here for too long."


    Scratch scratched his chin, "she''s either not here, or they let her wander around nearby. There should be a way to group up."


    "The tree." Second pointed and what might as well be called a tree, for its size. It was a cactus the height of a two story building, towering grandly above the others. It certainly was a landmark to orientate oneself by.


    "Ah, a meeting spot," Scratch understood, "let''s go because I think-" as he spoke a troll turned the corner around a cactus near them "-that we''ve been spotted already."


    The woman and the goblins ran off in different directions, curving their path towards the appointed landmark. "Keep moving." She told them.


    "Attention, attention!" Scratch spoke into his voice amplifying rod while running. "The family of Bree is looking for her. Can Bree come to the meeting spot at the large cactus please? I repeat can- Second what are you doing? Just leave it behind, keep moving."


    He never took his mouth away from the rod, so everybody nearby could hear the conversation.


    Second had gotten his heavy bag caught on a spike. "I won''t, stop telling me to! Why are you always doing what the humans want?"


    "Doing what- We''re being chased if you didn''t notice! Oh good, it came off. Let''s go on."


    -


    Everyone did arrive at the hastily coordinated spot eventually.


    The two goblins being the last, seeing Lacrima seated on the back of a petrified troll and many of the hobgoblins panting heavily.


    "Bree is not here." Lydia stated stoically.


    Scratch rubbed his temples. "Maybe she''s already back home, wondering where *we* are."


    "Or maybe they killed her." She barked. "We used her for how she was born and she died from it."


    "I used her," Scratch put his hand on his chest, and she wasn''t born that way, "I''ll take responsibility if-"


    Just behind where he and Second had arrived a larger cactus practically exploded.


    A massive fist burst through the arid plant matter and launched green fiber and spikes into the air.


    It was a known face emerging from between the cacti. The largest male troll with the one broken tusk that had brutalized Bree at her first introduction.


    The alpha male.


    It didn''t roar or thump its chest. This time there would be no display or intimidation, he immediately closed in for the kill.


    "W-witch-"


    "For lasting magic I need a piece of its body." Lacrima explained. "Its blood."


    "We only need to draw blood." Felix readied his pole-arm and stood in front of them.


    "We''ve done it twice before." Ada cracked her whip in the air.


    But when they attempted the same manoeuvre again, the troll punched the initial attacked into the sand, throwing up a large cloud of it, kicked away the pole arm, and yanked the whip away once it had wrapped around his arm.


    The hobgoblins then attacked with a variety of tricks and throwables, but the troll''s thick skin seemed impenetrable.


    In his mad threshing he hit Felix square in the ribs, sending him flying into a cactus.


    One long spike had punctured his stomach, another had missed the back of his neck by a hair.


    "How do we-" Scratch was reminded of his own under-tuned threat recognition, "we can''t win. We have to run!"


    "I''m not leaving anybody behind." Lydia insisted.


    Scratch turned to her. "Either some of us survive, or none of us do. Do you really-" As he spoke the troll had leaped towards him and a stony fist the size of his entire body came inches from bursting his skull like an overripe watermelon.


    "-think-." Scratch touched his ear. He had felt the draft of a massive object being suddenly yanked away from his skin.


    There, seemingly out of nowhere, stood Bree. One arm to her chest, one outstretched in a single continuous arc from her torso.


    She had redirected the alpha male''s punch with her own.


    "Bree!" The children cheered.


    "And you thought she was dead." Scratch glanced smugly at Lydia.


    "You thought she was a brood slave." She whispered back at him.


    "I have been fighting," Bree brought her large arms up to her face, "the whole time."


    The alpha male got up and charged at her.


    He had the greater weight, but she was able to duck and weave out of his wide swings, landing quick jabs to his torso and face.


    As she had been taught, she was boxing.


    "The strongest troll is the boss troll." She said, being driven back by a large overhead strike, "if I''m the boss troll, we can all live here. I. Just. Need to. Win."


    Much of the troll family had found them by now, they were standing in clear sight between the surrounding plants, but they kept a respectful distance from the leadership struggle.


    She caught a hook by grabbing the inside of her opponent''s elbow and began punching at his sternum with her other arm.


    However, it seemed like her fist was getting more bruised than his chest and he smacked her over the side of her head, throwing her to the ground.


    Now that she was down, the alpha male considered his fight with her over. He huffed some sounds at her, that at closer inspection sounded like some kind of language, then he moved towards the intruders again. A bit slower this time, as he had just gotten out of a fight.


    The hobgoblins had been healed from any life threatening injuries, but they were not meaningful better prepared for a fight now than they had been a few seconds before.


    "Harkness. I will be taking my leave." Lacrima said.


    Her clothes fell to the ground as she had turned into an owl.


    Lydia grit her teeth. "She''s abandoning us."


    "She''s doing what any of us would do if we could." Scratch relativized.


    But as the owl fluttered up to higher strata it was struck out of the air.


    -


    Even the alpha male was stopped in his tracks gawking at what had just happened.


    One of the growths of the tallest cactus now stood differently than it had before. It had moved to strike the flying target.


    Everybody around instinctively distanced themselves from the plant as it began to twist and move.


    At the base parts uprooted themselves and found balance at other spots. Legs.


    All over the tall stem the arms folded out, and from in-between a head was uncovered.


    The creature''s face was lacking in detail and texture, like a jack-o-lantern cut out of a cactus, with a brightly colored flower directly on the crown.


    The troll leader roared aggressively and thumbed his chest.


    The living cactus looked at him, screeching back and twenty times the volume.


    It stumbled forwards and brought its green leg down on the much smaller enemy.


    Instead of dodging, the troll held it back, his hands grasping between the large spikes.


    The larger monster clattered and put in its full weight, squashing the troll and piercing it with its spikes.


    The struggle hadn''t lasted two seconds.


    Seeing this the rest of the trolls rushed towards the monster, ignoring the intruders and ganging up on the creature that had killed their leader.


    The cactus did away with them rather easily. It would kick trolls jumping at it, impaling them on its spikes and keeping them there.


    "Ha." Scratch tried to stifle a laugh, but couldn''t hold it in. "Haha! Hahahaha..."


    "Scratch, get a hold of yourself." Lydia begged. "You''re having a nervous breakdown."


    "No I''m not. This is wonderful. We''re all alive and the monsters are fighting each other. We can just make a break for it!" He laughed again. "Just when there''s no hope, out of nowhere. It''s a divine miracle! I''m invincible!"


    "Snap out of it!" She tackled him, throwing him out of the path of a spiked arm crashing down.


    The plant had bent over its long stem in order to direct its branch at him specifically, and it followed them with its eyes.


    The habit was in chaos. Neither troll nor hobgoblin know where to run or where their allies where, jumping from place to place between the random splashes of destruction the monster inflicted on the ground.


    Between it all Bree was uprighting herself from the ground.


    Jasper had used up his last mana healing her head injury and Second had put down his bag.


    When Lydia brought Scratch to them he was just about to open it.


    "I tried... very many times." She tried to explain. "To become the leader."


    "It''s alright. Can you stand?" Lydia asked her.


    Second had now retrieved the contents of the bag. A series of steel plates with interlocking shapes and bands of leather.


    "Cause the surface is dangerous. There''s humans, and the thieves'' guild, and the smoke monster."


    The cactus looked directly at them. It had uprighted itself and moved towards the small group. Second and Bree were now hurriedly assembling his package and attaching it to her forearms.


    "If I put everything I have in a fire spell. We could kill it. But I need to hit the head." Lydia strategized, now seeing they wouldn''t be able to flee its range in time.


    "What are you two doing?" Scratch asked the troll and goblin.


    She opened and closed her left hand. When closed the plates of steel folded over each other to protect her fingers, forming a perfectly square shell.


    Second had created a pair of gauntlets for her.


    "It was to win against the trolls." He explained as she flexed. "If you smelt it even hotter, it becomes even stronger."


    The cactus had breached the distance and brought down its massive limb for an attack.


    Lydia tried to grab Scratch and Jasper to jump away, but Bree put her large arms around all of them, keeping them in place.


    "But now I know-" the full weight of the monster bashed into them sending a shock wave through the air.


    "there''s nowhere to run to." The attack had been stopped by Bree''s gauntlets, which were the size of a great shield when put together, and couldn''t be scratched by the cactus spikes.


    With one hand she smashed against the limb, cracking it wide open.


    For the first time, the creature screeched in pain. Its insides where as plantlike as its exterior.


    It swiped at them once more, but she punched the side of its arm, redirecting its attack into the ground.


    "Bree, can you make it fall to the ground?" Lydia asked.


    "It''s like a troll game," Jasper said, "if you get it on its knees, we win."


    "Okay, I will." She breathed in determination and leaped forward.


    The monster now tried to avoid her, retracting its leg to dodge her attack.


    She she jumped at it it retreated further and further back, until it stepped on top of one of its inanimate relatives.


    Not retreating any further it brought its arm down in an overhead swing.


    In an extension of the boxer''s duck she rolled to the side, avoiding the brunt of the attack but still being caught up in the cloud of upturned sand.


    For a second they didn''t know where she had gone but she came out flying, smashing into the nearest leg and undoing it of crucial support now that its center of mass had been launched forward.


    As intended the creature fell onto the ground, its head a few meters above the actual sand only by its arms.


    Its face showed something akin to actual fear when Lydia Harkness appeared in front of it.


    She had jumped high up into the air while casting a spell, one arm outstretched behind her.


    "Rhada''s... Spear!" She yelled triumphantly as a shining lance of red hot fire appeared in her hand and she threw it with all her might.


    The plant''s head exploded on impact, sending countless pieces of burning debris into the air behind it.


    The enormous form sank to the ground, dead.


    A strange silence descended upon them, as the screeching had halted abruptly.


    Without the source of indiscriminate chaos, it was easier to find one another.


    The family grouped together again, including Lacrima, who was back to human and had been given Constantine''s over shirt.


    "Mom. You killed the tree!" Piers cheered.


    "That''s impossible," Lacrima huffed, "a greater cactipod should be beyond the ability of anybody here."


    "It was a group effort." Lydia stated humbly. "I''m just happy Bree is safe."


    "I don''t think I can keep on fighting..." Bree panted, looking out over the trolls surrounding them.


    "Me neither." Lydia said softly.


    "Yell." Second said.


    "What?"


    "Bree. Yell."


    Bree straightened her back and roared like the alpha male used to.


    The trolls all bowed their heads.


    "I see..." Scratch mused, "proved your strength did you? I suppose that''s fair, you did wrestle a tree."


    "Do you want to live here Bree?" Lydia asked her.


    She thought about it for a moment. "Now way! If there''s monsters either way, I''d rather live in the house with bed and water!"


    <hr>


    Making their way back they met up with Quiet and explained the situation.


    "I think that makes her king of the trolls now," Scratch concluded, "it''s a good thing that green thing-"


    "It''s called a greater cactipod," Lacrima interjected.


    "It''s a good thing the cactuspod tried to kill all of us."


    He became self conscious halfway through his sentence and didn''t make any flippant comments about the situation for the rest of the journey.


    "You were right," he said to Lydia, "I am always making jokes. I just... I can''t take all of this seriously. If I did, I think I''d explode. Every day I see something that boggles the mind. Magical powers, bloodsucking demons, fairies, skeletons, an entire world right under our feet... Any of them alone would- I don''t know. I have to distract myself from it all."


    "Scratch...." she hesitated saying anything. "You can make jokes if you want to."


    "Thanks."


    -


    When they reached Lacrima''s home at the cavern dockyard, the sun was just rising.


    "We''ve been up all night." Ada yawned.


    "Fighting for our lives." Piers proclaimed proudly.


    "Mostly climbing," Jasper laughed.


    "That''s a kind of fighting."


    "Oh yeah? How?"


    "You''re fighting gravity."


    "Well, you''ve kept me from my business long enough," Lacrima pouted, "I will be retreating and-"


    "Wait a minute," Scratch grabbed her sleeve. "Ada, do you still have it?"


    "Have what?"


    "The fairy."


    "Fairy?"


    "The tiny girl!"


    "Oh!"


    She fished the tube the lich had given them out from her leg strap.


    The creature sat defeated in its prison, battered from the constant movement on the hobgoblin''s thigh.


    Lacrima looked at it annoyed.


    "I understand it''s an advance scout..." Scratch began.


    "I know what fairies do." She snapped.


    "Then you understand what risk you''ve exposed us to without informing us."


    "Does it matter? Our contract was never predicated on your consent."


    He exchanged glances with Lydia, she was angrier than he was.


    "Then I suppose it''s time to re-examine our contract."


    The bandit leader pulled out a throwing knife. Seeing that the hobgoblins readied their weapons too.


    "You bastard. You tricked me into spending my mana." The witch hissed.


    "Not so much a pre-conceived plan, but capitalizing on the moment now that it''s here. You know how it goes."


    The old woman stepped back, but the younger woman put her hand on her shoulder.


    "What do you need the steel weapons for, Lacrima." Scratch asked tonelessly.


    She grimaced. "I have been building an army."


    He laughed a bit, but he was the only one seeing humor in the situation. "An army?"


    "The orphans I had taken in, they are under my power. I had planned to march them onto the witchwood in order to reclaim it."


    "So you did plan on taking them on yourself."


    She looked between the parents nervously. "That''s right, if my plan comes to fruition, the fairy queen will be destroyed for you. I only need to redraw plans on how to harvest her feybloom in the coming months."


    "Scratch." Lydia said. "We won''t have another chance like this."


    Scratch touched the side of his nose. "You haven''t been entirely hostile with us, have you Lacrima?"


    "I haven''t."


    "In fact. I think you''ve helped us more than you''ve asked of us."


    "... perhaps."


    "I think we can continue being allies in the future."


    The group put away their weapons.


    If Lacrima really had a plan for defeating the witchwood, that was one more plan than they had.


    "Why did you want to destroy them anyway?" Constantine asked.


    She sighed. "I do not expect you to understand. Control over great magical resources is something every ambitious witch craves. It''s how we decide our status."


    "No. I get it. It''s the same for everyone, isn''t it? Magic or weapons or money, the situation is different, but the wants are the same."


    They let the witch go, un-murdered.


    Hopefully she would remember this as an example of their mercy, but she might remember it as an example of opportunism instead.


    -


    Later, when most had gone in for a quick nap and the sun was high in the sky.


    All the way at the top of the dungeon, above the furnaces and above the wolf den, laid back on a window frame of the family home, Scratch was communing with Cyclophan, the evil god of guile and trickery.


    A thick cigar filled with blue grass gave just the minimum topping of magical power to communicate their thoughts between the two of them.


    Did you do this? He asked in a tone as casual as he could muster.


    I don''t know what you mean.


    Don''t- He pinched the bridge of his nose. Don''t play around right now. You told me before that you can affect the minds of creatures in the cave. Now, did you use the trolls to lure us down?


    I did.


    Did you get the plant to attack us.


    ...yes.


    Scratch took a deep breath. Why?


    You routinely defy and blaspheme me. As soon as you deemed the dungeon suitable enough for your family, you abandoned your purpose to expand it.


    So you intended to kill and replace me.


    I wouldn''t do that.


    You certainly wouldn''t tell the truth if you did.


    The god spat soundlessly. If I have any hope of achieving my ambitions in the time I have left, I need a dungeon master that can see the power of the underworld and is willing to harness it. That''s why I brought you below, in order to show you its power.


    Power? What power?


    The dungeon we have build so far is a channel for magical power. A small trickle that allows me to build up mana for monster evolutions, and the odd dark magic ritual. The underworld is a repository for countless of these channels. If only I could be connected up to it, we could access the strength of a mighty river.


    You mean you would.


    Haven''t I shared generously in my gifts? You hold out on me to negotiate a greater share, but you are in need yourself. A force of trolls and greater curses could protect you against the growing thread of men and fairy. These are things I can provide with a stronger core.


    It''s not like that isn''t true... Why do you want to become so strong anyway?.


    It is in my nature to do so.


    Uh-huh. He wasn''t satisfied with that answer at all. I''ll see what I can do.


    <hr>


    Greater Cactipod


    Family: Plants


    Threat Level: C


    Reward: 5 gold


    Greater cactipods diverge significantly in appearance from their smaller cousins. Their body and limbs are elongated, and they can reach heights of 60 feet. Unlike normal cactipods, they are passive creatures, content to feed on ground nutrients and water, only attacking those that come close.


    Greater cactipods choose large cactus habits as their habitat, and are usually surrounded by regular cactipods within the vegetation. They are not the older versions of cactipods and they do not exert control over them.


    Cactipod flowers are precious alchemical materials, however, they only bloom once every forty years. Once should not seek out any type of cactipod with the expectation of being able to harvest flowers.

 Bigger Fish

    "Managgia! What happened here!?" Aimone dropped his knapsack stood gawking in the middle of what had just previously been a healthy growing market square.


    "Skeletons." Felix answered in an aloof way.


    He was sitting on the pristine roof of a one-story home with blackened walls and windows from the magical demonstration the other night.


    Out in the streets a number of human residents of the town where sweeping up the skeletal remains that had crashed themselves into every surface.


    "Skeletons? You mean you were invaded by undead monsters?"


    "Pshaw. That''s a good word for it," a resident paused his brooming to say, "the sun''s just set and all the stars are eaten up. Next thing we know the streets are aflush with the visages of death. A straaaange ceremony occurred here that night minister, the undead bowed and stood at attention for Harkness'' family. It was an eerie mockery of a military exercise! Next thing you know, they destroy themselves. It might haunt me forever."


    "Yeah a lich visited," Felix sighed, "but Papa send him away."


    As they were talking Bree had come up to them and was snooping into Aimone''s knapsack if he had any food.


    He barely even noticed. "You must be mistaken, a lich! That would be a world-ending threat, this place would be destroyed with the snap of a finger."


    "We weren''t destroyed, but we did have to fight a tree." Felix said.


    Aimone looked from him to Bree, who was chewing on a leather vest. She nodded in confirmation.


    -


    Not too much later, after putting his things away, Aimone stormed into the manor, planning to give Lydia Harkness a piece of his mind.


    At the dining table he found Lacrima, Barbara, Harkness, two favored colony mothers, and Scratch in deep discussion.


    They had a map spread out in front of them.


    Scratch looked up. "We should really start locking that door."


    "What''s the meaning of this?" The Grienician asked exasperated.


    "Please wait outside." Lydia asked. "We are in a meeting."


    He showed no intention of obeying.


    "Actually," Scratch said, as if he had just thought of it, "why don''t you join us. You''re a minister, I remember appointing you to something..."


    "Water." Aimone hissed hatefully, "I''ve been underground for WEEKS digging sewer tunnels under the river and tannery."


    "Good." One of the colony mothers sighed. "I was just saying how I wouldn''t be able to go back to normal after using the actual toilet here."


    "Then all the tunnels are connected?" Scratch asked.


    "Can we return to the topic at hand?" Lacrima demanded.


    "Sure, Aimone, if you could get a chair or stool or something from the living room you could join us."


    After the back and forth had killed his momentum, Aimone tried to gain it back. "I have some questions for you!"


    "Sure sure, grab a seat and join us."


    -


    When he did finally get a seat the party was bend over the map.


    "-as long as this is maintained, their power cannot grow any further." Lacrima explained, putting down a red pencil with which she had circled a point of interest in the witchwood.


    "I''ll contact my sister," Barbara stated, "we can channel your adventurer requests through another medium."


    "I don''t think so," Scratch leaned back, "her usual requests are under more scrutiny now. It would raise suspicions with knights on every corner."


    Lydia looked right at Aimone, "we have some experienced combatants of our own."


    "What''s this about?" He wanted to know.


    "That would not be a long-term solution," Lacrima sighed, "the fairy mind commits to memory all who have trespassed in her forest before.


    Going in a second time after stealing a feybloom would trigger the most grievous reaction right at the onset."


    "What about goblins?" One of the mothers suggested. "There''s always enough goblins."


    "Send in a new generation of goblins every half year?" Scratch clenched the pencil between nose and lip. "That could work."


    *Wham!* Aimone slammed he palm on the table. "What nonsense are you discussing? Explain these stories of the undead and fairies."


    Lydia stood up threateningly, but Scratch calmed her down. He tapped the map, "take a look. There are four existential threats to our community."


    "Aren''t you supposed to know this?" The other brood mother quipped. "I thought all defenders were aware. It''s kinda scary that you don''t."


    "Well show me then." Aimone snatched the map from the table and held it up. Three locations were circled in red, one in the witchwood, at the other side of the river, one outside the forested area in the rolling plains, and the last one being Eston, the home of their thieves'' guild patrons.


    "The fairy queen, she who rules over the witchwood at this time, is intend on our destruction." Lacrima shrieked.


    "My father is building another fortress in the plains." Lydia articulated. "He''ll renew his assault in a few months."


    "He''s pulled some strings in Eston too," Barbara moaned, "associates of ours are losing influence."


    "So we''re devising a comprehensive strategy of sorts," Scratch concluded, "a plan of attack for each problem."


    "Impossibile! There are fairies in the witchwood?" Aimone still had the map in front of his face.


    "If we want to maintain Lacrima''s regular schedule of stealing the feybloom, we might need a permanent colony nearby, as a base of operations so to speak." Scratch looked at the favored brood mothers.


    They avoided his eyes. They were only just benefiting from increasingly advanced infrastructure and didn''t feel like moving their brood over to a fresh border.


    "Hhm, that''s not necessary..." Aimone mumbled while studying the map. "You can travel back and forth in a day now."


    "What was that?"


    He put the map down to show them and traced a path with his fingers. "I was just out in the territories. They''re making the goblins lay gravel roads for trade. You could walk from here to there in a day, supply it like a fortress."


    "That would work." Lydia nodded. "You are surprisingly competent."


    "Surprisingly? I''ve served in wars you know. Managgia!"


    "When it comes to fighting captain Harkness and his forces, you are prepared?" Lacrima asked.


    "The goblin nation is more populous and strong than it was last war, and that is multiplied each month." The brood mothers boasted.


    "The trouble is. He will anticipate that." Lydia bit her thumb. "If the war effort recruits powerful adventurers that would pose a problem."


    "Barbara and I have a meeting with some Eston-...-ians soon." Scratch reported, unsure of the proper nomenclature. "We''re there for guild business, but perhaps some rumors about adventurers will float our way."


    Their meeting was interrupted by two colony goblins walking up to Scratch and pulling his sleeve.


    "What''s this? More of them? Who else wants to join our top secret meeting? I''m afraid we''re out of chairs so please sit on the floor."


    "The mih-rohr." One of the goblins said. "Came to see the mih-rohr."


    Half a dozen or so were waiting in the doorway with less nerve to approach him.


    "Upstairs, walk around and you''ll find it. Just don''t disturb Second any more."


    Aimone watched them run off with both eyebrows raised.


    "We have a mirror. They really like it." Scratch shrugged.


    Aimone put his hand over the map. "You mentioned a fourth threat. What is it?"


    "Didn''t you see the mess the town''s in?" Scratch asked.


    "Of course I saw it!" He half shouted.


    "That was the Ravenous Lich." Lydia explained.


    "The... Ravenous... Lich...?" Aimone stammered.


    "It is common for magic users of a certain caliber to first introduce themselves with a feat of their highest magic," Lacrima sighed, "such necromancy is so far beyond me that I can scarcely understand it. He truly is fearsome."


    "If a creature like that conquers us..." one of the brood mothers audibly gulped, "there would be no mercy or servitude. He would drain everything that we are and animate our bodies to be his servants!"


    "He is conniving at least," Scratch added, "in his very first meeting he tried to trick us into becoming his slaves."


    "What are you saying!?" Aimone yelled exasperated. "The ravenous lich!? One of the contenders for the title of demon king!? You might as well made enemies with an actual god!"


    Scratch smiled cryptically.


    <hr>


    The days thereafter the mirror had become a popular attraction in the estate.


    There was something wondrous about seeing a whole world from that thin window that captivated the goblins. Additionally, there was no opportunity elsewhere to know precisely what they looked like. The idea had caught on that you should see yourself at least once.


    They had to put the mirror in the entrance way, to make it more accessible.


    The third day after they had done so, a true mob of more than two dozen goblins from near and far had gathered in front of it.


    Constantine the hobgoblin was there at that time, pushing aside pilgrims all the way from the outer colonies, in their furs and feathers, and holding a book in front of the mirror.


    He then put the book down and lifted up the mirror. To the great consternation of those around him.


    But he did not do anything untoward with the priceless object, only put it down again on the longer side.


    He opened the book towards the mirror again, and was greatly displeased by what he saw.


    "Why does the mirror only change left to right?" He shouted into the living room.


    "I''m deaf to loud noises!" Scratch yelled back. "I can only hear you if you talk normally!"


    "Why-" He jumped over the goblins, who were now summarily occupied with saving the sacred object from its disgraceful position, and entered the house proper. "Why does the mirror only change things left to right? Why doesn''t it change top to bottom?"


    Scratch licked his finger and turned the page of his booklet. "It doesn''t."


    "Yes it does! Ada showed me." He held up the torn and smudged novel that the siblings collectively owned. "If you hold a book in the text is backwards. Everything is right to left!"


    "It''s not right to left, it''s front to back." Scratch reiterated without looking up.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Constantine huffed indignantly. "If it''s not changed left to right, why are the words backwards."


    Scratch sighed, then he looked at him and smiled. "Well let me look."


    He put his own reading down and took his son back to the mirror.


    "Excuse me, coming through."


    For him the mass of goblins was considerably more difficult to push through.


    "The great mirror is tired, let''s give him some rest."


    When he had said that a mutter of apologies went out and the goblins began moving it from its standing position back into a lying position.


    It still took a few minutes for father and son to get exclusive access to their own piece of furniture.


    "Look," Constantine stated once they had it, "if I hold it up like this the text is backwards."


    "Hold it, you''re rushing way ahead," Scratch laughed, "give me the book."


    Constantine reluctantly handed over the object.


    "Now let''s see here. I''m holding the left side with my left hand and the right side with my right hand, right?"


    "Uhm..."


    Scratch smiled at him through the mirror. "My left hand is at the start of the sentence, "A great many-" and my right hand is here by the word "tragedy." As he mentioned each hand he lifted its index finger and wiggled it. "This one is left, this one is right, just like in the mirror."


    Constantine frowned. "Yeah... but if you show the text in the mirror."


    "First we have to turn the text to the mirror, right? How do I that, I could cross my arms..." He suited the action to the word and flipped the book over.


    Constantine yelled in vindication. "See! The A is on the right and tragedy is on the left! Not just the words are changed, the letters too."


    "Calm down." Scratch laughed, "did the mirror change it over or did I? I crossed my arms didn''t I? Left. Right." He once again wiggled his index fingers successively.


    "But that''s... uh..."


    Scratch turned the letters towards the two of them again. "The mirror shows the other side of the book, so if we want to see this side of it, we have to turn it around. You can turn left to right, but you can also turn..." he flipped it upside down, putting his elbows in an awkward position and obscuring his own vision with the back of the book. "top to bottom. Does it look right to left now?"


    Constantine stared at the letters in awe. "No... it''s changed. It''s left to right but upside down!"


    "Well there you go." He handed the book back. "You get it now?"


    "It''s changed front to back... but- and to see the front we turn it around. Right to left, top to bottom, either way!"


    "Yeah, you got it." Scratch patted his side in affirmation. "What time is it? Actually, it''s a good thing you got me standing, I need to be somewhere."


    <hr>


    Below the manor and the goblin tunnels they had once used for living was the wolf den.


    In recent days the cave exposing the underground river had been expanded using spellpaper and lit up using sunstone.


    The light giving material had been chipped off from the ceiling of the underworld by daring goblins on precarious ladders and given a spot on the wooden floored underground.


    Where the wolves slept in cushioned indentations in the floor, the sunstone was caged in timber receptacles sticking upward. The light level was variable, the small wooden panels making up the exterior of its cage were interlocked in such a way the turning one folded all others with it.


    Stroking such a lamp would open or close it like a flower, narrowing or widening the beams of light.


    The warg wolves were now more comfortable spending extended amounts of time in the space, no longer cramped together in absolute darkness. Its increased dimensions curved around in a wonky half-circle and connected to the basement tunnels at multiple places.


    On his way to the drip stone cavern Scratch could stop by and speak with Wendy in a relaxed environment, making note of the fact that she was no longer the only wind wolf there, and seeing the chicks of cockatrices and dark geese roost in the now multiplied bird coops.


    Despite Cyclophan''s complaining, his dungeon was most certainly growing in power.


    -


    The forge caverns hadn''t improved that much. Not in light levels and not by dimensions.


    When Scratch arrived at the dockyards the sun had just gone down and the place was being light up by torches.


    There were others there already and he joined their conversation in Barbara''s current home.


    "It''s still some time," she told him, before continuing her story on thieves'' guild leaders to Lydia Harkness.


    It was a more decorated place among the shacks of the underground docks, sporting a real carpet and non-functional balustrade. Although most of it was still a single large room, there was a doorway to a small walled off section in the back.


    Their somewhat one-sided conversation was interrupted by one of Barbara''s goblins. "The sloop is ready..." he reported hastily before running off.


    He likely had no understanding of the importance of his task and performed it with the same languid routine he performed all others.


    It wasn''t policy for Barbara''s goblins to understand how or why to do things, just to do them.


    "Are you sure you want to do this?" Lydia asked Scratch once they were standing outside.


    "Of course I do, I relish the opportunity to meet new people." Scratch smiled and caressed her cheek. (For which she had to bend over considerably.)


    "I fear they will not want to meet you."


    "You worry too much!"


    They rubbed their noses together, making Barbara scoff in contempt.


    "I beg of you to take me along, master!" Youthere insisted not for the first time, tugging on his long sleeve. "I must smell the sin and weakness of mankind once more. I can help you destroy them!"


    "We''re not taking an entourage!" Barbara responded, not for the first time, "it''s a tiny sloop, for discrete meetings."


    "Then let me go in your stead," the demon almost drooled at the thought, "I am your familiar! You can take hold of my body and senses at any time. My appearance is more human-like than yours after all."


    Scratch sighed and pulled away his sleeve. "That''s discounting the diplomatic disaster that''s everything about you. None of this has anything to do with destroying anybody, so keep quiet and don''t remind me of how much I don''t need you."


    So it transpired that the only things leaving the underground docks by water that evening where Scratch, Barbara, and a chest filled with gold half Scratch''s size.


    Once the small sail had caught wind they slid smoothly over the water and out of the warm flicker of the torches, into the cold night.


    -


    During the long and silent way there Barbara kept eyeing the cargo. "It makes me anxious to carry so much wealth in such a small boat. We could lose it."


    "Gold has that effect," Scratch mused sleepily. "When I first got here, the goblins were deathly afraid of having gold around. They said it would attract humans. I guess they were right."


    "So what''s our plan after this?" Barbara inquired. "We can''t keep it up forever you know. What do we do when the bitches see through your ''paper money'' scheme and come asking for their gold back?"


    He looked at her, there was a slight pity in his eyes. "We give it back to them Barbs."


    She let go of the tiller for a second. "But we just took it."


    "Did you think that was the master plan? All of this to embezzle some scraps the girls got together selling pig hides?"


    "Oh yeah!? Want to tell me what we''re doing sailing away with it!?" She raised her voice defensively.


    "We''ve been keeping an account of the purchases by the colonies over the past two months, haven''t we?"


    "Yeah?"


    "And the results?"


    "uhm-"


    He answered for her. "About two-thirds of the gold pile never moves. When Annebeth sells her linen at your market square, she exchanges all the gold for my pieces of paper. And when she buys spices she exchanges the paper again to pay you. The gold goes back and forth, and the same few coins can be used for Annebeth''s business, and Denise''s, and whoever else''s. That leaves 600 hundred of them just sitting there."


    He patted the chest. It contained exactly 600 gold coins.


    "So because they''re forced to use your paper, we can keep two thirds of it for ourselves..." she nodded understandingly.


    "Not forever, circumstances might change. If the colonies need more things and have less to sell, they might need access to our 600 again."


    "Scratch... what exactly are we here to do with this money?"


    Scratch idly watched his hand wade through the water. "A few months ago I had banking explained to me."


    "Yeah? It''s something for adventurers, or other kinds of travelers. But they don''t hand out paper, they keep accounts."


    "You know about it?"


    Barbara was a bit annoyed at his question. "Of course I do. There''s a bank office at every decently sized city, with the sunflower mark, you can deposit or withdraw money. It''s a bank."


    "Yeah..." he shook the water off his hand, "except that''s not what a bank is."


    "What are you talking about? Yes it is."


    "No i-"


    "I''m not letting some wild creature tell me anything about what a bank is. I know what a bank is."


    He laughed. "Of course you wouldn''t."


    It fell silent between them.


    Scratch stared peacefully at them moon, while Barbara became increasingly antsy.


    "Just tell me."


    "Storing money is only the first step. Once you have it, you need to use it."


    Barbara was still resistant. "Spending other people''s money is our business. But not of a bank, they keep it safe."


    "We''re not going to spend this money," Scratch explained, "we''re going to invest it. Ah, speak of the devil. "


    The boat almost bumped into the meeting place.


    <hr>


    The Roving Mare was a mighty vessel. Not fast or battle ready, but large. A flat broad ship that could carry a true mountain of grain.


    Every spring it would set out from Eston''s shore and circle around the southern sea, trading eastern spices in Grienice and Blurich for advanced contraptions and precious magic jewels.


    The captain had seen his share of the world, though born and raised in Dichtershire, he had no more loyalty to the Reddington crown than any roving bandit.


    That''s why he allowed the thieves'' guild of Eston to conduct their shady deals on the deck of the Roving Mare, while it was anchored at the bank in front of the harbor, only just outside the view of the city officials'' prying eyes.


    -


    "Well well well." The captain thundered merrily as he lifted the cache of gold out of the sloop before any of the living occupants. "What''s to keep us from welcoming this little lady on the ship and sending off her chaperones, ey?"


    His deckhand gave a sycophantic little laugh and the much larger captain shoved him for his lack of authenticity.


    "Rather steep for a broker''s fee, isn''t it?" A childlike voice rang out. A goblin was pouring itself through the gaps in the taffrail. "Someone like me could never ask a fellow man to follow his honor. The lady can defend herself, I assure you sir, she bites."


    The seaman laughed so merrily that he had to hold his belly and put the treasure down. "I''ve seen talking monsters before, but none that speak of honor like you do. That pleases, me. Another tall tale for the women of port Monteque to never believe! Hahaha!"


    A small army of sailors stood there to laugh along and share in the merriment, alongside a much less joyous outsider in a green cowl.


    Scratch stood speechless for a moment. At the other side of the ship he could see Eston for the first time.


    It was a surprisingly developed town, with tall stone buildings and wide roads. Even now during the knight it was abuzz with light and activity.


    Strangely enough, the wall around the city was perfectly circular, with a chicaning river right through the middle. The harbor on the river delta was therefore a bit outside of the city proper.


    -


    "Hey!" Barbara yelled out from below. "Am I gonna get some help here or what? Be gentlemen whydon''tya!"


    Her ship was tied up and her person elevated out by two young and swift workmen.


    She blushed a bit being handled so easily by the much younger males.


    "Look at her, rather elegant looking for a goblin, isn''t she?" The captain quipped.


    "That''s subjective." Scratch answered.


    "Can we please just get to business?" The stranger in the green cowl pleaded.


    "Of course we can," Scratch stuck out his hand, "they call me Scratch, nice to meet you."


    "Nobody here needs to know my name." The green cloak grumbled.


    Barbara laughed, "I know your name-"


    "Well don''t say it." He insisted.


    "Then we''ll call you Lucky Winner." Scratch decided, "you had something to show us?"


    "Yeah, with the captain, captain?"


    Still holding the chest under his arm the large men led them to the enclosed living space.


    Splayed out on a little mat were a number of neatly tied herbs and powder boxes, as well as four glass bottles.


    The captain pouted. "That''s what we were waiting on? What am I looking at?"


    "These are alchemical components." Barbara explained. "You see P- this guy is the alchemist''s apprentice, so he can steal from the supply room and sell it to the guild."


    "These are the potions I can make for the guild," Lucky added, "Barbara. You told me you could make me an associate, but then you disappeared."


    "If you''re going to be anonymous I''m going to be anonymous," she said, "call me Patron Lady."


    "Too late," Scratch laughed, picking up one of the bottles, "you''re already Barbara."


    "You want to buy it?" Lucky asked.


    "Tell me what it is first."


    "It''s mana toxin, disrupts magical abilities. The stronger your opponent the better it works, you can just throw it."


    "Meh... cheap?"


    "Silver piece. But it''s cheap for what you get."


    Scratch put it down again. "Tell me about the others."


    "Yeah... sleeping draught, metal rot, those are for breaking in or out of places. And this stuff is bitter crimson, since there''s a lot of former bandits in Eston."


    The group nodded.


    "... You''re not going to qualify that last bit at all are ya?" Scratch asked.


    "Bitter crimson is a bad medicine," Barbara explained, "bandits in dangerous zones use it to keep fighting even near death. But once you start taking it you can''t stop."


    "It''s addictive?"


    "It''s just that your body becomes dependent on it."


    He put some of his fingers and rubbed them together, it had a strong rancid smell.


    "This is some kind of amphetamine at least... you making speed?"


    Lucky Winner shook his head, "it won''t make you any faster, but it grants a bit of energy and numbs the pain."


    Scratch nodded. "But not just anybody can make this."


    "No, it''s not just the pla- the ingredients, you need to know alchemical tools as well."


    "I think you''re using safrole to make the solvent, isn''t that right?"


    The seller was taken aback. "H-how do you know that?"


    "Listen here," the goblin cleaned his hands, "you can dilute this stuff, it doesn''t need to be industrial strength. Dress it up nice, make it smell and taste good, and you get yourself mass market appeal."


    "Mass mark- aren''t you here to buy potions?"


    Scratch shook his head. "Not at all, we''re here to buy you. Captain would you please move your foot from our chest?"


    -


    With the opening of the gold chest the identity of the third shipmate was revealed.


    Inside was a stretched tenebrous shadow, the end of its darkness extending outwards into curved daggers at the edges of the lid.


    "A mimic!" The captain said.


    "I did say she would bite." Scratch quipped.


    "That''s... gold!" Lucky Winner gasped.


    "Ay," the captain answered, "70 gold pieces or thereabouts, judging by the weight. It''s why I said I was so tempted."


    "What a useless party trick," Barbara inhaled through her nose, "and it''s 87 gold pieces."


    "I do think some ''o these have some of the edges scraped," he insisted, "my sense of gold never lies."


    "This is what''s called seed capital," Scratch claimed. "It''s why we call you Lucky Winner."


    "I... I could never pay this back." The young man in the green cloak was clearly tempted, he hadn''t begun dealing with the thieves'' guild purely for the excitement, he needed money.


    "Don''t worry, we''ll make sure that you can." The goblin said.


    "I... I don''t understand."


    "My friend..." he took him by the hand and to the starboard side, where Eston was visible, "you and I are going to be building a business empire.


    Forget about pilfering dried twigs from your master''s closet, we''ve got supply routes. Tell me the ingredients you need. In... let''s say two months... some very good friends of mine will be there to deliver. I want you to use this money to pay them."


    "Okay...? Why don''t you pay them?"


    Scratch breathed out, a bit exasperated. "This isn''t going to be a one-time thing. Listen to me, do you have any friends your age...? "


    Scratch continued outlining the drug trade to the hapless young criminal as Barbara and the captain stood off by the side.


    "Might be too young for a job like this..." the seaman mumbled.


    "The boy or the goblin?" Barbara asked.


    "Not the goblin, of course not."


    -


    On their way back the wind had gone down and Barbara had to row.


    "You could have just.. hahah," she panted, "said that you wanted to be a loan shark."


    "Big difference between a loan and an investment," Scratch said, enjoying his lack of physical exertion, "big difference."


    "Oh yeah? What?"


    "Equity dividends grow alongside the enterprise, that small seed is going to bear fruit one day."


    She stopped for a bit to rest. "You really think the little underground potion shop is going to get big?"


    "He''s got everything going for him. Connections, no competition, starter capital. It just comes down to his character."


    She picked the oars back up again. "If it was me I''d have taken the money and skipped town."


    He pressed his lips together and looked at her.


    Just his eyes made her feel slightly ashamed and she avoided them to continue rowing.


    "I wasn''t even sure the captain would let him leave with all that in his pocket." She said.


    "He knows a repeat gig when he sees one."


    "Nay, the Roving Mare sets sail next week, at the start of spring. They''ll be gone for ten months."


    "Spring starts next week?"


    "Yes," she panted, "that''s also when the culling is called again."


    <hr>


    Bitter Crimson


    An illegal item carried by thieves and bandits in Reddington. It can be recognized by a transparent colour with red flakes and a powerful smell of cat piss.


    Although adventurers have the rights to the possessions of outlaws when they are slain, they are obligated to destroy Bitter Crimson where it is found and can not carry it into town.


    Drinking Bitter Crimson stimulates the imbiber, allowing them to ignore pain and fatigue and inducing a sense of euphoria. However, using the substances alters the body to become dependent on it, so that long periods without it cause listlessness and irritability.


    Dependence on Bitter Crimson requires a Greater Miracle to be cured. A feat usually only achieved by arch-bishops and saints.

 Dark Dealings

    Nominally, members of the adventurer''s guild, no matter how senior, were simply civilians. Outside of those born or married into nobility, they were outranked by the knighthood.


    Yet the guildmaster resented being summoned to the captain''s office like a common day worker.


    He had no doubt that between the two of them his accomplishments were greater.


    Captain Harkness had never conquered a dungeon or slain a dragon, he had never dueled with dark elves on thin wires over the gaping abyss.


    Guildmaster Linel had done all of these things, and earned the rank of B in the Adventurer Guild''s ranking system. Legally, he would be able to marry a count or countess, and he considered himself their equal.


    But the very day he had arrived in Eston to take up the vacant guild position, the lower aristocracy insisted on pushing around its weight.


    "Have you seen this?" Captain Harkness said curtly from behind his desk, not bothering with greetings or formality.


    Linel sighed audibly, clearly demonstrating his reluctance to be interviewed. "These are portraits exchanged among goblin tribes in the warrens.


    Our members have retrieved countless of them in lieu of actual gold. As far as I can tell, they''re useless."


    Harkness narrowed his eyes. "So it''s adventurers bringing this trash into the city."


    "Wait just one minute, what are you implying?"


    The knight captain harrumphed and put away the paper at the corner of his desk. "We just arrested a third extortion ring. Each until now has had stacks of these lying around. The adventurers'' guild is obviously implicated."


    The guildmaster was grinding his teeth audibly. "You''re throwing around accusations based on such loose connections? Rather auda-"


    "I''m not jus-"


    "RATHER AUDACIOUS for the man whose very own daughter is visible smack dab in the middle of the very thing!" With a dramatic sweep he snatched the highest priced bill from the middle of the pile and held it up between the two of them.


    There, indeed, amateurishly depicted but fully recognizable in the weave, was Lydia Harkness. The pruned leaf of the Harkness family tree. She stared at her father expressionlessly.


    He smacked the item out of the man''s hand, onto the desk, a scorching smell erupted as it burst into flames under his fist.


    Even Linel was a bit shocked by the sudden aggression.


    The captain was so angry that his words became stifled in the front of his mouth. "We are here to ERADICATE them. This is your official order not to get in our way."


    The exchange had been exactly hostile enough for Linel to become obstructive. "In your way or not, the culling is a national event. This branch will not be making an exception on guild policy, especially in light of your *embarrasing* defeat at the hands of rank F monsters last summer."


    Harkness leaned back. "I heard about this ''culling''. A scheme to attract new members by all accounts." He looked him dead in the eye. "Except by your own books, three out of every ten experienced adventurers invading the warrens were killed last winter. And that''s disregarding the amount that were captured but escaped. Hah. If a knight commander were to get such shoddy results he''d be courtmartialed!"


    Incensed his opponent let his own fire magic flare, blue fire erupted from his mouth as he spoke. "How did you get your hands on- At least adventurers are their own men! They aren''t marched into death by some spoon fed... pompous... half-baked warrior born into power!"


    The captain wasn''t at the least intimidated. "So you don''t deny it."


    "You''ll see." Linel said, suddenly much calmer, "come to the opening the day after tomorrow, then you''ll see. This years'' culling will be something special, I was appointed to make sure of that."


    Then he left, not waiting for the nobleman to dismiss him, and flaring his cape stylishly.


    "One way or another, order will return to this region."


    <hr>


    "Order. order." Scratch banged his hammer on the lectern like it was a gavel. "What seems to be the problem?"


    This was not the first time the goblins had organized an impromptu court of justice. This time the place of ceremony was a muddy crossroads between the favored colonies.


    The makeshift courtroom consisted out of hastily scraped together furniture, re-purposed as benches and podiums, and a leaky tarp to protect them from the rain, which had been strung up to the tree branches.


    "Runaways your honor," Linus addressed him formally, he was by now familiar with his brother''s rules of ceremony. "They''re the brood of... Edith. They used to live in the mill, that''s why."


    Scratch moved his hand to bid him to continue, but when that was not picked up on he had to emphasize it verbally. "That''s why what?"


    "Huh? Oh! You gave the mill to Jolene but they wanted to go back."


    Youthere stood next to Scratch to whisper in his ear. "A dangerous thing master, such small acts of disobedience. From a small seed grows the tall vine of rebellion! You must not forget that your power in the promise is build on your power over the colonies. The woman will not be so patient with you if you do not serve your purpose in maintaining order."


    He leaned a bit away from the demon, who had moved in uncomfortably close. "Who is here to speak for Edith''s brood?"


    Second solemnly lifted his arm and stepped onto the overturned box, using his other hand to push away the group''s own oldest brother.


    "Second!" Scratch grinned mockingly, "I was wondering why you''d appeared. How did you hear about our little circus anyway?"


    "Nobody here ever says- Everybody here always says what you want them to." Second declared, "so you can do what you want."


    "That is generally the idea, yes." Scratch conceded.


    Second puffed out his chest. "Well I have my own things to say."


    "I look forward to it." Scratch banged his gavel a few times for no particular reason. "Prosecutor, you have the floor."


    Linus shot Second a glance and got a scornful one in return, he then cleared his throat and recited the sum of their felonies.


    "The destruction of five pots of flour, theft of twelve breads and half a lamb, murder of two dogs, threatening of a mother and writing on the side of a wall."


    "Punishment?"


    "Uhm..." Linus looked over at Benjamin who was supposed to help him but was fast asleep.


    "Ben would have told you the requested sentence is exile." Scratch told him.


    Then the demon leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Master, in your mercy you forget yourself. Exile is no punishment at all. They are vagrants and you will make vagrants of them, with no consequences for their deeds they will simply repeat them. The sentence must be death."


    "Although... death may be more appropriate." Scratch declared, pushing the demon outside of his person space.


    Second suspiciously eyed the two and then began to speak. "I think-"


    "Ho ho ho!" Scratch stopped him, banging his gavel, "this is a courtroom. You do not speak until I give you permission."


    "Okay...."


    It was silent for all of two seconds.


    "Okay I give you permission."


    "I think you never cared what Max and his brothers did..." Second waiting to see if he would be interrupted again, then he continued, "before they destroyed something. You took away everything they had. We could have helped them, but instead you waited until they did something desperate and now you want to destroy them. What would you have done if someone did that to you? What would I have done? You wouldn''t kill either of us over that."


    Scratch leaned forward, "do you expect me to treat everybody the same no matter who they are to me?"


    "No, but... Scratch... we have shown mercy to goblins without a home before," Second argued, "Scream and Laugh and Digger, they made our well for us, and now we have wells in every goblin home. Can''t Max and Moritz and all the others... just be our family too?"


    Youthere whispered in his ear again. "Master I do reiterate-"


    "Shush." The patriarch bade him to be silent and let Second speak.


    "Scratch..." Second pleaded, "Why are you killing goblins? I thought we were the ones that didn''t kill. But you''re nicer to the humans that have come to destroy us than to them." He gestured towards the accused and left up in the air whether the ''humans that have come to destroy us'' referred only to the adventurers specifically.


    Scratch rested his chin into his hands. "Do you really enjoy living in the Promise, Second?"


    "W-what?" Second was taking aback, interpreting it as a threat at first.


    "It''s just that... I''ve send everybody else out over the forest as ambassadors, but you''re stuck in the pits carving nightlights for dogs. Do you enjoy it?"


    "I... can''t leave Quiet alone." He responded.


    Scratch nodded. Quiet may have been the older of the two, he was a demure creature and easily intimidated by the much larger hobgoblins that lived at the Promise.


    "Tell you what. We''re about to put a mini fortress at the edge of the fairy circle. How about you and Quiet, keep it clean and hold watch there."


    "What about Max and-"


    "Max and Moritz will be there too, that''s the idea. Any problem elements in the outer colonies, you two take care of it, yeah? Take them in, feed them, clothe them, whatever. Proof to me that you can prevent this sort of thing."


    "Yes!" Second beamed.


    "Amazing!" Max, the leader of the accused praised his defender, "I was gonna blame everything on Moritz."


    "If Edith was here she''d get really mad." Linus commented. "She really wanted justice for those dogs."


    "That''s why she isn''t here." Scratch stated. "I have no intention of creating another temple to petty score settling."


    He sighed and wondered when he had taken up such a workload managing the daily lives of everybody in the forest.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    It was Youthere''s fault, he decided. Lydia had expressed strong opinions on his responsibility as their defacto ruler before, but she would generally defer to his judgment when it came to goblin affairs. It was the demon''s sultry voice that had convinced him a more hands-on approach was needed to prevent future rebellions.


    "Well that''s it for today. I''m going home." He threw the hammer over his shoulder for somebody else to pick up.


    If the goblin extermination campaign in a few days was really going to be that much harsher than last year''s then he was wasting his time. He might as well come back after the decimation and try to lead whoever was left, instead of wasting his energy on the doomed.


    <hr>


    It wouldn''t be until the next day that Scratch felt like actually doing some work again.


    Even then it just involved sitting in while Lacrima explained curses to his children.


    "A curse is a self-propogating spell." She began to explain, displaying three examples onto her desk.


    The hobgoblins were huddled around it and he could just barely catch a glimpse between their backs from where he was sitting, aloof and smoking his blue grass cigar. On the desk were a knife, a chain, and an intricate silver necklace.


    "Be still don''t touch them." The witch complained. She did not have the patience to work with children. Her supposed orphanage had been propped up entirely using mind control.


    Self-propogating is a big word. Cyclophan commented. They''re alive, living magic. That''s why they''re a favorite tool of evil gods. Once created, they can spread to outside the confines of a dungeon.


    "Take a look," the witch released a cloud of lime green dust above the objects. "This is what a witch sees when presented with a cursed object."


    As the vibrant green floated down it began to illuminate thin lines of moving circles and runes about the static objects.


    "Well? They look quite different, don''t they?" She stated.


    The children were simply agape by the light show.


    "Again, again!" Trevor cheered.


    "No. Not again. You saw the difference didn''t you?" She spat. "Between the chain and the knife?"


    "Uhm... the chain had more circles?" Will tried.


    She looked at Scratch in annoyance but he threw up his hands. A decent portion of the hobgoblins would probably have tried to describe how the physical objects themselves differed, so this was one of the better results for her.


    "It''s not about the number of circles, or runes. Look closely." She threw another puff of the dust to Trevor''s clapping and revealed the magic again.


    The curse straddling the chain was messy and organic, it clung to the metal like a mold. While the knive''s magic straddled it symmetrically, it looked like clockwork and part of its design.


    "I guess... the knive''s more beautiful?" Felix half-asked.


    "Good enough. It is indeed. That''s because it''s a proper curse."


    Uh-huh, I see where this is going. Cyclophan groaned.


    "There''s a proper way to do a curse?" Felix asked, reaching for the knife.


    She slapped him away. "There''s a proper way for all magic. Dark sorcery is a mockery of the true magic. It''s invented by pretenders that think they can equal the work of the gods, but the result is *always* inferior, and only rarely corresponds to any particular magical affinity."


    Now my position as a real god is called into question, the voice complained, my magic may not be as neat as those of the twelve, but it''s still divine. Not dark sorcery.


    I should put you two into direct contact, Scratch quipped inside his head, let you fight it out.


    "Uhm... so it''s only magic if the gods do it?" Constantine asked sceptically.


    "Of course not, we cast it ourselves, but the spells we use were *designed* by the gods."


    "But who''s doing the magic?" Ada asked, more confused than ever.


    "I don''t think they''re familiar with intellectual property, Lacrima." Scratch laughed.


    The witch groaned in annoyance. "You can heat metal, can''t you?" She asked Ada.


    "Yes?" He mother had taught her.


    "What''s it called when you do that?"


    "Rhada''s touch...?"


    "Rhada is the goddess of fire, you''re-"


    "Whoa! Rhada is a person?"


    Losing ever more patience Lacrima leaned to talk over the hobgoblins. "Rhada is the personification of fire, the mnemonic for casting the spell has her name in it because she *is* in the spell, as she is everywhere where there''s fire."


    "What''s a memmonick?" Someone asked.


    "Let''s stay on track." Scratch suggested, to the relief of the teacher.


    "Thank you, Papa Scratch." It was the first time she used his unofficial title. "The curse of binding on the chain is weak. It needs more mana and it dies more easily. But the curse of weakness on this knife comes from Guth, goddess of magic, it is exquisite. Hold out your hand." She gestured towards Felix, but he did not comply. "Come on, hold it."


    "Yeah, Felix, what are you, scared?" Ada egged him on.


    He hesitantly held out his non-preferred hand and the witch quickly grabbed it, pricking the tip of his finger with the sharp object.


    "Ow! Hey!" He protested, but couldn''t pull his arm from the frail old woman''s grip. "Hey..." He repeated weakly as a greyness spread across his orange skin and towards his elbow. He dropped to his knees as she let go of him.


    The hobgoblins all stepped back and Scratch stood up in alarm.


    He''ll be fine, it''s a low level spell.


    Before one of his brothers had even had the chance to attempt a healing spell on the discolored skin the effect dissipated.


    Felix didn''t get up, he was still clutching the affected arm in a panic.


    "If you''ll be fighting for me I want you to be able to reproduce this magic," Lacrima explained, "the mana requirement should be manageable for a hobgoblin."


    "What did you do?" Felix asked.


    "With your skin cut open the curse was able to send its magic into your body, the effect would have been the same if I had pressed the side to an existing wound." She pouted her lips. "It seems that humans and subhumans are affected the same. I would have predicted the magic having a more permanent effect without the gods'' blessing."


    "It could have been permanent!?" Felix yelled out in distress.


    Ada laughed at him. "What are you? Scared?"


    "Then there''s the last item. I have no hope that you would be able to recreate something like this, but I must drive home the superiority of Guth''s magic. Perhaps the lady isn''t too scared to try on this pretty necklace."


    "No... wait, no!" Ada fought back as Felix and Piers grabbed her from either side and held her in place for the witch to put on the cursed necklace.


    "Noooo..." Her voice grew weaker as the curse invaded her lungs and she grew deathly pale.


    "The same thing...?" Felix asked.


    "Three curses revealed to us by the goddess of magic inflict weakness upon the target," Lacrima explained as Ada collapsed onto the floor. "But only the bloodpoison curse limits itself to that one effect," she waved her knife to show what she referred to with ''bloodpoison''. "The jewel of pain curse disturbs mana regeneration, prevents healing, and-"


    She said it just as the brothers attempted to remove the item.


    "-it can''t just be removed either."


    And this is not considered dark sorcery? Scratch wondered.


    Did you think only mortals could conceive of torture?


    No but- "Lacrima, you had better not have killed my daughter." He said sternly.


    She threw up her hands as a sign of innocence and then bended over to grab the necklace at the front. It unclasped immediately.


    "Except, of course, if you are the witch that created the curse."


    Ada spat slime from her lungs. "I''m not cut anywhere," she protested.


    The witch shrugged, "it''s a more powerful curse."


    "It''d be convenient to have some more powerful throwing weapons using this." Scratch mentioned.


    "If you''d have me slaving away making you super weapons I''d have to charge money."


    The jewel of pain is designed for jewels, magic circulated by the gods often has a narrow range of applications. That''s why dark sorcery exists in the first place.


    What? Is there some arbitrary reason the spell doesn''t work if it''s on a lasso?


    No. But it has to touch the skin almost directly. A coat or armor deflects it. If I had a darkspawn or a high level demon as champion he could probably create an altered version that has a wider range of effect, for a bigger mana cost.


    Well you don''t. And you''d stop complaining about having me.


    Tch.


    "Are we going to be here long?" Constantine asked, "I''d promised Second I''d get him a sled."


    "We''ll be here until you can all do the bloodpoison curse," Scratch insisted.


    "Until one of you can." Lacrima corrected him. "Then you can teach each other. My time is valuable you know."


    They were there for five hours until Trevor was the first to master it.


    The practice weapons were goose feathers, and the practice target was a very unfortunate young swine.


    By the end they had enough cursed feathers to fill a very ominous sleeping pillow.


    <hr>


    Where the forest met the river, at the edge of the goblins'' territory and facing that of the fairies, stood the makings of a new colony.


    Five holly oaks had been cut down and shipped off to a lumber mill not too far away and most of their stumps had been dug out. To make room


    The gravel path connecting the lumber mill and the route to the central crossroads had been branched off to allow for easier supply of building materials.


    None of these things were explicitly ordered by the Promise.


    As soon as the plans for the location had been made clear, work on it simply materialized.


    The brood mothers of the outer regions were attempting to buy back some favor by sending over children to help out the efforts.


    At Second''s request, Constantine had spanned together a dog sled to bring him to the location.


    "You''re gonna live here?" He asked.


    "Hhm." Second confirmed.


    The two rarely spoke and there wasn''t much rapport between them.


    "There''s nothing here!"


    "There will be. We''re going to build it."


    "Good. Good." Youthere wrung his hands.


    Without the explicit injunction of anybody back home he had given himself permission to hop on board the sled an come see the premises for himself.


    "This will be an instrument of control," the demon smirked inhumanly broad. "I shall prove to my master that we can do more than control the wealth of these borderlands. If my voice can reach their ear, we can control their minds."


    As he spoke his ambition he gestured upwards, envisioning an imposing tower with propaganda clad all over.


    Second got angry. "No way. This will be a home for lost goblins. We''re gonna make our own food and clothes and there''s gonna be no humans here." He gestured wide, envisioning a circle of small huts around a central field for children to play.


    Constantine was picking his nose. "Papa said it''s not gonna be just goblins though. We''re gonna keep watch, and Lacrima''s helper will be there."


    "Myself as well." Youthere added, "taking an interest in the neighbours."


    "Yeah?" Constantine wondered.


    "Why?" Second wanted to know.


    But he just laughed.


    -


    They walked around the perimeter until they could see over the river into the opposing wood.


    "The old goblins told us to never to go there," Constantine said, "because the monsters are too strong. Piers went in and a flower guy ate his fingers." He mimed Piers getting the pinky and upper half of his ring finger chomped using his right hand to be the mouth. "We haven''t told Mama and Papa yet."


    "Don''t do that again." Second said.


    "I know." Constantine responded a bit aggrieved. The lesson had been driven home, it didn''t need repeating.


    Second looked at him and then past him. "...Will we be able to take the dog sled back?"


    At the place where they''d arrived the warg wolves had freed themselves from the harness and were chasing woodland critters and each other.


    "Ah! Hey!" Constantine ran back to get them back in line.


    The transportation only worked with the consent of the animals and most of them didn''t have the patience to listen to human speech, he had to retrieve the barking horn to imitate their way of speaking.


    As they watched Constantine get smaller Second and Youthere were alone together for the very first time since the demon had been summoned. As soon as he realized that Second attacked him.


    He used both his hands to push against his chest. Just to cow him a bit.


    However, the smile under Youthere''s unseen eyes grew only into a wider grin. "Touchy touchy." He took the goblin''s hands and caressed them sensually.


    This made Second uncomfortable and he pulled them back. "Why does Scratch trust you more than me?"


    Youthere moved in and put his hands around Second''s waist. "Why indeed, does a simple incubus like myself have to offer? Want to find out?"


    Second wriggled out of his embrace. He, who had approached him that aggressively, was now keeping his distance.


    Youthere laughed. "I have seduced many to the path of evil and your brother is nothing new to me. They''re one of the easier kinds of man, men like him."


    Second pondered the words, he had not much experience with what kinds of people there were. To him everybody was either strong or weak and family or not family. Youthere was not family.


    "Scratch is easy?" He asked, trying to goad more information out of the enemy.


    "All men chase after their pride. Their pride and shame is derived from how closely they match the Hero they aspire to be. All men have heroes whether they know it or not. You do too."


    Second turned his back to him.


    "Do not deny it little goblin. Other subhumans worship the strength of their largest tribe member, they can not equal his strength in their lifetime, but reality is no object to dreams. You, however, do not aspire to strength. You have shown me as much."


    Second began to walk away from him, back towards Constantine and the sled. "Do not talk to me anymore."


    Youthere followed at a matched pace. "I know who you want to be. You want to be the one that creates, not destroys, the one that earns respect by helping his community. You want to be Scratch!"


    "Not anymore!" Second abruptly stopped and turned around to stop him. But he moved right into his personal space again and grabbed his face with both hands.


    "Yes, still!"


    Second fell over and Youthere landed on top of him.


    "The Hero you carry with you is the version of him you saw back then. But I know his real face."


    "Argh, get off me." Second struggled against the demon''s surprising strength as tears began to form in his eyes.


    "Can you guess who Scratch''s hero is?" The demon laughed. "Who do you think his hero would work with? His whiny little brother that sticks around just because they''re family?" He pronounced that last word quasi pathetically in mockery of Second. "Or the ancient demon that promises him great power?"


    Second punched him right onto his temple.


    Dazed, the demon stumbled off him.


    Not wasting this opportunity Second grabbed his throat and began to strangle him.


    Youthere regain his composure with the goblin''s hands still around his neck, and began to speak through it in a painful rasping voice. "A man like Scratch does not expect loyalty, he will work with any backstabber or crook. My master is a schemer that will make use of any temporarily aligned agenda."


    He giggled girlishly.


    Scratch trusts me because he thinks he knows what I *want*. As long as I am predictable to him he thinks he can control me. You, my friend, are quite the opposite. We would call it mercurial. Look at this, you''re trying to kill me. Over what?"


    Second let go of him. "What do you want?"


    "The woman."


    "But what do you really want?"


    Youthere wet his lips. "I want Scratch to become the next demon king."


    <hr>


    Arcane Dust


    Class: Mage


    Value: 2 copper


    A magical dust derived from mana sensitive plants. Due to its magical properties it emits light when coming into contact with magic and it is a vital component in the creation of spellpaper. By sprinkling arcane dust over looted items or dungeon floors adventurers can reveal hidden curses or magical traps. Arcane dust retrieved from bandits or spellcasting monsters can not be sold to guild affiliated shops due to possible contamination. However, these items are not illegal for a mage adventurer to keep and use.

 Make War

    Although it was the middle of the day, the woodland canopy cast a chilling shadow on the adventurers invading the goblin warrens.


    There were three of them, one in a green cloak that protected against the frost, one in two layers of regular cloth, and one shivering in bare skin and silk.


    "I''m supposed to be the ranger." The cloaked adventurer complained, "why do we need a crummy guild sherpa anyway? Aren''t goblins, like, threat level F or something?"


    "Cause adventurers keep dying here," his friend spoke up. "The goblin warrens is full of traps. It''s like a special boss zone."


    "W-w-we''re almost rank D," the third member protested, teeth clattering from the cold, "We s-s-shouldn''t need a b-babysitter."


    "We wouldn''t even be allowed in here before rank D without a guide. I can''t believe you two are complaining about meeting an ancient being that''s witnessed the rise and fall of empires." The second pouted, waving his staff about.


    "He didn''t see nothing," the ranger responded, "they''ve all been hiding in their secret villages for the last two hundred years."


    Ten paces in front of them two long pointed ears twitched. "I can heareth thee."


    "Sorry Manswyr," the ranger threw up one hand with reluctant diplomacy, "didn''t mean nothing by it."


    "Thou shallt beest s''rry if thou falls to the greedy hands of the goblin king."


    "Excuse me?" They all stifled a laugh, "I shall beast what now?"


    The elf looked back and forth between the three of them. "Wherefore is this one not prop''rly cloth''d?"


    "Good question. Well? The elf called you out?"


    "I''m a m-m-martial artist," the under dressed adventurer explained, "I''ve got t-t-to be able to m-m-move. I''ll warm up while fighting."


    "Maketh sure that thou dost. For we''ve arriv''d at the den of evil."


    As the elf said that they became alert to the two dozen or so child-sized enemies sizing them up behind several rows of trees. They were nearly half a mile away but very noticeable in their tight formation.


    "Readieth thy weapons. ''Tis a fight til death."


    "F-finally! I feel warmer already." The martial artist beamed.


    "Don''t rush in yet, I''m the mage, let me use some crowd control first." The adventurer with the staff demanded.


    The ranger wasn''t silent either. "At least I can still show off my marksmanship."


    Before either of them did anything the elf readied his own bow. It looked like a living plant with bark and leafy sprouts and when he pulled it back it resonated with harmonious creaking. "Enchanted Bow Arts." He shouted, "Breath of Geros!"


    The arrow flying loose from the bow crackled with green energy. The distance between them and their enemies was supposed to be double the range a longbow could fire accurately at, but the projectile let itself be carried by a splendorous beam of light until it hit its target directly in the throat for an assured kill.


    As quick as a bird the elf nokked and fired three more arrows in succession. Each killing a goblin instantly.


    The three adventurers stood gawking at the sudden display of killing power.


    "Well?" The elf gestured at the remaining goblins, who had scattered and become disorganized.


    "Are we just here to be his cleanup crew?" The mage complained.


    0000


    "What? Gone?"


    "There was nothing there, nada."


    The goblin patriarch opened one eye. "In a spontaneous act of sublimation, they''ve evaporated into thin air?"


    "What? No." Gildo sputtered. "Their bodies are there. But they''re dead."


    "I see, so that''s the context." Scratch sighed, unfolding himself from the lotus position.


    "The context of us being at war?" The bandit asked. "Yeah, I should think so. What are you lot doing about all this anyway?"


    On a long bare slab of slate Scratch, Quiet, Biter, George, Linus, and Benjamin had been meditating. He had summoned every living member of his direct family back to the Promise in order to wait out the ransacking of the colonies.


    At first it had seemed the region had been passed over for the culling completely, even days after the official start of the culling no parties had been seen attacking the forest. But now the caution  proved justified, a whole tribe had been suddenly and surgically snuffed out, before its neighbours even realized there was a fight.


    "What we''re doing is staying put." The goblin patriarch explained.


    His brothers were opening their eyes and listening in on the conversation now.


    "The colonies should be more than enough for the city''s paid hooligans to break their teeth on. They''ll give ''em a workout I reckon, and that''ll satisfy them. As long as they get their trophies." He mimed cutting off his ear, referring to the proof of a kill the adventurers used to collect their bounty.


    "Then you''re just using them as a shield against the adventurers." Gildo said in dismay.


    "Always have. That''s why we have the colonies, it''s only Lydia that came up with the whole noblesse oblige idea. I don''t know why-"


    "The only question here is why she lets you do as you please!" The Grienician fell out. "Is this how you treat the women that-"


    As if summoned, Lydia Harkness appeared between them. They hadn''t seen her arrive, but this was typical for her movements.


    "The adventurers guild has recruited elves." She stated.


    "E-elves!?" Gildo''s voice cracked.


    "Yes. I received a dove just now. Each serious party is paired up with an elven guide."


    Scratch looked back and forth between the two of them. "So are these the bow shooting kind or the toy making kind? Because I don''t want to assume the wrong genre again."


    Gildo got a little angry, "what do you mean when you say things like that? Do you even understand yourself?"


    "Scratch," Harkness kneeled in front of him and put her hands in his, "please let me take the kids and do something."


    If it had been before his disappearance she would have simply overruled him, but the revolution had humbled her.


    "The outer colonies may be the disfavored ones. But they''re still my people."


    He was already half poised to give in to her, just from the deference in the request, but he still had his agenda. "I can''t have you risk your lives for them, you know each of you is worth a thousand of them, come on."


    "Yes. However." She searched her mind for an argument. "We will not be truly safe if we keep locked away."


    "Oh no?"


    "The guild is set on eradicating us. Destroying our outer colonies is likely just the first blow in a larger strategy. They won''t give us time to regrow them before the next."


    "I guess... we can''t just let them do whatever they want, huh?" Scratch pondered.


    "Yeah!" Linus chimed in, "the dogs know where they are. The dogs can find them."


    "That''s an idea," Scratch agreed, "we''ll ask a few windwolves to sniff around. If any come to you, you can take a sled... Promise me you''ll run if it gets even a slightly bit hairy."


    "I promise." And she had disappeared.


    "Windwolves?" Gildo asked.


    Scratch didn''t even smirk at him. "Wow you''re out of the loop." Then he looked around. "Where''s Second?"


    <hr>


    "Hither to, none of the accursed hobgoblins have shown their monstrous faces, ''tis a pity, our search yet continues." The elf stated as he withdrew a bloody knife from the broodmother''s throat.


    "Hey, what''s that all about? Why did you kill the poor captive?" The martial artist sputtered.


    "She''s not a captive," the ranger said, "the warrens is controlled by bandits. They use their bodies to create goblins as minions."


    "That''s disgusting."


    "It is what it is."


    The elf looked at the both of them. "Many things in the world of man are disgusting, we hast not joined this effort merely to confound disgusting things. ''Tis the genus of hobgoblins that I am here to eradicate. Therefore we might not but press on."


    "Not a chance bozo," the mage came in, blocking the exit to the goblin nest, "our bonus is per nest, not per hobgoblin. We''re supposed to hold this territory and make it a camp for the guild. Besides, it''s gonna take all day getting the ears of all these fodder minions."


    "Ye will not follow me onwards?"


    "What do you need us for anyway?" The martial artist wondered, he was starting to cool down again. "L-looks to me like you could take


    Harkness down on your own."


    "Hmpf," the elf leaned back against the wall.


    "Does anybody have a dove we can send back?" The mage asked, "to tell them we have one."


    "You''re the mage, you''re supposed to carry the pigeon."


    "Why? Tell me why the mage carries a pigeon. To pull it out of my sleeve?"


    "No, cause if we carried it it''d get smashed. While we''re fighting?"


    "Hey, I move around."


    "That-"


    "Enow of this." The elf pushed the mage out of the way to leave the cramped space. "I shall calleth upon my connection to the f''rest to sendeth this inf''rmation to thine master."


    As he spoke a brightly colored starling landed on his hand. The elf then kissed its head and saw it off.


    "No way that works." The mage said stunned as he saw the bird flutter off into the direction of the meeting point.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Catching wind of something out of the corner of his eye, the elf suddenly fired an arrow into the forest.


    But the windwolf that had been observing them was already gone.


    <hr>


    "Piers... what happened!" His mother was shocked to see one and a half finger missing from his hand.


    He gave her a half-truth. "It... was a cat."


    "A cat? What sort of cat could do this?"


    "He went into the fairy forest, it was a fairy cat." Felix tattled on him while spanning six warg wolves together.


    None of the windwolves had come back with report of an ongoing emergency, but Lydia had gotten two of her sons to prepare a sled anyway, so they would be able to respond quickly once one did.


    Felix with his favorite two-pronged halberd and a few bolases with the curse of binding on his belt.


    Piers handling and inspecting a human-made crossbow he had looted off an adventurer.


    It was the first time in days that she had gotten a proper look at Piers'' hands. She smacked him upside the head.


    "Hey! Ow!"


    "You should have told us." She insisted. "We could have done something. Do you understand? You can never get those fingers back."


    Piers was abashed. He had had the handicap for almost a week now, and he hadn''t considered how final and irreversible it was until his mother told him outright.


    "Can you still fight?"


    "Of course! Just fine."


    "Well good." She kissed his forehead. "Be careful with your body. You only have one."


    "I have everybody," Felix announced, "we can go."


    "The we''re prepared. If one of our people need us." She stated momentously.


    "Not yet though..." Felix noted.


    "Do we... have to wait here?" Piers asked. "Can I go the Barbara''s shop and get a gumdrop?"


    "We have to be ready. The call could come at any moment."


    "Or not at all!" He slumped against a tree in dramatic languor, distraught at the day wasted.


    "Well..." she started to relent, "maybe we can-"


    Mad barking interrupted them.


    The warg wolves in the saddle harness jumped to their feet and held in position as a young wind wolf carved through the air in front of them and came to a sudden halt, communicating loudly all the while.


    The humanoids jumped into their sled.


    "Can you give them a command?" Lydia asked.


    "Wow a command. No, I think Rover would get mad," Felix responded, Rover being the young wind wolf that had brought news of the attack.


    But piers brought the barking horn to his lips. The ugly wooden instrument that led him recreate the sounds of the canines.


    A pained yipping erupted from him, the warg wolves looked at him in annoyance before Felix took away the tool.


    The three of them had to wait patiently as Rover spoke to the wolves.


    He used a series of rough growls and sneers, pacing back and forth but stopping to face them when he wanted to emphasize the point.


    Eventually he stopped and yowled.


    The warg wolves responded with a synchronized bark and began to pull.


    "That was true." Piers nodded, as they began to move.


    "Now I know we can win." Felix grinned.


    Lydia looked from the wolves to Piers to Felix. "What."


    <hr>


    "Only beast mages can speak with animals."


    Although they were traveling at high speeds, an argument had broken out between mother and sons.


    "But you talk to them too!"


    "I talk to them. They don''t talk to me. I only hear barking sounds."


    "Yeah that''s-"


    An arcing beam of light flashed between the trees.


    An arrow found itself directly against the throat of Lydia Harkness.


    She had caught it with her hand, but the momentum had knocked her off of the sled.


    Felix shouted at the wolves to stop, and Piers had already jumped. The inertia knocked him to the ground.


    Another arrow lit up the shadowy undergrowth, soaring directly towards the fallen hobgoblin''s eye.


    Instead, it dug itself into his outstretched arm. "Ngaaah!" He cried.


    "Find cover." Lydia commanded, "it''s the elven archer!"


    There were beech trees and spruces around them. The beeches where thicker.


    "Where did that come from? I didn''t see anything." Felix sneered.


    The wolves were already undoing their harness with their teeth and scattering.


    Lydia didn''t answer at first, she looked over at Piers, who tore the arrow out of his arm and closed the wound with healing magic.


    He was fine.


    "The elves use enchanted bows." She explained. "A single shot can kill from miles off."


    "So we can''t even shoot back with our new arrows..." Felix slumped against the bark, "so they''re miles off?"


    Two more arrows pierced the cold air. One hit the bark next to his face, the other smacked into the podzol between them.


    "Not likely." She answered. "I''d need to get closer to know."


    "Do we go the round way?" Piers suggested. "Split his aim?"


    "Best to go in a straight line." She decided. "Quicker."


    Without coordinating between them, all three backed away from their cover simultaneously.


    "Now choose your next cover." Lydia told them, "once the next volley is over. You run there. I''ll say go."


    Three arrows hit the tree she was standing behind in a neat row.


    "Go!"


    The next volley followed quicker than the previous ones had.


    "Agh no!" Piers complained, almost getting hit where his back was exposed.


    The two hobgoblins had chosen the same tree and it was not wide enough for both of them.


    "Are you alright?" Their mother asked from above.


    She was standing on a sturdy branch.


    "Are they far away?" Felix said, with his mouth directly against Piers'' eye.


    "It might be some distance yet. Choose different covers next time."


    <hr>


    "Our foe wouldst already beest slain hadst thou hath killed this hound." The elf spat, nokking his so-manieth arrow.


    "Yeah? Well we wouldn''t have hadst to kill the wolf if you hadn''t shot at it!" The mage shot back.


    After the elf had attacked the wind wolf it had disappeared for a bit, then reappeared with a bad temper.


    Furthermore, it seemed to perfectly counter their strongest member''s preferred weapon. Once a projectile was in flight, its path was set, and a creature as fast as a wind wolf could easily dodge it.


    It flitted around nimbly, trying to isolate individuals to fight one-on-one.


    The more it flanked them and goaded them outwards, the more they stuck together.


    They were locked in a stalemate.


    The wolf couldn''t attack any one adventurer without exposing himself to the attacks of at least two others.


    The adventurers couldn''t chase and box in the wolf without breaking their formation.


    Then that stalemate was broken by the arrival of more enemies.


    Manswyr''s ear had twitched and he had started shooting into the forest.


    "Stop. Making. Monsters. Mad!" The mage had shrieked.


    "These art no beast o'' the earth. These art the hunters b''hind this hound. Hobgoblins. Get thee behind me and maketh sure my aim is not disturbed."


    So the elven archer focused on the wolf''s masters and the rest of the party did their utmost to prevent the wolf from throwing off his aim.


    He stopped.


    "Did you get them?" The martial artist asked, clutching a fresh wound.


    "I has''t lost sight o'' the third...." The elf''s eyes widened. "Falleth back, we might still make our retreat."


    "Now you want to flee?"


    "Oh no." The ranger spat. "He''s right, the area boss is here."


    As he said it, Manswyr had to dodge a throwing knife, preventing him from grabbing his next arrow.


    As he did, Felix burst forward from where he was. With explosive movement he swung his long halberd at group as a whole.


    It wasn''t directed at any vital organs, it was intended to force them apart, and it did.


    Mage and ranger jumped back, and the martial artist performed an artful dodge, gearing up for an immediate counter-attack.


    Piers was there with a crossbow to protect his brother, striking the warrior in the shoulder mid-kickflip.


    "Ah!" He fell to the ground.


    But the closeness of the projectile had made Felix jump aside and lose his balance.


    "Cut it out!"


    "At least I''m hitting someone!"


    More throwing knives shot out of the canopy, from a different angle this time.


    Lydia did her best keeping the elf''s fire on herself as she moved stealthily through the surrounding forest.


    He shot a few arrows back, but had time to assess the situation surrounding him.


    The ranger was attempting to ward off the wind wolf with his dagger, but the beast could easily dodge his wide movements and forced him in place by biting down on his upper arm.


    The mage had found new enemies, the group of warg wolves that had pulled the sled had moved around and were blocking the other exit of the cleared nest. He was using most of mana conjuring fire on the ground to keep them at bay.


    The martial artist wasn''t getting up.


    "Rise! Art thou a warrior, or nay?"


    "I c-can''t..."


    Piers chuckled, spanning his next bolt. "Curse of weakness."


    Indeed, a greyness was spreading outward from the wound over his skin.


    "Thee!" Manswyr reached for his quiver, but Felix lunged at him with the two-pronged halberd.


    Jab after jab into his personal area forced the elf to keep stepping backwards. He managed to keep the lancer between him and the crossbow, barely, he almost stumbled over one of the goblin corpses strewn about.


    Felix''s weapon denied him the use of his bow, so he unhooked a silver knife from his belt to knock it aside.


    More throwing knives.


    He couldn''t dodge everything, as soon as he stepped to the side, Piers'' cursed crossbow bolt hit him straight in the chest.


    It hadn''t gone between the ribs, but it didn''t have to, the arrowhead was spreading weakening magic into his blood. He fell to one knee.


    Lydia jumped and landed in the middle of the eradicated colony, directly on top of main building.


    "Will you surrender? And be spared your lives?" She bellowed.


    The adventurers didn''t respond, they didn''t think to. No creature faced by an adventuring party ever seriously negotiates.


    "Just our luck, immediately running into the brood knight. And now I''m running out of mana!" The mage yelled over his shoulder, unaware of how lost the fight was.


    "Drink. The. Posh-" The ranger chortled out the best he could, quickly losing his struggle with Rover, who was forcing him into the ground.


    The mage looked at his companion and quickly nodded, lowering his rod to dig into his satchel and retrieve a peculiar looking flask.


    The shape of the glass was ornate and impractical, signifying its value, and a blue light emanated from within.


    "A mana potion." He announced, looking directly at Lydia.


    Then he threw back his head and downed it in one extended gulp.


    The effect was immense and frightening, a shudder went through his body and his veins took on the otherworldly glow.


    The rod was dropped. Instead, magical energies emanated from his very hands and glowing runs appeared around them.


    "We will not die here." The mage growled unnaturally, "Rhada''s Storm!"


    As soon as he said the words a redness colored the air, fiery cinders rose up from the ground and the blood of the surrounding corpses began to dry at a rapid pace.


    There was a short moment of tension, then a pillar of flame, as tall as an oak, erupted in front of him. It rushed towards the hobgoblins with the force of a hurricane, tossing charred earth about.


    The wolves immediately turned tail and ran. Including Rover, who left behind the adventurer with a torn out throat.


    "No!" Lydia threw herself in its way with no real plan.


    "Rhada''s breath!" She blew a cone of flames through her thumb and index finger.


    Miraculously, it did slow down the attack, as the different magics began to fight over control of the same fire.


    "I''ve more where that came from!" The mage cackled. "This is for killing my friends!"


    He put his hands together for another spell, as a crossbow bolt flew through the pillar.


    The magical attack had obscured most of its flight path, so he could only barely dodge it. But as soon as he did, a bolas hit him, tying his arms against his body.


    The pillar of fire immediately dissipated.


    -


    "Phew!" Piers exhaled. Just being near the attack had singed his eyebrows.


    "Does this count as things getting hairy?" Felix asked.


    "Don''t tell your father." His mother laughed.


    The slain colony could be avenged now. Two of the attackers were paralyzed by cursed crossbow bolts, one was already dead, and one was tied up.


    "This beest thy vic''try, but not the endeth." The elf whispered.


    "What?" Felix turned around.


    They had stepped away from the elven archer to face the mage, outside their side he had fought through the weakness and lifted up his hand to close around the bolt.


    A weak tug was enough to remove it.


    And like that, all his strength was returned.


    "Give it up." Lydia threatened as he stood to face them.


    "Yeah! You lost, get over it!" Piers added.


    The elf pulled back his bow and they braced themselves, but instead of at them he fired into the air.


    "Enchanted bow arts: Geros'' daze!" He yelled, as the arrow exploded into a rain of spores.


    Lydia was unaffected. "A low mana spell. Are you-"


    Felix and Piers sunk to the ground, dizzy and disoriented.


    "No..."


    <hr>


    "I had to stay with the boys." She sighed, sipping her tea. "They were vulnerable. So the surviving enemies escaped."


    "Sorry mom." Piers said quietly.


    "It''s not your fault."


    They were in the manor, recuperating. Quiet had made tea with too much honey, but at least it was hot.


    "We''re lucky he didn''t get the chance to do that earlier." Scratch said astonishingly.


    "I should remember that this family is vulnerable to magic." Lydia stated.


    "Vulnerable? What? Why are we vulnerable?" Ada protested. "I can dodge a fireball better than Audace."


    "It''s not the damage. It''s the enchantment. Humans are protected by their gods'' blessings."


    "Oh yeah..." Felix noted, "you tried to get us blessed but it didn''t work. Stanford had to wave around a burning branch."


    "It wasn''t supposed to burn."


    "Wha- That''s-" Ada sputtered. "So if someone wants to make us fall down they just *can*. Just because we don''t have a stupid god''s blessing."


    "That sort of magic is rare. Everything about today was rare. An enchanted bow. A mana potion. I didn''t expect them to be this powerful."


    Scratch put down his tea. "That''s what happens when your profile increases, they dedicate more resources to getting you."


    "And you think we should stay out of harm''s way."


    "That was my plan, yes."


    She put down her own tea. "The guild is not treating this like a sports event anymore. They are taking in and defending territory. This is a war of extermination."


    "Great time for my war adviser to go missing..." he mulled.


    Neither of them said anything for a few seconds.


    "If it''s important to you, we can use the superweapon. Even the odds." Scratch offered.


    "Ritter''s superweapon."


    "Yeah! Can we?" Felix cheered.


    "We don''t know what his angle is yet." Lydia said.


    "The skeleton army was straightforward, it would lock us into eternal war." Scratch pondered. "But this thing... it doesn''t seem like it''d hurt our independence at least."


    "Maybe he just wants to help." Quiet suggested.


    That made Scratch laugh.


    Their peace was broken when Wendy burst through the window, barking loudly.


    "Then they can still be saved!" Jasper concluded. "If we get there quick."


    "Another colony under attack?" His mother asked.


    "That''s what she said."


    Lydia looked at Scratch.


    He nodded. "Bring more people this time."


    In less than three minutes they were on their way to the next battle.


    Special Event: Culling the Warrens


    Adventurers interested in participating in the culling or challenging the area boss can apply at the location marked on the map.


    During this event there will be no bounty awarded for individual goblin slaying. Make note: **there will be no money exchanged for goblin ears.**


    At the strategy camp, adventurers can apply for the following missions.


    Nest Clearing: Rank E and up


    Parties will follow an elven guide into the goblin warrens and clear out a nest of monsters. A reward of five gold pieces is handed out to any party that can secure the location of a goblin nest until the staff arrives.


    Base Building: Rank F and up


    Adventurers can earn up to 1 gold piece per day assisting the guild in erecting walled camps around former monster nests. Staff members will be there to recognize special efforts and hand out unique magic items as additional rewards. Food and drink will _not_ be provided.


    Base Defense: Rank F and up


    The warrens goblins must be prevented from reclaiming won territory. Adventurers can earn 1 gold piece per day defending walled camps against roving goblin war bands. Living quarters and food and drink _will_ be provided.

 Wipe-Out

    "It should have been a rank D mission from the start," Mildred sank into her chair, exhausted.


    As the adventurers'' guild magic instructor she wasn''t usually called upon to tend to the wounded, but today was an exception. The situation was


    so severe, healing magic ran out, and anyone available had to chip in holding bandage and salves.


    She had been at it all day. The threat level for clearing goblins nests in the goblin warrens had already been adjusted upwards, but they were still receiving the bloody results of the previous batch.


    "I was mistaken." Linel said harshly.


    It was his first initiative as the new guild master and it proved a spectacular failure. His tone of voice betrayed a desire to blame anyone but himself.


    "Your reports said the threat of the warrens came from the hobgoblin led militias and traps. An elven guide should have circumvented all danger."


    She threw up her hands, in no mood to argue.


    "Thee hath underestimated the powers of ruination." The elf that had come with the latest group of victims spoke up. She had kept to herself on the balustrade above, but when hobgoblins were mentioned she came alive. "Each attack has been intercepted by the Brood Knight. She does not patrol, she finds us, every time."


    "And she controls the hobgoblins, does she?" Linel asked.


    The elf nodded. "Thou hath promised us that we could rid our forest of these hobgoblins. For that, we must kill Harkness."


    "Then we are aligned." Linel grimaced.


    "Hold on," Mildred protested, "didn''t we agree that the goblin masters served a purpose reducing goblin aggression? I mean, Papa Scratch-"


    "Papa Scratch is one thing." Linel insisted. "Hobgoblins and Harkness are something else. The hidden village is in that forest, do you expect elves to suffer the presence of hobgoblins?"


    "Of course not but..." She didn''t know how far to push it. The thieves'' guild had an interest in maintaining the warren''s power, and she currently had to obey the thieves'' guild, but not at the cost of betraying her delicate position. And anyway, it''s not like she *liked* any of them.


    Linel interrupted her train of thought. "The trouble is: where will we get any?"


    "Huh? Any what?"


    "Rank D adventurers. If we''re no longer letting rank E''s do the clearing, where will we get our volunteers?"


    "Oh, uhm, the knights?"


    He gave her an annoyed look. If he let the army in on this, they''d take all the credit. In a time when the guild and the lower nobility were in an ever closer battle for recognition as the realm''s protectors, that was a bit like letting your enemy land a free blow. Still, it was not like he had many other options.


    "Any word on Laurus?" He asked the elf.


    "Thou will know before we," she sighed, "he goes where there is need of him."


    "It''s best to focus on the nests we did clear," Mildred suggested, "shore up the defense before she-"


    "If it''s necessary..." Linel smacked, "I''ll kill this ''Brood Knight'' myself. I know that I can find her if I go there myself to... what was it they called it?"


    Mildred massaged her temples. "Langley''s group said it''s called ''the Promise'', but we''ve evaluated them as untrustworthy."


    "I can go to this Promise myself and slay the Brood Knight. That would allow the culling to continue as planned, won''t it?"


    "By yourself?"


    He grinned. "Subhumans are naturally vulnerable to enchantment. I am a bard, I have an advantage."


    <hr>


    Underneath the promise, but above the forges, was the wolf den.


    The expansion of the underground had made it big enough to get lost in, but the sunstone lanterns had made it halfway pleasant.


    Even humans weren''t completely averse to spending their free time in the underground anymore. The light allowed for soft patches of moss to survive, and one could actually see further than a few paces when the wooden casings were folded open.


    It was greener than most of the immediate surroundings on the surface, which had been logged of trees and stamped into mud by constant traffic.


    Huddled together for warmth sat two windwolves, a pack of warg wolves, and the currently most notorious individuals in the region: Lydia


    Harkness, the Brood Knight, and Scratch, the Goblin Patriarch.


    She had her legs draped over a wolf and her back against another, which gave him the reach to comb her growing hair.


    "Have you looked into the weapon yet?" She asked, tracing her finger on a small parchment strip with a simplified map of the region.


    "I''ve been twisting Lacrima''s arm about it, she''s indulging me this afternoon."


    "She is conceited. She has lost most of her power as a Thieves'' Guild leader. And yet she pretends she''s too good for us."


    Scratch laughed, "look at it from her perspective. She all but enslaved us with her magic, but instead of just putting us to work she keeps having to do us favors."


    She moved her head, but he tugged at her hair to keep her in place for his bone comb.


    "She''s not... a danger is she?"


    He tutted. "Lacrima is a known factor. We know what she wants, we can negotiate with her."


    "... Unlike the Ravenous Lich." Lydia said.


    "Exactly. Would you like to twin tails?"


    She didn''t clue in to the joke nature of the suggestion, "no. A ponytail. I''''ll do it myself."


    He gave her the hair clip and she sat up straight to tie it.


    "So you will be here when we''re charging the edge?" She asked.


    "If the weapon is any good I can be with you in a minute, Wendy can sprint there like... well like the wind. Is it really necessary?"


    She nodded. "This isn''t a revenge mission. The none of the colonies will be safe with an adventurer base nearby."


    One of the wolves grunted. Scratch nodded in agreement. "Don''t you think Aimone and the guys should be part of this?"


    She hesitated, "I can''t ask that of them. They''re here to protect the bandit camp, not the goblins."


    "You can''t? Or...."


    "Most of the kids are on their level anyway. You''ve seen how much they''ve improved."


    He played with his eye patch. "Bree is occupied herding trolls. You mean Ada''s fire magic?"


    She turned to face him and grabbed his hands to be extra sincere. "Ada''s fire. Jasper and Constantine''s healing. They''re tremendous Scratch!


    I''ve never seen any warrior learn so quickly. I really believe they can be leaders. All of them."


    "Honey, that''s great, but-" he couldn''t very easily pull his hands out of her strong grip, "they *are* children. Okay? The other day I had to explain how a mirror works, I need you to be their better judgment."


    She was a bit taken aback. "Of course. I''m there to take command."


    "That''s not what I mean... Just," with his hands locked in place, his habit of speaking with gestures manifested as wiggling elbows, "every time you fight an elf and you almost die, you just heal up and then it''s like it wasn''t even close you know? But it was close. It just doesn''t register."


    "What are you saying?"


    "I don''t know. Just that the kids are knuckleheads, they don''t understand how close they get to dying if you don''t explain it to them. Me and them, we''re the same, we don''t feel fear the right way, and it''s dangerous. It makes us reckless."


    She nodded. "I understand. Elves are dangerous. But we''re not letting ourselves be caught off guard anymore. Have you seen these?"


    She showed him a bundle with various barbed stakes.


    "We call them Thistles. They all have a curse of weakness. And they can''t be easily removed. Once the enemy is stabbed, they''re out of the fight."


    He pulled a pained face.


    "You can be surprisingly squeamish." She commented.


    He averted his eyes from the weapon. "I just prefer killing to be painless."


    "We don''t have to kill them. The thistle can be cut out using-"


    "Okay, okay!" He waved his arms to get her to stop.


    She laughed at him.


    "You''re trying to hit all of them in one night, aren''t you?" He said more calmly.


    "They''ll be less prepared for that."


    "Second is also out there. They''ve seen him going around with a bunch of orphans attacking humans, I don''t know why. Be careful."


    "I will."


    She bend over and he stood on his toes so they could kiss. Which they did for a long time.


    "The kids are turning out great. Want to make more of them?" She whispered.


    "The house is full, where would we leave them all?" He joked.


    "Fill up the forest, take over the world." She tried.


    "We can''t do that."


    "You''re right. We can''t."


    <hr>


    There were more magibats in the underground cavern these days.


    Cyclophan had occupied himself more with monster evolutions and the wildlife of the dungeon was steadily becoming more exotic.


    But due to his agreement with his dungeon master, they posed no obstacle to the daily life of smugglers and bandits that did their business in the cove.


    That afternoon, Lacrima had found several nesting in the attic of her new home.


    But instead of being able to deal with them, she had to deal with the head goblin of her forge workers coming in with more questions.


    "Well?" The witch put her hands on her hips impatiently.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    "It''s magic, isn''t it?" Scratch returned the gesture.


    Between them stood the latest gift from the Ravenous Lich. An shining bronze gauntlet, ominous spikes protruding from every segment of the finger guards, and a large gemstone on the back.


    "It''s not cursed, if that''s what you''re asking. Where did you get this?"


    He chewed on his cigar. "We have some smuggling contacts...."


    "Never mind, I don''t need to know." She sighed.


    He was hesitant to divulge information on their relationship with Ritter, but she already knew the Promise was build on top of a dungeon. Dark magic was expected.


    "So it''s safe to use?"


    She glared at him. "I never said that. I said it wasn''t cursed."


    "What''s the difference?"


    Extending a long finger, Lacrima tapped the gem at the back of the item. "It''s nothing more than an oddly shaped spellrod, the effect will be whatever is engraved in the gem."


    Using the smoke, Scratch consulted with Cyclophan. *She''s telling the truth?*


    Nothing but. Then the weapon is safe! You said that just because I determined the description of its effect was true, that didn''t mean there weren''t any side effects. Here you is your proof there aren''t any side effects.


    I can''t just accept that, there has to be some kind of angle. "Can you tell what it does?"


    She raised an eyebrow and picked up the gauntlet. It wasn''t especially large, but still a few sizes too big for a goblin, and a woman''s hand fit in just fine.


    "W-Wait." He protested.


    She was pointing it almost directly at him.


    A sickening shrill buzz tore through the cavern and electricity crackled over the bronze. With a snap a bolt of lightning burst out of the palm, causing him to flinch.


    But it never left her grasp.


    The crackle had coalesced into a ball of lightning, suspended between the glove''s fingers.


    Lacrima moved them and the objects danced on top of her hand like a marble being rolled around.


    "It seems like it converts mana into a mote of elemental lightning, which can be thrown as a weapon."


    As you well know.


    "Is elemental lighting different from just regular lightning?" Scratch asked.


    "Don''t be daft," she swung the magic around dangerously, "of course it is. It''s an object, isn''t it? Non-magical lightning can''t be captured and put to work, would you ask if elemental death is the same as regular death? One is a phenomenon, the other is an element."


    "Is it dangerous? To the user I mean."


    "No more than any other weapon. Not that it matters, you can''t work up the mana to use this, not with one mana leech."


    "Then you could tell it wouldn''t hurt me when you activated it."


    "Haha, I didn''t say that." Before taking off the magical weapon she chucked the mote into the sea, where it spread through the water and killed two dozen fish in an instant.


    <hr>


    During Scratch''s argument with the witch the rest of the family was out, looking for adventurers around the outer colonies.


    "One cursed arrow downs a human, but an elf can fight it." Felix explained with the understated confidence of a lifelong expert.


    "That only happened once." Piers said.


    "It can happen. We will not be so complacent in the future." Lydia told him.


    She was in front, and the only one leading a horse. It was an old black Frisian by the name of "Gray" that contributed by carrying their countless weapons and contraptions.


    "Okay," Ada concluded, "so shoot the elves twice. What does an elf look like?"


    The hobgoblins were much younger than they looked, and even now they still caught their mother off-guard with sudden gaps in knowledge.


    "Elves? Well... I think you''ll know when you see one."


    "But how?"


    "Their ears are pointier."


    "What?" The daughter whined. "I gotta look at the ears? They''ll shoot me before I get a look at the ears!"


    "Just shoot everybody twice." Trevor suggested jovially.


    Lydia turned around to walk backwards and continue their talk. "More important than the arrows. Is working together. I don''t want you bumping into each other anymore."


    "We''re not going it on purpose," Will protested, rubbing a bruise from colliding with Trevor''s long staff, "if I could decide not to bump in anyone''s way I''d have done it already."


    "Just. Think about what your siblings are doing. If you put yourself in their shoes you can anticipate their movement, okay?"


    "Anti..."


    "Predict."


    From far away a series of short barks could be heard.


    They all perked up.


    "Is that-?"


    "Yeah, we should grab our weapons, huh?"


    -


    The next closest person to hear the signals of the warg wolves was an adventurer.


    ''Adventurer'' not being a legally protected title, it could even refer to a farm girl keeping dutiful guard in an outpost less than a day''s travel away from where she was born. Which was the least adventurous activity she could imagine doing with her time.


    But there weren''t much other rank F quests out there, so it came down to standing guard or begging her parents for an allowance. Perhaps she could learn a trade, or try to rank up her adventuring level...


    The rustling sound of wolves shook her out of her deliberations.


    From between her part the half-completed barricades she could barely make out the movement of beasts in the nightly dark.


    The girl straightened her back.


    This job wasn''t inapposite, there were real dangers in this forest. More serious adventurers than herself had died claiming even the little ground that they had.


    There were hobgoblins here, and a horrible brood knight leading them. So it wasn''t enough just standing there like a scarecrow scaring away the animals.


    She readied her weapon.


    Two years ago she had proudly bought a dual scimitar after the Adventurers'' Guild aptitude test had told her she was a duelist.


    It was a bit of personal identity. Many of her childhood friends were registered adventurers, but she was the only one wielding dual scimitars.


    The forest gaped at her with an empty dark silence.


    A minute ago all sorts of animal sounds could be heard from beyond the torchlight, but now...


    Before she knew it, a gloved hand covered her mouth from behind, and a chorus of boyish laughter followed, as more than half a dozen hobgoblins hopped over and about the barricades into the base.


    They were armed.


    Armed with claws, halberds, whips, and a whole other range of weapons.


    And holding up tall shields of thatch to protect themselves against arrow fire.;


    "Ssh." A woman''s voice hissed into the guard''s hair, demanding the silence of her subordinates as much as of her captive.


    Lydia Harkness, this area''s boss, now called the Brood Knight.


    Further on ahead was the central depot of the base, where the rest of the building materials and supplies were kept. A roofless set of walls in the manner of a giant crate. Some higher ranked guild staff was there to guard it, but at this rate the Brood would get the element of surprise.


    Three of them were lining up crossbows. The elven archer clearly in their sight.


    Recognizing the critical nature of this moment, the farm girl, born less than a day''s travel away, gripped her blades and spun around.


    The Brood Knight could easily dodge the attack and kick her in the head in one fluid motion, but she had been forced to take her hand off her mouth and since she had done that, the girl hadn''t stopped screaming.


    "ALAAAAARM!"


    As soon as she had made her sound, an arrow trailing green light shot at the woman''s neck.


    It was caught in the tangle of a tower shield, but then exploded into green cinders, which alerted everybody to their presence.


    Now Lydia had to give up on her captive completely, turning around to focus on the real threat.


    She nodded at Felix to take her place with the guard, as she began directing the others on navigating the open field towards the enemy.


    -


    The first thought the guard had, seeing the group breeze past her so easily, was I hope I still get paid.


    The second, If he doesn''t kill me.


    The hobgoblin opposite her had a threatening manner, he was swinging his weapon and grinning. He wasn''t there to keep her in place indefinitely, once she was dispatched he could join is family in the raid proper.


    She decided not to show her fear. "I-I''m a duelist you know, this is my playing field."


    "Come on, play." He said.


    Hobgoblins were threat level E, she was still rank F. Protocol was to flee, but that wasn''t an option here, so...


    She slapped at his weapon to get it out of the way and close the distance with her other scimitar.


    With a quick turn of the wrist he moved the halberd out of the way of her scimitar and back again, still blocking her from coming in. He then thrust it forward, forcing her to block with both weapons.


    Her left scimitar got caught between the two prongs and he twisted it out of her hand.


    She jumped backwards, out of the reach of his next thrust.


    Felix laughed. "You''re not supposed to block with your weight, you''re supposed to redirect it, try again."


    He lifted his weapon and gestured at the guard to pick up her other blade.


    She hesitated, eying the menacing spikes on the end of his.


    He was toying with her.


    But if she could do something unexpected, she could still win. One serious wound and she could escape with her life.


    She dove onto the scimitar and once she had grasped it continued into a roll, coming out of it with both weapons slashing into his thighs.


    "Woah-ho-ho." He blocked it with the back of his weapon, but when he pushed her back she spun around to slash him from the other end like she''d been trained.


    They were skirmishing close together now, where his weapon was at its least effective, and her at its most.


    She was in her element now, twirling around him, using the momentum of his own pushes against him. It seemed like it was only a question of time before she would manage to seriously wound him in the arm or neck.


    "Stop." He let go of his weapon and grabbed her wrists.


    The difference in power between them was simply too great. He had instantly and unilaterally decided when the spar had to end and then seized her.


    His grip was like iron. She had already let go of her swords.


    She whimpered as he brought his face close to hers. But his expression had changed.


    He was breathing heavily now, taking in her scent.


    They fell over. Him on top of her.


    Their legs interlocked and she could feel his growing lust. Instinct had seized the young hobgoblin. Not much thought of battle remained as he began grinding up against her.


    His hands loosened on her wrists, moving in over her arms to the sides of her flushed face as his lips inched closer to hers.


    With her free hands she could reach towards the grip of her blades, but she came just shy of grasping them.


    In a second she''d be-


    A loud bang of magic an shouting emanated from the depot.


    Felix''s glazed over eyes suddenly cleared and he jumped up.


    He flung her weapons over the barricade into the forest and picked up his own.


    "Don''t come after, you''re defeated."


    He then ran towards the commotion, leaving his opponent panting on the ground.


    -


    The situation around the depot was a bit more evenly matched.


    Most of the human guards that had rushed in where already out of the fight, paralyzed by the cursed bolts. But maintaining line of sight with the elven archers was dangerous, and the hobgoblin crossbow users were critically hit before the elves were.


    Now the attackers had put their shields together to heal the wounded and their advance had slowed.


    The closer they got, the more easily the defenders would be able to find a line of fire around their defense. Losing the element of surprise had thrown their whole plan into disarray.


    "Is everybody alright?" Lydia asked.


    Jasper just took his hands off of Piers'' neck, where he had healed a punctured artery. "Not dead, but not alright."


    The younger brother coughed up some blood that had seeped into his throat. He was in no fighting state.


    "Would you have done better without us?" Will asked his mother.


    She shook her head, "I could have started a fire. But not kept it burning. We have to rout the adventurers. I-"


    She stopped due to a sizzling sound.


    An arrow had embedded into the shield held by Will, still displaying some sort of bow magic.


    "Will!"


    That''s when the loud bang occurred, blasting the whole shield wall apart and sending Will flying backwards.


    He cried in pain. One of his forearms had a piece of bone sticking out.


    With their shields torn apart, the attackers now defenseless in an open field.


    Lydia threw a fan of knives as suppressive fire, hoping to slow down the elves'' reloading. And Ada put her hands on the ground to cast magic.


    She had learned how to draw in moisture from the soil, and she had learned how to heat matter with a touch. These two arts combined to summon a cloud of steam around them. In the dark of the night it was enough to conceal them completely.


    "Abominations!" Not slowed down at all, the elves fired into steam blindly.


    More hobgoblins screamed as the arrows hit Jasper and Constantine in the legs and stomach.


    "Attack! Get them before they get us!" Ada shouted over her mother, and the remaining hobgoblins burst out of cover.


    -


    Three elves were standing on the depot wall.


    Three hobgoblins were sprinting towards it. Jasper, who had immediately healed himself, Trevor, who had cast aside his crossbow and now held up a bolt like a stake, and Ada in front.


    The the distance was such that trying to close it between the drawing and nocking of another arrow would be a gambit even against a regular archer. But in the chaos of the moment the elves weren''t so coordinated, and all three fired upon the same attacker.


    Three arrows hit Trevor dead on. Two in the throat, one in the heart.


    He didn''t fall over.


    In his death throes he kept standing and took a last step forward, gesturing threateningly, though no sound came out.


    This spooked one of the elves enough that he lowered his bow.


    He didn''t raise it in time to prevent his two allies from being tackled by the last two hobgoblins.


    Ada''s thorny whip wrapped around a defender''s leg and pulled it out from under her. She tumbled down, hitting her head on the way.


    Jasper had clawed himself up the wooden scaffold with his steel claws and a helping of adrenaline. His target had seen him approach but hadn''t account for the speed at which he had jumped up to his level. The wrist mounted steel was more painful than deadly, but the bow offered no defense and wielding just pain was enough to work the elf to the ground.


    The two downed elves received cursed thistles in their torsos, keeping them down.


    The last remaining elf regained his composure, to avenge one of his fallen friends at least, but he had taken his attention away from the front and paid for it with a short sword in the back.


    Lydia Harkness had joined the final push and gotten the drop on him.


    "You killed my son." She said coldly.


    It could have sounded dispassionate and business-like, but she made her feelings known by withdrawing her weapon and, with a twirl to build up momentum, hacking it violently into his neck, so that the head completely separated from the body. Thereby desecrating the body of an already defeated opponent.


    -


    "We won!" Piers cheered through the pain of the arrow still sticking out of his body.


    But nobody cheered with him.


    On the ground, now sunk to its knees, sat Trevor''s dead body.


    "Angus," Jasper shook him. He didn''t even realize he was using the wrong name.


    Felix had caught up and embraced him.


    "I should''ve..." Lydia stammered. "I''m- I''m sorry." She buried her face in her hands.


    None of the younger hobgoblins had ever lost somebody before, and they were still too hopped up on adrenaline to realize what that meant. But they followed the mood and kept quiet, Will clutching his arm, Constantine lay down on his back, and Piers looked down at the grass.


    "Will we still... are we going to do the other ones?" Felix asked.


    Lydia didn''t answer.


    "Not like this." Ada said.


    <hr>


    From the perspective of a Wind Wolf mere seconds away, was the victim''s father. On his hand the weapon that could have ended the whole battle in a moment.


    The reason no mote of elemental lightning had put a stop to the fatal shooting was because the goblin in question, and the wolf he had been riding, where hanging upside down suspended in a complex snare trap, binding multiple limbs.


    He hadn''t gotten news of any tragedy.


    For now he was simply annoyed at an inconvenience.


    "What are you doing buddy?" He sighed.


    Second had a stone tipped spear pointed straight at his eye. "Saving everybody."


    <hr>


    Magic Creation


    Adventurers with the "bard" class may occasionally receive divine inspiration. It is the only class with the power to spontaneously manifest new abilities during travel.


    Divinely inspired music is considered a gift from the gods, not dark sorcery, and can be freely used.


    Adventurers are not obligated to share the sheet music of their creations with their guild office. Original creations may be monetized, and can be sold to mages for refining into proper spells.


    Adventurers with the "mage" class may not simply take up the hobby of refining divine music into spellcraft, only spellcrafters vetted by the crown have this legal right. Unlicensed research into magic creation is highly illegal.

 Musical Break

    The game [Four Realms] enjoys moderate success in the indie video game scene.


    It''s an open world character leveling game with turn-based combat, in the style of the JRPG. Canonically, the player character is the player themself after being reincarnated into a fantasy world. Though, for an audience insert character, Laurus has a surprising amount of commentary and dialogue.


    There are some official tie-in comics, the most recent one being [Don''t mind me, I''m just a mob!], which chronicles the adventurers of Rudy, a regular Japanese highschooler reincarnated into the world of [Four Realms]. Unfortunately [Don''t Mind Me, I''m Just a Mob] has hit an unexpected hiatus and might be discontinued all together. However, fans of the series can still keep themselves occupied with [Magic Robot Fantasy], about a mech-obsessed Japanese highschooler reincarnating as the son of a nobleman and modernizing his family''s army with magical robot suits, and with the still ongoing [The Reaper of Darkness Never Wants to Die Again] about a Japanese shut-in reincarnating alongside all his highschool classmates and using dark magic to get back at his bullies.


    Observant readers might have spotted a trend with the stories set in this universe. The "isekai" (Japanese for ''new world'') premise seems to be a favorite of the author. Fans have speculated that some of his earlier works might very well be taking place in the [Four Realms] world. The web novel [I won''t accept my destiny as the villainous Duke''s daughter], features a reincarnator being cast into the life of Beatrice von Dichtershire, a romantic rival of a high society love story. She rejects this role rather early on and instead spends most of the story killing progressively more powerful monsters. The people she meets and the places she visits share a striking resemblance to those in the game.


    There is even a monster slaying adventurer called Beatrice featured in [Four Realms]. Yet, a few things seem off. If the people Beatrice meets were really the very same the player does in [Four Realms], you''d think they''d mention the group of heroes out there saving the world. But Beatrice never encounters any suggestion that heroes or reincarnators other than herself exist in her world.


    Perhaps we can chalk it up to reused ideas.


    One element that''s a constant between the worlds of [I won''t accept my destiny as the villainous Duke''s daughter] and [Four Realms] is the ruins of the Goblin King''s palace. In the middle of the forest, out of the way of regular people and even wandering monster slayers stand the collapsed foundations of a sprawling stone citadel. Beatrice briefly explores the labyrinth, and so can the player character of [Four Realms] if they want to find a secret item that''s critical for achieving the true ending. The murals and mosaics there hint at a much deeper history than we know, they show a world in which both goblins and humans were under the rule of a cruel and horrendously fat monstrous humanoid.


    The lore behind this encounter is no mystery. [Four Realms] itself directly states that the title of Demon King has been held by various monsters and villains over the generation. The ruins are what remains of an age where the goblin king had obtained that title.


    It can even be speculated that this is the cause for the sorry state the characters in the series encounter goblin kind in. A villain can not wield the power of demonkind without embracing pure evil, meaning they have to betray any constructive purposes they might have sought that power for in the first place. The goblin king may have sought to become Demon King in order to protect his subjects or increase their status, but once he had become fully corrupted they were nothing to him but a resource. The higher goblinoids such as hobgoblins and ogres were annihilated in endless war against life itself, and the court of the king''s palace became filled with only demons. When the Demon King was once again defeated the demons slunk back into the depths and all that remained of the goblin kingdom were smatterings of savage tribes with no knowledge of their history.


    <hr>


    "If this goes on, you''ll become the demon king." Second unhelpfully exposited.


    "If this goes on, I''ll become royally pissed off." Scratch struggled against the ropes.


    Second''s ragtag group of followers consisted of almost two dozen displaced goblin orphans. They had only half understood the cause of his concern, but he projected a leader-like confidence, and they were willing to follow him.


    Scratch''s immediate backup consisted of a single windwolf, who had gotten constricted in the same trap as him and was similarly unable to move.


    It took nearly all of the goblins to hold the ropes in place that kept the prisoners suspended. The rest were poised to kill him, but Second was hesitant to make the first strike.


    "We said you''d lead us, because you''d help us. Were you only pretending? Are we tools to you?"


    Scratch sighed. "Look... tell me what you want. Food? Women?"


    Second teared up a bit, still holding on to his threatening spear, "I want you to talk to me. Answer my questions like you would anybody else, like I matter to you."


    "Hey! Hey... what is this about?"


    "You made us dig into the cave, and you decide who gets to live into the colonies. They say you''re never gonna be done, they say you want to have the homes of the humans next. Is that true?"


    "Don''t you?"


    "IS THAT TRUE!?"


    "YES GODDAMMIT!" Scratch wriggled angrily. "Of course it''s true! Everybody does! I saw the city of Eston from the water the other day, it was like a glittering jewel, I need it for myself..." For a second he was lost in a reverie of avarice. "It''s the human condition to always want more."


    "Not me!" Second lowered his weapon and put his hand on his chest. "It''s not my condition. I wanted us to live together and be happy."


    "So? Aren''t we?"


    The younger goblin stomped the ground. "No! First, Teeth, and Yeller are dead! Dumb and Slow! Fyro and Mac! And you don''t care! You have the humans that killed them live with us. And you''ve started a new family... with your hobgoblins."


    Scratch was quiet. "So you hate the kids now?"


    "No. This is for them too."


    The reasoning wasn''t exactly clear and he got a questioning look.


    Still hesitant to make the kill, he explained. "You''re gonna forget about them, I know you will. Once you have your city your Promise will just be some used up piece of runoff to you. Because you''re turning into the demon king."


    "Get this thing out of-" Scratch tried to slap the menacing point away from his face, but he was too constricted. He could move his wrist but not his arm, the lightning gauntlet twisted free of the ropes. "Listen... somebody has clearly been putting thoughts in your head. I don''t know what a demon king is, but it''s not me. Do I look like a demon to you?"


    "My next question." Second said, "and you''re gonna answer it."


    Scratch resigned himself. "Yeah yeah."


    "Who can die for you to control everything?"


    "What?"


    The younger brother shook his weapon. "You know what. How many goblins have to be killed by fairies and knights, and adventurers? Who of us are just disposable to you?"


    "Not you."


    "No. But they are, aren''t they?" He gestured to the orphans surrounding him.


    Scratch''s expression went much colder. A guttural grunting voice gargled up from the back of his throat. "I despise it when you get like this."


    "I''m not-"


    "Haven''t I taught you enough not to get sentimental about bottom feeders? Yeah, I discriminate, I care more about our family than about some randos in the woods. I think that''s reasonable, and I think it''s reasonable to expect you do the same. Car Less. Goddammit." He groaned. "That part of you... that hot and cold running blood of you... that''s your enemy Second. More than any monster or elf, it wants to kill you."


    Second didn''t want to hear it, he was steeling himself for the kill.


    "What''s your plan after this?" Scratch asked.


    "I kill you. Lydia kills me. The humans kill Lydia. The goblins go back to how they were before us."


    "Like it was before... and this is preferable to the demon king scenario."


    "Yes."


    Scratch suppressed a joyless laugh. "Tell me at least. If I gotta keel over it. Tell me what you were told."


    Second lifted his weapon, thought it over, and then walked up to him to whisper in his ear.


    As he did, he left the immediate vicinity of his followers.


    Scratch looked at him coldly as he tossed a mote of elemental lightning over his head. The electricity burst outward after hitting the leaves between their feet, an upwards over their bodies, and smoked their insides. They were dead before they hit the floor.


    Second was too shocked to even turn around.


    The more spread out survivors began to yell, as they no longer had the strength to keep the wind wolf in place.


    Wendy escaped from the ropes with a sudden burst of action and growled intimidatingly. They let go of their ropes and Scratch fell down as well.


    "This close!" Scratch got up and gestured with the gauntlet as he held Second''s in place with the other arm. "I was this close to having to kill you too."


    Wendy stood around them to fend off the others, but they were not in a combative mood after the display of magic.


    "What were you thi-" Scratch huffed. The manabelt had taken a lot of blood from him just for that one attack. He leaned against the wolf''s black fur. "We''re going home."


    <hr>


    The alchemist''s apprentice was getting popular now.


    He had no idea there were this many young adults in his own city.


    Apprentices, heirs, adventurers, from social circles that never touched with his own, let alone overlapped.


    The little barn provided by the Thieves'' Guild as a meeting spot wasn''t so inconspicuous anymore with three dozen party goers.


    It was just the effect of the modified bitter crimson... of sweet crimson. People wanted to dance, and hug (more than hug sometimes), and drink.


    Somebody had dragged a set of instruments in there and now there was music all the time.


    But the goblin had been wrong. Conspicuousness had only been good for business.


    A young knight had been sent round to inspect the ruckus, but it was not like she smelled a whiff of sweet crimson and then put him in shackles.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    She had no idea of its significance and had even accepted a vial, after confirming that it wasn''t alcoholic.


    Now she was here for the third day, slow dancing with a colleague.


    No no, the goblin didn''t know what it was talking about. There would be no "dealers" on street corners, the customers were coming to him. And he didn''t need to know about the profit margin either. Since the sale of sweet crimson had exceeded expectations by so much, it would be perfectly reasonable to spend some of it before calculating the investor''s percentage.


    That was the sort of thing going through his head at he stood behind the bar, slipping the occasional silver coin from the counter into his coin purse, rather than the treasury.


    Even having justified the small embezzlement in his head, he felt tremendously called out when a male voice coughed behind him to announce its presence. "Got a minute?"


    The young man''s name was George, he was a stable boy. And, as the apprentice now knew, he was an associate of the thieves'' guild. He wasn''t here to audit his finances.


    "Would you like anything to drink?"


    "I want you to meet me outside." It sounded vaguely threatening.


    "W-what if I''m busy?"


    "Make some time. I don''t want us to make a mess of your place either." Now it sounded overtly threatening.


    -


    Four well build men were waiting just out of earshot of the party to have their talk with the owner.


    They were disguising their true business rather transparently with unlit cigarettes.


    Seeing their bartender be led away, one of his new friends called out half concerned. "Hey? Everything okay?"


    "Everything okay!" George answered for him, with his hand firmly gripping his shoulder.


    The buzz was too strong to really work up a worry, so the apprentice was led to the middle of the smoking circle without protest.


    "You''re with Mabel''s side right?" George asked in a friendly tone. "I knew her sister."


    "S-sure."


    "How long have you been moving inventory for the guild? You like it?"


    "Just a week..."


    The conversation wasn''t warming up, so the stable boy went straight to business. "Listen, do you know what the four branches of the guild are? Why we have them?"


    The apprentice looked around at the burly men cracking their knuckles. "I''m with Mabel''s side though..."


    George gave a tortured smile, the mark wasn''t making it easy. "You''re with Mabel, who took over smuggling from Fyro. But there''s also Lacrima, you know, the witch? She owns the safe houses and clean up. The Liege has his shadow bandits, and Mac has the casino. So nobody..." he moved his head down to be able to look him directly in the eyes "...competes with anybody else. Either you act on behalf of a leader, and you stay in their branch, or you don''t act at all. You get it, right?"


    "What''s all of this have to do with me? I''m not... I mean it''s barely even thieves'' guild business."


    "It''s a night club." One of the men grunted.


    "Mac thinks all of this," Mac gestured broadly at the barn, "would be much more at home around the roulette. In fact it''s been leading people away from the roulette. We don''t want that kind of competition, do we?"


    Two men punched the palms of their hand.


    "I... It''s not up to me," the apprentice invented, "I work for Barbara... and the goblin."


    George nodded, touching one of his friends'' upper arm to calm him down. "You see a future with those two? You know they''ve pressured us for month after month to get an adventurers'' guild guildmaster on our payroll." He laughed. "Who has that power!? They''re desperate because everybody out there wants to destroy them. The adventurers, the knights... according to the rumors there''s enemies in the witchwood as well."


    The apprentice looked around and leaned in. "But can I just switch sides? Is that allowed?"


    George winked. "The smugglers about to be destroyed, Lacrima is in hiding and can''t control her enterprise anymore, very soon the old rules won''t apply anymore. Bet on the right horse."


    It was starting to sound familiar. Barbara had said something like that too right before she disappeared.


    Perhaps he could hedge his bets and stay good with Mac without committing.


    "What do you want me to do?"


    George patted his shoulder. "How about you and I have a nice chat with the boss next month. I''m sure he''ll know what to do."


    <hr>


    Trevor received his own resting place and ribbon at the mourning tree.


    Second received house arrest in the forge and was not allowed up on the surface again.


    Youthere was found two days later. The insurgents had stabbed him in the neck and buried him in an old pit trap under half a ton of rocks.


    "But," he had commented joyously, "it takes more than that to destroy the beautiful lady Harkness'' dreams of pleasure."


    "Listen," Scratch groaned. He was completely drained physically and emotionally. He was lying on his couch with his eyes closed when commanding the demon, "I know you''ve conspired to make me kill my brother..."


    "Master... I-"


    "But I need your expertise. The enemy is building a wall around our home... make them go away. That''s how you make it up to me."


    "Then... I have the command over the troops?" Youthere''s teeth flashed maliciously.


    It was clear that the goblin patriarch was in no position to lead anybody himself. He was still recuperating from overuse of his demonic parasite.


    Scratch opened his baggy eyes just to give him an annoyed look. "No. Of course not. Lydia has the command, she gets the final say. You follow."


    "...As you wish."


    The demon could see his gamble had backfired. Scratch had caught on to him having a hidden agenda of some persuasion, and the family as a whole resented him for causing trouble. But on the other hand, the opposing voice in his master''s ear had been banished, and he was still there.


    He gave Lydia Harkness a glance, they were both there to speak with Scratch, but she had elected to ignore him. For a woman he was specifically sculpted to seduce, she sure was difficult.


    -


    After the Pyrrhic victory against the first adventurer base, the family had retreated back to the Promise, and the adventurers had consolidated more control over the territory.


    The smuggling caravan had no passage, and normal culling excursions were reaching into the favored inner colonies now.


    The prevailing attitude was that this was war, and wartime practices were resurrected. Including the conscription of goblins from the colonies and the use of an armored infantry.


    Lydia Harkness was to take control of a new goblin legion, even larger and carrying more steel than the one fielded against the knight army.


    "I''m giving you Youthere for this." Scratch told her.


    "I don''t believe he''s to be trusted." She said.


    "Don''t trust him. Just use him."


    She shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. "Will the demon stop me from..."


    "Are you scared you''ll lose another?" he asked.


    "Yes."


    "Good. Be scared, the kids can''t be, so they need you to be scared for all of them."


    She nodded solemnly. "If I get my hands on-"


    "Hey!" He interrupted. "We said we weren''t going to do this."


    "Do what?"


    "When we first started out, you swore you''d kill your own children if they''d threaten humans."


    She gave a sad smile. "That was the old me. You changed me... I-"


    "No. This and that are exactly the same. Righteous anger is poor counsel. I''m giving you the demon."


    "Right."


    <hr>


    The dining table once again became the war room of the goblin nation.


    The same map that had served to plan out the defense against the looming fairy threat now provided the playmat for plotting the march against the culling.


    "Our top intelligence priority has been to track the location of the new guildmaster, Linel." She explained, "we can''t afford to be surprised when facing a rank B adventurer. In the past we kept to quick lightning operations. But that is no longer an option."


    The only other person in the room was the demon, but she tried not looking at him while she spoke.


    His appearance was a reflection of the worst parts of herself, that had ruined her life.


    If she had to listen to his input, she''d rather do it between the two of them, so that her children didn''t have to see him make her sweat.


    "Though I am sure that, as a knight, you are confident in your battlefield tactics." He said sweetly, "I believe that strategy, not tactics, is what will be the deciding factor here."


    She didn''t look at him and showed no emotion. "What''s the difference?"


    "Tactics concerns the specifics of battle, strategy concerns which battles to fight. For instance... say we take the hidden village of the elves."


    Despite her insistence on stoicism this elicited a response.


    "Enchanted bows are not homespun handywork," Youthere continued, "they require ancient bowyers wielding secret arts. Capture these, and the power of the elves will dry up. Like a river without a spring!"


    Now she did look him in the eyes. "If you know where the hidden village is. Something kept secret for a thousand years-"


    "Oh I do not know. But it should be easy to find out, no? After all, these elves have not fielded warriors for a thousand years, until now. They have not been captured as prisoners of war, until now. They have not been exposed to the threat of true demonic malice... until now."


    A chill ran up her spine. "We''ve interrogated them. They''d die before telling us."


    He stared at her through his hair, an unnatural smile distorting his human disguise. "Scratch has so far denied me access to the prisoners. But perhaps today... I can expose them to torture no mortal mind can conceive of, until they beg to be allowed to die."


    She looked away, but she could still feel his stare. "We have our strategy. The army takes the bases, we negotiate peace in exchange for human hostages. Nobody has to fight the guildmaster. And nobody has to... do *that*."


    He clicked his tongue as she positioned the small wood carvings representing the troops.


    "Just tell me. What you think of this."


    And so only tactical advice was given.


    <hr>


    Outside, a sea of metal was gathering.


    The unarmored skirmishers still outnumbered the steel clad hoplites by about four to one, but the army as a whole had grown tremendously over the past half year and even the goblins that could afford to go head to toe in protective gear were enough to fill up the whole Promise. And the unarmored, which had come from farther away, had created numerous tented villages on the surrounding farmland.


    It was difficult for human denizens to move around in the street with the crowd of short metal snowmen filling up every available space, so they looked on from the windows of their homes and workshops as the procession went by.


    The ''tower'', the elevated platform that had started out as a lookout, was once again a podium, as the family used it to inform and entertain the conscripts while they waited to set out.


    Currently Ada had the voice amplifying spellrod and was using it to whip them into a frenzy over the evils of humanity.


    "I look at all the faces here, and I don''t see anybody that hasn''t lost a brother. I have lost two brothers. Do you think they''re satisfied with two brothers? No! They''re coming for all of you, and all of your friends!"


    It wasn''t exactly untrue, but it wasn''t the tone either of her parents would have used. It led to a lot of clanging of metal and angry shouting.


    Between the ocean of rusty steel sat a sad troll.


    Bree was wearing her enormous metal gauntlets, now topped off with a wide brimmed metal hat and chainmail over the upper half of her torso.


    Even sitting down she towered above the goblins around her, but she didn''t match the heights of their energy.


    When Lydia Harkness was done with her strategy meeting she went to meet her adoptive troll daughter before anybody else.


    Not slowed down by the crowded streets she simply appeared beside her. "How is the troll den?"


    "Oh. It''s... fine."


    She had been involved with a scecret project taking place all the way down where the forge connected to the underworld, but she couldn''t be less enthused about it now.


    "We''re doing this to protect places like yours." Lydia whispered to her.


    "If I- If I hadn''t been making a garden, if I''d been fighting too, maybe he wouldn''t have died."


    "You shouldn''t think like that."


    "I don''t want to! So from now on, I have to be part of the fight." The troll made a huge clenched fist with her steel gauntlet.


    The mother then took her daughter''s place on the podium. She stroked her hair and took the spell rod.


    She held up three fingers. "Three days. We have three days to march to the edge of the territory. To take back the colonies. And to fortify. It takes three days for the adventurers'' guild to notice and respond to our meeting here. They will send their strongest warriors and we must be ready once they''re here. We set out today. Each of you has been assigned to a division, if you could each follow the..."


    She went on to give exact orders for marching formations.


    The goblins were obedient. Lacking in worldly experience they usually did whatever everybody else seemed to be doing, and this woman seemed to be in charge.


    -


    Listening in on the speech was a less callow individual.


    Linel had gone through considerable effort making it past the goblin camps without being noticed.


    He could have slain them easily, but he did not want to cause a ruckus and have the leaders flee in the commotion. His target was right here.


    He jumped down from the simple wall into the goblin village to announce his presence "HARKNESS!!" He shouted, amplifying his voice like she had.


    "Shhh!" Several goblins beside him shushed him like he was a heckler.


    He was stunned for a second at the goblins'' lack of surprise at a human in their midst. But his attention returned to the brood knight when she stopped talking and looked at him.


    "The Liege sends his regards!" He roared and stuck his empty hand up in the sky.


    From out of the crowd an armored troll jumped up and bounded towards him, roaring and bearing her teeth.


    But she was thrown off when a bolt of lightning crashed from the sky and into his hand.


    A shockwave threw up dirt and gravel, knocked over the goblin horde, and caused the buildings to shake on their foundations.


    Linel emerged unharmed, and in his outstretched hand now rested an angular guitar.


    Its design was reminiscent of the lightning that had brought it forth, with points and zigzags in its body. It was too flat for a sound box, but when he struck a chord it made sound anyway. It gave off a distorted but harmonious hum.


    "A little dirge for your vile spawn!" He cackled, and stuck out his tongue.


    A fast paced melody rang through the air as he began strumming the magical weapon.


    Bree threw a goblin out of her way and smashed the ground with her fists.


    The crowd of steel began to shake and bump into each other.


    Even all the way on stage the hobgoblins clutched their heads and lowered themselves to the ground.


    "They''re not going to help you." He said while playing.


    He began to walk towars her and the subhumans moved out of its path.


    Lydia Harkness stood still, like a wide-eyed doe. She had no response.


    <hr>


    Summon Weapon


    Class: Bard or Duelist


    Level: C


    Adventurers that have mastered this ability are able to conjure a weapon out of nothingness. Summoned weapons are created from magical energies and are most attuned to the owner''s magic. Upon mastery of the technique, the adventurer will be able to equip a medium quality weapon with all the qualities of an infused instrument. Upon honing the technique, the adventurer can create a more personalized and higher quality weapon.


    World renowned duelists have wielded summoned weapons that matched ancient artefacts in power.

 Turn Back

    Scratch''s dream was almost pleasant.


    There was a calming brook trickling through the unspecified nothingness, and stars brightened the night''s sky.


    But the peaceful ambiance was marred by the unsettling context.


    This is a magic sleep.


    Seconds earlier he had been awake. There had been shouting and unusual weather, and now he was here.


    "Cyclophan? Are you there?"


    A little adder dug itself up out of the ground. I have renewed attempt after attempt to wake you, but as long as that accursed bard keeps playing his music the magic will take again. This would not have happened with a stronger champion.


    "The guild told us Linel was occupied in Eston. Why didn''t you warn me they were lying?"


    They... weren''t.


    "Don''t be cute with me. Either they were telling the truth or they weren''t."


    The snakelet narrowed its eyes an unnatural way. **When any deliberate lie is spoken with the intent to deceive, I am there. I can tell you much about the potion brewer you have recruited, but your allies with the guild have spoken not a word of deception. If what they said was untrue... well... they must have been deceived themselves.**


    "By...?"


    ...in some way that falls outside my power.


    "Pfff." Scratch stood up in his dreamworld and began to pace around. "They''d have to choose their words pretty well if they wanted to give Mabel the runaround but not explicitly lie. They wouldn''t do that unless... they knew about you."


    What!?


    He pointed at the reptile. "Who knows that the evil god of Deception inhabits a dungeon under the Promise?"


    Cyclophan nodded. **Only you, your familiar, and my fellow evil gods... Manshuu, who is licking his wounds after being chased out here...


    Pinchin, the god of Death and Undeath, that lich you met is his champion.**


    "Ritter." Scratch clenched his imaginary jaw. "I knew he was too friendly to be trusted. Argh!" He slapped himself. "I should have known something was wrong this guy went so hard on the culling. The rest of the guild had agreed we''re more trouble than we''re worth, only an ulterior motive can explain it."


    This doesn''t help us in the moment. This enemy is more powerful than any you''ve faced before, if this continues he will easily bypass your city level and tear through the wildlife in your cave level. Then it''s only a short distance to the factory level where my core is, and I *still* don''t have a boss monster.


    "...levels?"


    That''s how we divide up our dungeons.


    "...I see... You said I can''t wake up for as long as he''s playing his music?"


    You and your army. Bard music uses the same resonance normal music has with your mind. Harmonious tones and rythm can induce certain sensation, magical harmonies can induce special effects. Most monsters can''t appreciate music in the first place, but subhumans are uniquely vulnerable. If this bard has mastered music that weakens, rather than strengthens, he must have experience fighting humans. And humans at least have the gods'' blessings to protect them against harmful magic, you do not.


    Scratch tapped his foot. "Then I suppose we have to interrupt his solo somehow."


    Harkness and are men are currently attempting just that.


    "Can you use your darkness?"


    The adder shook its head. **Not at this depth, my tendrils only extend to the cavern ceiling.**


    "Hmm. Here''s what we''ll do..."


    <hr>


    "Sister Lawina, open thine eyes, our salvation has come!"


    "Brother Gorid, do not fill me with empty hope, now that I must steel myself and face oblivion."


    After their comrades had fallen, both elves had been captured alive by the goblin army and imprisoned near the entrance of their cliff side fortress.


    They had been relentlessly interrogated, but neither had given anything to the Brood Knight.


    For the past days they had been left alone in their cell while the goblin troops were building.


    It was clear now that their captors had no further use of them. Lawina had been meditating for hours to work up the courage to bite her own tongue and die. At least in death, her body wouldn''t be used for the production of yet more goblins.


    "Stay thy tongue, Lawina, come look!" Gorid exclaimed.


    From the small crack in the windowless cell he could see the guildmaster challenge the Brood Knight.


    Lured by the sound of the dirge, Lawina pushed him away and looked at the spectacle herself.


    "Our guards are made lame! Lawina we can escape." Gorid said.


    She didn''t take her eyes off the battle. "But can we return in good pride, without our bows? Surely, they must be inside the central motte."


    "Aye, we will be disgraced. But to the motte we must not go. There are worse things there than goblins, Lawina. For me, death, for you..."


    "I will not be another Fiora. Off with us then, in pride or shame. But how to escape these walls?"


    Gorid looked determined, "brute force must do it, if we have no worry of alerting these here guards.


    <hr>


    The razor sharp sound waves tore through the young settlement, drowning out even the mad threshing of affected goblins.


    The humans were not wholly unaffected by the magic either, they were wincing at the music cutting painfully into their eardrums during the fight.


    Lydia Harkness was engaged in a one-on-one duel with the bard. As long as she was up close, he wouldn''t have the opportunity to pause and prepare a ranged magical attack.


    While she was up close, she only had to content with the head of the guitar being thrust at her while it was being played. But she was failing.


    The bard''s music was making her slower and more predictable. Her fighting style relied on movements practiced to be near automatic, as most did, and automatic things were the most easily captured by bardic magic. More often than not she would move at the pace and rhythm of his tune, and he could simply side-step or deflect her knives.


    Aimone and Audace were further away, hoping to interrupt his solo with some lucky strike of water magic, but they weren''t getting lucky. And with the speed Linel and Harkness were dancing around each other on the stage it became an increasingly precarious shot.


    "Go inside," Aimone hissed at Gildo, "get somebody."


    "Who?"


    "Just... anybody."


    -


    At the back of the manor''s atrium, in the shade of the overhanging rooms, was the inset cave entrance. A carved wooden door depicting a stylized but triumphant goblin horde charging towards the middle.


    Gildo fumbled with the lock and opened it.


    There was a wooden interior room and a hidden staircase leading down. He had seen it before.


    Normally there would be goblins about. Storing and retrieving inventory, crafting and counting in the dark. But it was quiet today, the goblins had gathered outside, and only the muffled clanging of their armor faintly reverberated from the outside.


    "Candlelight." He summoned a magical orb to light his way, he needed to find somewhere populated, maybe with a witch or troll.


    He ran back and forth around the basement layer trying to find a way down for just over two minutes, a fatally long time as far as fights to the death were concerned.


    Suddenly it occurred to him to dim his light so the opening to the sunstone lit wolf den would stand out more.


    It instantly did, indirect lighting smeared the dark off the natural stone and stone planks and the man could step onto the moss layer just a moment later.


    "Mannaggia." He cursed himself out for wasting time and followed the horse-shoe shape cave to its front.


    It was a wide open space with wooden lanterns lighting it up. He could see the wolf and fowl monsters that made the moss their home, and they could see him. The warg wolves sat in place, with glowing eyes staring intently at him as he went by.


    He could only hope they wouldn''t attack him, and they didn''t.


    At the end of the moss cave he still hadn''t met a single soul, but there was a wooden platform that could be lowered into Lacrima''s forge.


    Gildo stopped in his tracks.


    It would take half an hour before he could descend, reach anybody in the underground harbor, and lead them back up to the fight. And if he did, who could he bring? An aging witch? Some thieves'' guild goon?


    Aimone hadn''t sent him for anything, he had send him away. To save his life.


    "It''s over, isn''t it? They''re already dead." He whined as he sunk to the floor.


    "Are you going down or not?"


    A small goblin with big eyes sat beside the entrance to the elevator.


    He had been whittling a piece of wood, but had stopped to stare judgmentally.


    "You''re that brat that got put in time-out... Number two."


    Second raised his knife. "Do you have a problem with me? Are you gonna kill me?" He had a desperate eagerness in his eyes.


    "Ha! What''s the point? We''re all going to die soon anyway. If an army can''t defend us..."


    The goblin lowered his weapon. "What''s going on out there?"


    But Gildo didn''t answer, instead he tilted his head looking at the wooden platform. A patter sound emanated from it, like raindrops were falling upside down against the wood.


    "What''s happening in there?"


    <hr>


    It was becoming increasingly clear that the guildmaster was only toying with his quarry.


    Whenever the bandit leader managed to get close by virtue of luck or complacency he would suddenly speed up, switch out his dirge for a panicky melody that messed with her balance, and hit her in the arm and neck. Then he would return to the back-and-forth they had before.


    She wasn''t running out of stamina just yet, but there was no path to victory here, so she withdrew the pressure she put on him to defend and prepared to flee.


    As soon as he saw that he ended the fight in one blow. Grabbing the guitar by the neck her swung it around his head and swung at it at her temple.


    She blocked with her arm but it caught only a fraction of the force and one of the points of the instrument cracked her skull open. She flew off the platform in an arc, spattering a trail of blood through the air, and fell limp onto the goblins there.


    "Nothing personal, missy." Linel laughed, as he jumped down himself.


    Without his music, some of the armored goblins had woken up, and they shielded Lydia''s unconscious body.


    "But we have a plan," he continued without pause, putting his hands over the snares again, "and you ain''t in it!"


    Another chord cut through the goblins, and blood spurted out of the metal in front of him.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    It wasn''t enough the kill hobgoblins. "Hey!" Ada yelled out from behind. "We''re not done yet."


    He didn''t turn to face her. He rolled his eyes and simply restarted his dirge, causing her to sink once more.


    "Well..." Linel almost sang while he stood over Lydia Harkness'' unconscious body, "goodbye." He raised up his foot to crush her neck.


    That''s when the swarm hit him.


    -


    The dragonbats that clung to the ceiling of the underground cavern did not usually fly in swarms.


    Nor did they huddle together for warmth when sleeping.


    Any bunching up of the creatures was only due to shared preference for certain kinds of shelter and food, and the increasingly dense population that had grown on the harbor town''s food scraps and trash.


    Yet over six hundred of the flying monsters, each with a wingspan nearing four feet, had rushed out of the elevator entrance, through the basement and into the town.


    It was a river of scales and shrieks. A column of dragonbat shooting out and over the main road.


    The bard was briefly enveloped by a fresh crop of new enemies, but their weak scratches posed no threat to him and he held his footing. Soon his vision cleared up as the beasts lost their cohesion and spread out over the Promise grounds.


    "Goodbye- Ah what now!?"


    Again his coup de grace was interrupted by an attack. A crossbow bolt with a curse of weakness stuck into his shoulder.


    He had more than enough strength to pull it out, which he did, but the attacks kept coming. The hobgoblins were firing at him and the armored goblins were closing in around him.


    He tried his dirge again, but he had already noticed the problem himself. The omnipresent shrieking and flapping of dragonbats was drowning out his music. Nobody knew better than a bard that an enchanted song is not an enchanted song if nobody hears it.


    "Shut up. Shut. Up!" He conjured up a ringing shockwave from his guitar. The armored goblins where thrown into the air, great masses of earth rippled outwards, and all the fancy buildings in the Promise that had gotten their hands on real glass lost it to the bluster.


    Left behind was an eerily silent patch of still air, with no dragonbats or dust inside, that enveloped half the settlement.


    There was no lasting barrier, but the creatures had learned their lessons and were flying away from the guildmaster.


    As the buildings settled from the shockwave, the prison had been damaged enough for the two elves to make their getaway.


    Panting now, and a bit scratched up, Linel reached for his potion belt.


    He was able to dodge Ada''s whip as he held a mana potion to his lips.


    It''s not easy gulping down a full pint of liquid while you''re being attacked from all sides, but Linel was a veteran adventurer and he more than managed.


    A few seconds later he was ready to resume playing.


    "Back to sleep wi-" He stopped talking and fumed when he saw the goblin patriarch had climbed up on the stage and had snatched the voice amplifying spellrod off the wooden floor.


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAA"


    His little green face went red with strain as he shouted over Linel''s song.


    "You little-" he rushed towards him, but the path was blocked by the massive steel forearm of a troll.


    He couldn''t stay in place and battle her with the countless blades and spears of the goblin army raining down on him.


    But he wasn''t out of tricks yet. He quickly recited a spell, "Dower''s Wings," and leaped upwards.


    The air collected under his feet and cloak. He was levitating.


    The goblin throng was undeterred however, and the small soldier towered on top of each other to reach him.


    There was an upper limit to how high he could levitate, and it could be measured four goblins high. Like eager ants they climbed up and over


    each other reaching his height. Most would fall after getting one strike in, but they were immediately replaced, and more consistent towers came into being as well, with dedicated lifters making up the base.


    He toppled as many of the towers as he could, wielding his weapon as a club, but he couldn''t box up against the sheer number of them and was driven back.


    One more he tried his dirge, but the screaming goblin hadn''t run out of breath yet. "I don''t give a damn ''bout my reputation! You''re living in the past it''s a new generation!" He was turning it into a playful song, further enraging him.


    A thorny whip wrapped itself around the bard''s leg, and a two-pronged halberd cut into his arm.


    "A guy can do what he wants to do and that''s what I''m gonna do. An'' I don''t give a damn '' bout my bad reputation!"


    The singing was still overriding most of his dirge and the surrounding army was preventing him from getting to the singer.


    Not panic, but annoyed resignation spread across the bard''s face.


    He struck the chord again, toppling nearby goblins with a yet another shock wave, and landed on the ground. His levitation had ended.


    "I''ll be back. For both of you next time." He spat, and a magical circle spread around his feet.


    A single javelin was hurled at him while he was performing the magic, but he dodged it without being interrupted.


    He made eye contact with Fat, the goblin who had thrown it, and the look in his eyes caused the goblin to shield his face with his hands.


    Then the magic activated and the bard disappeared in a flash of light.


    "Did we... win?" Piers asked sheepishly.


    A quick survey of their home didn''t inspire a very strong asseveration. Their mother was near death, several goblins were laying motionless in their own blood, and many of the buildings were in ruins. One of which was the small prison that had, until recently, contained the prisoners of war.


    -


    Several goblins had died in the reconquest campaign before they had even set out.


    Scratch himself wasn''t in very good condition either. He was gasping for air, being anemic and having screamed his lungs out.


    Lydia had a serious head wound that her sons were using magic to heal.


    "Are still going to chase the humans out?" Will asked seriously. "If they''re this strong..."


    "We have to." Ada said, "we have more than twenty times a hundred goblins here. If we just send them home again they''ll kill us."


    "But he ruined the whole Promise. Everything is falling apart and we don''t even have elves to trade anymore."


    "We''ll get new prisoners." Piers said.


    "Hhm..." Lydia was regaining consciousness, but slowly. Jasper pressed his hands closer to her wound, which made her flinch.


    "It is imperative that the throng sets out, and lays waste to the enemy." Youthere had snuck his way into their little meeting. "The more spread out a goblin army, the less it can be hurt by a single champion."


    Will shook his head. "That''s not the- that''s not what we''re talking about. I mean what''s the point of having territory if they can just come to the Promise directly? He was here for mama."


    "Yeah, why was that?" Constantine asked.


    Scratch touched his upper arm, he still couldn''t speak, panting as he was.


    Constantine patted his back sympathetically.


    Youthere smiled. "Magic has helped his escape, but magic did not bring him here. It is the elven connection to the forest that allows the humans to pass by our defenses. I would have suggested a course of action that could lead to their extermination, but I fear that without elven prisoners, this will have to wait."


    "So exactly the worst thing possible happened." Ada complained. "We couldn''t kill the music guy and the elves ran away. That''s not f- that''s so unlucky!"


    "I suggest you grant me command of the army." The demon said. "I can inspire a campaign of cruelty that only the-"


    "Mama is the commander," Ada said, "and if she can''t do it I will. That''s what papa wants too, right papa?"


    "No." Scratch said weakly.


    "What!?"


    "I mean no to that other thing." He wound back an invisible tape recorder with his hand. "What you said before."


    "If we send them home they''ll kill us?"


    "No... that we''re unlucky. The truth is that we''ve been very lucky."


    "Yes." Jasper nodded. "Most of us survived."


    "N- Well that too."


    <hr>


    "They suspect nothing?" Lacrima asked.


    "We got lucky and didn''t have to stage anything, they got sprung themselves by a friend of theirs." Scratch said.


    "That is lucky." The piece of twine she was dangling from her fingers tugged slightly and she signaled to them to change direction.


    While most of the army was following Lydia and her subordinates to the edge of the territory, a small contingent had split off for a side mission within the forest.


    Two dozen lightly armored goblins, three hobgoblins, an anemic patriarch and a witch were making their way through brambles and undergrowth. There was no trodden path there, or any other sign of civilization for that matter.


    The hobgoblins were busy hacking a way and Scratch let himself be carried on a shield by the soldiers.


    Ada looked at the witch''s strange dowsing implement. A lock of hair was dangling from a string and pointing them the right way. "Is the elf''s hair cursed now or what?"


    "The elf is under my spell and his hair alongside. It''s sympathetic magic, now be quiet while I concentrate."


    "Sympathetic magic is when you touch a piece of someone you touch all of him," Constantine explained with a know-it-all tone. "So we can cast a spell on the prisoner to know where he is if we have his hair."


    "I can do that." Lacrima said, "straight on through here."


    "Shield." Will pulled the thatch shield out from under his father and held it in front of the witch.


    "Ah!" Scratch complained, as he fell onto the trampled thicket. "Did you see something?"


    "If they''re straight ahead that means they have a straight shot," he said.


    "So you made us panic and you didn''t even see anything." Ada complained.


    Will was in a mood to argue back. "They''re gonna see us before w-"


    He dashed forward and caught an arrow in the guard before it impaled her.


    He gave her the smuggest look possible.


    But when the arrow started hissing he threw the shield to the side, where it exploded into green fire.


    The goblins yelled out in rage and excitement.


    "Well? Get them." Scratch spurred the others to action. "Do that bird plan you had."


    The witch muttered a spell. Within an instant Ada and Constantine had become starlings and they flew over the thicket towards where the spell had come from.


    They had left their clothes and weapons behind, but as soon as they transformed they employed their teeth and nails.


    So much that when worked up goblin horde had made their way there the elven archer was missing certain key characteristics of a face.


    The siblings were grinning madly and covered in blood.


    "It''s a good thing your poor mother isn''t here to see this," Scratch threw them their clothes, "now cover up your junk before you give the old woman an aneurysm."


    The archer had kept guard in a well camouflaged hut against the side of an ancient tree. If the attackers hadn''t been in bird form there would have been no way to reach him without traversing a precarious wooden stair in full reach of his arrows.


    "I don''t think Lacrima would mind anybody being nude around her." Ada said as she pulled her tunic over her head.


    Scratch sighed. "Before you give me one."


    "Much obliged." Constantine bowed, clearly imitating something or someone.


    When Lacrima caught up she was too occupied with her magic to notice the corpse or indecency.


    "This is not right." She said.


    "What clued you in?" Scratch quipped.


    "The way is supposed to be straight, but every few paces my magic veers me to the right."


    "Ho ho, wait a minute. Your magic isn''t broken is it? I swear, if we''re lost in hostile territory during wartime..."


    "I think she means the elf is moving." Will said.


    "None of that. If you would just stop and listen to me..." she gestured at the trees surrounding them. "This is what you would call illusion magic, as delivered to the world by Vreem, god of knowledge. Anyone that would come here is led in a curved path around the hidden village, while believing they are traveling in a straight line."


    "So we could only come here because of your magic hair." Will said.


    "Exactly. Without towers or walls, they have constructed the perfect defense, only dowsing magic such as this can allow a stranger to know when their path is being warped."


    "Or, you know, any compass." Scratch laughed. "So you''re saying we''re close."


    "Nearly there. My goodness, now this old lady is getting excited as well. It''s been a good few decades since I''ve gone on an adventure myself.


    -


    The elves had not cleared a space in the forest of its trees in order to make space for their buildings.


    The trees provided the space for their buildings.


    When the family reached the long occulted civilization they saw a network of tree houses, connected via rope bridges, spanning up and down the trunks of three or so ancient oaks.


    "Stop thine advance at once." A young-ish elven girl spoke to them from the closest balcony, "Ye are in the sights of our magic archers. If I command it they will rain death upon ye. Now turn thine backs!"


    The hobgoblins froze in place. "Papa, what are we gonna do?"


    Scratch kept walking, "she''s bluffing, they would have attacked already. Block the exits."


    "No!" The elven girl panicked and, indeed, no death was rained upon anybody.


    The goblins ran around the grove and had a blast pulling on and destroying the various rope ladders leading up and down the tree village.


    One was preserved for the hobgoblins to climb up with.


    Within the connected canopy of bridges the hobgoblins clambered around and used magic to set fire to whatever neighboring branch or vine could conceivably be used to escape the town they had occupied.


    Their mad laughter alerted the elves after it was already too late.


    One came out clumsily trying to wield an enchanted bow, but he was tackled by Ada. She still had the blood of his slain comrade on her and she smeared it cruelly onto his face to disturb him.


    Then, once the exits had cut off, the horde of goblins was allowed to come in as well and chase the villagers.


    The only actual warriors in the whole village were the escaped prisoners on whose trail they''d gotten there. But they were able to surprise them in their beds and slit their throats.


    Showing their lack of foresight, they hadn''t brought enough rope to tie up all civilians, so they resorted to slashing a few tendons.


    All together there where thirty elves in the hidden village. They were stalled out together in the most central rope bridge the village could be said to have. A circular one around an open space.


    The orange light and cinders from the burning created an apocalyptic ambiance, and the elves screamed, threatened, and begged to make it even realer.


    "They really did send away all their archers..." Will remarked to his father. "Everybody here is so... weak..."


    "That''s what happens when you get overconfident," he said, "you take unnecessary risks."


    "No. They send out everybody because they want to kill us so much. This much."


    Scratch was silent.


    "Are going to kill them now?" Ada complained, "I hate this noise."


    "Noise? The cries for mercy?" Her father said, "yeah you never get used to it. Kill them quick and painless, I know that you know how to do it, no more of that goring shit."


    "Wait." Will said.


    Scratch pinched the bridge of his nose. "What?"


    "Can''t we... keep a few?" He glanced over the thigh of a plump elven woman, who recoiled in horror. "I mean, maybe we can get our own enchanted bows, you know?"


    Scratch laughed. "I see where your mind is going. You''re growing up aren''t you?"


    "I don''t get it." Ada said.


    "Your little brother wants a girl for himself."


    Will blushed.


    Ada''s eyes went big. "No way. You can''t make them broodmothers. You said it yourself, they hate us."


    "Before there were broodmothers there was snatching," Scratch explained, "I''d be a hypocrite if I said you couldn''t have one. Barbara was a kept woman once, and we traded someone even worse for her. But I have some experience here that I can share with you: prey on women without a support network, you don''t want any of your girls appearing on milk cartons or TV. Nobody whose parents can hire a lawyer."


    Will stared at him a good long time.


    "...Stick to lowlifes nobody is going to try and rescue. That''s what I''m saying."


    "Nobody has to know they''re still alive. We''re-" he turned to a whisper so the elves wouldn''t hear "-we''re gonna burn the village down anyway and we can keep them way below. Like, way below in the troll garden."


    "Am I going to have to go down and explain to the sweet old lady that we''re taking some spoils with us back home?"


    "Lacrima uses magic to control orphans! She has enslaved *us*."


    "And your mother?"


    "I swear if she asks we''ll kill them."


    "Fine. Pick a few, make sure there''s at least one bowyer with them. That''s your cover story after all."


    -


    If they had started slashing throats then and there the fear that kept the whole village bowing their heads would have become the sort of fear that spurred them to action instead.


    So they were led out of the central space one by one and killed by the entrance. Their bodies tossed off the side.


    That is, except for four elven women that had supposedly admitted to being manufacturers. All of them of fertile age.


    The witch wasn''t concerned with the sex slaves, but she objected to fire being set to the ancient trees. "You''re not destroying the site." She said, as she tugged on a burning branch one of the goblins was adding to the pyre at the roots. "It is a source of magic. This is where the wood for the enchanted bows are grown!"


    Scratch calmed her down. "Who grows it? We don''t. Do you care about magic you can''t wield? Because if we keep this place intact it just becomes something we have to defend from the other elves, just cost, no revenue."


    "Well... fine then. As a witch it hurts me, but fine. But turn me around, don''t make me stand and watch."


    -


    Someone else was running away from the fire, too distraught to even look back. The young girl that had first confronted the invaders.


    When the goblins had first started cutting off the exits, she was the only one who understood the situation early enough to escape unseen. Now it seemed she was the only survivor of her hometown.


    She had kept running, until the brambles tore up her dress and she sunk down on the painful underbrush.


    "Laurus..." she bawled. "Laurus your people are in ruin!"


    <hr>


    Warp


    Class: Mage


    Level: D


    Mages that have mastered this spell are able to transport themselves and their party to a warp circle they know. Warp circles must be intensely studied in order to be known, as each mosaic inscribes its own unique signature. Upon mastering the spell, a mage is able to return themselves and close allies to a warp circle within twenty kilometers of its surrounding wilderness. Upon honing the technique one can extend the distance traveled, although mana cost will continue to rise with distance and weight transported. Mages of rank B and higher have been known to traverse an entire continent using only a single warp spell.

 Demands

    "Linel? Where have you been man?" A few of the regular layabouts in the guild hall saw fit to pause their card game just to stare at the haggard guildmaster.


    "As you were," he muttered.


    After an unannounced disappearance under the cover of night, that had left the guild rudderless in crisis time. Yesterday he had made his return, three days after setting out. He had looked like a beaten dog then, and he looked like a beaten dog now. Not the best image for a new guildmaster that had yet to earn their trust.


    But in his office stood waiting an audience that he could afford to disappoint even less.


    The Liege''s twin enforcers. Brother and sister, aligned as much in their fashion as possible, even both wearing a single dangling earring in their left ear, but still easily differentiated by their gender.


    "You''ve taken steps you were not ordered to take."


    "Acted out on your own accord."


    "And failed."


    He leaned against his doorpost. "Can we not do this now? I''ve squeezed my mana twice yesterday, I had to drink a potion."


    A ghostly white hand appeared on his throat. He grasped at it, but his hands couldn''t touch it. It choked him and pulled him down until he fell to his knees, then it disappeared.


    It was one of the enforcers casting some unknown magic.


    "How dare you use dark sorcery in my-"


    The other kicked him in the ribs. "How dare *you* still breathe after what you did?"


    "Our sources tell us you were proudly invoking the name of your master during your attack." The first said.


    "Just now? How could you possibly know that?"


    He got kicked again.


    "We''ll be the ones asking questions."


    "You have revealed our ambitions to a rival family," the brother said.


    "turning a simple operation into a drawn-out, bloody conflict," the sister said.


    Neither of which were questions.


    "There would have been other opportunities to kill the goblin masters, but after today, my sister and I will no longer have safe passage into their home."


    "Have you the trust of the elves at least?"


    Linel rubbed his throat. "Yeah... the elves trust me. Eventually they''ll allow me into their village, I just need a little more time..."


    "Good. That buys you your life."


    "But we''re not leaving without giving you a small reminder of why you serve our Liege."


    The man ripped off Linel''s protective gear and pulled open his vest, exposing his bare chest.


    The woman put her hand on it. And after half a second of nothing it began to sizzle.


    "Nghaaah!" Linel dug his nails into his thighs from the pain.


    "Be silent." The man said.


    The skin and flesh under the burning hand began to bubble and pop. When the dark sorceress removed her hand it had left an imprint of violated flesh.


    "Goodbye."


    "Goodbye."


    The two enforcers left without any further care, leaving Linel gasping and sputtering on the floor.


    -


    "Linel! You''re back."


    Mildred appeared in his office while he was still on the floor feeling sorry for himself.


    "We received a bird. The goblin army started a push back last night while you were gone, they- are you hurt?"


    He buttoned up his vest. "Yes, no, just... what is it?"


    "By the time we set new quest targets the throngs will have already overrun our bases. Most of our members are hobbyists, they''ve stopped taking missions and are leaving the area. Half of the elven archers have been captured or killed as well. I think we... lost."


    "Lost?"


    "It became a war and we... lost it."


    *BAM*


    Linel had punched the wall.


    "H-hey!" She yelled at the property damage.


    "Tell Harkness we surrender."


    She looked at him.


    "Captain Harkness. I''m putting guild resources under the control of the knighthood."


    "Tell him yourself," she said, "I''m not your secretary."


    <hr>


    The outer territories were retaken with barely any resistance. And the broodmothers that had fled with their lives were able to return. But not all of them had survived the initial invasion and several goblin nests were left without mothers.


    When Lydia Harkness took control of the small forts the guild had placed in their forest, they lacked the adults to actually manage them.


    She took one of her sons aside to discuss it with him. "I want to leave it to a nest of goblins." She said to Jasper.


    "Just goblins?"


    "Do you know any?"


    He looked at the horde of green children running around and chasing each other. Now that there was nothing else left to do, they had dropped their weapons and started playing. "If it''s new kids, they won''t know what to do. If it''s old goblins, they''ll want to snatch up women from the farms."


    She nodded. "That''s what I was afraid of."


    "And..." he scratched his head, "you know there''s no stone or mill or farm here. So they can''t buy stuff."


    "We''d have to supply them. Like an actual fort. We don''t know if we have that budget."


    "But also, we don''t have enough money" Jasper said, not knowing the word ''budget'', "almost all gold belongs to the broodmothers. We''re not allowed to spend it, only invest it."


    "What''s the difference?"


    Jasper closed up. He didn''t really know what he was talking about, he was just repeating phrases.


    "It seems a waste. Not using a fortress when we''re at the cusp of war. But I suppose when you''re small. War is waged differently."


    Jasper peered over her shoulder, where Felix had joined the game of make-believe the goblins were playing by pretending to be the bard. "I''m playing my magic song, you all have to lie down."


    Bree was there punching him in slow motion, but the game sort of ignored her input.


    "You can go play." His mother said.


    He ran off to join them. "Underground bird attack! Flapflapflap!"


    "Noooo! All my powers are taken away! Aaaaah!"


    -


    "It is as I said, is it not?" The demon grinned at her from below, "you can take the land, but you cannot keep it."


    "We just need more women." She said. "More bandits from the continent."


    "Such things are in the future, at present time we must defend against retaliation. Fortunately, I am here to advise."


    She stubbornly refused to look at him. "What? Then."


    "The art of war is the art of deception. We are weak, so we must look strong. Only fully staff the prisoner camp, but set a guard and light a fire at every other base as well, when the humans come to reclaim their prisoners, they must fear our defenses."


    She crossed her arms in annoyance. "A skeleton crew in each fort? If they test even a single one..."


    "They won''t test it. Not while you have the lives of their precious youths in your hand."


    "Are you certain?"


    "Trust a demon of temptation to know the human mind."


    He reached for her thigh, but she kicked him. "Don''t touch me. Once this is over you will still answer for what you''ve done." She looked out over the forest, where a plume of smoke was already forming. "If it works out."


    <hr>


    Goblins do not send out their own messengers to ask for peace negotiation.


    Humans have the annoying tendency to kill goblins and other subhumans on sight.


    So the only way to notify the guildmaster was by releasing one of the young adventurers that had defended the bases and letting him return with a message.


    "Fifty-eight lives can be spared. Let today be the day that the borders are drawn. Suspend all attacks into our homeland, and your children will be returned to you."


    It was a short message, because it was not written down but memorized. Not one, but three young adventurers were released with orders to relay the message.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    It had been another scheme by Youthere. The released boys were originally from nearby farmsteads, and would likely visit their families before hiking on to Eston. With the words clearly on their mind they''d spread them around.


    This made the higher-ups less able to deny the proposition.


    Sacrificing fifty-eight prisoners for the sake of an unprofitable extermination was contentious at the best of time. But now it couldn''t even be dressed up in rhetoric and mythology.


    Even if they smelled weakness in the generosity of Lydia''s proposal, their hands would be tied.


    -


    But Eston made them wait.


    Five days they camped out in the camps.


    Five days they had to feed, warm, and bathe not just hundreds of goblins, but prisoners too.


    The elves had to be separated from the main glut. They were livid beyond reason at the very evident destruction of their home.


    On the third day Scratch joined the camp and had the hobgoblins turn back, to police the colonies and oversee the Promise, alongside half the army.


    "If we aren''t going to have a defensible army, we might as well have a cheap one." He said.


    The prisoners were now made to clean and repair their camp. There was grumbling, but most were glad to have the exercise, Harkness had made them sit still in the indoor area.


    Only after the fifth day did word come that the guildmaster wanted to negotiate.


    A trail of smoke alerted the scouts of a campfire, and at that campfire sat Linel.


    -


    Scratch arrived at the campfire alone.


    He had been part of peace negotiations many times, but only once in this world, and that had been with a knight. It had involved a tent, some pomp and some ceremony.


    But it was clear why Linel did not want to involve anybody else from the guild, "we''re gonna talk about this ''Liege'' business." Scratch said.


    "You wait until your master is here." Linel responded.


    "Nobody else is coming, and those two can show themselves as well."


    The twins appeared much closer than he had expected, the mud around the fire bubbled up into man-high pillars and birthed two dark sorcerers.


    "What do you mean, nobody else is coming?" The sister said.


    "Lydia Harkness must speak to us."


    "Yeah. See..." Scratch lit a blue grass cigar in the cinders, "...we didn''t want to make it too easy on ya. Or you might think your underworld hit is more important than your legit gig. So tonight Lydia and Lacrima are our designated survivors, you can''t snuff out the whole Promise in one go, sorry."


    Linel didn''t look mad, just tired, "do you know who the Liege is?"


    Scratch smiled. "Tall guy? White face? Horns maybe?"


    "Watch your tongue, goblin," the sorceress hissed, "none know the face of our master but us."


    "The thieves'' guild isn''t run by monsters," Linel said, "the Liege is a man, and you''d know if I were lieing."


    Cyclophan did confirm that Linel spoke the truth, or that he thought he did in any case.


    "Eston''s guild only exists with the consent of the Liege," the sorcerer insisted, "all thieves'' guilds do. That consent can be withdrawn at any time."


    "To get to the point, I''m not here to snuff everybody out in one go." Linel sighed. "We humans care about the lives of our people, so I will give in.


    Your evil god can verify these words: we will no longer use Adventurer Quests to attack the Promise. That is, if you return the prisoners to me."


    Cyclophan verified the truthfulness of the promise, but did make note of the specificity of the wording."


    "Ah, but you''ll use other methods then."


    "Do we have a deal or not?"


    "We do, but..." he eyed the dark sorcerers, "I won''t be able to fulfill my end of the bargain if get hurt. You realize that."


    "You have safe passage." The sorceress grunted, extinguishing the dark flame she had been playing with threateningly.


    That concluded the negotiation, yet Scratch didn''t show any intention of leaving. "What do you want the dungeon for anyway?"


    "We are commanded to seize all powerful magic for our Liege," the brother said.


    "There is nothing more powerful than a dungeon," the sister said, "it *will* belong to us."


    "Fuck. No room for compromise there then."


    "Fuck indeed."


    "How many elven archers are in Eston right now?"


    "A few."


    "But not many?"


    "You have promised to return all captured elves to us."


    Scratch nodded. "Yes, but not with their weapons."


    "Well," Linel chuckled, "I can not be held accountable if they re-make their enchanted bows."


    This indicated to Scratch that he did not yet know about the destroyed village.


    The sorceress suck out her hand and the hand print under the guildmaster''s vest began to glow, he screamed and doubled over in pain.


    "Return to your pathetic army," she said to Scratch, "release his pathetic comrades, but do not consider yourself safe."


    "The shards of the second segment will belong to us, sooner or later." The brother said.


    "Now go!"


    Not wanting to try them any further, but with as much dignity as he could, Scratch retreated out of sight and returned to the camp.


    <hr>


    "Bastards. So they couldn''t even promise not to keep killing us." Lydia complained.


    "The adventurers'' guild is on the hook for the hostages, but the thieves'' guild isn''t." Scratch said sagely, "we can be happy we took even just this one avenue away."


    "But how can we-"


    "We''ll be handling this like the business dispute it is."


    It was clear that Scratch had a plan, but it''d have to wait. The whole day they were pre-occupied with the various movements of various people.


    The hostages had to be released in shifts.


    All together they were an army unto themselves and it wasn''t out of the question that they''d pick up weapons somewhere and turn straight around, so they were let go spread out over the forest where they could meander their way into the human farmsteads in groups of fifteen to twenty at a time.


    Most of the goblin army had home colonies to return to, and they were split up into convoys with different destinations. However, nearly a third missed their convoy, or didn''t have one due to their brood mother having been killed. So the family ended up taking a large retinue with them back to the Promise.


    A portion of them broke off from the group to join other colonies or leave to live in the wilds.


    Still, more than a hundred lost goblins ended up being added to the Promise''s lively population.


    -


    Lydia tried to take on an active role in giving them a place, but Barbara took charge, and Scratch gestured for her to follow him downstairs.


    Underneath the Promise, underneath the basement, and the forge, was the troll garden.


    A rickety rope ladder now let not just trolls, but humans and goblins enter and leave as they pleased. Which opened the door to more ambitious construction.


    The dry desert where they had fought the cactipod had been transformed by Grienician engineering.


    The sunstone that evaporated all liquid in its sight had been partially blocked off, a canopy of wooden beams and ivy was bolted to the ceiling of the underworld, and cast a spotted shade onto their corner of it. Just less than a football field in acreage.


    As a result, a thin stream of water lapped over the vertical stone and onto the sand. It was a tiny river, though it had to fade away where the protective shade ended.


    And where the river streamed, plants could grow.


    The seedlings and root balls of surface plants, planted by goblins, were already peeking out of the dry sand and coloring the garden with a dark-ish green.


    Trolls were strolling peacefully through the greenery. The garden was cool and pleasant, and they were used to the non-trolls by now.


    "Ey, ey!" Aimone came up to Scratch as they entered the garden. "Swampgras? Why are you having us carry clumps of useless plants down your deathtrap?"


    "Your colleague, the minister of agriculture, has given us a five step crop cycle." Scratch told him. "First we grow grass, to get some biomass on the topsoil. After that something with magic flowers or something, and then we start portioning it up."


    "If it''s fertilizer you want, you''ll have enough of it," Aimone pointed at the meager waterfall, "we''re directing the sewage of ten goblin nests into this place."


    "Oh... ew. I though the slimes ate that stuff."


    "Mannagia, they don''t turn it into water! Slime runoff is the purest extract of detritus. It''s poisonous to drink, and with your little stunt expanding the sewers, it has nearly contaminated the drinking water piu volte."


    "Okay, calm down. Tell me what you need."


    "What?"


    "Tell me what you need to save the water supply, you have an idea, don''t you?"


    "We would need... three basins. Sedimentation, filtration, and disinfection. But there''s no space for anything like that."


    "We''ll make the space. You''re the minister of waterworks Aimone, you have hundreds of goblins at your command, not to mention magic. Use them."


    "Pah," Aimone found something to complain about, "minister. You simply decided this. In Grienice, the people decide such things."


    "...You vote for individual ministers?"


    "Ye- Well no, but... forget it. *Puta*." He turned away from him and focused on the foliage.


    Scratch didn''t mind him, "look," he said to Lydia, "that''s where we''re keeping the... uh...."


    "Spoils." She said.


    "Sure, the winnings."


    -


    Elven women were kept there, in the trolls garden.


    There were no bars or bindings, there wasn''t even a fence. Just the beginnings of a home, elevated floorboards and a framework for the walls and roof.


    After all, where could they run? Not into the endless desert, not up the rope ladder into the dungeon.


    It was a prison without walls.


    They didn''t need much guarding either, yet all the male hobgoblins surrounded them.


    "But we can spar later, I can show you how to..." Piers said to a woman that was clearly trying to turn away from him.


    "No, I was going to teach her." Constantine whined.


    "Boys, too early." Scratch broke them up, "you don''t want to look needy."


    Piers was a tad embarrassed. "W-what do you mean we were just talking."


    "Prisoners. Line up." The mother commanded.


    "I love your strict voice," Scratch whispered.


    "Oh shush." She said through a smile.


    The prisoners were obedient to the superior force, and a bit relieved to see a woman in power.


    They lined up in a row of six like soldiers. Tattered clothes, messy hair, and eyes that had been crying. But their backs were straight, their poise dignified.


    "When I point at you. You state your name. Do you understand?"


    "..."


    "I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?"


    "We understand, ma''am." An elf with lock blond hair said with disdain.


    "Good." She began to point.


    "Farith"


    "Albwynn"


    "Pecorath"


    "Thryst"


    "Leandrel"


    "Liorin"


    Each one of them was called something complicated and ostentatious. The more mature long haired elf was Farith, the others had less wisdom in the eyes, with Liorin seeming the most innocent.


    "These names... I''ll need to write them down." Lydia complained.


    "I''ve got it in here," Scratch pointed at his skull, "the goblin brain isn''t good for much, but it''s good for this."


    "That''s fine then... elves. Do you know why you are here?"


    "To become brood mares for thine damned subhuman army, is that it?" Leandrel cried, "thee lost Fiora and now thee''ll use *us*!"


    Lydia slapped her, "who''s Fiora?" She asked.


    "We''re not the first nest to bag an elf," Scratch laughed, "it''s been less than two years since we cleared out the others. But I don''t expect the hidden village to differentiate between us."


    "Ma''am, please let us go." Liorin begged, "you don''t understand, these creatures use women to procreate. We are elves, they will use our strength to fortify their army and overrun the countryside!"


    "That''s cute." Scratch commanded.


    "These," Lydia gestured towards the boys, "are my sons."


    Liorin recoiled.


    "I am here to ask you to bed them. However. I will not force your hand. Those that volunteer may become part of our family at any time."


    The elves waited for her to continue with clenched teeth. But no twist or trick was forthcoming.


    "...that''s it." She concluded after noticing the anticipation.


    "What!?"


    "Never!"


    "I''d rather die! I''d rather die right now!"


    Scratch pulled on his partner''s arm and they turned away from the group. "They do need some sort of incentive, you know," he hissed, "there has to be a benefit."


    "Can you offer them anything?" She asked.


    "We can''t let them keep the offspring like for the broodmothers... What do knights to if they want someone to switch sides?"


    Lydia thought for a moment and then turned around. "SILENCE!"


    The protesting elves fell quiet.


    "This place is your new home. You might feel exposed by the house we gave you. You might feel unfulfilled by the food we give you. But you can earn a better living by joining our family. Not just for yourself. But for each other."


    Farith narrowed her eyes. "So we can earn privileges by convincing our brethren to submit."


    "Or we can help our brethren by submitting." Liorin added.


    "That''s it. I will now command my children to leave you alone. Reflect on this offer. We will contact you soon enough."


    "Do we have to?" Constantine whined.


    "You have to. Come on." She gestured at him to follow here, and all the male hobgoblins left reluctantly.


    Ada and Bree were waiting halfway to the entrance. Ada looked annoyed.


    "Why are you so interested in them?" She said when they had caught up to her. "They even do anything. They just whine."


    "But they look-" Will changed his mind halfway through explaining. "I don''t know either.


    When they had traveled all the way back to the manor Scratch was surprised by the setting sun.


    "Ah! You really lose track of time with those glowing rocks. I need to be somewhere. Bree, you were coming?"


    "Yes!" The troll jumped up and down.


    "Where are you going?" Ada asked.


    "Taking care of business."


    <hr>


    The adventurers felt stiff and uncomfortable, having to line up and wait for a superior wasn''t their usual style.


    Captain Harkness cracked his neck and began to speak. "Starting today you will be working under me. I don''t put up quests. I hand out orders.


    And orders are followed. Starting today you are no longer adventurers. You are soldiers. Do you understand?"


    "Mhm."


    "Sure."


    "Think so."


    "I said: DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?"


    "Sir. Yes, Sir."


    The staff of the Eston adventurers'' guild was competent enough in battle, but they lacked in discipline.


    He would make soldiers of them yet, and once he did, they would be able to assist the young barony heirs as the army''s special forces.


    He turned to the ostentatiously dressed man beside him and bowed his head. "Two months, mi lord, and I can supply you with the forces to eradicate this stain on your territory."


    "Hmm. Do not forget who is doing whom a favor here, Harkness. I would not have called for wyverns if it did not concern a matter of family honor."


    "Of course milord. Forgive me."


    "You are forgiven," the count said, "it was time this place was put under the control of a baron." He stroked the winged deer on his brouche, "and this guild has failed to provide me one. So my vassals'' chosen will be the candidates, this little war of yours the test."


    "Then... this will be a proving?"


    "Of course it will, don''t be daft man, that''s what I just described isn''t it?"


    <hr>


    The Ancient Waterways


    Size: Small


    Threat Level: E


    Realm: Blurich


    The ancient sewers underneath Old Finsterlein are rife with slimes.


    Adventurers may encounter regular slimes, king slimes, and poison slimes.


    Sewer halls may be subject to flooding.


    Maps can be purchased at the guild hall, but may not be resold.

 Ready, Set...

    The captain of the Roving Mare sat patiently on the comfortable chair in his quarters.


    He was whittling a stick of wood.


    "You''re gonna have to find a new spot next time, Lucky," he told his visitor. "We''re setting off to the other realm tomorrow."


    The thieves guild associate didn''t immediately respond. The use of the nickname put him off balance.


    It was the code by which the goblin had called him.


    "Maybe there won''t be a next time."


    "Oh I''m thinking there will."


    -


    They sat there for twenty more minutes.


    The captain in his comfortable chair, the alchemist on his thin mat, enduring the gentle swaying of the tide in silence.


    Only then did the envoy from the Promise arrive.


    "There there, out from the rain and into the bowels of the ship. Any place to hang my hat?" Scratch sauntered in with pep and confidence, but he had circles under his eyes.


    The captain jumped up from his chair when the goblin was followed into the room by a fully grown troll, outfitted in steel and leather. "Arr!"


    "Oh Heaven''s Mercy!" The alchemist crawled backwards over the wooden floor and against the back of the room.


    "Your sailors were just like that," Scratch said, "I must be more imposing than usual."


    "I-I think it''s because of me." Bree said, as she unbuckled the treasure chest from her person and lowered it to the floor.


    "I know honey."


    The captain took a deep breath to collect himself and then began to laugh. "A goblin and a troll coming to collect interest! There''s a story, for sure."


    Scratch nodded. "Lucky Winner, if you could get out of your corner, we can start the talks."


    Lucky clutched his satchel with gold. He didn''t dare approach them, so he took out some coin and held it up with a trembling hand.


    Scratch rolled his eyes and gestured at Bree with a cigarette.


    She reached out with her long arm and wrapped her enormous hand around the young man''s ankle, dragging him across the room and depositing him back on the mat.


    "I see you have our share." The patriarch lit his smoke on a caged flame.


    "H-here you go."


    "The real share Lucky. You know I don''t own that gold, I manage it for the poor mothers of the forest. Would you let anybody steal from your mother?"


    "I don''t know what you''re talking ab-"


    "I''m counting the silver you''re slipping into your pocket every night too. You owe me eight percent on that as well."


    The ship provided the scale to weigh the precious metal. Eventually the young man could shake enough change out of his pocket to satisfy what Scratch believed he was owed.


    By that time the rain had stopped and Bree had curled up to take a nap.


    Scratch and Lucky Winner had gotten to discussing business.


    "Business is going fine, but the gold noses got long fingers, is that the long and short of it?" He asked.


    "If you mean that Mac and his branch are trying to get their hands on it... yes." Lucky admitted.


    He he had given up on lying, the goblin could see through everything.


    "Mac thinks he can shut you down, but you and I both know the poor sods in your barn aren''t going to give up on their oblivion so easy, are they?"


    Lucky glanced at the troll. "But still... you have to protect me! I''m the only one that can brew the Crimson you know. Mac''s goons will definitely kill me if I don''t pick his side. Who controls the shadow bandits? Can''t you contact them for me? As bodyguards."


    "Listen here..." Scratch put the money to the side and put his hands flat on the floor. "There are three degrees of organized crime, right?"


    "Huh?"


    "The most basic form is called Vice. You''re familiar with it. Some gambling, fencing nicked items, selling alcohol without a license... barely even crimes if you ask me. That''s our Mac, isn''t it?"


    Lucky Winner didn''t say anything, he waited patiently for the story to lead somewhere.


    "Then there''s what you do, which I call Disruption. Getting kids hooked on drugs, robbery, human trafficking. These things disrupt the perfect vision of our lords and masters, they get in the way. So more work is needed to defend yourself."


    "And the last degree?"


    "Sedition. The kinds of crime that require the highest amount of planning. Smuggling military grade weapons, major acts of terrorism, laundering money from hostile foreign powers. That''s what the shadow bandits are, that''s who their Liege is."


    The captain injected himself into the conversation. "The shadow bandits? I''ve caught a glimpse of those. Dark sorcery. Your little friend is not exaggerating, they''re on the side of chaos."


    Scratch looked him in the eye, then he continued his exposition, now addressing both of them. "If there''s anything I know, it''s power. That''s how I know the paramilitary adventurers can''t exist in the same place as the mafia without mixing. That''s also how I know a major crime ring like the


    Liege''s doesn''t let smaller operations go unregulated. Drug traders take over the speakeasies, terrorists take over the drug trade, that''s how it goes."


    "So Mac has the blessing of this Liege of shadow bandits when he threatens to burn down the barn..." Lucky winner said.


    Scratch shook his head. "Worse, it''s his idea. Without Lacrima to balance the scale of power, he figures he can take over the whole town."


    "Then nobody can protect me..."


    "You move your business to the street corners like I told you from the beginning. Keep stringing Mac along for now, you''ll meet a new ally tomorrow, and receive further instructions."


    After that they said there goodbyes and the captain of the Roving Mare would have to tell an unfinished story in the southern countries.


    <hr>


    The row boat bumped ungraciously against the wooden struts of the underground harbor, waking the goblin up.


    He cursed.


    It''d been half an hour since the talk with Lucky Winner and two days since he had had a good night''s rest.


    "S-sorry." Bree apologized to her adoptive father.


    He was too groggy to even put her at ease.


    They climbed the wooden docks onto the underground trading village as the sun was coming up behind them.


    If Scratch hadn''t been expected by his lover up on the surface he would have crawled in one of the wooden structures then and there to fall asleep. As it stood he still had a long walk ahead of him.


    "You going downside?" He asked Bree.


    She nodded. "The trolls... none of them are..."


    "Hm?"


    "Ah, no, nothing."


    They were planning to walk further into the cave, but a small messenger appeared.


    One of Barbara''s goblins, wearing a bespoke multi-colour uniform with a feathered cap.


    "Papa Scratch has to come see the witch."


    He passed him by, "yeah maybe tomorrow buddy."


    "No you have to." The goblin pulled on his arm, and was almost squished by Bree in return. "You have to," he still insisted.


    -


    The ancient woman stood outside her mostly decorative house on the harbor, tapping her feet, when the patriarch arrived.


    "Can we do this later?" He asked, "you know I''ve been with the last batch in the forest."


    "You would keep a goddess waiting?" She spat.


    There fell a silence between them.


    "Developed a bit of an ego, have ya?" Scratch quipped.


    "Ugh, come with me." She grabbed him by the hair and dragged him inside. "Stay," she told the troll that was about to follow.


    Lacrima''s abode had gone through an evolution since it had first been established, and it nearly looked like the interior of a real house.


    But in the back a significant amount of space was dedicated to a life-size statue of a woman.


    The figure was matte gray stone, not locally sourced, generically beautiful in a cowl and holding an orb and a staff.


    When Scratch was thrown in front of it, it began to move.


    You may bow your head. The statue said.


    Next to Scratch, Lacrima was already touching her forehead to the floor.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Before you stands I, the statue continued, Guth, goddess of magic and misstress of the mystic arts. Lacrima, have you brought me the hero we spoke of?


    "My goddess! This is Papa Scratch, my servant in-"


    Leave us


    "Yes."


    The witch stood up and walked backwards, out of the small building.


    "Never seen her this grovel-y." Scratch stood up and began to inspect the base of the statue.


    She is my follower. Her life is dedicated to service of- what are you doing?


    "Sorry, just checking. So you''re some kind of stone woman?


    I am a goddess. This statue is merely based on my appearance, allowing me to inhabit it and speak to my followers.


    "Wow."


    It''s considered a huge honor.


    "Yeah, no, wow."


    The statue sighed. You are an old soul, are you not?


    Scratch blinked. "Yeah... who told you that?"


    As a goddess, I am-


    "You didn''t know my face."


    ...Benesant told me.


    He recoiled.


    Be at ease. I do have more pride than to squash her bugs for her.


    "What do you want from me exactly?"


    Scratch. You are a beast of the earth. A weak, ineffectual subhuman. Vulnerable to the simpelest magic.


    With each descriptor his brow furrowed deeper. "Yeah, so what?"


    So you will be destroyed by Benesant''s kingdoms. Your mistress has prayed for you, and I am considering answering her prayers.


    "Who?"


    Lacrima. But I can see you have no loyalty towards her, so I will make my blessing conditional on your service.... Scratch!


    "Y-yeah?"


    Use the powers inherited by Benesant''s reincarnation, and grant upon my servant Lacrima the lands of fairy. If you do, I shall grant your goblins my blessing, so that they will not fail against the magic of Reddington.


    "Powers? What powers?"


    There must be something that has brought this kingdom about? Expand it.


    "Ummm."


    I have spoken!


    The goddess uprighted herself and the statue returned to its inanimate state once more.


    "Scratch. What happened?" Lacrima burst in to ask.


    "I dunno, I''m so sleep deprived.... I was hallucinating seeing a talking statue the whole time."


    -


    When Scratch returned to the Promise, Youthere was was trapped in a steel cage.


    The prison was still under construction. And the cage could be displayed in full view on top of the boarded up well, so there would be no covert escape.


    "Is this a new hobby of yours?" The father asked as he walked in on the mother securing the box to the ground.


    "He tried to kill you." Lydia said.


    "No, actually, he tried to have me kill Second." Scratch said.


    "I much prefer being tied up." Youthere said.


    "Shut up." They both said.


    Scratch sighed. "Listen, we both haven''t slept for forty eight hours now. Let''s go to bed."


    "Don''t you think your familiar ought to be punished?"


    "You know I don''t believe in punishment."


    "What if he does it again?"


    "Yes master," Youthere grinned, "what if do it again? Perhaps some pain will put me straight..."


    "If we think he''ll do it again, just kill him." Scratch said.


    "What?" Lydia asked.


    "W-wait. Master, I served in your war, didn''t I?" Youthere sputtered.


    Scratch had already taken control of his left hand and it was gripping his face, the nail of the thumb pushing into his eye.


    "You did, and now I don''t need you anymore."


    "HaHAha, you do! There are still battles to be fought!" The demon laughed panickingly.


    "Wait, Scratch. You''re killing him." Lydia grabbed him.


    "I''m not turning my square into a torture palace in the vain hope of changing human nature. We only kept him around for necessity in the first place. He clearly has an agenda."


    A trickle of blood began to form around the demon''s eye as his own hand was digging into his skull.


    "Then first. Find out what his agenda *is*." She pleaded.


    Youthere''s hand let go, and he sunk to his knees.


    "Fine, but some skepticism please. He''s strung me along far enough, I got him on as a warrior at first, but he was no good at that. Then he promised to give me power, but that was a poison. Now he''s been helping with the colonies, but every time I''ve followed his advice I ended up having to micro-manage them more and more. There''s a hidden cost each time."


    Youthere''s face was one giant grin. His good and bleeding eye were both hidden under his hair and he looked as untouched as ever. "Master!


    My agenda is only to serve evil and wickedness in all its forms, you know this."


    His hand rose again.


    "No! You misunderstand! That''s you! My purpose is to serve *your* wickedness."


    "We are not wicked." Lydia insisted, "we are just fighting to survive in-"


    "Lyds." Scratch stopped her.


    "My master knows the truth," Youthere licked his lips, "we follow an *evil* god to expand the powers of an *evil* race using *evil* methods."


    "There''s no such thing as good and evil." Scratch said, "these are just narratives invented for the sake of control."


    "Come now master~," Youthere said, "you wield the suffering of others like a tool. You place yourself and your needs above them. You are as evil as they come... and I love you for this!"


    "And how does this lead to a tiny goblin engineer having to die?"


    Youthere''s smile dampened a bit. "Your flower of evil has not yet blossomed, your brother''s influence is holding you back. Oh master, you must understand, I only wanted you for myself!"


    "I changed my mind." Lydia said. "Kill him."


    "Flower of evil? What are you talking about?"


    "I serve you as a familiar, but other demons serve other masters. Yet, we are all searching for one master, the demon king! Only a being that has sworn of all good and does only evil can unite all demonkind into an unstoppable army of darkness. Scratch, I believe you can become the next demon king and take over the world. You merely have to cast aside your last vestiges of kindness and duty, and embrace evil!"


    Youthere held out his arm as if offering to officiate a pledge right then and there.


    "Scratch, don''t do it!" Lydia exclaimed with uncharacteristic pathos.


    Scratch looked annoyed at the both of them. "This is incredibly stupid. Your whole reverse morality persona is insane, and you are insane for believing him."


    "Master, I know that I can convince you of the power of evil. Just give me one more chance."


    "Why would I do that?"


    "Because the knights of Reddington wield the power of good, and they aim to destroy you, even now. I have seen the inside of your mind, you believe the power of money controls everything, but I know the strength of their conviction. Only I can stop them."


    "You think think conviction trumps resources?" Scratch scoffed. "I suppose they''ll take back Eston by wanting it really badly."


    "You do not control Eston yet..." the demon teased.


    "How about you stay in there and I show it to you?" Scratch said, "in three months I''ll put an end to this whole situation, and I''ll do it my way."


    "If that happens, I vow that I will be the first demon to abandon the path of evil and follow the path of money," Youthere said playfully solemnly.


    "But in the meantime, I will be here to provide an escape. A path to a greater evil."


    Scratch held up three fingers. "Three months." Then he turned around to go inside.


    "We let him live?" Lydia asked.


    "He can''t do any more harm in there."


    -


    There was so much to think about and very little brainpower to do it with, once they were upstairs Scratch basically crawled into the linen.


    "Scratchie, you don''t really follow an evil god, do you?" Lydia asked while undressing.


    "No, no... it''s more like we have an agreement."


    She looked troubled by his answer, but they were both too tired to talk. She joined him and they soon drifted into unconsciousness.


    It seemed to him that he had barely closed his eyes when suddenly the gentle sounds of nature where snuffed out by an ominous wind.


    Outside the window it seemed the inky black smoke of the Ravenous Lich had once again encircled the mansion, and the man himself stood imposingly in the courtyard.


    "You stay here, I''ll go talk to him," Scratch told Lydia, and she was tired enough to obey. If not asleep already.


    Minutes later the small goblin was outside in a hastily tied robe, walking up to the towering lich.


    "Yeah, you want something?"


    "And I did make so sure to arrive in daylight this time..." Ritter waved a wax sealed letter about, "... I received your correspondence."


    "No you didn''t, I send that thing out yesterday."


    The lich cocked his head. "Yes? Oh I see, my familiar is quite a bit faster than the average bird you see."


    "Master, please," Youthere pleaded from his cage, "the Ravenous Lich is a dark sorcerer of unimaginable power. Do not presume his limits, or he might devour you for your insolence."


    Ritter waved his hands. "It''s quite alright. It is the contents of your letter that disturb me, you say this ''Liege'' has mentioned the second segment. Are you certain that was the wording he used? There can be no misunderstanding?"


    "Yes, I mean no, no misunderstanding." Scratch rubbed his eyes, it was easy to forget how tall the cow skull stood, taller than any man.


    Standing in front of him now, he seemed as real as the goddess had. "What do you want?"


    "If you are under assault from enemies that know what the wyrm segments are, I am afraid I must take a more personal interest in this dungeon.


    I shall begin by leading an army of the dead unto Eston, so all shall know the second segment is under my protection."


    "Sure... wait no!" Suddenly he was wide awake. "No you can''t do that. We have allies there."


    "You have enemies too."


    "Not for long. The liege isn''t in Eston, okay? I''m not even sure it''s one guy. It''s this big... multi-city conglomerate. You necro-bomb Eston you just give the suits a reason do to his dirty work for him."


    "You still believe you can secure secure this region without attracting further aggression."


    "I do, yes. Yes. Yes I do."


    The lich played with the ring piercing his horn, "why should I trust you?"


    "I mean... what skin do you have in the game?"


    "What sk- Hahaha!" The monster''s laugh sounded unnatural, like a low fidelity speaker. "Indeed! You have one year Papa Scratch."


    "One year for what?"


    "One year to find and eliminate this ''Liege'' character. If you cannot do that, I''m afraid I must take the defense of your realm unto myself. And that will involve ''necrobamming'' the surrounding lands, to my regret."


    He bowed and evaporated into smoke.


    Within seconds the dark magic surged away into the clouds, and any proof that he had ever been there was gone.


    Scratch blinked. "But what''s a wyrm segment?"


    Youthere raised his shoulders and threw up his hands.


    -


    The next morning Will walked in on Scratch staring intently at his hand during breakfast.


    "What''s going on?"


    "I have a string tied around my pinky. Must have tied it yesterday."


    "Yeah?"


    "That means I have something that I needed to do. But yesterday''s a blur, I don''t remember anything."


    "What we need to do is get that elf girl to talk back to me."


    "Did you remember her name?"


    Will slapped the table. "That''s a good idea!"


    <hr>


    "Sorry for the wait, here''s your guild card."


    "It was about ti- I mean thank you very much milady." Sebastian Tanner gave the guild woman a polite smile through his disdain for her inferior blood.


    She must have detected a hint of his hidden sentiments, because she quickly turned her back to him and left him at his table.


    "Pull it together Tanner, a baron''s son should know how to make connections," he whispered to himself while reading his card.


    Rank C. At least his birth allowed him to skip the pointless grind of having to prove himself. But he still had a long way to go compared to more martially focused houses.


    "Hey!" A random stranger bumped into him and looked at his card, "are you new? What class did you get? Duelist, huh? Wha- rank C? You''re a baron?"


    "Don''t touch me you filthy peasant." Sebastian shoved him off.


    He went back to thinking to himself as he left the guild house. *I should make sure to get on the adventurers'' good side.*


    -


    After leaving the adventurers'' guild he walked in a straight path to Katia''s hidden black market shop.


    She opened up a little window in her door and immediately recognized him. "Lord Tanner? What''s your business here?"


    He corrected her, "a baron''s son isn''t a lord. I am not addressed that way except by subversive that want to mock my status."


    "I know that."


    "Hrm..." he grumbled, "you''re gonna let me in?"


    "Tell me your business."


    "I''m here to *buy* something. You think I''d do that pretender''s dirty work?"


    A latch was unlocked and she opened the door.


    He couldn''t help but notice a scar on her neck. Some sort of magical energy had taken a bite out of her.


    "Now then," he stepped into the small back ally shop, "what do you have for a rank C duelist?"


    She snickered, "You? An adventurer? The Roving Mare not paying as much as it used to? Or is the Tanner house doing even worse than I thought?"


    His eyes shot daggers at her, "Be serious. You''re part of the Thieves'' Guild. You must have heard the secrets spread ''round. Dichtershire is going to be instigate a proving this summer. I need to be prepared."


    "And you think becoming an *adventurer* is the way to do that."


    "Why not? I will be able to practice my combat, and make friends with the footfolk that will be supporting the candidates. I''ll be sure to distinguish myself."


    She took him in from head to toe, clearly not impressed.


    "Or would you prefer one of Linel''s favorites gets the title?" He said.


    That convinced her. She held up two fingers, "wait right here, I''ve got just the thing."


    She was gone for only a few seconds and came back with a shiny steel epee.


    "Cursed goblin steel." She said.


    His eyebrows went up. "From the very creatures we''re supposed to eradicate."


    She nodded. "If you become Baron of the Eston area, you can reclaim the forges for our side."


    "Anything special about it?"


    "Well it''s steel, which means it''s basically indestructible with this thickness. Adventurers aren''t actually supposed to carry steel you know, it''s a superior weapon that''s used in actual warfare."


    He agreed absentmindedly, "and beyond that?"


    "A curse of weakness. Once you get a stab in, you force your enemy to the ground, no matter where you hit."


    "Perfect. I''ll take it."


    He deposited an oversized sack of gold on her counter and she began to greedily rake in currency.


    "Don''t show it off inside the city," she insisted, "we don''t want certain people catching a glimpse of it."


    "I won''t, I won''t," he said dismissively. He would break this promise in less then a week.


    <hr>


    Weapon Grade


    Members of the adventurers'' guild are licensed to purchase and carry any equipment approved for their class.


    However, rare and special weapons may carry additional requirements.


    Any weapon with steel components is automatically given the grade Steel. Steel weapons may only be used by members of the military and adventurers of rank B and above.


    Magical weapons deemed of sufficient power by a royally sanctioned trader are given the Mythril grade. Mythril weapons may only be wielded by adventurers of rank A and above.


    There is one more grade above mythril. This includes only divinely crafted weapons of legend, which are used to slay demon kings. The Miracle grade.


    The Sword of Light, Staff of Infinity, and the Burning Eye are all Miracle grade weapons, and may only be wielded by a rank S adventurer, should they appear.

 Unsupervised Children

    "Where''s my apprentice? That''s what I would like to know!" The alchemist spat on the floor of his own shop. "Took that boy in like he was my own son, I did. Just up and disappears one day, the ingrate. What are ya? Loan sharks?"


    "Not loan sharks no," the armed individual smirked, "quite the opposite in fact. We''re with the army."


    Usury was illegal in most counties.


    "When was the last time you saw your apprentice?"


    "Oh, I''unno... last week? And that''s former apprentice. He''d been shirking all month. Now suddenly, everybody wants to know about him. What''s all this about?"


    "Just keeping abreast of things, sir. Who else has asked you about this?"


    "Huh? Some local kids. That George from the stables. He kept talking about a barn being cleared out, I told him I didn''t know about any barn.


    Are we done? I have actual work to do, and I no longer have an assistant."


    "Just one more thing. What would you say this is?" The knight held up an attractive looking flask of clear liquid with golden flakes glittering inside.


    "I don''t know... I would have to run some tests."


    "Please do... we will come back tomorrow."


    The flask was pressed in the alchemist''s hand as he grumbled about being made to do unpaid work, and the knights moved on with their patrol.


    -


    Twenty minutes later they were standing in front of the horse stable asking for a George.


    "George? Don''t get me started on George," the woman sweeping the curb said, "a drunk and a gambler. At that age! Useless. So many times visitors have come to our town, finding nobody here to take in their horses! You know the new owner isn''t going to let him carry on like this, no sir."


    "So George is absent a lot."


    She sputtered. "You could say that again. Doing dirty work for the thieves'' guild, that''s what I suspect. Don''t tell anybody I said that though."


    "Has he been here recently?"


    "What do I look like, a sentry?" She became slightly angry. "I''m not out here sweeping at every hour you know. How should I know?"


    "What do you make of this Fiona?" The lead investigator asked his sister.


    "James, can you just keep your cool for once? We''re glorified town guards, okay? There''s no conspiracy that needs to be solved."


    "There''s more to this, I''m convinced. This town hasn''t seen blood spilled within its walls for three years, now eight commoners have disappeared in one month. There must be something going on with the thieves'' guild, a cleansing, a secret war, something."


    "Or they ventured outside the walls at night and were dragged away by monsters, like what happens all the time in every city in all the four kingdoms. Just..."


    "Just what?"


    "Don''t piss the captain off any further, please. I don''t know what job he can give us that''s worse than this, but he''ll make up something."


    "...Yeah."


    -


    As it happened, George was sitting in an underground speakeasy less than a mile away.


    Normally he would come here to skip work and gamble away his income on the roulette.


    Today he wasn''t gambling however, he was watching others play while nervously smoking a cigarette. Anxiously awaiting being called in by the guild leader.


    Today they were supposed to have a conversation with the young alchemist. And it began to strongly look like he wouldn''t show.


    Likely, Mac would hold him responsible.


    "Sour face huh?" One of the gamblers laughed, "you must have gotten on the bad side of sweet crimson."


    "What? The stuff they sell at the barn?" Another asked.


    "Yeah man, if you stop taking it you get all sick. Dry mouth, jitters... just a rotten feeling. It''s real."


    "The more I hear about it the more it just sounds like bitter crimson with sugar."


    "Anyway," the first turned to George, "if you''re looking to get it back, I can hook you up."


    "You can hook me up?" George threw his cigarette on the carpet. "Are you running a business now!? Who sanctioned that?"


    The men were users of illicit services, not fully fledged members of the guild.


    "Hey, hey, easy. It''s not a business, alright? I''m just passing on some product, okay? I got it from my cousin Vinny, he says ''everybody''s desperate for the crimson now, you buy in bulk you can sell what you don''t need at a profit''. I mean it''s not like I''m stealing Mac''s business, right?"


    His friend was less interested in diffusing the situation. "Better get with the program George, business is changing around Eston. Everybody''s falling over each other to be part of it, and I don''t just mean flogging crimson. Anybody that has a useful skill gets the money to make something out of it from Papa Scratch. That new cobbler is doing healing without asking questions, there''s three new mugging groups at the shipyard raiding merchant sloops, and there''s like ten new cocette basements that I know of. Ain''t nobody''s not part of some business or another."


    "Your cousin Vinny," George began, "were does he get the sauce? Did he get it recently?"


    "Heck man... I don''t know..."


    "Where''s he live?"


    "What?"


    "Do I have to BEAT it out of you? Where does the damn man LIVE?" George near shouted and grabbed his collar.


    "Second floor above the wash-house? George, what''s gotten into you?"


    "Take me to him, NOW." The young guild member forceful dragged the client out of the gambling den.


    -


    Just as they''d left the door to Mac''s office opened up.


    "George, why don''t you come in," one of the dark sorcerer twins said.


    Inside, the old man Mac sat dazed and horrified at his desk, a burning hand print wrapped around his neck.


    "...George?"


    The patron pointed vacuously at the exit, distracted by the horrible violence inflicted on the owner, "they just left."


    <hr>


    In front of the Harkness manner, in the middle of the Promise, which was at the far end of the goblin warrens, sat a boy in a cage.


    He seemed to all the world to be a young cadet of the knight caste in a by now rather tarnished summer uniform.


    But the goblins knew what he was. A demon.


    The appearance of a young boy was only derived from the mind of Lydia Harkness, their brood knight.


    So he was left locked up next to the boarded up well, from which came an incredible smell.


    "Managgia!" The minister of waterworks cursed as he got close to the well.


    "See so you can smell it, Aimone!" said Gildo, who had taken him there. "What''s that smell? Is it dangerous?"


    "That smell is why we''re making the filtration lakes. It''s slimes, they''ve multiplied in the sewers and their runoff has seeped into everything."


    "Can we still drink the water?"


    Aimone conjured a small mote of fire in his palm and held it over the gaps between the planks. It lit up greener and stronger. "We''ll run it through the purifier gem twice, but at this point mana''s a concern. Fuck."


    Gildo was surprised. "The groundwater is so filthy we might not even have enough mana to purify it? Can it really be that bad?"


    Youthere chuckled in his cage. "Gentlemen, it does so warm my little black heart to be reminded that every achievement of mankind must come with a dark shadow. Five tribes! You have labored much to collect and move the filth of five large, thriving goblin tribes, and now even men are willing to call them home. But," now his smile widened, "as you see. There has been a cost. The caustic excrement of five wild growing towns of people flows together and is collected here, with your noses it it."


    "What are you saying you little punk?" Aimone shook his fists at him.


    "Aimone go easy, he''s just a kid." Gildo urged him.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Just a kid? What are you *stupido*? It''s a demon Gildo. That one-eye conjured him up using dark magic."


    "Yeah I know but..."


    "That''s right," Youthere leaned against the bars in what could be considered a seductive pose, "I am a bearer of the stolen power of Eriad. My master locked me up because he was afraid of my power."


    "What power?" Gildo asked, intrigued.


    "You wish to escape this nowhere hamlet of outcasts."


    "Yes."


    "You wish to become a man of renown, who is bowed down to and can go where he pleases."


    "Yes!"


    Gildo now had his face to the bars and Youthere gently touched his chin.


    "My power can flow into you and remake you. Into a fierce-some warrior! All you need to do..."


    "What do I do?"


    "...is accept my seed."


    "Your... seed?"


    The boyish looking spirit lifted itself up by the bars and thrust its crotch in front of Gildo''s face. "You guzzle the cum from my fat demon cock!"


    "Argh!" Gildo recoiled in disgust and hurt his hand reflexively swiping at the metal.


    Aimone slapped the back of his head, "It''s an incubus."


    "You could have warned me!" Gildo spat. He was nursing his painful knuckle, which was chafed.


    "It''s your own fault for being taken in by a demon."


    Youthere was on his back belly laughing at the young man''s reaction


    "Let''s get out of here," Aimone said, "this place stinks."


    -


    Somebody had kept an eye on them. And as soon as the men were out of hearing distance from the square, a little girl came out from her hiding place behind a weapon rack and trotted towards the cage.


    "Hello again, little girl," the demon grinned, "have you come to show me your results?"


    "If you''re lying I''ll tell Papa Scratch and he''ll hang you from your toes on the tanning rack." She said.


    "Then I swear it on the goodness in my heart." The demon said with an unnaturally wide grin.


    "Good." She put a child-sized suitcase on the ground and opened it up, revealing the toy seamstress kit.


    "I see," the demon nodded, "very good, very good. And you took my advice?"


    "Mhm." She held up the fruits of her labor, a handsome hand-sewn shawl with little abstracted goblin faces and the red-crowned visage of the mourning tree. "The secret herbs are on the inside."


    "They looked just like the ones I described to you?"


    "Mhm."


    "Wonderful Cobaline, you do your mother proud! Though we promised we wouldn''t tell any adults, didn''t we?"


    "When I get rich selling my special shawls, I''ll buy my momma some papers," the little girl beamed, "and then we can live in a real city in a real house!"


    "That''s good, but she would be very worried if she knew you were visiting strange goblin nests. So lips tight, okay?"


    He mimed sewing his lips shut and she mimicked him, signaling their mutual secrecy.


    But while she was doing so a warg wolf ran up to them and began sniffing the recently unpacked shawl.


    "Doggy, no, that''s m-"


    The animal growled angrily and yanked the meticulously crafted piece of clothing out of her hands.


    "Nooo!"


    He ran a few yards away from her and then began tearing it up in the square.


    "Cobaline! The doggy is destroying your precious handiwork!" Youthere said with fake concern.


    "I knoooow!"


    A poof noise came from the fabric and a cloud of green spores enveloped the wolf.


    There was a moment of silence, then he burst out of the viridian haze and ran off whining.


    "W-what''s that?" The girl said through her tears.


    Youthere set up a serious face. "Go up to it and breathe it in."


    She hesitated.


    "Go on then... DO IT!"


    The shouting made her start bawling but she didn''t follow his order.


    He sighed, but then a smile appeared. "Oh well. My plan was for you to poison your customers and be attacked by them, but your tears over seeing your precious work of art be destroyed is worth the effort at least."


    "You- you''re mean!" She yelled at him.


    "Mean!? Don''t be conservative girlie, I''m evil! Pure demonic evil! Hahaha!" He made an obnoxious slurping noise as she ran off.


    -


    A shadow glid over the square and a billowing cloak fell to the ground.


    Then, from under the cloak, the figure of an old woman rose up.


    She draped the cloth around herself for modesty.


    "You there, what is your name?"


    "Yes."


    "Ugh, I don''t have time for this. Where is your master?"


    "Oooh," he pouted his lips, "I''m afraid I cannot divulge such information without a flair of demonic discretion."


    "You listen to me, spirit," the witch wagged her finger, "it is me that controls the steel mill and its surroundings. Your goblin master answers to me."


    "Is that so? Do you feel in control?"


    "That''s, I-"


    "My lord Scratch has sworn fealty to many masters, will he serve them all? Or did he... what''s the word... lie?"


    "I know your kind, I will not let you sow division so easily. There are no other masters."


    "So you have faith then, that the little goblin lord will follow your agenda."


    She hesitated. "Yes."


    "That being the case, why come to the surface at all? Are you not here to monitor his activity?"


    "It is wisdom they lack. He and that... woman of his. The fairy queen grows ever stronger, I can feel her influence creeping closer. They must..." she paused to sniff the air, "poofweed..."


    The smell she picked up was the dispersed trap in Cobaline''s ruined scarf, but she attached a different meaning.


    "Weapons of the forest, already here. Keep the entrance to the caverns closed! They must not find me!"


    In a composed hurry she returned to her owl form and flew off with the cloak in her claws.


    Youthere gleefully watched her go for as long as he could.


    -


    It wasn''t much later that Huckabee strolled by, eating an apple.


    "Sho," he wiped his mouth, "you shtuck here huh?"


    "Indeed I am my simple-minded friend. Trapped in body, but not in mind."


    "Musht be boring all day on yer own, no-one to talk to."


    "Ha.. Haha... Hahaha!" The demon laughed long and heartily until Huckabee became so offended that he left.


    <hr>


    "There''s another one," the oldest elf said, while not trying to look.


    "Sister Farith, shallt I tell him to make scarce?" Another said.


    The shelter they had been provided had little privacy, so they couldn''t help but feel the eyes of the hobgoblin lurking shyly in the distance.


    "No, goeth not near his ilk. Who knoweth what he mi- Liorin!"


    She called out in vain as the youngest elf jumped onto the sand of the troll garden and ran up to the hobgoblin.


    -


    Seeing the elf come his way will instinctively adopted a nonchalant demeanor.


    He rapidly cycled through a number of poses until he came up with leaning against a cactus.


    Unfortunately this resulted in several painful needles getting embedded in his skin.


    "H-hi Liorin, have you-"


    "Out!" She demanded, and began to slap at him. "Out, out of this place! To us was made the promise that subhumans wereth not touch us without our saying so."


    "Hey, ow, stop, I''m not touching you." Will protested but didn''t stop her. He was secretly happy that her hands were touching him at all.


    "Then wherefore art thou here? Dost thou wish to drink us with thine eyes?"


    "Drink you? I don''t have that magic... I''m a messenger, a messenger!"


    The truth was that the boys had fought over who was allowed to relay this message, just to be around the captives.


    "Message? What message?"


    "I uh..." he looked around for excuses to extend the interaction, "so maybe the Farith wants to hear it, and Albwynn, and-"


    "Then I shall tell them. Now be quick about it."


    "We''re moving the devil altar in here."


    "The devil altar?"


    He pointed to a place behind the shadow of the canopy, in the harsh light of the sunstone. "There. See it normally digs itself, but it''s a long way down going from Lacrima''s place to here so we''re moving it. Second has built-"


    "Is it dangerous?"


    "...maybe."


    She put her hands on her hips. "Then I must tell my sisters that our hobgoblin jailors doth punish us with evil magicks in our confines. That the stench of agriculture and the threat of trolls were scarcely enough for them and they wisheth to further evoke our tears."


    "No, don''t tell them that." Will said, a bit panicked. "We don''t- I don''t..."


    "Don''t what? Tell me in earnest." She cut him off to keep him on the back foot and feel in control.


    "It''ll be safe, we''ll make it safe. I promise."


    "Safe it is not whilst we are exposed to the world. Thee must give us the walls of a home, so that we may be protected against scurrying beasts and the eyes of predators."


    "Yes. Absolutely. Before the devil altar''s here, we''ll add to the house, definitely." He didn''t know if he could really make that promise unilaterally, but he took the threat of tears very seriously and was desperate to please.


    "Off with you then, speak to your mistress." She dismissed him like a servant and he dutifully turned back.


    Liorin turned around triumphantly. The brood knight had made it pretty much explicit that even something as simple as exterior walls were contingent on one of them putting out to the hobgoblins. But she had been able to press for it without adding even a promise to the subhuman army.


    However, when she joined her sisters again, they did not look pleased.


    <hr>


    "Sorry, none of the staff is here."


    "Sorry, upstairs is closed..."


    "Sorry, nobody''s here-"


    Again and again the receptionist had to explain to adventurers that the bureaucratic facilities and training was closed and only the cafeteria was open. One would expect the information to spread among the membership, but apparently Eston''s entire adventuring population had decided to see for themselves.


    "Hi, can I-"


    "Nobody''s here, okay!?" She fell out against the stunned visitor.


    The woman stood wide-eyed at the counter for a moment. "I just wanted drinks for seven."


    "Oh. My goodness, yes, of course. Just a moment." A bit embarrassed, the receptionist began to pour beers. "You''re Margaret aren''t you? I remember you, you were here with the nightshade hero... aren''t you cold in that?"


    Suddenly self-conscious, Margaret began to fret over her frankly indecent outfit, hovering her arms over her exposed skin. "Haha, no. It''s just... ancient paladin armor, you know how it is."


    "Huh?" The guild girl raised a skeptical eyebrow, she didn''t know.


    Margaret stole a glance at the table she came from. Laurus, the nightshade hero, surrounded by his other party members.


    Each of them a beautiful woman in her own right, and each of them hanging on to his lips, loudly agreeing with everything he was saying.


    The receptionist winced. Party members to heroes were more like worshiper than peers. "What''s a rank A adventurer doing in Eston of all places?"


    Margaret slammed her palms eagerly on the table, giving the girl a non-consensual eyeful of her lewd attire. "He''s here to save elven-kind! Isn''t that amazing? This girl belongs to the hidden people, but she had to flee because of hobgoblins. So Laurus is going to save her village!"


    "Yeah yeah, really amazing." The receptionist sighed and handed her a tray, "you can pay when you leave."


    "Thanksss..." Margaret picked up the stack of foamy beers and quickly joined the party.


    She used putting down the tray as an excuse to push her cleavage into Laurus'' face.


    "Bwuh-wuh ah?" He blushed intensely like a child that had never even seen a woman.


    "No fair, feel mine!" An elegant black-haired woman in a kimono dropped her katana to compete with her, and soon there was a pile-up of young beauties on the hero.


    Only the petite elven girl, Sylphie, sat quietly in her chair, sipping foam with a distant expression.


    -


    "It was disgusting, I thought they were going to fucking right in front of me on the cafeteria floor." The receptionist told a regular.


    "Yeah it seems like they have that sort of relationship," the adventurer said while biting into a chicken wing, "but actually he makes them sleep in separate rooms at the inn."


    "What? Why?"


    "I dunno, performance anxiety maybe? If they''re here for the warrens you should tell them the count''s claimed it."


    She sat down next to him and took one of his wings. "They''re not here for the quest board, they want to save the hidden people. If the count wants to get between them he can do it himself."


    "But wow..." the adventurer said, "Rank A. I''d never dreamed I''d see a rank A adventurer in Eston. Dichtershire only has a few..."


    "He seems carefree, doesn''t he?"


    "Yeah. Must be nice being so strong everybody wants to please you..."


    -


    "What are you doing here!?"


    "Oh no."


    The bratty baron''s son that had registered a few days ago was seeking confrontation with the high level adventurer.


    "Let''s all calm down-" The receptionist was about to come between them, but both drew their weapons.


    "I''m here to defeat the brood knight, who are you?"


    "I see, so you weren''t content humiliating me, now you''re planning to take my quarry from me. That''s it?"


    "Seriously? Who are you?"


    "Don''t play dumb!" Sebastian Tanner charged with his epee, which the nightshade hero effortlessly deflected.


    "Take this, and this!" The noble attacked again and again, and the hero did not counter-attack.


    Until he finally managed to nick him in the wrist and black tendrils began to spread under the skin.


    "Eat my curse of weakness, you damn peasant!" Sebastian cheered as he drove the point in further and Laurus sank to one knee.


    "That''s a cursed steel weapon!" One of the girls yelled, "that''s evil magic!"


    But a surge of will possessed the hero. He gripped his sword tighter and jumped to his feet, spinning around in the air. "Blade Storm!" He yelled, and an enormous slash cleaved a gash into the far wall.


    Sebastian stood still, staring blankly at his opponent. When he tried moving his arm he found that it was a little stump gushing blood. The limb holding on to the forbidden weapon was lying lifeless on the floor.


    He fell down.


    "How did he get that cursed weapon?" An adventurer asked the guild girl.


    "That''s what I want to know."


    <hr>


    Poofweed


    This special herb releases a poisonous cloud when broken. Can be found in temperate forests and plains.


    Poofweed poison irritates the eyes and nose and can cause health complications when inhaled.


    Intelligent forest monsters such as pixies often use poofweed as ammunition against intruders. However, as a weapon it is inferior to regular flint-tipped arrows and the monetary value is negligible.


    Poofweed is not a harvesting priority.

 The Grand Design

    While Mac''s goons were running from place to place all over time to unravel the ultimate origin of the sweet crimson, and the disgraced knight duo were asking questions about its creator, a small army of young adults were frantically searching for just any drop of it.


    Conform Scratch''s instructions, Lucky had let Stanford from the guild organize a get-together with a specific one.


    "Can I... can I have some of the stuff?" The young knight gulped and gasped, thick beads of sweat were running down her neck.


    "Bitter Crimson," Lucky placed a vial on the parlor table, "not as tasty, but it satisfies the... itch."


    As she reached out to it, Stanford pulled it away. "We do apologize for... all of this. Miss Beauregarde." He gave a sympathetic smile.


    They were at his home in Eston, relatively lived in now that he had been a local cobbler for some time. They had made her skip training at the barracks in order to come beg for a forbidden substance. Disgrace wasn''t a strong enough word for it, if anybody knew about this her life and future prospects would be destroyed. But the throes of addiction had already gotten hold of her, and she didn''t have much choice.


    "I''ve been a bandit, I''ve been among bandits. I know what crimson withdrawal does to a person," he looked into her pleading eyes, "but we must ask you to lend us your ear first."


    "We want something in return," Mabel said from the door opening. She had at first decided not to show her face to the knight, but now she had apparently changed her mind.


    "I have money... my family-"


    "My dear girl, no," Stanford sighed, "this is not about the liquid. This is about the future."


    Beaureagarde''s eyes were locked onto the flask. "I don''t understand."


    "No, the withdrawal can do that. I mean the future. Have you considered who will keep your secrets?" He relented and let her have the bitter crimson, which she greedily gulped down.


    As soon as she could breathe, she gagged in disgust, but she kept it down. Bitter crimson was much more like a medicine than its party girl sister.


    The effects hit, her pupils dilated, and she felt at ease again. "You plan on blackmailing me." She said calmly.


    Mabel uncrossed her arms in concern at her composure, but the others knew this was an effect of the drug, and not of some trump card providing confidence.


    "You can call it blackmail if you want. We think of it as providing a discrete service," Stanford said, "from now on, you can come retrieve your medicine here, nobody has to see it, nobody passes it on."


    "Maybe I''ll kick the habit."


    "My dear..."


    She looked away, he didn''t even need to argue, it was self evident that she couldn''t. "Can''t I just give you gold?"


    "How would you like to be the new face of justice in Eston?" Stanford asked.


    "What?"


    "You already know most of the force will be moved to the new fortress once it''s completed," Mabel said, "to assist in the proving."


    "Yeah... how do you know about the proving?"


    "That''s not important right now," Stanford tapped the table to refocus her attention, "what''s important is that the captain will have to delegate protecting the city to one of the recruits."


    "Yeah..." she leaned her elbows on the table and supported her head, "it''s probably going to be one of the Rochast''s though..."


    "No, it''s going to be *you*."


    "Whaaaa...?" She made a noise as if yelling in surprise, but at a more indoor volume. It had a slightly sarcastic effect.


    "You''re going to impress the captain greatly by discovering the identities of the shadow bandits in this town, and by rolling up various illegal enterprises."


    She sat up straight, "no, what? You''re giving up your shadow bandits? We hadn''t even admitted they were real yet."


    "We''re giving up a lot of folk," Mabel said, "From now on, every time your people discover thieves'' guild activity, you tell us. And we tell you to arrest over it."


    "...the perpetrator?"


    "In the beginning."


    "Now then," Stanford stood up and stuck out his hand for a handshake, "I believe that''s everything."


    She stood up with him but hesitated at shaking.


    "Need I remind you, miss Beauregarde" he whispered more sinisterly, "that the alternative is disgrace as an addict, loss of your family name, and even death?"


    Mabel, who had lived with a formal noble for years, added some poignant words. "What would your parents think?"


    Beauregarde was an adult, but she was a young adult, and those words scared her more than any previous. "Fine." She shook his hand. "But I have a limit. If anything happens like in what happened in Lacrima''s orphanage... I can''t cover for that."


    "Fair enough, that is no longer our business." Mabel relented.


    After she''d left, the guild leader added, "inside the city at least."


    <hr>


    Your associates have secured a deal with the knight.


    If you know about it, that means there must have been some falshoods.


    Yes, but nothing that could ruin the arrangement.


    Excellent. Are you comfortable?


    The tent and slab above the wyrm shard had been removed and the crystal was now slowly being lifted out of its self-dug hole.


    The goblins had gotten comfortable using cranes and wheels to move heavy objects when building the forge, and Second had devoted his time to creating a specialized tool for the job.


    It was a circular casing surrounding the hole, from which several pulleys could lift and suspend the shard, and which could be moved on top of a modular rail.


    The rail consisted of three parts, once the shell holding the wyrm shard was moved and secured to the front rail, the back rail was disconnected and attached to the front to move it the next few meters. It was a slow process, but it was stable.


    I''m out of position, losing sight of the dungeon. The dragonbats might start misbehaving until I''m at my location.


    Well it was your idea.


    The shard was lifted into place and goblins all over began locking it into place so it would not sway.


    Scratch had insisted there be someone in front, using flags to signal whether the vehicle should move or stop, but the poor creature had no idea what the flags were supposed to symbolize, and simply held them up over his head to signal a clear path.


    I didn''t have much choice, you created the summit of power in the desert with your troll garden. I need my shard to be at the end of that progression to fully exploit its magic.


    Scratch idly waved his hands to give the go-ahead for moving the shard, but the goblins on the project weren''t waiting on his signal, they were in sync with each other. So, are we going to discuss the talking statue?


    You have spoken to Guth, Goddess of the Moon and of Magic. She is one of the twelve Gods that oppose us.


    Does she know about you?


    Most likely, yes. That''s what''s so curious about her offer, I can''t figure out her true intentions.... Oh, I have to say; I can''t detect lies if it''s a God.


    You might have to watch out, maybe I''ll become her champion instead.


    Cyclophan scoffed psychically. A god has only a single champion, that''s what makes them a champion, an avatar for their power in the living world. A major Goddess like Guth would not waste her time on you.


    Scratch rubbed his chin while keeping pace with the trolley, But she is looking isn''t she? That''s her plan for Lacrima, giving her an opportunity to prove herself.


    That would not be surprising, a major Goddess can afford to be selective of her champion.


    There was a definite accusatory undertone to the comment. Cyclophan had much bemoaned having to select the first goblin he could get through to as his champion, rather than anything more powerful.


    But what does she need a champion for? What do gods do with champions? Does Guth have a dungeon?


    Let me not come across as bitter and envious,** Cyclophan said bitterly and enviously, **but she does not need a champion. Not like us evil gods do. I need you to protect my shard, in order to have any ability to manifest myself. Guth doesn''t need a shard, she has the moon. The champions of the major Gods are just playthings, favored souls to parade around.


    What''s the difference between you and her anyway? Number of worshippers?


    No... I suppose I should simply tell you. There''s twelve major Gods now, but there was once a thirteenth. The God of Evil, Malsidious, was shattered into countless pieces by the others. We evil gods are each one aspect of him.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    And each of you can create your own champion?


    Uhm, yeah.


    Sounds like they only made more trouble for themselves.


    We are infinitely weakened! A god exist by and through his aspects. Even if all magic were to be destroyed, Guth could hold on to existence via the moon and her many other purviews, and simply recreate the teachings. But we evil gods must cling to a much narrower domain. Some of us are already gone.


    Really? Who?


    I don''t know. I know there is evil that has been eradicated and forgotten. If it were reinvented then the evil god would return, but our opponents, including Guth, have made sure to wash away all knowledge of the subject. Specifically to prevent that.


    At least deception can''t be eradicated, huh?


    You really think so?


    Are you kidding? As long as there are two distantly intelligent creatures on the face of the planet, someone is going to lead someone by the nose. That''s the first purpose of exchanging information, to deceive.


    Thank you, that''s a real comfort. Really.


    Mhm.


    -


    It took a full day for the core to be moved, step by step, past the new industrial machines for metalworking, through the cavern and into the caves that led to the underworld.


    There, on top of the old brickwork that oversaw the troll garden, it was ceremoniously displayed before the big descent.


    Work was halted all over the dungeon so everybody could come and see it.


    The daring plummet.


    As part of a new experiment, the goblins had worked long and hard to develop metal cables.


    Steel would have taken too long, so it was iron and bronze braided together.


    Each individual strand was created via a ''rolling'' process, in which a metal bar was heated and repeatedly squeezed through two smooth stone rollers, until it turned into a long thin strand of about thirty feet.


    Then, to coil them together, Second and their brother Sota had devised another specialized tool.


    The coiler was a wheel, it could be turned using its spokes and fed metal strands into the holes in its center.


    It required two trolls to put in enough force to coil them together into a mighty industrial cable.


    By putting the strands in one by one, they were able to stagger the ''mere'' thirty feet long creations lengthwise against each other.


    In this manner, no one strand spanned the length of the cable, but the creation as a whole could be forged to be much longer while still being relatively continuous.


    Two cable where created this way. Two cables spanning the entire distance from the high brickwork to the sands below. At a low 45 degree angle.


    The main architects of the project stood there at the beginning of the zip line to eagerly accept the railing.


    There was a platform to place it on before hooking it to the cables. The chains holding the cables in place framed this platform to either side and the frayed ends from the staggered strands protruded menacingly from there, like spikes on an evil throne.


    There was some ceremony hooking the shard to the cables, and various goblins involved were allowed to hold a little speech explaining their contributions.


    Many goblins had hurt themselves in the process of its creation. From grabbing the the strands before they''d cooled, to standing next to the cable when it suddenly uncoiled, to even falling from great heights installing it. They wouldn''t be able to try this again if the cable snapped.


    "The others are waiting for us down below. Let''s not make them wait any longer, shall we?"


    Scratch. I changed my mind, maybe you can just lower me down the shaft.


    "No getting cold feet now. I''ll be damned if I take this away from them." Scratch said out loud as he broke an imported wine bottle on the casing.


    -


    If a dungeon core could scream, it would have, because as soon as the platform toppled over the cliff''s edge the casing dropped ten feet and started its glide over the zip lines with a running start.


    Sparks where flying as the rings securing it to the cables began to glow red hot, brighter than the sunstone.


    "Will you look at that." Scratch patted Second''s back and there was a return of some brotherly camaraderie as they looked on to the successful project.


    But as soon as the core reached the middle of the lines it began to rock wildly. The rings were bumping against imperfections in the metal and the cable wasn''t completely taut, allowing the weight to shift and jump around.


    The brothers now held on to each other in suspense.


    But the line did not snap.


    Once the core had reached the lower end of the cable it had build up full momentum, and that speed diverted more and more into the horizontal dimension. As it did the path of the jumpy casing become less and less predictable.


    Cyclophan''s tendrils of darkness erupted out of the core. But in this open space they seemed more like flailing arms.


    Daaaamn you Scraaaatch!


    The core hit the end of the zip line and exploded out of the casing.


    It flew past the house for the elves and skipped against the desert sand multiple times, bouncing erratically. Until it finally came to a halt some half a mile from the troll garden.


    "And... he''s still whole. Well done everybody," Scratch began to shake hands with his brothers and directed them to do the same with each other. "I''m sure it would have been even better if we had involved math somehow, but I''m not a scientist."


    I have a question.


    Yes?


    Earlier, when you asked me if I was comfortable...


    Mhm?


    Did you know this would happen?


    Well you did try to replace me a few times.


    Ugh.


    <hr>


    The new walls around the elven pagoda provided some privacy and nothing else.


    They certainly weren''t protected against the large projectile being catapulted over their heads. It narrowly missed them and just the resulting gust of air knocked over some of the thin wooden sheets resting against the framework.


    There was a party of hobgoblins there who were supposed to safely dismount the shard once it had gently glided down. With the cargo having launched itself out of their reach, they didn''t have much to do other than stare at the recently revealed women.


    They had just taken advantage of the new covers by cleaning each other with wet rags.


    "Beasts!" One of the elves yelled, shielding her friend with her body, "you hath come to attack us after all!"


    "Liorin, tell them to leave. Now."


    "I will Albwynn." The youngest elf was secretly proud of her burgeoning reputation as hobgoblin pacifier. She came out of the hut barely decent with wet hair and walked up threateningly to Will. "What''s the meaning of this? Huh?"


    The other brothers surrounded them, jealous of how close she got.


    "Liorin... hi." He blushed.


    "Were you not satisfied surrounding us with these unsightly sights against nature? Metal and plants in rows! And now you''ve come to bully-"


    She stopped when she saw the clouds of sand the core''s bouncing had kicked up.


    "W-what...?"


    "I... killed a goose yesterday..." Will said shyly. "Quiet said- Quiet is my uncle -he said we could roast it and we could eat it together."


    "What did you do?" She gasped, "that''s the devil altar!?"


    "See... I thought that... you might want to eat something nice, so-"


    "Did you throw that rock!?"


    Will looked a bit hurt, she was ignoring his attempt at setting up a date. "N-no, we slid it off the lines. Those."


    He pointed at the receptacle the core had exploded out of. It was a platform surrounded by four heavy concrete pillars to keep the cables in place.


    They had been there for its construction, but only now did the ugly thing''s purpose become clear to her. "That''s insane. You take it apart and you rebuild it, you don''t *move the whole altar*!"


    "Oh... sorry?"


    "Go tell your friends we have meat for them." Constantine said, "we can eat together."


    "Ew, no. We would rather eat dirt than eat with you. Filthy!" She slapped his arm away, not really hurting him but significantly bruising his ego.


    Ada walked around her brothers and pushed her back.


    "Ah! We promised not to touch them." Constantine warned.


    "I didn''t promise anything," the girl hobgoblin said, "go do something else."


    She continued walking forward and forcing the elf back. When she tried to shake her off, Ada took her arm and spun her around so that she held her constrained with just one arm.


    "I don''t know why my brothers are so nice to you, but you''re gonna be nice back, alright?" She said in a tone as closely to Scratch''s fatherly demands as possible. Then she patted her thorned whip with the other hand. "Go tell your sisters that."


    -


    It was a hike for the launch team to reach the destination team.


    When Scratch met up with his children he asked whether the elves hadn''t been too disturbed by the mishap.


    "Ada grabbed one." Constantine tattled, and she punched his shoulder.


    Scratch puffed his cigarette. "Did you do anything to her?"


    "No."


    "I see. Don''t tell your mother."


    They left the protective shade of the canopy and hiked into the harsh desert where the cargo had ended up.


    On the way they passed the splintered remains of Second''s casing spread out over a large area and harvested some of its rope.


    When they reached the impact crater of the core, it was already righting itself.


    With a slow methodical turning, it displaced the sand on one side and deposited it on the other, so that it naturally slid into position.


    "Let''s help him out a bit." Scratch said, and with the use of rope and muscle they managed to get its top level with the surface.


    "Why are we doing all this?" Will asked eventually.


    "Didn''t I say so?" Scratch asked.


    He shook his head.


    He looked to Second, who also didn''t seem to know.


    "You''ve been helping me do this days, and you didn''t know?"


    "I figured it''s fine if you know."


    "No, that''s not fine. People will walk right over you if you think that. Listen, there are two reasons." Scratch held up two fingers, "the first is that the dungeon core is what keeps all the animals in the underground obedient. Got that? People have come to destroy it before and they will again, so it''s safer here. Secondly, I''ve had a talk with him, and the devil altar is stronger here, so we''ll be able to put out some better curses before the whole thing kicks off."


    "Ah, like Lacrima!" One of the goblins said.


    Scratch was a bit surprised at this. "...you gonna follow that up?"


    "The witch said she''d make a special weapon before the fairies get here."


    "Yeah, the fairies. I was actually referring to the army, but we''ve got a deadline to deal with both. Anyway, the captain has recruited some special forces and is about to kick off another invasion. The weather is already getting warmer, he could''ve moved his troops out of the city yesterday and attacked tomorrow if it weren''t for the complication."


    "Complicashun?"


    "Oh they just got held up a bit by bureaucracy. Some criminal trial, it''s not important."


    <hr>


    Jeez, how did I get myself into this situation?


    [The defendent is... Laurus the Nightshade hero! Adventurer rank A!] The announcer guy says.


    [Laurus,]  the judge guy says, [you stand accused of assassinating a noble. Do you understand?]


    [Yeah, I understand but-]


    [Please be seated, that''s enough.]


    I can''t even defend myself? A historical western world like this doesn''t really care about justice do they?


    [Laurus didn''t do anything wrong! It was self defense! Self defense!]  Marjorie yells.


    Marjorie! Thank you!


    [This is a miscarriage of justice!] Margaret pounds her fist on the bar, [the church will hear about this!]


    [Yes! and so will my mother!]


    [...]


    Girls!


    The judge bangs his hammer thing. [Order. Order! This is not a sentencing. Today we are assigning researchers to the case. Since this concerns the death of someone with noble birth, our laws dictate that it must be judicated by someone of noble birth. Fortunately, the army is in town, so we do not need to wait on a volunteer.]


    What? The army is in town? Why?


    [Miss Beauregarde? You wanted to take this case?]


    On the podium stands a freckled beauty with tired eyes. She''s going to decide whether I''m executed or not?


    [Thank you your honor. Although we are all convinced of the great Laurus'' innocence, we must gather evidence before we can make a judgement. It will take a few weeks for the world memories of and surrounding the event are formed. Until that time, I''m afraid we will have to hold him in house arrest.]


    House arrest? What does that mean?


    [This regiment would never treat a rank A hero like a common criminal. You will be housed in high quality lodging, I have made sure of that.]


    The judge nods. [Well done Augusta. I have spoken with the captain, and he is very proud of the initiative you''ve shown in maintaining justice in Eston.]


    She isn''t looking at him. Is she looking at... me?


    I suppose I am a little bit special.


    [Laurus,] the judge says, [the Rochasts will be escorting you to your new room. Please, do not attempt to escape. Things will go much better for you if you subject yourself to justice.]


    I feel much more at ease with Augusta Beauregarde on the case.


    [Laurus.] Margaret comes up to me as I''m taken away.


    don''tlookatherboobsdon''tlookatherboobs


    [I will make sure everything is cleared up. I won''t let them convict you.]


    [Me neither!]


    [...]


    Girls!


    [Hey keep it moving.] One of the knights says.


    I hug my party members before leaving.


    But one thing still bothers me...


    Who was the guy that I killed? Had I ever met him before?


    <hr>


    Adventuring Stay


    Nobility in Blurich and Reddington and high ranking officials in Grienice have been acknowledged by the adventurers'' guild as having the authority to declare stays on adventuring in a region.


    Regions with adventuring stays will be clearly marked on the map and denoted by signs for travelers.


    Adventurers are suspended from all normal adventuring activities here. This includes: monster suppression, dungeon crawling, whisk collection, and treasure seeking. However, adventurers may still engage in special order quests given out by officials.


    Adventuring stays can be declared for a number of reasons:


    When the realm is engaged in extensive bandit suppression, it can be necessary for the army to ban all armed citizens from a region in order to properly identify the enemy.


    When known or unknown forces are causing adventurers to attack each other or the peasantry, a count ensure they are kept out.


    And when a region is selected as a proving ground, uninvited adventurers are kept out so that they will not interfere with the competition between nobles.

 The Poison Chalice

    "You''ve got some nerve standing me up." Mac said as he entered the office.


    The former alchemist''s apprentice half stood up and then sat back down. "T-thank you for having me."


    He couldn''t help but notice the scorch mark around the old man''s neck as he took a seat across from him, even through his many gold chains.


    "Don''t mention it. Have you met the twins? They''re here to oversee the shadow bandits." The twins with the earrings stood to either side of the brewer, cracking their knuckles.


    "My name is-"


    "Shut up. George and the boys roughed you up before bringing you here, yeah?"


    "...yeah."


    "That''s because you were being difficult. If you stop being difficult, we''re not going to have a problem anymore, understand?"


    "Yeah."


    "Good," Mac took a glance at the sister, "he''s a good kid, does as he''s told. I just gotta tell you, kid. You don''t work for Mabel anymore, you work for me from now on."


    The young man grit his teeth. "I never worked for anybody. It was me, it was all me from the start."


    "Sure, like major hustles just pop out of the ground." Mac took a sip of water as he retrieved some document from his desk. "Let''s see... from now on Swell Crimson- was that its name?"


    "Sweet Crimson."


    "Sure, Soot Crimson. Only to be sold at these locations." He showed him a list of his own gambling establishments. "If we find it anywhere else... we know where to find you. And it won''t be George next time, it''ll be shadows."


    The young man scoffed openly.


    This soured the old man''s expression. "What?"


    "Oh nothing. Just you... talking like they''re your dogs. That''s funny to me."


    "You wanna be funny!?" The brother slammed the desk with his hand and then manifested a claw of shiny elemental magic around his hand, pressing the knife-like thumb against the young man''s cheek.


    He had to turn his face away not to have his skin pierced.


    "This is not a joke." The dark sorcerer hissed threateningly.


    "Everybody can see..." the brewer began, waiting for the knife to be withdrawn.


    It wasn''t.


    So he accepted it in his life and continued regardless. "...that they aren''t marching under your orders. You are under theirs. It''s the liege that really pulls the strings here."


    To his credit, the guild leader maintained his poker face. "I assure you, kid. It''s only because of me that he hasn''t slit your throat yet. My leash."


    The dark sorcerer widened his eyes to look even more dangerous and evil.


    The young man''s eyes remained fixed on Mac however. "But George and the others don''t work for the liege. They work for you, for the clubs and the casinos. Did you really expect them to keep following you after you sold out to some foreign lord?"


    There was a banging at the door, and the staff of the casino was making their voices heard.


    "Boss! Come out, it''s over."


    "We just wanna talk."


    The old man banged his fist on the table. "Weren''t you listening? I don''t need them. I told you it won''t be George next time it''ll be-"


    "Shadows are over with in Eston!" He now stood up triumphantly and was shouting despite himself. The twins grabbed his shoulders but he did not sit back down. "Why do you think I chose this moment to come to you? To occupy the dark sorcerers while the shadows get dragged into the streets!"


    He was thrown over his chair and onto the hard wooden floor. He could have broken his neck, but he hardly felt it through the ecstasy of victory.


    "What are you talking about!? Who is dragging who?" The male twin shouted.


    "Be sensible," the other said to her brother, "it''s a bluff. There are no traitors who could name all of our troops."


    "The god of deception could," he grunted.


    That changed her expression. She used some unseen magic and snakes emerged from between her hair. "Scratch! You ungeziefer you work for HIM!"


    "Wait, a minute, what''s happening?" Mac protested, "a god?"


    The twins ignored him.


    "He must have told the king''s dogs." The brother said, looking up at the ceiling in the direction of the streets above. "We don''t have much time, we must secure our master''s holdings."


    The sister was more occupied with their captive. "Oh I''ve got time to kill you. I''ll kill you like I killed the old Harkness, how''d you like that?" The snakes creeped further and further out of her head and towards his face.


    Some of the brewer''s smugness melted away, but he was saved by Mac''s own goons busting down the door.


    "It''s over Mac. There''s knights all over the district and they''re taking people in. The Liege''s ousted, we lost another one."


    "Old Man. You will not fail our pact again, contain these lowlifes." The woman said.


    "Back. Now." Mac held up a crystal amulet from his much adorned neck. "Liege or no. I am still a leader of this guild."


    "Nah," one of the boys said, "you''re done fo-"


    A beam shot out of the crystal and the young enforcer''s skin began to rapidly deteriorate. He withered away and turned to dust before he had even hit the floor.


    The others held up their hands and dropped their weapons as Mac pointed the magical artifact at them. "To think I''d have to use this on my own-" he staggered and the weapon fell out of his hand. "...on my own..."


    "Feeling disoriented? Trouble breathing? That''ll be the poison." The former alchemist''s apprentice grinned as he climbed to his feet. "Of course I couldn''t slip it in myself..."


    "Sorry boss," George sighed, "it''s just the way it is, you know? I mean you''re always saying weakness gets you killed in this biz."


    The dark sorceress righted herself. "I say we kill them all."


    "We really do not have time for this." Her brother said.


    "Well we won''t let you kill the Sweet Crimson guy," George said, "not without a fight."


    "Ugh," she groaned, "we''re out of here."


    "Wait..." Mac gasped for air, "I''m dying."


    The brother gave him a slight glance of disdain, then the two began casting some magic.


    "Walgis'' Escape!" one chanted, and they turned into orbs of light that flew through the doorway, up the stairs and out into the street.


    "W-who are you?" Mac asked his poisoner.


    "Me? I''m just Lucky."


    <hr>


    "And that''ll be about approximately how it happened." Scratch recounted.


    "Master, I shall take your word for it." Youthere smiled. "And this leaves you in control of all illicit dealings of Eston?"


    "Yeah for the most part." The goblin rubbed his back against the rough stone of the boarded up well, "the organized parts anyway. The sorcerer pair has fled the city, and there''s always random unaligned grifters, but the Thieves'' Guild are all our grubstake... I think that proves that I don''t need your demonic torture and sex magic to claim a city."


    "Now to prove you do not need lich torture and death magic to defend your own."


    "Yeah I-" Scratch was ripped out of his train of thought by the unpleasant comment and gave him an annoyed look.


    Youthere put on an air of fake contrition. "My apologies, I had assumed you expected conversation of me."


    "Eh... I guess you''re right," the goblin patriarch returned to his self-satisfied boasting, "I''ll have to get around to shutting that fortress down soon.


    Shouldn''t be too hard now that I''ve got the city down, after all, that Linel character was implicated with something, and as we''ve learned from last year, an army relies on supply lines from the civilized world..."


    "But wasn''t it you, master, that stressed how a lord from an outside territory can not simply be defanged by securing the local power? And you can not have forgotten that the Liege''s most powerful enforcers are dangerous enemies in their own right, even without their cadres..."


    It was the second time in short succession that the familiar had interrupted his happiness with inconvenient logic.


    Instead of getting angry, Scratch breathed in deeply and then out again, releasing the tension.


    He stared happily at the dancing lights in the night''s sky. He''d made it.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    He''d regained a human standard of living, banished most immediate threats to his life, and now he controlled a crime circle again. Benesant could shove it up her big fat cunt.


    "...master, there is a real threat of fairies." Youthere insisted.


    "Okay, what is your problem?" Scratch fell out, "you''re only ever this doom-and-gloomy when you''re hoping I''ll do something fucked up to fix it. So what is it? Do we start a wildfire? Salt the earth maybe, so no fairy plants can grow?"


    "Nay, I-"


    "Oh, let me think... we let you have sex with the fairy queen until she turns into a gibbering mindless beast. Am I getting warmer?"


    "Master, please. My reminder of your inherited enemy was not one of greater contextual framing, nor was it meant as underpinning argument for my general advice for your managing and strategic doctrine- however strongly I continue to believe in it- it was meant to alert you to a more present, that is to say, more in-the-moment, immediate-"


    "Just say it."


    "The fairy threat is here right now!"


    As he said it, the swarm of lights that had seemed like firebugs suddenly parted and rushed at them.


    "Ah shit, ah fuck, ah shit!"


    -


    "Papa, what''s going on?" Jasper stopped halfway into tying his leather straps to help his father hold the door.


    The hobgoblin''s strength was considerably greater than his, so Scratch let go and took a step back. "I don''t know. We just got swarmed, I- what are you wearing?"


    "This?" Jasper looked at the mail and greaves he had been putting on, alongside hunting trophies in the style of the colonies. "You said to put on something good looking."


    "Yeah, I meant something fancy. Not like you''re going to war!"


    "Open the door!" Lydia demanded, she held up her fingers like a ring and puffed out her cheeks in preparation for her fire breath spell.


    Jasper swung open the door and jumped aside as a swarm of glowing wasps rushed in and were promptly assassinated.


    "Fairy beasts." She said, "Lacrima warned me this would happen. They start by sending wild animals."


    "Look at your son," Scratch insisted, "do you approve of this?"


    She looked at him up and down. "Yeah. You look good. Tighten those straps."


    "Really? That''s how men dress on a dinner date where you''re from."


    "Not in Linefort, no. He''s dressed like he''s from the Promise."


    "That''s right, and I am from the Promise." Jasper nodded happily.


    The mother then turned her attention back to the outside. "I should go. The fairy beasts will be attacking other villagers."


    "Absolutely not. If it''s just beasts we leave to our own beasts." Scratch said, "hand me the barking horn."


    The instrument allowed him to recreate the barking sounds of the warg wolves, and he gave a signal of alarm.


    Immediately there came a yowling answer from within the village.


    "Alright, jeez, just making sure," he complained, then he turned to the others. "They already knew."


    "It''s being handled?"


    "Of course it is. What do they have? Some bugs, a pig? We''ve got wolves, goblins... and those bat things... I think a cockatrice won their respect or something? Anyway there''s one of those running around. They''ll be fine, you go have your dinner."


    "Are you sure?"


    "I''m absolutely sure, take this opportunity, get to know the ladies. I''ll talk to Lacrima about getting an advanced notice like you did."


    Only once they were completely at ease and had left the manor to go to the troll garden did he check up on Youthere, who of course had been stuck in his cage and unable to escape the swarm when Scratch had fled.


    "You there, alright, are we?"


    "Oh master..." the demon slowly turned around, to reveal the extend of the damage. "They took my eyes..."


    Scratch winced looking at the open eye sockets, bleeding profusely and carrying only the remains of two scratch out eyeballs.


    "How could I not approve of such cruelty!" The demon grinned widely.


    <hr>


    The relationship the elves had with the dungeon master was transactional.


    For every step they would make towards building a relationship with the hobgoblins, their living conditions were improved.


    The plan hadn''t been very successful so far. The women had too much pride to sell themselves so easily, and found strength in each other.


    But small progress was made in the form of a dinner date.


    They were given a rare feast of meats and fruit, and all they had to do was tolerate sitting across from their captors while eating it.


    A long dining table had been brought down via the cables, which were completing their conversion into a fully functional cargo lift.


    Presented on a platter was a two-headed goose the size of an adult man, plucked, stuffed, and roasted. All other food items were garnish around the poultry.


    The dining experience was completed with comfortable chairs, tableware, and a sunscreen to provide atmosphere.


    However, the even was stripped of its magic by one of the parties severely lacking in table manners.


    The hobgoblins had been raised by a knight and another adult, they were holding their silverware properly and eating without spilling.


    But the elves had subsisted off of fresh pickings and mushroom bread for all their lives, they were used to using their hands.


    So two broad strategies were employed by the women. One was to awkwardly attempt to mimic their hosts'' eating style, clumsily clutching their forks and stabbing the bird as if it hadn''t yet been killed. The other was to proudly defy their expectations and bring the meat to their mouths using their hands, staining their fingers with grease.


    Either way, their aura of elegance was broken.


    "Hey, what are you doing?" Constantine blurted out, "that''s not how you''re supposed to eat!"


    "Ahem," his mother interrupted him, "Farith, how do you like our cooking?"


    The elf froze up right before biting down on an oversized hunk of meat. She gently put her food down and regained her composure. "It is... acceptable."


    "Dig in. It''s yours. The Promise is a rich center of trade and agriculture. Whenever you wish for something. Say it. We can determine a price."


    "Can I wish for my kin to be returned from death?" The elf next to Farith bit. "Can I wish for our mother tree back?"


    "We offer you luxuries. Beyond which you ever knew."


    "Thee offereth us slavery! To be bred until we break."


    "No." The knight insisted. "Motherhood is not like that. I have birthed hobgoblins and-"


    "And they''re monsters! Look at thy spawn, mother of monsters! Bloody mongrels in pelts and weapons!"


    -


    And so the evening had very little in common with a date and more with a heated political debate.


    Though the complaining did not prevent the captives from filling their bellies copiously.


    "I hate this, why are none of you getting angry?" Ada complained, "she''s being so mean."


    The insults on her species had really affected her, though she was pretending to be tough.


    "She''s pretty..." Constantine just said, as meager justification.


    "Pecorath had a partner," Liorin, who sat directly across from them whispered, "and thee killed her. Thou expect her to be grateful? When thee have only taken from us?"


    Constantine bowed his head. Some of his friends had died during the battles with the outside as well.


    "Papa always says we should be rational and serve our own best interest," Ada insisted, "and it''s in your best interest to be nice to us. So just be nice."


    "Pecorath will accept any deprivation not to please her captors." Liorin explained, "thine policy of rewards will break her. And I will lose another dear friend of mine."


    "When you are nice to us, we don''t just give you a reward," Will quickly invented, "all your friends too."


    "Uh-hm," Constantine affirmed, "you could save her."


    "I... I couldn''t..." The youngest elf said hesitantly.


    <hr>


    Lacrima still had not been able to obtain a lock for her front door. But a little bell hanged on a string to alert her should anybody come in.


    *ding*


    "Ah, the goblin father, just in time."


    "Happy to see me? That''s unusual."


    "You and I are allies now," she wrung her wrinkled hands together, "united in our service of Guth."


    "What were we before?"


    She ignored his question. "Take a look, do you recognize this face?"


    "No... wait that''s your apprentice."


    The young green haired girl stood motionless in the middle of the room, her eyes a vacant stare.


    The witch nodded, "Alpheba has the blessing of Guth, so I was able to pass her off as a witch''s apprentice. It took a lot of maneuvering to return her to my possession after my exile."


    Scratch didn''t look at the girl but at the woman. "...you know you have a lot in common with my familiar. You two should talk sometime."


    She pursed her mouth, which had the same meaning as rolling one''s eyes. "I am no servant of evil, Scratch. Unlike you I have never dabbled in dark sorcery."


    "No you just... mind control people."


    "Exactly. The children of the orphanage were to be my soldiers, and Alpheba was my prime weapon. She carries in her the most powerful curse I have."


    Scratch took a step back. "Like a bio-weapon? She''s not gonna go off, is she?"


    "Now then," Lacrima turned around and clapped her hands as to change the topic. "The fairy queen has send magical beasts after you, has she? That''s why you''re here?"


    "So you saw."


    "Lucky guess, fairy queens have a similar way of operating all over the world," she walked passed him to a shelf of things and began rummaging through her belongings. "When their reach is short, they enchant wildlife to fight in their stead. ''The denizens of nature will defend their home'' I do believe I''ve heard it described. Then, once the feybloom blooms and their power extends, the plants will do her bidding next. A sea of thorns and kudzu overtaking your buildings and industry..." she paused to look forlorn for a second, then she continued, "and finally the fairy army arrives.


    Mantis knights, fairy dragons... forest giants..."


    Scratch sighed, "I gather that we want to nip things in the bud before that happens."


    She turned around, "you gather right. We must steal the next feybloom before her power increases any further. And now that we''re allies, I shall trust you with my most powerful weapon to do so."


    She presented him with a golden trinket on a chain. It had the appearance of some predator''s boney jaws, locked in an open snarl.


    "I thought you said the girl was your greatest weapon," he said.


    "She is, take her." She urged him.


    Reluctantly, he plucked the jewelry from her ancient palm.


    "Now you are, ignorant, but you do know what a werewolf is." She stated.


    "Looks like a normal dude, but gets that time of the month?" He said sardonically.


    She pursed her lips again. "My Alpheba possess the power to transform at my command. Stand back."


    With a wave of her hand the life returned to the young girl''s eyes, but it was a panicked life, a shudder of fearful emotion.


    She pulled at her hair and screamed, and within a second, the mass of her light body bulged out of her dressed and a thick fur had sprouted.


    Landing on all fours was a massive wolf, as large as a horse at least. Its massive nails dug into the floorboards and the inferior wood splintered as it pounced.


    Thin green wires tightened around its body and it was reined back, growling angrily.


    "You''re not so easily shaken are you?" Lacrima praised Scratch as she was casting the magic.


    It occurred to him that a fight or flight response would have aided his survival chances had the threat been real. It was the goblin brain failing him once again.


    Her praise made him feel like a massive suicidal idiot, but he decided to smile and take the compliment.


    "So you can turn kids into animals... I think that''s been established," he said, "the first thing you did when we met was turn Ada into a frog."


    "This is no hex. Alpheba has been cursed." As she said it the wolf froze up and shrunk back down into a girl.


    "Well what''s the difference?" Scratch complained.


    "I am not keeping her in her wolf form, it asserts itself on its own accord. And the mana it uses is hers." Lacrima said, "the wolf spirit and its host are forever locked in a battle of control, each fighting for dominance of the mind and form. That is the curse of lycanthropy."


    "Okay? That''s kinda impressive I guess. But what''s the practical application?"


    The witch tapped her foot impatiently. "Chaos, death. What do you think? The lycanthrope is a murderous beast that is transported unknowingly into the beds of your enemy."


    "The beds of... the fairies?"


    "I should have known you wouldn''t be able to appreciate the goddess'' gift!" She snatched the item back.


    "Well help me understand. You put a lot of work in this?"


    "Yes."


    "You plotted and schemed for years, passing her off as a student and protegee."


    "Indeed."


    "And you did this so you could release a single larger-than-average canine behind enemy lines."


    "No."


    "Then I don''t get it."


    "Of course you don''t. You''re just a goblin, how could you? Lyanthropy is a spreading curse."


    "I... see?"


    The witched sighed deeply. "The goddess Guth has gifted me a curse that will create copies of itself in victims of the carrier. Alpheba is merely the initial carrier. From her curse, many more will spawn," she held up the teeth, "through her bite."


    "That''s her bite?"


    "Sympathetic magic. Anybody pricked by these teeth is, in effect, bitten by Elpheba''s wolf. So you can spread the curse." She put it in his hands again.


    "That''s..."


    "Now you see its potential, don''t you?"


    Scratch looked at the item uncomfortably. This bitch is crazier than I am.


    <hr>


    Werewolf


    Family: Demon


    Threat Level: E


    Reward: none


    A beast-like spirit taking possession of a human. Werewolves spread by biting and transforming others.


    Afflicted individuals can be recognized by a change in personality, making them more irritable and aggressive.


    When the spirit is at the peak of its power, it will take control of the body and transform it into that of a hulking direwolf. In this form, the demon is at its most dangerous.


    There is no listed reward for killing a werewolf, as adventurers do not have license to freely kill them. A werewolf must be brought to a church and exorcised, saving the unfortunate host. Only in cases of dire need may a guild member slay a werewolf, as they might with any other kind of person going berserk.


    That is not to say there can be no compensation for dealing with werewolves, individual quests are posted at a local level.


    It is not unheard of for bandits to wield this demon as a weapon. There are bandit towns in Blurich populated entirely by willing werewolves, who transform to travel and raid.

 Masters and Servants

    You''ve pried loose one treasure from each of your allies now, is that right?


    I wouldn''t say from each, right?


    I gave you that manabelt.


    Okay, one.


    Then you merged with the bandits, and you obtained a spellrod.


    Two.


    The lich gave you the lightning glove.


    Sure, but I can hardly use it.


    And the witch gave you the lycanthrope locket.


    ...and that''s all of them?


    I think so.


    Scratch paused to admire himself in the mirror. He was finely dressed once more, and feeling slick in his pinstripes.


    You could... take one with you.


    Those are all weapons.


    Exactly.


    If it comes to fighting, what I want is to escape, not to blow the joint up. I''d never get away unseen if I lightning the casino.


    Still, it''s dangerous.


    You don''t get the point of all this. It''s a victory lap. My enemies in the guild are gone, my in-law is moving out, and the new police chief is under my thumb. I''m walking around town as if I own the place, and I don''t need any weapons. Because that''s exactly what''s up.


    At least take a monster with you?


    Get off my back, mom. Jeez...


    -


    It was near the end of dusk when the sloop was moored at Eston''s harbor.


    Even with his rediscovered hubris, he wasn''t about to walk around town in broad daylight. So it was under the cover of night that the small team snuck onto the bricked streets of the city.


    "What say you?" Barbara asked, "you''ve never been here before, have you?"


    "It''s very... red." Scratch commented.


    "Yeah, you can''t really see it with this darkness. But when the sun''s out..."


    He didn''t need sunlight to see it. To his goblin eyes the red bricks and bauxite occupied all directions in his field of vision. In varying shades from carmine to cordovan, the city was an ember of fire stamped out of the ground. Though white and blue accents were present in arches and windowsills.


    "Come," she told him, "this is the place. One of Mac''s- I mean Lucky''s clubs."


    -


    The roulette wheel stopped.


    Card players looked up, while the dealer kept his eyes low.


    In the back one of the women crossed her arms.


    The hazy cigarette atmosphere was sucked out of the door when the goblins threw it open, replaced by a thick air of expectation.


    "You can go play," Scratch told the small gaggle of goblins he''d had brought with, and they gigglingly spread out over the room to gawk at the games of chance.


    The goblin patriarch strode confidently through the room, and gestured his girlfriend towards a chair.


    Lydia put the seat on top of a table, and then lifted him in it as he was about to climb on.


    Far from showing his status, it only accentuated their difference in size.


    Smiling away this small affront to his dignity, he began to clear his throat.


    The room was silent, all were staring at him.


    For humans, goblins were to be killed on sight. It was bizarre enough seeing one within the walls of the city, having to stand there and listen while it talked was dreamlike and surreal.


    "There is a thing I like to do for my children. A service if you will. I judge, I arbitrate, I make law, it''s a whole thing. And since you are now my children as well-"


    One of the patrons piped up. "I don''t serve any monster lord! If this is where-"


    Scratch didn''t even need to gesture as the bouncer wrapped his arm around the man''s neck and dragged him off.


    "Anyway... let''s take attendance... Kathia."


    A thin woman in expensive but faded clothes hurriedly stepped forward. "Yes, Papa Scratch, I''m here."


    "You fenced one of our high grade weapons to a trouble maker, is that right?"


    "No sir. I mean yes sir. I mean I didn''t know at the time. The Tanner boy, he was a trusted member, and high status, so..."


    "Did he say what he was going to use it for?"


    "Nothing about attacking adventurers, no sir. It was for the proving, you see. It was my thinking; better to have an ally than-"


    He held up his hand to stop her. "I have it on good authority that this won''t be traced back to us, the boy is dead after all. Water under the bridge as far as I''m concerned. Next one... Lucky."


    "I do have a name you know," the drug dealer said as he stepped forward.


    "But you''ll always be Lucky with me. Anyway, last I heard you thought you didn''t need me."


    "That''s... I''ve reflected."


    "You do have a debt to me after all."


    "I do have a debt."


    "And you cannot create Crimson without covert supplies."


    "Yes, Papa Scratch, I am in your service."


    "As long as you know... Mabel."


    The woman in the back raised her arm without stepping forward, "I''m here."


    "Mabel, you''ll be pleased to know that I''ve decided to keep you."


    "Ugh."


    "You can thank your sister. I told her she could take your place, but she''d rather not have you popped."


    "Thank you Barbara," she said with an annoyed tone. She had interpreted it as a literal command and she followed it reluctantly.


    "For now the two sisters can continue to manage either end of the smuggling route, so that''s that."


    He went on to call forth nearly a dozen guild members he had working under him.


    There was Stanford, the former bandit, who would heal criminals with injuries they couldn''t explain to other priests.


    There were contract killers, that paid the Promise to ambush their targets on the road.


    And there was a whole slew of con men, burglars, and loan sharks that paid weekly dividends to Scratch for their starting funds.


    For many of them it was the first time hearing of any of the other vassals, and it was a demonstration of power towards them that Scratch had gathered them all in one place.


    Near the end of the session, he called upon somebody that wasn''t paying him. "Mister Remus, how nice you could make it."


    "It isn''t any day I that I poaches for a dungeon master."


    Scratch''s eye twitched. His dark dealings were a sort of open secret, you weren''t supposed to mention them out loud.


    "Anyways, I ''aven''t gots the direwolveses yet. Don'' live in dis area y''see? Gotta move ''em ''ere all the way from out west. Harder since you wan''t


    ''em alive. Wassit for? Like a guard dog?"


    "Something like that..."


    <hr>


    The fairy beasts had been disposed off, but the humans living in the Promise felt a lot safer knowing there was at least a contingent of hobgoblins between them and the outside world.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    So the children of the leaders had been given an activity to occupy themselves with outside the perimeter walls.


    There were gulleys between the farm plots holding different categories of crops. And one gulley had a straw dummy on a stick at the end of it, a failed scarecrow but a promising archery target.


    One by one the hobgoblins took turns shooting a real life enchanted elven bow.


    "Yes! I got the length! Did you see me get the length?" Ada boasted.


    Up until then all arrows had veered off target just enough to fly into the stalks of wheat or corn and become an unpleasant surprise for harvesters come fall. But hers stuck proudly into the dirt below the straw man.


    "A miss is still a miss." Felix ruled mercilessly.


    "Ah man! At this rate she''s gonna win!" Constantine whined.


    "Twas thy own hubris, expecting to best the elven eye," Liorin declared smugly as she accepted the bow.


    The hobgoblins had promised her a fresh water basin in the troll garden if she could best all of them in archery.


    "Did thee really think I would grant thee the time of day if there was any chance of not receiving my prize? Now watch and-" She stopped as she tugged on the bowstring but it did not budge.


    She had elven eyes, but she didn''t have the triceps of a trained elven archer. Somehow, she had underestimated the task after seeing the hobgoblins do it.


    "This is... hhnnng!" She arched her back and spread her legs just trying to pull back the arrow, but her upper body swayed so much from the effort that there was no hope in aiming.


    The hobgoblins found it highly comical and she crumbled from the sound of their mocking laughter.


    But she was suddenly embraced from behind, as two strong hands grabbed her wrists and straightened the bow.


    She began to panic. "Don''t touch-"


    "Shhh," Will shushed her from behind, he pulled her arm back and drew the bow that way. "I''ll pull it back, you aim."


    Her breathing was still wild and erratic, so he relaxed the bow and whispered into her ear what his father had taught him. "Breathe in deeply breathe out deeply. Breathe in lightness, breathe out the heaviness." As she followed his instructions she visibly calmed down, and her hands stopped shaking.


    Then he pulled pack again, and she lined up the shot.


    Just as she breathed out, she released the arrow.


    There were no magic bow arts invoked, no glowing arc of green, but the arrow flew far and true impaled the straw man exactly in the heart.


    "Yes! I did it!" Liorin turned around in Will''s arms and waved her finger close to his face. "I won your contest, I beat you!"


    "What? No way, that''s cheating!" Ada shouted.


    "She released the arrow, she shot the bow herself." Felix said.


    "Yes! I won! I won!" Liorin jumped up and down around the group.


    She came to a sudden standstill when she remembered she hated them.


    "I mean, you lot better keep your promise."


    <hr>


    It was an engineering challenge installing a freshwater basin in the troll garden.


    By design, the little hut was a short walk removed from any infrastructure at all. Only a muddy river seeped through the swampgras towards where the elves were.


    There was the cable car that had moved the dungeon core, but there had come to be a general consensus that it should be used as little as possible. Certainly not to carry bathwater to and fro.


    Naturally, the minister of waterworks was enlisted for the job.


    Surprisingly, Aimone saw no reason to either grumble or complain. He was polite and respectful towards the elven hostages while installing the small purifier.


    When it was done, the appliance had the appearance of a waist-high spire and would produce clean water from its tout when supplied with mana.


    "The Promise can do without its crystal," he told the oldest elf, "since we''ve completed the reservoirs it has naturally filtered water. And advanced Grienician engineering can carry it from the underground to the surface. So the magical sapphire belongs here."


    But she didn''t show much gratitude. "Very well, you may leave us."


    "Just glad I could make it that bit easier." He said.


    "We do not sanction the obscene trade for this water, and we do not sanction thou who honors it. Return to thy diseased master."


    "Hey! The goblins aren''t our masters, they-"


    "Return!"


    Where he would have laid in verbally on anybody else disrespecting his work so much, he bowed to the elf and left.


    "Why don''t you take it back if they hate it so much?" Asked Ada, who had been standing guard.


    He wrinkled his nose at her. "The hidden people are wise and ancient beings from before the birth of man, we owe them the very respect royalists heap on their kings. Not that a savage would understand any of that."


    "Bleh!" She stuck out her tongue and made a noise to refute his accusation of savagery.


    "Ugh, where''s your father?"


    "Gildo is showing him your reservoirs," she said contently, knowing it would annoy the man to have another show off with his work.


    -


    The first reservoir was quite large.


    It was final destination of filtered water before the newly installed pump could take it up to the surface. And it was deep enough to provide the whole village with water for two days.


    Because this was almost directly below the densely bricked square, the roof of the underground chamber was also heavily supported with brick arches and metal rods, making it look like an inverted fortress.


    "And this is the mechanism from below," Gildo gestured with his mote of light, "in these parts it''ll be quite unique. Only superior Grienician engineering can produce a water siphon without magic!"


    Coming down from the ceiling was a long thin pipe, equal parts silver and glass. It was the underside of the hand powered pump.


    Scratch took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Pistons separate going doing, get pulled tight going up, create suction?"


    "Uh... yeah. But understanding it in principle is quite different from doing it, you know." Gildo said, a bit hurt in his patriotic pride.


    The Grienician ability to figure things out without magic was supposed to be a special talent, since they were a nation of proles that had to survive without the resources of nobility.


    "And this is where excess drinking water drains into the underground river." He continued.


    This is more useless than the lycanthrope. Only I can control beasts, but water purification is a simple spell, any peasant can do it.


    I can''t. Which I''m sure you haven''t forgotten. And it''s good to have a big lake like this at our disposal. Scratch responded internally to his oldest ally.


    "So the second reservoir is past these stairs, but you really need to put out that fire when we get there." Gildo beckoned.


    "In a moment." And I''m not going through all this trouble with the direwolves just to have them. I need to put at least some token effort in Lacrima''s plan to keep her happy, she''s still vital to us.


    My champion, sucking up to one of Guth''s witches.


    I can''t afford to be macho, I''m three feet tall. Do I really need to kill a direwolf for each werewolf I get?


    The lycanthropy curse binds a wolf spirit to a body where it can fight the host for control. You need a ritual sacrifice to obtain the spirit in the first place. So as I said, it''s useless. Once you have a direwolf, just let me take hold of its senses.


    "It''s not to *have* a direwolf."


    "What was that?" Gildo asked as he led the way up the stairs.


    "Nothing, never mind." Scratch threw the cigarette on the ground and put it out with his foot. *Ritually sacrificed and trapped in a fight for control, no wonder they''re cranky.*


    -


    The second reservoir was a lot bigger and a lot noisier.


    "That sound is the underground river adding to the drainage!" Gildo shouted. "But you know how this works, it''s a filtration reservoir!"


    He held up his magical light to illuminate the wide and shallow lake, but Scratch could see in the dark. Knee deep below the water''s surface were rocks, which were layered upon gravel, which was layered upon sand. It was the very same kind of filter the goblins had once used, but on a much larger scale. At the far end, a man-high waterfall descended upon the tranquil water and the sound reverberated all the way through the sound chamber that was the cavern.


    "What''s that smell?" Scratch asked.


    "What!?"


    "I said what''s that smell!"


    "You''re smelling the runoff, which we''re filtering out! Look!" Gildo held his light to the ground, and the viscous green liquid that couldn''t pass through the mud was pouring out into thin channels between their feet. "It''s flammable! That''s why we can''t have torches here!"


    "This is... slime!?"


    Gildo beckoned once again.


    -


    Where the first reservoir had been big, and the second had been expansive, the third was enormous.


    There were levels to it. A balcony for observers and to operate large clay stirring tools, and a lower level of several baths and thin sidewalks, in which the slimes swam.


    "Agh, the smell!" Scratch retched.


    "You wanted to see it. Here''s all the filth we''re cleaning up for you."


    "If I remember correctly you were happy to leave most of the work to your colleagues."


    "Uhm... look. There''s several stages to this reservoir," Gildo quickly changed the subject, "inner reservoirs if you will. The sewage is rushed in from all the goblin nests at the ends over there. The large detritus sinks to the bottom and is scraped out, but there''s still middle stuff floating in the water. That''s the stuff the slimes eat in the big one below us, so only their runoff remains."


    "What do you do with the big detritus?"


    "Uhhm... I don''t know. Somebody takes it somewhere."


    The patriarch wasn''t satisfied with his answer, so he let his gaze glide over the collection of channels and baths. "It doesn''t seem to be moving."


    "It''s not continuous, but in batches. It takes two days for the large detritus to sink and for the slimes to clean their batch. So we move it all at once every two days. Open up the floodgates."


    "Somebody needs to be down here operating the machinery?"


    Gildo nodded. "And killing slimes when they grow too many. You''d normally use rank F adventurers, but I guess here you''d send down some goblins, right?"


    "Or you could do it."


    "Managgia. No way."


    <hr>


    "So, where are these mighty goblins that got you lot running, huh?" The lordling laughed heartily.


    "These are just the outskirts," the knight said. "If we''d try venturing into the warrens, we''d be quickly overwhelmed."


    "Nah, I''ve killed hobgoblins before. I''ll protect you if it comes to that."


    The knights looked away. They couldn''t so rise against the youth''s put downs, they were designated as his retinue after all.


    "Shake it off," one said to the other, "the spoiled brats get filtered out, that''s what the proving is for."


    "I heard that!" The brat said, "you lot better support me like Harkness said! I want to be in the warrens as soon as possible."


    "Ah, but the young lordship is asked to protect the farmsteads."


    "Yeah, yeah. But the glory to be won is in the warrens!"


    "Soon the saddle will be to hard for him and he''ll be running back to his family''s silken pillows." One whispered.


    -


    They had spend the entire month marching between farmsteads, instilling in their candidate a sense for the lay of the land.


    When the party would stay at a home, the peasantry would lavish the lordling with praise and attention.


    He was quite glad to be fawned upon by a set of farmer''s daughters in particular. "When I become baron, I shall have need of handmaidens in my new castle," he told them.


    So the father was more happy to see them off again.


    But impatience did gnaw at the man. Whenever a wolf or goblin reared its head within sight he would go galloping off to be the first to slay it with his massive warhammer. "Slim pickings again!" He complained, "Dieless, that bastard, has probably slain ten war parties already with her elven archer. Why didn''t I get an elven archer?"


    "The goblins don''t come to our homes, not while Papa Scratch is in the country," some farmer''s fat wife said at their last destination.


    Her husband tried to shush her, but the knights were already upon the poor woman. "Do not repeat such words in front of the nobility, who lay down their lives for your safety," one hissed.


    "Anyway, it should be about time we return to the fortress," the lordling said, distracting them from the argument.


    "But your lordship''s mission is to spend the night here."


    "We''ve spend the night at so many country hovels, and they never need protection. You heard the woman, there are no snatchings here."


    The knight nodded, "as long as his lordship knows what the terms of the proving were."


    This made him hesitate. "I mean... I''m not disqualified for not following the exact instructions, right? If I use my own judgment..."


    They said nothing.


    "Uh, on second thought, let us keep watch here anyway. It won''t hurt to get to know my future subjects. But once we''re back I''ll insist on a real mission."


    <hr>


    Proving Grounds: The Warrens


    By special decree of his lordship the count Stavort Huberdinger of Linefort, the greater Eston area is to be liberated by his champions.


    He or she that demonstrates the highest valor in freeing the people of Eston from the monster threat, will prove him or herself the rightful steward of their lands and earn the title of Baron.


    In this battle, mankind is defended by:


    Derrek Emberton, third son of the Emberton house.


    Yason Deets, second son of the Deets house.


    Feylina Dieless, legitimized heir to the Dieless house.


    Rubelina Corintha, fifth in line to the Rochester house.


    Sander Freeman, twelfth son to the Freeman house.


    And the quarries are:


    Lydia Harkness, the Brood Knight and commander of the hobgoblin troupe.


    Papa Scratch, the one-eyed general of the goblin army and enemy of the gods.


    Sybil and Auguste, twin dark sorcerers and commanders of shadow bandits.


    Lacrima, bandit witch.


    And Grienician subversives, of which there are four.


    Be at alert that an adventuring stay on the Goblin Warrens has been declared and no adventurer may reap rewards for slaying the quarries.

 Size Up

    The bulwark was a miserable spot.


    It had been created as a first defense against fairy creatures. But currently it was little more than a camp to send orphaned goblins in order to forget about them.


    When the original steward, Second, had turned against Papa Scratch and had gotten most of the residents killed in a failed coup, the project had lost much of the Promise''s favor.


    So the current band of brothers, those that had been adopted by the tiny fortress after that, were punished for the sins of their predecessors, in a way.


    Every day they''d eat scraps and gruel delivered by the capitol, and every day they fought strange beasts creeping out of the opposing forest.


    There was no mother to give them warmth, or replenish their numbers, and certainly no trade for the products of the colonies and outside.


    The brothers knew enough about the world to know that they had the least of it. Basically, they were not too far off from being feral goblins.


    So they were seduced into impossible ambitions when they were the first to face a new, mostly female invading force.


    A noble lady, dressed for an excursion but dressed fashionably, rode into the forest with a retinue of warriors.


    "Lady Corintha, we art being watched." The elven archer said, her eyes directly meeting those of Brat, who had thought himself properly camouflaged in his clay and leaves.


    The goblin quickly withdrew, making a rustling sound.


    "Splendid!" The lordling beamed. "Didn''t I tell you we would find real quarry here? Not in some wheat field."


    She spurred on her purebred white horse and rushed after the goblin.


    "My lady!" One of the knights cried out as she sank straight into a pit trap.


    -


    The whole bulwark was surrounded by traps and tricks. The orphans had been used to fighting this way already, but had developed it into a fine art having to deal with incoming fey beasts.


    "Are you unhurt?"


    "My horse!" Lady Corintha exclaimed, she was indeed unhurt, but the steed had been punctured by pungent sticks. It whinnied in panic, but didn''t move, as any twitch would send shocks of pain through its body. "Tell me you can save Pepper."


    The knight sighed. "We cannot lift him out of there. I''m afraid... we''ll have to put him down."


    The woman hesitated, but then nodded.


    A single arrow hit the animal in the back of the head, killing it instantly.


    The noble shed a single tear. "So this is what it means... the horrible tithes of war."


    There was an uncomfortable shifting between her retinue. Nobody wanted to pipe up and state that warriors tended to lose more precious things than their animals. The lady was considerably older them then, but clearly inexperienced when it came to real combat.


    "Let''s eradicate these subhumans!" She jumped to her feet and drew her sword. "We''ll avenge Pepper twice over!"


    "Please, get thee behind me." The Elf said soberly, "I will detect future traps."


    -


    But the goblins had some tricks up their sleeves that even the elf hadn''t accounted for.


    She inspected the ground and treetops, but wasn''t prepared for the trees themselves to burst open.


    Dead bark exploded around the invaders as goblins wielding nets and cockatrices burst out.


    The trees had been hollowed out to accommodate an ambush.


    Most fighters could not avoid meeting the gaze of the captive cockatrices, which the goblins had strapped on their heads, and those that could were much obstructed in cutting loose by their petrified brethren tenting the nets.


    It took a goblin half a day to break petrification, it would take the knights at least a few minutes.


    But one woman broke through it instantaneously, it was the aspiring baroness, Rubelina Corintha, that tore apart the leather rope and burst out of the hurly burly with a mad scream.


    The goblins that had rushed in on warg back to skewer the prone warriors immediately fell back as she jumped forward, shattering the spears with her fists.


    Leaving her retinue behind, Rubelina dashed forwards, after them.


    Even on foot she easily caught up to the wolf riders and slashed at them with her sharpened nails, splintering whole trees and dropping one of the subhumans to the ground.


    "Where''s the mini boss?" She panted eagerly, but then she noticed the ropes underneath the leafy dirt.


    Even without the elf''s help, she recognized a trap.


    Already celebrating their victory, the goblins cheered as they dropped a tree on her, whose falling weight simultaneously tightened the wires in front of her, throwing her off her feet.


    Thrown off balance she wasn''t able to dodge the falling weight and was pinned.


    It had always been the plan to separate her from her comrades and capture her.


    No longer able to contain themselves, the goblins piled on top of her. Their plan was to restrain, but most of their energy went into feeling her up and tearing at her fancy clothes.


    "Gross! Gross! GROSS!!" She yelled out and grabbed on of them by the head, instantly crushing his skulls against the tree.


    The others froze up. They had challenged an enemy far greater than they could ever have expected, the wise thing to do now would be to retreat.


    They looked at their dead friend, and then continued attacking the woman with renewed vigor, somehow believing in their hearts of hearts that the rage felt for their dead brother would grant them invincible strength.


    But the strength was hers, and a righteous fury of sorts as well, as she swore and began to chant a magic.


    She arched her back and dug her nails into the ground. "Summon weapon!"


    The sound of a blade being drawn rang through a muffled mass of podzol and less than a second later she was pulling something out of the earth.


    The weapon came out slowly, as she was pulling a massive clump of dirt alongside, but with her superhuman strength the man-sized monstrosity was lifted over her head and she smashed it down onto the tree.


    The impact was like a clap of thunder. Dirt and splintered wood flew everywhere as she completely obliterated the tree that had held her down in one swing.


    The goblins went flying as well, significantly hurt just from the collateral damage.


    -


    There stood Rubelina Corintha, aspirant to the title of baroness, in tattered clothes and holding a shiny longsword as heavy as she was. "I''ll show you the power of the Corinthas!" As she pointed the weapon towards the sky the earth groaned and cracked. Goblin traps all around her were sprung and fell apart when the dirt itself bulged and rose up.


    A large stretch of land behind her curled up and erected itself into a wall of vertical forest taller than any tower.


    Some trees slid out of the sideways forest and fell down, bombarding ground around the goblins with heavy wood. So that the earth they were sitting on was nearly as disturbed and upside-down as the earth she had raised, and they could no longer orient themselves between the flying dirt and noise.


    She then pointed the weapon at them, and they finally knew fear.


    The entire landmass descended upon the handful of goblins, crushing them into an early grave.


    The last object barreling down and piercing the loosened dirt was the metal plated Bulwark itself. The home they had been fighting to defend, tossed around like a projectile.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    -


    After slaying the goblins, the dame returned to save her retinue, but they had already shaken the petrification and freed themselves.


    "Did you see that!?" She boasted, "I got the goblins. How many was that?"


    "Twelve." The elf said, with much confidence in her sharp vision.


    This took the wind out of her sails. "...really? Only twelve? But I used my strongest spell on them."


    "There were only twelve to begin with, your ladyship. You killed all of them."


    "One horse for twelve goblins, not hardly a fair trade." One of the knights said.


    "Hhmpf," Corintha pouted, "and now I''m out of mana."


    "Your ladyship, were not instructed to venture into the warrens at all. Look at your mother''s vest, it''s all torn."


    "Yeah... you switch clothes with me."


    The female knight flushed bright red. "B-but... there''s goblins in these woods!"


    "Are you a knight or what? You can fend off some fodder, and you can keep the breast plate."


    Unable to disobey a higher born noble, the girl was forced to strip naked in front of her comrades and hand over her simple duds to the older woman, who changed into them.


    "I guess we''ll go back then," Corintha sighed, "I don''t want to find out what all this kudzu leads to without mana."


    "Kudzu your ladyship?"


    "Uh-huh, look at these ivy stems stretching all over the ground. They''re brimming with magic you know, a Corintha can feel these things."


    The elf brushed away the leaves, inspecting the expansive carpet of plant matter that reached towards the Promise. "Another trick by the goblin father?"


    "Who knows?" The lady was already walking off. "We''ll find out soon enough when we attack for real. I hope before that beast does at least."


    <hr>


    "Did you hear about the bulwark?" Huckabee asked Scratch.


    They were in a low ceiling''d back office in the basement layer. The goblin was adjusting his balance sheet for the various crime rings they were financiering. Imported paper was becoming too expensive so now the numbers were scratched into animal hide, and he was getting quite adept at it.


    "You''re quite slow, the bulwark''s rebellion was weeks ago."


    "No, how it was destroyed."


    Scratch put his ink knife away. "You''re saying the goblins were killed."


    Huckabee shook his head. "Not just that. Some of the wolves came by and your friends... uh... spoke with them. The whole base was ripped out of the ground and thrown fifty paces eastward.


    "The base was... we''re talking about the metal plated half-buried bunker. The bulwark."


    "Well yeah, but they''re in the proving for a barony, right? So they''d be like... C rank adventurers."


    Scratch crossed his arms somewhat indignantly, inviting the man to elaborate.


    Huckabee sighed. "You remember how much trouble the guildmaster was? Among the adventurers he was given a ''B rank''. That''s the power of a count. Someone like the boss is a knight, ''D Rank''. C rank is in-between that, so it''s not that surprising they would be powerful. Our previous camp was destroyed by the guild staff, and they''re rank C."


    "But that doesn''t mean tha- Wait hold up, I knew the knights were special or whatever... but barons trump that?"


    "Y- yes?"


    "And it keeps going like that? From baron to count to duke?"


    "Of course, I mean it''s the same with subhumans, isn''t it? From goblins to hobgoblins, ogres... what was it? Erklin, darklings." It seemed all very natural to Huckabee, the patriarch''s bafflement came as a surprise to him.


    "Yeah but... they''re like a whole new type of creature. Like, you need an elf or a lady knight."


    "Noble families are very particular about who they marry."


    Scratch pinched the bridge of his nose. "I see, so your fucked up eugenics program has the power to rip buildings out of the earth, and there''s half a dozen of them."


    "Yeah... well half a dozen ''Rank C''. There''s also still the army."


    "Excuse me?"


    "There are two elven archers that still have their enchanted bows. Three instructors from the Adventurers'' Guild. And every aspirant will have a retinue of knights. We might even see some exotic mounts, such as pegasi."


    "So you''re here to tell me we don''t stand a chance."


    "Actually..." Huckabee paused to conjure a mote of light between them. He had been nearly blind in the goblins'' dark basement the whole time, "I wanted to talk about getting a place in Eston. Since we control it now..."


    "Getting too hot under your feet, huh?"


    "No this isn''t because of-"


    "Well your timing isn''t very diplomatic. ''You''re fucked, I''m outta here.'' Is that your thinking?"


    Huckabee mulled a bit. "Getting out of the forest... getting a second chance... That''s all the four of us ever wanted. But now the others are dead and... I sort of owe it to them."


    Scratch nodded. "You know I''d move everybody there if I could. But some of us don''t have the option."


    Huckabee just stared at the floor.


    "You can go. I already have a place for you." Scratch said.


    "Really? Thank you-" Huckabee suddenly became extremely self aware about his deferential attitude towards a forest monster. "I mean, it''s been a pleasure."


    "Now to look for some replacements..." Scratch sighed.


    "Isn''t security mostly taken care of? With the troll and everything?"


    The goblin shook his head. "Not just for you. We need more women to fill up the outer colonies, and tradesmen to be more self sufficient. It''s horrible, like I''ve become a professional paper pusher."


    "Probably best to deal with the existential threats first." Huckabee opined.


    "That''s been my attitude for a while, but now things are piling up. And the witch wants me to start using her ''superweapon'' today."


    "Use it? The werewolf? How?"


    "Oh... you know."


    <hr>


    "I don''t want you back there." Scratch was admonished one of the Promise''s goblins that had come along to Eston.


    "But I-"


    "No buts, last time you tried to actually wager your mother. You''re not going to win at roulette''s, Haruto. I don''t believe any of you have the mental capacity to understand the odds of a casino. No sense of the risks, any of you."


    "Scratch. What are you doing?" Lydia asked him.


    "I''m just chewing out this dunderhead for- Oh you mean the wolf."


    "I do mean the wolf."


    The two goblins were standing on a direwolf. The beast had been forced on its back and bound to the four pillars surrounding a stone platform. Its raging maw was only just prevented from chomping and thrashing Haruto by a few taut metal wires.


    The whole affair took place right next to Lacrima''s port side cabin, under the gaze of one of Guth''s statues.


    "It''s a werewolf thing," he told her, "ask Lacrima."


    The witch and her apprentice were standing by the side. "Your Scratch will now proceed to harvest the first raging beast spirit for my moonlight curse," Lacrima was rubbing her hands in anticipation, "and so decades of planning will come to fruition. This will demonstrate my power, you can be sure of that."


    "Just... let me do it." Lydia sighed, "it could be dangerous."


    "Sure, no problem." He tossed her the sacrificial dagger. A nasty yellow thing with a blade that twisted like a snake.


    Lydia took their place as she jumped up on the chest of the giant beast, staring intently in its maddened eyes.


    Scratch turned to Lacrima. "I''ve been thinking about what to use it for."


    "Yes?"


    When Lydia brought down the blade onto the wolves throat, it spasmed in hate and terror and partly broke free.


    A duel of sorts ensued, with the wolf trying to kill his attacker while still restrained to two pillars, and Lydia jumping around acrobatically in order to dodge its attacks and maneuvering to strike at just the right place.


    "If we infect goblins with it, we can use it as a power-up instead of a curse. We could turn into wolves when facing powerful enemies." Scratch proposed, entirely unconcerned about the fight that had broken out.


    Lacrima shook her head. "The direwolf spirit won''t allow its host to tame it so easily. And besides, the curse can not transform an entity into anything with more power than its own potential, no magic can. Perhaps if you used regular wolves..."


    "Hold up," he touched her arm just as the direwolf was finally put to rest.


    Elpheba''s eyes rolled back into their sockets and she spasmed wildly, breathing in the freed up spirit of the direwolf with a ghostly gasp.


    "You''re telling me we can use any type of wolf?" Scratch asked.


    "Any type of beast. Why?"


    "Because importing mega-fauna is expensive. We''ve got wolves."


    -


    "This werewolf business better be powerful." Lydia sighed, next to the dead wolf. She hadn''t even broken a sweat. "Because the Bulwark was just annihilated by an aspirant."


    "I heard. I also heard they''re the result of a freaky eugenics program."


    "That is not a word. We''re in the endgame now. Threats to our existence can''t possibly become any more absolute than this."


    "I see, I figured they''d wait a few more days for the weather to clear. Seems like they called my bluff...." Scratch tapped his foot.


    "I will send out armored infantry to the outer colonies. If they clear the stone quarry. That''s a straight line''s march to the first gate. And there are some other key corridors as well."


    He gave her the glad eye. "You''re quite knowledgeable."


    "Well... I mean..." she blushed, "I''ve been defending these lands. For a bit of time now."


    Lacrima smiled into the far off distance. "This will be the perfect opportunity to use the curse."


    Alpheba cast her eyes down.


    "Really?" Scratched asked, "you don''t want to save them up and go all at once?"


    "A proving is a way for the aspirants to prove to the peasantry they are able to protect them," the witch continued, "if they become a threat to those very subjects, it becomes impossible to ever rule over them. Take away their prize... and the attack should cease."


    I should have known you''d pick the difficult option. Scratch thought to himself. We could have just turned some farmers and catch them unawares but you want me to bite a grand poobah to discredit them. The sooner we get rid of you the better.


    "Well it''s good that we''re both contributing. But I do need to remind you that there''s a larger plan for getting rid of dad''s army."


    "You have a strategy? What is it?"


    He tapped the side of his head. "The one thing that will destroy a military, no matter the size, experience, or technology. The single surefire blow that will completely cripple any army."


    "...what is that?"


    <hr>


    "Sir, the we''re running out of food."


    "What."


    Captain Harkness couldn''t even conjure up the inflection for a question mark. He was just tired.


    "Again? How?"


    "The thing is..." the young knight swallowed, "after last week''s fiasco... we haven''t been able to find an alternative supplier."


    "Last week''s rat infested shipment had destroyed their entire supply, and now Eston was dragging its feet on the replacement. The supply line to the city was supposed to be the lifeblood of a strong fortress, but Eston almost seemed almost to be on the side of their enemies.


    "Well. Be more assertive. Remind them that they have a duty to king and country." He told the young knight. "Relay that to Beauregarde."


    "Yes sir... and for the next week?"


    "I''ll worry about that. Now go."


    -


    It was a sensitive subject to bring up to the lordlings.


    They had come there to slay monsters, but were now caught up in a logistics quagmire.


    "Nyaaah! Who needs their crackers and dried meat anyway? Mweh. I can hunt my own food." The beast girl said while stretching.


    "Not everyone here was raised like a beast in the wild, Dieless." One of the others said, half under his breath.


    "Oi!?"


    "Hunting. Magic. These can only just provide for yourself." Captain Harkness explained. "You now have a squad to lead. And a fortress to maintain.


    The incursion is stalled. You must go to the farmsteads and buy their produce."


    "But the harvest is not until fall, what reserve''s they have would be for their own..." One of the boys said.


    "Nyah, do we keep that much gold inside the fortress?"


    "It is less than ideal. You will be paying on the king''s credit. Do not force them to give up more than they can spare. Naturally. But the fortress musn''t starve either."


    When the knight captain had left, the aspirants bickered about it amongst themselves.


    "Another week?"


    "What''s wrong Rubelina? Does that set your kill count back by another eight goblins?"


    "I''d love to see your hundred slashes go up against my landslide, Derrek."


    "At least we''re all held back at the same time."


    "Nyah! When they set me loose I''m going straight to the Promise, haha!"


    "Still..." one said, "it doesn''t seem right...."


    <hr>


    Beast Race


    Family: Abhuman


    Strength Level: D to A


    Members of the beast race are abhumans, recognizable by their animal features.


    Due to their unusual features, they were long classified as belonging to the beastman family of monsters.


    The beast race possess human features, except for their tail and ears. Their animal features can be of a cat, dog, or rabbit. Humanoids with other animal features are not members of this race but dangerous beastmen.


    The adventurers'' guild allows members of the beast race to join. However, it must abide by local law, and abhumans in Blurich must be accompanied by a human master if they are to carry weapons.

 Knee Deep

    It was an awkward situations for the nobles to have to beg peasants for food, and not all of them could do it with their head held high. Several fell into an authoritarian tone in order to preserve their sense of control, and they had to be reeled back in by their knights.


    And while they were spending their time negotiating with farmers, goblin troops were mobilizing.


    By the time Derrek Emberton had the opportunity to officially start his foray into the warrens, there was a mess of traps and warg skirmishers waiting for him.


    "Forward you damn near peasants!" He shouted at his retinue. "If we lose them again I swear I''ll-"


    "Cut it out!" One of the knights broke protocol to call out the lordling directly. "Rochast has a broken leg. Half the group is separated and disoriented. We don''t need any more glory hounding from you. A real commander would know when to admit defeat and divert his energy to regrouping."


    Emberton bit his thumb in frustration. "We''re over the worst part now. Once we get rid of the stragglers we can clear the nest and-"


    "Even IF we were in any state to chase down warg riders, we can''t siege the nest like this."


    "What-"


    "Warrens nests are fortresses your lordship! They''re not just the place to find the most monsters to kill they''re vital strategic targets. We can not leave the nest to goblin power if we want to clear the area of danger, but we can not take it as we are now. We *need* to regroup."


    The knight had spoken out of turn and fully expected a tantrum or chewing out from the young noble.


    But Emberton furrowed his brow and nodded. "Fine then. We''ll regroup. I''d just hate to know Rubelina Corintha is ahead of me and breaching the inner warrens."


    <hr>


    Rubelina was ahead of him, but hardly breaching the perimeter wall that separated the favored from the unfavored colonies.


    Instead, she and her retinue had fled from a swarm of dragon bats in what looked like an abandoned overgrown tower.


    "By the size of this Ivy, this place must have been left to the dead long before the Brood Knight set up shop here." Said the guild staff member, the halfling mage that had led them there.


    "No," the lordling said, "this stone is new. It looks like the estate manors that weren''t build until last year."


    "How can- There."


    The elven archer had already seen movement when she pointed and loosened an arrow, skewering a goblin.


    She stretched her neck to inspect the thin pockmarked wretch from so far away. "A feral thing. No herald of evil."


    "Why are we still fighting feral goblins if we''re so far into the territory?" A knight asked the mage.


    "I don''t know! You think I have a summer home here? I''m going off of the map just like all of y-"


    "Shh!" Corintha summoned her sword.


    The vines and leaves were moving. Dragging over the stone until they snagged on one thing or another and were pulled taught.


    The task force took a few steps back as cracks formed in the young brick and an entire section of building was dragged away from them.


    "The wrath of the fey!" The elf exclaimed. "That is what made ruins of this place. Why the servants of evil hath abandoned it. Your ladyship, we must flee!"


    "Flee? Hark! Are we not here to brave danger?" The lordling swiped her longsword at the grasping vines still underneath them. "Men! Take position!"


    As the group took on their formation new plant matter crept towards them. This time they were coursing past the cold stone and towards the hot skin.


    Teethed flytraps were budding from the vines and snapping at the soldiers.


    They were able to fight off the many branches, until the earth shook and an enormous honeycombed sack of fluid appeared in the open up hole.


    The plant pod was an uneven organic bulb with many warped holes like a lotus seed pod. A buzzing came from within as countless glowing fey insects emerged to attack them.


    "Cover me!" Said the mage, "I''ll cast a fire spell."


    The bees seemed to recognize her aim, because they flew directly at her.


    The knights jumped in to protect the spell, and to great personal sacrifice, because the vines tore into them and the bees were not easily slain either.


    But not for nothing, as circles of magical energy appeared soon after and the mage chanted her spell. "Rhada''s Barrage!"


    A rain of fire pelted the roots and pods, and the enormous sack of holes puled back. But the spell that had destroyed the entire bandit camp a year and a half ago was not enough to kill it.


    "After it! Time for the finishing blow!" Corintha yelled and jumped out of the tower.


    "Your ladyship, no!"


    "It''s vulnerable now. Just one more big attack, like a landsli-"


    She had her sword lifted into the air, but the ground would not follow. What earth she raised was strained against countless fey roots holding it down.


    "Ah! My special attack!"


    She was annoyed at the counter, but was quickly distracted by a wet thud onto the ground next to her.


    The headless body of the elven archer lay lifeless on the ground.


    "W-what?"


    This was the first time the woman had seen a person die. Just moments before she had spoken with the archer, and now she was an unthinking object.


    The summoned weapon slipped loose in her grasp and her stomach churned.


    The retinue she had left behind was not yet free of the onslaught of vines and thorns trying to ensnare them. They hadn''t left with the giant pod.


    "I''m out of mana!" The halfling yelled.


    "There''s no end to them!" The knight she had taken clothes from said. Not in a panic but in a frozen mortal terror.


    "If I can just kill the head..." the lordling said, negotiating with nobody. But her landslide attack had been blocked, catching up and taking apart the seed pod would take time.


    She grit her teeth and returned to the retinue. "I''ll cover your exit. We''re fleeing!"


    And so their advance was blocked and they retreated from the area.


    <hr>


    The movements of the disparate squads were closely monitored by the goblin forces, who employed wolven scouts that navigated the uneven forest ground with unmatched speed.


    The second month of Scratch''s wager with the demon had started. If in two months the demons hadn''t won, he had promised to consider


    Youthere''s darker methods. It all depended on whether his monetary control of Eston could really stop the fortress as he had claimed.


    Because of all this, Scratch was there himself at the edge of the perimeter to confront an approaching lordling.


    "Do you want to be here? You always say the colonies are for you to hide behind." Will asked.


    "For all of us, but *you''re* here."


    "...yeah."


    The whole family was there, on top of the gatehouse. The hobgoblins had a natural disregard for danger, and their mother''s beliefs on chivalry weren''t helping.


    There already was a small army of armored goblin infantry stationed at each gate, but they were there to bolster this one with pluck and magic.


    "Besides, I have an assignment from the old lady." Scratch dangled the tiny set of jawbones in front of his son.


    "Wow! ... How does it work?"


    "It''s magic."


    "I see."


    "I''ve got to nick someone with it, that''s all."


    "But then you have to get close."


    The father nodded, "we''ll have to capture someone alive."


    "Hrm..." Jasper croaked unhappily behind them.


    "Yes? Is there a problem?"


    "The wolves should have come back by now... to tell us how long until..."


    "The scouts haven''t returned? Scratch stood on his tippy toes to look over the balustrade, that''s a bad sig-"


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    -


    A horizontal slash of air flew through the forest, shearing the trees of their top half and then colliding with the equally wooden perimeter gate.


    They were all weightless for a second, in free fall and completely disoriented.


    Then the ground hit them, alongside an industrial amount of splintered wood clattering down.


    The ground was painted by a sudden splash of blood, and the best protected goblins, in their steel armor, were the most hurt from the fall.


    The hobgoblins pushed the debris off them and immediately went to work healing themselves and others.


    Before they had really regrouped and reoriented, the enemy that had fired the attack stepped into view.


    "Nyahaha! I knew those stiffs were slowing me down. I already have my first quarry! You''re Papa Scratch, come on then, fight me! Rawr!"


    Scratch had been the first to receive healing. He uprighted himself when his family was still in disarray.


    "That giant scythe, you can do that whenever?" He asked her, already wrapping the chain of the wolf amulet around the palm of his hand.


    "Hrm? I have to do a chant, and there''s a mana cost."


    "Good." He stepped out in front of the debris and splayed himself out like Bruce Lee. "Let''s do the honorable thing and make it a one-on-one."


    The next thing he knew her claw-like nails were a hair breadth away from his face.


    "No. Papa!" Ada yelled from behind.


    -


    Blood splattered in the air, but the woman broke her momentum by suddenly twisting her body and rolling out of his range. "Meow! I''m not stupid ya know. I can guess that thing on your hand''s cursed. What is it? Instant death? Does it turn me to stone?"


    Scratch''s face had been cut open, such that his teeth were visible from the outside. "You know, you don''t talk like a lady."


    "Eh," she rushed at him again. His martial technique could usually compensated for his lower speed, but she was expertly trained as well. And changed direction last second to account for his dodging, digging her nails between his ribs. Then she created distance again.


    He sunk to one knee.


    It was clear that she could have done worse if she weren''t so cautious of his amulet. "I was raised on the streets. My father had rejected me, but he had to recognize me as his daughter when I showed my power!"


    She emphasized the last word with another mad dash forward, forcing him back on his feet and down on the ground again in a desperate dodge roll.


    "Is that why you''re here? To show him your power?" He grunted through his pained breathing.


    He was trying to stall time with conversation, but she didn''t seem to have any issue talking and fighting at the same time.


    "Nah, that castle was stifling me. Mweh! What I like is the chase!"


    "Heh, like a cat."


    "Oh? Do I seem cat-like to you?" She put a clawed finger to her lip and put on a ditzy expression.


    The little pause and gesture was all the opening he could hope for and he scrambled to his feet trying to run away.


    But she kicked him in the back and forced him onto the ground. "Very disappointing, nyah! I thought the leader would be stronger."


    "Finally..." he gasped.


    "Finally what?"


    "Finally I got you standing still."


    A gleaming steel gauntlet half her weight flew into her. The troll daughter throwing a punch with all she had.


    The colliding bodies moved six feet, but the cat girl kept to her feet, sliding along on the ground on her claws. "I knew you''d try to cheat. Good. It wouldn''t be a fair fight otherwise. Meow!" Her hand was on the gauntlet, blocking and grasping it tight.


    It cracked.


    The girl hugged the troll''s arm and threw her aside.


    Bree mewled as she nearly broke her back against the stem of a freshly trimmed spruce.


    "No, Bree!" Ada yelled.


    -


    By now the hobgoblins had more or less recovered, and had taken up position in front of their father, while the armored goblins were taking up formation behind.


    Jasper was already healing him, and Ada had her whip sprawled out on the ground, ready to punish the enemy if she got into her range.


    However, the cat girl closed the distance before she even had time to react. A sudden burst of movement launched her between the hobgoblins and right at arm''s length from the father again.


    He jumped and stretched out his arm with the amulet again, making her dodge and cancel the attack once more.


    "That pendant..." she hissed, as the hobgoblins shuffled between her and their father again. "What does it do!?" She asked him. "In the civilized world, we explain what our gimmick is to our opponent if we have one."


    "You first then." Scratch spat. "You''re using magic to move that fast, aren''t you?"


    "Meow! I''ve got an affinity for wind magic! It''s a haste spell."


    He glanced over his shoulder, horns were being blown to alert defenders of other gates. "I thought I recognized it. I have a friend that can move like that."


    "I don''t think so. Not like me. Now tell me about your magic weapon."


    "This thing?" He unspooled it from his hand. Happy to finally keep her occupied. "It turns people into wolves."


    "Wolves?"


    He had already seen her coming so he whistled as if giving a command and Wendy the windwolf jumped off of the wall in front of the hobgoblins.


    The cat girl tried to line up for another sudden launch forward, but the windwolf matched her speed and prevented her from easily giving herself a tactical advantage.


    Eventually she resolved by attacking the wolf directly. After a feint she managed to kick her in the chest and send her flying with a pained yelp.


    "No, Wendy!" Ada yelled.


    "Uhm, Ada, we got it by now." Jasper whispered.


    -


    The hobgoblins were now speaking from behind the walls of a turtle formation.


    The heavy infantry had surrounded them and blocked them.


    "I''m getting bored of this. Just die." The cat girl sighed and lashed towards them.


    However, her nails bounced off the rusted armor. "What?"


    She tried kicking them over, but with their shields locked together the strength of the goblins was more than the sum of their parts.


    And now she was in range of the hobgoblins'' melee weapons, which poked between the shields and drew blood.


    "It''s not fair, you said you would duel me one-on-one."


    "That''s because I needed to buy time for my kids to do this," Scratch''s voice sounded from somewhere deep inside the turtle. "You''ve got a lot to learn about being a leader if you''d ditch your unit like that. I''m not here because I thought they were gonna send, like, the strongest guy ever. I''m here because I expected a war band. I have it on good authority a single person can''t break through a shield wall, and if they did they''d just get themselves surrounded."


    "Shut up. There''s only, like twenty goblins here. A baroness can slay twenty goblins." She had now lost all cat-like affectations. "I just need a big attack."


    She took a few steps backwards and began to cast a spell.


    Crossbows were readied to interrupt her.


    "Dower''s... swo- Ah!"


    It wasn''t crossbows, but the kicked windwolf that had bitten into her arm to stop the attack.


    "Bitch!" The cat girl slashed at her with her other arm and ripped open her throat. "I hate dogs!"


    "Hey!" Scratch belted out. "Do you have enough mana for another spell? Because if you''re left without mana after your big attack, you''re not getting away, I''m turning you into a wolf."


    Reinforcements were already gathering at the destroyed gate, goblins on warg wolves, bandits, and even some armored goblins had followed after Wendy.


    "Tch." The cat girl began to walk backwards into the forest and then ran away.


    -


    "Is Bree okay?" Ada asked.


    They retrieved her from the ditch she had been thrown in.


    She was in serious pain, and Jasper didn''t have any mana left to heal her, which he kept explaining over and over again.


    "I think that''s the strongest opponent we fought without anyone dying." Felix said proudly.


    "What about the Ravenous Lich?" Ada asked.


    "Does that count as a fight?"


    "It felt like a fight to me."


    "Somebody is dying." Will said indignantly.


    Scratch was cradling Wendy as well and good as he could with his little arms. "Will you be okay, old girl?"


    He had come to understand the warg wolf language well enough to understand her garbled response. "*I am now on the verge of the great beyond, my friend. I have lived well beyond my years and at the end of my life I am left with no regrets. I only wish I could see for myself the great fruit of our labour, when finally our kingdom spans these lands between the works of man.*"


    He brought his mouth to her ear. "I can grant that ambition. Instead of death I can give you eternal life, will you let me?"


    She closed her eyes. "Make it so."


    From inside his sleeve Scratch retrieved the snake-like sacrificial dagger.


    "What are you doing?" Will whispered in shock as he sunk the weapon into the beast''s chest.


    <hr>


    "Good heavens, look at this mess!"


    Alpheba had just been carrying a plate of ceramic tea cups when her eyes rolled back into her skull and she breathed in greedily to absorb another soul.


    "I am terribly sorry about my *silly* apprentice. She is but an orphan I picked up from the street, you see?" She told her guests as she pushed the girl out of the house and began to clean up the shards.


    "Did that child just consume a damned soul?" The woman asked.


    "Oh... haha. You can tell..."


    "One does not become proficient in the workings of dark sorcery picking up on such things." Her twin brother said, "especially when it concerns simple magic."


    "Well, deary, these are just the little tasks I occupy the goblins with while we discuss the true future of this camp."


    "We can no longer speak of a bandit camp," the sister said, "this is a dungeon."


    "Of course, of course," the witch presented them with new, pristine cups.


    "For you to regain the Liege''s favor, the dungeon must be brought under our control."


    "Well..." she wiped the front of her dress before she sat down, "the Liege knows my loyalties haven''t changed."


    "Indeed, that''s what concerns him."


    The brother leaned in to speak. "You will still be allowed to worship your goddess, but you must answer to our lord. Then all the treasures above the ground will be yours."


    She gave a broad thin-lipped smile, "we''ve discussed the terms of my defection before."


    "It bears repeating."


    "Please, drink your tea."


    The twins looked at the cups, then each other, and resolutely put them aside.


    "When the war party returns," the sister said, "you must strike down the head. Do you understand? It''s the goblin, Scratch, that needs to be destroyed. Those are the terms of our agreement."


    "Once Scratch is destroyed, the money lenders will lose their power," the brother explained, "the city will return to our control. We will orchestrate for our favored candidate to receive the barony, and the existence of the dungeon will be covered up. But you must play your part for that to happen."


    The witch didn''t look them in the eyes. "You''ve learned your lesson regarding unknown liquids, haven''t you?"


    "What did you say?"


    "Not that I''d resort to poisoning you. A witch has more powerful tools at her disposal!"


    The sorcerers jumped to their feet, throwing the seats back.


    "I''d be allowed to worship my goddess? My, how generous of you!" She roared.


    "You''re making a big mistake!" The sister yelled, not quite sure what they were being threatened with yet.


    "For years that larvate master of yours has disrespected our guild. Become his underling? I am ashamed that I ever considered it."


    "Why isn''t my magic..." The twins balled their fists trying to summon mana, but they were powerless.


    Lacrima smiled. "Not the tea is poisoned, but the air, ''simple magic'' from the moon goddess. It''s a curse, and curses consume the target''s own magic to complete."


    They tried to charge at her, but their feet were stuck to the floor. "What have you done?"


    "My much neglected job as a witch. Or had you forgotten dark sorcery is an anathema to the goddess?"


    The petrification had progressed up to their waists. "You won''t... serve your goddess by... ugh," the sister struggled, "throwing away your only path to the Fairy Queen."


    "That is how you''ve survived until now. But the goblins have provided a better path, one more pleasing to the goddess. Believe me, I take *great pleasure* in finally ridding myself of you."


    "Damn... you..."


    "Oh Alpheba!" The witch called her apprentice back in, just in time to see the panicked faces of the sorcerers twitch and turn to stone. "Make sure these things end up on the bottom of the sea, will you? Somewhere the curse won''t be dispelled."


    "But I can''t carr-"


    "Make. Sure of it."


    "Yes master."


    "Good. I will be observing the battle, since I seem to have wagered my life''s work on one side winning."


    With those words, Lacrima took on her owl form and flew out of the underground hut, leaving her apprentice to clean up a difficult mess.


    -


    But before she could spread her wings over the skies of the forest, the owl was cast in the shadow of a flying beast.


    A formidable dragon circled above the Promise, with a rider on its back. A noble dressed in shining armor.


    <hr>


    Poison Ent


    Family: Plants


    Threat Level: C


    Reward: 50 gold


    The avenger of the forest. Poison ents attack cities and fortresses near forests. Their target is the wood and stone of the settlement, not its people, but it will become enraged when attacked. Settlements that have been attacked by a Poison Ent will have the appearance of being overgrown and ancient.


    Recognize the Poison Ent by its bulbous seed pods and chomping vines. Fully grown it stands the height of a castle.


    When among civilians, adventurers should allow the population to evacuate before enraging the Poison Ent, so that it will not target them. Remember that you can be held responsible for unnecessary deaths during monster suppression.


    The Poison Ent is vulnerable to fire and poison, it will attack from multiple directions using its chomping vines, so area of effect damage is advised.


    The seeds of the Poison Ent are used to attract Earth Dragons, and can be sold for 7 silver each at the Guild House.

 Desperate Times

    While his competitors had been struggling to get past goblin armies and fey, Yason Deets had taken his retinue for a leisurely flight on a set of borrowed wyverns.


    There were barely any creatures to bother them high above the Warrens. Only the odd dragonbat and stormquail.


    And once they had reached the Promise, there was only the witch to defend it. All goblin troops and high ranking bandits had moved out to defend it at the borders.


    "Hey, easier than it seemed, huh?" He gestured around him to the empty street. "We can thank the lord of Linefort for lending me those mounts, he''s singlehandedly handed me the barony. Let the others get their quarries, who cares? I was the one that took the capitol."


    As he spoke the knights lined up a smattering of non-combatants on the streets. Workmen and traders that hadn''t gone to fight.


    "We can not hold this place without a rotation of guards," one of the knights said. "We need a secured root between here and-"


    "You think I''m stupid!?" He kicked her. "Yeah we haven''t really conquered it until we can link it up to our territory. But that''s a given anyway. We leave that to the others and *I* take the glory." He became briefly self aware. "None of you tell the captain I said that, or else, huh?"


    The knights pretended to take his threats seriously, as they walked through the small town and towards the manor at the back.


    "Oy, what''s that?" He squinted as he began to make out a young boy in a tall cage.


    The boy was dressed in a torn uniform, and the cage was tied to a small stone pedestal.


    He sat on his knees, defeated, and covered in blood and dust.


    "A knight''s academy uniform!" The kicked knight exclaimed, "your lordship. An individual by description has-"


    "The witch is known to experiment on children. I know."


    -


    As they approached the boy did react. Seemingly too damaged to even acknowledge a new face.


    But if they had been keener, they would have noticed the calculating glances from the corner of his eye, eagerly observing their every step.


    "Ugh, what''s that smell!?" Deets recoiled at the stench of death coming from where the cage stood.


    "Little boy, what''s your name? Why do they keep you here? What is the last time you bathed?" A knight asked somewhat undiplomatically.


    "Bath? What is... bath?" He looked up with sad eyes.


    "That''s it. I''m getting you out of here. How do I get rid of these ropes?"


    "They can''t be untied. If only there was some fire around to burn them..." The kid sighed.


    "Fire, of course. I can-"


    "Lancaster, you fool! NO!"


    The warning came too late.


    When the knight lit up a flame, it ignited the gasses escaping from the sewers below. Both he and the boy were engulfed in a sudden green flare exploding from below.


    Lancaster dove to the ground and screamed in pain from the burning.


    From within the inferno a silhouette was cackling maniacally, still being burned.


    "It''s a demon." One of the others groaned. "We were warned about there being a demon. Too small to be an incubus, but some sort of humanoid.


    "Well it''s not a fire demon," Yason Deets said, "at least it doesn''t look like it. So just let it burn, it''s fine."


    -


    The demon did eventually stop laughing, before the burning gas had run out the burning skin of his face had fused together and laughter became impossible.


    It didn''t temper his mirth. Only when the knight that had gotten burned received healing did he sober up a bit.


    "Demons... they''re evil in its purest form..." Someone said.


    "How do a handful of bandits tame an army of goblins and summon an incubus?"


    "Your lordship, down here! It''s a dungeon!"


    One of the knights had found the engraved doors in the back of the atrium and pulled them wide open. A ghostly chill emanated from the depths.


    "There you have your answer!" Deets beamed, "dark sorcery is at play."


    "Then you must go in."


    "Who said that?"


    The demon had pried his bleeding lips apart and whispered with a painful rasp. "Inside these catacombs lie the treasures of my master. If you are to be lord of this place, these treasures are yours."


    "Mi-lord you must not listen to him. Demons only speak lies."


    "I know that!" He yelled at the underling but glanced doubtfully at the tiny prophet.


    "They will ask ''what have you done to secure the capitol?'' What will you tell them?"


    The aspiring baron looked torn for a moment, then resolved something. "Okay, you, you, and you. We''re going in."


    "Your lordship!"


    "We cannot know what monsters will emerge from there. While the rest of you guard the wyverns, we go in and take a quick pulse of the situation."


    "It''s dangerous."


    "I''ve cleared dungeons on my father''s estate before." He slapped the knight''s back and took him aside, "the demon doesn''t know I have the


    Escape spell. Rest assure that I foresee a trap and am prepared for it."


    The knight looked up and gathered some courage. "If that is your command, the family Bernhardt will always follow it."


    "And Aster!"


    "And Breen!"


    The other knights were quick to assert their own family honor.


    -


    And so a party of four, led by their ambitious lord, tread into the dark corridors of the goblin basement.


    Rather than take the path directly down, they explored the branching rooms one by one.


    The ceiling was too low for them, and the architecture crooked and uneven.


    "Make sure to stick together," Deets said, "that way nobody can get flanked or snuck up on."


    The candlelight spells floating around their heads made them a gleaming beacon in the dark cellar. Goblins could see them coming three rooms ahead from the beaming light coming through the doorways. So what they encountered were abandoned rooms. Dining tables, hearths, and water basins left to stand in absolute darkness.


    That and treasure.


    The gold of the colonies and the weapons of defeated enemies were tallied and displayed orderly next to the accounting records.


    "Argh! These chests are all mimics!" Bernhard cursed and healed his hand, while Aster threw the still chomping maw chest against the far wall.


    "We''re not here to loot," the lordling said, "that comes later."


    "You say. But we''re here to find monsters and the mimics are the closest thing to..."


    They fell silent as they came face to face with a small group of worker goblins.


    -


    Alpheba had recruited some of Barbara''s crop to help her haul the petrified sorcerers all the way up to the surface.


    The stone statues had been wrapped in relatively smooth leather and the goblins were pulling at the corners. They had done some lasting damage to the moss of the wolf den and were now stumbling over the stone tiles of the basement, with Alpheba leading the way, shedding some light from her wand for her own benefit.


    In their dedication they had not noticed or taken an interest in the goblins leaving the area, and they were now stunned to stand in a light flooded hallway in front of a bunch of armored men.


    After a moment of silence Alpheba suddenly dove to the ground. "Oh no! Goblins! Please save me!"


    "Little girl, how did you get here? Were you snatched?" One of the knights stayed behind to check up on her while his party dashed forward to chase and exterminate her captors.


    "I... I''m safe now. Thank you, my hero!"


    "But you weren''t tied down. Come to think of it... the way you were walking in front of-"


    The girl''s expression soured as he was turned towards himself putting two and two together.


    Yason Deets and his remaining knights then heard a loud crunch behind them.


    Suddenly there stood a massive direwolf in the narrow goblin tunnel.


    The head of their comrade rolled out its grinning maw.


    -


    There was no maneuvering or flanking the enormous beast in that corridor.


    Just the advancing maw of a berserking beast.


    The knights got in some good hits, but it did not stop the werewolf from charging forward and driving them back.


    "Stand your ground you cowards!" The lordling cussed as the knights turned tail and fled deeper into the dungeon.


    Dispersed they dashed madly through doors and curtains, seeing not even three paces ahead of them, until the floor underneath suddenly gave way and they were stumbling down a wooden stairway.


    -


    They landed in a soft moss.


    The space at the bottom of the stairs was lit with an uneven scatter of sunstone light.


    This was no longer a basement. The walls here were natural stone, and a green nature filled the place. There was even the gentle clattering of an underground brook.


    "It''s a werewolf," Deets seethed, "it''s not that strong."


    "She killed Breen!"


    "Well... it got the drop on him. A simple beast can''t..."


    They slowly came to the realization that they were not alone.


    More beasts were emerging from sleeping pods between the mossy carpet.


    The few warg wolves that had stayed behind to guard the pups.


    The roaring direwolf could be heard from somewhere upstairs, forcing itself through a passage it did not fit in just to get to them.


    "The escape spell! Cast your spell then!"


    "Do not presume to give ME orders! ... Fine I''ll cast it, keep them at bay."


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    -


    The warg wolves did not attack.


    They growled defensively as a magic circle began to appear around the dungeon delvers.


    "What''s taking so long!?"


    "Shut up and let me concentrate!"


    Before the lordling could finish the spell, Alpheba, the werewolf, burst out into the wolf den.


    She was caked in her own blood and torn skin. She was more hurt from her own struggles than from their weapons.


    An inhuman rage sat upon her face and her eyes dashed madly between all occupants of the den.


    She finally found the lordling and jumped at him.


    The knight pulled him out of the way.


    "Watch it! You broke the spell!"


    "My lord we have to run!"


    The servants were already absconding.


    Deets instead drew a sword and faced the werewolf.


    But he stood alone among a dozen more wolves.


    Once more he cussed and followed after them.


    -


    They slowed down as they ran.


    The werewolf was not pursuing.


    It had no goals or strategy, and was rabidly mauling the other beasts of the cavern.


    Slowed to a brisk walk they came across a fenced off pond.


    Many-headed geese were abiding in the little coop, seemingly unperturbed by the sounds of chaos and death.


    Guarding the entrance to the farm was a little girl. She had a thin rod to corral the birds with.


    "No! Get away!" She threatened them with the non-weapon.


    "What''s that?"


    "A bandit kid."


    "Great, more evil children."


    "I''m not evil, you''re evil! I''m Cobaline." She said.


    "My lord?"


    "I don''t want to find out what surprise this one has in store. Find me somewhere enclosed so I can cast the escape spell."


    "There!" The knight pointed at a wooden box set into the far wall.


    "Yeah, you better run!" Cobaline boasted as the moved away.


    -


    The warg wolves had downed the werewolf by now, and she had returned to the form of a girl.


    The wolf and the human were struggling for control and she snapped and whispered at herself.


    While the eldest were debating whether or not to kill her, the others were scouting to find the intruders.


    "Keep them at bay, I''m casting." Deets commanded. "Once I''m done we should appear at the entrance."


    The knights held out their weapons to hold off the wolves and after a few seconds, they became weightless.


    "Already? I was..."


    The lordling looked up, no longer seeing a mossy cave, but a blur of rock wall shooting up.


    Somebody had cut the ropes to the elevator.


    The knights looked at him with pleading eyes.


    Then the darkness behind the rock opened up.


    Their wooden box was falling through the air of an enormous underground cavern.


    There were roads, buildings, and orange lit industrial machines.


    "This dungeon is..."


    Bigger.


    It was so much bigger than any dungeon any of them had ever seen.


    "We never stood a chance, did we?"


    When the platform crashed into the ground, they died instantly.


    <hr>


    "What would you do if you were me?" Scratch asked.


    The knights stared at the ground like schoolchildren.


    There was no good way of answering that.


    "Because, you know, you''ve come here to eradicate me. If I let you go, will you get right back to it tomorrow?"


    More silence.


    "We can not kill prisoners." Lydia insisted. "The codes of war forbid it."


    "There are no codes for outlaws," Lacrima said. She had freshened up after her own defeat by the invaders and now barged in on the trial. "Kill them. It will be that many less swords against us."


    The most important people of the Promise had gathered around Deets'' remaining retinue.


    A wolf had alerted the defensive army and a task force had been sent back to defeat the occupying force the same day.


    Now they were stripped and bound in the middle of the square, tied to Youthere''s cage.


    "What''s a codes of war?" Ada asked.


    "Just a minute Ada," Scratch turned to the witch. "Lacrima, I just received word from the dogs and they tell me your apprentice is no longer allowed on the middle layer."


    "How can you receive word from a dog?"


    "Well they really barked at me about it. So keep her below, or up top. I don''t care which."


    "We can not be bound by the codes of war, because we are not protected by them." Barbara said, "many here are hopeful for a new identity in Eston. But now these men have seen their faces."


    "Saying it out loud you''ve definitely ruined it for them."


    Lydia began to explain the concept to Ada. "The codes of war are rules. We do not kill prisoners who are no longer a threat. That would be cowardly and dishonorable."


    "What? I don''t want to follow any rules if that means I die."


    "No sweetie you w-"


    "I mean if you''re gonna fight, you''re gonna do whatever it takes to win, right? If we can agree on rules, can''t we just agree not to fight then?"


    "No... because..."


    "There are levels of escalation." Scratch added. "You can agree on some things, even if you can''t agree on everything."


    "But why?"


    "Let''s see, what''s an analogy? You don''t like the girls in the troll garden, right?"


    "Yeah?"


    "And you''re always insulting each other."


    "... sorry..."


    "But even if you do whatever it takes to hurt each other''s feelings, you''d never escalate to actually land a punch, would you?"


    She looked away.


    "And even if you did, there''s a difference between getting in a fistfight and drawing knives on each other."


    Lydia nodded. "That ladder of escalation progresses all the way up to war."


    "And beyond."


    Ada''s face cleared up. "Oh I see. Because you wouldn''t be able to go back down if you esk-a-lait."


    "Exactly, this is important stuff for a ruler to know you know."


    "And none if it is in any way relevant!" Barbara nearly screamed, "because we''re outlaws and monsters! The knights of the realm capture and execute our kind daily. It has been escalated!"


    "I escaped the free-state of Ries, when it was besieged," one of the bandits threw in there. "We were a society of free and honorable men, but the king of Reddington declared us a bandit city so their forces would not need to be bound by the codes. I say kill them!"


    There was a murmuring and a hurrah and Scratch banged his gavel on the stone to calm things down.


    "Now I''ve done a lot of this sentencing stuff, and I usually let people go. That''s because I''m a big softie and don''t want to perpetuate the cycle of revenge. That''s a real belief I have, I have sacrificed for it, and I have benefited from it."


    He paused and looked around.


    "But those sentences are on the roads, in the woods. Even I can see there are more interests to keep in mind when they penetrate this deep..."


    One of the knights held up a hand, "if I may-"


    "You may not. Kill them."


    -


    There was no execution facility in the Promise, but the men were taken to the butchery to have their throats slit next to the livestock one by one.


    There was a sense of panic and despair. But even these younger knights had more dignity than to plead for their lives.


    "Well done master, I did not expect you to follow the codes of the forces of good." Youthere grunted through a raspy voice.


    "Christ you look like shit."


    "You have come to understand the power of evil. But you have only begun to shed taboo."


    Scratch looked at him up and down. The crowd had dispersed by now and he was debating giving the demon the time of day. He did look pitiable, ravaged by fire as he was.


    "I can feel the eyes of the lich''s familiar on us even now. He stands at the ready to deliver your message."


    The dungeon repelled most naturally occurring wildlife, so the solitary black raven at the top of the mansion stood out tremendously. Ever since it had delivered the gauntlet it had not left.


    Looking at it its gaze seemed almost intelligent and human-like. It was waiting for something.


    "Summon his power. Bathe your enemies in a sea of the undead. Once you''ve done that-"


    "Look I''m not going to do that, okay?" Scratch pinched the bridge of his nose. "And one of the main reasons is you. Talking like this. I can''t- I just..."


    "I want nothing more than for you to embrace the darkness."


    "Yeah that. That''s exactly what I mean. That''s an escalation of force. We''re not getting into this war of annihilation stuff, I''ve made that very clear."


    "Surely master, you do not believe that you have a choice in the matter? The goblin throng has a strong resolve, but it can be beaten down over time. When a suppressing army returns day after day for short bouts at a time, they can match the goblins'' ferocity and chip away their strength.


    As the goblins sustain more permanent losses."


    "Not this time, I control the supply lines into this place. It''s the silver spoons that sustain losses they can''t replace. There will be no battles after this next one. This is their last big hail Mary."


    "And you''re certain?"


    "I''m telling you, they''re out of it."


    <hr>


    "We''re not out of it yet!" The Rochast knight declared, holding up the sack of grain from the farmstead.


    "Baron Deets may have some questions for the count. And for the captain for that matter." Someone said.


    "Those self important-" he looked behind him in case one of the nobles had walked in on their looting, but it was just his peers there, "self-important brats knew what they signed up for. We''ve also lost comrades, we''re entitled to our revenge!"


    "We''re entitled to an early grave if things carry on like this. I thought with the lordlings and the adventurers would bring us victory, but we''re floundering. And now we''ve even lost one of them!"


    The chain of command was breaking down and everybody was throwing in whatever opinion came to their heads now.


    "We''ve been floundering because the city hasn''t been providing for us. Empty stomachs, no proper equipment. But that ends now." He held up his looted prize. "If you count the other farmsteads as well, we''ll have enough to keep pressuring the goblin army for weeks on end. If we strike and we keep striking, they won''t have any time to recover. That''s how you kill a goblin army."


    "Even if we have to ransack our own people like bandits?"


    "It''s hard on them now, but they''ll thank us once the goblin threat is eradicated."


    "Nah..." someone said darkly, "this is all Harkness. He doesn''t want to help the people, he''s here to erase the shame on his family name."


    Rochast grabbed his fellow knight by the scruff and pushed him to the ground, very much unlike a leader. "Shut up, lout. We''re here to eradicate evil, and for that we have to keep fighting. It''s evil. They''re evil!"


    "A-are you drunk?"


    Just the accusation sobered him up. "What? No."


    "Just remember that it''s the lordlings getting all the glory over the coming months. This isn''t our redemption for last year, we''re being shown how it''s done."


    Rochast looked over at the farmers family, crying and holding each other over having to go hungry this winter. It was because of the goblins that they had to give up their possessions today.


    "I''m fine with that..." he sighed, "I just want to get this over with."


    <hr>


    "We''ll get this over with soon enough." Scratch boasted not too long after. "This is the last battle."


    I am not at ease. Cyclophan rasped.


    "Well I am."


    He was standing atop a temporary wooden scaffold. It had been erected to repair the outer wall, but for now functioned only as temporary obstruction for the enemy and lookout post.


    The vantage point gave him a view of the forest. And the signs of an approaching force were already visible. He gave a hand signal to his family below.


    "They haven''t eaten in days. There''s no whetstones or tallow for their weapons. And there''s the mana thing."


    Mana takes a few days to replenish.


    "Yeah that. You know how many fodder goblins we can raise in that time?"


    You were not this confident before.


    "I was never worried about *whether* we could fend them off. Just *how quickly*. We have real problems threatening us... the lich. You know how he gave me a month ultimatum to get my affairs in order? That time is almost up."


    I must warn you that the Ravenous Lich is a dark sorcerer and an outlaw. He is not bound by his word.


    "Well, anyway..." Scratch grew silent as he watched the signs of activity under the foliage rapidly approach, he slowly raised his hand. "I feel a lot more confident in making the deadline now that we got the wonder twins down and the captain starved."


    And after that?


    "What? The fairies? I figure we just need numbers, so-"


    No. After that. What are your ambitions? Are you content under the Lich''s rule forever?


    "... They''re here!"


    Scratch brought down his hand and pointed at the horn blower.


    The little goblin had been waiting on the cue and immediately bellowed.


    Inside the forest, hidden agents sprung into action.


    -


    "They expected us to wait them out where we stand the strongest. But there''s no underestimating the element of surprise." Lydia said as Scratch came abseiling from the lookout.


    "You''re telling me. The last time I let myself get surprised I still had two eyes!"


    "But you have two eyes now."


    "Hehe." He flipped his eye-patch up and down. "So it''s always true."


    A clattering of steel and splintering wood erupted from the forest.


    The skirmishers had engaged with the lordlings. Trying to scatter their retinue and stagger their advance.


    But when the invaders came into view, they were in perfect formation.


    The goblin hoplites lifted their shield wall to receive them.


    "Something''s wrong..." Scratch whispered.


    The lordlings were in formation with their knights. Aligned and united in purpose.


    All the attack power of the enemy had been focused into one.


    Lydia suddenly arched her back. "Clear your head before the oncoming battle, elder. We must act faster than thought."


    She straightened herself with a surprised expression.


    "Still getting used to it, huh?" He asked.


    "I..."


    The armies clashed.


    Instead of dashing forward to claim their glory, the aspiring barons and baronesses held back and used their abilities to make openings for the knights.


    A rupture in the earth threw the left flank into disarray and warg wolves had to fill up the area of the fallen hoplites so the knights wouldn''t be able to encircle and flank them.


    "Piers, Constantine. Move back and defend our left. Will, take over on the flamethrower." Scratch commanded over his voice amplifier.


    Two of the hobgoblins separated from the rest, leaving the important task of suppressive fire on the magic users to their brother.


    One of the lordlings dashed forward and yelled some magic word. A hundred ghost-like cuts echoed his own as he cut into the goblin shield wall.


    But Bree was there to shield with her massive gauntlets.


    "I should be in there. Fighting alongside them." Lydia said.


    "We''re waiting for the- Excuse me." Scratch held the spellrod to his face again. "I need a target on those big glowing letters in the back. George?


    Thank you." A ballista shot interrupted the casting of a fire rain spell.


    A green arrow from an elven archer suddenly flew over the battle, targeting the goblin commander, but Lydia snatched it out of the air.


    Scratch was unfazed. "We''re waiting for our special problem to arrive."


    Lydia''s back arched again. "And for revenge from beyond, with renewed strength, renewed fury."


    After not too long their problem did make her way to them.


    "Nyaah! Got ya!" The cat-girl of the Dieless house managed to bound over a thinned part of the goblin shield wall and dashed right onto the wall.


    "What''d ya think? I brought my army this time."


    "We came prepared as well." Scratch said.


    Lydia drew her knives.


    Dieless straightened her back smugly. "You''re the Brood Knight. I don''t exp-"


    But the woman was already in her personal space, slashing at her.


    Dieless dodged and attempted to jump over her, but Lydia matched her speed and acrobatics, striking at her in the air.


    "Stop it!"


    The cat-girl grabbed the wrists of the woman to hold her back.


    But as soon as their feet hit the ground Lydia''s hands morphed into grotesque claws that tore into her forearms.


    She withdrew in surprise and was unprepared for the head of a wolf to bite into her shoulder the next moment.


    "Aaaah!"


    Feylina Dieless was completely disoriented to suddenly be fighting a wind wolf in Lydia Harkness'' clothes.


    Her air sickle attacks were dissipated by the enemy''s own wind manipulation, and when she tried to kick her she suddenly changed back into human form to round house kick her from a surprising direction.


    "Do you remember me?" Lydia asked. It was the spirit of the windwolf, possessing her via Lacrima''s lycanthropy.


    -


    Meanwhile, Scratch had descended from the wall.


    He would be less of a target on the ground, but his oversight on the battle was also reduced.


    "Something''s wrong... something''s real wrong..." he muttered, "Where''s the fatigue? Where''s the ramshackle equipment? It''s like they''re in top form."


    He hitched a ride on a warg wolf and began to ride back and forth behind the shield wall.


    But the battle was almost over anyway.


    The humans pulled back and eventually retreated into the woods.


    It was just in time for Lydia, as Dieless had gotten the upper hand and would have stuck around to kill her if she hadn''t gotten afraid of being stuck behind enemy lines with no army to run back into.


    But it wasn''t a victory.


    Dozens of goblins had died, and Will''s left leg had been almost completely severed by the lordling''s magical attack.


    The ground was littered with broken weapons and metal shards. It wasn''t the knights that would be fighting with diminished equipment but the goblins, at this rate.


    "But this was the last fight, right Papa?" Ada said, involving him in the middle of a conversation with her brothers.


    He dismounted to stand among them.


    Will was grimacing at his wound, but triumphant.


    Piers had lost a few fingers.


    Out in the distance Lydia was holding her head, trying to sort out human and wolf thoughts.


    He sighed. "Something sat wrong with me the whole battle. And now I know why. They never escalated their use of power, they don''t expect this to be their last fight. Did you get a look at those faces? That''s not what a deprived soldier looks like."


    "Hey..." Ada said nervously, "that''s not true. Come on Papa."


    "We''ll go back to the Promise, we''ll heal and stuff, and we''ll make an even greater secret weapon." Piers suggested. "Better than a werewolf. We''ll buy something from Lucky, we''ll..."


    Scratch shook his head. "They''ll regroup and come back within a day. That''s the tactic for keeping goblin armies down."


    Will grasped at his open wound. "But then we''ll..."


    "What''s the plan?" Ada asked.


    Scratch furrowed his brow. He didn''t have one.


    Just then a Raven landed on top of his head.


    It was the Lich''s familiar.


    <hr>


    Escape


    Class: Rogue/Mage


    Level: E


    Adventurers that have mastered this spell are able to escape dungeons whenever they please. The escape spell will transport the caster to the entrance of the dungeon they are in, but has no effect outside of it. Further mastery of the spell allows one to take others along. Although the effect of this spell is weaker than that of warp, the mana cost is also significantly reduced.

 Dividends

    "You''re not going through with it... are you?"


    It wasn''t his family or confidantes coming after him. It was Barbara.


    Scratch was tying a note to the familiar''s claw.


    It stood patiently on one leg, lifting the other towards him.


    There was a clear intelligence to the bird.


    "I wouldn''t play a prank at a time like this," Scratch told her.


    "But an undead horde?"


    "If I remember correctly..." he was done tying the message, "the one most in favor of escalating was..."


    She cradled herself and looked away. "Maybe I changed my mind."


    The raven flew off and Scratch turned around to face her. "There''s three possibilities here."


    "Huh? What?"


    "Number one. You just went up twenty IQ points inexplicably and suddenly understand diplomacy."


    "It''s not about that."


    "Number two! You''ve been bought by big feudal and now you''re turning against us."


    "Will you listen to me-?"


    "Numberrr thrree! You have a better plan! To assure us of victory even stronger."


    "No! I don''t!"


    He had been jovial but she yelled desperately.


    "I don''t have any answers. Just. Not this!"


    He paused to take her in for a moment. "You realize that we don''t have another fight in us like we had today?"


    "Yes."


    "And if they keep hammering us like this, we''ll go extinct?"


    "...Yes."


    "But you''d rather die than see me send out that note I just did."


    She looked down.


    "That doesn''t sound like the Barbara I know. The Barbara I know will do whatever it takes to get an advantage... even monsters."


    "I have my limits too, Papa! The Ravenous Lich is a devil that intends to devour the world."


    "You know you could have just killed me," He suggested, "to stop the note I mean. You would have died quicker that way than if the world''s devoured."


    Her jaw unclenched. The thought simply hadn''t entered her mind.


    "I''m disappointed in you, Barbara." Scratch walked past her. "When you were first brought to us I thought I had recognized a kindred spirit, but it sounds like you still have scruples. Just loose ones."


    "I know you''re a monster," she walked after him, "and you don''t care about killing humans. But these are *skeletons*. They kill everything. Are you really willing to torch the land to rule the ash?"


    "If only it were so easy!" He laughed. "Torch the place to rule it! No, no, somebody would have gotten there before us. If we nuke this place all that does is escalate things with the captain. And if not with the captain than with *his* boss. We''d just stay dependent on them forever."


    "Then why?"


    He turned his face upwards to look at her as she almost stumbled over him. "Have you noticed anyone else trying to stop me?"


    "No?"


    "That''s because they''re preparing."


    <hr>


    There hung a tension in the air.


    A rancid still atmosphere had bubbled up from the trampled mud.


    It didn''t enter the mind of Henry and Diane to rear their heads at it. It seemed perfectly natural that they''d be short of breath, as both were screaming.


    "Are you a man!?"


    "Don''t yell at me Diane!"


    "Are you a man!? How could a man let this happen?"


    "They''re the king''s men! This is the king''s land!"


    "Oh gods, protect us." She turned away from him, "we''re going to starve."


    Their farm had been ransacked by knights, in order to serve the ongoing war effort.


    "Darling-"


    "Don''t call me darling!" She slapped his arms away.


    "Diane, they wouldn''t let us starve. Why, the crops are nearly mature. We can take some of the harvest we would have sold. It might not be as appetizing, but..."


    "Then we will starve in the winter! Damn you Henry, I''m an old woman! I can not make a living hiking through the wilds as an adventurer! You have invited the specter of death upon us!"


    As she said it, the specter of death appeared in their sights.


    A skull stripped of the soft tissue was staring at them from a few paces away.


    A rail thin skeleton shambling over the muddy road towards the farmer and his wife.


    It was blackened by dirt. A monster of death from the loosened earth.


    A breathless gasp escaped its jaws at it stretched out its boney digits and lunged for them.


    "Ah! Henry!"


    The women fell to the ground, as much from panic as from the undead monster grabbing her.


    The skeleton was on top of her now, trying to strangle her.


    Henry wasn''t nearly unfeeling towards his wife''s pleading, but his kicking did little to slow down the undead.


    Though he broke a rib and induced some torturous shifting in the shoulder blade, the creature was simply impervious to pain.


    He ran inside and came back with a scythe.


    This particular design could be converted into a glaive by unlocking and turning the blade. But he did not have time to do that.


    A well aimed swing with the harvesting tool shattered the monster''s spine.


    Its body split in two places, and the woman threw the top piece off.


    He helped her up.


    "Darling!" She embraced him. "What was that?"


    "An undead creature Diane. It must be dark sorcery."


    "But where did it come from?"


    "I-"


    "Watch out!"


    There was another skeleton that had shambled into their farmstead. This one had picked up a large branch and heaved it over its head to cave Henry''s skull in.


    They separated to evade the crude attack, and Diane walked backwards into the skeletal upper body, which was still active and grasping at her feet.


    As she started kicking Henry swung at the new attacker, but only managed to clash weapons, losing grip on his own.


    He turned around, grabbed her wife''s hand, and dragged her away.


    She looked up. "What are you doing? Won''t you-" She stopped complained when she saw behind her.


    It wasn''t one skeleton he was running away from, but dozens.


    The road leading up to their humble farmstead was filled with an undead horde.


    As they overran the building they ripped out planks and tore open animal burrows, all in the single-minded pursuit of death.


    "Henry... they''re coming from the direction of the fortress..."


    Some of the lighter equipped skeletons began to sprint after them in a flailing clownish manner.


    "Run, Diane, into the field!"


    -


    They couldn''t have picked a worse place to hide.


    The tall stalks of corn swallowed them, until neither could see anything but the greenish brown of the crop.


    They were quickly separated.


    The undead were unburdened by any dependency on sight. They trampled the plant life in an unbroken line straight towards their target. Drawn with unthinking inevitability towards the life in their beating hearts.


    Diane spun around disoriented in the tall grass when a hand sudden clasped her shoulder.


    "Diane!"


    It was Henry.


    "Don''t go losing me again."


    There was a loud rustle of skeletons approaching and they ran the other way.


    Suddenly their attackers turned around and left.


    There was the sound of dogs barking and steel clattering.


    And they heard the voices of young men.


    -


    "Yeah! Drag them out! Clean it up. It''s like cleaning guys!"


    "There''s still someone in there!"


    "Maybe burn it, get all of ''em."


    The more they spoke the clearer it became these were young soldiers or adventurers.


    And now they were discussing burning down the field just to get rid of the skeletons.


    "Stop!" Henry suddenly yelled. "Stop! No, we''re in here!"


    Diane grasped his chest.


    "It''s the king''s men, Diane. I knew they''d come through for us." He began waving his arm above the stalks and pulled her along back. "Hello! Hi! I am the appointed farmer! Can y-"


    Exiting the field didn''t find a garrison of shiny royal knights waiting for them, but an eclectic variety of humanoid goblin creatures.


    The subhumans formed a half-circle around where them.


    Two of them were relatively tall, though not fully man-sized, and were dressed not wholly dissimilar to young men from a farm going adventuring for the first time. They had reasonably padded peasant tunics and simple weapons. But bright orange faces with little horns on their foreheads.


    Several were smaller, green, and dressed in furs and bones.


    And yet others were small but sealed tightly into rusty steel armor.


    Three warg wolves were pacing menacingly behind them.


    "Henry!" Diane yelled out in shock.


    "So we kill them, right?" One of the goblins asked.


    "No, we don''t kill anyone unless they''re being aggressive." The taller hobgoblin said.


    All around them were the bones of the undead.


    They had shattered, crushed, and bound the lot, and there were yet others in their army chasing down the rest of the horde in and around the farm.


    "What do you want from us!?" Henry shielded his wife with his body, "get away from us!"


    "Yeah, now we kill them." The little goblin said, drawing his weapon.


    "Nobody is being aggressive. Go help the others." The hobgoblin send him away and then extended his open hand to the couple. "My name is Felix, this is my brother Jasper. We''re here to help."


    Jasper gave a small nervous wave. Unlike Felix his weapons were attached to his wrists, they were menacing claws that would get in the way of a handshake.


    Henry put out his own hand, a bit unsure, and Felix firmly grasped it. Then he shook it up and down in a powerful robotic motion. It was the first time he had performed the gesture with a stranger.


    "What do you mean?" Diane asked accusingly from behind her husband,  "who have you come here to help?"


    "Well... uh... you. I mean not you specifically, but..." The hobgoblin stammered over his words a bit.


    His brother suddenly stepped forwards, making the two flinch. But he looked right past them and into the field.


    "So... we saw there''s a lot of monsters coming this way. And we knew there were people living here. So... yeah." Felix shrugged.


    A skeleton burst out of the greenery, but Jasper was there anticipating it. "Heal!" He placed his open palm on the skull''s face.


    The head turn slightly pink for a bit and then sunk down. Whatever force animating it dissipated and it crumbled.


    "My heal is a weapon!" He beamed.


    "Do you have any food?" Felix asked the couple.


    Henry''s jaw clenched. "We don''t have anything to repay you. The army of the proving has taken it all, that''s the honest truth. Whatever you take from this farm, leave my wife and me-"


    "You want any?"


    "Huh?"


    Felix pointed at the cart at the end of the road. "Papa Scratch said they might''ve raided you, so we brought food. Not enough to last all winter, but still..."


    "Goodness, you boys are blessed! Heroes!" Diane sung.


    "Diane, these are the enemies of our lord."


    "Oh forget that, what has your lord done for us. Huh? Nothing but taken from us. These subhu- excuse me boys- these fine gentlemen have done what a true noble would have done."


    "How did you know they would come here?" Henry asked them.


    "We looked for places people might live. They''re coming all over." Jasper said, "spreading out from there somewhere." He pointed in the direction of the new fortress.


    "I knew it Henry, death comes from the west, salvation from the east. Goodness! You boys must help the farmstead three leagues south of here!


    That''s where Moira and her husband live, she''s got three kids."


    "There''s one to the south?" Felix kneeled next to one of the warg wolves and whispered in its ear. It barked in confirmation and ran off with its two mates. "We better get going if we want to catch up. Can you tell the kids to come after us after they finish unloading?"


    Diane looked down at the wild green things. They did look remarkably like human children. They carried themselves that way as well.


    As they left Jasper reached out for her upper arm. He had that claw weapon, but she didn''t pull back, and he was able to heal her bruise from the struggle.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    "Why are you doing this?" Henry asked.


    "Good neighbours." The hobgoblin smiled. "We''re just being good neighbours."


    "Right, I forgot to say the line. We''re just being good neighbours!" Felix yelled out over his shoulder.


    <hr>


    "Ah! Be nice." Will expelled some air through his teeth as the elf girl refreshed the bandages.


    "Gentle healers make for stinking wounds," she whispered, as she tied it fast onto his leg wound.


    Their bodies were close together like that and for a brief moment her nose almost touched his. Then she pulled away in a huff.


    "Thou must be disappointed not be upon the warpath with thine comrades." She said, turning away to wash her hands.


    "Oh... kind of. It''s not really war, you know. The humans aren''t attacking us because there''s a lot of skeletons everywhere, both sides are just kinda stuck cleaning them up. So there''s no war."


    She paused. "I do not understand. The skeletal horde, it was summoned by your kind, was it not? Is the magic of necromancy so crude that they can not be made to march upon thine enemies?"


    "Uh... Not really. They''re summoned by a friend of Papa. And Papa says if we control them that would escalate the conflict. You see," he leaned in with a knowing expression, "escalating is bad when the enemy is stronger than you. If they''re strong you want to de-escalate into peace."


    She gave a sad smile, "the races of good desire peace regardless."


    "Oh yeah?" He looked a bit skeptical, as far as he knew elves and humans would rather be killed by goblins that live peacefully with them.


    Liorin put her hands on her hips. "But thou cannot believe that showering the land in death shall bring peace."


    "A common enemy."


    "Pardon?"


    "A common enemy," Will repeated. "That''s what the skeletons are. Scratch asked his friend to make his monsters in the middle of the rolling hills, between the fortress and the forest. That way it doesn''t look like we created them, and if we''re fighting them, it doesn''t look like we''re using them either."


    "A deception! A false enemy."


    He nodded enthusiastically. "Isn''t it clever! And the creature says that the knights must be friends with the farm people for their boss, so if we protect the farm people they''re not allowed to attack us anymore."


    "I should have known!" Far from impressed Liorin was horrified, "I allowed myself to forget, but I should have known. That you''d stoop so low, endangering common people in order to proclaim yourself their saviors..."


    "But..." he pouted, "if it''s for peace..."


    The expression left her face. She did not have much room to argue after what she''d just said. "Well... if it is for peace."


    -


    After a minor cleaning detail Will''s treatment was complete.


    He rubbed his leg. The cut was too deep for healing magic to reach all the way inside, but the bandaging helped secure natural healing. It felt safe having the bandage on, there was a security that his limb would return to normal.


    "What about you?" He asked absentmindedly, "are you sad you aren''t with your friends."


    On hearing that Liorin curled up in an indignant little ball. "No. They have come to despise me."


    "What? No."


    "Yes. They consider me tainted because I indulge thee. Even though it is all for their benefit."


    Searching for a way to understand that rejection, Will imagined his own siblings turning away from him. There had been some minor spats growing up, but he wasn''t able to properly imagine what she was experiencing. "...But are the trolls nice? Are you friends with the trolls?"


    "Of course I am not!!" She yelled at him.


    He threw up his hands in surrender.


    An awkward silence followed. Liorin slightly uncurling to fidget with her toes, and Will just looking.


    He then hesitantly scooted over to her and put his arms around her.


    She didn''t stop him.


    "It''s really Farith." She said, "she is our most senior. Our pride is so important to her... She has always demanded I keep my distance and when I wouldn''t-" she looked up to force her tears back, "it''s all to protect the others- when I wouldn''t she has told them to shun me."


    "Do you hate Farith?" Will asked.


    "Well it''s not fair! It''s because of me that one has a true house to live in now! One uses it as well! Nobody is more in the tree garden than Farith, but she''s never thanked me for it. And... it is not so that I am actually bedding you."


    "No we haven''t had sex yet."


    "Yet?"


    "Uhm..."


    She pulled his arms off of her and stood up. "I have ministrated here for an exchange with the brood knight. After this we may have an outing in the sunlight, which is of such importance to Pecorath. Though it is shameful, I will not be made to feel shame. I have done good," she looked at him with wet eyes, "I have done good have I not?"


    Will was silent for a moment.


    "You know..." he said, "when there''s goblins picking on each other, we split them up in different groups. ''Cause it''s always one boss egging on the others, and without a boss they aren''t as mean anymore."


    "Ugh, this is not like your childish bullying."


    "No. But let''s split you up during the outing, huh! If you''re alone with your friends without Farith there, don''t you think they''ll be more friendly?"


    She softened. "Can you do that?"


    He quickly closed his legs to hide the mood she had put him in. "Yes! I''ll ask mama. She''ll definitely be for it."


    <hr>


    "HARKNESS!!"


    It wasn''t usual for higher nobles to achieve martial prowess on standing with their rank in their lifetime, especially counts of more peaceful counties such as the Rhysian. But count Rhysian wielded some imposing magic for the sake of intimidation. Instead of landing his wyvern and dismounting, he jumped off and impacted the ground like a fiery meteor.


    "What is the meaning of this?"


    The knight captain remained unfazed. "A horde of the undead, mi-lord. We''re blocking their advance towards Eston."


    They were in the middle of a skeleton attack, but it could hardly be called a battle. The horde was a thin and constant trickle of monsters that did not bunch up and did not make formations. Rather than a clash of shield walls the fight was busywork for the knights, occupying each with a newly approaching attacker every few minutes. They were spread out over the region to prevent any from passing.


    "Do you realize you''ve left the defense of my subjects to their mortal enemy?" The count shattered a skeleton with his mace so it would not intrude on the conversation.


    "The candidates have been sent to protect the farmsteads. Staff from the adventurers'' guild have been sent to find the source of this necromancy.


    The goblins must have done s-"


    "The goblins are protecting my flock better than you are Harkness! If you''ve send the candidates there to kill them I''ll see to it that you''re exiled!"


    "Mi-lord! The extermination of the warrens is what we were tasked-"


    "Your task was to protect the people! Any aspirant prioritizing their quarry above protecting lives is disqualified from the proving, make sure of it."


    The captain nodded. He turned his back to the enemy and shouted at a squire, "take a letter. Now! We''re sending a bird."


    The count sighed, "how many candidates have died?" Softer this time.


    "Only two, sire."


    "Only two. It''s no use getting mad at you, it was my own incompetence for putting you in charge. I will be flying there myself, make sure the letter arrives before me."


    After he had mounted the wyvern again and left, Harkness threw his weapon down in frustration. He then punched an approaching skeleton with his bare fist. "*Damn* this. Damn it all!"


    <hr>


    The lordlings were in no position to hear any message from any messenger.


    The roads over which the post boy could ride to relay the written announcement was overrun by skeletons.


    And they were spread out, immersed into various skirmishes with both undead and subhuman.


    When the count arrived at the edge of the forest a peasant family was standing between a bleeding goblin and Rubelina Corintha, who had her longsword drawn.


    "Corintha. You are brandishing a weapon at my subjects."


    When she saw him she quickly curtsied. "Your lordship. These lowborn have harbored a monster, I-"


    "You might find yourself stripped of your noble name as well Rubelina, if you do not drop the weapon this instant."


    The longsword fell to the ground. "Count Rhysian!"


    "It is no small matter to take up arms against the realm''s people, woman."


    He then turned to the farming family, who prostrated themselves before him.


    "You would protect this creature?"


    "Mi-lord," the father said, "this boy and his brothers have saved us from the undead. And to great threat to themselves as well, look, he is hurt! If we harbor him, it is only-"


    "Nug is our friend!" The little daughter yelled out, "we promised his big brother we''d help him get better."


    "Where there''s one goblin, there will soon be a nest." Rubelina recited, "sire-"


    "Silence!" He walked up to the goblin.


    Nug was cowering with his eyes closed.


    "When you return to your father, tell him that I want to meet him. Do you understand? Count Rhysian wants his audience."


    "Papa Scratch?"


    "That''s right. Corintha!" He turned around to face her, "lead me to the others, I must give them my words."


    -


    Not all lordlings had stumbled upon farmsteads already saved.


    Most had come across households where hobgoblins had already made themselves at home, and had to contend with a tenser situation.


    Derrek Emberton had been boxed in by undead with a female hobgoblin named Ada, and the two had fought together.


    Feylina Dieless had eradicated a cluster of hundreds by herself.


    But nobody had turned their weapons against the peasantry, and once the safety of the region was ascertained the hobgoblins were allowed safe passage back to their forest, so the count could collect the proving candidates.


    "The proving has ended. I wanted to tell you that you have fought valiantly, and that you have made your families proud..." his eyes pierced them one by one, "that''s what I wanted to tell you. But as I see it the people of Eston have come to prefer the goblin menace over you."


    "Hey, that''s not...!"


    "Yeah the army was supposed to handle logistics, they-"


    "Silence! A group of adults, of your breeding no less, should know when to hold their tongues." He used fire magic to emphasize his words.


    "Captain Harkness will be punished for his failures. But you... who among you has shown the qualities of a baron? Hhm? Who has won the hearts of the people?"


    "It must be a trick." Rubelina said, "the goblins must have orchestrated it. To stop our army, to turn the people against us, to-"


    "Do you know what I saw flying over here, Corintha?" The count asked, "do you know what the source of this undeath is?"


    "Some sort of necromancer?"


    "It is a bone spire. The guild staff will not be enough to suppress it, I have summoned my vassals. Including your mother."


    "A... a bone-?"


    "If the goblins had access to magic of that caliber, they would have send the horde directly to your doorstep. The fortress and the city would be overrun by the skeletal horde and after that... the rest of my county."


    "Maybe they just didn''t know how to use it... maybe-"


    "How could they create a bone spire and not want to use it?" Emberton fell out, "whoever did this *wanted* to spread chaos. Some dark sorcerer... you know Eston has been without a witch protector for a while..."


    "No more speculation," the count snapped, "these things will be investigated by the knighthood in due time. You, I''m sending to your families. Word on who has earned the title will follow."


    He looked around.


    "Where''s Dieless?"


    <hr>


    Feylina Dieless, legitimized heir to the Dieless house, had left her post.


    She was not anywhere near where she was commanded to be.


    Instead she was bounding through the air, propelling herself with bursts of wind magic, chasing an elusive prey through the treetops and underbrush of the goblin warrens.


    Deep into the woods she caught up with her, and after a firm kick send her careening into a crooked tree.


    She waited patiently for the enemy to scramble back to her feet. "That''s quite far enough."


    Before her stood the brood knight.


    The bandit woman''s hair was darker than it had been before, a hint of warg wolf shining through in her human form. "Rushing ahead of the army again, aren''t you?"


    "Taking the fight away from yours..." Feylina spoke cautiously as the two began to slowly circle each other.


    "I don''t know what pull you have outside the warrens- you must have some people somewhere- but they''re pulling us out. So today is my last chance to do this."


    "Do what? Kill me?"


    "Yes!"


    With gleeful abandon, the cat girl pounced.


    Lydia''s legs briefly transformed and she dashed out of the way of the attack. "It was an error of strategy to isolate ourselves," she said to herself, as she prepared to redirect the next few air sickles, "it is the strength of the pack that secures the success of the hunt."


    "Oh yeah?" Dieless halted her succeeding blows to maneuver around her opponent and drive her towards an open glade, where the trees would not obstruct her.


    "No. We are not hunting." The brood knight then declared. "In this situation. We are the prey. I had to lead her away from the others."


    "Who are you talking to, are you talking to me? Stop it."


    Dieless was distracted enough not to see the throwing knives coming and she had to block one with her bare hand, drawing blood. "Ah! Bitch!"


    She rushed at her and forced her deeper into the glade, where she had the advantage.


    The ground was uneven, and locked into a clash of weapons they stumbled into a brook ran dry. They tumbled up and over each other downhill for what felt like minutes, until Feylina Dieless ended up on top.


    They were both caked in dirt, but through Feylina''s coat of gray cracked a broad and shiny white bloodthirsty smile.


    Above her was a black night''s sky, no stars or moon could be seen, and that grin became the only light in Lydia''s vision.


    But it wasn''t night.


    It was hardly noon.


    And when the lordling heaved up her claw for the coup the grace it disappeared into that blackness behind her.


    "Ah! No!" She yelled out in pain and alarm.


    And when next her hand came out of the black smoke it was a talon of blackness that went straight for her own throat.


    She fell over backwards and began to flounder, it looked just as if she was strangling herself, how the black smoke was forcing her hand around her neck.


    For a brief second it seemed as if she would escape, when she dug her nails into her own palm to force the hand away, but the rest of the black smoke rushed down and onto her body.


    "Wait, no! NO!"


    Soon she was invisible.


    "The Ravenous Lich..." Lydia whispered.


    "The pleasure is mine entirely," the blackness said, "though I do wish you would call me Ritter, as that is my name."


    The smoke collected itself and rose up into a tall pillar, carrying Dieless'' lifeless body with it, a cow skull and other skeletal features emerged from the darkness within, caging the body.


    "You can count yourself lucky we stumbled on that fight when we did," Scratch said, standing next to the lich. He was dressed in his most expensive bespoke suit, with a cockatrice feather in his hat. "Although... I suppose luck had nothing to do with it." He looked at the raven familiar circling the sky above them.


    -


    After that abrupt end to the fight, they sat down to discuss things.


    "Did she really go after you just to get the kill? Actually I believe it immediately." Scratch touched where Dieless had harmed him before. The woman had been a psychopath with superpowers, but the lich that had ended her so easily was even scarier."


    "Dieless'' body has become a vessel for elemental death," the animal skull rang, "it is a marvelously powerful body. I could convert it to a death knight for your dungeon."


    "N-no thanks..." Scratch said, "better we return the body to her family. A gesture of good will."


    "You still believe you can make peace with them."


    Scratch tapped the side of his nose. "They only need to believe there is no cost to keeping us alive, and no benefit to having us destroyed. Simple economics will do the rest."


    "This is a rivalry that goes back eons, it will remain to be seen if you can buy it off."


    "Oh I don''t agree with that, I think a memory can only go back a single lifetime, what do you think, honey?"


    Lydia was shaken from her inner deliberations by the question. "The world of man dizzies me with its intrigue and complexity, the beasts of the earth shed blood only for survival and security, but the people of the towers shed blood for their fanciful thoughts and aspirations. What good can come off it?"


    "Lyds?"


    "Ugh." She clutched her head. "No... no that wasn''t me."


    "You have made a great sacrifice to fight without my power," Ritter said, "the curse of the werewolf is pernicious and ancient. Two souls fighting over one body... it can be a heavy burden."


    "Lydia, I have been asked by the boss man to come broker the peace. Can you stay with Ritter and take the body to the Promise?"


    "But... I should be there."


    "Lydia, look at yourself. No."


    She looked at her hand, it hadn''t stopped twitching since they had started talking. Two minds were pulling it in different directions.


    When they had first met he was a small savage creature, and she a civilized leader with a noble upbringing.


    Now Scratch stood upright and well groomed, and she was disheveled and unkempt. The power of the wolf had given her combat ability, but it had stripped so much of her decorum, she could hardly control her own body.


    He took her hand and rubbed it comfortingly. "Go home, Lyds. Wash up, get some rest. Let me do the talking, okay?"


    She sniffed and nodded, feeling slightly humiliated.


    "So you will avoid annihilation, Papa Scratch. That is all very well, but I must remind you that I have tasked you with the elimination of another enemy."


    "Yeah, yeah. Defeat the fairy queen, I know."


    "..."


    He slapped his face. "No, it was finding the Liege. Sorry, I had my favors mixed up."


    "This is no matter of small importance. A secret war has been fought over the wyrm shards since the shattering of the dark beast in ancient times. The second segment of monumental value to the true rulers of this world."


    "Look, I have a plan," Scratch lied. "Getting the popo to lay off my back is just the set-up okay. I need some wiggle room in the legal sphere, that''s all. And you really need to tell me what the second segment is."


    There was a slight movement in the bull head, "broker this peace, and I will."


    <hr>


    When captain Harkness had negotiated with the goblins it had been in a little war tent.


    When guildmaster Linel had done so it had been out in the open sky.


    Count Rhysian had invited them to dinner at one of the rural estates.


    The peasants had had to prepare the feast themselves and had produced a freshly killed lamb, some foraged vegetables, and some of the flat bread the goblins had distributed.


    The combined result was not at all dissimilar to what would be on the menu at the Promise.


    Which disappointed Scratch, who had hoped that with an invitation by nobility would come luxury worthy of nobility.


    The count looked at him over his nose. "Where is the... Brood Knight?"


    "What a gross name. We don''t call her that. Lydia is recuperating at home..." Scratch glanced at the captain.


    Lydia''s father had been offered a seat at the table, he stood behind the count as bodyguard.


    "...on my orders."


    "So you''re in charge. What is it you want of me?" Count Rhysian asked over the table.


    "Isn''t that my line?" Scratch said with a bemused tone. "You invited me."


    "You''ve been fighting our people for nearly on to two years now, creature. But today you''ve saved them. What is your goal?"


    "Ho there, mister. Nobody has fought any of the families here while I was in charge, it''s them lot coming over the hills that''s been attacking us."


    He pointed at captain Harkness with his fork.


    The captain''s face reddened. "You will address the count as-"


    "Harkness." The count nearly spat at him.


    "...Forgive me mi-lord. I spoke before my turn."


    "Got him on a tight leash, I like that." Scratch smirked, infuriating the knight captain.


    "You say that you can live in peace with the peasantry?"


    "We have. For as long as I am in control of the Promise."


    The count leaned in. "I catch your drift. You say it is in my interest to support your power over your people, is that it?"


    Scratch mimicked Feylina Dieless'' quasi-innocent look. "I don''t know what your interests are... Count. My power at the Promise derives from my vision. Without me to guide them, the goblins would return to their baser survival strategies, as they did this spring."


    The count mulled it over for a bit. "You asked my what I want of you, well here it is. I have invited you to ask you maintain the peace."


    Scratch nodded. "I''m afraid I can''t promise that."


    "What!?" The captain leaned in angrily, and the count didn''t stop him.


    "I wish it were that easy..." Scratch sighed and leaned back dramatically, "if I could create peace simply by commanding it, I would. But there are elements within your domain that are set to destroy us."


    "You are referring to the adventurers guild." The count said.


    "I''m sure you''ve heard the church has given me an awful nickname."


    "I do not have the power to decide the guild''s quarry."


    Scratch''s eyebrows shot up. "You must have some pull. I mean you''re in charge of everything."


    "My place is merely in service of the duke of Dichtershire, who answers to the king himself... but I could extend the adventuring stay..." The count said gravely.


    Scratch clasped his hands together. "Here is my proposal. I pay tithe to you. You were looking for a new baron? Pick me. That is my defacto position anyway. Then any attack on myself is treason against yourself and the king, and you can forbid it! Aren''t I clever?"


    The count did not raise an eyebrow against the proposition. He had seen it coming. "I had expected Lydia Harkness to demand such a thing, and even she is of inferior breeding. You are... an enemy of the gods as declared by the church."


    Scratch showed his open palms. "We are all sinners. Benesant has damned me, but she has also resurrected me. I live now to atone for my past barbarity."


    "..."


    -


    After the dinner Scratch took his distance to observe the men arguing.


    He was smoking blue grass.


    Your lies were quite intense. I could hardly hear anything else on this plane.


    Did the fancy pants tell any?


    Nothing material. What do you figure?


    It is in their best interest now to pretend to accept my reqjest, but then use the institution to weaken us and then revoke it. I just want to have the official protection for now, we can cross that bridge when we get to it.


    I don''t think it''s occurred to him.


    If it hasn''t it will. I''ve learned that this place doesn''t actually have real feudalism. Men don''t control a territory and swear fealty to a more powerful lord, they are given territory by their lord. It''s an appointed post... middle management. I''m basically handing everything over to him, he would be crazy not to stab me in the back at some point.


    ...The Ravenous Lich has taken a tour of my dungeon. He has come right up to my core, which I didn''t appreciate.


    "Mhm."


    As Cyclophan complained the argument between the count and the captain heated up, and the count punched him in the stomach. He then walked over the Scratch, who quickly tossed the cigarette over his shoulder.


    "There will be no more attacks on your people. I can not make promises in the name of his majesty, but I will do my utmost best." With a sudden jerky movement he bowed deeply. "Thank you for protecting my people."


    "Uh, yeah. You too." Scratch tried bowing back. I await your next move. He thought.


    <hr>


    Bone Spire


    Family: Construct


    Threat Level: A


    Reward: 50,000 gold pieces


    Bone spires are creations of pure necromancy. They resemble man-made buildings constructed out of bone and fossilized sinews, but their true makeup is magical.


    Their function lies in the propagation of necromantic energies, which spread through the air and water, poisoning all life and raising undead from the soil. Far from blunt weapons, they are imbued with evil purpose by their creator, and these undead will march upon any target the master of the spire commands.


    When an adventurer challenges a bone spire, it will turn its hordes upon them. Therefore, any adventurer that sets out against a bone spire must contend with a horde of thousands. Although skeletons themselves are ranked threat level F, the undead horde has the ability to overwhelm adventurers with sheer numbers, such that they are fighting a sea of bone, rather than a collection of individual monsters.


    When the protective layer of undead is breached, the spire itself is not defenseless either, as it is able to sap the life of its attackers and summon boney protrusions from the ground. And as bone spires are constructed by dark sorcerers, they may be protected by other profane creations, such as curses and death knights. The spire can only be destroyed by removing the warped skull at its top.


    -


    Bone Spires can be found in the Haunted Canyon zone in the Yellow Wastes. They defend the long dead kingdoms of dark sorcerers, and must be removed to create habitable places.

 Parasites

    "Full Heal!" Margaret''s spell erupted from her chest and struck a skeleton square in its ribcage.


    For half a moment it seemed like it had done nothing, when suddenly nerves and tendons erupted from the bone.


    The monster slowed down as masses of organic tissue began to entomb and weigh it down.


    Muscles, teeth, eyes, all the features of a man began to form around it.


    Lastly, skin.


    Sinking to its knees was an unspoilt human corpse. Now rendered completely inert.


    "It''s a good thing healing harms the undead," her rival said, "since I would never dull my blade on these inferior foes. The paladin can take care of them."


    "Are you too good for an honest day''s work?"


    "...yes."


    Margaret sighed.


    There were five members in their group. Previously they had all stuck together to be around Laurus, now that he was indisposed it became increasingly clear they had no glue sticking them together.


    The paladin thought the duelist was conceited, the duelist looked down on the paladin, the mage considered them both children, and the martial artist never spoke.


    "Laurus..." She sighed again, *he would know what to say*.


    "Don''t act like you''re the only one that cares about him," the woman flapped her kimono, "we all want to save him. But it''s up to Augusta now."


    Augusta... the name sounded like metal on chalk to her. Another woman circling him.


    It wasn''t proper for her to despise the knight, as she was the one who would help Laurus escape these murder charges.


    But still... it wasn''t often now that she wasn''t gripped be jealousy.


    "Really... none of you are questioning this?" The mage''s powerful voice rang from behind her scarf.


    "What''re you on about?" The duelist said.


    "We have come here, with Laurus, in order to defeat the goblin warrens and avenge the elves. But rather than goblins, we''re fighting skeletons, and even though the proving''s done with the adventuring stay''s still going."


    "There was a bone spire and the lands are still overrun, so what?"


    "So, we''re being led on, love. Shit''s bloody political, innit?"


    The martial artist punched her fists together. "Shit''s fucky."


    "What''s say we go back to the city, an'' try for another round with Beauregard. I''m sure she''s got more to tell us."


    As she spoke she pulled a large stick insect out of her sleeves.


    "Ew," Margaret recoiled, "what''s that!?"


    "It''s my familiar. The only reason I came along today was to find out more about our enemies. But since we''re banned from entering..." the bug took off and began buzzing towards the forest.


    "This one will have to be our eyes and ears."


    "You can see what your familiar sees?"


    "It can record its sight for us to watch later."


    "That''s freaky."


    "That''s magic. Now... off with us."


    Margaret watched the magical creature fly off. These other companions sure were impressive, *but they haven''t shared a moment with him like I have.*


    <hr>


    Flying high over the forest, the familiar was able to record rows upon rows of ruins.


    Abandoned goblin nests overrun by spreading kudzu.


    Already, more powerful fairy creatures were conglomerating in the north, having come from the witchwood.


    But the plant matter hadn''t yet reached beyond the outermost perimeter, which protected the favored territories.


    The bug''s eyes calibrated and refocused when the sea of leaves suddenly tore out from under it and the warrens came into view.


    Though there were rows and patches of trees, this was no longer a forest. Huts, cabins, and brick houses made up a sprawl of civilization.


    There were quarries, animal pens, and stretches of farmland to make up the industry of a self-sufficient nation.


    And towering against the cliffs of the sea was its capital.


    The Promise was protected by a wooden and stone wall. Outside was a purple field of potato flowers, and a small grove with a tree tier up in countless ribbons.


    The stick insect hovered low, and then landed on the back of a horse being led through the gate, into the town.


    From its street level view, it was able to take in the center of commerce by the gate, where a bandit woman distributed goods from her shop. And the rows of warehouses storing private and public property.


    It was brushed off by the horse''s tail and began to fly low, towards the manor and the water tower.


    There were beginnings of branching streets from the main road, but most of the homes the bandits lived and slept in were alongside that path towards the center.


    There was a little square between the wings of the manor, that had once contained a well, but now only a metal manhole cover, and some mossy tiles.


    -


    "Say that again..." Lydia Harkness turned her ear to the warg wolf and listened intently.


    The wolf seemed a tad embarrassed, but it relented and barked a line of warg wolves.


    She was silent for a moment, then transformed the structure of her throat and barked back. "I understand! It''s speaking... it''s just like words."


    Scratch had stopped beating a rug to watch her, "yeah... they have their own language. That''s why we have the barking horn."


    She looked looked at him with a sideways smile. "Grienicians have their own language. They say ''mira'', or ''merde''. And peasants and nobility have different language. The nobility uses more elegant speech patterns. This is beyond language. The words are in a completely different order.


    The sounds are completely different."


    "Oh- Hmm... There''s nothing like this anywhere on the world? Everybody can pretty much understand each other?"


    "Of course. That''s what language does. We were gifted speech by the gods. We use it to understand each other."


    Scratch swatted at the stick insect buzzing around his head. "That''s amazing. You know, orcs have a whole language of their own too."


    "Truly!?"


    "I reckon there''s tons of languages out there in the world."


    Lydia partially transformed to rush over to him and tackle him to the ground.


    She buried her face in his neck.


    "The world is so much larger than I believed. I... I have traveled under many skies, tread upon countless territories, and known the presence of all manner of beasts. But I know now that I have been blind to the world around me... I have seen not one whisker of its complexities." She withdrew,


    "no... that was..."


    "Shush, shh..." he put his hands around her face. "Let it happen, give Wendy her space, don''t let it become a back-and-forth like with the witch girl. Flow into each other."


    She nodded obediently, kissed him, and then took on a fully wolven form.


    The wind wolf herself now stood over him, she turned her face towards the wind and called upon her pack mates. And they began to run together.


    Scratch climbed to his feet.


    An owl snatched the stick insect out of the air and sat down on the hanging rug to kill it.


    "She''s surrendered all control to me," Scratch said to the owl, "your curse works wonders."


    The owl transferred back into a woman, taking a stand behind the suspended weave.


    "That is not how it''s used," she crushed the familiar in her hand, "but you seem to take a perverse joy in using magic outside its intended application, don''t you?"


    "I didn''t think I''d offended you, madame Lacrima. Let me apologize, offer a cold drink maybe."


    She pushed some air through her nose. "Heat''s died down too much for cold drinks, so I''ll extend my graceful nature. If only for my own convenience. But you musn''t forget that I am your first and true patron, even when we submit to the lich for his power."


    Scratch held back a grin, pressing it into a mere smile. Lydia with her bandits had been his real first patron, but some engineered desperation had reversed that dynamic. Lacrima, too, was becoming increasingly reliant on the Promise''s cooperation. "How could I forget a holy mission by a goddess," he said. "This peace is only a set-up for that. It''ll allow us to rebuild our numbers, and then fight back the fairies. Ritter''s magic will only help you there."


    "You have a plan?"


    "Sure," he picked up his carpet beater, "well... after a failed rebellion and all those incursions we''re working on replenishing our supply of brood mothers. There should be other bandit refugees available but... it''s a sensitive subject."


    "Mhm..." she nodded, "I should mesmer them. Keep them in a catatonic state while you use their bodies."


    "That..." Scratch looked uncomfortable, "maybe for a plan B. I''ve kinda done my best to talk the position up, you know. I think that would, huh... diminish... the prestige. Which is already kinda far-fetched. And we rely on the mothers to raise the boys as well. That''s what started this whole thing."


    Lacrima looked frustrated, but then caught herself. "If you have the goddess'' faith, then you do mine, Scratch."


    "Wonderful," he gestured at her to step away from the rug so her could continue beating the dust out of it, "then you can make peace with our new roommate?"


    "Make peace? How can I? What possessed you to bring that monster into our home?"


    "That''s the lich''s power we''re submitting to. He was here with us, you know, after my talk with the count."


    <hr>


    "I trust your talk went well?" The skeletal minotaur said.


    "Trust, do you? I saw your eyes in the skies. I think you know exactly out it went."


    "It went well."


    "Indeed."


    "Please," Ritter extended his arm towards Scratch''s own home, "come inside. I wish to congratulate you."


    Inside, Lydia and the hobgoblins had already been seated at the dining table.


    Lydia was still disheveled then. Holding her face and muttering to herself.


    A duo of skeletons were holding up the strategic map of the area they had been using, only it had been framed.


    No, it wasn''t framed, the frames were the bones of the monsters themselves, clasping the edges.


    The body of Feylina Dieless was there as well, the deathly energies had been removed from her body and she looked peaceful.


    The lich had made the macabre choice to give her a glass coffin and display her on the table.


    "I must say that in my many centuries I have never been able to escape the persecutions of the human kingdoms, I commend you for that." As he spoke he wiped the marking representing the army off the map, freeing a whole region. "And it is good that you did, as this region covers the second wyrm segment."


    He replaced the army with new markings, a trail of stars, forming a snaking constellation from the rolling hills through the witchwood and ending at the Promise.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "It''s... dots?" Constantine asked.


    "This is one of the thirteen remains of Malsidious the Wyrm." He announced dramatically.


    The revelation came to bitter little fanfare as the hobgoblins were only confused, and the bandit was more horrified than enthused.


    "Perhaps you can provide some context." Scratch suggested helpfully.


    The skull moved expressionlessly. "...Very well then. Let me not presume a general worldliness. Malsidious is... There are twelve gods. First are the gods of fire, air, water, and earth that preside of the worldly nations. Their balance shapes the balance of the world. Gods are much like elementals you see, they care only to expand their source of power. The nobility of Reddington may worship the fire goddess Rhada, but Rhada would bathe all their lands in everlasting fire if she could. The more fire in the world, the more powerful she is."


    Will turned his head to his mother when her goddess was mentioned, she had seemed tense and on-edge ever since the lich had entered their home, but name ''Malsidious'' had drained the blood from her face completely.


    Lydia didn''t seem eager to defend her faith, "and there are other gods," she said.


    "Indeed! There is also Noruk, god of beasts, and Sonma, god of machines. The gods of love and war, Dither and Dronk, and Guth, goddess of magic-"


    "And someone called Malsidious." Scratch interrupted him from reciting the whole pantheon, urging him on.


    "There once was." Ritter said. "A thirteenth god, a god of evil."


    "The one that was killed." Scratch leaned forward, attentive now, "how do you kill a god?"


    "That is part of the general knowledge. Even the beastmen of the yellow wastes tell this story to their children. In his eternal battle with Benesant, Malsidious took the form of a Wyrm and descented from the celestial plane unto our skies to eat the world."


    "And he was defeated a hero from another world." Lydia said through her hair, "but that''s just a fairytale."


    "It as true as you or I. We are standing on the remains of the wyrm right now!"


    There was the sound of scraping chairs as they all looked down. But there was just the hardwood of the manor flooring below.


    The lich managed to show some exasperation with just his arm movements, where his expression lacked. "Your dungeon is dug out by a wyrm shard. A fragment of the great wyrm''s body, piloted by a fragment of the great wyrm''s mind."


    "Cyclophan." Ada said, he had appeared to her before.


    The lich nodded, "one of many. When Malsidious'' body was shattered, so was his divine essence. Now each aspect of his power is ruled over by a small god. Evil gods, they''re called, for ''kishin'', the ruinous powers. Your Cyclophan controls one of the shards of the second segment. I serve the god of death and undeath, Pinchin, and it is he who commands the winged shard of my tower. There are many like them, and they vie for possession of the limited known shards."


    "Aha! So these are all dungeon cores just like we have!" Constantine jumped up and pointed at the stars on the map.


    The lich righted himself, and an aura of imposing magic encircled him. "Over many years I was able to determine the location and scatter of just a few of the great wyrm''s segments. You bear witness to the most precious treasure map in existence. Dark sorcerers on all inhabitated planes of the world would gladly give their right arm just for a hint on where to find a wyrm shard."


    "Can we talk to this Pinchin directly?" Scratch asked, "if all of this comes from him."


    "You are speaking to him," the skeleton bend forward, allowing him to gaze into the emptiness of his eyesocket. "The god of undeath is able to see whatever the skeletal undead do, hear, whatever we hear. His presence is with us, and he speaks through me. So... speak, what words do you have for the god of death?"


    Put on the spot, Scratch arched back, "uhm... uh..."


    "What do you want from us?" Ada said.


    "It is the ambition of all kishin to rejoin into one being once more. To become Malsidious. But for that, all shards must be united, and the great Wyrm must be remade." He tapped the map, "it is now clear that the location of the second segment is not as closely guarded as we believed. The goblin warrens will be tasked with protecting it."


    There was a stunned silence.


    Lydia was aghast. "You want to bring back the great Wyrm? That would destroy-"


    "Leave it to us." Scratch said over her, bowing sycophantically.


    Ritter''s pomp deflated somewhat, "this was the most close-guarded secret in existence. If it has managed to spread into the earth, it must be torn it out by the roots. Tear down the remains of that little shadow organization, and present me their heads."


    "S-sure."


    "In the meantime, I want you to build up and fortify these shards. Make use of their power."


    "So we''ll have more dungeons? With more magic just like this one?" Ada asked.


    "No. Not like this one. Properly. My apprentice is already here, he shall guide you on the proper exploitation of dungeon magic."


    "He''s already here? Where?"


    A large bat released itself from the ceiling, it uprighted itself with two flaps of its leather and then landed on all fours on top of the glass coffin.


    It hissed right into Scratch''s face. "You are dead. You vere blind to your own surroundings, vere I a real enemy zhis vould have been zhe end for your leader."


    "I smelt your rancid blood the moment I came in here, vampire." Lydia said.


    Her dagger was pressed against his throat, as she had seen him coming.


    The bat withdrew, he threw his leathery wings backwards and they became a cape.


    A small man dressed in aristocratic black and red stood where the bat had been, "zhat doesn''t count," he blushed and averted his eyes, "I vouldn''t have given you an opening if I vere a real attack."


    "I shall introduce you. Promise, meet Noss Fleder. Noss, these will be your hosts. Noss is a pureblood vampire count."


    "Nice to meet you Noss. Kids, say hi to Noss."


    The hobgoblins obediently muttered some pleasantries, and Scratch made a fake smile, but he had a mistrust in his eyes that the vampire could certainly pick up on.


    -


    The vampire quickly made himself at home, and started commanding the goblins around like they were his servants.


    "Zhis will be my room, zhen? I vill require thicker curtains, and zhe bed must have a spring mattress."


    Scratch took Ada apart, "you can see what''s going on, don''t you?"


    "Yeah, he''s totally bossing us around."


    "And not for nothing. Listen, Ritter clearly considers us his property. Using the death spire has cemented that. He''s not leaving this pipsqueak with us to help us with the shards, he''s planting a spy. Everything we say or do around him will be reported to top brass."


    She looked over her shoulder, "oh, he''s a weapon. So we should kill him?"


    "Of course not. As soon as you get the chance, slip out of here and wake up Barb."


    "Barb? Barbara."


    "Tell her the walls have just grown ears. I don''t want to risk her being loose with secrets before we have a chance to tell her."


    "The walls... Ew."


    "It''s just a saying."


    They parted to hide their conspiracy.


    Still... Scratch said to himself, he''s got us on the ropes. First with the army, then with the weapon. He''s always working on a way to subtly bring us down. I can''t let anything he does go unscrutinized.


    -


    Before leaving, the Lich took the vampire to the roof of the mansion, to speak in privacy.


    "You realize for what purpose I have left you with these people?"


    "I do..."


    "To make some friends, Noss! You''re over a century now, and I am an old man. It is time you learn how to socialize."


    "Friendship... is a veakness. I must study magic further, to-"


    "Fleder. The strongest magic is the kind you develop for yourself. You and I both know you will never be a mighty warrior, learn to cut loose a litte. You have many centuries ahead of you to embitter you, don''t you start early."


    "...Understood."


    The lich looked out over the small town and its farms, "I have not chosen this place for you arbitrarily. Goblins live like you do, they avoid the sunlight, and their homes will be made to your scale. You will be right at home."


    "Among goblins."


    "These goblins are intelligent, Noss. I have shown their leader my generosity, and he has never taken advantage of it, or demanded more than his share."


    "I suppose it  be rewarding to have some minions finally..."


    "Friends, Fleder."


    "Ugh, Friends."


    "Good man."


    <hr>


    With the Promise receiving warning ahead of time, some of the more sensitive business could be move downstream to Eston.


    Had the situation been different, the bandits receiving a new identity could have been thoroughly informed ahead of time. But as it stood, they received their new names only once entering the city.


    "Melbourne, from the western barony," Scratch said to Huckabee, "you''re already enrolled in the tanners'' guild."


    "Melbourne... really?"


    "I didn''t come up with it. Here are your papers."


    They sat in a port warehouse during the night, and should have been rather safe from onlookers, yet it seemed to Huckabee that Scratch could have shown a bit more unease hanging around the works of man without a disguise.


    "I''m sure you know all about your comrades that already have a position. Stanford is a cobbler in your district, he still uses healing magic on thieves'' guild members. Wounds they wouldn''t be able to explain at a church, you know the kind."


    "He''s still working for the guild?" One of the other bandits asked.


    "Of course, did you think your negotiating position has changed now that you''re here? You just have more to lose, don''t you? Anyway, here are your house keys... Bree, the house keys."


    The massive troll carefully plucked the items from a bundle laying in the palm of her hand, using her large fingers.


    "We''re just taking what we were promised, okay?" Huckabee said uncomfortably, "we were only ever here to become citizens again. So... if there aren''t enough bandits left to manage the territory..."


    "We''re working on attracting people again," Scratch said. "We lost some connections getting rid of parts of the guild, but they can be repaired, with enough money."


    "Ah," Huckabee was put at ease, "well you''ve got enough gold."


    "That isn''t spending money. The gold at the Promise is there to back the paper currency, I''m banking for the broodmothers. The spending money will come from selling insurance, and you''re going to sell it for me."


    "You''re putting us to work," one said, "that wasn''t part of the deal. If you think you can extort us-"


    "I could extort you as much as I''d like." Scratch spat, "but I can promise your lazy ass you won''t have to lift a finger for this one."


    "What then? Are we bound to paying-"


    Huckabee calmed him down with a gesture. "Tell us the rest of the arrangement Scratch."


    "Thank you. I should have prepared slides, but here goes nothing. It''s about risk spreading."


    "Risk spreading?"


    "Exactly. As you know, I have been funding drug trade, scamming operations, and robberies all over the city. But prospective guild members are still held back by the risks of failure."


    "Of course."


    "Of course, you say. But for me, if I can fund ten operations, knowing that one will fail, but not which, I will gladly do so. The dividends of the nine will make up for the loss of the one."


    "That''s easy for you to say..." a bandit replied, "it''s a static cost. You''re not gambling with everything you have."


    "Exactly. My risk is spread. This can be achieved for individual entrepreneurs as well, if they participate in an insurance fund."


    "...Ensurance?"


    "Insurance. All participants pay a static amount, and those that fail receive a bailout from the fund. You know... bribes for law enforcement, money for a new identity... paying off loan sharks. That way, instead of an unknown person between them losing everything, they all lose a little, still making a net profit. Then the insurance manager takes a commission, and he uses that to pay for women, that''s how insurance works."


    The goblin shrugged deeply, and sighed.


    "But these people don''t understand abstract financial instruments, so I had to dress it up a little differently. It''s a warranty. A no-good-money-back guarantee now."


    "For what?"


    "For you guys. I''m making each of you the official Thieves Guild Excellence Coordinator to your own criminal sub-organization. Criminal masterminds will pay for your consultation, in making sure nothing goes wrong."


    "Scratch..." Huckabee whispered, "I don''t know anything about planning crimes or... co-ordening excellence or such things."


    Scratch waved away his concerns, "I know that, you know that, and your clients definitely know that. They''ll hire you for the warranty, the official


    Promise by the guild leadership that if things go wrong, we''ll have their back. So you see... it''s no work at all. You just attend a couple of meetings, report to me if they do something I wouldn''t like, and there''s no trouble."


    The bandits looked at each other and nodded. The terms were acceptable. "...okay then."


    "Okay Then!" Scratch clapped his hands. "You probably can''t wait to check out your new digs. Well, go ahead then. I''m cutting you loose. If there''s any problem, send a pigeon, or better yet, go through Mabel... Good luck!"


    -


    But Huckabee stayed behind when the others left.


    "There''s something I''ve been wanting to show you..." he said. "A whisk card."


    "Whisk cards... a world memory." Scratch nodded, "yeah those things are creepy. Make me feel like I''m being watched at all times."


    "See... it''s the boss." Huckabee retrieved the card from his pocket. ''Lydia Harkness, bandit leader'' it said.


    The picture on the front was of a version of Lydia that didn''t exist anymore. Perched on a tree branch, knives at the ready, her face full of smug confidence.


    "The lycanthropy must have made her a new person. Don''t these usually take two weeks-?"


    "I found this two months ago."


    Huckabee pressed the card into Scratch''s hand.


    "It was just after you returned from the dead. I think you can guess why she wasn''t a ''bandit leader'' anymore. If I had let anyone else seen it, they would have guessed that as well."


    Scratch jaw clenched as he looked at the card again.


    "The Promise as it is now works, it protects people," Huckabee said. "But if the people knew Lydia isn''t really in charge anymore, if they knew for certain they were taking orders from a goblin with no adult to keep him in check... I don''t know how many would accept that."


    "But now she''s made a further transformation."


    "There will be another whisk card. It will probably say ''broodknight'', or ''goblin wife'' or something like that. If you replace that one with this, nobody ever has to see it."


    "Huckabee... you''re a good man."


    "I''m only paying back what you have shown us. I don''t know what we would have done after the guild staff first obliterated our camp if you and your family hadn''t been there."


    Scratch pressed his lips together, knowing full well that among the other whisk cards locked away in his secret box was one that depicted him and his brothers framing the bandits for killing adventurers, causing the attack in the first place. "Good man."


    <hr>


    Vampire Count


    Family: Undead


    Threat Level: A


    Reward: 5,000 gold


    A noble with the rank of count that has fallen to vampirism. Although vampires have the ability to pass as humans during the nighttime, vampire barons and counts will be notable enough to be recognized by face. The adventurers'' guild is not generally relied upon to report on the presence of such high level vampires, as their corruption will be public knowledge, and a pureblood vampire born to them would be as well.


    Once a count embraces vampirism, their title and status as a human is revoked, and they are to be considered monsters for extermination. However, these vampires can manage to hold their castle and the loyalty of a small group of followers. These vampire castles are legally considered dungeons, and can be cleared by adventuring parties of rank A.


    The natural servants of any vampire are ghouls, but vampire counts can also have vampire knights and barons among their minions, as well as living people. Besides the martial prowess of higher nobility, they possess vampiric abilities, such as hypnosis, shapeshifting, and the bloodrise form.


    As with all vampires, vampire counts are most vulnerable to light magic and sunlight. Their body is controlled from the heart rather than the brain, and it is the heart that needs to be removed for the creature to die.


    Important notice: as of the twelfth year after the end of the Grienician monarchy, consorting with vampires is punishable by exile and death. Acting in the name, command, or general best interest of a vampire noble is to be treated as the highest taboo, for which there can be no redemption in any of the four realms.

 Murder

    Ada was developing a headache.


    In her short life, she had had two headaches before.


    Once when the goblin slayer had killed her brother, and one when she had started a civil war in the Promise and made an enemy out of her mother.


    Though that last one could be chalked up to dehydration.


    With the third headache, the pattern became clear. Stress causes headaches.


    And having to deal with the young vampire count was the third most stressful thing that had even happened to her.


    "Do not touch zhese, zhese are arcane tomes beyond your primitive comprehension. Carry zhe box upstairs, and do not scratch it zhis time."


    Noss Fleder had laid claim to an entire section of the basement. He had made them raise the ceiling using their precious few spellpaper strips and carve out an additional cove in the freshly exposed wall.


    The alcove was his second story, where he wanted to rest. The ground floor was a living space and study, already filling up with bookshelves and sculpting tools.


    "Please, do your best not to ruin it." The vampire pleaded, as if had been extraordinarily patient with them.


    Ada and Constantine were dragging his coffin up a makeshift ramp from debris and gravel. Normal goblins weren''t strong enough to move the heavy object, so the ruling family themselves had been recruited.


    Constantine was frowning so hard his eyebrows met. And Ada wasn''t far from look as silly. "I''m not your flunky, do it yourself." She grunted.


    "How dare you, I am of noble birth. Be honored zhat I allow you in my private quarters."


    Ada let the heavy object go, it slid down the steep incline, taking Constantine with him.


    "I''m not honored. Honor is a scam humans play on humans to get them to kill themselves," she said, nearly quoting her father exactly.


    The boy took his cape and spread it wide. "Do not test me, subhuman. I vould be a monstrous error to antagonize a pureblood vampire count."


    She slid down the hill and got close to him. "You better be nice to us, cause we don''t let everybody that lives her do whatever they want you know. If you attack me now-"


    "SILENCE! You will activate it." The vampire roared dramatically.


    "Oh." The words were so unexpected she almost apologized. "...activate what?"


    "If you enrage me, it will only serve to evoke... my bloodrise form."


    "What''s your bloodrise form?" Constantine asked, "is it nearby somewhere?"


    Noss scoffed, "it is the primary ability of any vampire. My vampiric blood will heat up and boil, great wings will grow from my back, and my fangs will grow into mighty swords. It is the form in which vampires fight."


    Constantine cocked his head. "...Would they fit in your mouth?"


    "They wouldn''t, would they?" Ada said, "and with great wings, you wouldn''t be able to move. So..."


    "You fools. My entire body would grow, vampire counts in bloodrise form have been known to obliterate castles."


    "Well I''m not a castle." Ada said defiantly.


    Noss shook his head, "you do not wish to content with me at my full power."


    "Bring it- Constantine throw me my whip..."


    He retrieved the weapon from the corner of the room.


    She caught it and gave it a crack. "Bring it on."


    "Ada."


    Second stood in the entrance to the new room.


    "Scratch wants you to tan the hides. You were supposed to do them this morning."


    "I''m helping Noss," she said, gesturing towards her weapon.


    "Bree is here. She can carry the box."


    "Okay, I will. Right after-"


    "Now, Ada."


    "Ugh!" She punched her arms straight down and walked out.


    Noss exhaled. "I''m grateful... zhat I don''t have to kill you."


    She gave him the rudest gesture Cobaline had taught her, which was to stretch out one''s mouth with their hands and stick out their tongue.


    "Are you... going to kill me?" Constantine asked.


    "Do you want that?"


    "No."


    "Zhen I vill not. I am a generous lord."


    -


    The fracas in the basement had been defused, but the peace was short-lived.


    Leading up to dinner time, Quiet was preparing his cooking.


    They had gotten access to quite the variety of herbs and spices from Eston, and the little goblin had become fond of testing and experimenting with them.


    He had created a little mise-en-place of ingredients for a heavily spliced breaded liver platter and was just heating up the oil when the scene was torn down by Noss.


    "Out. Out vith it. Zhis is poison."


    "Eh!" The goblin half-protested meekly.


    "You know vhat zhis is?" The vampire held up a garlic braid. "Zhis vill inflict terrible agonies upon a vampire, I do not even vant it in zhe house."


    He went to the window to throw it out, but it was only early in the fall and there were still rays of sunshine peering in at that hour.


    He nearly screamed. "Agh. And properly fasten zhe curtains. I am burned by zhe light, you know!?"


    "Yoo-no-hoo-nose." Felix jumped in through the window, flapping the curtain and making the vampire jump back. "Are you fighting?"


    "Zhis creature brings into zhis home, terrible poisons. I vant him removed."


    Felix curled his eyebrows and took the garlic from him. "I don''t think you can remove Quiet. Everybody loves quiet... Hey, this isn''t poison, it''s garlic. It''s for in the food, right Quiet."


    Quiet nodded.


    "Garlic vill kill me. A vampire is a powerful being, but ve must control our environment. Take zhis table."


    "Zhe ta- I mean the table?"


    "Yes. Oak wood. If it vere splintered and used to pierce my heart, vould die."


    Felix nodded sagely, "mhm... that''s true for goblins as well."


    "I vant it removed."


    "You vant- You want everything removed. The sunlight, the furniture... the food. Didn''t you say you weren''t going to eat our food?"


    "I don''t vant it near me, it could be used against me."


    "Well just stay underground. Don''t try to make this place like underground as well. I like sunlight!"


    "You purport to give me orders?"


    Felix leaned back, frustrated. His mother had made him promise not to start a fight like his sister had. "No..."


    "Do not make me use my bloodrise form."


    "I won''t..."


    "Good. Zhis table vill be removed. Now."


    Noss flapped his cape and resolutely turned around.


    Felix made a rude face, but quickly straightened it as the vampire looked back.


    -


    When dinner came, it was disappointing.


    A goulash without pepper or garlic, served on top of two coffee tables and a footrest placed together.


    The bat had his own seat at the so-called table, not eating, but observing the family.


    "Papa." Ada hissed under her breath. "We have to kill him."


    "I know there are security concerns. But what goes for the humans goes doubly for the lich, it''s-"


    "-not about spy stuff." She said, almost out loud, "he''s just... bad."


    Scratch raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were beyond this by now. Are you really letting your passions override your judgment again?"


    "Yes, but this time I have to. Papa, he acts like we''re outer colony ferals."


    Felix had noticed what they were talking about and moved his chair next to them to participate in the conversation. "Yeah. We have to do away with everything, and if there''s anything he doesn''t like he says he''ll use his bloodrise form to kill us. He''s dangerous."


    "You two straighten out and face your food. There''s nothing we can lose from Noss being alive that''s worse than what would happen if we kill him, so hush." He put a spoonful of goulash into his mouth.


    As he had his mouth full, the vampire stood up on his chair and tapped a dessert spoon against a wine glass. "Ahem. Silence please. Zhank you. I vish to bring out a toast."


    As he said it, a couple of the hobgoblins looked around expecting toast to be brought out.


    But no bread came forward, and instead the boy continued to monologue.


    "I suppose I must zhank you for taking me in and housing me, at my master''s request."


    Ada muttered something under her breath.


    "Now, as part of your obligation toward me, I vould like to feed."


    "Take whatever you''d like," Lydia said. She had regained some of her human dignity and sat poised and groomed at the head of the table. Ready to dispense her generosity as a host. "The food is free from your... problems."


    "No. A vampire does not masticate on fibers and tissue, vhat I need is blood." He grabbed her wrist and pulled himself alongside it. "Only zhe blood of a beautiful and strong voman vill do."


    As he began to sniff her neck, Lydia shot a concerned look at Scratch. He frowned but did not speak up.


    "Do not vorry, I promise zhis vill be quite... pleasurable."


    As he sunk his fangs into her neck, she let out a short gasp and then became flushed.


    The vampire sucked in her blood and her muscles tensed, a stifled moan escaped her, and then a stronger one.


    Scratch put down his spoon and rapped his fingers against the table in frustration.


    The vampire locked eyes with him smugly, he caressed her gently as he continued sucking, and her sounds of ecstasy filled the room.


    "Okay," said from the side of his mouth, "you can kill him. But make it look like an accident."


    <hr>


    There were no accidents immediately forthcoming. The hobgoblins weren''t exactly veterans in the field of covert assassination.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    There were a few sudden cave-ins and clumsily placed garden tools in the vampire''s path the following week, but he barely registered them as threats. His strength and speed was simply that superior.


    "Zhis dungeon leave a lot to be desired," he told Scratch eventually, "zhe vaulting is unstable, and zhe guardians inexcusably disorganized. Ve must streamline zhe design."


    "Watcha talking ''bout?" Scratch quickly lit up a bluegrass cigar.


    "I am talking about fulfilling zhe purpose zhe ravenous lich has assigned to me. I have scouted your dungeon, and it follows zhe traditions of zhe maze, correct?"


    You''re looking to commune with me?


    Keep an ear on this conversation, I want to know when he''s lying.


    "I asked you is zhat correct? You must answer."


    "Sorry, I don''t know what you''re talking about. We''re not following any traditions here, we''re just making room as needed."


    As long as you recognize that I am not your personal lie detector.


    The vampire shrugged and shook his head, "by zhe dark lord, zhis is vorse zhan I thought. I suppose we must start at zhe very beginning. Follow me."


    As they descended into the basement layer, a bookshelf tilted over and nearly crushed them. It had been moved onto uneven ground. But the vampire simply caught it and pushed it back.


    "Disorganized." He told the goblin.


    "I''ll say." Scratch said annoyed, if that trap had worked it would have killed him too, or anybody else in the household.


    -


    Noss stopped in the middle of the basement to point at the different doorways. "A dungeon, with or without core, vill channel zhe flow of magic into concentrated streams. Diverting zhe path vill disperse zhe flow, but it may be necessary to lead intruders astray. In any case, zhe flow must not be lead back into zhe main stream at an opposite angle, zhis reduces zhe magical energy and has no benefit."


    He''s telling the truth, Cyclophan commented, or he believes he is, anyway.


    Any hidden agenda?


    I wouldn''t know.


    "Okay." Scratch said to the vampire, "Say we board up these doorways, open up some others, we can improve the flow of magic."


    "Zhat''s right."


    "And what would be the benefit to you?"


    "Zhe benefit is to you, not me."


    It''s true.


    "Vhen you increase zhe power of zhe dungeon, zhe power of your monsters vill increase as vell. Have you considered more entrances?"


    Scratch put on a difficult face, "let''s stick to one entrance for now."


    "Just as vell, each entrance is a vulnerability as too. Now, to zhe beast layer."


    -


    "I suppose you have something to fault here as well." Scratch said while chewing on his cigar.


    "Zhe animals do much to guide zhe magic," Noss said while facing a wolf, "take zhe large animals and put zhem into side alcoves, so zhat zhey attract zhe magic, but do not block it. You can see how zhey disrupt the flow, can''t you?"


    "Huh? No I can''t perceive magic."


    Noss looked at him curiously, "I see..." He turned to point at the lift, which had recently received a folding door after its renovation, "and put a strong monster at zhe exit. Zhis is zhe most concentrated stream so far, a basilisk or such creature makes use of ambient mana for its abilities, it vill be at its strongest here. And it vould block zhe entrance to zhe next layer."


    Yes. A boss.


    "Ve call zhis a boss monster."


    I''ve been telling you to get me a boss monster. I like this guy.


    "It is zhe responsibility of zhe evil god to attract and evolve monsters. Zhis Cyclophan has failed you so far."


    Nevermind. I don''t like him. No appreciation for practical complications.


    "Zhere are techniques for monster breeding. But zhese are errant details, zhe failure in dungeon design lies after zhis."


    "What? The elevator?"


    "And vhat lies beyond it."


    Noss pulled the wooden panels of the folding door aside and tried to step into the box, but Scratch caught up to him.


    "Oopsie, watch out. We had a trapdoor installed so we don''t have to ruin the whole thing anymore. You gotta slide this block in place so you don''t fall through. It''s like a boobie trap." As he talked, he pushed a wooden rectangle that had been designed to appear fixed over the handrail to the middle of the box, which pushed several beams in place underneath the floor.


    "Mhm." The vampire studied the mechanism as they both got into the box.


    He suddenly unlocked it, open the floor below them.


    Scratch didn''t have time to respond in a panic, he was already falling.


    -


    Just before his head would splatter on the stalagmites below, Scratch was saved by a bat creature.


    Not one of the dragonbats of the cavern, but Noss Fleder in his bat form.


    A nasty claw clasped his ankle yanking him upwards.


    Again Scratch was flying through the air, but not from as high, and he smacked down merely painfully on the wooden walkway.


    "Agh! What the hell was that!?"


    The vampire landed softly next to him, "that was hardly a fall at all. Are you not any tougher zhan your trolls?"


    Scratch got up and rubbed his painful knee. "No. Of course not. Why would I even need trolls? Ouch."


    "You''re zhe dungeon master. You''re not... just a regular goblin. Are you?"


    They stared at each other for a moment.


    "You made me drop my cigar." Scratch said.


    "How old are you?" Noss asked, curious now.


    "Oh, you know." Scratch waved his hand. "Old soul. I could ask the same for you. Or I suppose a vampire doesn''t age. Are you stuck like that forever?"


    Noss threw him his cigar. "A pureblood is a vampire that vas never alive. We age at one-tenth the speed of mortals. A turned vampire looking like me vould be young, recently turned as a child, but I am a pureblood, I vas never mortal. Today, as you see me, I am nearly a century old."


    "Then I''ll start calling you old man." Scratch got up and put the burning stick back between his teeth.


    He''s telling the truth. Cyclophan said.


    He''s got no reason to lie.


    "Now I''ll tell you what''s wrong vith zhis part of the dungeon."


    -


    As Noss saw it there was more wrong than right with the cavern.


    The wide open space saw the flow of magic disperse, becoming weaker when it should be getting stronger deeper in.


    And the opening into the sea and its skies served only to disrupt the momentum, settling the pressure into a uniform aura around the witch''s abode.


    The solution, he quickly diagnosed, would be more architecture.


    "Zhe machines trap in some of zhe streams. However, zhey swirl vithout purpose. Look, mists and vill-o-visps, magic energy resolving randomly. I have already designed a sanctum for zhis layer, you must supply me zhe materials."


    "A sanctum? Sure." Scratch had long ago decided that magic defied all reason and that he would not even begin to understand it.


    But Noss insisted on explaining it anyway. "You may no be able to perceive magic, but you must know zhat magic users use mana to cast zheir spells. Mana is nothing more zhan trapped magic, zhat can be released at vill. Zhe magic insists on flowing downwards, towards zhe abyss, by restricting zhe ways zhe escaping mana can flow, a caster makes it resolve into a desired effect. Just as zhe water of zhe river is used to turn zhe mill... or as zhe prisoners of var perform labour in zhe hopes of being set free. Vell... magic does not need to be trapped as mana to resolve into magic, you see it in zhe powers of dungeon beasts. Zhe stream of zhe dungeon is so powerful, ve can resolve continuous magic as flows zhrough specially designed architecture. Zhis is called divine architecture, or sanctums. Zhe good dungeons all have them."


    "...okay?"


    "Remind me to show you zhe designs later, I vill go over zhe mathematics vith you."


    "Is that what you''re here to do?" Scratch asked, "create magic rooms for us?"


    That''s why you want me to lie detect, it''s about the Ravenous Lich planting him here.


    Noss turned around. "My skills extend far beyond dungeon architecture."


    He''s avoiding the question.


    I noticed. "Yeah? What else is there?"


    "Zhe elves. Vhat vill you do vith zhem?"


    Changing the subject. "My sons are keen on them. It''s an experience of sorts, whether we can handle subjecting prisoners. If it works, I plan on taking more."


    "Zhey vill also provide opportunities to feed for me..." Noss licked his lips, "but zhe underworld is too open for proper divine architecture. If you vant to maintain zhe stream zhere, you must install a more powerful monster. Zhe elves might have to be moved."


    "Moving the elves. Check. I''ll put it all on the very big list of things I will possibly consider thinking about in the future."


    This angered the vampire. "Zhese are not suggestions! Ve must secure zhe second segment, and for zhat you must do as I say. First here, and zhen with zhe other shards."


    "I see, if it''s for the sake of-"


    Noss plucked the cigar out of the goblin''s mouth. "Zhat you need zhis to even hear zhe voice of your god is pathetic. I expected a dungeon master, vhat I have is a child." He threw it away, "and vhen I speak to you, I speak truly. Do not seek to test me vith zhe god of lies, or I should become angry."


    "Fine."


    "I vill enter my bloodrise form, Scratch."


    "I said fine."


    "Good."


    With that out of the way, the hierarchy was re-established.


    <hr>


    Lydia Harkness'' primary concern, currently, was earning back her dignity as a human.


    Surrendering to the wolf spirit, which she occasionally had to do to pacify it, usually left her naked and caked in mud somewhere in the wild.


    When talking, she could barely keep up a conversation. Despite herself, she would fall into the thought patterns of her counterpart, or suddenly bark in the wolven language.


    Existence was humiliating, so she needed an escape.


    When the children were out, chaperoning the elves on their excursion, Lydia Harkness was let herself be spoiled.


    She had just enjoyed a long, hot bath, and now sat wrapped in silk on a comfortable chair, while Scratch combed her hair.


    "This is so nice." She said, slightly lightheaded and enchanted.


    "Well we want to look nice when we have company over, don''t we?" Scratch whispered.


    "Mhm." She sniffed him without really listening.


    But when Scratch had come up to spoil her, he had brought the vampire with him.


    "Your blood runs hot," he grunted, approaching her from the side and putting his face to her forearm, "it beckons to me."


    He began to bite into her, which was so painful and pleasurable.


    "You''re just going to let him?" Scratch asked her accepting pose, but she grabbed his head and kissed him to shut him up.


    She was caught in a moment of ecstasy, and before she knew it, the demon Youthere had creeped in.


    He rubbed his cheek against her leg, "such a beautiful body..." he murmured, "...so ready for the corruptions of desire."


    She despised the creature, but she could feel the truth in his words. She had long run away from her desires, despised herself as a monster, but she had become indulgent now.


    The demon himself embodied the lust she had long repressed, and she could not despise his appearance, which had now healed from its scarring.


    Holding in her hand she had Scratch, who embodied the freedom from taboo, who had shown her what her body was capable of and given her a new life without fear.


    And at her arm was the vampire, who had been placed at the Promise for his similarity in stature and his matching youth. He was an extension of the indulgent life she''d built, and embodied all of the dangers of surrendering to it.


    And she was surrendering. Her mind was slipping away and underneath this thin layer of silk-


    "LYDIA!"


    "FATHER!?"


    In the door stood captain Harkness, fuming.


    Lydia''s leg slammed shut and she closed the silk, her face redder than blood.


    "Captain," Scratch said pleasantly, "you''re early."


    "Have you brought me here to shock me?" The man was livid, "first with goblins and demonic copies, and now with the bandit boys?"


    Lydia was simply unable to speak, she clenched at her knees and stared at the floor.


    "The village boys were just leaving," Scratch said.


    Noss was about to protest, but Youthere pulled on his arm. He blew Lydia a kiss as they left.


    "How is the paperwork going?" The goblin asked, "to make me a baron."


    The senior Harkness stood there, wide-legged, waiting to be offered a seat.


    He let his eyes wander over the interior, the mansion was almost fitting for someone of his standing, but he had too much pride to show interest.


    "Captain?"


    "It''s constable now. I have been assigned to your camp. To represent human law."


    Scratch tutted, "taken away from your post. Such a humiliating loss in status, I can''t imagine anybody here would know what you''re going through."


    A faint smile appeared on Lydia''s face, as she dared look at him through her eyebrows.


    "...Your request has been submitted. To His Majesty the king. This is not just a matter of granting peerage. Your entire community must be pardoned. And your race."


    "Constable."


    "What?"


    "Let me show you where you''re staying."


    <hr>


    Liorin was having the time of her life.


    Without Farith there, Albwynn didn''t feel any pressure to shun her, and the two could talk freely.


    "Ah, the sunlight!" Her fellow prisoner sighed, gratefully turning her face to the sea wind. "How I''ve missed the true face of nature."


    They were at the cavern docks during sunset, and taking in the vista.


    "Isn''t it amazing?" Liorin said, "all mine life, I hath lived so close to the ocean, yet I hath never seen it. A sunset..."


    Albwynn opened her eyes, a bit sad. "If it weren''t for the subhumans, I think I could love this place."


    "They art not such a curse. There he is!"


    Liorin ran up to the tiny sloop, where will was fastening the ropes.


    They had been allowed to explore the harbor town because there was no place for them to run away to. But the main event was a boat trip on open waters.


    The hobgoblin caught her by the waist and swung her around before setting her down on the deck.


    He held up his arms offering to do the same for Albwynn, but she wasn''t as receptive and ended up taking just a hand to step onto the boat.


    "I only just learned to use this, so watch out." He said, as he pushed them off with a paddle and began unfurling the luff.


    It took some time for them to escape the lee of the cliff side, but once they had, the mainsail took wind and they bounced off of the waves with high speed.


    Liorin squealed in delight, she had never seen anything like it.


    -


    They sailed around for some time, zig-zagging against the wind and turning around to follow it with great speed.


    Will involved the girls with controlling the ship, and they were able to occupy themselves fully with the task, putting all their sad thoughts aside.


    Eventually, the sun went under, and the elves couldn''t see ahead of themselves anymore. So they anchored the boat and began splash their feet in the water.


    "I believe I hath mastery of the ship now," Albwynn said, "I could captain it myself on a clear day."


    "Then we should come back here sometime," Will suggested.


    "Aye, but... the sacrifice."


    "I did not have to do anything, really," Liorin said, "I merely treated his leg."


    Will pointed at his bandaged limb.


    "These trips art not costly in the slightest."


    "Where did the others go?" Albwynn asked, changing the subject.


    "Pecorath and Thryst are in the animal cave, it''s like a forest so we thought it''d be familiar to them."


    "Is it really? I would like to visit it too some day."


    Will smiled. "You can!"


    "And the others art at the forges, witnessing the industry of the goblins." Liorin said, "I hath traveled through there before, the scale of it is most impressive."


    As they had been speaking, the lights of Eston in the distance had lit up, and they could see the jewel by the side of the coast.


    The elves stopped talking to gape at it, "the scale..."


    "That''s Eston," Will said proudly, "Papa says it belongs to us now."


    The city represented humanity, away from the goblins. But at that moment it seemed a hundred times more intimidating to them than the quiet cavern harbor.


    -


    They hadn''t eaten all evening, so they found themselves an eatery when they returned from the sea.


    Scratch had instituted private enterprise in their civilization not to have to administer all resources personally, but there weren''t exactly tourists at the harbor. The place was more of a communal dining room than a restaurant.


    They had to bend over to enter and the chairs were small, but the orphaned goblins running the place were happy have such prestigious guests in and were eager to please.


    Will payed for a large fish plate using small bills with the faces of his parents.


    "What art these portrets?" Liorin asked, "art they proof of thy heritage?"


    "Oh... no, they can be exchanged for gold."


    "These boys will exchange it for gold?"


    "Well, no. They''ll buy other stuff with it. But they could if they wanted, that''s why it has value."


    The fish plate was a freshly caught swordfish, man-sized, stuffed with locally grown potato and garlic, and with its extra bits still on.


    Liorin had been shown how to eat with knife and fork and she was eager to teach her friend.


    At that moment the dungeon was a whimsical place of fun and novel things, and good food.


    But reality came crashing back in with Noss Fleder the vampire.


    "I knew I vould find you here. My feeding was interrupted, stick out your arm."


    "Ah! What are you doing?" Albwynn recoiled in horror as the boy tried to grab her.


    "You belong to zhe dungeon, zhe dungeon must provide for me. Do not make me use my bloodrise form."


    Liorin jumped in between her friend and the vampire.


    He hissed threateningly.


    That''s when Will threw the swordfish at him.


    -


    "..."


    "He''s dead."


    Albwynn had her hand pressed against the vampire''s jugular.


    After the short fracas, the undead monster had keeled over and was now motionless on the floor.


    "How is that possible?"


    "Was there garlic in that thing?"


    Will was outside, pacing frantically back and forth. "Oh no. Oh no. What will dad say?" Then he thought about it a moment longer, "what will the lich say!? Oh No!"


    <hr>


    Fleder Castle


    Size: Medium


    Threat Level: C


    Realm: Blurich


    The count has fallen to vampirism more than two hundred years ago. He has isolated himself in his castle, feeding only on vermin and lost souls.


    Adventurers may encounter ghouls, mimics, and ravager bats. Treasure to be found in the castle include gold, ancient art, and high value whisk cards.


    In the catacombs lies Count Fleder himself. Challenging him is a rank A mission and requires written permission by the baron.


    When a high ranking vampire is challenged by adventurers that are not ready to face him, they serve only to bolster his army of thralls.

 Broken Heart

    Scratch had instructed a chalk outline to be drawn in the exact place and position Fleder died.


    The human bandit executing these details had worked in rather more artistic detail than necessary.


    The scene of crime was a post-modern art exhibit, depicting a boy in his death throes, grasping for life in an abandoned eating deck.


    The patrons of the establishment had been ushered outside, and were now being questioned.


    "I knoweth not how he died," Liorin said, shooting glances at Will. "He was harassing us and then he just keeled over. ''T must have been the garlic. He- was he really a vampire?"


    A few moments later, Albwynn had a different story. "This creature, I hath never seen it in mine life. Our company were long gone from this place at the time of his death."


    "Was no fight," the older goblin cook claimed, "fish jumps out of water, slaps man, man dead. Very sad."


    -


    "So... what did you find out?" Will asked nervously, when Scratch had him sit down in the questioning chair.


    "Well, you get bonus points for getting the elves to go along with it, but you have to get your people to get their story straight. Nothing more suspicious to a cop than conflicting testimony, I tell you what."


    "But we didn''t have time to do that!"


    "There never is." Scratch wagged his finger, "the first thing you do after an unplanned icing is you tell people what the story should be. Bam. In three seconds, right after the violence. That way it sticks in their mind."


    "Okay.. okay." Will fidgeted.


    "Now then... what''re we gonna tell the Ravenous Lich?"


    "Me?"


    "Ah!" Scratch tensed up and floundered onto the floor. "What the fuck!? What the actual fuck!!?" Even in the tensest of battles his goblin body had never experienced a shock like that.


    "Speak of the devil, huh? I received your proposal for the ingress and egress policy, and I considered it a too important matter to discuss via mail. And also, I wished to see how Noss is getting on."


    "Ah-aha," Scratch clambered back onto his feet, "well then. Let''s do things one at a time, if you follow me we can discuss the sea route."


    "...I would like to see Noss first."


    <hr>


    Ada and Constantine were halfway done filling up the coffin with gravel when the Ravenous Lich showed up at the dockyard.


    "Ah!" She tensed up, "it''s you!"


    "What is the meaning of this?"


    She looked at the corpse in the box, at the corpse looming over her, and at the corpse in the box again. "He''s still alive!" She said.


    Constantine quickly joined her in the deception. "We''re just playing a game, Noss is pretending to be dead and we''re pretending to bury him."


    Ada nodded, "first we''re weighing down the coffin and then..." she looked at Scratch gesturing for her to cut it off, "... we''re cutting off... his... head?"


    "Don''t pay attention to them, haha." Scratch laughed nervously, "they''re just children. I''m afraid Noss died after a tragic encounter with a swordfish. He-"


    "He''s not dead." The lich stated resolutely, "but he''s not pretending either."


    His massive looming body bend over the vampire and the hobgoblins.


    He had taken some sort of rat out of his smokey black cape and held it above the open casket.


    The rodent gave a short squeal and made a crunching noise.


    A thin stream of scarlet blood stood out against the night''s sky.


    It fell onto the vampire''s face and seeped into his mouth.


    After a second or so, he opened his eyes.


    "Noss, you''re alive!" Constantine gasped.


    "Great..." Ada grunted.


    -


    Neither undead asked any questions about the gravel.


    Noss cleaned himself up morosely. "So now you know my shame."


    "What?" Scratch asked.


    "You''ve unearthed my veakness."


    "...What?" He asked more annoyed.


    "I believe Noss Fleder has neglected to tell you about his disformity. Noss, that is very irresponsible of you."


    Noss looked away, "I just... vanted to be treated like a vampire count for once."


    Ritter turned to Scratch. "**You musn''t expect Noss to defend you against powerful foes. He can not enter his bloodrise form.**"


    "Can not enter- you''re always threatening us!" Ada pushed the little vampire.


    Noss pushed back. But though he was strong for his size, he was nowhere near a powerful noble.


    They ended up slapping at each other''s arms a bit, with no real winner.


    "Stop it." The lich put a large skeletal hand between them. "You''ll know what will happen."


    Scratch rubbed his chin. "He can''t enter the form... is that what happens instead? When you get agitated you die?"


    "Cardiac arrest," Noss said begrudgingly, "I vas born with a heart defect. And since zhe heart is zhe seat of zhe vampiric spirit, I cannot replace it. Vhen zhe heart should grow in size and grant me my true form, it cramps up instead. My body stops functioning, and I go dormant."


    "Luckily, any vampire can be revived with a little blood. Usually a plentiful waste product from butchering."


    "And it doesn''t even have to come from a beautiful woman." Ada said with disdain.


    "Of course not. The world would quickly run out of beautiful women. Or vampires. What quality would such blood even possess that vampires require?"


    "I mean we don''t question it," Scratch said, "magic is magic. It can''t be explained."


    "Not so! Magic follows rigid principles. If you are to become a dungeon lord, you must know how it functions. Which brings me to our next order of business."


    "Traffic ordinance?"


    "Warping circles."


    <hr>


    "Father." Lydia greeted him at the town gate.


    "You do not call me that." He stated curtly, "nor do you refer to yourself as Harkness. You have been disowned. You may call me constable Harkness."


    Her face didn''t betray emotion. "Constable Harkness. You are up rather early in the morning."


    It was just about dawn, a twilight hid most of the stars, but the sun hadn''t come up yet.


    "Of course I am. If I am to expose you. I must keep an eye on covert activity."


    "So you''ve been searching incoming wagons."


    "For stolen goods." He finished her sentence.


    "And forbidden materials." She continued.


    "And kidnapped women." He corrected.


    "You will not find any."


    "We''ll see about that."


    Their conversations fell quiet as quickly as it had begun.


    The constable held up another cart, this one with fired clay pots.


    He proceeded to check their contents one by one, holding up traffic.


    "This is not the place for that. Come with me." Lydia said.


    "Excuse me?"


    "Imported goods are kept in the warehouse. Come with me."


    He hesitated about calling out her tone. In the end he simply followed as she had demanded.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    -


    Lydia led the way over the gravel to the warehouses where commercial goods were stored.


    "All materials coming in or out of the Promise. Go through here."


    He cast his eye around the place.


    There where a few larger buildings, with proper walls and large wagon sized doors, but most of the space was occupied by a few freestanding roofs under which little piles of treasure were sheltered from the rain.


    By the side there was trampled mud on which unused carts themselves were parked, visibly unsheltered.


    There were use trails everywhere, from denizens carrying their belongings back and forth to their houses, which were along the main road.


    "How do I know you''re telling the truth?" He asked.


    "It''s a small town. One can search the premises in one day. One will find there is no other place to unload cargo wagons."


    "This is no town."


    She raised one eyebrow. "Is it not? Then what are you a constable of? Exactly?"


    He grumbled but didn''t have a retort.


    Lydia called a goblin over. "Go inform Barbara of this."


    The goblin looked between the two of them. "This?"


    "The constable wants to inspect the warehouse. Inform Barbara. I will be with him this time."


    The goblin nodded and ran off.


    "This time?" The constable asked.


    "I assume you plan to inspect it in the future? We must also keep an eye on you. When you do so."


    He scoffed at the lack of trust.


    -


    A thorough inspection of the area yielded no smuggled goods, no forbidden items, and no captured peasant girls.


    "Where do you keep the steel weapons?" He asked.


    "Steel is kept in the basement underneath the mansion. It is exhumed for war purposes only."


    "Where did you get it?"


    "There is a forge below the surface."


    "I shall need to see it."


    "...mhm."


    He dropped the sack of potatoes he had been inspecting, "I''ve seen enough. Show me the inside."


    "Be sure to leave all objects in the lot you found them in. They are assigned per address."


    "I haven''t moved your precious *produce*."


    A man that had had to starve like she had wouldn''t have disdained the peasant work like this.


    In order to enter the warehouse, Lydia received a key to the lever tumbler lock on the door.


    "Where did you obtain such a device?"


    She paused, then quickly swung open the door. "There are many disciplines among the dispossessed."


    "You''re saying there are bandit locksmiths?"


    "Is that so strange?"


    The constable went in ahead of her. "I suppose not."


    The truth was that many of the smaller, more advanced materials in their town were obtained via the thieves'' guild smuggling network, which the constable was not allowed to know about.


    "Once you''ve inspected these goods. Will you report to the king that our community is peaceful?"


    He barely looked over his shoulder. "I do not report directly to the king. There are bureaucrats going over this matter. If I find no proof of wrongdoing. That is all I will report."


    "If you had been here. You would know how much suffering the goblins had to accept. Just to avoid enraging the people."


    The constable punched a crate, "but I was not here. I was in the field. Watching good men and women die."


    His anger in turn sparked her anger. She was incensed at the one-sided recounting of events, much more goblins had died than young nobles in their struggle. But no amount of dead goblins could weigh up against his perceived loss.


    She breathed deeply and attempted to channel Scratch. "That must have been hard on you." An expression of sympathy, an olive branch.


    But he balked at her insincerity. "Lydia. No matter what you''ve convinced yourself. You do not live in a town. You live in a den of monsters. These goblins are subhuman abominations. Not townspeople. One get get three copper a head at the adventurer''s guild for killing them. You think you can be a citizen again? Look at yourself. Look at the way you live. You''ve gone truly mad."


    She wasn''t about to give him the satisfaction of losing her temper.


    Right now, a cool head and a witty comeback were what was required.


    She couldn''t immediately think of one.


    "Well I... won''t be taking advice from some stranger. Who is not my father."


    It''d have to do.


    -


    After the warehouse had been truly cleared of all suspicion, she locked them out and escorted him to the main road.


    "I suppose you will want to see the mansion." She said.


    "You''ll have prepared for that as well." He answered. "I will continue some other time. Having been up all night. I shall take my rest now."


    She walked him to the door of his provided housing.


    It was Huckabee''s former home, and featured a second floor. Which was fancy for a house in the Promise.


    It probably seemed pauper to the constable, who was used to having clean water readily available and indoor plumbing.


    "The next time you will be escorted by one or more goblins." She told him at the door.


    "Hm." He shut it in front of her.


    She had been flush with anger all day. Now that they had separated she could calm down.


    But she didn''t feel relieved. Only miserable, deflated.


    For some reason she felt like crying.


    <hr>


    "You will no longer allow displays on dark magic on the surface." The lich stated it as much as he asked.


    Scratch''s basement office was cramped with visitors, but he managed to spread out some visual aids. "Since the beginning we''ve disguised the dungeon opening as a peaceful community. Now we''re upgrading to lawful township, we have some more eyes on us. Constable Harkness now lives at the Promise, and he''s eager to find anything to disqualify us."


    "A royal territory on top of an active dungeon?" Noss asked.


    "It''s not unprecedented, cities have been built overtop mana engines before. Though not usually so... deliberately."


    "Unfortunately," Scratch said, "this does mean we can''t afford any more smoke plumes of death barreling down from the sky. It''s a bad look and it invites a lot of difficult questions."


    "You von''t be able to smuggle forbidden goods with zhe thieves guild either."


    "The traffic you see going in and out now is all our internal economy, goods to and from the colonies. For Eston there are warehouses in the favored territories, and we have the sea route... which I was about to suggest for you as well."


    "That won''t be necessary. Noss?"


    The vampire pulled out his own scroll and unfurled it over top Scratch''s visuals.


    "What''s this?"


    The image showed a complex circle pattern of sigils and numbers.


    "Every warping circle has a unique pattern to it. When a warp spell is cast, it attaches to any warping circle on the same plane and transports the user to that location."


    "You want a shortcut into my living room."


    "This circle will be for you to travel to my tower and back."


    "...aha." That prospect was even more disconcerting somehow.


    The lich turned towards the vampire. "Noss, you will be in charge of the construction. Have you selected a location?"


    "M-master, I have never created a varping circle before."


    "Once must be the first time."


    "I do," Scratch said, "want to designate a few things myself."


    "I see. If there are no objections..."


    <hr>


    Noss'' input for the warping circle was minimal.


    He oversaw the mosaic of magical crystal that made it possible, but the location and surroundings were Scratch''s design.


    The place received an isolated spot at the back of the cavern. A dome of enforced concrete and a heavy metal gate that would entrap unannounced visitors.


    Some straw en dirt on the outside dressed it up as a little mudhut.


    The whole projected oozed mistrust, but the vampire didn''t protest. He was in a depressive slump after his humiliation.


    "I''m sorry." He said.


    "What was that?" Scratch asked.


    "I''m sorry I vas zhat... forceful. I didn''t vant you to know how veak I really am."


    Scratch was already reigniting the stubby end of his blue grass cigar. "Is that the only reason?"


    "I vas dumped here. Ritter has decided zhat I am no use to him as a vassal, and left me vith zhe veakest creatures."


    He believes he''s telling the truth. Cyclophan said.


    "He didn''t tell you that." Scratch said gently.


    "So vhat if he didn''t? It''s zhe truth. I am a failure. Misshapen." The vampire didn''t look at him when he spoke. His eyes were unfocused into the far off distance, and his mind was turned intward to self-pity. "You don''t know Ritter, goblin, he condescends. I vas told I am her to ''make friends''."


    Scratch laughed, "that does seem unlikely."


    He''s telling the truth. And I don''t have any recollection of the lich lying to him.


    Don''t be idiotic, Scratch told Cyclophan mentally, what possible scheme could he have that would involve friendship? Plus, he would know we don''t actually like him and are only afraid of him.


    "I suppose he asked you to write him about your experiences. "Scratch asked.


    "Leave me be," the vampire whined, "let me be a failure by myself."


    He turned into a bat creature and flew off.


    Scratch watched him go, I was wondering when you were going to bring up the other shards.


    I didn''t know about the segments clustering together. The time of fracturing was a confusing time for all of us, we weren''t really aware of what was happening.


    It seems bizarre to me that shattering a person can result in tons of smaller people. Aren''t you stronger now? As a group? I mean each of you can have his own champion, right?


    Gods are different from people in many crucial ways. And no, we''re not stronger. Evil gods can starve, you know. The major gods can''t.


    "What?" Why not?


    I would disappear if deceit and trickery were to disappear from this plane. If truth and honesty would disappear, Benesant would be greatly weakened, but she would still have her aspects of light, self-lessness and bravery. And she would be able to reintroduce truth to the world.


    Scratch laughed, you don''t have to worry about that happening.


    You may think lies are eternal, but my enemies don''t. Only a few of us minor gods are truly immortal, including the lich''s master, Pinchin. He''s the god of death and undeath. As long as there''s life, there''ll be death. It makes sense that he would want to merge.


    You don''t?


    Weaker gods are deathly afraid of the merge. We''re afraid the stronger personalities will dominate and we''ll disappear. Only the most powerful like Kishin and Manshuu strive for it. Ritter knew that when he said it''s the ambition of "all kishin". He lied.


    Scratch nodded. Thank you for telling me, I''m happy we''re on the same page. This merging business is definitely bad news.


    So you won''t claim the other shards?


    Maybe not. Or... hmmm. He would probably just send someone else to do it.


    Claim them and defend them?


    We might just have to leak their existence somehow.


    <hr>


    He was still mulling it over in bed after sundown.


    But he was distracted by Lydia hugging him tighter than usual.


    "You alright?" He tried to wrestle an arm free, but she was too strong.


    "Is the display in place?" She asked.


    "Yeah, we''ve got the blacksmith in place in case they have questions about steel."


    "Good. We can''t let them win."


    "Yeah, good."


    "Good."


    The were silent for a while and she traced a finger over his chest, avoiding looking in his eyes.


    "Your dad seems like a real pain in the ass." Scratch said eventually.


    She laughed and the tension lifted.


    "I know. I never expected him to approve. Of all of this. But still..."


    "Still?"


    She loosed her grip a bit and a freed up a hand to brush her hair.


    "I wasn''t that old when I was exiled." She said. "And I suppose I had been spoiled up till then. So I didn''t really know how to take care of myself."


    "What do you mean?"


    "I mean general stuff. You know. Cooking for myself. Keeping my quarters clean. It was hard for me."


    She looked at him apprehensively, expecting him to judge or disdain her, but he didn''t, so she went on.


    "I would retreat into fantasy. I would always imagine that... I''d see my parents again. And things would be like they were before."


    "Do you still do that?"


    "No! Not for years. I haven''t for years..."


    Her eyes were tearing up now.


    "But today. It was like teen me popped up inside me. Saying ''daddy take me back'', ''daddy take care of me''. I''m sorry. I''m being stupid."


    "No," he wiped her tears with his thumb. "It''s not stupid to have emotions. Irrational things pop up inside all of us from time to time. Just remember that your emotions aren''t who you are, and that you will persist and they will pass. Right?"


    She grinned. "Right."


    "Come here." He hugged her back.


    "Hey Scratch."


    "Yeah?"


    "Can I call you daddy sometimes?"


    "Absolutely the fuck not."


    -


    They had almost fallen asleep in each other''s arms when a loud noise shook the house.


    "Glowings beasts!" A villager yelled out.


    "It''s the fairy creatures again." Scratch groaned, "let the dogs take care of it."


    But the noises of alarm continued.


    Lydia was already up. When she opened the window a mantis in the shape of a man hovered in front of it.


    <hr>


    Day Goblin


    Family: Abhuman


    Power Level: E to D


    On the east coast of Eston lives a tribe of abhumans with an appearance akin to that of goblins. Goblin slaying is forbidden in this region due to possible confusion between monster and abhuman.


    A day goblin can be recognized by the following features: Their skin, though sickly coloured, is mostly free of blemishes, scars and pustules. Their speech is coherent. And they tend to be dressed in skins and cloth.


    The tribe currently enjoys a recognized territorial status according to the Reddington crown, but is not given the privilige of citizenry. As such, day goblins do not have the right to freely travel across the realm and can not be found in adventuring guilds like other abhumans.


    Despite this, day goblins possess a few unique skills, such as the ability to talk to warg wolves, and the fearless trait, which they share with monstrous goblins and which makes them immune to spells and effects that cause fear.


    Handing in day goblin ears in order to receive goblin slaying rewards is illegal and will result in a fine and blacklisting from the adventurers'' guild.

 Entitled

    The power of the fairy queen was increasing every day.


    On normal years, Lacrima would employ adventurers to retrieve the feybloom, which held her budding magic.


    But Lacrima had been exiled, and the goblins'' plan to take over the task had fallen through.


    In the first month of autumn, a fairy attack force blitzed through the territory of the still standing colonies and attacked the Promise directly.


    The advance attack force consisted of 8 tall, bug-like fairy warriors that Lydia said were called mantis knights, two main fairy wasp swarms of about 30 members, and an oversized plant-like boar, sporting a flower petal mane and thorns all over its body.


    The attackers became separated at the wall of the town, where the mantis knights flew over and the boar was delayed.


    In a display of expert tactics, the wasps spread out and flushed the ruling family out of the house while the man-sized mantis knights began battering the entrance to the underground.


    Two were bashing at the lock, while the rest formed a semi-circle around them to prevent interference. Their insectoid blades at the ready.


    It created an awkward position with the constable, and the town guard stood around doing nothing, but Lacrima the witch was able to take command and diffuse the situation.


    "I shall fly to the back and close block the entrance," She said, "Scratch, a poison ent will be on its way to tear down your wall and houses. You must send your fastest hunting dogs."


    "And intercept it?"


    "No! In no way target it. They must go around and attack the witchwood directly."


    "Why? How do I attack a woods ''directly''?"


    "Just do it."


    She took on her owl form and flew upwards.


    Will threw Scratch the barking horn, but a contingent of wasps recognized it had to have some importance and swarmed to him.


    They were enveloped in a cloud of flame.


    Constable Harkness had saved him.


    "Lacrima is a criminal that has used control magic on fairies and children." The constable said, "I can''t overlook you harboring her."


    "Everybody here is an exile." Scratch said, then he blew the horn a few times to produce a serious of howls and barks.


    The wolves, who had been busy panicking, perked up their ears.


    Three wind wolves quickly reacted and sprinted towards the gate.


    In less than a heartbeat they had run up the wall and disappeared out of sight.


    -


    Not much later, the mantis knights shattered the lock on the ornate wooden door towards the basement layer.


    They rushed in, but were slowed down by the maze-like layout.


    In the front was a section that had once been a cooking stove, connected to the forge chimneys, that was now disguised as a small forge in order to not have to show the constable the cavern. A mantis knight kicked it, crumbling the metal underfoot.


    It seems that Lacrima''s message had arrived, because the layer was devoid of goblins. Only the mimics remained.


    The bandits and hobgoblins up top did not dare to follow after the fairy creatures, and instead finished the remaining beasts on the surface.


    There was a tension regarding what would happen next as the insectoids buzzed from the depths and the cowardly humanoids just stood around.


    "You understand that I cannot ignore what has happened here." The constable said. "If you are at war with the fairy queen. That should be taken into consideration by the court."


    Scratch gave him a wry smile. "Fine, you won. Go report it."


    But the man was still grave. "Fairies are considered to be on the side of good."


    "Look man," Scratch threw up his hands, "all I know is: they attack used first."


    "NOW!" The witch''s voice could be heard cackling from the dungeon. "Attack them."


    By the sound of it, they had found the entrance to the wolf den and had burst in all together.


    Lydia launched herself forward and dove in.


    The constable was about to do the same, but Scratch put his hand on his leg. "It''s not your fight, you don''t need to-"


    The man swatted him off, seriously bruising his arm, and followed after.


    The hobgoblins were already rushing after their mother.


    Only Scratch and Quiet were left outside.


    And Aimone was there. "Not my fight either," he said coolly.


    "Yes it is. Get in." Scratch demanded.


    -


    Inside the wolf den, the mantis knights had scattered.


    Gone was their strict coordination and tactics. Instead they spread out over the curved space, chasing birds and goblins.


    "They''re only threat level C while the queen has direct command." Lacrima said, "now''s your chance. Kill them. *Kill them*."


    The wolves inside the den were mostly puppies and caretakers and they slinked away to let the bipeds do the fighting.


    The Harknesses took on a mantis knight each. While the hobgoblins worked together to bring them down from a distance, using ropes and whips.


    The creatures were still in possession of untold strength and tore deep gashes in the rock face with their attacks. But they struck dumbly at whatever was in front of them and were easily caroled into the best spots.


    The gate to the elevator opened and Noss entered.


    He took one look at the battle and promptly died.


    The witch herself didn''t shy away from doing battle either. With outstretched hand she turned an enemy to stone, so it could be trivially smashed.


    "What is this place?" The constable demanded to know, as the threat quickly petered out.


    "It''s... just the basement." Constantine said.


    "Just the- This is your den. Isn''t witch?" He pointed an accusatory finger at Lacrima. "You are known to have meddled with the fairies. You must have something to do with this attack. How else did they become so docile all of a sudden?"


    A year earlier Lacrima would have effortlessly sprung into the role of innocent grandmother to rebuff him. But her reputation was already what it was, and there was no use pretending anymore.


    She snarled like a hag. "They were made docile, Eugene, because the fairy queen''s attention was diverted. Scratch- ah, there you are."


    Scratch had followed after the group and arrived just as the last bug had its head crushed by the troll.


    "Scratch has send wind wolves to the witchwood." Lacrima continued, "just as I commanded. It diverted the queen''s attention and she was no longer able to coordinate the attack. This town is under my *protection*."


    "The queen was commanding them? What did they have an earpiece?" Scratch asked.


    "Earpiece?" The witch''s attention was now on the goblin, "all fairies are controlled directly by the queen''s magical pheromones. They''re mindless beasts without her."


    But the constable wasn''t so easily ignored, he grabbed her by the wrist.


    "Hey. Whoa!" Lydia held her weapon unsheathed but half-raised, unsure about threatening him.


    "The Promise can''t gain legitimacy *and* harbor this dark sorceress. I''m taking you in."


    Lacrima''s magic flared dangerously. "Dark sorceress?! I am still devoted to the moon goddess thank you very much!" She raised her voice but she was still calm. "And you''ve got it reversed little man. It is I that really runs this town. Without Lacrima, there can be no Promise. You want this peace? You must take me with it!"


    He gnashed his teeth and let go. Relenting more to the overwhelming force surrounding him than the argument.


    "The count will hear of this." He said, as he stomped out.


    Scratch gave him a fake smile as he came by. "Be sure to tell him about the peaceful garden and thriving economy."


    His face was a great deal more sour looking at Lacrima. "Was that necessary?"


    She smiled softly, "better he knows about me than the Ravenous Lich, isn''t it?"


    Scratch nearly gave himself whiplash seeing if the constable had heard that and then looking back to give her a hateful stare.


    But she was defiant. "You are still tasked with the defeat of the fairy queen," she said with a remember-who''s-boss attitude. "It''s best you ride out now and stop the ent from reaching this place."


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    <hr>


    The absolute diplomatic catastrophe of the fairy attack led to the elder Harkness jumping on his horse the first chance he got and riding out to bring report to count Rhysian.


    But he hadn''t accounted for the poison ent trudging its way over the main trail.


    It blended in so naturally with the forest that he didn''t notice it until it was right upon him. And it was big.


    A horrifying visage of anybody averse to holes, it sported a rash of seed pots for a bulbous head and long vines of snapping maws draped underneath.


    The knight steered away so quickly he fell of his horse. And the animal, which was spooked by the monstrous plant, ran away from him.


    The constable screamed and threw up his arms.


    But the poison ent kept trudging along.


    "Ah. Doesn''t attack people." He said to himself, "should''ve known." Glad to know nobody was there to have seen him embarrass himself.


    "INFERNO!"


    Suddenly the poison end was engulfed by a spiral of flame.


    The whole world was bathed in orange light for a moment and his eyes dried out from the heat.


    Once the spell had ended, nothing was left of the monster but charcoal.


    "Harkness, you old badger." Count Rhysian said, "I heard you cry out for help, so I figured I''d lend you a hand."


    Constable Harkness closed his eyes with a pained expression.


    -


    The count and his entourage were on their way to the Promise and he was not interested in pausing to hear a report, so the constable had to run beside him and quickly summarize his findings.


    "Well within expectations," the count said dismissively, "we knew the goblins were harboring bandits. Or- day goblins I should say. It''s funny..." he laughed to himself, with no expectation that the knight would share his amusement, "goblins have always wielded the detritus of civilization. I suppose they simply extended that to discarded people as well."


    "Sir. You can''t seriously consider pardoning figures such as-"


    "Know your place, sir knight." The count said sternly, "the realm is not here to restore your family''s honor. If there is to be a peace, there has to be compromise, you should have foreseen this outcome... Besides, it''s not me who has the authority to grant titles."


    He gestured with his chin to a young woman riding several yards ahead.


    She was a blonde, dressed more like an adventurer than a noble, sporting a rune engraved sword and a duelist''s uniform with capelet.


    "Who-?"


    "The duke''s only daughter, Beatrice of Dichtershire. She is normally reticent to take up the calling of her blood, but she has taken a personal interest for some reason."


    The constable slowed down, staring at the back of her head. The noblewoman''s drill-like bangs bobbed up and down from the horse''s trodding.


    She seemed melancholic, wistful even, she-


    -


    [Not much longer your ladyship.]  The count says.


    This boring. But I shouldn''t complain since I''ve already found Hayato again in Eston, and now the Warrens might have a new otherworlder as well.


    I mean, paper money? It could be a coincidence but... ''this person is definitely from Japan'' is what I''m thinking.


    ...


    This trip is really boring though.


    I was told there were lots of goblin nests, but so far I''ve just seen a lot of ruins.


    Oh wait, what''s that?


    They have a big wall! And there''s goblins on top of it. Cute!


    [This is just the outer perimeter of the Promise.] The constable says. [There is a few hours more travel from here. Can I have a lift? My horse ran off.]


    Inside the outer perimeter it''s like a little countryside.


    They have their own farm plots and huts, and there are lots of wolves and goblins playing together.


    [Make sure not to kill anything,] the count says, [we wouldn''t want to start an incident when we are here to underwrite a peace.]


    Why would I want to kill anything?


    Anyway, eventually we get to the goblin leader''s palace.


    There''s a portcullis and a large bailey, filled with activity.


    Maybe I''ll get to see Alpheba again.


    I know she''s done a lot of bad stuff and can''t be forgiven, but...


    I hope she''s happy.


    <hr>


    As soon as Alpheba saw Beatrice enter the town gate she pointed her out to Scratch. "That''s her. That''s the hero my master mentioned."


    "Is she going to be a problem?" He asked.


    "She''s rank A in the adventurer''s guild. So if she is, there''s nothing you could do about it."


    "Vhat I''ve seen of zhis town even zhe bodyguards could conquer it, if zhey vere a little tactical about it," the vampire whispered, uninvited.


    "This would display tactics, but lack strategy." Youthere said. "Toppling the Promise will throw its controlled area into chaos once again, and the count will lose the support of the peasantry, ultimately to no gain."


    The huddle was getting crowded now.


    Noss leaned over Scratch to address the witch''s werewolf apprentice. "How is Lacrima able to foresee zhe arrival of such characters?"


    "You''ve seen the blood samples in the witch house. Over the years I have collected the blood of many adventurers for her, and sympathetic magic allows us to discern their location or curse them."


    Just then, Second leaned in to talk to Scratch. "Is this the boss of all humans? There are trolls hidden in these side buildings. Just say the special command and we''ll attack them."


    "Sympathetic magic?" Noss asked Alpheba. "I''ve heard about it, I would like to study it for my dark sorcery."


    Youthere giggled. "I appreciate your dedication to eternal warfare little goblin. But we have wider ambitions. A dark peace will allow the arms of intrigue to spread over-"


    "That is quite enough!" Scratch said, "is this a football huddle? Disperse. Disperse."


    They did as he said and he straightened his jacket, just in time to greet the count and his entourage.


    "The special command is ''ambush'', ''ambush!''." Second said as he ran off.


    A troll opened the door at hearing the command, but quickly closed it upon seeing it was a false alarm.


    The count eyed his surroundings and sighed. "I''ll skip the pleasantries and get straight to business. We''re all tired of the journey."


    The blonde adventuress smiled at Scratch. It was a warm smile, but kind of vacant. She didn''t really know what was going on.


    The count unrolled a scroll. "By the authority of Dichtershire and in the name of the king, you hereby receive judgment for your crimes."


    The woman unsheathed her sword in a short fluid motion, and the sharp sat immediately against Scratch''s neck.


    "Please remain still." She smiled.


    Scratch was frozen, the goblins reached for their weapons, but the human bandits did not seem alarmed.


    "You are pardoned and instated as a citizen of Reddington. You may now own property and call upon law to protect you."


    The blade moved over his head to his other shoulder, there were magical runes in the blade that slightly hummed as it whisked through the air.


    "Furthermore, the realm grants you the title of Baronet, to steward these lands, from river to coast, and protect against the forces of evil. Please stand up."


    Scratch exhaled as the sword was removed from his vicinity. Although he suffered from a muted fear response, the humming of the blade somehow still made him wince. He knew instinctively that it could cut clean through him at the flick of a wrist.


    "There," said the count, "that''s over with. When should we head back?"


    -


    However, they ended up staying for two days, clearing up the many questions the family had about the arrangement and titles as a concept.


    "But what is a Baronet?" Scratch asked.


    "In the past. Whenever the higher nobility saw it necessary to grant land to a knight." Lydia said, "they would grant them the title of Baronet. It''s still below a Baron. But your land is called a barony."


    "That''s right," the Count said, "titles are a pedigree of bloodline as well as status. Your bloodline is as low as it gets, so you cannot be named a Baron, even though your land will actually be quite extensive."


    "But as I understand. Nobody else has gained citizenship."


    "You will still be able to keep a retinue of courtiers with you as you travel outside your territory," the count quickly countered, "as long as they stick with you. But yes, only Scratch is a citizen. This is the compromise the Duke has proposed."


    Scratch scratch his chin, "effectively there''s a bounty on every single person that lives here. I would hardly call that peace."


    "I''m sure the law," the count glanced sharply at the constable, "is willing to turn a blind eye to people in your employ. As long as you control them. This was actually the deciding factor in the duke''s decision." He held up a bill of paper money with Scratch''s face on it. "As long as you do not let your bandits own real gold, we have faith that you can keep them in line."


    The constable spoke up. "These tokens have-"


    "Shut up." The count said, "anyway. Naturally, the tax burden will be lighter with only one citizen."


    Scratch looked over the numbers, "this is still quite considerable."


    "Enough to continue the war?"


    "...I suppose not."


    "Then I welcome you to your new home country," he stuck out his arm and shook his hand, "Baronet the Promise."


    -


    Beatrice Dichtershire hadn''t been at the meeting.


    Apparently her role was simply to rubber stamp the promotion by being present and having the right bloodline.


    While the count and the constable had been arguing, she had chased down Alpheba and Cobaline to force them to hang out with her.


    But when the government party was about to leave, she suddenly had something to discuss with Scratch and held them up by another day.


    By the time they were finally gone, the vampire had completed major infrastructure revisions underground without Scratch''s supervision.


    <hr>


    "Here it is. Zhe sanctum."


    "You removed the elevator."


    "Of course, zhe sanctum needs sealed valls after all. And it vas a rather simple trap. Let me show you how zhe magic works."


    "You removed the elevator. Noss, we *use* it. We''re always moving metal and rock up and down, how- Second, why didn''t you stop him?"


    "Stop him? I can stop him?"


    "Of course. It''s *your* elevator, isn''t it?"


    The folding wooden screen that previously led to a small moving box, now led to a gray oval room.


    The surrounding shell was domed concrete, held in place with red bring and metal struts.


    The interior was lined with a mosaic of uneven slate shards, and the bottom filled in to create a smooth flat floor.


    In the middle of the room a circle indented the floor slightly, and a glowing red gem was suspended by several metal wires and a copper ring directly above it.


    The exit, was a shaft leading downwards at the far end.


    "Zhe shape of zhe room ensures zhat zhe energies vill flow around zhe outside and coalesces to flow down and out in zhe middle. Zhis way zhe altar receives a strong and consisted pressure." Noss explained proudly, he had forgotten his gloominess now that he had a chance to talk about his expertise. "Zhis way, transformation magic can be permanently-"


    "No but I really didn''t sign off on this." Scratch fretted, "is this how we get down? I can''t even see where it leads to. Install a staircase at least."


    "I can do that." Second said.


    Noss tapped his feet. "Zhis is a dungeon, is it not? It is not supposed to be safe, it is supposed to deter invaders."


    "This is a central transportation corridor," Scratch said, "I don''t know how this thing is held up, but I need it to bear heavy loads, and I need it to open up for large cargo to move through."


    "...You want me to break it all open?" Noss said in distress.


    "Yeah man, I never even told you to make it like this in the first place. It needs to be safe for goblins."


    The vampire''s eyes darkened. "Ask your kishin, Cyclophan, how he vould wan-"


    "Yeah I don''t care man."


    He grumbled, "vouldn''t have if I had my bloodrise..."


    -


    The outside of the sanctum didn''t make Scratch any happier.


    The shaft dropped down on a suspended wooden platform high up in the cavern.


    There were a series of walkways and floating walls suspended by chains from the ceiling, in order to guide the magic down into a spiral.


    The egg they had just come out of was embedded into the ceiling, but mostly exposed and resting precariously on what remained of the elevator shaft.


    "Second, can we get some support pillars here?"


    Second thought about it for a moment. "If we have enough iron for another cable, hang it from here and candle it with the concrete."


    "Good, and the elevator can come through the middle."


    Noss sputtered, "you do realize zhat vhen the floor is no longer smooth, the sanctum''s spell vill stop vorking until it is. Your lift vill need to stop at exactly zhe right place to reactivate it."


    "Well?" Scratch asked Second, "are you up for the task?"


    Second balled his fist, eager to get into good graces again, "I will try."


    "Good enough for me."


    Noss pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. But if must involve yourselves vith dungeon magic, you should at least know zhe basics. I shall write to my master, I''m sure he vill agree to let me show you some examples."


    "Examples? What do you mean?"


    "You have a teleportation circle now. So ve vill be able to return here. I vill take you to zhe yellow wastes."


    <hr>


    [If your ladyship is ready...]


    Rhysian is impatient~.


    I can probably explain why I wanted a personal audience with the Baronet.


    ''Oh, I just wanted to test his loyalty to my father.''


    Something like that.


    Scratch isn''t loyal to Dichtershire at all, but that doesn''t matter. He is one of us.


    It''s strange that he isn''t Japanese. But when you think about it, we don''t really come from the world of Japan. We come from the country of Japan, and the world is Earth.


    As we exit the little town a trio of wind wolves slink in. They sure move slow for wind wolves.


    Maybe they''re really tired? They look like they''ve been fighting thorny plant monsters.


    I wonder how many other foreigners were reincarnated by that strange god...


    If there are more, then we must do more than just leave Japanese signs for otherworlders. Maybe we will have to reveal our identities to our families.


    ...


    Oh what am I saying. The others would hate that!


    ''Yes mother, I, the child you''ve been holding to your chest, am actually a 40-year old otaku NEET. Hey where are you going, don''t leave~''


    No way!


    But we''ll need all the help we can get...


    If we want to take on the Liege.


    Eep!


    Did I really call him ''the Liege'' in my head?


    He doesn''t deserve such a cool name!


    Be proper about it Sato, his name is [Kato Ken].


    And he wants to destroy the world.


    <hr>


    The Promise


    Faction: Reddington


    Size: F


    Level: F


    The Promise is an abhuman habitat for day goblins. It is controlled by a day goblin Baronet and is home to several exiles. The exiles of the Promise and surrounding area have chosen to live peaceful lives, rather than rely on banditry, and are under the ward of the Baronet.


    The Promise is self-sufficient, maintaining farmlands and minor industry. There are no adventuring facilities in this territory, and adventurers are discouraged from trading while there.


    Additionally, as the Promise is an abhuman habitat, adventurers are not allowed to indiscriminately attack any monster they see.

 The Whereabouts of Heroes

    "In my previous life, Beatrice Dichtershire was a dating sim character." Beatrice said while sipping her tea.


    Scratch raised an eyebrow. "What?"


    "There was this game that I loved... Romance of the Four Kingdoms it was called. You would play as a peasant girl allowed into a prestigious academy. Beatrice Dichtershire was the fiancee of one of the capture targets."


    "Capture targets... we''re talking about a video game here."


    She nodded, "mhm. A dating sim."


    "And you liked this character so much you decided to take on her name."


    "No." She stood up to face the window, but there weren''t any in the basement layer, so she stared silently at a row of candles in an alcove. "The thing is, when I regained the memories from my previous life I was in the world of my favorite game. In the body of the villainess character." She looked at her balled fist. "I swore that I wouldn''t let the events of the game happen to me, so I broke off the engagement and became an adventurer..."


    Scratch leaned in, "that makes sense actually."


    Beatrice turned around, "it does?"


    "Nothing about this place is authentic, everything is some surface level imitation of the real world. The earth, the creatures, the political systems. None of this came about naturally, it''s engineered. Some organization sinking in the resources to recreate your video game is as good an explanation as I can think of."


    She nodded. "Only it isn''t just ''Romance of the Four Kingdoms''. It''s ''Four Realms'' and ''Path of the Primal Lotus''. Every Second Chancer I''ve met has played a game or read a manga that showed his current lift before he reincarnated. What about you?"


    "I- Hmm."


    She pointed at herself. "I won''t accept my Destiny as the Villainous Duke''s-Daughter.'' That is the light novel showing my life. A friend of mine was reincarnated after reading that novel, not Beatrice Dichtershire, me! It tells the story of my reincarnation."


    After the many wondrous and impossible things Scratch had seen in this new world, he had resolved never to be surprised again. That any feat of magic and impossible biology would be taken in stride.


    But now, he was speechless.


    "I... uh. Wow, what?"


    Beatrice took note of how her words had finally pierced his aloof exterior. "It''s the truth," she said. "Every new second chancer has read a new version of events in the four kingdoms. Before I was reincarnated, Beatrice Dichtershire would have been disinherited as an immoral woman at the magic academy. And before my friend was reincarnated, I would have died as an adventurer fighting the dragon king Balreus. But I didn''t. By reincarnating, we''re changing the future of this world... That''s why I need to know, what was the version of events you saw in your previous life?"


    "I''m not really a fantasy fan," Scratch said apologetically, "more into true crime, really."


    She gave a little frustrated sound. "The most recent version of events we have is from ''The Reaper of Darkness Never Wants to Die Again''. In that story, ''Kato Ken'' is reincarnated alongside his entire class. He kills them all end ends up destroying the world."


    "That''s... worrying."


    "It is. Tell me, what did that god tell you?"


    "God?"


    "The strange dark god that has no temples or statues in this world. Every second chancer so far has met him."


    Scratch weighed up whether he should tell the truth. "Nothing useful." He decided to say.


    She nodded understandingly.


    -


    Before leaving, Beatrice told him about Laurus, the Nightshade Hero.


    "Every hero in history of this world was a second chancer, Hayato was reincarnated just after me. We think his story is the RPG ''Four Kingdoms'', but that game never explains that the protagonist is reincarnated. He is just here to visit the village he grew up in. You should try to get along with him, since he''s also a second chancer. He''s really powerful you know."


    "Can I have a list of these... reincarnators somehow?"


    "I will arrange for it."


    When in the doorway on her way out, she suddenly turned around and bowed deeply. "Please! Do not judge us too harshly."


    Scratch jumped back. "W-what?"


    "You are the first foreigner among the second chancers. I wanted to say... please do not think too lowly of our people from what you see among second chancers. You must understand... most of us are unemployed shut-ins. We are not representative of the Japanese population."


    "Alright, alright." Scratch laughed jovially, "I won''t, don''t worry. I''m not a judgmental person, I promise."


    <hr>


    "Goddammit. Two nukes weren''t enough!"


    Scratch cursed and flailed and began to rinse his mouth above the gravel.


    He and his advisers were in the middle of an arid hamlet in the middle of nowhere.


    The local cuisine didn''t agree with him.


    "Oh my," Youthere purred as he joined them, "what darkness has transpired here?"


    "I ordered him zhe omurice. Told him how it''s a recipe left to us by a hero from another world. I zhink he didn''t like it." Noss said.


    "Who the hell puts ketchup on an omelet?" Scratch spat onto the ground. "That culture is evil. Evil, man!"


    Youthere chuckled. "Master, I assure you it takes more than sugar in a savory dish to achieve the abyssal depth of evil. In fact, rice based dishes such as these are very popular with the high nobility."


    "Is that so?" Scratch sighed.


    "Oh yes, a delicacy."


    "Enough of zhis." Noss tossed some coppers on the table to pay the proprietor. "I''ve brought you here to see zhe Maze of Millene. Ve still have a few miles to walk."


    "You boys shouldn''t be visiting the dungeon after dark," the old owner said, "it''s not a playground you know."


    "Huh? You want a taste of my bloodrise form, do you?" Noss said threateningly.


    The old man recoiled and Scratch grabbed his vampire helper by the chin. "We went through all that trouble putting me in this elaborate disguise, and you start talking about bloodrise forms? What d''you take me for, an idiot?"


    "Argh." He pushed him off, "he''s disrespecting me."


    "Yeah? Get used to it."


    Scratch dug into the depths of his full body coat and retrieved a gold coin.


    He grabbed the old man''s hand and put it in. "Nobody needs to know we were here."


    "Or else." The vampire added.


    As they left the owner clutched the prize in his fist.


    ''Nobody needs to know''? Why would he even tell? What would he tell them?


    Easy money though. Although it was below average for a tip.


    -


    The Maze of Millene was situated underground.


    The opening was a large winding staircase around the edge of a deep black pit, of which the bottom wasn''t visible on a clear day, and whose width was more than most bridges were long.


    To Noss'' surprise, there was an adventurers'' camp encircling it.


    "I vas here only ten years ago. Zhere was no township here then." He murmured.


    Scratch felt that calling it a township was a bit generous.


    Although it was a semi-permanent community like a bandit camp, it didn''t have any stealth or defense measures in place like a bandit camp.


    There were no barricades and the night was opulently lit by their many sources of light.


    The place was simply a collection of tents adventuring parties and healers for hire had set up to properly prepare before expeditions.


    So there was no guard outside.


    But making their way towards the dungeon entrance the boys were stopped by a permanent resident anyhow.


    "Hey. You kids can''t come here. This is a level B dungeon." A burly man wielding a giant mallet grunted at them.


    "Huh? You got a problem vith me?" Noss threatened, "you vant a taste of my bloo-"


    This time it was Youthere grabbing him by the chin in Scratch''s stead.


    Scratch sighed and took out his purse. "So how much do you need to let us through? Two gold? Three?"


    "Huh?" The adventurer snarled, having taken offense.


    "You are so right sir," Youthere pouted, still holding Noss'' chin. "What are three soft young boys such as ourselves to do against the Maze of


    Millene, which took our beloved mother and our inheritance? We would feel so much safer if we had a big, strong man such as yourself to escort us."


    The man straightened his back, but cut right past the flattery. "You''re looking for an inheritance?"


    "Oh yes, sir. An enchanted dwarven cuirass worth sixty thousand gold. Our dearest mother took it with her to conquer the maze. I''m afraid the family fortune is completely tied up in it. Sir- if I may ask your name?"


    "Y-yeah. Rufus."


    "Oh mister Rufus," he grabbed the man''s hand, "will you not help us retrieve our mother''s treasure? For an equal share of the resale."


    "An equal share? A fourth of sixty thousand?"


    "Yes Rufus. Will you?"


    "Yes. Hang on. Wait here while I get my stuff. Don''t talk to anybody else."


    He quickly hurried off to grab his other equipment.


    "Rather gullible." Scratch murmured.


    "So?" Noss asked. "Do ve continue zhen?"


    "No, let him escort us. We don''t want to be stopped by anyone else. Plus, it''s good to have a body around." He turned to Youthere. "So you can be diplomatic."


    The demon beamed. "Of course master! As long as I have the sins of greed and pride to work off of. Though naturally, my expertise is lust." He struck a little pose, showing off a body that only a person with highly unconventional tastes could feel lust towards.


    -


    Not much later they were lead down the spiral by Rufus.


    "Hey Rufus, where''s your party?" A spear man at the entrance asked.


    "On a solo quest right now. Escorting these boys." He said.


    The spiral staircase led down a long way, and it was becoming progressively darker, but Rufus had a magical belt that emanated a stark white light.


    It projected their shadows onto the stair as inky blotches of blackness, and exposed the occasional missing step.


    Eventually they reached the bottom of the stairwell, the night''s sky now a tiny circle far above.


    "You know where the cuirass is?" Rufus asked.


    Before them were two gates shaped like mouths led to different parts of the maze.


    The colour of the stone was washed out in the belt''s clinical white light, but they could make out their shape. The walls consisted of man-high cyclopean bricks.


    "Zhere are zhree levels to zhe maze." Noss said.


    "Mother is said to have died on the second, Rufus." Youthere said.


    Rufus sighed, the second level was where the dungeon earned its threat ranking. "In that case we should stop by the underground camp." He chose the left mouth.


    -


    The maze followed a grid layout. Every turn was at a 90 degree angle and evenly spaced, so that the passageways could fit three people walking next to each other. The ceiling was impossibly high, five stories at least, giving the place a vertical character.


    "It seems zhe layout of zhe maze is vell documented," Noss said, in reference to Rufus'' brisk pace. "Ve call zhis a ''tamed layer''. You might see some animalistic monsters around, fed by zhe magical energies. But zhere are no minions of zhe dungeon master here. She can not build new zhings here, or station guards or vorkmen. Zhe adventurers simply control zhe territory."


    Unexpectedly, a spider the size of a large dog dropped down from high up on the wall.


    It had the appearance and thin legs of a black widow and landed right in front of Rufus.


    He crushed it in one his with his hammer.


    The body immediately released a flood of tiny arachnids, but he had foreseen that and summoned a ring of elemental poison around his hammer swing upon impact, killing them.


    "If the adventurers control this layer, why haven''t they knocked down the walls for a straight path yet?" Scratch asked unperturbed.


    "Zhat is a good question." Noss nodded. "Zhey may have in places, but a vell designed dungeon forces even zhe adventurers to respect its flow.


    Vhen magical streams are zhrown off-course and collide vith each other, zhey may cause swirling rifts of magic, or unpredictable effects."


    Rufus'' face twitched slightly, catching fragments of the conversation behind him. It seemed ominous that they were discussing the dungeon so academically when they were supposed to be orphan boys looking for their inheritance. But his doubts were soon crowded out by thoughts of what he would do with fifteen thousand gold pieces.


    -


    Not too long after encountering the spider, they came upon a chasm with spikes.


    A wooden beam lay across it, providing access to the other side, more than thirty paces for a fully grown man.


    "Ah, an example of a tamed trap. You see zhe seems in zhe lower wall? Zhis use to be a pit trap, but zhe adventurers have disabled zhe sanctum crystal, so zhat zhe floor is permanently retracted and zhe spikes visible."


    "We can''t proceed unless you cross this chasm," Rufus said, "but if you tell me the exact place your mother''s party saw her die I can retrieve it for you and you can stay here."


    "I suppose we have no choice but to brave the beam then." Scratch said with a lazily faked trepidation.


    The beam was more than wide enough for him to put his feet next to each other. And without a fear response, balancing on it was as easy as balancing on a beam laid on the ground.


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    "It was a scheme to claim the treasure for himself," Youthere said as they walked together on the beam, Rufus too far back to hear the whispers.


    "I was wondering why we weren''t following the central stem. How wonderfully devious."


    "It''s only to be expected," Scratch said, "as far as he knows there''s forty thousand bucks up for grabs. He has no ties to us. He''d have to be insane not to try to betray us... what do you mean with a central stem?"


    When they reached the other end and grouped up again, Noss could reveal that his superior senses had picked up on their conversation.


    "A central stem is a vay to refer to zhe strongest path of magical energies in a dungeon. Vhen a flow has been established from zhe outside to zhe core, it vill form a continuous line of magical current, from one end to zhe other. Dungeon path finding spells expose zhis current, and zhe


    Escape spell transforms zhe user into a ball of light zhat travels backvards zhrough it. But vhen a dungeon uses zhe maze layout, zhe current can split. Ve call zhe shortest and strongest path zhe stem, zhe others are branches."


    "Yeah, we took a slight detour... to avoid facing more dangerous monsters." Rufus said.


    "That''s nice." Scratch said to humor him.


    -


    At the end of the tamed layer there was another adventurer camp.


    Rufus secretly gave a sigh of relief seeing not many people were there for the boys to tattle to.


    The entrance to the second layer was a sealed off room, sporting alcoves with feathery cushions and a pit trap that had been taken apart.


    Thick rope nets hung into the hole in the ground, for adventurers to climb down towards the second layer.


    "Hhm, a disturbance in the intended architecture..." Noss pondered. "They have indeed created a shortcut. This will engender more aggression from monsters in the main stem in the long run."


    Rufus ignored their talk. He turned to the only other adventurer there, a thin man with a large brimmed hat sat on one of the cushions. He had an abacus-like instrument in front of him. Ten strings vertically strung in a wooden frame with glowing and inert beads suspended within them. Some of the beads moved ever so slightly by their own.


    "Umbra." He said.


    "...Rufus..." The thin man said with a pained rasp. "I have foreseen your arrival, but not of your comrades."


    "It''s a solo mission this time. I''m escorting these boys to find their mother''s... body."


    "And will... these boys be leaving... a blood mark?"


    "Eh... no. If we die they die next to me, so it''s all fine you''ll be able to find us."


    "I don''t need to remind you, the price is the same for all participants."


    "You don''t."


    "What''s this about dying?" Scratch asked.


    "If we die, Umbra will be able to retrieve us and heal us." Rufus explained.


    "If you come close to dying." Umbra said. "My witch harp shows the location of individuals whose blood I''ve stored." He pointed at the beads.


    "Ah," Scratch put his finger to the side of his nose, though it wasn''t so clear with his disguise, "sympathetic magic."


    "Indeed. Rufus, you said these were boys?"


    "Boy, Rufus." Youthere said, "that sure is special. Can he help us find mother''s treasure?"


    "Uh, I don''t think so." Rufus quickly ushered them towards the hole, not eager to let others hear of his prize "let''s not waste any more time, huh?"


    "The manwitch is too observant." Youthere whispered into Scratch''s ear, "it is best we separate from him before our dear friend gets, as you would say, ''a clue''."


    -


    The nets deposited them neatly onto damp soil in a dark open area.


    "Zhe previous layer was already far underground," Noss said, "into zhe depths of the undervorld. But now we''ve plunged into even zhe lowest of zhe low, touching zhe abyss."


    "Oh, I can feel it." Youthere giggled. "The reality of the surface world is breaking down, this is the home of demons."


    "Stop it. Stop talking." Rufus cursed. "I''ve been here many times, okay? There''s no demons here."


    Youthere smiled.


    "Just... point me in the direction of your mother okay?"


    Noss held up his arm, and circles of magic appeared around him. Soon, a glowing line appeared in the air, leading from the hole they come from into the darkness. "Zhat is zhe direction of zhe core. It''s vhere she must have gone."


    "Stop." Rufus said. "How do you know an advanced spell like that?"


    "Stop?" Scratch asked. "We didn''t want to waste any more time, did we?"


    "Let''s not stop now, Rufus," Youthere licked his lips. "The sixty thousand gold are tantalizingly close by."


    "Now is not the time to turn back." Scratch said.


    "Now is not the time to turn back." Youthere echoed.


    "Well... let''s make this quick so we can grab the cuirass and leave. But after that I have some questions for you."


    -


    The guiding light led them into a maze of mirrors.


    Reflective shards of glass sticking out of the ground in a seemingly random pattern, forming branching footpaths between them. They were bunched together so tightly, that the openings between shards looked like shards themselves.


    The shardss would have given them the runaround if it hadn''t been for their guide, there were reflecting and non-reflecting ones. What seemed like openings could be glass and what seemed like mirrors could be openings.


    "Easy to vandalize." Scratch commented. "Bring a bucket of paint, no more mirrors."


    "Zhese are magical mirrors, obviously." Noss said.


    "Right. Obviously. A sanctum?"


    "Nay, too big. A sanctum is a focused stream. Zhese are monsters."


    Scratch stopped in his tracks. "The mirrors are monsters?"


    "Doppelgangers. Zhey''re animated reflections."


    "Don''t lag behind." Rufus said over his shoulder, "and don''t go near the glass. You''ll be snatched up."


    Scratch''s reflection held its finger to its lips before returning to a perfect mirror.


    "We are, of course, invited guests. Zhey von''t harm us." Noss whispered.


    Eventually the light ended in a swirling scribble. In the middle of an empty section.


    "Huh?" Rufus asked, "is this the end?"


    "It isn''t, zhe stream has been cut off." Noss said, he turned to Scratch. "Zhis is zhe most important zhing zhat I vanted to show you. Vhat happens vhen a room is locked."


    Rufus was walking back but found that the entrance had turned into a mirror.


    "Eyes in front mister adventurer." Noss said. "You have an opponent."


    Rising from the black earth came a gaunt black lizard, tattered and useless wings hanging from its back.


    It was the size of a two story building, pushed up and outward by coiling dirt.


    A deathly screech erupted from its gullet.


    The guiding light had dissipated now and only Rufus'' light giving belt revealed its front.


    "Cave dragons are blind." Noss explained, "they were evolved from worms in the dirt. If they have any chance of defeating an adventurer, he must be prevented from leaving. So invaders are locked in vith zhe monster."


    "So the stem is redirected then." Scratch said.


    "It is blocked off." Noss said. "Zhe core vould lose its power if it vere not for zhe pull of zhe dragon''s divinity."


    Rufus quickly downed a potion and charged at the dragon. At this point he was moving too much for the belt to give a comprehensive view of the battle.


    "The dragon? That thing? It''s divine?"


    "All things are divine in their small way master. Divinity is nothing more than a measure of power, or potential power." Youthere said. "In fact, it is the incubus'' privilege to-"


    "Zhe strength of zhe monster guides zhe flow of magic, so zhat zhe dungeon maintains a zhin trickle of magic. It is zhe same phenomenon zhat makes us place zhe stronger monsters closer to zhe core. But it cannot be maintained forever, and if zhe monster is defeated..."


    Rufus landed a lucky hit and smashed the megadrile''s head against the glass. Killing it.


    "...zhe room must open up again, and let zhe adventurer zhrough."


    A wall at the far end began to sink into the ground, swallowed up by rolling soil, and so was the dragon.


    Rufus sunk to one knee, panting.


    "In that case, what''s the point? All you''re doing is forcing people to fight your guard, when they might have fled." Scratch said.


    "Zheir fleeing is not equivalent to our victory in zhis situation." Noss said, zhey might come back in stronger numbers, or attack your monster from a distance. And even a defeat can be beneficial, if you can sap zhe strength of an invader."


    "Give me a moment..." Rufus gasped, but the three were already walking ahead.


    -


    The mirror maze ended in another stone gate, shaped like a mouth.


    It led downward.


    "I''ve never been out this far..." Rufus said.


    "Then what use are you as a guide?" Scratch asked.


    The rude comment filled them man with a shot of adrenaline and he stepped ahead. "If we don''t find the cuirass within twenty minutes, we''re turning back," he said, to regain a sense of control.


    As they descended down the ancient steps, tiny specks of light began to float through the darkness. They looked like the stars one sees after spinning too fast.


    They were formless demons like the ones Scratch had negotiated with before summoning Youthere, and they were whispering seductive thoughts inaudibly softly.


    "Now zhis staircase is a sanctum." Noss said. "Zhough you vill not be able to see zhe crystal, it is vell hidden."


    "What''s the eff-"


    "Zhe effect is a curse. Or an unending stream of curses, really. Cast into nothing until one finds a host. Look."


    Rufus'' pace was slowing, he began to stoop over and leaned his arm against the wall while walking.


    "Having used most of his stamina in zhe fight, he is now more vulnerable to zhe curse of aging."


    The man''s burly figure had thinned out and his skin was hanging loosely over his face. His hair had gone stark white.


    "Why aren''t we affected?" Scratch asked.


    "Well zhe demon is timeless. I am too powerful. As for you... I suppose you must not have any mana for a curse to feed off of. Zhat is an interesting vay to gain immunity."


    "...And you knew that beforehand, right?"


    "..."


    "Noss. You knew I wouldn''t be killed, right?"


    Noss said nothing, and they arrived at the bottom of the stairs.


    They had left the layer of black soil above them, and were now standing on a stone bridge over infinite blackness.


    The lights were legion now, swirling around them like curious fish.


    Rufus sank to his knees. "Cursed... I''ve been cursed. Must... lift... curse."


    "Easy now Rufus." Youthere took him by the hand and led him onwards.


    Less than lucid, the man let himself be taken along.


    Noss muttered some spell and they were lit up by the flickering light of half a dozen floating orbs.


    "This must be the abyss." Scratch not so much asked as stated.


    "Zhat''s right. Zhis core has long since found its culmination and linked the overvorld to zhe abyss. Underneath us is nothing but endless emptiness until hell."


    "Then what are these pillars resting on?"


    "...They''re magic?"


    "Was that a question?"


    "I don''t know. I assume zhey''re magic."


    The bridge passed between the legs of a giant cave dragon. Five times as large as the previous, but with three heads and powerful lifted wings.


    "Zhere. Zhe boss monster. It is strong, but defense is not its main purpose. Its divinity focuses and attracts zhe magical current to zhe core."


    "I''ve been getting pestered about getting a boss monster. Seems like a lotta trouble to me." Scratch said.


    The dragon brought its heads low, sniffed them, and looked straight ahead again. Pacified.


    "You should. It''s vorth it. A boss monster vill make your sanctums more powerful, and allow more magic at your devil altar."


    "Yeah but I''m not building traps I- oh hi."


    Behind the dragon was the wyrm shard. In the abyss it had unfurled into a horrid sea-creature like form. And in its center sat a throne, with the dungeon master.


    "Hi." She said.


    She was a fat woman with veins of pulsing energy breaking up her skin, and blacked thorns growing out of them.


    "Fleeeeder. I''ve been expeeeeecting you... What have you brooouuught wiiith you?"


    "Millene." He bowed and she gave a slight nod. "Another vassal of our master graces our presence," he said, "it is zhe master of-"


    "I know Scratch." She cawed, "what''s thaaaat?"


    "Oh, zhe man? An unvitting collaborator in our incognition. I suppose."


    Youthere released Rufus and he stumbled forward towards the throne.


    Millene put her hands on the papery skin of his head and drew him close.


    Then she put her mouth on her eyeball and sucked out its fluids.


    Rufus was too weak even to scream properly. He gasped and died. When she dropped him onto the stone floor not a single drop of blood came out of his gaping head wound.


    "I consume soouuls." Millene said, answering a question nobody had asked. "But hiiiis... I leave."


    "Millene here is a dark sorceress," Noss explained, "she has tamed zhe core and can control it directly."


    "I doooo. I have seen you through the miiiiiror."


    She moved her arms as if to get up, but changed her mind and leaned back again.


    "Is the speech impediment a side effect?" Scratch whispered, "or..."


    "Lady Millene has enhanced her innate potential with demonic power." Noss said out loud.


    "Of the sort that you have refused, master." Youthere said. "For worry of corruption."


    "The corruption is worth iiiit." Millene smiled, "for the power it has granted me."


    Scratch looked around at the empty void. "What do you do here all day?"


    "Zhat is not vhat ve''re here to discuss." Noss said impatiently, he smiled at Millene. "I have shown Scratch zhe fineries of your defenses. So zhat he may be inspired for his own dungeon."


    She nodded, "then you must show him my most valuable minion."


    She held out her hand, and for a few moments, nothing happened. Then an orb of light whisked towards her and disappear in a flash.


    The thin witch from the safe room now kneeled before her.


    "Riiiise, Umbra." She gasped, "your client requires your services."


    "Yes, my lady." He stood up and bent over Rufus, dispelling the aging curse.


    "Uuuumbraaa supports the adventurers'' foooolish wandering throuuugh my maze, and wins their truuuust. They willingly grant him their blood, so that I may knooooow exactly where they are."


    "I see." Scratch smacked his lips. "That''s very clever. All of this. Is very clever. For giving adventurers the runaround." He gazed at both of them with a serious expression. "There are no adventurers in our dungeon, adventurers can''t even reach the Promise."


    Millene threw back her head and laughed, a thunderous guffawing was swallowed up by the silent nothing.


    Noss put her face in his hand and shook his head.


    Even Youthere had the corners of his mouth twitching up and down.


    "Master..." he said, "all dungeons across the six planes and four realms are geared for combat. Not because none have thought of the peaceful strategy before, but because only the combative dungeons survive."


    "Maaany years ago," Millene said, "this maze was the underground passageway of a wealthy metropoliiiiis. Did you see any sign of civilization on the surface?"


    Umbra left with Rufus in order to revive him.


    Scratch thought deeply. "That hamlet... it was build on ruins just like-"


    "All our works on the surface will be torn dooooooown. It is the land kissed by Benesant''s star, her will prevails."


    "Zhe Promise vill eventually be destroyed." Noss said, "it is inevitable."


    <hr>


    Scratch was still considering their words when they returned to the warp circle underneath the Promise.


    The had to wait for the gate to be unlocked to exit the armored dome around the place.


    "Vhy did you build it like zhis?" Noss asked, "it''s like a prison."


    "Yeah." He said absentmindedly.


    "Yes. So-"


    He was interrupted by the loud mechanical clanking of the gate sliding open.


    Behind it stood Alpheba, Lacrima''s young apprentice.


    Her expression was grave.


    "Our master is about to receive some dire news." Youthere said to the vampire.


    "Your master." He hissed back.


    The dire news was delivered by Lacrima herself.


    Passing through the metalworking industry, anvils, beam-rollers, and the giant forge, it was only a twenty minute walk from the circle to her hut.


    "Look at this." She said, "do you know what this is?"


    Scratch looked at the wall of wires and beads that now cut the home it two. It moved just like Umbra''s instrument had.


    "A witch harp." He said.


    "Oh..." she looked disappointed, "yes. That''s true."


    "Miss Lacrima has gathered the blood mark of dozens of heroes," Alpheba said, "and one is approaching us now."


    She pointed at a glowing read bead rattling against the edge of the frame.


    "The Rose hero arrived at our doorstop without my knowledge. The Nightshade hero we can prepare for, what do you know about him?"


    "The Nightshade hero?" Scratch nodded, "that''s Laurus. Travels with a party of only chicks. He owes a favor to an associate of us who bailed him out of jail. I''ve recently learned... he might be wise beyond his years."


    "Whatever he is, he is a rank A hero. He and his parties have defeated monsters bigger than this entire dungeon."


    "Bigger than... pfff." Scratch scoffed at the hyperbole, but Lacrima''s face remained stern, "wait, you''re serious?"


    "There can be no doubt. If Laurus'' party comes to attack us, we will all be killed."


    "Well he won''t." Scratch said calmly, "both his guild and his realm have brokered a peace with us for now. So he has no reason to-"


    "He comes from the elven village." Alpheba said.


    Scratch stared silently into nothing.


    "That''s the village you massacred and burned down." She clarified.


    "Yes... I know."


    "Well... zhat prediction came true earlier zhan expected." Noss sighed. "Ve should build up some dungeon defenses for after zhe Promise is leveled."


    "Not so fast." Scratch said, "everybody has a price. We just need to make peace more attractive than war for this guy. If we can''t do it by stick, we''ll do it by carrot."


    "You think you can bribe the man whose hometown you slaughtered and burned to the ground!?"


    "Uhm, yes?"


    "Master," Youthere interjected, "I do believe I have a solution. And it will grant sir Fleder here to demonstrate the utility of his expertise."


    "Youthere," Scratch said calmly, "I keep you around specifically to demonstrate how I don''t need you."


    "Oh master, don''t be like that. If your plans work, mine will never come into action. What if I promise that? If the power of money succeeds, I shall admit that it is greater than the power of evil. But if the power of money fails, you must let me demonstrate the power of evil."


    "This dungeon is under my control," Lacrima stated, "and I say we need as many defenses as we need. Both against the fairy queen and against the hero."


    "Let us not forget zhe liege." Noss said.


    All stared at Scratch.


    He sighed, "what do you need?"


    "Master!... Only a dungeon core."


    <hr>


    In the past two months troll garden had carved itself out of the desert of the underworld and become a place of greenery and life.


    The fertile runoff from the region''s sewers now clattered through a series of small irrigation canals, and the swamp grass had layed the foundation for a spongy soil, on which grape cuttings and young trees were planted.


    Seen from up high in the cable car, it seemed like a miniature forest, occasionally disturbed by enormous trolls.


    It gave Liorin a wistful sense of belonging, sitting on Will''s lap and looking out over their home.


    "Liorin." The oldest elf silently hissed, trying to be authoritative without making a scene. ''Get off of there'' her eyes said.


    Liorin started to giggle, and so did her friend beside her.


    Farith was losing her authority over the other elves.


    "We''re about to arrive." Lydia Harkness said. "Ada. Please help me dock."


    Ada clicked her tongue as she passed by the elves climbing out the window.


    The two women secured the vessel using rope, so the occupants could safely leave onto the lower arrival platform.


    There were twelve of them in total, five elves, five hobgoblins, Lydia, and Second.


    "How wondrous!" Farith exclaimed, "is this truly the same house?"


    The lush garden that surrounded it was now fenced off, and a hedge of azaleas provided privacy against the trolls.


    A small tower peeked from behind the bushes, build on top of the newly renovated home.


    The elven home was nearly as large as the surface manor now.


    Where they once had had a box of thin planks, they new had a wooden villa with large glass windows onto the garden and a second floor for private quarters.


    Not by accident, the private rooms were all accessed from the outside from different angles.


    "We felt it appropriate. To be more accommodating. While you''re here." Lydia explained.


    "A golden cage is still a cage." Farith said, furrowing her brow at the new drinking water dispenser in the garden, which now was shaped like


    Scratch, spewing water from its mouth.


    Will tugged on Liorin''s hand. "Come see the staircase. I helped with the staircase."


    "Don''t you take her anyw-!" Farith stopped herself from getting angry in front of their captors. Ada especially was itching to discipline her. "...I''ll go with you."


    Second whispered in Lydia''s ear.


    "That''s right." She said. "The house tour will have to wait. We have something to show you."


    -


    The something was Cyclophan''s dungeon core, which was now at the end of a long sandstone path into the unshaded desert of the underworld.


    The sunstone ceiling shone down on them harshly as they crossed and they had brought no protection.


    "This is torture." Farith complained.


    "It''s not supposed to be pleasant." Lydia said. "It is used to deter attackers."


    "Then why art thou making us suffer through it?"


    But Liorin had a different question. "What is there to protect after even us?" She whispered to will.


    He was protecting her from the light with his arm, although it clearly hurt him more than her. "The dungeon core is where our magic comes from."


    He said.


    The path ended when the stone stopped and the sand suddenly caved into a hole.


    The shard was at the bottom of a pit, about fifty paces in diameter.


    Simple wooden supports prevented the sand walls from caving in and burying it.


    "This is the object you have seen us transport using the cables." Lydia said, pointing at the organic looking crystal. "So there can be no more mystery. You must never again enter this place."


    "This is a dungeon core, is it not?" Farith concluded.


    "It is."


    "Then it shalleth be guarded by an antediluvian beast. As we hath put aside fear of trolls, we must now fear the presence of a dragon, a giant, or other such beast."


    "Not exactly. Second?"


    Second hesitated. He was nervous to speak in such company.


    "I''m- Me and some brothers are going to build a room here."


    "A fortress." Lydia corrected.


    "A fortress." He said.


    "And you will be using... stone..." she coaxed him.


    "Stone and bronze. And fir wood, which- we need to remove the resin first. And thatch... in places.... rope-"


    "In any case." She took the floor back, "a defensive structure. I do not want any of you to interfere with it."


    Farith crossed her arms. "Why wouldst we?"


    "Yes? Your curiosity has been sated?"


    "Of course."


    "Then we can go back. You have a new house to explore."


    Second stayed behind, measuring things.


    It occurred to Lydia that he would be uncomfortable working in this light for the rest of the day, but it was too late to do anything about that now.


    "Didn''t I say so?" One of the elves whispered to Liorin. "It looks just like-"


    "Shhh."


    <hr>


    This is the third city I have passed by on my way back from Eston.


    In every city so far there''s been a fire, and someone important having gone missing.


    "This is deja vu." Is the sort of feeling I''m getting.


    [You wouldn''t believe it,] I say to the woman manning the stable, [there was a fire and a disappearance just like this in Roeke and Plinth.]


    The woman stares at me with tired eyes. [It''s the thieves'' guild causing trouble again.]


    The thieves'' guild is like the yakuza, only worse. They''re criminals that work together not to get caught.


    I hear there are heroes that catch criminals. I''ve only been fighting monsters so far.


    [Have you seen them yourself?] I ask.


    If I can get a description of what the thieves'' guild members look like, maybe I can catch them.


    She shakes her head. [But you just know. A while back there were a bunch of new gangs popping up all at once. They took over the pick-pocketing and extortion, and were always peddling potions in the slums. Now those same punks are being found dead everywhere. It''s clearly two factions at war with each other.]


    I think about it for a bit. [Oh. But if they''re only fighting each other, then that''s good. There''ll be less thieves left over.]


    [But there''s still chaos!] She says. [Young people are still dying, and we''re still afraid to go out at night!]


    Then she turns away.


    [Not that I expect a high ranking adventurer to understand.]


    Uhm... I kinda don''t get it. But also ''this doesn''t have anything to do with me'', is what I''m thinking.


    <hr>


    Maze of Millene


    Size: Unknown


    Threat Level: C


    Realm: Yellow Wastes


    The Maze of Millene is a dungeon in the temperate biome of Kvatch, to the west of the desert mountains.


    Despite the relative gentleness of its surroundings, this is a C-level dungeon, and a permanent watch has been established by the guild to prevent unsuspecting rookies from wandering in. There are accommodations and shops in this camp, and monster parts can be sold.


    There are two known layers to this dungeon, but not all of it has been explored.


    The first layer is called the Corridors. Adventurers must take measures not to get lost in an extensive maze of stone walls, and dodge pitfalls, flood chambers and crushing walls.


    This page used to warn of minotaurs, but these are now considered exterminated. The layer still contains death widows, slimes, and cave harpies.


    At the end of the Corridors a safe zone has been established, where adventurers can purchase healing or warpstones.


    The second layer is called the Mirror Maze. This region is not yet fully explored, and the exit has not yet been found. Adventurers must survive in a maze of illusion while accosted by cave harpies, basilisks, and sometimes cave dragons.


    Consult the quest board to find the going rate of a map to the third layer.


    The Maze of Millene is built as a necropolis for the ancient tyrant Millene, who once ruled Kvatch. Any party able to retrieve proof of her demise may claim the region for themselves.

 Skin Deep

    It was a cold winter''s night in Eston.


    Exactly the kind the children pray for at the solstice.


    A thick blanket of snow covered the streets, and a thick blanket of cloud covered the stars.


    The perfect stage for fireworks to steal the show.


    Now that he had finally been cleared of all suspicion, Laurus and Sylphie had found the perfect spot to watch the spectacle. The roof of the guild house provided an uninterrupted view of the light show.


    Dozens of colorful sparks exploded in the sky, shaking the air with their loud bangs, and when rocket exploded to create a dragon, it lit up the town as if it were day.


    Sylphie glanced at Laurus, he looked like a true hero of legend in this light.


    It occurred to her that this was the longest they had gone without bickering in a while. The tragedy had overshadowed their petty differences, but it had been... nice. To be so close to him again.


    "Don''t worry Sylphie." Laurus had detected her ruminations. "We''ll go back to the village, and we''ll put things right."


    The light of the firework faded away.


    The last time she had seen the elven village, it was over her shoulder, as she was fleeing its fire and violence.


    "How canst thou be so sure?" She said somberly against the darkness.


    "Because. We still have a future there, don''t we?"


    When the light came back she saw his confident grin.


    "We... a future...?" She swallowed. "Laurus, whatever doth happen. I want to have said it. I lov-"


    A loud bang drowned out her words as the loudest firework yet split open the clouds.


    "Woooow!" Laurus gasped at the size of it. "Just like our battle with the storm dragon... Sorry Sylphie, what were you saying?"


    Sylphie suddenly blushed like a tomato, too self conscious to repeat herself. "I said... thou better better keepst thine promises this time. Or I shallt strangle the life out of thou myself."


    He smiled. "You got it."


    -


    "That little tramp." The mage whispered.


    "What is it? What are you seeing?" Margaret hovered around her as if that would grant her a glimpse of the woman''s divinations.


    After the spying bug had been destroyed by whatever lurked in the forest, she had created something with a more immediate feed, though a much reduced range. A blue butterfly was spying on the two from the side of the chimney.


    "Nothing... Just the elf girl trying to confess her love to Laurus."


    "Not her too!" The paladin sunk down, "tell me he at least turned her down."


    "I believe he didn''t hear her."


    The duelist clicked her tongue. "As if it''s not bad enough to have you lot fluttering around him. Now he''s got that childhood friend shadowing him everywhere."


    "How are we supposed to be compete with a childhood friend? An elven childhood friend?" Margaret whined.


    "Here is what I propose," the mage said, "we form a truce. Until that runt is gone, we work together to make sure she doesn''t win."


    "Deal." Margaret said.


    The martial artist smashed her fists together as confirmation.


    "If we''re going to have a truce..." the duelist said, "that means none of us can make a move either, or we''d be forced to go back to fighting."


    "Well? Are you in?" Margaret asked, "we can''t do it unless we''re all part of it."


    "Fine, I''m in. But the second she''s gone, I''m going back to trying to seduce him." She said.


    "That goes for all of us." The mage said.


    The martial artist smashed her fists together as confirmation.


    <hr>


    Only the charred remains of the great mother tree had survived as proof that once there had been an elven village there.


    The walkways and huts had long since scattered into the winds.


    Laurus and the others were high ranking adventurers and their flying mounts allowed them to travel long distances quickly, but they didn''t touch down on village ground until half a day after setting out.


    They had flown over the place twice without recognizing it.


    Where they landed there was a small shrine, a vertical slab with a wreath on top of a small mound.


    A young boy was praying at it.


    Laurus dismounted his pegasus. It whinnied, but he ignored it.


    "What is this? Where are the villagers?"


    The boy turned around, his eyes were covered by thick bangs but he displayed a feigned surprise using the lower half of his face. "Adventurers!


    Well met. If you seek the hidden village of the elves, I''m afraid it''s long gone."


    He towards a whisk card on the mound, which showed the village burning.


    "The culmination of years of war I''m afraid. The new Baronet is determined to bring an end to such conflicts."


    "The wretch doth lie!" Sylphie cried from behind Margaret''s back (the women had argued against her riding on Laurus'' steed.) "There were no war! The elves were ambushed without warning, and they were slaughtered."


    The boy nodded solemnly. "Indeed. That is the sort of war it was. Elves and goblins have been killing each other on sight for generations."


    There was a strange logic to his words. Civilized people would kill goblins on sight, from the creatures'' own perspective this would be nothing less than an existential war. Not just bestial desire would drive such an attack on the village, an ancestral pride as well.


    "And you then?" Margaret asked, "Are you on the side of the goblins, or on the side of justice?"


    He smiled, "in this place, goblins are on the side of justice."


    She grimaced, "if that is a lie it would be one sinful enough to strip your blessings."


    "Papa Scratch has been appointed Baronet of the greater Eston territory by your own monarch. We serve the same justice you do."


    The duelist cocked her head. "But you''re not a goblin... what are you?"


    "I am a messenger," he said, "the Baronet had decided to sponsor you."


    The other adventurers had dismounted now as well. "What is this, sponsoring?" The mage asked.


    "Right now in Eston, there is a room reserved at the at the armory. If you go there you will find a wealth of enchanted steel weaponry and potions.


    It is yours!" He smiled eagerly, "noblemen often commission personalized quests with a specific party of trusted adventurers. These sponsored parties are payed well and equipped to handle prestigious quests. You will be conquering dungeon after dungeon, liberating corrupted biomes! Heroes!"


    The duelist chuckled, "we''re rank A. Does he think we need sponsoring by some Baron?" she whispered.


    "It''s a Baronet." The mage whispered back.


    "The hell''s a Baronet?"


    Laurus was looking up in the sky, "that''s an attractive offer, but you still haven''t answered my question."


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    The boy pouted.


    "Where are the villagers now?"


    He didn''t answer.


    "Binding Light!" Margaret shouted, and circles of light suddenly appeared around the boy''s limbs and neck.


    His body began to stretch and morph, and he hissed nastily at the magical constructs.


    "It''s a demon." She said, "summoned by the Baronet as a familiar."


    "The pegasi saw through the disguise immediately." Laurus said, he pointed the tip of his sword at the bound demon. "You will take us to your master, or else."


    <hr>


    Scratch got up and spat on the ground. "Didn''t work."


    "What was he doing?" Alpheba asked.


    "Scratch can control the demon, but he can''t use his body when he''s doing it." Second explained, as he handed his brother a waterskin. "We were talking to the adventurer."


    "Ugh. That was never going to work. Let the incubus do his natural business. Rather, occupy yourself with more pressing matters."


    "Why? What''s happening?" Scratch looked around.


    He had zoned out in the wolves'' den, but now the battlefield around him was nearly unrecognizable.


    The sunstone lanterns had been trampled and the mossy earth had been upturned in the still ongoing maelstrom of fire and melee.


    It was another fairy attack.


    The mother wolves were fighting for the lives of their litters now, and various bandits were keeping the enemy occupied with magical fire, but it was a losing battle.


    Not mantis knights or magical beasts had invaded, but a new enemy.


    Young trees in the shape of women, their stem without roots and shaped like legs, they walked. Their faces frozen in a wooden disdain, they sang.


    And their chest a glowing block of amber, they wielded magic.


    Cracks in the stone and clouds of nasty looking spores materialized where the creatures waved their arms.


    They threw around their magic haphazardly in all directions, as the bandits had successfully broken apart their formation and reduced the battle to a skirmish, where they had the home advantage.


    "Dryads." Alpheba groaned, "they can move through the woods without detection. We weren''t prepared." She used magic to cancel out a cloud of poison heading their way. "I could release the wolf, but... it won''t distinguish friend from foe."


    "Yeah, don''t do that." Scratch said, he took a gulp of water. "We''ll retreat from this position. Move around into the upper layer and seal them in.


    They can''t get to the core from here anyway."


    "No! I can''t do that. I have to protect this door. My master..."


    He looked behind him. It was the gate to Noss'' dangerous sanctum project. "She''s hiding in there? ... You know, we don''t expect you to give your life just to buy her a few more minutes. In fact, if she dies, I''ll make sure you inherit-"


    "Shut up." She said. "Help me guard the door and just.. shut. up."


    "She''s got an attitude." Scratch said to Second.


    Second nodded.


    -


    His nonchalant attitude quickly melted when he first tried to use his fire spellrod on a dryad and it did exactly nothing.


    The manabelt sucked out his blood in exchange for the magic, but the fire did not much more than sear it.


    "Hhm..." He inspected his weapon while the enemy was kept away from him by the rest of the fighters. "You''d think a wooden creature would be more vulnerable to fire."


    "No, you wouldn''t," Alpheba said while casting her magic, "wood may catch the flame after it has died and dried up, but it does not die to it any quicker than flesh."


    "So I can''t even rely on that kind of logic. What kind of logic is left?" Scratch sighed in exasperation. "Come Second, we better get out of here."


    But they were saved by the door to the sanctum bursting open.


    A cool green light filled the cavern, returning vision and clarity back to the underground.


    All the fighting had ceased.


    The dryads had frozen like mannequins.


    The bandits stood around in confusion.


    Only some of the younger wolves were still angrily gnawing on their enemies'' legs.


    "It vorks!" Noss belted out, "most vonderful! Now I prove my merit as a dark sorcerer. It vorks!"


    He stood beside the most beautiful woman any of them had ever seen. A tall and developed figure in a ripped dress, none-the-less radiating grace and nobility.


    Her blonde hair wafted through the air like in water.


    In fact, she floated weightlessly in the middle of the sanctum completely. Large butterfly wings sprouted from her back, but stood still in the air.


    She looked over the gawking mass with a superior smile and raised her hand.


    The dryads, in a robotic motion, took a hold of their glowing cores, and ripped them out of their chests, immediately collapsing on the floor.


    Without realizing it, Scratch had approached the divine being and held out his hand.


    Her own hand reach out to touch his and her face contorted in a wicked smile. It began to peel and shrivel into the pruny face of a hag.


    He recoiled.


    She sunk down, and when her feet touched the floor she had become Lacrima. The witch.


    "What the hell was that?" Scratch emoted heavily, he had been severely put off by the transformation.


    "The marriage of dark sorcery and witchcraft." Lacrima said, "I do believe."


    -


    It wouldn''t be until much later that she would explain what she had meant.


    While Scratch had tried to negotiate with the heroes, dryads had stormed not just the dungeon, but the entire Promise.


    Buildings had been ripped open, cattle stomped, and men brutalized.


    When Lacrima had performed her trick, the entire town had been saved.


    So she took some time basking in the glory and praise of the half-legitimate bandit town.


    "Witches are normally tasked with rooting out dark sorcery," she explained, "but if it''s in the service of our community, I suppose it''s only... proper."


    "You''re on the wrong side of the law now anyway," Scratch said, "so why not?"


    "And the power of a dungeon..." she nearly drooled reminiscing, "it is... intoxicating."


    "Likevise, dark sorcerers tend to look down on vielders of divine magic," Noss said, "but Guth''s transformation magic. It''s inspired."


    "So what happened?" Scratch wanted to know.


    "Didn''t you notice, dearie?" She asked, "I turned into a fairy queen."


    He blinked blankly.


    "Zhe fairy queen controls zhe vitchvood creatures using fairy light." Noss said patiently, "ve have created a sanctum zhat turns zhe occupant into a fairy queen. So zhat she may overwrite zhe control of zhe vitchvood ruler vith her own."


    "Alas," Lacrima sighed, "we the sanctum is imperfect and can''t keep me transformed for very long. So the light won''t reach farther than this town."


    "Perhaps..." Noss suggested innocently, "if ve could build a specialize transformation dungeon, closer to zhe border..."


    They both looked at Scratch.


    "Did you say light?" He asked, "like a radio signal?"


    "Please provide us with another wyrm shard," Lacrima said, and it didn''t escape him that she took the trouble to ask nicely rather than demand it, "to build a fairy stronghold."


    "You want to get out of here before the big shot comes to destroy us all, don''t you?" Scratch asked.


    "I think my master just really enjoys the body of a fairy queen," Alpheba said with a pressed smile.


    Lacrima gave her a strict look.


    "We can build twelve fairy whatevers if we want," he said, "all along the river to keep them out from every direction. But it''s all theoretical unless


    Youthere''s plan works and keeps us from being destroyed."


    "What is his plan anyway?" Lacrima asked.


    He looked at her with a difficult expression.


    <hr>


    I feel guilty. If hobgoblins destroyed the village, does that mean it''s my fault?


    They asked me to slay the hobgoblins, but I killed the orcs instead. What if the orcs had never driven away the hobgoblins like I had assumed?


    And in the first place, if there''s hobgoblins, doesn''t that mean there''s a captured elf somewhere?


    Margaret sees me thinking. [As long as we''re together, Laurus, we can make it through.]


    She''s holding on to my arm.


    Her breasts! Her breasts are right there and squishing into me!


    Don''t look. Don''t look.


    [Ahem.] Kiko says, and Margaret immediately lets go of me.


    They''re all kinda cold from me lately, and they''re keeping their distance.


    I expect it from Sylphie, but not from the others.


    They must be disappointed in me after all.


    [Here it is.] The little demon says. [The baronet''s hotspring retreat.]


    [Hotspring retreat? You said you would take us to your master.] Kiko points her katana at him.


    [Oh, silly!] The demon laughs. [The Baronet knows where you are. I am his familiar after all! If you wish to face him, you cannot go after him, you must make him come to you. Voila! His lordship''s only hotspring.]


    [Stay where you are.] I say to the demon, and take the others aside. [What do you think?]


    [Hmmpf. It''s obviously a trap.] Kiko says.


    [Right. And how do we handle traps?]


    [Spring ''em.] Elma says, bashing her large barbarian fists together. [Fight our way out.]


    [Not with Sylphie here,] Kiko says, [she''s not a high ranking adventurer like us. We''d be endangering her.]


    I think about it deeply. [Tina, can you use your magic to determine the threat level of this hotspring?]


    [Oh, uhm, sure.] She adjusts her mage glasses and casts [Greater Analysis]. [There are no powerful creatures inside the hotsprings right now.


    The goblin boss will likely send an army to encircle it later.]


    [Good. Then we can defend it as our homebase. Sylphie will be safe inside. Don''t you think so, Sylphie?]


    [Oh, uh.. mhm.] She nods.


    [Then it''s settled. We''ll let the enemy come to us.]


    The truth is...


    It''s been really long since I''ve been to an onsen!


    This world has no onsens. Everybody showers, and nobles use bathtubs.


    I really look forward to a relaxing evening in a hot spring before fighting the hobgoblin army.


    -


    The demon leads us up the path towards the hot spring.


    It''s filled with uneven rocks that the pegasi can''t walk on. And it''s not like they can gently hover, if they''re going to fly it''s gotta be over the treetops.


    [I''m leaving you here Shadow.] I say to my pegasus. [You warn us when they come to ambush us, right?]


    He whinnies dutifully.


    [You too, Lady.] Margaret says.


    And soon all the pegasi are left outside, to guard us.


    The stairs lead us to the main entrance.


    It is covered using a curtain.


    Woah! It''s just like a real onsen!


    [Thou seemeth strangely happy to be here.] Sylphie says.


    An otherworlder wouldn''t get it.


    Inside the building there is a reception for receiving guests.


    The demon goes up to the counter before us and rings the bell.


    Nobody comes out.


    [Huh? It''s deserted?]  I ask.


    But as soon as I come up to the counter, a shadow appears from behind the curtain.


    The woman that comes out is so beautiful!


    She''s an elf, with long blonde hair to her waist.


    Her build is lithe, but she is developed like Margaret.


    She''s weairing a sarong around her hips and a bikini top.


    [Oooh? New customers?] She asks.


    [Occupiers actually,] the demon says, [these adventurers want to kill the Baronet.]


    [That''s a pity,] the elf sighs, [but understandable. I am but a humble bath-house overseeer. I hope you can spare me, being a civilian.]


    [Of course we can.] Margaret says, [but, are you an elf? Were you spared from the attack?]


    [No. This one beith not one of our kin.] Sylphie says, [never hath I seen her face in the village.]


    [That is true.] The older elf says, [my name is Rubelle. I come from a foreign country. I can not claim to understand the depth of the loss you feel.


    But I want to tell you I sympathize. I only work for the Baronet to earn a living, I owe him no loyalty.]


    [She doesn''t talk weird like Sylphie does at all.] Kiko whispers.


    Rubelle claps her hands. [Perhaps I can interest you in our hotspring services? On the house, of course.]


    Yes please!


    <hr>


    Dryad


    Family: Plants


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 2 gold pieces


    Dryads are woodland protectors. They only become hostile when the land is polluted or ravaged and should not be attacked in their peaceful state.


    They can be recognized by their wooden bodies and womanly shape. Each dryad carries a core of amber that is the source of her power. The amber of a dryad is a rare potion ingredient that may be sold at the adventurers'' guild.


    Dryads have the Treewalk ability, and are thusly able to meld into trees. This allows them to ambush adventurers in forested areas and more easily evade attack. An ambush of hostile dryads can contain anywhere between three and eight dryads, and is an omen of hostile fairies. If an encounter with dryads was not expected, a party should reconsider its expedition after encountering them.

 Melt Away

    "Well, that sounds absolutely reasonable," Lacrima sipped her tea calmly, "if we''ve accepted the premise of dark sorcery, that is."


    Scratch, on the other hand, was already packing things into a suitcase on the manor carpet. "Ya thinks so? Cause I think it''s wacky tabacky."


    "Scratch, stop." Lydia put her hand on his shoulder.


    "We gotta get out of here," he hissed at her under his breath.


    "This is our home! Do you really think you could keep your protection from the realm without controlling the area."


    "We hardly control it now. The fairies are wrecking the outer colonies you know."


    Noss interjected, he had adopted the witch''s posture and was likewise sipping tea, but on a smaller chair. "It is not unprecedented, for a dungeon to constrict its prey via temptation. I must show you one soon."


    Scratch dropped his shoulders, "fine... what the hell are you talking about now?"


    "It is simple, once an adventurer abandons zheir gods, zhey become vulnerable to intrusions in zhe mind and body." Noss said.


    "Or if their gods abandon them." Lacrima said.


    They both laughed at each other.


    "I don''t like how chummy they''re getting." Scratch whispered to Lydia.


    "Take our former knight here," Lacrima put her cup down, "you have already lost the protection of Benesant."


    "W-what? But I have never rejected her."


    "Rejection is done not just with words, but with actions as well. When you consorted with her sworn enemy in the most profane way. It is not easy for a knight of the realm to lose the blessing of Rhada as well, if you had, I would be able to put you to sleep with a flick of my wrist."


    Lydia looked at Scratch in shock, but he was becoming intrigued by the story now. "So if we want the Nightshade hero to become vulnerable to your magic, what does Youthere need to get him to do?"


    "Zhere are party members from different realms in the party," Noss said, "each vill need a different vice. Zhose blessed by Rhada must disavow honor and strength, zhose blessed by Dower must reject mercy. But all are blessed by Benesant, and must reject zhe concept of justice itself."


    Scratch frowned a bit just by mention of the word. "Is that a reasonable expectation."


    "Not for Youzhere to bring about by himself, no," said Noss, "but zhen, zhat vasn''t our strategy. Ve have used zhe bloodmark of Laurus, zhat Lacrima had stored, to summon one of his siblings."


    "A second incubus?"


    "Nay, quite the opposite. A succubus."


    "I see," Lacrima nodded, "so that what it was for. A succubus. Opposite of an incubus... I suppose it is. In every way."


    Both laughed, leaving Scratch and Lydia out of the joke.


    <hr>


    "Don''t you dare walk in there like that." Kiko hissed at Margaret.


    Both were dressed in nothing but a towel, and both were standing in the entrance to the men''s bath.


    "I wasn''t! I was just- Hey, you''re here as well."


    She sputtered, "no, I was just... I saw you, so..."


    "Ladies..." the elf that had welcomed them to the establishment joined them in the hallway, "the women''s baths are this way."


    "Uh, yeah."


    "Of course."


    -


    The bath was a natural hot spring, bubbling up from the underground.


    It was surrounded by nature, in the form of smooth rocks, moss, and bamboo, and an intoxicating sweet air.


    A thin wooden wall divided the men''s and women''s section.


    "So what''s the idea here?" The mage, Tina, asked, she was the only one that had not fully dressed down and kept a modest layer of water resistant undergarments to cover her shame. "We simply soak in the hot water? Produce a thin person-flavored bouillon perhaps?"


    "You sit in the water, and you be grateful for it," Kiko said, and smacked her on the butt, "finally loosen up that tight ass."


    She was the first one to settle down in the water.


    "You are familiar with this shared bath concept?" Margaret asked.


    "They''re all over the place in the mist isles. Those are magically heated though. It''s good, it''s a good experience."


    "I just worry... about us being vulnerable." Margaret lowered her foot in the water and found it amenable, lowering herself in. "Can we leave our weapons behind like that?"


    "You worry too much, it''s a low ranking zone, right Tina?"


    The mage nodded. "Any of us would be able to defeat a troll or ogre trivially, even while... uhm... naked. The warrens doesn''t have anything to throw at us stronger than that."


    "Speaking of vulnerable," Kiko said, "where is the little sl- the little elf?"


    "I thought you were watching her."


    "No! I thought you were watching her."


    They both looked at the divider.


    But all three women were suddenly splashed with water when Elma, the tall and broad martial artist jumped in the water balled up like a cannonball.


    "Dammit Elma! That''s not how you''re supposed to use it!" Kiko sputtered.


    "Is in the bedchambers." Elma said.


    "What?"


    "Sylphie is making her bed in the bed chambers."


    "There''s bedchambers?"


    -


    Meanwhile, in the men''s section, Laurus was already thoroughly de-stressed, soaking in the warm water.


    He was gently wafting between consciousness and sleep, letting the arguing of his companions soothe him. When he noticed a figure walking in through his eyelashes.


    "Who''s there?"


    "It is me," the bathhouse overseer said through a smile, "Rubelle."


    "Oh, hi." He was immediately awake and sat up straight.


    From where he sat, he would be able to quickly kill her using fire magic if she tried something.


    "As a service we offer at this hot spring, I thought I would give you a massage." She gestured towards a cushioned table.


    "Oh, I don''t know if I sh- shou..." he stammered as she began to loosen her hair and took off her sarong.


    He was enchanted by her beauty.


    "I don''t think I can leave myself prone like that." He blushed and looked away. "I''ve been adventuring so long."


    "Oh? How about you sit right there, and let me massage you as is." She purred, walking into the water and up to him.


    A paralysis came over him, as it had many times before, where the forward affection of a woman left him dumbfounded and self conscious, unable to do or say anything at all.


    "My, so much stress..." she rubbed his thigh, "it must have been exhausting, traveling, and battling, non-stop, for so long."


    "Oh, you know..." he audibly swallowed, "we don''t mind. The realm needs us, you know, haha." He laughed nervously.


    His body had shown its arousal to her by now, and he hadn''t backed away. Instead, she came closer, pressing her body against it. "And what do you need?"


    "I? What do... I... need?" He lost his train of thought as his eyes focused on her approaching lips.


    She pressed her mouth against his and his entire body tensed up, but she didn''t relent, gently pushing him down against the rocks.


    -


    "What!?" Kiko jumped out of the water. "What is that moaning?"


    "Laurus is in trouble!" Margaret said, "Elma!"


    The large woman took her fist and punched a man-sized hole straight through the thin divider.


    The group was stunned.


    Tina quickly averted her gaze.


    Laurus threw the elf off of him.


    They had been caught in flagrante delicto.


    <hr>


    After the incident there was a short commotion, and it came to shouting.


    Margaret and Kiko admonished Laurus for letting his guard down around an enemy, but Tina double-crossed them and took his side to get into his good graces.


    Feelings were hurt, and Margaret had ended up isolating herself in the guest room.


    "Stupid. Stupid." She slapped her own temple with an open palm. Losing my temper. Now he thinks I''m some controlling bitch.


    She bit her thumb. Tina made well with it too. ''It''s your fault for barging in like that.'' Making us the villains, huh? Oh I bet she''s with Laurus right now-


    "Oh my, a lovers'' spat is it?" The demon familiar purred sadistically from his corner of the room. They had tied him up with shackles of elemental steel, but that didn''t obstruct his speaking.


    Margaret conjured a sword of light and pointed it at him, without looking up or even folding out of her self-pitying huddle.


    "It''s not at all strange for you to feel betrayed." He said, unfazed by the threat.


    Betrayed. That''s the word for it. "Right? Isn''t it though?" She vented.


    "You''ve traveled together, you''ve shared your moments together. Didn''t you say out of all members you knew him the longest?"


    "I did! You know, it was just Laurus and I fighting the thunder dragon Bromm. We saved each other''s lives so many times, and when we were at the peak... oh... he told me to close my eyes, and then he gave me this necklace."


    He nodded, "these moments are more than time-killing. They are the language of romance. How could you not feel like a lover, betrayed, seeing him in the arms of another woman?"


    "Right~? Wait, no. You''re a demon. I''m so stupid, I-"


    "Alarm! Monsters! Alarm!" Rubelle''s voice rang through the building.


    In a swift and single movement, Margaret donned her paladin armor and ran out the door.


    In the corridor Laurus told Sylphie to stay put, and the two ran out.


    -


    Outside, the other party members were already facing the approaching threat.


    Dryads, tree women, were clambering over the rocky incline towards the bath-house.


    The pegasi had escaped their bindings and were circling over top in a panic.


    "Wind Bullet." Tina instantly sniped two of the plant monsters with a medium powered spell, blasting their amber cores apart.


    "Okay, this seems doable." Laurus and Kiko were already leaping forward with their blades.


    "Wait for me!" Margaret ran after them.


    During the fight, they had each other''s trust, and the spat from before had faded into the background.


    The largest monster they had to face was a poison ent, which Laurus was able to hack in two after being thrown into the air by Elma.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    When she caught him, their faces were close together for several seconds, where they gazed into each other''s eyes and basked in their collective strength.


    He was the one to break it off. "Rubelle! Thank you for warning us, I knew we could trust you."


    "Milord," she bowed for him, "I am only in awe of your strength. If the Baronet will send these creatures after his own citizens, please eradicate him for me."


    They went on to praise each other, and Margaret proceeded to draw blood from her thumb biting it.


    "Hey," Kiko said to her, "does Laurus seem... weaker to you?"


    "Huh? No, he''s the strongest of all of us, as usual."


    "When he slashed that poison ent in two... I couldn''t help but feel like... it wasn''t as clean of a cut as usual."


    "If Laurus is weaker, it''s because of you," Margaret said venomously, "distracting him with your nagging."


    "What? Me? You''re the one who''s-"


    And soon they were in each other''s hair again, like they had been many times.


    -


    "Mar- Kiko? Are you done fighting?" Laurus asked. "I''m going inside to check on Sylphie.


    "Oh, sure."


    "Mhm."


    Both were red in the face after having acted childishly in front of their love interest once again.


    When they followed him inside, Rubelle was having a talk with Elma. "These aren''t just moments," she said, "this is the language of romance. A promise to you, he still hasn''t made true on."


    <hr>


    The girls would prefer to move on, but Laurus wanted to stay at the bath-house a few nights.


    He wasn''t officially the leader, but they were so eager to please his will tended to be done.


    And he had received a good justification by Rubelle: once it became clear that the fairy army wouldn''t be able to conquer the bath-house, the


    Baronet would be forced to march his personal army towards them. Then they would get the personal battle they needed.


    So there was nothing to be done but enjoy the relaxing amenities of the hot spring.


    The sweet air of the bath-house flushed their faces, and a glossy skin. It was intoxicating in a stimulating way.


    There were more fights with outside attackers, but none as strong as the poison ent. Only fairy beasts and belligerent pixies.


    And Margaret did notice it now.


    Laurus was getting weaker.


    His broad back had become slender, his skin smoother and softer. The change was slight, but the masculinity he had attained during his adventures with her was leaving his body.


    -


    On the third night, Laurus was laying face down on the massage table, when she put her hands on his back.


    "Rubelle..." he gasped, "we can''t keep doing this..."


    "It''s me." Margaret said.


    She had drunk in some courage and was now slightly tipsy, but her voice was clear, without slurring.


    "Margaret, I-" He tried to get up, but she pushed him down.


    Their positions put her at an advantage, and she put more spirit in it than he did, but still, it was easier than it should have been.


    "Laurus, let me massage you tonight. Kiko and the others are still cleaning up after the battle." She began rubbing her oiled up hands up and down his back without much technique. "We haven''t been alone for months, you know, just the two of us."


    He stopped struggling, but didn''t relax. "I''m sorry about that. It''s just... we''ve had so much to worry about recently. With the village being destroyed, and..."


    "Why did you let that Rubelle woman fuck you, Laurus?" She said with her liquid courage.


    He tried to turn to look at her, but she kept him pinned. "Rubelle isn''t our enemy, she''s also-"


    "I said why did you fuck her?"


    He winced.


    She grabbed him by the shoulders and flipped him on his back. "Why do you freeze up when I get close to you, huh? Do I disgust you so much?"


    "No! I... I- I-"


    She cupped his taint with her hand, it seemed ready to accept her, but the rest of the body was tense and trying to push her away.


    He didn''t have the strength.


    "Say that you love me, Laurus. Say it out loud, like you''ve done so many times without words."


    He was tearing up now, clearly unhappy, but unable to speak.


    So many times had this happened, where the natural reaction of his body scared him, and he would distance himself from a woman, in fear of sullying her with some immaterial corruption.


    She swung a large thigh over his body, now straddling him. "Say that you''ll let me do this."


    He pawed at her, some token resistance, it didn''t really count as a rejection.


    "If you won''t say yes, just don''t say no..."


    "Margaret..." he looked near to crying, but he didn''t say no.


    So she rode him.


    And she received the satisfaction she had craved.


    Not as romantically as she had envisioned, but a relief none-the-less.


    <hr>


    After that encounter, Laurus had trouble looking her in the eyes.


    When they were to have dinner, he excused himself and went to his sleeping quarters.


    Normally, Margaret would have followed after him, but she ran hot with shame and just stared at her lap as dinner was served.


    It was Sylphie that went after him instead.


    "Well... I do want to thank you heroes, for saving me from those horrid beasts." Rubelle cooed, as she stocked each of their plates with a hearty stew.


    She sat down at the head of the table, and gestured at them to eat.


    An awkward silence ruled the evening.


    "You won''t be eating with us again, Rubelle?" Tina eventually asked.


    "Oh, no. I won''t be."


    "Is it because you''re a succubus?"


    "Yes, indeed."


    She confirmed the accusation as if it were the most natural thing.


    A demon, with the ability to steal men''s power.


    "Eh! What!?" Kiko was the one to yell out, but they had all kicked their chairs out from under them.


    Only Tina and Rubelle remained seated.


    "I was slow to entertain the possibility," Tina said, adjusting her glasses, "as a succubus requires her victim''s touch to take form. Somehow, they were able to make use of Laurus'' body remotely to create her."


    "Margaret, use your light magic, she''s a demon!" Kiko shouted.


    But Margaret sat there, stunned.


    Rubelle chuckled, and leaned back. Her innocent demeanor made way for a sadistic glee. "You must be grateful to me, delivering to you what you could only fantasize about for so long."


    Kiko leaped over the table, drawing her katana from its sheath, but Elma stopped her with her powerful arms.


    Tina adjusted her glasses. "All three of you have exploited this situation. What you did was rape. You raped him."


    "No!" Margaret sputtered, "I... it was a wordless consent. Laurus and I... we were promised to each other, we-"


    "You!?" Kiko pushed Elma away to turn to Margaret. "I was the one he had an unspoken connection with."


    "Laurus has led us all on," Elma said, "he would never reject or accept any of our romantic advances. His interest was to bask in all of our attention and never commit to a single person. Even to the last moment, he never wanted to deny the affection between us, just never close off the alternatives. And this has turned us against each other. Sisters in battle, who by all rights should have been friends, reduced to endless strife over a price they could never possess."


    "Not anymore," Rubelle said, "the prize, and your friendship can both be yours."


    Kiko and Margaret looked each other in the eyes and their expressions softened.


    Only Tina was still unhappy, she was fidgeting with her glasses. "I see how it is, you are all under demonic influence. The law won''t be merciful on this. I''ll take Laurus and-"


    "Oh Tina, you think you can have him for yourself now." Rubelle said, she took position behind her and began to massage her tense shoulders.


    "Can his opinion of you be saved when he finds out you were spying on each encounter with your familiar?"


    "That''s... No, I was collecting evidence."


    Margaret dared to give a guilty smile, "your new familiar doesn''t do recording does it? It''s a ''live feed''?"


    "I think you were collecting something else." Kiko said superiorly.


    "You will always be one of the women that went mad over him," Rubelle said, "you could never compete with his childhood friend."


    Her face went flush up to the tips of her ears.


    Rubelle leaned in to whisper in her ear. "My form is that of Laurus'' desire, isn''t it? I am an elven woman. In fact, Sylphie''s fully grown form."


    "Well I- I..."


    "Tina," Kiko extended her hand, "will you loosen up that tight butt and subdue Laurus together with us? As a team?"


    "Give me just a few more nights with him," Rubelle purred, "and he will be weak enough that even you can hold him down.


    The thought of it made her rub her thighs together.


    She grabbed Kiko''s hand. "No more infighting," she said, "we''re allies in love now."


    "Yes! Tina!" Margaret cheered.


    And they all celebrated together.


    <hr>


    After that, the dynamic changed in the bath house.


    Nominally, the plan was still to defeat the incoming monsters and lure out the Baronet, but Margaret and the others had other priorities.


    Every evening, Rubelle would take one of the girls to Laurus his room, and they would have him carnally.


    He became thinner and thinner. A slender, effeminate boy.


    Until even Sylphie noticed.


    "Laurus, what becometh of thine promise to me?" She asked him right out. "Of avenging our village. Doth that hold no meaning to thou anymore?"


    "I... Sylphie. Once the Baronet comes here, we..."


    "Look at thine self!" She shouted. "Thou art but a shadow. What doth saps thine strength such? Defeat the Baronet? Couldst thou still defeat a dryad in this state?"


    A look of deep shame crossed his face. "That''s- I''ll get better. I''ll train right up and I''ll stop with this..."


    "Laauurus..." Tina''s voice came around the corner and she jumped him, pushing him against the wall. "It''s my turn with you tonight, we''ll be sapping your strength again."


    "Thou art..." Sylphie looked at the demonic influence coloring her eyes.


    "Sylphie, it''s not what you think." Laurus said in a pleading voice.


    "Why..." she nearly sobbed, "why didst I ever trust a human?"


    And she ran off.


    "Sylphie!" He stretched his arm out at her, but Tina had him thoroughly pinned.


    -


    Not stopping to grab her things, Sylphie ran right out of the building and down the cobble path.


    There were dryads there, but they did not target her. On reflection, they never had.


    "Flying steeds, where art the flying steeds..." Sylphie looked at the gate and in the sky, but the pegasi had absconded days ago.


    Making the trek through the forest and plains would be dangerous, and who would she even run to. More humans? Humans she didn''t know?


    As she was considering this, she heard the playing of music behind her, at the bath-house.


    "Come on Virginia, don''t let me wait.


    You catholic girls start much to late.


    Sooner or or later it comes down to fate,


    I might as well will be the one~


    Honey only the die young!


    Only the good die young~"


    On top of the entrance building, protected by two hobgoblins with spears, sat a goblin with an eye-patch.


    He was playing a bulky lute and supplying percussion with his thumb ring.


    "That''s what I said.


    Only the good dieee young.


    Only the good die young."


    "Scratch." She said, "art thou here for the hot spring."


    "I''m just here for my familiar. We don''t go in there," Even after having stopped singing he hummed the lyrics to himself while talking. The hobgoblins remained silent. "we''re already quite raunchy naturally, and not as resistant to the aura of lust as you lot."


    She balled her tiny hands into fists. "''Tis a trap then. It always were."


    "Come on Virginia, show me a sign." Scratch sang.


    "Send out a signal, I''ll throw you the line.


    The stained glass window you''re hiding behind,


    never lets in the sun.


    Only the good die young!


    Only the good die young."


    "Virginia is not my name." Sylphie said.


    "What is your name?"


    "Sylphie."


    "The way I see it, Sylphie," Scratch said, "you have two options."


    "What ultimatum art thou giving me?"


    "I''m not giving you these options, I''m pointing them out. You have one future, and that is with the polycule in there. It''s your choice how you face that future. With despair, or with love."


    She nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. "Lo-ove?"


    "Is that so strange?" He didn''t look directly at her, focusing his attention on his strumming fingers now. "You love Laurus, don''t you? That''s the info I have."


    Any other day she would have gotten flustered and vehemently denied it. But she was tired now. Tired and broken. "I do. Yes."


    "This place is a gift to you. In here, you will forget why you ever needed to hide it. You and Laurus will have a future here, together... plus a few others."


    "What else will I forget?" She asked, "will I forget the loss and guilt I feel after you hath destroyed everything I ever knew?"


    He deemed her worthy to look at now. "That is the other option, despair. If you want, you can hold on to that weight forever."


    It took a moment for Sylphie to swallow the lump in her throat, and by then the tears were streaming down her face. The people she had lost stood clearly in her mind''s eye. "How could I ever let it go?"


    He smiled. "You breathe like a singer, and the winter winds will carry it out of your lungs."


    She breathed in the painfully cold night air, and then breathed out again.


    Her tears were already drying, and Laurus was inside.


    "I''d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints." Scratch sang.


    "The sinners are much more fun~"


    Laurus sounded panicked seeing her barge into the room. "S-Sylphie! Don''t look-"


    "Well done Sylphie," Rubelle said.


    "Only the good dieeee young.


    Only the good die young."


    <hr>


    "Zhen, in zhe end, zhe warriors zhat came to kill you, became dungeon guardians zhemselves." Noss concluded.


    "It''s not like they swore fealty to me, the succubus never did," Scratch sighed, "in fact. One may argue that I lost one of your boss'' prized dungeon shards to a sex cult."


    Youthere nodded, he hadn''t lost his shackles yet.


    "Och," the vampire shrugged, "vhat matter is zhat it is protected, and not in zhe hands of a rival magic user. Such as..."


    "...yeah, it''s a concern."


    They were standing inside the other quickly developed sanctum dungeon. A ball of wood and moss with a single entrance facing the witchwood.


    The green glow of the sanctum''s crystal had granted Lacrima the form of a fairy queen, and she was manic with the power.


    The three boys were looking at a beautiful ethereal woman, laughing maniacally as she floated amidst a cloud of pixies.


    "I can see everything!" She roared. "Finally, I catch a glimpse of your power."


    "Is she talking about me?" Scratch asked.


    "Vhy vould you zhink zhat? Her rivalry is vith zhe fairy queen of zhe witchwood. Zhey have been fighting over control of zhe river for days now. I trust you''ve seen zhe dryads zhat passed zhrough?"


    Scratch nodded, "then you and the other fairy queen can both ''see'' through the fairies."


    "Partly," Lacrima said, her voice sounded like many speaking in unison, "she knows there is a rival queen near her territory. She could never guess it was the lowly mortal witch she had struck down so many years ago."


    "If that''s the situation, I want you to arrange some sort of t¨ºte-a-t¨ºte. Peace negotiations."


    "Huh? Peace?" In her manic mood, the false fairy queen seemed wholly opposed to the idea.


    "An ambush. Their whole power structure is wacko. Cut off the head, and there''s no follow up, you just win."


    "Excellent thinking, master," the demon said sycophantically, "with the need to make an opposing people bend the knee, there is no need to demonstrate trustworthiness and honor. We can be as scheming and conniving as we wish! Hehehe."


    "Yeah, yeah. Okay."


    Youthere''s praise tended to be of the kind that sounds like condemnation.


    "Yeees~ I like it." Lacrima said, moving her hand through the pixie cloud, "an invitation from a peer, followed by a quick stab in the back. A fitting end! I shall arrange it at once."


    Noss looked at Scratch and Youthere both. He had recognized very well how they had chosen the most opportune time to get the witch to agree to the plan, when she was intoxicated by her transformation.


    It was, of course, not without risk to herself. If the conflict were to escalate to a queen-on-queen battle, the queen that relied on a shaky sanctum would be at a disadvantage.


    But Lacrima dying would suit Scratch as well. It was only because of her that there was a war on with fairies at all.


    The problem was this: Noss had come to like Lacrima now. She was a fellow magic enthusiast.


    "She better live." He said.


    "What was that?"


    Suddenly, the sanctum light flickered out, and Lacrima shriveled up to her human form again. The pixies exploded outwards and nestled into the wooden framework around them.


    "Agh! There''s a poison ent that got through."


    "Laurus'' girls will take care of it." Scratch said. "Come, eat something. I''ve brought Quiet''s bread."


    -


    "You may be dishonorable, Scratch," Lacrima said, as she eagerly devoured the buns and cheese, "but you have a caring soul. I had forgotten how long I''d gone without food."


    "My master did not come out here purely for your sake," Youthere said, coming to the defense of his master''s dishonor, "we are here to receive the new batch of broodmothers."


    "A new batch?"


    "The colonies used to be led by members of the bandit group. But the outer regions haven''t been doing to well. Not enough food produced, massive casualties from all these wars. Now that it''s a bit safer, and before the next sowing season, we''re replacing the ones we lost."


    "And vho are zhese vomen zhat are coming to replace zhem? Villing broodmothers?" Noss asked.


    "Desperate exiles, send by the thieves'' guild. Just like those from our camp. Their interests align with ours, there should be no conflict."


    "Or so he says," Youthere straightened his back, "after my success with the harem, I have convinced the master to take in my counsel in this matter as well. These women have no loyalty towards the Harkness woman, so I am here, to detect the ambitious ones."


    "Vell," Noss played with the bread he couldn''t eat, then suddenly retracted his finger, there was garlic in it, "if you vant to send away zhe ambitious ones-"


    "The ambitious ones are the ones we want to keep." Scratch said. "Women that see motherhood as an opportunity, not as a prison. But anyway... we ended up with neither. All we got was loonies."


    "Vhat do you mean?"


    "Every single one of them was a messenger." He retrieved a dagger from her sleeve and threw it on the ground, there was a note attached.


    Lacrima recognized it. "The Liege''s calling card! So they were shadow bandits."


    "It''s on the edge of the territory to," Scratch complained, "so we had to dispose of the bodies before somebody saw. Felix and Jasper are still busy."


    "What does the note say?" She insisted.


    "I dunno. It''s some sort of call-out?"


    <hr>


    Gild Cavern


    Size: Medium


    Threat Level: C


    Realm: Reddington


    The entrance to the gild cavern lies in the hinterlands of the Kinsey county. The dungeon was once a goldmine sponsored by the Kinsey count family, and still bears their name and insignia.


    The dungeon consists of two floors: the mine, and the scales.


    Immediately upon entrance, adventurers will find themselves in the mine. Where they must do battle with magibats, dazzlesnakes, and digger moles. There are no trap mechanisms in this dungeon, but the tunnels can sometimes cave in.


    Having braved the mine, adventurers must pass through the scales.


    All the treasures of the dungeon are stored in the scales, but no party so far has been able to retrieve all of it.


    In order to grab gold from the moving platform, adventurers must stake the life of a party member on the counterbalancing platform. When doing so, adventurers are often overtaken my the aura of gold rush that permeates the dungeon, and become unable to stop filling their pockets, until their ally is destroyed. Adventurers that never stop collecting gold eventually disappear into the scales level, becoming one with its monstrous population.


    In order to get to the core of the gild cavern, an adventurer must be pure of heart and without greed.


    The dungeon has not yet been conquered.

 Delegation

    In the witch''s hut at the underground shoreline there were two whole walls filled with books.


    Two bookshelves, taking up all possible space, and not even having enough room store the various tomes and scriptures spilling over onto the desk and bed.


    They were magical books. Catalogues of powerful spells and mystical lifeforms, maps of the celestial plane, and anatomical drawings of fairy creatures.


    Among all this knowledge, there was only one work of fiction.


    A pocket sized romance novel, would fill her with great shame to be known to possess.


    Somehow, during her frenzied searching for the right tome, when she had upended her personal library, Scratch had managed to pick out just this pulp booklet.


    He was now supine, rifling through it on one of the emptied out shelves. "Do you read a lot of stories, Lacrima?" He asked.


    The witch snatched at the book with her wrinkled hands, but he moved it out of reach. "I don''t have time for such things, dearie," she said in her faux-sweet tone, "I am too busy with the will of the goddess. Now, if you would come down from there..."


    "I was just thinking... if you read a story, and it was about yourself, you wouldn''t assume you were fictional yourself, would you? You''d think somebody heard your life''s story, and wrote it down."


    "Yes. And?" Her sweet demeanor quickly evaporated.


    "Even if it included your most private moments, the most logical conclusion would be that you were being spied upon."


    A monstrous bat climbed down from the shelf above and looked at the book he had in his hands. "I do not zhink zhis story of zhe elven princess is about you."


    Now Lacrima was able to snatch it. "Enough of this tomfoolery, I have the eternal shapes right here, please do take a look at them."


    -


    Splayed out on the desk was a tome about the size of man''s torso, it had been turned to a page somewhere in the middle, showing no text but a series of constellations and concentric circles.


    It took Scratch a minute to even articulate his confusion. "Yo. What am I looking at?"


    Noss assumed his human form once again. "Did you zhink transformation magic vorked purely by spell alone? If a spell could rearrange a man''s flesh and skin, ve vould not use it to turn him into a frog, ve vould simply kill him by turning him inside out."


    Scratch pinched the bridge of his nose. "Silly me?"


    Lacrima tapped the page. "My petrification spell imposes the eternal shape of stone upon a form, so they become as stone. It is a spell given to humanity by the god of Earth, Geros, so it uses one of his shapes."


    "Dark sorcerers take zhe spells of zhe gods, and alter zhem. Zhat''s how ve can create new spells and curses zhat petrify. But ve can not arbitrarily access any shape ve like."


    "As a witch," Lacrima explained, "it is my legal duty to prevent knowledge such as this from falling into the hand of dark sorcerers. But since the goddess of magic, Guth herself, has sanctioned this partnership..."


    "Oh," Scratch had a sudden epiphany, "so these shapes are the elements of magic you were talking about earlier. You know, when you summon fire, or stone out of nowhere."


    "No, dearie."


    "Zhat has nozhing to do vith it."


    "Hmm." He leaned back again.


    "Now then," Lacrima turned back to the page, "using the power of a dungeon, we can keep someone in a shape we like forever."


    "But zhey are still zhemselves, zheir inherent divinity can only go so far." Noss said, "so zhey can not more powerful zhan zhey had zhe potential to be in zhe first place."


    "Nor can their potential be removed," she said, "if one were permanently petrified, they could eventually will themselves to be able to walk again.


    And a prince turned into a frog could train to achieve immense power."


    "I don''t believe there is such a thing as power," Scratch said, "it''s all situational."


    "Zhat is a stupid zhing to believe."


    "Nonetheless, we kill our prince quickly, and there won''t be any frog lifting done. We''ll just be done with it."


    Lacrima nodded, "that is, if we can act that quickly. There is an armistice now, but we can''t rely on the fairy queen having her guard down forever.


    "Zhere." Noss pointed at the page. "Zhat one."


    "I see... perfect."


    <hr>


    "So they pretty much had it figured out without me. I don''t know why they even invited me." Scratch relayed, while scraping off the dried out layer of an old scone with his teeth.


    "Perhaps they mistook you for a leader." Barbara said.


    "Hey shut up, so what are you doing about the liquidations in the in-land cities?"


    They were inside Barbara''s personal estate. A two story living apartment above the shop where she could keep an eye on the warehouses and storage lots.


    It wasn''t fancy per-se. But it had all the amenities of a well-off peasant home in Eston, including toiletry and multiple hearths, and some silky materials even the Harkness manor didn''t have.


    It was clear that he had made himself at home. He made a quiet note to schedule all future scheming arrangements at her place.


    "About the Liege having potion dealers killed? Am I supposed to do something?"


    "You wanted to be in charge of the Thieves'' Guild, didn''t you?"


    "Yes, but..." she scratched her head, "what can I do? We don''t have shadow bandits. We don''t even really have the dealers themselves. They have no loyalty to us, we sell them the product."


    "So you say," he put the confectionery away and licked the crumbs off his fingers before handling paperwork, "there''s pros and cons to that."


    He handed her a piece of paper and she looked at it. "What''s this?"


    "It''s a cost estimation. Us versus them, I''m teaching the kids math, y''see. It''s a practicing exercise."


    The crude handwriting showed sums and multiplications, not lined out neatly in a row but scratched harshly at various sizes and directions. At the bottom, a few numbers were outlined.


    "Were are you basing this on?"


    Scratch put the smoking bluegrass cigar into his mouth. "I have my sources."


    But where-"


    "Barb. I have my sources. Now tell me what you see- No, never mind, I''ll just say it. The Liege is bleeding gold on this gang war. We''re losing some on equity, but still, we''re in the plus."


    Barbara frowned trying to make sense of the shoddy homework. "Their side does not generate income while fighting, and he is paying them directly. While our dealers work for themselves... so we can keep this up forever."


    "Ah-" Scratch took out his cigar, "not quite. This culture of fear is hurting our market, and the enemy might decide to take some radical action against us as well. I need some ideas to stabilize the situation."


    "...What are these?"


    "Those are the names and addresses of several commanding officers for the Liege''s crime empire." Scratch said, Cyclophan was uniquely qualified for discovering the double life of an enemy faction, they would lie about it constantly. "We could leak these to our friends in law enforcement..."


    Barbara shook her head and threw the stack back on the coffee table. "If we use the knights to remove another business, nobody in the entire underworld will ever work with us again."


    "I was afraid of that. You''d think a crime syndicate would be free of irrational sentiment, but they never seem to."


    She looked up in surprise. "Irrational? It''s not just principles you know, if the thieves'' guild started involving knights into its squabbles, the whole thing would be over in a month. There''d be nobody standing but the last snitch and his last few coins of snitch money... and they''d arrest him too."


    "Uh-huh. Well we can''t put a hit on them either, too high profile, too much... firepower."


    "You''re saying they''re more powerful."


    "They certainly have the violence advantage."


    She pouted. "A deal then?"


    "Well," he showed her the note that had come with the ominous dagger, "I don''t get the idea that this guy would be content with anything less than the whole dungeon itself."


    -


    "The Liege has claimed this one''s heart. Submit to the shadows, or die. Such is the fate of all things in the dark."


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    -


    "The stooge guildmaster that tried to sing us to sleep had mentioned something like this before," Scratch said as she read the note. "His master wants a monopoly on powerful magic. So it''s not just about having a dungeon core, it''s about nobody else having any."


    "I take it he doesn''t know about all the other fragments of the second segment littered around the place then." She said.


    "Common wisdom severely understates the number of dungeon cores, it seems."


    "Oh! I''ve got it!" Barbara snapped her fingers. "He wants the dungeon core? Well it''s under protection of the Ravenous Lich. Ritter will defend it for you."


    "No no no!" Scratch held out his arms and vehemently shook his head. "Our whole relationship with the lich is making sure he uses his power on our behalf as little as possible. We can''t fly below the radar anymore if death spires keep appearing. I promised him I''d take in the vampire boy and that I- that you could deal with the thieves'' guild if he wouldn''t turn this place into zombie Chernobyl. Besides..." he leaned over the table conspiratorially, "between Ritter and Kato Ken, I''m not sure if the bone-yard would win."


    Although there was nobody there to listen in on the conversation, Barbara leaned in to whisper just like he had. "What do you mean? That''s the Liege''s name?"


    "You know the blonde that came by to knight me? She knows him. He''s an old soul like her."


    "An old soul? Is that a race of people?"


    Scratch shook his head. "Kato Ken currently has the body of a vampiric dark elf. He has not payed us special attention as his operations are spread over the entire continent."


    "But he can''t be that powerful, can he?"


    Scratch leaned back. "Can he? Beatrice seems to believe he has it in him to destroy the world."


    Barbara tapped the top of the coffee table with her fingers, not really willing to believe it. "If the entire world is at stake... even the likes of us have to try to stop him."


    "Yeah," Scratch grabbed another scone, "so you better think of something soon."


    <hr>


    The underground cavern was opposite to everything faerie.


    The steel filled up all space, a right-angled web of girders, platforms, and various contraptions, with no greenery.


    There was no sunlight to nourish any, as the only light came from orange sparks of heated metal, casting crooked shadow upon the web.


    There was a constant cacophony of industry. Forges blazed, machines whirled, and the bounty from the earth was beaten into submission with a rhythmic clankity-clang-clang.


    The fairy queen was overwhelmed and disoriented by the surroundings. She despised them.


    Yet it took more than an hour to rush through the goblin factory, flying as she did.


    The web had grown into a disorderly labyrinth, a dense mesh of assorted contraptions leading into all sorts of dead ends.


    Though she usually took care not to show mortals signs of vulnerability, the queen breathed a sigh of relief having reached the cavern floor. This place was the source of the noxious fumes that threatened her kind.


    At the edges of the chaos, in the silent dark, there were other things still. Things that had lived there before the darkness, and that knew of no light of the sun or forge. But she banished them from her presence, and continued on to the lair of her rival.


    -


    A fairy queen''s senses are her spawn.


    The humanoid body contains weak, human-level, eyes and ears, but mostly serves just to contain the organs of her magic.


    Sight. Sound. Smell. Even Touch. These were things relayed to her through the countless tiny interactions of pixies with the environment.


    Below her, in the underworld, she could see a pleasant field of grass in the shade. She could hear a buzzing of small detritus feeders and gentle breeze. She could smell the fertilizer nourishing the plants, and touch their vibrant leaves.


    Although it was simple nature, it much more seemed like the home of another fairy queen than the caverns above it.


    The pixies fretted around the field, swirling around the trolls, as the queen glided down onto the ground.


    The other spoke to her.


    It was the speech only fairies know. Not of sight or sound, but through the ethereal medium of invisible light.


    Although she was close now, it was a weak signal. A paltry challenge by a lesser queen.


    The greater queen released a ''scream'' of invisible light, and the pixies spun around their cores at the erratic signal, she then rushed forward to meet her opponent.


    There would be no negotiation. The enemy was weaker, and disgustingly tolerant of pollution. She would simply kill her and reclaim her nature.


    -


    There was a stretch of scorching hot light between the field and the origin of the signal, but the greater queen could tolerate it in her violent mood.


    The pixies were left behind and she relied on her eyes now. They stung from the light, but she could see just fine.


    And what she saw was a pit in the sand. Much wider than it was deep, but noticeably deep.


    On the sandy floor, a shivering and weak lesser queen sat.


    What sparse fairy spawn she controlled was quickly taken out by the greater queen''s greater signal.


    She hissed.


    The enemy hissed back.


    The fight was on.


    <hr>


    It was the first time Liorin had felt a breeze in her hair while at home.


    The sheer power of the fairies agitated and swirled the air in the underworld. At her perch on top of the house she could just about make out the floating green ribbons around the fairy queen way into the desert.


    Not so long ago, the goblin patriarch had presented them with the hole in the desert. It''s where they had buried the mysterious magical treasure that the cable cart had been invented to transport.


    It was a few man-heights deep, and now with a protective castle-like wall around it. The metal supports of the wall extended past the stone and arched over top into an ominous birdcage design. Dark sorcery was surely involved.


    Now a bona-fide fairy queen was floating through the blasted heat, agitating the air, towards that very spot.


    On the other side of her, the trolls in the field were in a frenzy, driven mad by the pestering pixies and the unfamiliar situation. They had grown used to a peaceful existence within the pleasant greenery, and were mostly tame. The elves had even gone among them on quiet days and not sustained any injury. Not any physical injury at least. Some would say the monsters'' mere presence could be perceived as traumatic.


    But now, they were raging berserkers.


    "Liorin! Get back inside!" Farith yelled at her through the roaring winds.


    She ignored her, the hobgoblins were here.


    Will waved at her, and she waved back. She then quickly descended from her house and ran up to the group.


    "What doth be this spectacle!?" She asked.


    "Fairy queen!" Will shouted over the storm. "We''re going to defeat her!"


    "Let me follow thee." She asked.


    "No, it''s dangerous. Like a whole battle!"


    "We''re already late, let''s go!" Ada demanded.


    But Will took the time to rebuff Liorin.


    "I have brought protection from the sunstone!" She showed the constructs of wood and cloth she had been clutching in her hand.


    "What''s that?"


    "Wouldst thee take me along, thou wouldst find out."


    -


    They were parasols. Handcrafted and not much smaller than an umbrella.


    Liorin had carved the wood of one of their decorative garden trees into smooth grips and spanned the cloth of an old curtain over a similar wooden framework, so that they could hold portable shade over their head.


    One parasol provided shade for two, so Liorin shared hers with Will.


    But the closer to the pit they got, the more wind the things caught.


    When they were close enough to hear the hissing of the fairy goddesses, Will''s hand could keep its grip anymore and it flew away into a new life as airborne kite.


    "Oh! Sorry!" He yelled, having lost her gift to him.


    "Be at ease, it were a trivial thing. Tell me, who art these women?"


    Will saw his brothers and sister already running up to the spires that caged the arena. "I can''t talk. Stay here!" He ran off to join them.


    -


    The pit was a trap.


    Before the hobgoblins had rushed on stage, the patriarch and his helpers had already kept busy hoisting a spiked net over the bird cage structure. To prevent flight out of the arena.


    Liorin had no intention of staying put.


    She climbed after Will, following his movements just behind on the thick metal stem.


    It was an unnatural way of climbing, that could only come about on unnatural structures.


    The steel pillar had no handholds, so they found their grip by pressing their hands against either side using all their strength. And they launched themselves forward using their feet, letting go of the vice grip and throwing their arms forward to press against the next spot. And so they bounded upwards like tiny trolls.


    It was the most strenuous activity Liorin had ever performed, and she quickly let go once she could put her feet on the stone wall.


    Peeking downwards, through the spiked net as she did, she was surprised.


    It had been cleaned up and build over, the structure now descending into the pit to keep out the walls of sand, and the tiled with cut boulders around the small hole in the center.


    Fighting inside this arena were not one, but two fairy queens.


    They were exchanging flashes of green light, such as only fairies fight.


    They were both massive beings, semi-divine in an earthly way. But they could be told apart by their clothing.


    One was clad in the fabrics of humanity, while the other was draped in the wispy green linens she had seen floating before.


    It made the former seem like a weak imitation. A mimicry of the true queen.


    And it seemed only natural that the goblins were supporting the imitation in the battle.


    Crossbow bolts and rope projectiles were flung at the true queen, distracting her if nothing else.


    And yet, this ganging up did not sway the fight into one direction.


    Liorin''s hands grasped the rope of the net as she followed the circling flight of the queens. She found herself rooting for the true queen, who had everything against her, but who had a grace and dignity to her, and a wistful connection to the forests she had left behind.


    She looked up.


    The hobgoblins, having reached the top of the cage, were securing the net, and fiddling with the top.


    If that really were enough to hold her in, the fight would be immaterial, just another distraction.


    Having just stricken her enemy to the floor, the true queen became aware of her surroundings and screamed like a banshee.


    Now free from the interfering commands of the false queen, the pixies rushed in.


    There weren''t many that had crossed the blasting heat in such a short time. But those that had were a right menace to the hobgoblins perched precariously on the cupola''s peak.


    Rather than preserve their balance, it was the hobgoblins'' first nature to swat and fight back.


    But the advantage of flight was not so easily overcome, and they they were toppled one by one.


    It was then that Liorin saw will fall not just onto the steel, but off it, grasping just at the stinging rope to avoid falling to his death.


    Gone was the notion of rooting for anybody. She kicked off her shoes and put her sole onto the rough metal, her skin finding foothold on friction alone.


    She climbed like she had in her time in the forest, running up the bark of a tree with nothing but grip and momentum.


    As she gained speed and the girder bended inwards she could let go with her hands and run upwards with just her feet.


    She then let herself fall flat onto the metal to extend her arm towards the hobgoblin in the nets.


    Their eyes met.


    Instead of mortal terror, he displayed a puppy-like glee at seeing her and grabbed her arm.


    Then his expression dropped.


    From underneath, the arm of the true fairy queen gripped around his leg as she pulled at him while launching herself into the sharp of the net.


    Will''s grip slipped, and Liorin''s tightened in response, for a minute imagining that her strength could outweigh that of a fairy queen, if she wanted it hard enough.


    The queen''s visage contorted into a hateful grimace, and kept contorting, further and further.


    A sound like she had never made before erupted from her throat, bestial and confused.


    While they had wrestled over the floundering hobgoblin, the other hobgoblins had wrestled the spell crystal in place.


    The same power that had made a fairy queen out of the witch, was now focused on making something completely different out of the fairy queen.


    Her skin changed colour, and her neck stretched out, her head stretched out into a crested dragon maw, and her hand lost its gripping shape.


    Will was able to wrestle himself loose from the paw and pulled himself up the girder. "We did it! We-"


    Liorin interrupted him with a kiss on the lips.


    Meanwhile, the former fairy began to sank, and then to fall, towards the stone.


    She had already grown much beyond her former size, but her fairy wings had atrophied.


    The pixies had stopped following her command now, and were drifting aimlessly.


    Their transformed queen blared a metallic roar through her long neck, but no human emotion could be read on her draconic face.


    A massive dinosaur of a creature got up, balancing on four feet instead of two and with no wings.


    It bashed against the sides of the pit, but it had all the weight of the desert''s sand to contest with.


    She was trapped.


    "A dragon to protect the dungeon core." Liorin said. "That''s what it is, isn''t it?"


    The hobgoblins looked at each other hesitantly, but Will pulled her closer to him protectively. "Yeah."


    <hr>


    Earth Dragon


    Family: Dragon


    Threat Level: B


    Reward: 2000 gold


    An adult earth dragon is 80 meters tall, and 200 meters long, surpassed in size among its family only by the storm dragon. It can be recognized by its yellow and orange scales and distinctive roar. It does not have any wings whatsoever.


    Habitats of earth dragons on the overworld are clearly marked on the world map, and must be avoided in order to prevent agitating them, as earth dragons are fiercely territorial. Adventurers that agitate an earth dragon, without being able to defeat it, are fined for a portion of the slaying reward.


    Earth dragons remain earthbound at all times, as they do not have the ability to fly. They fight using physical attacks and sonic breath. However, one cannot simply defeat an earth dragon by using flight to stay out of its range, as most of its body is protected by impenetrable shell.


    Only the the belly of the earth dragon is vulnerable to damage, and adventurers must approach the deadliest part of its range in order to damage it.


    Earth dragons contain many useful ingredients, all of which are restricted goods and may only be sold to guild shopkeepers.


    An earth dragon throat is a highly prized rare item, and earth dragon scales are used to create the most powerful armor known to man.

 A Magical Light

    "Zhis is taking more time zhan I had anticipated." The vampire complained.


    "Hey, all of this was your idea," Scratch sputtered, trying to climb down the precarious honey grate.


    The dungeon they were visiting had the character of porous rock. Bubbles of air tiled the waxy material, and connected together into a giant beehive.


    While the vampire possessed the power of flight, the goblin had to clamber clumsily over the vines and lichen that lined the rock.


    In omnipresent the greenery and diffuse ambient light it was easy to confuse up from down. It was easy to look at the expanse of leafy planes stretching out in front of him and forget that it was a miles deep chasm that he could fall into.


    As a goblin''s self preservation instinct is naturally suppressed, Scratch had made the decision to be calculating and deliberate about his actions.


    Finally finding solid ground for his feet, he could free up his arms to swat at the pixies buzzing around his face. "Pests! Even without a fairy queen they''re a nuisance."


    There were more fairy creatures than just pixies hiding in the vibrant green bushes. Hunched creatures in mossy coats, fluttering dandelion creatures, and plenty of animal flower hybrids.


    "You must believe me, zhat zhey are a lot more peaceful zhan if zhe dungeon master had deemed us intruders."


    "Yeah. Is there any hope of us meeting this dungeon master today, or what? Cause I actually have stuff to do you know."


    "Ve vere supposed to meet at zhe second gate around sundown. I do not zhink ve can make it in time, perhaps he vill move out to meet-"


    There was a rumbling and grinding of stone.


    "Ah! Zhere he is."


    Scratch nearly fell over seeing the avalanche of a creature that had just snuck up on him.


    It was a snake.


    Its head was just large enough to fit between the gaps between rooms, touching the edge at all sides.


    Through the network of negative space below them, the snake body was coiled. Endlessly swirling and overlapping so that they could not see the end.


    All over its body were green scales that looked like sculpted jade, but there were naked spots around the eyes and belly that were plain black.


    The hive rumbled and it moved again.


    The boys jumped aside not to get run over as the enormous snake body slid smoothly through the holes.


    It curved around and stuck in its head from a different angle.


    Then it opened its maw, and a faint squeaky sound came out.


    Noss gestured for Scratch to come closer.


    The squeaks were a voice. A tiny critter voice that they had to almost stick their head into the maw to hear.


    Scratch could get a good look at the many rows of shark teeth in the snake''s mouth as it spoke to them.


    "Omigosh, hi! I''m supderduper excited to meet another friend of mister Ritter''s, sir."


    "You''re the dungeon master?" Scratch asked.


    "Yepyepyep," came the voice from deep within the reptile, "it was me that found the wyrm shard you see. While I was digging my tunnels you see.


    And mister Ritter said I could take care of it you see?"


    "Nothophis is part of zhe dungeon," Noss explained, "he has swallowed zhe dungeon core and become part of zhe stem itself."


    "Yup! You can look if you want." Nothophis threw up its enormous maw and gaped its throat, displaying a way down into its inside.


    "Uhm, zhat von''t be necessary."


    "Yeah, no thanks."


    The mouth relaxed a bit, but didn''t close all the way.


    "Omigosh. Was that a bad thing to say?" It squeaked.


    "Tell you what," Scratch changed the subject, "we won''t make it through all of the wonders of your honey-grate before midnight. So how about you tell us about them instead?"


    "Oh! Sure! Mister Fleder said you ate a fairy queen and you wanted to know how to use her spawn. Didn''t you mister Fleder?"


    "Well, we didn''t really eat it. We turned it into a dragon."


    "Yes." It said.


    "..."


    "..."


    After it became clear neither had a follow-up, Nothophis continued. "Only the fairy queen can control fairies, mister. She''s their mommy, you see? Fairies can''t make babies, so they protect their queen and she makes the next generation of fairies. That''s why- you will have seen this- that''s why pixies only do what the queen says. Either that or protect the feybloom."


    As it spoke, the serpent''s mouth was invaded by disparate flying humanoids, who rooted between the teeth and fished out rocks and bone shards.


    They were cleaning his teeth.


    "Do not keep zhe boy in such suspense much longer, Nothophis. Zhese pixies seem to obey you vith zhe utmost diligence. Tell us your secret zhen."


    "No sir. I mean yes sir. But it''s because I''m a grootslang, you see. So I leak these curses, you see." It shuddered its scales, releasing something invisible and odorless into the air, "The pixies simply obey me because I can control their mind via magic. That won''t work for you I''m afraid. You can''t control all of them with a sorcerous incantation. What you need is the fairy light. That''s how the queen instructs her spawn, and they are predisposed to obeying it you see."


    Scratch nodded. "We have a way to do that."


    "Zhe vitch of Eston, Lacrima. She is a vonderfully ambitious woman," Noss added, "and vields transformation magic to become a fairy queen herself."


    "That''s splendid! Do you trust her?"


    Noss nodded. "Yes."


    "Weeelll~" Scratch picked at the insides of the teeth. "Not really."


    "Oh. But she is loyal to mister Ritter, right?"


    Scratch shook his head. Then, realizing there were no eyes inside the snake''s mouth he said out loud. "Not even slightly."


    "Scratch, miss Lacrima is one of your most valuable assets." Noss protested.


    "Lacrima has been a liability from the start. She has commandeered the cavern by herself, threatening us to supply her with the resources she needed. She''s the one that got us into conflict with the fairies in the first place. I managed to squeeze some support out of her by way of protecting her investment, but fundamentally, our needs are not aligned. It''s only a matter of time before one of us double-crosses the other."


    "I should have known. Zhat battle between Lacrima and zhe queen, you meant for her to lose, didn''t you?"


    Scratch gestured for him to ease his mind. "I set it up so either outcome would benefit us."


    "Oh mister Scratch, that''s a big problem," Nothophis said, "if you don''t trust your fairy minder. If she turns on you, you will have to fight all of them again you see. And if you don''t have her, they will eventually find their true queen you see. She''s a dragon? Part of the dungeon?"


    "An earth dragon, trapped in a pit. It''s a sturdy fort and it can''t get out, but Cyclophan can''t pacify it for some reason."


    "Nonono, that he can''t. A fairy queen will have the blessing of Geros, god of earth. Your sanctum might be able to override her form with enough strength, but an evil god can not corrupt an unblemished mind you know. Without a replacement queen, the pixies will eventually find her, and they will send mantis knights and boggarts to free her of her baleful polymorph. I suggest you find some other way to produce the fairy light."


    After receiving their advice from the fellow dungeon master, the boys were soon back at the Promise, at the teleportation circle deep within the underground foundry.


    "Why is every new dungeon you show me filled with more nightmarish creatures than the last?" Scratch complained while the portcullis was being hoisted.


    "A dungeon *should* be a nightmare to zhose zhat vould invade its bowels." Noss said decidedly. "Are you really planning to assassinate Lacrima?"


    "No, not actively. I''m just saying... we should keep the option open at all times. She''s wiley you know. But things are complicated by the meddling of that goddess person."


    "...Vhat?"


    "Oh, was that supposed to be a secret?"


    Noss looked at him with a troublesome expression, unsure if whether he was joking.


    The was a clanging noise as the portcullis was fixed into place by the attending troll and they walked outside.


    "I actually have business with Lacrima in about... half an hour ago. We''ll keep this confidential okay? Let''s say... clearance level 5. In the meantime, you''re our magic expert, try to find a way to produce fairy light without a queen."


    <hr>


    Scratch had almost forgotten his own cynical words regarding the witch when he came into her underground abode.


    "Papa Scratch!" She nearly screamed, so that he very much began to think Noss had spread his nasty accusation to her ears.


    "What!?"


    "You would keep a goddess waiting!" The source of her anger was the matte gray statue of Guth, goddess of magic, that had once again come alive, and had been made to wait on top of her socket.


    So you saw fit to join us at last.


    "Oh... this again."


    You lack deference, goblin, but I shall be forgiving. For you have followed my will and bequeathed upon my servant the lands of fey.


    Scratch held his tongue, mainly the thoughtless comment that he had not bequeathed anybody with anything, yet.


    Henceforth, your people shall be blessed by the goddess of magic.


    "Just like that?"


    Aye. Blessed you are.


    "I don''t feel any different."


    Ah- No, uh.. her auguste manner faltered for a second, what I meant is that from now on, you may receive my blessing. That is my decree.


    "My goddess," Lacrima cried out. She was on her knees, her forehead pressed against the floor, "I shall retrieve the charms of the wiccan baptism. He shall be the first of his kind to take you in."


    The statue nodded sagely.


    "Hey, wait up. This doesn''t require conversion to any religion, does it?" Scratch protested, "cause, you know, I have previous commitments."


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    One may follow and receive the blessings of many gods. Unlike Benesant, I will not begrudge you the pact you have with the fragment of Malsidious, or with the lich that serves his memory.


    "Super. So what''s the deal with you and Benesant anyway? Are you sisters? Got like a sibling rivalry going on?"


    Mind yourself Scratch, remember that you are in the presence of a goddess.


    He waved his arms in a disarming manner. "Yeah, with due deference. I''m really wowed by the miracle, I really am. But I feel that... if I''m gonna be a pawn in some greater conflict, I should at least know about it. What about the other old souls? Did Bennie bring those here as well? Was it someone else?"


    I- I don''t know what you''re talking about. None of the gods are reincarnating anybody.


    "Oh, come on."


    Di-dismissed.


    Guth''s panicked manner disappeared and she righted her body and face into a motherly serenity. The statue had returned to its natural state.


    Lacrima reached out an angry claw and spun Scratch by the shoulder. "Obscene little man!"


    "Don''t you think that, if she really didn''t know what I was talking about, she would have questioned me about them?"


    He grip loosened.


    "Your goddess is keeping secrets from you." He tapped the side of his nose. "Well, that''s a god''s prerogative I suppose. Show me that baptism charm."


    -


    But before Lacrima was willing to confer the blessing of Guth onto Scratch, she had to have an audience.


    It was a cultural ritual as much as it was a magical one.


    Making the baptism a formal event delayed it by several days, as schedules were aligned.


    There were representatives from the thieves'' guild, the bandit camp, the cavern workers, and the goblin colonies gathered around the witches hut when she was finally satisfied.


    "If my father could see this. He''d have a conniption." Lydia whispered in Scratch''s ear. "He might actually have tried to kill you."


    He laughed. "Even Lacrima wouldn''t-"


    But she nodded in confirmation. "I had to intervene."


    He wanted to impress upon her how insane that was, when he heard Lacrima begin her proceedings without him.


    "Since the creation of this world, there have been witches!" She began, "daughters of Guth, we are. And heirs to the mystical arts!" She beckoned for her apprentice to hand her the sacred items, and both Noss and Alpheba took it as their cue, bumping into each other.


    "Every witch child receives the secret words, under the cover of night. But today, that secret will be laid bare to you all, as the goblins of the


    Promise are adopted as her children," she continued unperturbed, "and you all, will be the black mass that bears witness to their rebirth."


    Alpheba handed her an unsmooth, glistening wet rock.


    "Scratch!" She summoned him, and the apprentice dragged him towards the center.


    He was center stage now, the focus of attention. But not in the way he usually was, this time he was the prop. This time he had no knowledge or control over how the ceremony could unfold.


    The human audience members were crossing their arms now. The grave speech by the venerable woman had set the expectation high for sorcerous spectacle.


    Lacrima squeezed the toadstone and water dripped out. She encircle the ground beneath his feet with drips of water and then splashed his forehead.


    Scratch gave the audience an irreverent toothless smile at being given a cold shower in front of them. Then the witch smacked him violently in the face with her palm.


    Stars appeared in front of his eyes, and then exploded over his vision.


    "Agh!" He covered his eyes, but he could still see.


    Through his eyelids and the many tons of rock above him, he could see the points of light that were the stars. He could see the moon, not as a white circle, but as an intricate clockwork of runic circles and flowing energy, and countless strings flowing down, connected to the earth''s surface.


    Looking around, the whole cavern was filled with lines and circles now. Green and white light drawing the contours on buildings and people.


    The audience was cluttered with neon, shackling their wrists, flowing below their feet and through their clothing.


    "That''s it?" Asked someone, it was Aimone, the southerner.


    "The effects of a blessing are not visible to an outsider." Alpheba preached in a snooty tone of voice.


    "Managgia, some witnesses we are."


    Scratch wasn''t listening, there was an enormous coiling river floating above him.


    From the opening into the sear, and from the elevator shaft, towards the waterway into the troll garden, a vortex of magical light led. Exactly down the middle between the edges of the cave.


    "What''s he doing?" Alpheba asked.


    "He''s looking at zhe dungeon stem," Noss said, "it''s his first time seeing it."


    He had wandered away from the crowd, which was more entertained by the southener''s arguments with the witch than with his invisible sights.


    "Zhis is zhe source of your power," Noss explained, "zhat flow is vhat powers all of zhe dungeon''s magic."


    "The purpose of her gift is not the study of dungeons, it''s the perception of all magic." Alpheba insisted, "look at us."


    He did, but he regretted it.


    Instead of the witch apprentice''s face, he saw the transparent outline of a seething mad direwolf.


    "Ah!" He fell over again, expecting to be crushed between its jaws instantaneously.


    But it was the werewolf curse that she carried within her. It eyed him evilly, but could not manifest itself.


    Alpheba suppressed a faint offense at being looked at as a monster like that, and extended her hand to help him up.


    Noss looked even more evil to his new eyes.


    There was something huge inside him, waiting to manifest.


    Besides the monstrous bat, besides the human form, there was the unrealized bloodrise form, taking up physical space in the room.


    "You can see our curses," Alpheba said. "Look, you have Grootslang curses clinging to you right now."


    And he did. Tiny particles of light staining his outdoor clothing.


    "Such zhings are best zhrown avay. Very hard to clean."


    Lydia came rushing over to them. "Scratch? Are you alright?" She asked.


    "I don''t know... I thought I was just installing a firewall. I didn''t expect... to see..."


    Lydia had been infected with the werewolf curse, just like Alpheba. But her spirit was the allied windwolf Wendy.


    The two hadn''t fought for control. And as such, their minds had begun to meld.


    Rather than the spirit of the wolf attaching to her body like a siamese twin, it looked now as if their features extended into each other.


    Her proper haircut extended into a wild mane. Her eyes lengthened besides her face into piercing almond shapes. And the arm with with she touched him as she bend over him had extended claws.


    "To see such things..." he said, stunned.


    "What have you done to him?" Lydia asked accusingly.


    "With time, you will develop the ability to look at things as if the magic isn''t there." Alpheba sighed, "it''s a trick of the mind that witches learn. Although... my master and I were blessed at a very young age..."


    "I am a pureblood," Noss said, "I vas born vith zhe sight."


    "Do you wish to let scarywitch.exe make changes to your device?" Scratch murmured to himself, "please read the fine print before you click agree. Christ..."


    <hr>


    So. You''ve replaced me.


    Don''t be so dramatic.


    After all I''ve done for you. After I''ve been such an acquiescent god to you.


    Hey now. You are not my god, and neither is Guth. I never agreed to worship anybody, remember? We are businessmen, we make partnerships.


    Scratch was communing with Cyclophan, evil god of Deceit and Trickery, during his visit to the colonies.


    At first, he had spread the blessing himself. But Ada had gotten confident with the toadstone, and had been promoted to master of ceremonies.


    The goblins were being blessed en masse.


    You have reached a tribe not connected to the sewer system, so my dungeon does not extend to here.


    I can see that.


    The raked dirt and straw showed no sign of the magical flowing energies of the dungeon. It was almost like they were standing in a perfectly mundane tribal village. It reminded him of the early days of what would one day become the Promise.


    How many of those boys were still alive? Just Quiet and Second?


    What a wild two years it had been.


    Did you ever find out why Guth wanted her follower to control the witchwood?


    No. She didn''t mention the shards at least.


    If there is genuine power in that place, she may decide she won''t need you anymore.


    Do you think I don''t know that!? Who is the people manager over here?


    Let''s just say I''ve seen my fair share of betrayals.


    Scratch bit down on his cigar. In that case, what do you think of this new blood over here?


    The broodmother of the colony was a recent import from a far-off bandit city. A poor woman that had been sold as a broodmother to the goblin nation and had nowhere else to go. If she had bared children, it couldn''t have been more than one or two litters at this point.


    Most of the goblins in the hamlet had seen broodmothers come and go. Some where even older, from before the Promise.


    The current matriarch had been given the comfortable straw chair to watch the proceedings. But not the care and adoration newborn goblins showed to their mommy.


    In fact, she looked distant from the proceedings. Observing them from afar with sad eyes.


    She has not knowingly lied to you so far.


    She hasn''t really had to opportunity. The demon you gave me said that social bonds are what keep human beings from betraying each other. And she has not had the chance to build social bonds with anybody.


    The comment slightly peeved Cyclophan. Because Scratch had gone against his wishes to select a boastful demon outside of his affinity. The incubus was capricious and weak, and Cyclophan had never vouched for his competence. Scratch now had an inflated sense of the temptation demon''s competence thanks to a successful scheme using a wyrm shard.


    And you have repeatedly claimed to be able to prevent betrayal by taking away its drivers. Well? What drivers are there now?


    I can''t detect any. That''s what worries me. I don''t know anything about these new women.


    Cyclophan calmed down. It was all for the sake of protecting the dungeon after all. You did bring the banners.


    Yes. We did.


    -


    After the mass blessing was done, it was time to present them to her.


    "And if you do that with every new baby. You can be sure they''ll be good boys." Ada was just explaining the baptism to the broodmother.


    Considering the frequency of goblin births, baptism was something she would need to do herself. The master of ceremonies wouldn''t be able to keep traveling from colony to colony, blessing new goblins every hour. Multiple toadstone had been produced for the purpose.


    "A moment of your time please?" Scratch said. He had put the burning cigar away now.


    Constantine coughed to get her attention.


    "We have yet to design your personalized flag."


    The banners he had with him were of a deep blue, that would stand out in a forest at any season. The cloth had been produced domestically for the first time, in a favored colony, and as goblin-made wares the ends were frayed and uneven. But there was enough room to sow in a unique emblem with contrasting colour.


    "These flags? We fly these in town?"


    Scratch nodded. "In town and on the trading trails. We have wargs and hobgoblins patrolling the forest. By your flag they''ll know these aren''t feral goblins."


    "But then... why are they personalized?"


    "..." Scratch didn''t say anything, but gave her a meaningful look.


    "Oh... If I... do something. My flags won''t count anymore. Is that it?"


    "It''s only a precaution, you don''t have to worry thinking about it. Have you thought about a design yet?"


    She took the cloth in her hands. "Is it supposed to be an animal?"


    "It can be. Beth and her kids, from further east, they have a tower in their colony. So she wanted hers to be a tower."


    "Okay..."


    There was a short silence while the woman stared at the cloth in her hand.


    "You know... you don''t have to start breeding right away." Scratch began, sensing her unease.


    She looked up in surprise.


    "Your job here is to be their mother. Teach them proper values. Set up some sort of industry. Maybe something that you could put on a flag."


    "A farm!" Constantine suggested.


    "Oh, yes! A Farm." Scratch nodded. "This winter food is getting kinda scarce. So we''re instituting a real, actual government policy. Farm as much produce as you can. Anything you can''t eat or sell the Promise will buy for at a fixed price."


    She smiled. "For the paper money."


    "Indeed."


    "With your face on it."


    "With my face on it, yes. And a few other faces too you know, I don''t mean to seem conceited. It''s really gold you know, you''re just not keeping it at home. Attracts bad attention. You can buy anything that can be smuggled via Barbara at the Promise. And of course, the colonies trade with each other."


    "And with the hot-spring." Ada added.


    "Right. With Laurus'' girls as well."


    The woman thought for a moment. "Can my emblem be a sword?"


    "A sword?"


    "I want to produce weapons."


    "I don''t know... we already have the steel armory of course..."


    She was shocked at hearing the word.


    "But for the sake of export... Why not?"


    "Maybe Felix can help." Constantine suggested.


    <hr>


    Felix wasn''t with the blessing troupe, but in the underworld, at the elven mansion.


    It had not been uncommon for the male hobgoblins to try and intrude on the ladies'' space and try to bask in their presence.


    But now they could hardly get a day''s break.


    Liorin had slept with Will.


    That''s what will had claimed at least.


    It had inflamed the hope of all the brothers, who were biologically hardwired to reproduce, and could hardly think about anything else.


    "Do you need help cutting that?" He intruded into their kitchenette, "I can show you how to use a knife you know. Ever tried throwing a knife?"


    "I do not wish for thine presence," Farith nearly shouted, having done everything short of physically touching him to try and get him to leave.


    "Make thyself scarce."


    "Oh. I don''t know what that means. Is Liorin here?"


    In his mind, he would have a better chance with a woman that had a proven track record of putting out.


    "Out. Out!"


    He obeyed her, but only because he had seen Liorin and Will in the elven garden.


    Outside, he was reminded of his new vision.


    The magical flow of the dungeon shone like a glowing wire through the already rather bright desert of the underworld. And the magical gem that purified the sewer water from the troll fields had a circle of glowing runes floating around it.


    He pulled at the elf girl''s sleeve. "Hi! I wanted to ask you... wanna try some stuff with me too? I''ll give you a really cool boar tusk."


    Liorin wrapped herself in Will''s arms protectively. She had discovered that binding herself to one captor gave her a way to fend off the others.


    "Liorin says we should be together. Just the two of us." Will said, squeezing her. "Like... promised to each other."


    "Why do you get to be the only one?" Felix pushed him. "I''m older. I want-"


    Will had let go of Liorin and grasped at him.


    A scuffle developed.


    Both were trying to get a hold of the other''s wrists and trying to wrest the other to the ground.


    They had been taught more advanced martial arts, but it didn''t occur to them to use it against each other.


    Still, as Liorin saw this occur, it seemed to her like a savage and deadly combat.


    "Stop it! STOOP ITT!" She yelled in a panic.


    They did not.


    "Curse you! Damned brutes! Why must thou display over my body like rutting elks! What must I do if their father dies before their time?"


    The fighting boys slowed down slightly.


    "Who''s father?" Felix asked.


    She put her hand on her belly. "I am no longer a maiden. It hath already begun. I shall be a mother soon."


    <hr>


    Grootslang


    Family: Beast


    Threat Level: A


    Reward: Peerage


    The territory of a grootslang can be recognized by the large holes in the terrain, which the creature has dug to move between planes. They are tunnels that lead into the underworld.


    Adventurers can not enter continue through the territory of a grootslang without the aid of an archbishop or higher ranked church official, as the ground itself is seeped in evil. Joining an expedition into a grootslang''s lair without express consent by the guild and local count is forbidden and can lead to expulsion. Knowingly letting others do so can also result in punishment.


    The treasure found inside a grootslang''s lair is cursed. It may not be retrieved and can not be sold.


    The rubies in its bowels will enchant the senses of those that behold them, and inflame in them a wicked greed. Were one to succumb to this greed and take one with them, they would fall further into its clutches over time, becoming totally obsessed with the shiny trinket. Rubies retrieved from a grootslang''s lair have caused much bloodshed in the past, as normally reasonable individuals came to deadly blows over its possession.


    The mesmerizing curse that afflicts everything within the grootslang''s lair is considered the hardest curse out of all to lift by church officials, and it requires at least a bishop. The process can therefore be rather expensive.


    The grootslang itself resembles a giant snake, though the consistency of its body is more like stone than flesh.


    It sets itself apart by the mass of its body and its great speed, which it can use to crush a steel golem in one hit. Adventurers that are able to withstand its initial tackle must then avoid being ground up in its maw or swallowed whole.


    A grootslang''s weakness is water magic. It uses its scales to move, and these are most easily damaged by ice.


    No parts of a grootslang may be harvested and sold, as all its body parts are highly cursed.

 Dungeon Delving

    "Ugh, this place stinks." Mona complained.


    "It''s the only way in not swarming with hobgoblins," Letta said to the tiny fairy girl, "now stop complaining. You said you''d do anything to find your queen, didn''t you?"


    Mona could at least hoover mid air. She didn''t have to touch the slimy sewer walls.


    Letta was a human being, not gifted with flight and larger than a goblin.


    In many places the walkway was to narrow for her, and she had to wade her fur shoes through the slime filtered runoff of dozens of goblin outhouses. It had long soaked in and touched her skin by now, but she did not falter, she had a mission.


    "Something''s here!" Mona warned.


    Her tiny body lit up the pitch black tunnel, revealing the far wall where it chicaned, following the pre-existing curvature of the underground river.


    "More slimes?" The young teenager gripped her short sword with both hands. Slimes were ranked as a level F threat by the adventurers'' guild, but in large groups, in narrow confines, they were a lethal threat.


    A large shadow stretched over the far wall, but the creature casting it was small.


    A pustulated goblin in full body black clothing, wielding a two-pronged spear.


    "Yikes, so they do have ugly ones," Letta joked, but not very mirthfully, "they just keep them down here."


    The goblin wasn''t surprised to see them. He had to have heard their bickering long before they came into view.


    Mona fluttered out of the way as he charged at Letta.


    She widened her stance.


    By now, she knew how to deal with it.


    Don''t let them drive you onto your back foot, stay stable.


    Redirect their attack, use their own momentum against them.


    Then, when you see an opening, lunge!


    She jumped forward, hacking her two handed bronze short sword into his chest.


    The sheer force threw the goblin onto his back, but she hadn''t cut through his layered clothing.


    He tried to raise his spear, but she put her foot on his forearm, and forced the tip of her sword down.


    Into his eye.


    The goblin screamed inhumanly as she pulled it out.


    He would die in only a few seconds.


    She kicked his body into the water stream, spreading a cloud of carmine colors into the stream.


    "It looks like we''re beyond slimes now, Letta." Mona squealed, "the further we get into this dungeon, the more goblins we''ll see."


    "Are you sure it''s a dungeon?" Letta asked, shuffling further into the rancid tunnel.


    Slimes and goblins were to be expected, they were above ground as well. A dungeon would have dangerous evolved monsters.


    "Def- def- definitely!" Mona came right up to her face to insist on it. "Our queen wouldn''t disappear into any old hole. This was the last place she went! There must be dungeon magic in play."


    "Mhm." Letta nodded.


    The prospect was scary but enticing.


    On the one hand, there was the threat of running into dangerous magical beasts.


    But on the other, there was no way the adventurers'' guild could turn a blind eye to the goblins then.


    "... What is that noise?" She said.


    There was a distinct clatter, like a stormy river, that had been present faintly for a while, but had become really noticeable now.


    "We''re coming up to an artificial lake," Mona said, "that''s the sound of streams converging! We''re getting closer!"


    -


    The room housing the artificial lakes was domed, spacious even.


    Standing on the edge of the first basin they could see ahead twenty paces at least.


    There was a balcony above them. Rafters from which large clay stirring tools were operated.


    The basin served to gather the large detritus in the streams, before it was drained into the next pool, for further cleaning.


    And feeding on that waste product was a great collection of slimes.


    A few goblins were stirring and separating the pot with their prongs, and were slow to react to their arrival, but the slimes reacted immediately.


    A large bubble of blue heaved itself out of the water to block Letta''s way. It was a group of smaller slimes fused together.


    "Now the real challenge begins, kill them Letta!" Mona yelled out encouragingly.


    Letta grit her teeth and widened her stance.


    "It''s just a slime, do it the same as you did with the others." The fairy cheered.


    Don''t let them drive you onto the back foot.


    The mass of slimes flooded forwards, surrounding her on two sides, but she didn''t move.


    Redirect their attack.


    When it converged on her she tried to slash the slime out of the way, but her weapon simply entered the gelatinous mass.


    When you see an opening...


    Letta saw no opening, she had her eyes firmly shut as the acid tried to invade her orifices.


    She wildly hacked around herself with no technique.


    Actually, it worked rather well.


    The individual slimes within the bubble were killed one by one, and soon the entire thing burst apart. Leaving her unscathed but covered from head to toe in slime and sewage.


    "Ugh." Mona grunted at the smell.


    The goblins quickly came charging, but she dealt with them easily enough.


    "Letta... are you alright?" The fairy asked. "That sure was a lotta slimes. But you know... getting dirty, withstanding hardships, that''s what heroes are made out of!"


    "Mhm."


    Letta didn''t know if she agreed.


    She had seen a hero, once. She had looked happy and careless, traveling the countryside with friends.


    She certainly couldn''t imagine the Rose hero toiling in the underground, being humiliated by slimes.


    "Come on, I''m sure there will be less slimes in the next room." Mona said.


    And there were.


    After balancing on the edge of the sequential stirring basins, they were able to find a tiny door towards the next room, where the water, undone of its solid elements, was dumped via waterfall into a large shallow filtration pond.


    There was no life here.


    The stink had become more chemical, as the pure flammable slime that could not pass through the sand underfloor was collected into several glowing green gutters and transported somewhere else.


    "Ugh." Mona complained. "I''m sorry I complained about the feces smell. This is an affront to nature."


    Letta retrieved her water flask from her breast pocket and poured it out.


    "What are you doing?" The fairy asked.


    "May be able to use this..." she murmured, as she put her flask into the gutter and collected the slime.


    The liquid stained her hands, but she was already dirt anyway.


    The room after that, the noise died down.


    It was a tranquil lake of now filtered clean water. An immaculate silver pipe stuck out from the middle and disappeared straight into the ceiling.


    "This is where they get their drinking water." Mona said. "What should we do to it?"


    But Letta was already moving on.


    "You''re right," the fairy sighed, "that wouldn''t help the mission. And it''d just alert them to our presence. Still, I wish- hey! Wait for me!"


    <hr>


    The entrance to the water treatment chambers was a small door, bordering on hatch.


    It wasn''t locked.


    It opened outwards as the girl opened it from inside, and she had to squint against the light.


    Even though they were underground, the next room was brightly lit.


    "Oh, I see. This is the wolf den." Mona whispered, she had crawled into Letta''s pocket for safety. "Where they keep their beasts."


    It was a cave, but one with wooden flooring and cushions. The natural rock face was painted with the colors of nature and the occasional rope decoration. And the light came from unflickering lanterns incorporated into the flooring.


    There weren''t many wolves around, but there was the sound of poultry scratching in hay nearby.


    "Watch out Letta, if the warg wolves smell a whiff of you they''ll come running in packs. If that happens, you have to use the spellpaper."


    "I think a golem could smell me from three miles off like this." Letta complained, still covered in sewage.


    "There has to be a way deeper into the dungeon," Mona insisted, "stick to the walls."


    Letta followed her advice and snuck with her back to the wall alongside the edge of the cave.


    There was an eerie peace in the empty den.


    The master of the house had left it empty, but he could return at any moment, with his hounds.


    The cave had a curve to it, like a horseshoe, and as Letta progressed through it, new things came into view.


    Such as a bond with geese in it.


    No, on closer inspection, there was only one goose in the pond. But it had two heads.


    Two necks sprouting from its fluffy body.


    One of the heads spotted her and began honking, the other soon joined it.


    It was the kind of noise that could wake up a castle.


    "That''s a dark goose!" Mona yelled, "an unnatural creature."


    "Figured as much." Letta widened her stance and held up her sword as it thrashed its feet through the water and damn near flew at her.


    One slap of the bifurcated beast''s mighty wings slapped the short sword out of her hands.


    It had the advantage of a goose''s unrelenting rage, in which no other creature is their peer.


    Letta rolled out of the way and ran backwards as the dark goose continued its pursuit.


    "Is it that strong?" Mona gasped.


    "It''s a goose, a goose can break your leg." Letta said.


    She was able to kite it around for a bit, until she had made a wide circle back to her weapon and picked it up.


    "Eat this!" She was able to avoid its wings this time and swung into its necks, cleanly decapitating one, and half decapitating the other.


    The one-headed goose slowed down, tucked in its wings for a bit, and then, with an uncomprehending look, died.


    "Good job Letta!" Mona fluttered out of her pocket to celebrate. "You''re becoming a real monster slayer!"


    "I hope we didn''t attract any attention." Letta muttered.


    But they had.


    "Hello? Yanus?" A voice came calling from somewhere inside the cave. "What''s that ruckus, huh? Did the puppies come near your pond again, huh?"


    Letta dove into one of the inset cushioned nests in the wooden flooring and pressed herself against its side to avoid detection.


    -


    As the voice came closer, it suddenly gasped.


    "Yanus! Who did this?"


    The dead goose did not respond.


    "Oh no... oh what a pity."


    Mona dared sneak a peek over the edge of the nest.


    "Oh my stars," she said, "it''s a young girl. No older than you are."


    "That''s Cobaline," Letta sighed, "she was raised by bandits and taken to this place when the goblins conquered them. I don''t want to fight her if I don''t have to."


    "Who''s there!?" Cobaline shouted, "show yourself!"


    "She might be our only lead further in." Mona said.


    Letta groaned and jumped up out of the nest.


    Cobaline was the same height as she. Dressed in a peasant dress, but with a few wild barbaric ornaments, furs and bones.


    While Letta had been ravaged by her journey, Cobaline was clean and braided, with only some grass stains on her lower dress and shoes.


    They were inversion of one another. One groomed but barbaric, the other disheveled but proper.


    "Who are you?" Cobaline said slowly, "you don''t belong here."


    Letta raised her sword. "I''m here for the fairy queen. Show me where she is and don''t make a sound, nobody has to get hurt."


    The bandit girl''s eyes quickly glanced at a wooden lattice in the cave wall at the mention of the fairy queen, and then she quickly avoided it. "We musn''t-" She said to herself, "it''s not safe to fight without the pack- We musn''t."


    "Who are you talking to?" Letta said, closing the distance towards her. "...Hey!"


    Cobaline looked her in the eyes.


    Hers had already changed, become yellow.


    Letta froze up as the girl before her disappeared, replaced by a warg wolf in ill-fitting clothes.


    It turned around and ran off, barking heavily.


    "What do we do know?" Mona asked.


    "That thing," Letta sprinted at the lattice, "it has to be some sort of door, it..."


    She stopped talking.


    A massive creature had approached them.


    The honking and barking had brought out something fiercer.


    It looked like the necks and heads of five swans, but scaled up to be the size of constrictor snakes.


    Like the goose before it, they were connected to a singular swan body. But even the body was branched into more of itself, as a second pair of webbed feet supported the elongated torso at the back, and its wings, when it spread them, were large enough to cover the breadth of the cave.


    It didn''t make a noise.


    It simply began to step towards them with an increasing pace. Some of its heads turned to look at them, some opened to reveal the hideous serrated tomium in their bills.


    Letta pulled on the lattice in a panic as the monstrous bird got closer and closer.


    "Letta hurry up!" Mona screamed.


    "It won''t budge!"


    "A dungeon door can''t stay closed. It has to open to let the magic through. There has to be a trick to it."


    Letta smashed into the wood with her sword, sending splinters flying, and again. Breaking one plank turned two adjacent openings into one slightly larger hole.


    A fully grown adult wouldn''t have been able to crawl through, but she managed to squeeze in just in time, ripping her vest.


    The room at the other side was cold and dry and she scrambled to the other side of it on all fours.


    A swans head stuck out of the lattice when she turned around, squawking angrily. The long neck couldn''t reach even halfway across the oval room.


    She had escaped.


    "You did it Letta!" Mona cheered.


    Letta began to laugh. But she felt closer to crying.


    <hr>


    The room was dark.


    Darker than the sewers had been.


    Darker than the forest at night.


    Mona shone some light upon the thrashing swan head, but almost nothing could be made out.


    Having caught her breath, Letta traced her hand around the cement walls. There didn''t seem to be an opening.


    "A dungeon closing off its entrance is like a person holding his breath," Mona said, "sooner or later, they have to let air in."


    "We''re not even sure it''s a dungeon." Letta grunted.


    The swan had stopped thrashing now and stared calmly into the darkness.


    Voices were coming from behind it.


    "Turn him... no, like this."


    "Pivot. Pi-vot!"


    "They''re trying to get the hydra swan out of the hole," Letta said, "and then they''ll come for us."


    "It has to open up quickly, it has to." The fairy said, now with less conviction. "Look for a hole, anything..."


    "I don''t think so..." Letta reached for the spellpaper, when suddenly the floor made a clicking noise.


    A section in the middle of the floor began to sink.


    "What is that? A trap?"


    "It''s a way out! Jump in!"


    She followed the fairy''s advice and jumped onto the platform moving down.


    "We''re following her path..." Mona said, "are you excited?"


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "That''s one word for it..."


    -


    The platform kept sinking and sinking.


    It was a cargo lift ensconced in a steel frame.


    Letta watched as the many tons of steel beams passed by her, while she was still holding her tiny bronze sword.


    Then she saw beyond it.


    An enormous drip stone cavern, lit up by the fires of industry.


    Countless pockets of molten metal spread their orange glow.


    Melting pots, purification table, and many smithies dotted the darkness underneath them like stars in the sky.


    As they continued to lower, they were swallowed by that sky.


    Trolls beating metal, pipes carrying fumes, and chemical baths with ore were rising up above them as they entered the web of metal.


    There was a rhythm to the sound they were making. A drum beat of synchronized labor.


    The platform was speeding up now, dangerously so.


    "Letta, get ready. There''s a welcome party down below." Mona said.


    The human girl couldn''t stick her head out to see the bottom, but there were several hobgoblins there to receive her.


    "Like I''m waiting for that."


    She sheathed her blade and took a few steps back.


    "Letta, what are you doing?"


    "Hold on to my shirt."


    With a running jump she dove off the falling lift, between the girders flitting by, and towards one of the suspended workshops.


    She met with the cold and hard metal floor arms first, and rolled to catch her fall.


    Even with that technique, it was still a hard landing, and her skull bonked painfully against the surface.


    "Ow ow ow."


    "Letta, watch out!"


    She looked up just in time to see the troll, who had a stone glove used as blacksmith''s hammer swipe at her.


    It banged loudly against the metal frame, one hit would have killed her.


    "Run for it!" She screamed at herself.


    There was a pathway leading up to the smithy, and she barreled down the staircase, kicking a goblin with a bucket of water out of the way.


    Down the stairs. Over the railing. Under the transport belt.


    There was no time to determine the optimal route, as she rushed by every worker in the foundry as soon as possible before they knew what was happening.


    "Letta, were are we going!?" Mona yelled out.


    "Down." She panted. "This isn''t a prison. We have to go further down."


    -


    Eventually she was able to drop down to the cave''s ground level, somewhere outside the hobgoblin''s expected entrance.


    In fact, they had rushed upstairs to find her in the maze of workshops.


    Ground level was were the big industrial machines were.


    The giant caldera pouring molten steel.


    The beam rollers creating wire.


    Rolling band of metal plates and cutting arm.


    They were all placed in a forest of stalagmites, connected by a suspended pathway of wooden floorboards.


    Letta moved underneath the wood, as panicked footsteps could be heard above her.


    The residents were intent on catching her, but none had considered the possibility that she could have gone below even the floorboards.


    "Whereto hath she runneth off?" Someone said.


    "I cannot say, brother. She be somewhere among the forges, surely."


    "Why do they talk all old-timey?" Mona whispered.


    "Standeth guard near the Lion''s Head. Don''t let her reach the next level," the goblin said, and a stampede followed into a unified direction.


    Letta and Mona looked at each other knowingly. They couldn''t have the way to the next level more clear if they tried.


    <hr>


    Clambering around the stalagmites underneath the floorboards was a whole lot more cumbersome than strolling over top them.


    And Letta had to slow down for a token attempt at stealth when her pounding heart allowed her.


    So they could not keep pace with the hobgoblins.


    As such, they came upon a fork in the road without knowing which was the way to the Lion''s Head.


    One scaffold continued on into the dark depths, while the other branched off into the middle of the stone forest and led to a strange, rounded boulder, unnatural in its matte smoothness.


    "Could that be the Lion''s Head?" Letta asked.


    "Looks more like an egg." Mona remarked.


    It was an egg. A big round egg of concrete and cement with a portcullis to keep out its ovivorous enemies.


    Mona audibly swallowed. "I''ll go take a look."


    Before Letta could say anything, the tiny fairy had flitted out of her pocket and towards the small inner building.


    What followed felt like a year of darkness and silence.


    It seemed like Mona would never return, and Letta let her hand stroke the spell paper, just to check if it was still there.


    Then, a light emanated from the egg. A short burst of diffuse beams of brightness coming from the portcullis.


    It was silent once more, and the portcullis slowly began to open.


    Letta curled up behind the rock formations, and Mona still hadn''t returned.


    -


    Some time later, she could hear a group of people walking overhead.


    They had come from the egg, and were talking loudly.


    "Zhat is just vhat I vanted to show! Zhat a labyrinth may change at zhe dungeon master''s digression. As long as zhere is a path tovards zhe outside and zhe sky, from vhich all magic flows."


    "I wonder, Noss Fleder, if you will ever run out of dungeons to show me. Honestly, it''s all become a blur to me now, I can''t tell them apart."


    "Zhese lessons are important for zhe defense of your own dungeon, you know zhat."


    "Do I? We haven''t had an intruder for more than five years, I know that."


    "Papa!" A goblin called out to the boy that had been speaking. "We have an intruder!"


    "What? Inside the foundry?"


    "Vhat vill you do now?"


    "Let the bats and grues catch them. We''re going downstairs to the garden, it''s the closest panic room."


    And the voice, which had to have been Papa Scratch, left towards what could only be the direction of the Lion''s head.


    -


    Letta was once again alone in the darkness.


    She wondered if she should have jumped out when the goblin patriarch had been right above her.


    His voice had sounded so clear and close, yet she had done nothing.


    She had simply shrunk back and observed. Just like...


    "Letta!" Mona appeared suddenly from the darkness in her face, almost triggering a reflexive swatting.


    The fairy had managed to suppress her natural glow.


    "That place... it''s a strange circle of stone and crystal. Then it lit up... and there were people that suddenly came out!"


    "It must be a warping circle." Letta explained, "just like they have at the adventurers'' guild. The person that came out was Papa Scratch, the goblin boss. He''s going down to the next level."


    Without realizing it, she had been fondling the hilt of her sword as she spoke.


    "Letta..." Mona whispered, "we''re here for the queen, right? Not for Papa Scratch?"


    "R-right." She quickly let go of it, and released the weapon to hang into her scabbard fully once more. "But we might have to get past him."


    <hr>


    The end of the wooden pathway sloped down, becoming the tongue of a stone carving of a lion''s head. Or the head of some large carnivore at least.


    The stonework was impressive in its scale and nothing else.


    Copper plating had replaced parts of the lion that had fallen off, and they had rusted green.


    Standing inside the mouth of the lion, barring access to its insides, stood a trio of hobgoblins.


    They were dressed not too dissimilar to rookie adventurers, wearing peasant clothing with some protective leather overneath, and a number of unique metal weapons. Only the clothing and equipment looked more uneven, more amateurishly made.


    Letta could just about take all of this in, her body half covered by the slanting wood, without springing too much in their eye, as they were bent over a small booklet the middle one was holding.


    "Tis supposed to be a duck and a rabbit at once." He explained.


    "This is folly," his brother grunted, "I hath not seen but one of these double-views."


    "I dare say, the old woman and the young woman I couldst not see. But this I can. It could be a beak or its ears, yes?" The third said.


    "Lines on paper canst never show the form of nature," the second insisted, "rabbits and ducks are naught flat like your pages."


    "Thy words are like the fox, decrying the sour grapes, Ma¨¹riel," said the hobgoblin holding the book, "Thou hath never seen a rabbit. Come, I shall show you another one. For this one, one must cross one''s eyes. Like so."


    As they were discussing the booklet of visual curiosities, Letta searched the ground near her feet for loose pebbles and found one.


    "What are you doing?" Mona whispered.


    "I need to lure them out of there to get past." She whispered back.


    With a deft throw she hurled the pebble many paces into the darkness where there was no pathway, and hid.


    As she had hoped, it made a clear and conspicuous *thwack* noise, that caught the guards'' attention.


    "What was that?" One said.


    "Somebody threw a pebble." Said the other.


    "They must be hiding underneath the planks!"


    Two of the hobgoblins dropped down on different sides of the walkway, to approach her from different sides.


    "Was this what you wanted?" Mona asked.


    Letta pinched the bridge of her nose. "No..."


    -


    When the brothers approached the location of the intruder, they were suddenly met by a cloud of billowing smoke.


    A simple fire starter spell and the efficient slime kindling had managed to set fire to the wooden boards.


    "Aww, ugh!" One of them coughed, as the black soot drifted straight in his direction. "Incomplete burning."


    "But we art not permitted to burn treated wood," the other said unhelpfully.


    "Put it out then!"


    Waiting between the burning wood, Letta held her breath and tucked her fingers under her armpits not to sear them.


    The smoke was supposed to provide a cover against detection, but it became increasingly a threat to her own well-being.


    "Letta! Now!" Mona yelled out from somewhere, and at the fairy''s direction, the girl dashed out of the smoke and ran parallel to the path.


    Due to the good timing the hobgoblin has just begun a water spell and wasn''t prepared to intercept her dashing out of the fiery nook.


    Once the path became low and unburned enough she was able to jump on top of it without slowing down, directly toward''s the Lion''s Mouth, where the third hobgoblin was now guarding the entrance by himself.


    He saw her coming and quickly stowed away the book of illusions, unsheathing a short metal staff from a thigh strap.


    In one fluid motion she drew her sword and lunged.


    The sword cut through the air and met with the subhuman''s rod.


    *thwack*


    The copper short sword bounced off of the superior steel, now permanently deformed and bent 60 degrees.


    Letta struggled to stay on her feet after being thrown back, but the hobgoblin had seemingly not felt any force at all.


    His arm shot forward and grabbed her by the wrist, more curious than angry. "Art thou a human? Thou art rather small for a human."


    He was barely taller than her, but his strength was like a grown man, and he effortlessly held her in place.


    In her panic, she swung at him again with her ruined sword, but he violently clubbed her over the head.


    The pain was sharp and instant, and her vision blurred as she lost strength in her legs.


    "Maybe mother will let me keep her." She heard him say.


    Suddenly, the painful grasp on her wrist disappeared and he cursed.


    Mona had flown in from somewhere and bitten him in the finger.


    The hobgoblin dropped his weapon to grasp the tiny girl with both hands.


    Letta picked up the ruined weapon she had let slip out of her grip and widened her stance.


    "Letta! Run! Go find the queen!" Mona grunted from her constricted position, "don''t worry about me, just go!"


    After half a moment''s hesitation, Letta moved to the side of the hobgoblin, who had trouble divvying up his attention, and then dashed into the lion''s mouth.


    Not a hair too soon, as the other brothers had already caught up with her and she only narrowly escaped a tackle.


    <hr>


    Letta had always been proud of her running.


    In absence of fighting ability, it had helped her survive in the crime ruined streets of Eston as an orphan.


    But the hobgoblins weren''t just good fighters, they were physically developed in all aspects.


    Sprinting through the river that the Lion''s Head lead into, she couldn''t get a lead on her pursuers.


    Unlike in the sewers, there was no continuous walkway next to the water here, only a series of slippery tiles that one could step on to keep their feet dry while crossing.


    And between the tiles, the river became increasingly wild.


    "Stop!"


    "Hey come back, we just want to talk!"


    The guards were wholly unconvincing in their attempts at getting her to stand down as they swung their weapons around.


    Eventually Ma¨¹riel got his hand on her sleeve.


    That''s when Letta dove into the river.


    It could have been an escape gambit, and it could have been due to her waning strength and despair. She wasn''t sure herself.


    But letting the strong current drag her on she escaped the grasp of the hobgoblins. They stopped running and just looked at her with a bewildered expression.


    -


    The underground river was so strong that Letta had trouble coming up for air.


    For a moment, she lost consciousness, until she was fished out by the scruff of her neck.


    When she looked down, she saw a dizzying drop.


    Below her was a waterfall, countless story tall and a death sentence had she gone over.


    At was a lush green pasture and river, lit by a cloudy, moving pattern of light.


    Her addled brain wondered how she came to be on top of a mountain, in broad daylight. Then she looked up to see who had saved her life.


    Orange-skinned, with small horns, but a feminine face.


    Letta didn''t know there was such a thing as a female hobgoblin, yet she was dangling from one''s arm now.


    The girl''s face leaned slightly to the side while keeping her eyes on Letta. "Papa! What do we want with her?"


    Behind her was a whole retinue of goblins, in cloth and fur.


    They were attending to a house, suspended in mid-air.


    The wood and metal dangled a few inches above their brick platform and there was a ramp for entering it.


    "Ah! A roof!" Letta exclaimed, now seeing the metal cables holding up the object and the wooden lattice covering the luminescent rock sky.


    "What are you saying?"


    "Ada! There''s- oh, thou hath gotten her." The other three hobgoblins came running over the river steps.


    "We knew thou wouldst catch her." Ma¨¹riel panted.


    Ada frowned. "You three are the worst guards. I should tell your mothers about this."


    "Aw... Ada!"


    As they talked, the goblins inside the dangling home began turning some large wheel or mechanism. And it began to move.


    It began to move away from the platform, over the dizzying heights over the edge.


    The cables led all the way down at a gentle slope, towards a series of erratic and crooked buildings in the depths, where a reception platform stood amidst the greenery.


    "The next level!" Letta tightened her grip, feeling the ruined sword still in her hand.


    She heaved it up and arched her back, which released from the distracted hobgoblin girl''s grip.


    When she fell down, she tensed her whole body to force the sharp of the blade into her sandal.


    *snap*


    It broke in two.


    Letta fell to the ground and could only just avoid falling into the waterfall below, digging the bleeding fingers of her free hand into the brickwork.


    Ada was staring her directly in the eyes.


    She breathed in.


    And then fell backward, screaming in pain, grasping at her foot.


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"


    "Ada!" The brothers yelled out.


    "Oh no, Ada, you''ve got metal shards in your foot!"


    "I can see that you idiot! Grab the girl!"


    Roused by the commotion, Papa Scratch came to the entrance of the moving house.


    His eye met Letta''s.


    She scrambled to her feet and, clutching the broken blade, sprinted towards the edge of the cliff.


    She would have taken a longer running start if she''d had the opportunity.


    Be that as it may, she made it.


    She collided directly with the goblin patriarch, who hadn''t flinched, and landed on top of him.


    His eye widened as he fell backwards and she landed on top of him.


    "Nobody move!" Letta screamed triumphantly, though her voice cracked a little, "or Papa gets it."


    The broken end of the sword was pressed against his throat, and she was holding the grip with two hands.


    The goblins that had been turning the wheel stopped to look at her confusedly, and the vessel swung due to the sudden stop.


    Behind her, the hobgoblins were lining up at the edge.


    "Except for you. You keep turning the wheel." Letta commanded.


    They hesitated.


    "Do as she says." Papa Scratch sighed.


    So they continued, and soon the distance became too far for the hobgoblins to jump after her.


    "You''re going to show me what lies at the bottom of all of this." She panted.


    <hr>


    The vessel creaked slowly forward as the goblins, somewhat self-consciously, dragged it forwards.


    There were benches at the sides of the interior, but apart from one boy, they were empty.


    Scratch was laid on his back on the floor, Letta still on top of him.


    "Think this is wise?" He asked.


    "Be silent. Tell me how you carved out this space."


    "Be silent and tell you?" He nearly laughed, but she pushed the blade threateningly into his skin.


    That''s when the individual on the bench stood up.


    He was well dressed, perhaps a bit mud-stained at the extremities.


    A boy, smaller than her, but exuding a silent strength.


    He cracked his neck.


    "S-stay back." She held up the sword.


    He looked her in the eyes and bared his vampiric fangs.


    Then he fell face first onto the ground.


    Scratch raised his hands. "That was my last backup, you''re the captain now. Now can we both take a seat?"


    -


    Letta first pushed the fainted boy out of the door, tentatively, using her feet.


    He flopped over the edge and plummeted into the field of unseasonal barley below. A troll looked up lazily at the sight of him and she hid from its sight.


    "Keep going." She commanded the worker goblins.


    The leader was granted the limited freedom to get up from the ground and sit on the bench, though she didn''t let her grip of the half-sword waver from his direction.


    "You realize that the people living here are protected by the crown," he said, "you''re not adventuring down here. You''re breaking the law."


    "The first adventurers were lawbreakers." She said.


    "I didn''t know that."


    "Well... anyway," she peeked out of the vessel towards the small neighborhood at the end of the cable. A number of hobgoblins had gathered around the arrival station, "I don''t think the queen would let all of this go on if she knew about the dungeon. It is a dungeon, isn''t it... Papa Scratch?"


    "It is." It would have been pointless to deny now. "Is that why you Linel send you here? To find proof of a dungeon?"


    "No. To find the queen of the fairies. I know you keep her at the lowest level of the dungeon."


    "So Linel did send you."


    She gritted her teeth, feeling somehow tricked into revealing potentially dangerous information. "N-no... the guildmaster doesn''t know that I''m doing this. I was... approached by the fairies directly."


    Scratch smiled faintly. "That''s a lie. I can tell when people lie you know."


    Letta flinched.


    "The god that resides within the dungeon core tells me about it." he said, "Linel has avoided telling a single lie for five years now, so I don''t know who he talks to or what his plans are. You on the other hand, lie all the time. To the other orphans, to the adventurers'' guild, to the city guards.


    That puts a big red spotlight on you as far as Cyclophan, evil god of deceit and trickery, is concerned. We just hadn''t expected you so early."


    "An evil god..." Letta gripped the sword tighter. "Why are you telling me all this?"


    "You won''t be alive to pass it on." He said, matter-of-factly. "What convinced you to go along with it, anyway?"


    She looked at his smug face and felt like lashing out with the weapon right there. But without their leader as a hostage, she would probably be overrun by the worker goblins. "That''s none of your business."


    "Ch." He clicked his tongue, "don''t be like that. This will be the last chance you get telling your story... Pumpkin."


    "You''re trying to get me to kill you!" She shouted.


    The goblins stopped turning the wheel, but Scratch gestured at them to continue.


    "You''re the little girl we traded for the guild traitor," he said eventually, "what was it? Six years ago?"


    "Almost seven. I could never forget what you did to my family. It was due to you that I was taken in my that hag, Lacrima. She used all the children at the orphanage as her test subjects. Even after I was freed of her, I had to pick pockets to survive, and then I learn you are sheltering her."


    "So you''re here for revenge?"


    "I''m here for justice!" He voice cracked as she yelled. "It can''t be that the farmsteads call you their protector. That the knights bow to you as their baronet! A wretched goblin like you, an enemy of the gods. I can''t abide it!"


    Just the thought of it caused her some distress, her face and neck contorted in disgust as she spoke. So much that it caused her physical pain.


    "I see. If that''s where you''re standing, you have no reason not to strike me down right now."


    Scratch seemed to be perfectly at ease, presenting his neck as if indulging the game of a very young child.


    "No. I can''t do that." She simmered down into a cold fury. "If I kill you now, all people will know is that a rogue adventurer killed a minor noble. I''m here to expose you for the monster you are. Once I release the fairy queen, we''ll-" her hand hovered around the pocket with the spell paper, but she quickly retracted it. "Anyway. You don''t need to know the details, just sit back and let your empire crumble around you."


    Scratch nodded. "You can have her now."


    "Have wh-"


    A steel whip flung through the window, wrapping its segments around Letta''s right arm.


    She had one second to look at him confusedly, before she was suddenly yanked outside.


    On top of the cable that supported the vessel, stood the hobgoblin girl that she had hacked in the foot.


    She had healed her wound rather trivially and followed them on top of the metal wire in a feat of death defying tightrope walking.


    Letta was weightless. In free fall.


    She flailed helplessly as her attacker tightened the whip... and her arm was sliced into many parts.


    The shock was so great that she barely felt any pain at all.


    Her vision went black, and she never noticed hitting the ground.


    <hr>


    The pain woke Letta up.


    Several of her bones were broken and she was being dragged by her hair over uneven ground.


    But most of all, her dominant arm was torn a bloody pulp.


    A trail of blood was being left behind from her stump, and she was feeling cold from blood loss already.


    The troll that was dragging her along lifted her up and threw her on some smooth rock, and that really woke her up.


    "Here, buy yourself something nice." Scratch told the troll, handing it some of his paper money.


    "Yish Papa..." it grunted and sauntered off.


    "Still alive... well I''ll be."


    "She is persistent. I vill admit zhat much."


    "Ada. Heal her."


    "Papa! Why?"


    "Because I say so, get on with it."


    There was a faint itching in Letta''s stump, and the bleeding stopped. Although she was still very much anemic.


    She groaned and looked up, but immediately closed her eyes.


    Scratch and the boy from earlier were standing over her. The latter still very much alive, despite being thrown from a much greater height than she was.


    "Good morning Pumpkin." Scratch forcefully pried her eye open. "It''s time to meet that fairy queen of yours."


    "Letta! Oh no!" Mona''s voice called out to her. One of the hobgoblins was holding her.


    -


    The goblins had been thorough in their ministration, when Letta climbed to her feet all her pain was gone.


    However, her arm had not been returned to her.


    Stumbling a bit, for lack of balance, she let herself be urged forward by their weapons.


    The finality of her disfigurement hadn''t yet set in.


    They went up the steps of a lush garden. Between the sprawling family houses was a vibrant green collection of ferns and fruit trees. And hedges that fenced it off from the gardens.


    Notably, there wasn''t a sound of animal or insect anywhere.


    "Don''t give up hope yet, Letta." The fairy said sympathetically, but she was squeezed into silence by her captor.


    Letta wasn''t listening, her eyes were focused on Papa Scratch, who had at some point snatched the spellpaper out of her pocket.


    "Vhat is it?" His friend asked.


    "I don''t know. There are parts of the spell that are familiar, and parts that aren''t. I think it might be some sort of transformation spell?"


    He handed it over.


    "Ah. I should have suspected. ''Escape'', one of Walgis'' spells. Upon casting, zhe user turns into pure energy and floats against zhe currents of zhe dungeon, appearing at zhe entrance. Zhat is zhe infuriating zhing about celestial magic, it casually invents zhe most revolutionary patterns, and zhen uses it for such trivial purposes as escaping a dungeon."


    Scratch laughed. "If that''s how you feel, why don''t you edit it for your own purposes?"


    "Hmmpf. Now you sound exactly like my master. It is not zhat easy."


    As they crossed some invisible barrier out of the vibrant green, Letta''s eyes were suddenly hit with a piercing light.


    Before here stretched a sun-bleached stone road, amid a simmering hot desert.


    Beside the road stood an elf.


    Very pregnant and clad in a luxurious white silk.


    Some of the hobgoblin escort walked up to speak to her, and she kissed their cheeks. They were explaining what Letta was doing here.


    Letta looked over her shoulder at the towering and chaotic homes, and saw more elves and hobgoblins gathered on the balconies to gawk at her.


    "Is this where the hobgoblins live?" She asked.


    "It''s where the hobgoblins come from," Scratch said, he waved the spellpaper in her face. "You won''t be talking about this to anyone, you will die here. I just don''t like people dying slowly like that."


    "How benevolent." She said sarcastically.


    "Thanks." He said sarcastically back, stuffing the spellpaper in his breast pocket.


    -


    The desert road led to a castle, as she had seen at the waterfall.


    But coming close, she could feel her body shaken by a deep and unnatural sound.


    A tempestuous roar loosened the sand around them.


    "She''s in one of her moods today, isn''t she Bree?" Scratch said cheerfully.


    "Always Papa." A troll in full shiny steel stood under a shade giving overhang, guarding the entrance.


    "Well, let''s show her in."


    Letta experienced a moment of dread when the castle''s heavy doors began to open, almost expecting the horrible beast inside the burst out immediately.


    But the opening of the doors did not provide escape for the monster.


    The inside of the building was empty space.


    The monster was below, in a deep pit that was kept in shape by metal struts and stone walls.


    An enormous earth dragon bashed its head against the walls of the pit in pure rage. The crest on its head had been flattened due to years of abuse.


    A token, symbolic, railing separated the walking area from the sunken territory of the dungeon boss.


    "See that little hole in the middle of the pit?" Scratch asked Letta. "That''s how you get to the deepest part of the dungeon."


    "So the queen is guarded by the dragon..." Letta said.


    He didn''t answer. "The dragon may be hostile to us, but we still have to keep it alive. You know, feed it. That''s why I asked you to come all this way."


    Her eyes shot open in shock and the armored troll''s hands appeared to keep her in place.


    "I mean, why kill and bleed you in the middle of the garden when we have all the facilities right here? Plus, less carrying, you know." He gestured towards a set of equipment installed in the castle''s interior not too dissimilar to a butcher''s workshop.


    "Wait!" Letta screamed, as she was being moved towards it. "Wait. Throw me to the dragon alive!"


    Scratch raised an eyebrow. "I mean, don''t get me wrong. I don''t think you could kill her. But I''m not fond of drawing out deaths either. Rasthumin''s pin is quick and painless."


    The hobgoblin holding a miniature crossbow with the mentioned pin nodded eagerly.


    "What''s cruel," she was still struggling against the advanding troll, "what''s cruel is letting me get this close to the fairy queen and not giving me a chance to see her. Just throw me in. If I''m going to be eaten anyway, at least give me a chance to make it to the hole."


    "Sorry. My mind''s made up."


    "I''ll tell you! I''ll tell you what Linel''s plan is. I''ll tell you who contacted Mona and the other fairies."


    "Letta!" The fairy screamed.


    Scratch gestured at Bree to stop.


    "You can see when I lie, right?" Letta said. "So you know I''m telling the truth. If you give me to her alive, I''ll tell you."


    "Papa, we haven''t known what Linel is doing for months." A hobgoblin said, "if we just throw her down... it doesn''t cost anything."


    "You stupid girl..." Scratch said, his face full of genuine pity. "Come on then, tell me the secret. I''ll judge whether it''s worthy of a last wish."


    "I''ll whisper it into your ear."


    There was possibility that she wouldn''t try something. But the girl has lost her weapons and an arm, so Scratch rolled his eyes and approached.


    Bree let go Letta and she leaned in.


    Instead of trying to attack him, she whispered into his ear.


    He took a moment to absorb the information.


    Then, as she wasn''t being held, she dove over the protective railing straight into the pit.


    <hr>


    "Vhat is she doing!?" Noss exclaimed, looking over the edge.


    Scratch was still recalculating his position with the adventurers'' guild, but was convinced to join him by those words.


    Instead of running towards the middle, Letta had curled up against the wall.


    She held out her one arm towards the dragon, looking over her.


    "Vhy von''t she attack!?"


    There was a short flash of something.


    A burning flicker.


    Scratch''s hand shot towards his breast pocket. The spellpaper was gone.


    "Son of a- When?"


    "She''s casting a spell!" Felix said, and he was about to jump in.


    Bree grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back.


    They could all see the magical energies now surrounding the girl. But inside the dragon pit, there was no way to interrupt her.


    The magic collapsed on top of her and she began an orb of light to those who can perceive magic, and her being shot with lighting speed towards the dungeon stem the spanned through the air.


    It circled the flow a few times, and before anything could be said, she had disappeared. Returned to the surface.


    "Hah! Take that!" The fairy Ma¨¹riel was holding boasted. "Soon the whole human world will know about your underground operations."


    "I don''t think so," Scratch said, "with no proof, she''s just a criminal with a fancy story. Still... it could come back to bite us in the ass. We may need to look into- ... Actually, shut the fuck up. It''s not your business anymore."


    <hr>


    Hydra Swan


    Family: Bird


    Threat Level: C


    Reward: 20 gold


    A hydra swan is a creature that can only be found in dungeons. It can be recognized by its outward resemblance to swans. Despite its name, it is unrelated to the hydra, which is a dragon.


    Although it possesses wings, the hydra swan is incapable of flight, and uses these appendages as bludgeoning weapons. Adventurers are advised to ambush the creature from behind and get on its back, where its wings can not touch them. In order to defeat a hydra swan, one must cut off all its heads.


    The hydra swan does not yield any especially useful materials, but its meat is edible and quite delicious. There have been personal quests by nobility, commissioning adventurers for the special purpose of procuring hydra swan meat for a special occasion.

 Words of Poison

    "Constable."


    "Goblin."


    Scratch presented Constable Harkness with a quasi-polite smile, the constable repaid him with a surly curtness and disregard for his title.


    One might say the man did not put as much work in the smooth working of their relationship as the goblin did, but then again, Scratch''s faux charm wasn''t meant to placate him.


    It was a continuous and venomous attack on his senses.


    The constable hated fake geniality, and the goblin made sure to be as transparently fake as possible in his presence.


    They were bitter enemies.


    "You''ve met the suspect?" The constable asked.


    A young rank F adventurer had been captured trying to sneak out of the township. The guards had never even noticed her sneak in.


    "Please, please. Take a seat."


    "I''d rather stand."


    "Constable, I insist."


    And the constable was left not much choice but to take seat in the manor that housed his disowned daughter and her monster spawn.


    He groaned uncomfortably in the flower patterned cushions. "I do insist you answer my question. Have you met the girl, Letta?"


    Scratch didn''t sit down, but instead lit a cigarette. He had a toy made of flint and nickel bands that could produce sparks if you squeezed it. "I certainly have."


    "So you admit it then!"


    Scratch sighed, looking at him dissapointedly. "Admit to what?"


    "That you and your spawn were the ones to brutalize her. In your... underground... maze."


    "Undergrou-" Scratch blew smoke out of his nostrils. "That''s a fine recounting of events! You have seen the basement constable, you can judge its maze-like qualities, but brutalizing her!? Why I never. Surely a baronet of the king has the right to defend his own life when attacked? I don''t suppose she told you how she nearly severed my daughter''s foot."


    "There may ha-"


    "Your grand-daughter constable."


    Harkness was about to continue, but paused to give Scratch the evil eye for that comment.


    Scratch puffed on his cigarette smugly.


    "The allegation..." Harkness began slowly, "goes deeper than that. The report being that the underground structure extends deeper than your basement. Ending in a massive fortress encaging a dragon."


    Scratch waved away his words, swirling his smoke around. "The ''report'' in question being the fantastical justifications of a juvenile criminal. You have explored the basement yourself constable, on multiple occasions. A dragon! There might have been a dragonbat, scaring the young girl."


    The constable grinded his teeth. The baronet''s lies didn''t need to be convincing, he had the people''s support and he outranked him. Without proof, he had nothing. And the girl didn''t have anything in the way of proof either. In fact, he was starting to doubt her story himself. It had been a bit too good to be true after all.


    "I know exactly what''s going on here..." Scratch said, as he put out the cigarette in a portable ashtray.


    His fine suit had useful pockets like that.


    "What do you mean?"


    "It''s happened every year now for years, hasn''t it constable? Some would call it a black stain on your reputation- not me of course- some people. Young people from Eston come to the Promise and..."


    "The culling." Harkness said.


    The territory awarded to the goblins by royal decree was out-of-bounds for adventurers. It was illegal to hunt goblins under the baronet''s protection.


    Yet every spring, there were hooligans from different regions wanting to participate in the nation wide culling event, when goblins'' numbers were suppressed during early spring.


    The more advanced tribes and hobgoblin patrol only provided an exciting additional challenge.


    It was a crime.


    It was murder.


    It had happened at least once each year that the constable had had his post.


    "I''m afraid our Letta has simply made an early start on what has become... a local tradition." Scratch shook his head sadly. "I''m afraid of what the count might say if there was an official charge for her. About you, I mean."


    Harkness jumped up. "There will be a fair trial Scratch. I will take this girl to Eston. To be sentenced there. There will be no extra-judicial executions on my watch."


    "Even at cost to your own reputation?"


    "Justice has no price."


    Scratch shrugged. "That is all very fine. But I expect you to report on this matter tonight as well."


    "Tonight? What''s tonight?"


    "The most prestigious occasion! I expect you in black ti- no, in white tie. Wear your medals if you have them."


    <hr>


    Scratch had organized a dinner party for Adventurers'' Guild staff and Constable Harkness was hideously overdressed for the occasion.


    There was a tension between the knighthood and the adventurers at any time. But seeing the lower nobility dressed up in the pomp and spectacle of a gala, while they were dressed practically, lit the embers of disdain in their hearts.


    The guild members that become staff, after all, were those that hadn''t been able to leverage their achievements into a noble title and were still, technically, peasants.


    "Have you met Severus Harkness?" Scratch asked a bearded man from the sister location. "The captain to the trainee regiment for fifteen years, I understand. You have your experience with overeager young men, don''t you, Harkness?"


    Harkness closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself. Everything the baronet did was so painfully transparent.


    Even now, he had introduced him as a veteran, rather than a constable, under which capacity he was actually there. Just to increase the weight of his words.


    "There really is no comparison." He said through his teeth. "Overeager young knights rush into enemy territory. You are talking about criminals. Who attack the king''s allies."


    The guild staff member harrumphed indignantly, "Well I don''t see young knights conquering undiscovered dungeons either," unwilling to cede even the smallest comparison to the army.


    "Yesyesyes," Scratch prattled, "and that''s why- as you say- there is a natural solution to this issue. A channeling of... of the productive energy towards a productive cause. Don''t you think?"


    "You''re still on that?" The bearded man sighed, "no, of course you are. That is the whole idea behind this occasion in the first place, innit? Well it''s not up to me, it''s your own guildmaster ya need to convince, Linel."


    "I completely understand," Scratch lied, "I hope you will stay for dinner at least."


    "Of course I will."


    Scratch handed Harkness his drink. "Will you excuse me? I''m needed elsewhere," absconding as soon as his business was done, "I''m sure you two have a lot to discuss. Regarding... violence- I dunno."


    "So," the man said, as soon as Scratch was gone, "I understand ya hacked on of our members'' arms off."


    The constable cussed internally at Scratch.


    -


    There was still an hour and a half of aimless chatter and drinks to go through before the food would be served.


    Scratch''s parties were like that. He liked making people wait on him.


    Or maybe he just liked talking.


    Harkness looked on with tired eyes at his Baronet making the rounds between officials and doing his best to chat them up.


    Adventurers were disturbingly at home amidst the den of monsters.


    Only the guildmaster, Linel, didn''t receive the goblin''s personal attention.


    Feigning interest in his interlocutors during that crawling time, Harkness kept him in the corner of his eyes always.


    If there was an attempt by the baronet to subvert the authority of the guildmaster by going around him, he didn''t know on whose side he was.


    Scratch didn''t deserve his title, but Linel acted like he already had one.


    Glancing over the attendants like that, his eyes met those of Lydia. The daughter he had disowned.


    There were no other bandits inside the building while the esteemed guests were there, but her relationship to the baronet apparently warranted an exception.


    He averted his gaze. Couldn''t stand looking at her.


    She had changed more in these five years than in the ten previous ones.


    No longer was she called by the Harkness name that had been stripped of her, and the old vestiges of nobility had been discarded.


    In the room, absentmindedly stroking the baronet''s head, was a wolf of a woman.


    Wild hair, wild eyes, and adornments of fur and teeth.


    It aggravated him to no end that she could live so blithely, unconcerned with the life that she had thrown away.


    The incubus were there again, whispering in Scratch''s ear.


    It still had that appearance, that shameless celebration of her sins.


    It was supposedly a captive monster, Scratch never missed an opportunity to let it advice. He nodded along as the demon''s obscene tongue flicked back and forth while speaking.


    Then, when it had finished, he clapped his hands. "Everybody! I you would follow me to the dining room, I believe our entree is ready.


    -


    If there were any company the Promise had any hope of impressing with their creations, it would be adventurers'' guild.


    The hardy survivalists were not the first to insist on the precise etiquette of nobility, and they were the most delighted at being served rare and dangerous monsters as food.


    The seating had been arranged such that Harkness sat next to Linel at one corner of the long table, so that the guildmaster had no neighbour other than himself. Not likely by accident.


    The evening was dominated by Scratch, extensively describing the meats and ingredients of every course, and regaling the guests with wildly unbelievable tales on how this or that creature was caught and prepared.


    The adventurers were in the palm of his hand.


    And whenever there was a lull in his spotlight, when they paused to eat and the guests broke up into smaller conversations, the demon was there. Very much unlike a captive. Whispering into his ear.


    Eventually, even Linel had to break silence. "How can you condone such blatant demonic subversion, constable?"


    Harkness side-eyed him and took a drink. The goblins had seen fit to pair their fancy dinner with heavy liquors. "The count condones it. I suppose it''s his belief that one can not get much more corrupted. Than being a goblin. No actual *citizens* live in his territory. Anyway."


    "Hellscape," Linel muttered under his breath. Clearly not having enjoyed himself as much as the others.


    "I take it. That you are not to keen on moving here. Then."


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    "Not over my dead body!" He said a bit too loud. "I don''t know what Scratch''s agenda is, wanting the guild house in this place."


    "I believe the idea is to revive the culling. But under Promise supervision. Targeting rebellious tribes."


    "No, that''s not the reason, that''s the excuse. He must want-" He stopped himself mid speculation. "Anyway, it''s preposterous. The adventurers'' guild is for humans. I won''t allow it."


    "And it is your call. Isn''t it?"


    "I am the guildmaster, aren''t I? Everything that happens to a local branch is up to the local guildmaster. Even the region overseer can''t force me into any decision, only replace me."


    Harkness smiled darkly, "then I suppose you must be wary. That the overseer doesn''t enjoy himself too much. Today." He nodded towards the bearded man, who was happily clapping along to Scratch''s impromptu musical number.


    "No. He and I are on the same side... of the issue."


    "I see."


    After that, they managed not to speak again for the entire evening.


    <hr>


    After the party, the sun had gone down, and it was a considerable travel distance back to Eston.


    Fortunately, all invitees had considerable magical might and were in the company of mages, who could their party back to whichever city in the region they would so choose.


    However, one guest did not leave so early.


    Chatting out on the starlit trees, overseer made as if to leave alongside his subordinates. Supposedly all the way back to the region headquarters in Linefort.


    But when he was the last person standing on that paved road he killed his candle-light spell instead and snuck back inside under the cover of night.


    Overseer Brent was not a member of the Thieves'' Guild. He simply took their money.


    He had taken their money to make Linel guildmaster in Eston. He had taken their money to escort his underlings into the fairy forest. And he had taken their money to aid in the secret mission of an F-rank adventurer.


    That last thing had come to bite him in the ass, and it was the only reason he had accepted the invitation to the goblin baronet of the Promise''s dinner party.


    The girl had squealed to the baronet. Now the letter burning in his breast pocket had dropped some not-so-subtle hints at his guilt. It was time to nip the whole thing in the butt, before it could hurt his professional reputation.


    -


    The baronet sat leaned back at the head of the dinner table, with his feet upon the table.


    His was scraping a desert tray with his fingers and did not notice the overseer sit down.


    "I coulda ragged ya, before you ever knew what happened, innit?" he said.


    The goblin looked up with a finger in his mouth. "You sure have a way with people."


    The man relaxed his shoulders and leaned back, the gesture allowed him to surreptitiously take stock of his surroundings.


    Scratch wasn''t naive, there were bodyguards looking on from hidden places. But they would be no match for him, he was a rank C mage. He had the ability to stop time.


    But violence wouldn''t get him what he wanted right now.


    The wrestled the letter he had received from his breast pocket (it had been stuffed back in its ripped open envelope), and threw it into the cleaned out desert tray. "Where is the girl, then?"


    Scratch fished it out with his clean fingers. "The girl is safe, in Eston."


    "Hmm, guarded by your three dozen or so werewolves ya mean."


    He looked at him. "...Hopefully, you didn''t come to bargain for the idiot back."


    A shimmer of powerful magic rose up around the two of them, the overseer baring his fangs. "I d''nae come to *bargain* for *anything*. I accepted this invitation out of... let''s say goodwill, yeah? ''Cause I like you, and the wee little performances you put up in this silly carnival. I''ll warn you now that you have only survived for as long as ya have because the major servants of the Liege have more important matters to break their heads over than some piddlin'' wyrm shards. If ya want to continue as you are for any while longer, it is best not to *catch* their *attention*."


    Scratch nodded. "I can see that you-"


    "You d''nae see anything. I''m telling ya: stay meek and stay silent." The overseer spoke over him.


    They stared at each other for a couple seconds longer.


    Then Scratch spoke again. "How does 2-point-five million sound?"


    "Wot?"


    "In gold. Two-and-a-half million over the course of a year. That''s our projected revenue for if you started selling sweet crimson in Linefort. One of my boys has become quite the math prodigy, you can trust his numbers."


    The overseer was completely knocked off of his train of thought, and was rolling on top of the plains of empty thought as it raced by him. "What are you talking about?"


    "You like money?" Scratch said slowly and condescendingly, despite his better efforts, "you get money. We bribe you."


    Finally, the words clicked together. "Yer saying you have the resources to set up the whole of Linefort with crimson?"


    "With you as our middleman, of course. We have deliberately avoided supporting the businesses of our rivals. But we can extend our supply to meet any reachable demand. Against... certain assurances."


    The overseer stared at the eyes of the wolf woman that lit up the dark in the far side of the room. Then he began to laugh.


    "Hahaha! So ya damn near threaten me with your little note, and you put be in a bad way. But, when I arrive, I got to hear that you plan to buy me out!"


    "Of course I plan to! Brent. You should have told me sooner that you were a rational man! I mistook you for a goon you know, one of his servants. It wasn''t until this week that I found out you''re a man after my own heart, when you showed that you''re in it for yourself."


    "Hey-hey." The overseer cooled the mood with a sudden rebuke. "I have principles. I''m not some two-timer that can''t be trusted you know."


    "But you''ve taken money against the Liege''s interest before, haven''t you?"


    "I- And what of it?"


    "Listen," Scratch shook his head, "the way I see it; people like use two, who have no principles, are the only people that *can* be trusted. We can always be relied on to act consistently self-interested, can''t we Brent? And I can trust that you''ll stay on my side for however long it pays better than betrayal."


    Brent swallowed his protests. "How much pay are we talking about exactly?"


    "Two-and-a-half million in a year."


    "You know... alright!" It didn''t make much sense for him to insist on faux respectability in front of a goblin anyway. He had taken enough bribes to know what he was by now. "Yeah. To being in it for the money!"


    "I''ll drink to that." Scratch grabbed two unfinished drinks from the table and handed him one.


    They clinked them together.


    "Cheers. So what''s the assurance?"


    "Fire Linel. Get me someone that''s willing to move the guildhouse to the Promise. You know, someone... malleable."


    Brent nodded. "I can do that, but I need an excuse, don'' I? Can''t just replace him for no reason."


    "You''ll get your excuse. Your excuse and your Crimson."


    <hr>


    It would be some time before the Liege''s influence in the region would be cut off. In the meantime, regular life went on.


    The household took care of laundry, tanned hides, and trimmed the plant-life.


    And at the end of the week, they set out to patrol the territory.


    A battalion of horseback riders, coaches and many wolves set out of the front gate, looking much more like an oversized hunting party than a military troupe.


    While the hobgoblins blew their horns and galloped forwards in the freedom of the unwalled road, Scratch and Lydia had their private coach riding in the back.


    She sat on her knees on the floor, her head resting on his lap. "Scratchie?"


    "Mhm?"


    "What''s the real reason for pushing the guild to change locations? Do you really believe that would stop these incursions?"


    He looked down at her.


    Her eyes had changed colour since she had first obtained the wolf spirit. The thoughts and shapes of werewolves could often leak into each other, from man to wolf and vice versa. But Wendy and


    Harkness had melded into each other deliberately, so that even in her human form she had a wolfness to her.


    Her personality had changed as well. She no longer spoke in the halted manner that her father still did.


    "Well, it has to be a little true." He said, "after all, it''s not like there''s no goblins to kill at all. We just have to show them what banners belong to the rebellious tribes. It will make these patrols safer if we have the muscle suppressing the rebels and monsters."


    She stared up at him, saying nothing but staring expectingly. There would be a ''however''.


    "...However," he relented, "and I can''t imagine they haven''t seen through this, the real reason is to grant our town a crumb of legitimacy."


    "You are still afraid that, at any day, the count can rescind your title and occupy the land." She said.


    He sputtered, "well he can, can''t he? Wasn''t there news from the border? That the Blurich kingdom has, among its demands for the peace treaty, the demand that we two specifically are executed?"


    "Oh Scratch. The Blurich crown has been making long lists of ridiculous demands on our kingdom ever since I was a little girl. They''re not truly interested in peace."


    "Well... anyway, the count has an excuse if he ever feels like it. But luckily, this society is wacky and the state does not enforce a monopoly on violence. There''s also the adventurers'' guild."


    She buried her face in his thighs. "Hmm. The adventurers won''t fight on our behalf if the king declares us outlaws."


    "You say that but... the adventurers'' guild is an independent, stateless enterprise. Right?"


    "It is."


    "And it controls the largest collection of combined manpower there is."


    She sat up to look him in the eye at the earnestness of his argument.


    "I think that, if the guild really likes this location, the state would be rather inclined to keep their viewpoint in mind. At least more so than, say, the cobbler''s guild."


    Lydia mulled it over. "Sure enough, that is correct. But only if they *really* like it. The greater Eston region is no adventurer''s playground howeverr, there are no rare materials or challenging monsters.


    Unless you intend for them to explore our dungeons..."


    "Don''t worry, I''m not endangering Ritter''s precious wyrm shards. That guy scares the hell out of me. No, it''ll be rebel suppression most of the time. The plan is to overpay for it, a little protection tax if you will."


    "I shall trust in your wisdom." She said.


    A horrible racket came from outside to wagon, as the hobgoblins clashed with a well-armed goblin throng.


    Scratch''s ears pricked up, "ah, talking about rebels, they-"


    But Lydia had already assumed her wolf form and jumped out of the window.


    -


    The moon was out that night.


    Their magical vision showed them the geometric lines and shapes beaming down from the celestial body onto the surface.


    The favored territory was more farmland than forest, but outside the outer wall there was still a sea of greenery. The moonlight couldn''t penetrate the thicket of winter branches and it had a dark and mysterious aura.


    That forest was filled with magic. Wyrm shards from the second segment that had been converted into small dungeons.


    They were the most common target for dissenting tribes, who saw them as potentially useful weapons or bargaining chips against the Promise. Or, for the more naive broodmothers, as treasure to sell once she ditched her sons for a new start in who-knows-where.


    There was an index of loyal and rebellious tribes, and what banners they marched under. In theory the enemy could be recognized by the banner they had with them, or by the lack of a banner as it may.


    However, usually they could be identified easily enough by their decision attack the patrol on sight. Goblins were childish by nature and not the greatest tacticians in large groups.


    It had become routine now for the hobgoblins to slaughter rows upon rows of poorly equipped boys rushing at them from the underbrush, and they felt nothing doing it. But Scratch averted his eyes.


    Only when they were dead did he step out of the coach to discuss it.


    "I think these are Mira''s." Jasper said, "they''re all newborn."


    "That woman... she''s destroying her body churning them out like this." The father sighed.


    "Either that, or she has captured women to breed for her." Lydia suggested ominously.


    "Do we know what they were doing here?" Scratch asked.


    "Mira has been moving from place to place with her core family," Jasper said, "we think these raiding groups are food scroungers. They orbit the brood mother. So when we meet them, she has to be nearby. Maybe half a day''s walk? We let one escape."


    "A-ha. To lead us back to the pack, very clever."


    Jasper nodded, "It''s like we do when hunting pigs."


    "I''m sure Jasper remembers we have tried something akin to this with Mira before," Lydia commented, "I was able to follow a boy to her location, but by the time I had summoned the kids she had already moved."


    "They''re like a whole tribe," Scratch said, "are they really that stealthy?"


    "There are wind magic spells to cover one''s tracks."


    "Mom, what if you take a few dogs with you this time and attack Mira immediately once you see her?" Felix suggested.


    "The group has to be weakened by now, you''ve been harassing them for months." Scratch mentioned.


    "But will the boy make the same mistake."


    "Absolutely."


    "Yes."


    "The big drawback of using a constant supply of newborns is that your troops aren''t accumulating wisdom," Scratch elaborated, "that''s how our system replaced the feral tribes in the first place."


    "Then I will stalk the survivor," she said, "will you continue the patrol over the main road?"


    "Sure, we still need to deliver the sluts at the hotspring their groceries and listen to the proper colonies'' complaints."


    "Then I will see you tomorrow." She crouched to kiss him on the lips and then transformed.


    As was her way, she was gone within seconds. Trotted off with two wargs.


    -


    Continuing on it would get too lonely for Scratch to sit in the coach by himself, so he attached himself to the throughbrace of the wagon and leaned from its side the wind in his hair.


    This way, he could freely converse with the hobgoblins.


    "Are the sluts dangerous?" Jasper asked.


    Scratched raised his eyebrows. The crass language felt out character for the gentle boy, but he was only copying his father.


    Hobgoblins even more than their smaller brethren, would often adopt words in their vocabulary long before figuring out their exact meaning.


    "No, not to us. They can do some damage, but we''re the only ones supporting their lifestyle. They wouldn''t dream of hurting us."


    Jasper seemed more focused on keeping the horse in line with his legs than listening, but he continued the conversation to be friendly. "You always used to say humans never do anything that isn''t in their self-interest, but you don''t say that so much anymore."


    "I suppose I don''t...", he looked at his son struggling to dominate the equine, "you know I''ve been taking a lot of what the wretched little pervert has to say into account. He seems better at predicting people than I am. I still maintain that... as a group... over the long term, human beings can''t deny the natural path. But I''ve had to come to terms that there are plenty of people like your grandad in the world as well. Irrational, blinded by ideology."


    "So the sl- so Laurus'' girls..." Jasper had subconsciously caught sight of Scratch''s reaction at the word use and changed his way of speaking, "they''re not blinded by ideology, are they?"


    Scratch laughed, "oh boy! No they are not. Cruel maybe, to their boytoy, but definitely rational."


    Their conversation fell quiet for a bit as they looked on at the wildlife going by.


    Jasper smiled broadly.


    "What''s gotten into you?" Scratch asked.


    "I''ve never seen you so happy for so long at a time!" Jasper laughed.


    "What? Am I so serious? I''m happy more often, aren''t I?"


    "Yes, but then you start thinking." Jasper imitated his thinking expression, which was tremendously contemplative.


    "Hhm, very funny," Scratch said, not laughing in the slightest at his impression, "you should join the circus."


    They didn''t speak for some more, simply enjoying their moment of peace.


    "I suppose I have been thinking less lately," Scratch said. "For the first time in almost seven years... there''s not so much to think about. We''re rid of outside threats, we''re getting the guild house, and the Liege''s hold is breaking apart. All our problems are solved."


    A raven cawed.


    It had been sitting on the driver''s box for two minutes now, waiting to be acknowledged.


    It was Ritter''s familiar and it had a note tied around its leg.


    Scratch spat on the ground. "Teach me to knock on wood."


    <hr>


    The workshop was wide open to the cold mountain air.


    The gates were several stories tall to let siege harnasses walk in and out, and the dwarves kept them swung wide. They didn''t mind the cold.


    Letta shivered as the worker finessed the metal apperatus to the naked skin of her shoulder.


    "Sit still m?dchen, do you vant zhis or not?" He asked.


    Although he was a broad man with a bushy beard he was shorter than even herself. An abhuman.


    She looked at him curiously. In her home country he would probably have been a free man and respected member of a guild.


    In Blurich, he was a slave.


    The shop owner came by to cast her long shadow over her.


    A thin and tall human in a form-fitted military inspired outfit, as all people of status wore in the city. She had a red arm band right below the shoulder with her house''s insignia.


    She had the most striking scar on her face.


    "By zhe vay, I vill not ask you to verify zhese papers. I know zhat zhey are false." She said.


    Letta didn''t move. "I- I..."


    "It does not matter. Ve know vho you are, Brent''s silence is more easily sold zhan bought. However, zhe crime of vich you are accused... is not a crime."


    Letta finally managed to breathe out.


    "Zhe gear should be vorking now." The dwarf said, please try it.


    She stood up and flexed her new prosthetic arm. It was surprisingly light.


    "Aluminum, only dwarven craftsmen are able to mine it."


    "Thank you," Letta said as she began practicing her moves with an imaginary sword, "I''m afraid I wouldn''t be able to support the deception any longer, as I''m sworn never to tell a lie again."


    "Zhe king has ordered garrisons of siege harnesses from redsmiths all over zhe country," the owner said, "var vith Reddington is imminent now. Soon you vill be able to return for revenge."


    "Not yet," Letta balled her prosthetic arm into a fist, "first I need to become stronger. Strong enough to kill a dragon..."


    <hr>


    Fullmetal Gear


    A fullmetal gear is a prosthetic limb to replace one lost in combat, such as an arm or leg. These products are attached to the body by bloodsmiths and are more common in the kingdom of Blurich than in any other realm.


    Adventurers equipped with fullmetal gear are able to outfit it with upgrades, such as hidden weapons, tools, or magic gems. However, be aware that no gear can ever be upgraded to be superior to a flesh and blood limb. Adventurers that contemplate losing an arm to replace it with a gear would do well to remember the lack of maintenance, healing receptability, and dexterity that a real hand provides.


    Fullmetal gear are not by default considered weapons, and a user is not expected to unequip in state buildings or noble palaces. However, they are categorized by weapon grade, and regular citizens may not possess steel gear. Bronze and brass being the most common types.

 Close to Death

    It has been a small age since the Ravenous Lich last contacted you.


    Scratch was trimming sprouts for Second''s crock pot.


    When the meal wasn''t mean to impress it was usually cooked in large batches to serve at least a few dozen hobgoblins at once.


    Quiet had gathered quite a collection of custom cooking implements over the years. The kitchen took up a whole wing of the ground floor and contained complex earthenware contraptions for steaming, curing, roasting, and pureeing. If the boy was going to be the cook of the family, he might as well be an avant-garde cynosure chef.


    As far as family members went, he was the only one that could with any hope of success make demands of Scratch not to smoke his cigar above the food. But he wasn''t in the kitchen right now, so Scratch was puffing away, and communing with the kishin, the evil god.


    Ever since he dumped the bat boy on us, he communicated to him, he''s been content to let us be. The boy reports on us I suppose.


    It is best to draw his attention as little as possible. I do not need to remind you that Pinchin, the evil god of Death and Undeath that he serves strives for the coalescence of all evil gods into one being. Something I desperately want to avoid.


    "M-hm." Is that what you think this will be about?


    I do hope against it. But if any earthly creature has any hope of discovering how, it would be the Ravenous Lich. He has been gathering the secrets of dark sorcery for centuries.


    There''s nothing you can tell me about his dealings?


    Unfortunately not. You know I could tell you about all the underhanded deals and covert activities in every layer of the world. But Ritter does not conspire with minions, he stays in his tower.


    Scratch put his sprouts down, he had decided he was done doing kitchen work and put out his cigar. He can''t be that dangerous then.


    You consistently dismiss the value of personal power! Do not underestimate his sorcerous might.


    I don''t believe in power.


    -


    When he strolled onto the square between the mansion''s wings to look at the kids playing around.


    Their games were military themed as always, and they were two teams of shield walls pushing into each other.


    It wasn''t the kind of game that could be played quietly, and it wasn''t in their nature to ever lower their voice during a competition. So the house was awash with banging and screaming.


    But even through their game, there was a distinct overtone of yelling cutting through the noise.


    It was coming from the gate to the basement, or rather to the dungeon, of which the basement was only one level.


    The hobgoblins happily ignored the incessant yelling.


    Scratch eyes met Ada''s from across the atrium, as she was overseeing the game/war exercise.


    He pointed at the gate questioningly.


    She shrugged.


    Rather than relit his cigar and ask Cyclophan what was going on inside the dungeon, Scratch walked up to it.


    The yelling was high pitched and game from just beyond the door. Which was strange as the entrance wasn''t locked.


    He pulled it open and was met with the vampire hissing and fleeing from the incoming sunlight.


    "Noss. What are you doing?"


    "Zhere you are, finally! I have been calling for you for half an hour. I cannot very vell come and fetch you during sunlight hours, can I? You should have met me down below." The boy complained with his cloak held up against the burning light.


    "Calm down, calm down. We warp after dinner, right? There''s still plenty of time." He closed the door behind him.


    "Time?" Noss grimaced ghoulishly over his cape, "no zhere is no time at all! Ve varp at sunset, yes. But zhe likes of you cannot varp into zhe domain of my master unprepared! You must come vith me now, so I can provide zhe proper auspices."


    Scratch crossed his arms and shifted his weight, then a realization came over him. "Oh, I see. You want to make a good impression, don''t you? It''s been some time since your master put you on this assignment, you want to show you''ve been doing important work."


    "I assure you, zhis is for your own benefit."


    He threw up his hands, "say no more, I''ll come with you. Let''s properly show off your auspices, right?"


    The vampire made a general sort of disapproving noise.


    -


    The auspice in question was an unholy looking ring of bone and obsidian.


    Noss had displayed it on a pedestal on his desk, in the hidden corner of the basement that was his quarters.


    As soon as they arrived Scratch reached for it, but the vampire pulled him back.


    "I have vaited for you, you can vait for me to finish how it vorks and vhy it is necessary."


    "Why do you always insist on trying to explain magic to me?" Scratch sighed.


    "Zhere is no excuse for being ignorant on zhe vorkings of magic, especially since you can perceive magic. Now sit down."


    Scratch looked around and found an empty crate to sit on.


    As he did, Noss retrieved a live rat from one of his drawers. "You are familiar vith zhe elements by now."


    "I am familiar with your definition of it. Elements are things that can only be produced by magic, isn''t that right?"


    "Zhat is not a complete definition, but not incorrect I suppose. Behold, elemental death."


    He held out his hand in front of the rat and, with an unspoken spell, infused it with his deadly element.


    The rat struggled a bit in its panic, but the vampire''s hand kept it firmly in place, and it began to die.


    "Death is not zhe opposite of life, but its shadow. Zhis element attaches itself to zhe skeletal structure and rejects zhe flesh. Eventually, zhe living tissue is shed and a skeletal undead remains. Zo."


    He dropped the rodent on the desk.


    Its eyes had already sunken in and the body shriveled up, but it was still alive.


    There was the faintest squeaking as it tried to gasp for breath.


    "Very tasteful," Scratch grimaced, "you do this sort of thing for fun?"


    "You better internalize zhe gruesome details dungeon master. Zhis vould be your fate if you vere to step into zhe lich''s domain vithout protection."


    Scratch''s expression froze on his face.


    "Zhat is how zhe offensive moniker vas born, zhe mortals experiencing zhe damaging effects of zhe tower,"" Noss explained, "zhey attribute it to zhe master drinking zheir life-force."


    "This ring is what wards off elemental death, then?" Scratch asked, "is it yours from when you lived there?"


    "I vill get to zhe ring in my own time. First, I must show you zhe zombie spell."


    The magic he casted next was not as simple, and he summoned complex sigils around his arm in order to hex the rat.


    When he was done, not much seemed to have happened, only that, on close inspect, the rat was breathing more easily.


    Scratch raised his palms questioningly.


    "Zhere are many types of undead," Noss said, "skeletal undead such as my master, vampires such as myself, specters, and more. Zhey are animated by very different sources, but zhey are all unliving creations made using zhe framework of organic beings. Zhat is vhy healing magic hurts us all equally, because it recognizes she life form underneath, and tries to replace us vith it. But it also vhy elemental death can not poison us, as it does not reject our body."


    And to demonstrate what he said, he bombarded the rat with elemental death once more.


    This time, instead of withering away it sat up and stretched itself. Its appearance hadn''t restored, but its energy had, and it began to explore the edge of the desk.


    "Vhile under zhe effect of zhis spell, zhe bodily processes are halted, and zhe body is animated by an unliving force. Until zhe spell runs its course, zhe subject is harmed by healing magic and healed by death magic. Zhey are, for all intents and purposes, undead."


    "Impressive," Scratch said, "did you create this spell yourself?"


    "If I could only claim zhat," Noss said, "no, it vas my master himself. His teachings are to alvays experiment vith one''s understanding of magic and that, if one finds zhemself vishing a particular sort of spell exists, to develop it zhemself." His chest swelled with pride for his master. "But I vas able to convert zhe spell into a curse. Now you can take zhe ring."


    Scratch took the object, he did detect the asymmetric lines of magical construct wrapping around the small jewel.


    It was just enough to keep itself going and continuously recast the same complex spell every forty minutes.


    Other cursed artifacts would often employ a spell that was redesigned to be an ongoing effect with a constant but low mana requirement, but the boy hadn''t dared trying to alter his master''s spell.


    "Zhe curse spell lasts less zhan an hour, but vith zhis on, you vill be able to survive in his domain indefinitely."


    When Scratch slipped on the ring he was suddenly gripped by a horrible cold in his lungs. He croaked painfully as his breath inverted and he fell to the ground.


    It took a moment to come to grips with his new reality.


    He didn''t have a heartbeat, the air felt terribly cold, and lights were dancing in front of his eyes.


    To all the outside world, he looked like a corpse.


    "You could have warned me." He complained, climbing up from the ground shakily.


    "But zhen zhat vould be no fun for me."


    <hr>


    The the sun hadn''t shone properly on the Rohani steppe for three centuries.


    The air, pregnant with death, collected a roof of dark rolling crowds over the zone, and no vegetation survived there other than a few obstinate grasshalms.


    It was merely gray that day, the sun forcing through a tepid diffuse light from who knew what direction.


    On days like these the forces of order and humanity were increasingly bold.


    The ability to see skeletal undead coming from miles away did much to take away their intimidation factor. And here on the outskirts they spawned only small clusters, making them seem rather defeatable.


    A party of high level adventurers were just setting out towards the Lich''s tower, and the generic fodder monsters did nothing to slow them down.


    "Save your strength," the leader said, "remember that this will be a challenge of endurance."


    "I vould hardly say I am overconfident," the healer responded, "zhis sapping of our life seems small now, but it vill accumulate over time. Ve must be cautious vith even zhe smallest tax on our health.


    Do not let zhese skeletons chip avay at us."


    The leader looked up and down the former bishop and nodded. "I see, then I trust your judgment."


    "Hah! Anybody that thinks they can defeat the lich is overconfident!" The bard, who was a jester, laughed.


    "If it''s up the delusional to save the world, it''s good we''re here. It''s down to our madness guys, so make sure you''re plenty insane!" The leader quipped.


    "Ooh, that''s a good one. That''s going in your song for sure." He said.


    Despite their talk of brazen boldness, they were excessively prepared and delved in strategy.


    The guild wouldn''t allow a rag-tag group of job hoppers to face the strongest area boss the world had ever faced, short of the demon kings.


    They were specially picked and specially trained for the task. After thousands had died trying, they could be the ones to finally defeat the Ravenous Lich and free the steppes of his power.


    Each member was strong enough to withstand the aura of death for a couple of days at least. But their mounts would quickly be felled, so they had to leave them behind and make the trek on foot.


    The first half a day was the most gruesome, as the undead they faced were often former adventurers or peasants, still in their tattered clothes, that had been overtaken by the death aura.


    After that, the skeletons took on a more generic appearance. They had been created from death magic from the ground up, as no regular people would ever have made their way there.


    That''s why the ranger reacted with mild shock and a suspicious caution when he suddenly spotted three young boys standing amidst the horde.


    -


    "Ve couldn''t have varped inside zhe tower," Noss explained for the so-manieth time to Scratch, with accumulating frustration, "zhe lord of zhe vestern stepps vould not allow varping to and fro his abode. Zhat vould be a security risk, no? Zhat is vhy ve valk."


    "If that is so, Fleder, you man-sized tick," Scratch responded with no less frustration, "why did you think it would suit you to build a warping circle in my home, huh?"


    They were bend over the same map of the region.


    It showed only elevation and no roads, so they were at a loss of where they were supposed to meet their supposed escort.


    A couple of yards away Youthere was balling his fists and talking to himself. "Oooooh yes, the pain! The glorious pain! I had never known such torture! Master, you must bring mortals here. They must suffer th- Oh." He looked up to see the adventurers approach. "How nice."


    Scratch noticed the lack of ranting and looked up, "I see. That''s unfortunate."


    "Are you servants of the lich!?" The leader yelled, his weapon at the ready.


    "What are you hesitating for?" Scratch asked him. He turned to Noss, "you''re out of excuses now. You better warp us before-"


    Noss was lying face-first into the yellow dirt.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    The party readied their spells and rushed forward with their weapons, and for a second Scratch wondered if he had made a mistake taunting them.


    But he was spared from having to learn from his mistakes when the shadow of a giant beast appeared between the two sides and stopped the adventurers in their tracks.


    The leader had been in front of their formation, and he was only just able to dodge horse sized claws that came crashing into the ground and sunk into them.


    The claws belonged to an abstract formation of skeletal features. Only its front limbs had fulled touched down, and the body behind it was an endlessly repeating snake of spine and ribs, twisting upwards into the clouds. The head was a canine skull, but longer, and vastly exaggerated in scale.


    "Wellwellwell... well." A smug voice came from the creature.


    On closer inspection, it came from a person standing on top of it. The thin man almost disappeared within the enormity of the creature.


    "Another set of fools to be crushed under the power of the Rohani steppe. How amusingly trite. Be gone with you now."


    The giant maw opened and a blinding light emerged from within. Lighting and thunder crashed over the adventurers and upturned the earth, bathing the world into chaos and violence for a fraction of a second.


    When the attack was over, the air was as still as it had been before. Only the ground where the adventurers had stood and half a mile beyond was replaced by a blackened trench.


    The thin man jumped down, and caught his fall with some wind magic.


    As he approached Scratch and the others, his appearance become clear.


    A human being, but gaunt and deathly, as if under the zombie curse, clad in a black robe and with an earring through his left ear, which was the secret sign by which dark sorcerers recognized each other.


    "I must say, I am disappointed." He sighed theatrically, "I had exp-"


    "Not so fast, fiend!" A voice rang out over the still air. "I have been entrusted vith zhe life of zhese younglings, and I have zhe goddess to support me in zhat holiest of tasks!"


    A light shone brightly from the trench and, pushed several paces back, there stood the healer of the group.


    He had a shield of magic energy in front of him, that had protected him against the onslaught. Its shape almost seemed like the hands of the goddess herself shielding him from harm.


    "Do you now!?" The thin man yelled, "let''s see you revive them after this!"


    He stretched out his arm and the giant monster, which hadn''t moved an inch after closing its maw, suddenly rushed forward.


    The twisting vertical spine rushed down to provide materials for the horizontal part of the beast shooting out like a toy on a string.


    With the speed at which it accelerated, the mind could not ascribe it its true size, until it clashed with its target.


    Just as Noss had gotten up, a shockwave of sound and compressed air knocked the three of them to the ground again.


    But the adventurer stood his ground.


    He was spinning his staff as a white energy stood between him and the undead giant.


    He was being pushed back slowly, but the beast was forming cracks.


    "Abominable creature!" He yelled out, as the skull exploded.


    The rest of the creature was not defeated by the demise of his head, and segment after segment ran into him.


    He smashed them all with holy energy. "Don''t underestimate zhe power of humanityyyyyy!"


    Suddenly, the bones stopped coming.


    They flopped to the ground lifelessly and its tail reaching up in the sky collapsed on top of itself.


    Not because it had been vanquished, but because the thin man was now behind the adventurer, his hand piercing the older man''s back.


    "It''s true, you are powerful holy man. Such power must serve the lich instead."


    "N-nooo..." something green and foul spread into the man and slowly began to overtake him.


    "Vhat''s happening?" Noss asked.


    "Your friend is showing off." Scratch said.


    "Zhat sorcerer? I have never met him before."


    -


    The thin man''s magic eventually served to erase the adventurer''s mind and turn him into an undead thrall.


    But not before the two had an entire conversation about the power of light versus darkness and which side was destined to win.


    After all that the first thing he said to Scratch, when he came to him with the man in tow was "you are late."


    The baronet took a moment to collect himself, but on a fake smile, and offered his hand. "Nice to meet you, Scratch, these are Noss Fleder and some brat, with whom do I have the pleasure?"


    The thin man didn''t shake it. "I am Podesto, the lich''s apprentice, I shall take you to him."


    "Zhe lich''s apprentice? Zhat is impossible, I am master Ritter''s apprentice."


    Podesto flared his nostrils, "were you? Well, you have been replaced."


    <hr>


    Noss didn''t like Podesto.


    What remained of the dragon flew them to the tower, and the vampire was giving him the stink eye the entire way.


    "You''re gonna pout the whole way?" Scratch asked him out loud.


    Noss turned his back to him.


    "How is who''s whose apprentice even a big deal? Like, is it a job?"


    "Of course it''s a ''big deal'' master," Youthere draped himself over his shoulder, his preferred way of speaking was with his mouth directly to his ear, "dark sorcerers know the rule of two. The secrets of dark sorcery are jealously guarded, so the art can only be learned by taking on a teacher. And developing it requires long isolated study, so one can not become truly mighty without an apprentice to enact their will on the outside world."


    Scratch looked at Podesto''s back, he was standing straight with his face to the wind, pretending not to hear them but smiling smugly at the words anyway.


    "I see, makes sense then. I''d take this guy instead as well."


    "You must remember," Youthere said, "that magic users are taught to demonstrate the might of their magic when encountering a fellow mage, to establish the hierarchy. Such was the way with


    Lacrima turning your brood into an amphibian, and such was the way of Ritter summoning a skeletal army in your home. What you saw of our friend Podesto today was no casual display, likely it was his mightiest attack."


    Scratch smiled joylessly, "I was more-so making reference to the poor showing of the other mage. You know, comparison-wise."


    The comment didn''t sit well with Noss, and he was about to bite back, but a fight was nipped in the bud by the spine''s sudden turn to the side.


    The party had reached Ritter''s tower and the vessel moved to wrap itself around the black spikes.


    The smooth bone provided little in the way of grip, and the boys began to be tilted towards a precipitous fall.


    A monstrous depth gaped before them. Miles and miles of tower shrunk from a castle in size to a needlepoint in the indistinct dunes below.


    "Slave. Grab them." Podesto said, and the former adventurer jumped onto Scratch and his familiar.


    Noss had already turned into a monstrous bat, but the other two were saved by the undead creature''s powerful leap, soaring many seconds through the sky before landing onto one of the tower''s outcropped platforms.


    -


    Scratch took a moment to collect himself.


    He hadn''t really seen the tower before arrival, and been disembarked in a somewhat hectic- one could say tumultuous- manner.


    Now he was in the middle of the architecture, and it was massive.


    They were standing on an outcropping from the main tower, of which there were many.


    Bridges towards nowhere that ended in blade-like formations pointing upwards.


    The spikes prevented him from seeing the entire length of the tower stretching out above him, and their current platform, the size of the Promise''s entire main road, blocked the view down.


    So he had no way of taking in the enormity of the tower, only that which was in front of him.


    The main stem of the tower in front of him was wide enough to fill his vision. A pure black monolith of glass and smoke.


    Various skeletal dragons had sunken into its side, taking on its colour, but providing a morbid embossment across its entire surface.


    "Drop them."


    As soon as the apprentice had given the command, Scratch and Youthere were dropped roughly onto the dark bricks floor.


    "My! But what a leap!" Youthere proclaimed.


    "Undead are more powerful the more potential they had in life," Podesta said dismissively.


    "You could have varned us." Noss said, as he transformed back.


    "I could have, yes.... Now then, we have made the master wait for long enough. We shall not dally any longer."


    "If it isn''t for the sake of your curiosity." Scratch added.


    Podesto shot him a glance.


    The apprentice had held off approaching the party in order to assess their power.


    The baronet hadn''t been able to resist hinting that he had seen through it.


    <hr>


    There was nothing in the tower that indicated anybody lived there.


    No windows, carpets, or furniture.


    Only endless open spaces. Stairways, halls, and bridges made of black glass and stone.


    In the very middle was the blackest and most open space, a giant throne room with a cupola as its ceiling almost a mile in diameter.


    The top of the vaulted ceiling wasn''t visible, as a misty reproduction of the night''s sky floated many stories above their heads. Some sort of decorative illusion that only made the hall seem more impractically large.


    The lich was visible from the archway from which they entered. Or rather, his throne was.


    It was more blackness in an already inky fortress, a tower of steps towards an imposing seat.


    The undead minotaur, a tall creature by himself, didn''t fully stand out amongst the vastness of his possessions until they had crossed that distance.


    Podesta was the first one to kneel before the steps of the throne.


    Noss quickly followed.


    "Welcome to my domain!" The lich''s voice rang with amplified volume across the length of his throne, echoing into the hall. "It had occured to me that you hadn''t visited it before. So here it is! What do you think of my dungeon?"


    "It''s rather big!" Scratch yelled.


    "What did you say?"


    "It''s big!!"


    "I can''t hear you. Use a voice spell."


    "Ah, I don''t have my microphone gem with me." Scratch bristled.


    "He was just commenting on the vastness of your wealth, master!" Podesto said, his voice likewise projected.


    "Oh yes. This is all by the power of dark sorcery you know, dark sorcery and Pinchin. Work hard to develop your spells and you too could one day-"


    "Sod this." Scratch shook his feet and began climbing up the steps.


    "Hey!" Podesto sputtered, "none may approach-


    Scratch spun around and showed his open palms. "Am I a threat?"


    "No, but..."


    Not letting the apprentice stop him any longer, Scratch continued up the stairs.


    They were minotaur-sized steps, and it was a tall tower, but he arrived at the lich''s throne eventually.


    "What''s the..." he paused his indignant rant its budding start as he was still panting from the climb. "...point of... this whole torture device?"


    Ritter seemed surprised at the question, for as far as he was able to emote without facial muscles. "Well I... don''t want to be ambushed by followers of the light, do I? My senses rely on lifeforce, not vision. So I need an empty space, free of lifeforms to be on my most alert."


    "I see. Just in case, huh? And the giant aura of death, is that just in case too?"


    "Now listen here, Scratch. You would do well to take me as an example. The poisoned light eradicates all humans that intrude upon my land, while your Promise is swarming with them."


    "I am fond of my humans, thank you very much."


    "Even the ones that want you dead?"


    "Especially the ones that want me dead! Those are the smart ones! But they can''t kill me, you know why?"


    "Oh!? You have crafted a sorcery I am not aware off?"


    "It''s because I didn''t build a giant evil tower and killed everyone that looked at me funny. That''s why. Come on, Ritter, what really came first? The adventurers trekking miles to come kill you? Or the giant fuckoff death-ray? Be honest."


    "Haha," Ritter leaned back, "then you are with the secrecy crowd, who believe the best way to defend a dungeon is to minimize its impact and keep it a secret from the outside world."


    "I guess I am? It''s not like nobody knows about Cyclophan''s tunnel you know. It''s just that everybody benefits by not disturbing the status quo. That''s how you achieve stability, you get people on your side."


    "He''ll fit right in," Ritter said to Podesto, who had just followed the others up.


    "Fit right in what?" Scratch said, slightly alarmed.


    <hr>


    The dungeon lords did not often meet in one room.


    In the first place because any meeting of dark sorcerers was a mercurial affair, prone to sudden explosions of magical violence, and that tension was only made more volatile by the addition of more sorcerers and more power.


    But in the second place because they were united agents in service of the dead god of evil, and when united into one place were an attractive target for the twelve gods.


    Only Ritter''s tower was a suitable fortress against such violence.


    "Zhat bastard. Does he zhink he can make us vait on him like ve are mortal supplicants?"


    The man complaining was Yanis, a spectral undead wrapped in bandages and wizard robes. He was called the Emperor of Secrets by his followers. The two undead were usually superficially pleasant to each other, but that politeness belied a grudging rivalry.


    "Have you still not forgiven him for costing you your apprentice, bambino?" The merfolk sorceress teased.


    She was called Arlette, False Goddess of the Sea, and suspended in a floating vortex of water, adorned liberally with colored beads but not much else.


    She turned to the emissary, who sat at the table in the name of their master. A silent dragoon knight that served Brummun, the Immortal Thunder Dragon. "You''re allowed to talk you know, don''t be shy boy."


    "I''m- It''s not a petty complaint. The Ravenous Lich is showing disregard for our time."


    "Heh."


    From the corner of the room came the bitter chuckle of the last invited dungeon lord.


    Abyss was a tall man in black leather, sporting an enormous magical scythe. He was called the Reaper of Darkness and the only guest there that did not repel the aura of death with a magical shield.


    Instead he absorbed and manipulated it on the outside of his skin, coalescing the energy into a small cluster of skulls in his hand. He considered it more interesting than his fellow dungeon lords and didn''t look them in the eyes.


    "I am willing to endure an eternity of waiting if it will bring me my revenge."


    Arlette rolled her eyes.


    -


    They weren''t made to sit in overly long before Ritter''s arrival.


    He came from his throne room with Scratch in tow.


    Around the table were kneeling servants of each visiting dungeon lord, and while Ritter was able to float right over them, Scratch had to push his way through. "Excuse me... yes, yeah, excuse me..."


    It created an awkward scene as the dungeon lords had to sit there until the goblin had worked his way through the crowd.


    "Thank you for your patience." He said eventually, as Ritter gestured him towards a seat.


    "Scratch is my vassal," Ritter said, "it is he who controls the second segment in my name. So his lands are under my protection."


    "Heh, I get the picture," Abyss said, "very well. I can''t challenge you... yet. So I will order my people to retreat from your territory for the foreseeable future."


    Only Yanis visibly reacted to Abyss'' clear communication of future ambition. A wordless anybody-else-hearing-this gesture. But nobody else joined in his outrage. The threat had been towards Ritter, it was his problem.


    "Scratch, these are the dungeon lords of the overworld I had told you about. Including our newest ally. Since we will be explaining our agreement to him, the vassal might as well sit and learn alongside."


    "I look forward to hearing about the limitless power of the god of evil," Abyss looked at his balled fist, "but you better not waste my time."


    "I zhought you vere villing to endure an eternity." Yanis complained.


    "Boys, remember, no fighting." Arlette said, more to spite them with condescension than to calm them down.


    "Why not?" Abyss smirked, "I''d like to test the mettle of-"


    "A boy thinks he can challenge me?!" Yanis bellowed angrily.


    Their servants were already grasping at their weapons.


    Ritter gestured at them to settle down, but it was a sort of desperate and ineffectual pleading.


    "You must know the most about Malsidious, Yanis," Scratch said, adopting a faint hint of his accent to mirror him, "as I hear you are the eldest of his servants."


    Instantly, the specter forgot his rage. "Indeed I do," he boasted loudly, "I vere a servant of His before the vyrm, before zhe fall of darkness. Today I am zhe champion of Maximo, kishin of slavery, but my agenda does not stop at zhe subjugation of men. It is zhe dark revival itself zhat is my ambition. Once I am zhe champion of zhe god of evil, zhe elements of magic itself vill prostrate before me."


    "Yanis basically started this council," Arlette said, "collecting powerful dungeon lords to combine our powers for the dark revival. But we only recently learned about you, Abyss."


    "Heh. I operate in the shadows."


    "Well.... mi sona,  I am called the Goddess of the Sea-"


    "False Goddess" the emissary interjected.


    "The Goddess of the Sea," she insisted angrily, "because I am champion of Zajjit, kishin of betrayal, and I control her water dungeons in the caves of Grienice. I strive for the dark revival so that I may become the champion of evil and sink the overworld into the sea~!" She sang the last part.


    "Abyss and I have already introduced," Ritter said, "many centuries ago, the Pinchin, kishin of death and undeath, saved me from oblivion and granted me eternal undeath. I have served him ever since."


    "My master is to great to fit in this hall," the emissary said, "so I will speak in his name. Brummum, the Immortal Thunder Dragon, is a champion of Tamber, kishin of destruction. He hopes to achieve the dark revival in order to become more powerful as the champion of the god of evil."


    "... That''s it?" Scratch asked.


    "Why would there be anything else?"


    "Well I am known as Abyss," the tall man said, "and I have claimed all the power I have by myself. I did not receive any handouts from kishin, nor do I serve one. But I have let myself be named champion of Hort, evil god of shadows, in order to fulfill my ambitions. I will wield whatever power I have to to achieve my revenge. By the sound of it, the dark revival is the pathway to all our wishes."


    "Weeeelll, almost..." Arlette chuckled.


    "Ve must combine our empires to achieve zhe dark revival. But only one of us can become His champion vhen he has returned. Who has ze most favor vith Malsidious depends on vitch kishin''s personality vill dominate zhe restored mind."


    "Witch depends on which aspect of evil is the most prominent in the world." Arlette said.


    Abyss calculated for a bit, "what is needed to achieve this dark revival?"


    "A critical mass of wyrm shards must become home to kishin and developed into dungeons," Ritter explained, "eventually the strength of Malsidious will awaken and the shards will unite, the wyrm once more, who will then then destroy the overworld."


    "Wait, haha, hold up." Scratch sputtered, "''the overworld''? That''s were we live, isn''t it?"


    But he went ignored. "However, we don''t know where every shard is," Arlette said, "we don''t know whether they are inactive, controlled by dungeon masters, or held captured by the forces of light."


    "Nor do ve know vhen zhe critical mass of dungeons vill be achieved."


    "Whatever the case, we need dungeon lords to expand their territory and gather up as many shards as possible."


    "But not too quickly~"


    "Each of us is vary of zhe others gaining more power zhan us und increasing zheir chances of becoming zhe champion of evil."


    "It''s a non-aggression pact, for the most part," the emissary said, "but information and magical secrets are shared on occasion, and members will aid each other if they are threatened by the forces of light."


    "Heh. As long as it will aid me in my revenge... it works for me."


    <hr>


    "So the lich just happened to discover the true identity of the Liege?" Barbara asked incredulously.


    Scratch and his two sidekicks had invited themselves for tea at her market-side manor again.


    "Now that I think about it. That''s an awfully convenient coincidence." Scratch paused his attack on the pile of scones he had collected, "Fleder, did you leak my counter-intelligence data?"


    "Yes."


    "Well, there you have it."


    "You realize your speech lost all coherency at the end there." Barbara hissed. "That was just sounds."


    "I could guess zhe meaning."


    "That''s not the point."


    "Well, anyway, we all had a terrible time," Scratch concluded, "lots of violence, insults to our pride, and an impending apocalypse. I think only Youthere enjoyed himself."


    "Oh no master. Demonkind is no servant of Malsidious. We aim for a world steeped in sin and suffering, while that dead god aims to wipe out life all together."


    Barbara massaged her temples, "can we please stay on topic. The liege has agreed to leave us our territory?"


    "His name is Abyss, " Scratch said, "well, his true name is Kato Ken. And he has some beef with the likes of Beatrice Dichtershire. Wants to destroy the world, expects us to help, that about sums it up."


    "We''re not going to do that, right? What does he need our help with?"


    "Yeah... of course he doesn''t need our help. It''s Ritter he-" Scratch suddenly stopped talking and leaned back into the chair, putting his finger to his lips.


    "My master has tasked Scratch vith guarding tze shards of zhe second segment. Zhat is vhy I am here, to oversee and report on him." Noss explained, "it is zhese shards zhat provide zhe pathway to zhe dark revival."


    "...by hosting more evil gods." Scratch added, "but we only work with one evil god. So leaving the whole segment to us doesn''t make any sense."


    "I am sure zhe lich vill-"


    "And why invite me to the meeting, huh? He should know I''m invested in this region and that I''d become recalcitrant at the doomsday scenario. He should know Cyclophan has no hope of becoming the dominant personality and isn''t going to cooperate either!"


    "Scratch!" Noss fumed, "not anozher vord out of your mouth! Zhe master of zhe Rohani steppes knows vhat he is doing."


    "That''s what I''m saying. ''Served him ever since'' you were his apprentice, right? Has he ever tried to teach you worship of undeath?"


    "N-no. His teachings vere of zhe study of all magic."


    "Dark sorcery apprenticeship is a transactional relationship, master." Youthere restated.


    "Who would be fanatic enough to destroy the world but never proselytize? You know the exact words he used to describe Pinchin to me? When he first explained kishin? ''The god of undeath is able to see whatever the skeletal undead see, hear, whatever we hear.'' And who does he send away to live with us? The non-skeletal undead, the one person in his court that''s animated by blood, and not death."


    Noss was stunned, "zhe master... does not vant to destroy zhe world..." he instantly believed in the truth of the statement.


    Barbara leaned in, "and what does this mean for us?"


    Scratch shrugged, "not much. Whether I''m wrong or right, it''s in our best interest to pretend we''re on board but really stall and do nothing."


    "That doesn''t seem like a surefire way to save the world from destruction."


    "Let''s leave that to the likes of Dichtershire."


    <hr>


    Zombie Curse


    The zombie curse is a temporary curse sometimes cast by necromancers. Adventurers under the zombie spell receive damage from healing magic, so one must not heal an ally suffering from the zombie curse.

 Transactional Morality

    The baronet had insisted there would be no slow trickle of increasing adventurer activity.


    The opening of the adventurer''s guildhouse in the Promise had to be a special event.


    So it was on the first day of the culling, with adventurers from all over the region being redirected from Eston towards the Promise, that the new headquarters had its grand opening.


    The main street was filled with lads and lasses, eager to earn some pocket money during the special springtime event.


    It was so filled there was barely room for any goblins there.


    In fact, it wasn''t long before one was kicked to death.


    "You. With us." A member of the knight force sternly said.


    The local guards were not allowed to raise a hand against adventurers, but captain Beauregarde had send some of her most loyal men to oversee proceedings.


    "He was touching me! He was touching me!!" The woman that had killed the goblin loudly protested.


    "You can tell that to the captain." He said, as they all but carried her away.


    -


    "Managgia, so this is already shaping up to be a complete fiasco." Audace cussed.


    He and Scratch were standing in front of the new guildhouse, observing the swelling crowd of combat ready youths that were gathering inside their small town. By now, it was enough manpower to


    sack and conquer their little capitol twice over.


    "No this is good, this is what I wanted," Scratch said, "it''s better when an example is set for everyone at once."


    "So one goblin death''s a fair trade for setting an example. Is that it?"


    "Of course, one life against many, simple math."


    "Pah!" Audace crossed his arms, "in Grienice, lives of regular people aren''t tokens exchanged by the powerful. It''s an equitable society."


    "Well then go back to Grienice man. Oh no, I forgot, you were exiled. Because an equitable society has no place for the likes of you." Scratch''s words were angry, but he was grinning ear to ear.


    Audace hadn''t even noticed how he had begun counting goblins among his own class of downtrodden common people.


    "Managgia."


    <hr>


    "This year''s culling will be a little different." The new guildmaster announced, using a voice projection spell.


    Her guildhouse was as new as she was, and a little unorthodox. It had been made by goblins.


    The hallways were narrow and the open spaces large. All the walls were crooked firebricks held up by concrete arches.


    Even the floor managed to be askew.


    A guildhouse was generally not a complicated thing. The entrance should lead directly into the gathering hall, where the members could sit down to wait or converse, and where room was for a receptionist''s desk and a notice board.


    Behind that were staff quarters, offices, and specialty rooms for training, item appraisal, that sort of thing.


    The Promise had managed to complicate it tremendously.


    The main entrance led into an oversized foyer of sorts, where guests could continue on to the actual main hall or climb a spindly spiral staircase to enter the specialty rooms directly.


    In general, the direction a doorway pointed had no bearing on the direction its destination had, and the narrow spaces within the walls surrounding the hall ran criss-cross besides each other, went vertical as much as horizontal, split, joined, and ended suddenly.


    In short, it was like a dungeon.


    Were she stood, at a lectern, she looked out over a sea of adventurers. But not straight ahead, she was at a bit of an angle from where they came in and where the architecture naturally pointed their attention.


    "Ahem." She cleared her throat. "This culling, you will not be rewarded for indiscriminately killing everything that looks like a goblin."


    This had been made clear to them of course, but it bore repeating.


    "Goblins within the perimeter walls are known as ''day goblins'', they are not monsters. They are subjects of the king, and have earned the law''s protection. However, outside these walls, there are monstrous goblins roaming between the peaceful communities of day goblin."


    "How can we tell the difference?" A voice among the crowd yelled out, it was one of her own guild staff with a scripted question.


    "A system has been derived. Day goblins live in camps and march under one of the approved banner sigils. You will be handed a guide at the entrance when you leave, and the sigils can always be looked up inside this hall.


    Straight ahead, where her lectern wasn''t, metal shields had been placed on the wall with symbols painted on. They were loosely hung over nails for easy removal by the staff.


    "Any troupe that does not have a banner, or that uses a banner not from the barony, is game for you. I am happy to announce that there are more slayable goblins in a ten kilometer distance than there ever were before the culling was banned!" She said, purposefully not counting that far back.


    A cheer went up among the adventurers. Their ostensible purpose was to suppress monster population, but one can never begrudge a working man his job opportunity.


    "And due to sponsorship by the baronet, rewards will be increased. Every left goblin ear is now worth not three, but five copper pieces."


    "You''re kidding!" Her plant said, "that much?"


    "That much! Now get out there! And remember: the culling doesn''t start until you''re outside the perimeter."


    The general buzz of the crowd exploded into full-blown chatter.


    It was too busy to hang around and relax, and anyway they were too amped up now to take a break before starting. But several hung around with questions or complaints.


    Suddenly, the guildmaster''s first day on the job had begun, and she had to assist the overwhelmed guild receptionist in handling the adventurers at the counter.


    -


    There was a last member in the adventurers'' guild that was not present during the morning rush.


    A halfling woman by the name of Mildred. The mage instructor.


    It was already noon when she tried to snuck into the building unnoticed.


    "Mildred? Hi. I haven''t seen you here since the building first began construction," the guildmaster said.


    "Yes! Well. It''s a two-day hike. And I don''t understand the point of this."


    The short woman quickly turned the conversation around.


    "Eston has a warping circle you know! This place does not. And it''s a place where people actually live, so they come by to actually learn about the mage class. I''m an instructor first you know, you can''t expect me to run from place to place in this dump when I have spells to sell."


    The guildmaster smiled enigmatically. "From now on I do expect you to be here, Mildred. The Promise is to become the new gathering hub for our local members, so please make this your base of operations. If your instructor activities are preventing you from doing your regular staff duties, I can take over as mage instructor for the time being."


    "N-no! It''s fine." Mildred quickly backpedaled. She had essentially been threatened with a demotion. "I can be here."


    "Good. Could you please stay to mop the floor after closing? It''s new and we have gotten a lot of foot traffic. Thank you."


    Mildred cursed under her breath. She was still paying hush money to the thieves'' guild, but her contact was the pastor in Eston. She couldn''t keep fitting back and forth.


    There had to be some sort of agreement they could come to...


    <hr>


    Two days later, Barbara came to Scratch regarding that exact matter.


    He was in the manor''s kitchen, staring at a large pile of goblin ears.


    "How do I know..." he slowly deliberated, "... that these are genuine rebel ears? They could have delivered me the ears of my blood related brothers and I wouldn''t know."


    "The broodmothers would complain." She said.


    "Or not. What if they''re in on it?"


    "Birth goblins just to have them killed for 5 copper apiece?"


    "Why not? Don''t they have trouble with people breeding monsters specifically for the slaying bounty further in-land?"


    Barbara sighed and decided to just change topics, "the mage instructor woman came to ask me for a favor."


    Scratch thought for a second, "oh yeeeaah, Mildred. Didn''t she come to exterminate us once?"


    "That was before we knew we were both with the thieves'' guild."


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    "I knew." He said.


    "The priest in Eston takes bribes from people that have confessed major crimes. Hush money."


    "Naturally."


    "She wants to know if she can pay it with me. We can pay it out to him via the smuggling route, right? I''ll ask for a commission of 1/20 and we''ll split it."


    Scratch raised an eyebrow. "That would be... three quarters of a silver piece to both of us each month."


    "Pure profit. I wasn''t raised to look down on small amounts, they add up you know."


    "Evidently." He leaned back, divested from the ear mount now "...we''ll do it for free."


    "What? Why?"


    "Two reasons. First of all, because it''s a service we are already offering. Anyone can come into the remittance office right across from you and deposit money on someone else''s account. That''s how we encourage use of paper money, it''s how we grease the wheels of industry in our cross-city investments."


    Barbara disapproved, the movement of funds from the Promise to illicit business all over the duchy was a closely kept secret. "That''s for members, not loose associates."


    "I think Mildred''s earned member status by now, she''s been paying for years. It''s a bit too late for her to squeal and claim innocence. I think we can both benefit from closer cooperation. That''s the second reason, by the way."


    Barbara tapped her foot impatiently, looking for something to criticize. "You think remittance supports industry? How could it do that?"


    Scratch looked slightly surprised. "Didn''t we already have a talk about banking? Financial inclusion?"


    Her brow furrowed.


    "Fair enough, that was a few years ago. Let me explain again." Scratch patted the pile of ears, inviting her to come sit down.


    She sat down, but not on the ears.


    "What you described to me as a bank, the, uh, savings account institutions started by the sunflower-"


    "the sunflower hero, yes."


    "Yes. Those are not true banks, they are full-reserve banks, but they do provide something called financial inclusion."


    "They allow merchants to travel without risking their life savings to robbers." Barbara corrected.


    "That''s part of it, sure. But it also allows a father to safely send his adventuring rewards to his family from three counties away. And it allows tradesmen to save money for their senior days, without keeping it under their mattress for any robber to find. All of these examples involve people being able to pursue lifestyles they otherwise couldn''t. Because they''re included in that service."


    "That''s all well and good, but how do we profit? The sunflower bank is a charity funded by the king."


    "Well a rising tide lifts all boats, you know?" Scratch said, as if that were the end of the conversation.


    He returned his gaze to the pile of ears.


    "What the hell does that even mean? Do you hear yourself?" She said, genuinely angry.


    "What? Oh. We are the only investor, and biggest lender by far in the whole country''s black market operations. The more Reddington''s thieves'' guild is able to start projects and businesses, the more we profit as well. Currently, there''s an assassin group in Haddon that is able to buy weapons and poisons from a fence in Hiffield through our remittance offices. That business model couldn''t exist without financial inclusion, and the dividends from their stock already makes up for the whole countrywide operation."


    "A-assassins in Haddon? I didn''t know about that."


    "Well, you''re more part of the smuggling side of things, aren''t you? The small amounts. With the Liege leaving us all this territory, I''ve been meaning to develop it. Payment accounts are just one type of financial inclusion, there''s also things like retail investment, and mortgages."


    "Scratch... what exactly are you planning to do?"


    He looked at her, but she could not read his expression. "Eventually, the lifestyle of an exile must become at least equivalent in quality to the lifestyle of a citizen. That way, we rob the nobility of its power over the peasantry, and we can no longer be attacked. Mortgages will allow bandits to build homes and businesses, when peasants have to be granted a farmstead or rent in the city. If they can cultivate their resources and ensure enough safety... I mean it''s just a general ambition for now. If it fails, at least we''ll have become rich in the process."


    Barbara stood up. "You mean you will have become rich."


    Scratch laughed, but it wasn''t meant to be funny.


    <hr>


    He wasn''t laughing just 20 minutes later, when he had to receive bad news from Cyclophan.


    If things go on the way they are now, peace will stand between the two countries.


    And not on terms favorable to us, will it?


    Nay. The crown has meant for us to be a bargaining chip from the start. Blurich is dedicated to your destruction, and they are willing to make concessions on other demands in exchange for revoking your peerage.


    "I still can''t figure out why," Scratch said out loud, "why is the ruler of an entire nation of 40 million people so honed in on us? How does he benefit?"


    "It is their morality master," said Youthere, who was never far away. "Human beings will throw away all benefit for the chance to feed their virtue. I have repeated this many times."


    "And I know that and I accept it, but there are more goblins in the world. I can''t imagine there''s anything special about us. He must know about the second segment, but is unwilling to make it public for some reason."


    "Tut-tut-tut." Youthere jumped in front of him and wagged his finger, "you are thinking with Reddington morality, not Blurich morality."


    Scratch sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "...Fine. what''s the difference?"


    "As I said before; each of the four realms has a legacy of heroes. It is by mimicking the heroes of their stories that the people pursue virtue. Reddington has stories of dragon slayers, dungeon explorers, and clashing armies. Blurich has stories of succubus slayers, exposers of cults, and the rooting out of doppelg?ngers."


    "Okay? So they''re the same."


    "The difference is night and day, master! The heroes of Reddington defeated monsters that would attack the kingdom, the heroes of Blurich defeated monsters that had infiltrated their communities.


    Their greatest nemesis is a monster that makes peace with the nobility and walks among the peasantry unmolested. As you do, with your pretensions of civilization."


    Scratch decided to ignore the jab at his pretensions.


    If that''s true, then there''s nothing we can do to call sate their hatred. Cyclophan whined fatalistically.


    "There''s a whole ''nother country between us and them, I think there''s something we can do." Scratch insisted.


    "Isn''t it funny?" Youthere said, "the paragons of purity believe monsters are their death and they root them out in the name of life. But they can not live without an enemy to hate, they need to feed their virtue with the killing of infiltrators, so they spiral into ever stricter dogma trying to find them."


    "You must like them." Scratch said.


    Youthere looked at him very seriously, "as a demon I revel in all sources of suffering and confusion, but from the ranks of their lot there can never come a demon king. The demon king must not be confused on good and evil, they must know good and they must know evil, and then choose to be evil."


    "A high bar."


    "But I know you can clear it, master."


    "Hold your horses Moriarty, I don''t believe in good and evil. I transcend such notions."


    "Still, I do have faith in you."


    I believe I know how to stop it.


    Youthere?


    The peace.


    <hr>


    The devil altar in the underground cavern had grown into a mystical emporium over time.


    The design principles that channeled the dungeon stem through crystals in sanctums could similarly empower the black slab of the altar, the same as it had been when it still stood directly on the wyrm shard.


    Tents of silk and golden thread enveloped the thing, which trapped and swirled around the magic pouring in from above, so that it drained in a whirl through the central location and out underneath, pooling in the channels with the toxic byproduct of industry and disappearing towards the underworld.


    Unlike a sanctum, a devil altar would not exhibit a constant magical effect. It did not release the captured magic into a static spell, unchangingly etched into the lattice of a crystal. Rather, it allowed Cyclophan to exert his will on the world directly.


    Scratch had avoided letting his children get too close to it.


    -


    The constant orange light of the foundry shone through the silken curtains as it always did, bathing the pathways between fabric walls in an evening atmosphere.


    The trolls guarding the devil altar were therefore fast asleep, as they always were.


    Scratch whistled. "Wake up. Look busy. The boss is here."


    They startled awake and began rearranging furniture pointlessly. The room surrounding the altar was like a storage space of reagent containers and stepladders for people of different heights to use it.


    There were instances where the rearranging of furniture could have really helped them put on the appearance of productivity, but this was not one such occasion, and they quickly slowed down when their awakened minds caught up with the situation.


    "I''m looking for a mirror." Scratch declared.


    He was handed a small hand mirror, but he gave it bag.


    "Something man-sized please." Then he deposited himself onto the black slab. "So I just sit here?" He asked, but the trolls couldn''t answer his question.


    "Well okay then..." he continued as if it had been answered. "Boys, I''ll be out for a bit. You two will keep watch, yeah? And find me a proper mirror."


    They nodded.


    -


    Seconds later, Scratch was communing with the abyss.


    He experienced a suddenly falling sensation as his consciousness plunged into the blackness.


    He had seen that emptiness twice before. First when trying to summon a demon familiar, that had ended up being just an incubus, and secondly when visiting another dungeon, when he had seen how it was a physical place that could be bored into.


    Endless nothing loomed underneath him, and in the distance statues of titanic men seemed to be holding up the world.


    But with a calm mind, one could make out the little flecks of light floating around.


    They were the demons that had not yet found a way into the surface world, and they whispered promises in exchange for that chance.


    "Blood. Blood for power."


    "A shadow, give me a shadow and that domain shall be yours alone."


    There were ulterior motives. They only whispered of the sacrifice necessary for the summoning, not the one they would claim once out.


    The way the manabelt on Scratch''s arm needed blood to sustain itself, but it wanted to excrete poison. The way that the incubus in his employ needed Lydia''s dreams to grant him a form, but wanted to corrupt leaders into sin.


    "Mirror demon." He said to the will-o-wisp before him.


    Cyclophan could summon demons that fit his nature towards him, though be what mechanism wasn''t clear. There were no lines of magical energy visible anywhere in the darkness.


    "The evil god of guile and trickery is able and willing to summon shadow demons in every corner of my dungeon," Scratch said, "mimics in every box, grues in every room, and those... weird... spider things. So why do I have to come down here and negotiate like I''m trying for another familiar? What''s your deal?"


    "... You have consorted with a demon of temptation..." the mirror demon whispered in a breathy non-voice.


    There were 777 species of demons, 111 for each of the seven families of sin. Scratch had found Youthere outside of the regular selection of shadow family that Cyclophan had served him.


    "So?"


    "... we are... not aligned..."


    "Listen. Tell me what your deal is, I see what I can do."


    "...you wish for cloak and dagger... you wish to turn man against man and call forth the horrors of war..."


    "That''s my deal. What do you want in return?"


    "You will grant this one a mirror... This one will inhabit the mirror.... Your will be done." The speck of light began to float into Scratch to settle the deal.


    But he was having none of it. "Hoooold... your horses. The interview is still ongoing, tell me what you really want. What''s the catch?"


    The demon hesitated.


    "I''m not judgmental, if it doesn''t affect me we''re cool. But I warn you not to lie to me."


    "I must serve the demon king..."


    "There is no demon king on the surface."


    "...the family of shadow has already chosen who must become the demon king... we must bring about his corruption."


    "You can do that while bringing about my war?"


    "...we must."


    "In that case, pleasure doing business with you."


    -


    "The pleasure is all mine."


    The next thing he knew, Scratch was back on the devil altar and looking at his reflection.


    The troll had placed polished silver in front of him, and a toothy smile was grinning back at him.


    Not that Scratch was grinning himself.


    "Now that you''ve brought me into this world," his reflection said, "you gotta bring me my target. Right now I just animate reflections, once I get the right reflection I can jump out an'' ice ''em. Then I can replace him as a physical body."


    "You talk differently than you did before." Scratch said suspiciously.


    "Yeah, I copy everything from whoever''s form I''m taking- get your fat fingers away from the glass," the demon commanded the troll. Who, while holding the device, had curiously bend over and tried to touch the moving reflection, "you''ll smudge it."


    "Well okay then, handsome. You have a plan, or what?" Scratch said.


    "Bring me some official that''ll be at the piece talks. It doesn''t matter who. I replace them, start and incident, maybe assassinate someone we''ll see, and make sure that war breaks out between Reddington and Blurich."


    "And after that?"


    "After that I''ll be free to pursue my own agenda. As a shadow demon, I will naturally seek out our chosen demon king."


    "That''s fine, I-"


    "The Reaper of Darkness, lord Abyss."


    <hr>


    Doppelg?nger


    Family: Demon


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 1 silver piece


    Doppelg?ngers are a type of demon that impersonates people. As demons, their appearance indicates either the existence of a dungeon far along its growth cycle, or extreme corruption and sin within a community.


    A doppelg?nger follows the appearance of a specific individual, and can not be told apart from the original via physical traits. However, a doppelg?nger does not possess the prowess and magical capacity of their target and as such is easily slain.


    Doppelg?ngers are known to kill non-adventurers and attempt to take over their lives. For this purpose, they have the ability to enter mirrors, share memories, and become invisible in the shadow.


    As they possess human level intelligence, they will attempt to isolate their target from those that might help defend against it using confusion and manipulation.


    Suspected doppelg?ngers that have already replaced their target must not be killed immediately, as a holy ritual by a church affiliated is needed to prove their true nature.

 Trust of the Master

    Benesant sat discontent on her throne.


    She could see everything the sunlight touched, so the underworld was inaccessible to her.


    Somehow, though, she knew that the blight had entered the abyss again.


    Now she regretted not only incarnating him into her newest world, but reincarnating him in the same world again.


    It was a failure of her own imagination that she could not imagine a better prison than a subhuman body.


    Now he had brought another demon into the overworld, strengthening its evil and weakening the power of good, even if it was only by a tiny amount.


    The abyss wasn''t like the celestial realm in which she resided. It housed immaterial beings, yes, but it overlapped with the material world. It allowed creatures of much lower power than a god to communicate and make deals with mortals.


    Benesant rapped her fingers against her white throne in frustration. The forces of evil seemingly had all the advantages in this world.


    She could have acted sooner, but she had seen the future of another world, and had let her plans be consumed by the opportunity of that singular outcome.


    It was too late now too regret her inaction. The opportunity had come.


    -


    When a soul that had been bound to her divine essence escaped its mortal vessel, it appeared in her domain. But dazed.


    The follower that had given her life in the name of Benesant slowly returned to consciousness in front of her.


    "Sanadora. Rise."


    "My goddess." The woman immediately bowed before her.


    "I said ''Rise'', Sanadora."


    "Yes, my goddess."


    Although she had not had the time for her body to mature in her last life, she now stood in the celestial realm as a grown woman. Long red hair and a combat scarred body.


    It was the form her soul recognized.


    "Our mission in the world of Cradle is fraught with difficulty, my goddess." she said, "the more we battle corruption, the more we turn the powers that be against ourselves. My body was destroyed, not by an evildoer... but by a peacekeeper. I do not understand it."


    "I see. But Cradle is behind you now. My next task for you is to return to Lite."


    "You do not wish to hear my report on your holy mission in Cra-?"


    "I can see perfectly well in the worlds you visit Sanadora, I do not need to hear your opinion on them. This concerns the blight you have eradicated on Cradle, it has once again become a source of corruption. This time in your home world."


    The goddess summoned a vision of Scratch, and the dungeon that had grown underneath the Promise.


    "The leader of the syndicate? H-how? How did he enter the world of Lite?"


    Suddenly the goddess'' face grew incensed, "he is in an as harmless place as was possible to place him. I assure you that. Know better than to question your goddess Sanadora." she said defensively.


    "I- understand. But, what power does he possess to bring this about in a manner of days?"


    Benesant dismissed the image. "It has not been mere days. Time in the world of Cradle, it would seem, moves at a decelerated pace compared to the other worlds. Centuries have passed since you have last left Lite, and 7 years have passed since you have cleansed the syndicate leader and he became an old soul."


    "Inconceivable... Then the others..." Including Sanadora, three of the five old souls that had come to Cradle were originally from Lite.


    "Normally, I would not consider returning you to your previous world to flaunt your reincarnation as a miracle of immortality." Benesant said. "But since so much time has passed, and your name has faded into history, I consider it acceptable to return you. To fight this enemy once again."


    "Yes my goddess." Sanadora bowed, then she scrunched up her face, "however..."


    "Yes? Out with it."


    "If the enemy has stolen access to the celestial eternity then my spell..."


    "I shall divinely inspire in you a new spell, as I have done before. One with the power you know, but that can also hurt the body of an old soul."


    "Thank you! My goddess!"


    "Don''t mention it. Now then... it''s time we find you a body."


    Sanadora exited her bow, finally. "Yes my goddess. As long as I live in your service, worldly prestige matters not. Even a peasant birth will suit me."


    Benesant was wading through the unknowable threads of fate, and not looking at Sanadora directly. "A peasant body will not suit you, Sanadora. When you first became my servant I granted you strength beyond strength, I''m sure you remember. A body is nothing more or less than an expression of the soul''s features. For you to be born in Lite, a child must be conceived with your essential features. Let''s see..."


    "Have my essential features not changed before?" Sanadora asked as politely as she could. She walked around the goddess, trying to catch a glimpse of what she was searching through. But the visions remained invisible to the mortal. "Surely as an elf-"


    "Your race is not of importance. Your affinity to fire magic is, as is the divine potential I have granted you- Ah, there we go."


    "So when will I-"


    -


    "Master, master, come quickly! Your daughter has been born!"


    The leader of the windswept warriors quickly rushed towards the maternity hut and pushed away the midwife.


    "Darling! Look!" His wife said, "she has your eyes!"


    "And she already has your red hair." He said lovingly.


    "Father," the child said, "I must cleanse this world of corruption."


    "Aaaaah!"


    <hr>


    "Yes! Guys! I''ve got their banner!" One of the adventurers cheered as he ran towards his party members.


    "Tim, you ape! What''d you do that for? Now they''ll come after us with all their might!"


    Kayla was annoyed, they had agreed that she was the leader. But nobody was following any sort of chain of command.


    "Aw! But the quest board said wild goblin banners are worth 3 gold."


    "Really? Three gold!?"


    Her mood immediately changed, 3 gold was the same as 30 silver. More than their haul in culling rewards so far.


    She snatched it out of his hands.


    "Hey!"


    "It should go into the communal loot sack. We agreed that we''d split the awards equally, didn''t we?"


    She stared greedily at the piece of cloth. If adventuring was this profitable every week, they should definitely make it their career.


    "Incoming!" Their ranger announced.


    Too late, as a pebble from a sling hit her harshly in the side.


    "Agh! They''re coming for the banner!" Kayla screamed.


    "There''s almost thirty of them! Let''s retreat through the river to break them up."


    "Hey!" She said, "I''m the leader, I give the orders."


    "Then what do you suggest?"


    "... Okay let''s cut through the river."


    -


    It wasn''t that hard to defeat the goblins that had come after them.


    In fact, it was harder making sure other adventurers didn''t get them first.


    It all led to a nice haul and a satisfying conclusion to the adventure. "But," Kayla stated, "I''m still mad you went and did that by yourself."


    "So what''re you guys doing with your share?" Tim asked.


    "First we''re putting aside a party pot, for weapon upgrades and potions and stuff." Kayla said, as that had been the advice her older sister had given her.


    "I''m sending mine home." He said, "so we can finally put a quest on the quest board for getting rid of the giant rats."


    "But still, how much is that per person?" The ranger asked, "got to be a few hundred copper each.


    "If only we had the culling every week, we''d be rich~" Tim sighed.


    "I don''t think the baronet could afford that." the ranger laughed.


    Kayla was silent for a second. "It''s kinda crazy, isn''t it? That a goblin is paying us to do goblin extermination?"


    "The baronet is day goblin though, isn''t he?"


    "I suppose... but aren''t these day goblins we''re killing as well? I mean, they don''t have scabs and pustules or anything either. And they''ve got their own matriarchs and banners... I think these are just rival tribes."


    "Is that... bad?" Tim asked.


    "Of course not. I mean we''re not breaking any laws."


    "No, but- Well I mean we''re sure that the baronet is on the side of justice, aren''t we?"


    "That question opens up a can of worms," the ranger said, "as adventurers we may legally dispense violence outside town borders in the name of the guild. The guild is a supranational organization, but the legal framework it operates under is that of the kingdom. Ultimately, as monarchists, we must rely on the judgment of our nobility to ensure the moral, ethical, and spiritual rule of law. However, that does not absolve us from critical thought regarding our own role in upholding that rule of law, and the possibility of serving an evil regime."


    Tim blinked, "sorry, what was your name again?"


    "Well if the choice is between critically absolving the rule of law or whatever and striking up these quest rewards, I''m choosing the money." Kayla said, and the majority agreed with her.


    That was the only time the legitimacy of Promise cullings was ever questioned among adventurers. As Scratch would have approvingly concluded, it was more profitable not to question things.


    <hr>


    Ma¨¹riel looked on as the adventurers crowded past the caravan, chasing down the last vestiges of panicked rebels.


    "The surface world showeth such brutality." He remarked.


    His brother laughed, "does it not? It means we are finally adults, to be among the carnage. Thy knoweth as I do that all the good books doth show war maketh men out of boys."


    "But we art naught warriors, Sylbor," Ma¨¹riel responded genuinely, "surely thy will find no valor amongst the spinach and lettuce seedlings."


    "You''ll find no pay if you don''t hurry the hell up," the local broodmother grumbled.


    They were out in the unfavored territory. Broodmothers were less nice here.


    "Hath no worry, auntie," Sylbor said sweetly, as he jumped off the wagon holding a tray of pods "the plants shall sleep in the dirt long before the weather can bite them."


    "I''m not afraid they''ll die, you savage. I just have better things to do than watch you all day."


    "Good. ''Cause we require no watching, you canst be on your way." Sylbor suggested.


    "I bet you''d like that," the woman harrumphed, "but I payed for eight hundred crops, I''ma get eight hundred crops. I''ll be here counting them."


    Sylbor shot Ma¨¹riel a glance of shared exasperation.


    But Ma¨¹riel could not share in his frustration. He was impressed by the woman.


    This was only the second time he was on the surface. Well...  the first time really on the real surface, outside the Promise.


    Everybody here spoke sophisticated like Papa Scratch did.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Ma¨¹riel was aware of how his speech patterns had grown after his mother''s. His mother was a kept woman.


    This woman was free. Sophisticated. In charge of her fate.


    "I payed for eight hundred crops, I''ma get eight hundred crops." He whispered to himself, trying out the accent.


    Hearing him talk, Sylbor began to sing. The goblin work song they had been taught since birth.


    "That ain''t working, that''s the way you do it. You get your money for nothing and your chicks for free."


    Soon Ma¨¹riel joined in and they began to plant the seedlings to the music.


    Eight hundred didn''t seem so many.


    -


    Eight hundred was actually very many.


    The adventurers were trickling out of the wilds and over the main road towards the Promise before they were halfway.


    The sun was starting to set.


    "That''s 396, you still owe me fourhundred-and-four more!" The overbearing women insisted, she only got half as much work done herself because she made sure to closely monitor theirs.


    Sylbor swung around his dibble, it was a long staff with a cone-like thing at the end that they used to plant without having to bend over. It hadn''t prevented him from working up a sweat. "Surely thy children require thy attention. A soothing song to lay them to sleep, perhaps."


    "Bah. They take care of themselves. They''re tending to other fields."


    "For what purpose, at any length, doth thou needst such extensive fields?" Ma¨¹riel said suddenly. "Surely, these are more than can fill thy mouths. And the mouths of three colonies hence."


    "Hah! As long as Scratch keeps paying for whatever I produce, I keep making it." She said proudly while removing a root from the tilled earth, "that runt wants to spend his paper on a huge mountain of leftover food? Be my guest. I''ll be exchanging it for real gold." She had a sudden realization. "Don''t you two bloody well tell him that."


    It was illegal for the protected bandit woman of the barony to own gold. They would exchange goods and services for Promise issued paper tokens.


    As long as underhanded token exchange was officially a secret, they were willing to turn a blind eye.


    Sylbor continued with his work, but Ma¨¹riel paused for a moment longer. "Doth father be... uh- stupid with smart people?"


    "Being taken advantage of." Sylbor said, not stopping.


    "Huh?"


    "When one lets another use one as a tool it''s ''being taken advantage of''. That is what the adventurers are, so sayeth elder sister Ada. And nay, father is never taken advantage of. Father is father."


    The woman rolled her eyes and continued working ahead of them.


    "Of course, I wouldst never claim that father is stupid. Just that perhaps, out of kindness-"


    "I shallst tell thee what father hadst told me." Sylbor said sternly. "So thy may see the wisdom of the uneaten leaves; When there is more of an item than there is a need for, the sellers must compete to sell them for ever-lower prices. And when there is less of an item than there is a need for, the buyers competeth to buy them for ever higher prices. Dost the simple truth of this fact show itself to thee?"


    "Aye brother, it doth." Ma¨¹riel picked up the next seedling tray to not be standing idly by. "But how this simple truth produceth these efforts..."


    "Indeed, for I have not concluded. If papa Scratch were to buy these items, with no limit, to a certain price, how wouldst thou say this competition between sellers is affected."


    "So... they wouldst compete more- no, less. Buyers wouldst not lower their prices below the certain price. Once the need is that slight, the broodmothers wouldst sell to the Promise instead."


    "Indeed, and for that; our father hath named this police a ''price floor''. As one can nae sink lower than the floor. Now even the broodmothers who do not test his generosity benefit from this floor, as the simple farms they maintaineth for their flock willst always produce enough money for next year''s shizzo and elemental nature to power the farmland."


    Ma¨¹riel nodded, he had stopped working again to absorb the information. "I doth see the wisdom... however I must object."


    "Ah. Why?"


    "The price never sinketh, then the production never shrinketh and only increaseth. More and more of our money is given to ever larger farms. Surely, it wouldst be wiser to simply provide the seeds the mothers need. There wouldst be less costs and less... waste."


    Sylbor tapped his dibble on the ground and thought for a moment, sure there had to be a reason why Scratch''s way was the wisest. "No..." he said, picking up momentum as he went along, "... for not all colonies groweth their own food. Thy knows how the stone quarry and woodcarving homes haveth not the fertile dirt and spare goblins to farm and sell their crops. The Promise wouldst then decide for the colonies which farm needed to produce how much and which should sell how much to which. That is to say, we wouldst have to decide, and we wouldst have to inspect every field and count every head all throughout the year."


    He concluded, proud of himself.


    "I see-eth now," Ma¨¹riel nodded, ashamed of his own lack of faith, "I suppo-"


    "And we wouldst still be wrong." Sylbor suddenly started up again, making another realization, "broodmothers hath been wrong every year about the size of their flock the next season. Thy says the price floor will always produce more than there is need, and thou art correct. This is by design! The need is ever-growing you see, and todays rations might be only just enough to fill tomorrow''s mouths. Or anyway... it couldst be, and we produce just enough for the worst scenario."


    "Are you trying to wait me out!? What''s taking so long!?" The woman said sternly, but then she softened. "I''m also just trying to make a living. You know, this isn''t the life I''d have chosen for myself."


    Ma¨¹riel sighed. "I''d much rather we wage ware against traitors and the outsiders wouldst be paid to move caravans."


    "Mhm." Sylbor concurred.


    "You''re not the first farmboys to fantasize about being adventurers," the broodmother said, "I remember when I was a young girl I''d used to dream about raiding dungeons for treasure."


    "Trea-sure?"


    "My boy," she said resolutely, now pausing her work herself, "let me tell you about treasure..."


    <hr>


    A dark sorcerer''s library was his treasure.


    The secret tomes and sigils contained therein formed the basis of his power, and they had to be guarded from rivals looking to expand their own.


    Knowledge was power after all, and power shared was a lost advantage.


    The Ravenous Lich had bound his books with undead bones, so that they''d come alive and attack would-be thieves.


    And not for nothing, as many an infiltrator and faux-collegue had come looking to steal the secrets of immortal lichdom.


    Noss'' Fleder''s collection of spells was not nearly as sought after, but he diligently protected them anyway. With a lock on the see-through door to his shelves, and a poisonous scorpion within the case. (He had declined letting the kishin''s mimic inhabit his properties.)


    When Lacrima let her gaze fall over the interior of his subterranean hole she felt, for the first time, the thirst dark sorcerers have for each other''s secrets.


    As a witch it had long been her duty to prevent the proliferation of dark sorcery, and to make sure its practices would not spread. But now the goddess of magic had taken a more lenient stance on her, if not wielding, then at least benefiting from ungodly magic.


    "Put on some light in here dearie, I can hardly see a thing," she said with her eyes directly fixated on the scorpion.


    She wrested her eyes loose. There was a more obtainable treasure in front of her.


    "Candlelight!" Noss proclaimed.


    -


    The light of the spell casted shadows onto the unpolished natural rock boundaries to the vampire''s layer.


    The furniture had been moved aside to make place for the tin plated vat filling up the space.


    It gleamed in the magical flicker. As tall as a man and patterned with valves, gauges, and pipes that snaked over cave''s inside surface like roots.


    "Does the Baronet know about this?" She asked.


    "Ve have not discussed it," Noss said, leaving unsaid how the elaborate machine could hardly have gone unnoticed.


    Lacrima nodded. "Just as well. It isn''t his business."


    The witch has established the dungeon as her stronghold in exile, but she did not truly feel in control. Years of having to go through Scratch to get anything done, countless tiny indignities, had created a sense of powerlessness that she couldn''t put into words.


    Only the Great Work gave her reprieve, and so she pursued it with all the zest of her youth. Pulling the vampiric dark sorcerer along.


    "Vill Alpheba not be present for zhe experiment?" He asked while adjusting the valves.


    "She can be of no use to me here. Continue."


    "I see... Zhen I vill now activate zhe flow of elements."


    The pipes whirred and churned, collecting the magical immaterials of fire, water, death, and various other elemental energies into the tank.


    Through the glass a pixie was visible, trapped in a small cage and cowed by the violent energies clashing around her.


    Lacrima looked on unimpressed, "another elemental weapon? We have both outgrown the search for additional means of destruction, I should think."


    Noss shook his head, "zhis chamber contains controlled elements, not for destruction but for... I vill show you. Please repeat zhe transformation zhat you showed me zhe other day. Remake zhe fairy girl."


    "Hhm..." She raised her hand and cast her spell.


    The pixie''s scared expression changed and became monstrous, as she transformed from a diminutive woman into a large insect.


    "Haha!" He grabbed a lever and pulled it down.


    As soon as the mechanism clicked, the elements rushed together and the inner chamber filled with light.


    "Transformation spells provided by nature and zhe gods vill change zhe form of a creature, but return zhem to zheir previous forms afterwards. As my master taught me, a sorcerer vill not simply accept zuch limitations! I have studied your transformations, and as it happens, zhe reversal can not be removed zo easily from existing patterns. Zherefore, I have developed zhis method of freezing zhe matter in place. You see, zhe elements make and remake zhe body of zhe insect, so zhat it can not change back to its previous form." He gestured proudly as the machine. "Vith zhis method, ve should be able to change your body to zhat of a fairy queen permanently."


    As a spoke, the insect began to thrash around in panic and pain. When, suddenly, it exploded.


    Dark red blood splattered the inside of the glass pane.


    "Vhat!?" Noss quickly turned off the machine.


    "Fleder, you fool. It really is a dark sorcerer''s way to mess with magic he does not understand." She groaned.


    The vampire opened up the vat and put on a glove to retrieve the cage, but the subject had completely liquified.


    "The true form of any creature never goes away," the witch explained, "a transformation spell does not replace it. It overrides it temporarily. Do you understand? When the spell ends the true form becomes the only form once again, you are not preserving the body of a centipede but ripping apart the body of a pixie."


    "I... I don''t understand."


    "If you are going to make changes to the goddess'' perfect spells, at least do it like this... here."


    She grabbed a nearby paper scroll and turned it over so she could draw a magical circle on its back.


    "What I need is a self-sustaining spell that will maintain the false form on my body, akin to a curse, but that does not drain my own mana. See? This is the false form, it is captured from the celestial realm." She pointed out the different elements to the spell as she sketched it out. "So our limiting factor is mobile mana access."


    "Zhat is... inspired." Noss gasped, "I shall retrieve my magical notes. Please continue helping me develop zhe incantation."


    "I''ll... give some notes. But as a witch I of course can not stain my hands with dark sorcery."


    "...Ofcourse."


    <hr>


    Flugelplatz castle was abuzz with the murmur and clinking glass of professional socialites.


    With the cleaving of the mountain in the battle of swordmasters fifteen years ago, the position of the castle no longer provided any sort of tactical advantage, so it stood abandoned for most of the year.


    But once a year, in the second week of May, the silence was broken. And Flugelplatz could once again bask in the joyous sibilations of lesser mobility.


    Count Bruch stood in his private quarters, preening in the mirror again. He knew that as soon as he joined the party, that joyful atmosphere would harshen.


    His arrival would mark the start of the game of whispers. That awful time when the negotiations hadn''t officially started, but every lobbyist and commander would try to get a word in, strategically positioning themselves and others for the optimal head start once they had.


    Perhaps this bowtie wasn''t yet completely straight.


    The hands in the mirror moved up to the collar, and then stretched their fingers wide.


    He looked down at his hands which were doing no such thing, and before he knew it the hands had come out of the mirror and wrapped around his neck.


    Bruch gasped. He wasn''t a fighter, never had been, neither of his parents were adventurers married into nobility, and his familie''s territory wasn''t anywhere near the border. The Bruchs had always served their king through diplomacy, not combat.


    But even he knew that once an assassin gets access to your neck, the fight is usually over.


    He tried to breathe, but couldn''t.


    Forcing him to the ground was his mirror image, a doppelg?nger.


    He balled his fist and struck the enemy in the face.


    Despite his lack of training, his superior bloodline provided him superior strength, and his punch could crush a peasant skull rather easily.


    A powerful bang reverbarated through the room.


    But what he was striking was not a true skull, and contained none of the vital organs a human head did.


    The neck of the demon had been twisted to face fully backwards, and it slowly turned back with a wicked grin.


    The count screamed soundlessly, his throat still clamed shut by the demon''s powerful grip.


    "You must be honorable Count Wolfgang Bruch," it snickered, "the baronet''s number one preferred target. Most excellent! Don''t worry about the summit... I''ll attend it for you. Hahaha!"


    The count was turning blue in the face, but he still wouldn''t give up the struggle.


    "Why won''t you... die!" The demon thrashed him against the carpeting.


    They continued to roll over each other for a good few minutes.


    Eventually, a maid came to knock on the door. "Lord Bruch? Are you there?"


    A somewhat ruffled looking count opened the door, but not fully. "Yes. I will be- vill be right out. Can''t let zhe guests vaiting!" He strained his hair and bowtie. "Don''t go into zhis room."


    -


    The doppelg?nger made his way downstairs, towards the main hall where the guests were gathered.


    Slowly the memories of Wolfgang were seeping into his head. He would need them to pose as the man.


    The muscle memory had already appeared when a woman in ball gown appeared in front of him. He bowed slightly and fiddled with his hands just as the count had always done.


    "Oh Wolfgang, you''re here!" She said sweetly, "you just have to come save me. These younger baronesses are just an absolute bore."


    "Sorry to keep you vaiting... miss Fern." Wolfgang had despised Fern for being much too familiar towards him. Rather presumptuous for the fifth daughter of a baronet, of a foreign nation no less, to think she could cosy up to a count. But for the doppelg?nger she would be a valuable asset tonight. "Lead zhe vay. I vill fend off zhe bores, if you vill save me from lady Munster''s match-making efforts."


    He took her arm.


    His mission from Scratch was to sabotage the diplomatic mission for peace, but he couldn''t simply behave as an oaf. If he were to start a fight, he likely would not be able to escape the castle at the end of the night to join his true preferred demon king candidate. If he were to act too out of character, his nature as a doppelg?nger would be exposed and the mission would fail.


    So subtlety was the name of the game. Keeping to social norms as the real count would have.


    And keeping miss Fern with him to instigate all conversations, so that he had time to rake up the relevant memories.


    As they joined the main body of people, he eyed the guards at the halls many surrounding doors.


    They were mid-level adventurers, hired for the occasion by the herzog but dressed in the strict military outfits of the staatspolizei, complete with red armbands.


    These people had had a lifetime of training spotting imposters and subversive elements.


    Still, there would be no problem if he kept to his script.


    "Count Bruch." A decorated man came up to him.


    "How are you, Schmetter?" Fern said, eager to be acknowledged. "Wolfgang and I were just discussing the provisions of the agreement. I am sure I can convince my own duke to-"


    "Count Bruch." Johan Schmetter said, "your buttons are on backvards."


    The doppelg?nger tensed up.


    His appearance was the mirror image of count Bruch.


    The mirror image.


    Guards were already being gestured to approach.


    "Vell spotted Johan. It seems zhat nobody else has passed zhe test so far. I-"


    A sudden gust of wind knocked him onto the ground. Count Schmetterling''s magic.


    "Brand of Light!" One of the guards exclaimed.


    The magical attack was low-level, but it made a sizzling impact when it hit the doppelg?nger''s cheek. Confirming the suspicion that was a demon.


    The doppelg?nger hissed.


    Count Schmetterling drew his rapier and stabbed it clean through his head.


    Holy magic began to emanate from the weapon and dissolve the demon''s body from the inside out.


    A scream could be heard from upstairs, and a maid came running into the hall. "Count Bruch! Count Bruch''s body! He is dead!"


    The demon tried to scrable to his feet, but now lacked the strength to even make a sound.


    Schmetterling pointed his weapon at Fern.


    "I swear, I didn''t know!" she exclaimed in a panic.


    "Count Bruch vas one of zhe loudest opponents to zhe armstice vith your country." Schmetterling spat, "who vould benefit from taking out zhe biggest proponent for the war?"


    "Zhe Reddington elite is rotten!" One of the attendees yelled, "zhey''re summoning demons meant to deceive us!"


    Fern''s own Baroness stood in front of her. "This is not our doing."


    Already, nobles from the different countries were splitting into two crowds, on either side of the conflict.


    Schmetterling sheathed his weapon. "I do not have zhe authority to pass judgement on you in zhis moment. But I know... zhat I vill have my justice."


    "Justice... how is that?"


    "Because I vill have VAR!!" He screamed the last part, and his countrymen jeered.


    The baroness scrunged up her face. This was the worst peace summit she had ever taken part in.


    -


    Meanwhile, the demon dying on the floor had a very similar feeling regarding the whole situation.


    The last of Wolfgang''s memories confirmed that he had indeed come there to argue for the war, not against it.


    If that were the case, replacing him would have offered no benefit for Scratch, who needed the war to start up again.


    Unless... the demon grinned in his final moments... unless the baronet had known he would fail, and in fact counted on it. Unless he had specifically told him to target Wolfgang Bruch so that it would seem peace was a demonic plot.


    "Diabolical." He said silently.


    Then he shattered.


    <hr>


    Special Request: Guarding the Flugelplatz Summit


    To: the Band of the Sparrow, aka the party of the Edelweiss hero.


    Regarding: the security detail at the yearly peace summit in Flugelplatz


    Most esteemed adventurer(s),


    You are hereby formally requested by the Herzog of Waldermann to take on a defensive mission at Flugelplatz castle during the week from May 6th to May 13th.


    For your time and effort you will be rewarded 5 gold pieces for each day attending, as well as the full rewards for each monster slain.


    The occasion is the annual the peace summit, the peaceful progression of which is of vital importance for the continued diplomatic relations with other kingdoms.


    Possible quarries may include: poltergeists, fairy beasts, bandit assassins, and beastmen.


    The parties are asked to search for hidden weapons and poisons, and break up altercations between humans non-lethally, should they occur.


    Please be aware that you do not have the right to refuse this mission. Those unable to participate must send word one month in advance.


    Signed,


    Herzog Adel Waldermann

 Long Division

    "Manny, how would you like to make some prognoses about the crop yield?"


    Maenith stopped in his tracks and released a silent grown through clenched teeth. When papa Scratch asked you if you would like something, it really meant that you had to do it. Pronto.


    Pronto and prognosis were new words he had learned.


    "Can I finish my book first?"


    "You finish what chapter you''re at. I''ll put the numbers right here."


    There was really no putting it off. The office of the baronet had become dependent on the young hobgoblin.


    -


    Scratch''s pencil creaked as he was writing his letter.


    The baronet had ruined enough quills and now carved his blocky script onto paper with graphite.


    Maenith was able to block out the sound as he began his calculations.


    "Percent is the smaller number divided by the bigger number times a hundred...


    A half times 81 is half of eighty and half of 1. More than 7.


    A third of 81 is 27, more than 7...


    A fourth of 81 is a fourth of 80 and a fourth of 1.


    Which is 20-and-a-fourth, more than 7...


    A fifth of 81 is a fifth of eighty and a fifth of one...


    At break-neck speed his prattled off his sums, so fast that it was unintelligible to anyone but himself.


    "A twelfth of 80 is a twelfth of 72 and twelfth of eight.


    Half times twelve is 6, less than 8...


    All quarters-but-one of twelve is 8.


    A twelfth of 80 is 6-and-three-quarters.


    A twelfth of 1 is... a twelfth.


    6-and-three-quarters and a twelfth is... 6-and-nine-twelfths and a twelfth.


    A twelfth of 81 is 6-and-ten-twelfths, less than 7...


    An eleven-and-a-halfth of 81 is an eleven-and-a-halfth of... 77... and 3-and-a-half... and eleven-and-a-halfth of a half."


    This process continued until he came to the hundred fractions, which you were allowed to round off.


    He wrote down his first number. 8.64 procent.


    Then he began applying the estimated increase to last years measurements.


    "752 divided by one-hundred is 7-and-fifty-two-hundreds.


    Times 8-and-64-hundreds is 7 times 8 and 7 times 64-hundreds and fifty-two-hundreds times 8 and 52-hundreds times 64 hundreds."


    -


    Scratch looked up from his lordly decree.


    He had given the boy homework before and had become familiar with the noises of his deliberations, but with time he was starting to make out some words in Maenith''s mutterings.


    "What are you doing? Are you applying sums you already know?"


    Meanith looked up in confusion. Applying sums and rules he already knew was what numbers were all supposed to be about.


    Scratch had given them the times table, and the rules for subtraction and addition, and by applying them they got the answer to more times tables. Once they had gotten the answer to a new sum they could know it from thereon out.


    Maenith had done the most sums, so he could do the most complicated new sums. That was why he was good at it.


    "Manny. I''m asking you, are you seeing the numbers in your head or are you just following the steps?"


    "I''m... I''m just doing the prognosis."


    Scratch looked at him with a complicated expression. "Boy what an experiment. I''m clogging up your long term memory with decimals aren''t I? Gotta wonder how much a goblin skull can hold, for how long can we keep on memorizing every single word we come across? Goblins don''t live that long, usually, do they?"


    Maybe Maenith would have found some way to express himself at that moment, but the silence in the office was suddenly ripped apart by three punctuated explosions.


    *Bang.*


    *Bang.*


    *Bang.*


    There was screaming outside the manor.


    "That''ll be the war again."


    -


    A an iron-clad giant, twenty feet tall at least, had kicked through the wall and stepped into the domain.


    Not a single speck of skin was visible in the huge metal form, and he carried a spiked ball-and-chain, which he spun dangerously.


    "Vhere is zhe goblin king!?" A voice thundered from his chest. "I challenge you!"


    There were many plans and protocols for a siege breaking into a town, but none accounted for a giant.


    Warg wolves, goblins, and the general population fled from the vicinity of his spinning weapon.


    "What''s happening?" Scratch asked his advisers.


    Lydia growled, "a Blurichan noble has snuck past enemy lines specifically to target us."


    "Why?"


    "Master," Youthere grinned, "I do believe you''ve become somewhat of a symbol of the cause for Blurich. This young man has put aside military strategy in favor of enhancing his honor, by challenging the lord of evil. Your legend grows!"


    "Will you meet his challenge?" Lydia asked.


    "You two got a nasty sense of humor", Scratch bit, as he walked out in front of the manor to get a better view. "He''s going to come this way, isn''t he?"


    But the giant was pre-occupied. A raging direwolf was biting at his leg, trying to tear it out from under him.


    It was Alpheba, the young woman that carried the werewolf curse for her master.


    The spiked ball impacted her on the side and send her flying into the air.


    "Young fool! Unrestrained bravery is no virtue." Lydia cursed, and began to change in order to spring to her aid.


    But Scratch raised his hand. "She had a little pottery place where he stepped, must have lost her temper. Give me my microphone."


    -


    It was clear by now that when Scratch said microphone he meant the spellrod with voice enhancer.


    The manabelt eagerly sucked at his artery and his arm stung painfully has he hoisted himself up the side of a building.


    As always, he had to consciously order it not to poison him in the process.


    But it produced the mana he need to throw his voice.


    "Hey, Hans! Kraut! This isn''t duel country. You put away the torture device, I''m officially declining your challenge."


    The suit of armor pointed a giant finger at him. "You!" And began sprinting.


    Two houses were ruined in his path, but not the adventurer''s guildhouse that Scratch was standing on. Because a magic circle appeared around it and a flash of light knocked the attacker over.


    -


    Once a man has lost his balance, the fight is usually over.


    This was a giant however, and it took three trolls hacking their large axes into his knee to keep him down.


    The giant weapon was wrested away from him and his arms tied up by an actual army''s worth of goblins.


    A puff of steam came out of the chest-plate, and it folded open.


    "What?"


    "It''s a siege harness."


    A man climbed out, dressed in tight military garb.


    The chest cavity of the giant had been a seat, surrounded by many levers and wheels for operating it. It was a machine.


    "Surrender, invader, that you may see your family again after this war." Lydia announced.


    "A schmetterling never surrenders. I will die with honor!" The young man drew his sword and pointed it at the guild house where Scratch stood with his hands on his hips.


    "Fight me, you coward! You haven''t got what it takes to-"


    His voice was cut short by wolf Alpheba jumping over the downed mech and dragging him along in her maw.


    She barely chewed and swallowed him almost whole.


    Then she wretched and sauntered off.


    "That''s the calmest I''ve ever seen the direwolf." Scratch commented through his microphone.


    "A big meal will calm them down," Lydia said, but she was too far away for him to hear.


    <hr>


    The adventurers'' guildmaster was less then pleased with how things turned out.


    "Your lordship." She said in a furious staccato. "Is there any justification for the barony involving the guild in this conflict?"


    "I didn''t, you heard it yourself. I declined his challenge, so his charge at your building was completely against my wishes. I can''t be blamed for it." Scratch hid the smugness on his face by intently studying the bloodspattered interior of the machine.


    "Why is that bad?" Maenith whispered to his sister. "They live here too."


    "Don''t you read the daily papers?" She said at normal volume.


    "No. They make a new one every day!"


    Ada pursed her lips, because she was the ''they'' that made one every day and she had quite the chore of it, assembling the letter blocks in the ink press for each custom message. "We''re not allowed to have adventurers fight in the war. That''s es-ca-la-tion."


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Why?"


    "Because. It just is!"


    The guildmaster turned to them, wagging a finger. "The adventurers'' guild is a multi-national organization, it relies on the peaceful cooperation with the royal houses. We can neither allow the branches to turn against each other, nor can we allow the guild as a whole to take a side in war. Unless it is a holy war."


    Scratch ears pricked up. "Holy wars? I didn''t hear about those. Can we declare this a holy war?"


    "The pope of Benesant''s faith declares holy wars," Lydia explained, "when he declares a monarch to have become a source of corruption. It is the adventurers'' guild''s mission to defeat demon kings after all."


    "Mhm. So we only need the pope to declare our opponent the demon king." Scratch said, "and we get to hire adventurers for military defense. Where does he live?"


    "The Holy Basilica. In Blurich."


    "Never mind then, better he stay out of it." Ada sighed.


    While they were discussing geopolitics, the guildmaster had levitated herself onto the mech.


    She held out her hand.


    "Walgis'' Hand!"


    "Whoah! Hey! HEY!" Scratch wildly waved his arms about.


    To Guth''s subhumans, the magic she cast filled every inch of air with scribbles, circles, and diagrams.


    The magic was so powerful, and the mana she had brough forth to cast it so intense, that he thought he was about to be desintegrated.


    But when the lines of magic subsided, nothing had changed.


    Just that she now held two cards in her hand.


    "Here." She held one up to him. "[Deniable Goad]. That''s you, isn''t it?"


    The translucent playing card showed a picture of Scratch on the guildhouse, with the siege harness in the background.


    "What is that? A whisk card?"


    She pocketed it. "My magic allows me to accelerate the appearance of world memories. I will be including this into my report to the count."


    "It says it''s deniable though."


    "Not with a world memory, it isn''t."


    <hr>


    "Will this come back to haunt us?" Scratch asked, when they came back to the manor.


    "If the Blurichan Nobility find out, they might consider it a valid excuse to enlist Blurichan members of the guild." Lydia said. "The Schmetterling line most of all, whatever it was their station is, would push for it. Since they lost a son today."


    "Good."


    "Good?"


    "That means the count won''t want this info to spread any further either."


    "So it only matters if they are looking for an excuse." Ada noted.


    Her mother tilted her head. "What do you mean?"


    "Well... because... if they don''t use the excuse, the war doesn''t escalate. If they do you use the excuse, the war does escalate. So it only depends on if they want to escalate."


    "That''s good. That''s very observant Ada," Scratch said as he threw himself on the couch, "if the enemy wasn''t willing to break up a major paramilitary institution before, they won''t be now, as long as they think of it as a one-off."


    "That it is." Lydia said, "Youthere said it before, sneaking deep into enemy territory is not a viable military strategy. This Schmetterling has defied his commander in the hopes of becoming a war hero.


    It won''t happen again, I''m sure the Blurichan military will make sure of that."


    "Well I''m relieved," Scratch stretched himself out, "I suppose the only consequence is that miss ''walgis hand'' now has a stick up her butt about me."


    "She''s just cranky because the war killed her business." Barbara walked in, joining the discussion.


    "Sure, come right in, don''t knock or anything."


    "I just lost two hundred gold in earthenware due to a soldier in the war you started," she said.


    "The war I started? That is not the official narrative."


    "Oh I''m sure you''ve got a whisk card about it hidden away in the dungeon somewhere," she waved her hand. "If you''re not going to compensate me for lost goods, the least you can do is let me use the warping circle. The one in Eston has been blocked."


    "All warping circles are blocked in times of war," Lydia said, "otherwise enemy knights could make use of them."


    Barbara grinned, "but not the one in the dungeon. That one is extra rare now, and it can be used to smuggle high-grade items that can''t be transported through the border."


    "Barbara." Scratch sighed. "You can''t even use warp magic."


    "I have access to people that can."


    "And you''re going to give those people an inside look at my basement."


    "Just the circle part."


    "...I''ll have to charge you for it."


    "I can pay it! These are high-grade items."


    "Fine." Scratch threw up a hand, defeated, "do as you like. Make an appointment with Ada."


    -


    While she began negotiating with the administrative office that was his offspring, Scratch left for the basement.


    <hr>


    Between the pumps dumping waste treatment byproduct out into the ocean, chimneys funneling the foundry''s fumes towards the surface, and conduits for Noss Fleder''s magical substances, the back


    half of the basement layer was turning into quite the mess of pipes, and Scratch had to look where he stepped.


    "The witch isn''t here, is she?" He asked when he came to the vampire''s layer.


    Noss turned around and took off his safety goggles, "unfortunately not. She must retreat to zhe lesser zanctums from time to time, to take on her real form."


    "Real form? The hag is her real form."


    Noss seemed offended by this notion, he put the goggles back on and returned to his work.


    He was etching some magical processes into a large magical gem. Scratch could make out the lines of magical energy emanating from it and forming complex moving patterns.


    "I''m not intruding on your time, am I? I''d hate to disturb Lord Fleder with anything that doesn''t pertain to his interests, or the free room and board we provide for him."


    There was no response.


    "No but seriously, I need someone to come look at a robot, tell me if we can replicate-"


    "Eureka!" Fleder lifted up the gem and placed it into its metal and wire container.


    Scratch tried to get a miffed glance at his work, "whatcha doin''?"


    "Zhis spells zhe end of our mana scarcity, und zhe beginning of a new era!" The vampire boy stepped aside to show her rectangular box.


    "I didn''t even know whe had a mana scarcity, isn''t the entire dungeon a big mana fountain? What is this thing?" Scratch leaned in to poke his finger into the ephemereal magical flow.


    "Mana is replenished quickly vithin zhe dungeon, yes, und it can power sanctums. But ve can not carry zhis benefit out onto our lands, each person can only carry out as much mana as zheir body can store."


    "Aren''t these ones just undoing what you do here? Why not just keep the whole algorithm inverted start to finish?"


    Noss slapped away his hand. "Anyvay, zhis vill provide zhe Fairy Queen Vitch of Guth zhe added mana storage zhat she needs to maintain her transformation. I call it... zhe energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladder."


    Scratch raised en eyebrow, "how about ''mana battery''?"


    "Vhat? Is does no batter anyzhing. Give me a spellrod, do you have one on you?"


    Scratch wanted to deny him, but he had just used the voice amplifier and it still stuck prominently out his breast pocket.


    He handed it over.


    Noss tied some organic looking connectors directly to the rod''s gem.


    He then began quickly turning a swivel, which made the energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladder began to whirr.


    He looked exitedly at Scratch, who looked back at him with the sort of expression one might expect from a schoolteacher having ironic internet memes explained to them by a twelve year old student.


    Eventually the vampire could let go of the swivel and the machine continued to hum under its own power.


    He picked up the rod. "No mana required. Try it."


    Scratch leaned forward and spoke into it, "Te-"


    *BANG!*


    For half a second the sound was so strong that it split their ears and shook the room''s machinery. Then the energy-intesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladder cracked and burst, stopping the effect.


    Scratch grabbed his ears, which were bleeding. "YOU BLOODY IDJIT, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?"


    "IT MUST BE A MISTAKE IN THE EXCRETION ETCHINGS, I CAN FIX IT!"


    They were both yelling to get above the ringing in their ears.


    Hobgoblins came running due to the commotion, and Scratch ended up getting healed.


    Noss had to fight off healing, which would have only hurt him more.


    -


    "I vill have to make it bigger." He eventually said. "Zhe interplay between magical conduits is more complicated zhan I had anticipated, I vill need to include more gems."


    "Even at this size, it''s already quite large." Scratch sighed, "how long would one of those extend the transformation spell?"


    "...Two hours."


    "Two hours, okay. So let''s say Lacrima really limits here movements and is able to drop by the recharging station once a day. She''d still need to carry around twelve of these things."


    "energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladders."


    "energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladders, yes. That''s- Well it''s not quite a wagon full, but it''s close. Where do you expect her to keep those? Huh? On her belt? A travelling cart maybe? Switch them out every two hours?"


    Noss stared at the floor.


    "Come," Scratch stood up and patted his shoulder, "it''ll be sundown soon. I want you to come check something out for me."


    <hr>


    The metal man was quickly stripped, like a carcass picked apart by scavengers.


    The goblins crawled over and through its body, and by night, it had become a skeleton.


    "Zhere. Zhese are zhe Forma Lines." Noss pointed at the blue cables wired through the siege harness'' exposed innermost framework.


    "I''m not seeing any gems or curses in here." Scratch said, referring to the magical sight.


    "Of course not."


    "So how does it move?"


    "Blurichan engineering, nozhing magical about it, I''m afraid. Zhere are mechanism... pistons, zhat make zhe joints move. It''s not of much interest to a mage."


    Scratch frowned, "what''re you saying? That nothing about this is magical?"


    "Just a machine."


    "It''s a goddamn giant robot, Fleder. There''s no engineering that."


    Noss shrugged.


    "Why don''t you tell Papa Scratch some more about forma lines, dearie?"


    "Wh- Oh Christ." Scratch flinched, not having seen Lacrima sneak up on them.


    "The forma lines can hardly be called engineering, can they?" She said sweetly.


    "Uh-huh, any business here?" Scratch said with dismay.


    "True..." Noss said, while thinking, "forma lines are zhe control system. Zhey are grown rather zhan crafted, but zhey are non-magical non-zheless."


    Lacrima chuckled. "How very much like a sorcerer to think of magic as nothing more than spells and incantations. The forma lines are actually a crowning achievement of witchcraft; a lifeform brewed up to serve in perpetuity."


    "Maybe I can leave you two to it, discussing the merits of black magic and moon goddesses and all that on your own."


    But she stopped him. "Scratch''s inuition is correct, A machine like this could never move as it does without magic. All tendons and muscles in a human body are in a constant state of change, adjusting and correcting to keep the balance. And every simple movement is a collection of thousands of these adjustments. A pilot could never control such a thing."


    Noss turned to Scratch, "is zhat vhat you vanted to know? How zhis zhing is controlled."


    "No, well- Yes, I guess." Scratch pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just... can you replicate it?"


    "Ah. Vell no. Zhey are grown, you know? Not conjured."


    Lacrima walked up to what remained of the pilot''s seat and pointed at it with her walking stick. "These vines are why today, witches in Blurich are no longer persecuted. The great cauldron in the heartland mountains is the only thing that produces them. You might repurpose some of them here, but you cannot recreate them."


    "Can you do that?" Scratch asked Noss.


    "Zhat is not my area of expertise."


    "If all vines are undamaged, there must be craftsmen among your little community that can do something with them." Lacrima smiled, "It is good that you''re developing an interest in Guth''s gifts, since you are now one of her warriors."


    Scratch smiled awkwardly back. "I don''t need all of them. I''m sure we can invent a more economical design. Something that doesn''t need to keep its balance."


    "No. There is only one design. Forma lines take the shape of a human nervous system, and humans use their minds to control them. Only man-shaped machines can be controlled by them." She tapped Noss on the shoulder, "you had a new mana solution to show me."


    Before they left, Noss addressed Scratch. "Building a siege harness vill do us no good. Zhey can not match zhe power of high ranking heroes, no matter who''s piloting zhem. I suggest you forget about it, zhey can not be improved upon anyvay."


    <hr>


    [The young master has improved upon the siege harness design yet again!]


    There sure is a lot of praise coming from the tribunes.


    Well, I guess I am really amazing.


    [Silence! It might be impressive, but I see no proof that this is an improvement,] the herzog says, [let us put it to the test.]


    I look up at Lothar, [are you ready!]


    [Bring it on! I''ll show everybody the genius of Diedrich''s design!]


    He retreats into the seat and the front plate closes.


    As his mind enters the forma lines the harness'' limbs twitch.


    Four legs shift to find their balance.


    Two shoulders roll and lift up the giant lance.


    ....


    It''s so cooool!


    My centaur robot is so cool!


    The way the extra pair of legs give it speed and stability.


    The way it uses a lance just like a jouster.


    And every part just fits to together just right... Aaaah!


    I love giant robots so much!


    But I love giant robots fighting even more.


    Lothar is skewering the herzog''s men.


    I guess it''s not really fair, because I told him exactly where to aim to sever the forma lines of the opponents. But we have to play unfair for a bit, because an arena like this doesn''t even show off the centauroid''s strongest features.


    The fact that he can run for a long time, and the fact that you can stop and exit without sitting the robot down and it won''t fall over.


    If we impress the herzog enough, I''m sure we will demonstrate its strength in the field soon enough!


    -


    I look at the herzog.


    His mustache is curling up. I think that''s a good thing!


    Across the arena I can see Wahnzin, in the witch section. She''s wearing her uniform with the witch hat and armband.


    She''s following the battle more intensely than I had expected.


    I guess the stakes are high for her as well.


    It seems like Lothar has won the battle. The other pilots are already climbing out of their siege harnesses.


    The spectators are cheering so much. It makes me happy.


    Lothar is throwing up his hands to elicit further applause.


    No Lothar! Bow! Bowing for the herzog is what you''re supposed to be doing right now!


    I lock eyes with Whanzin and she''s not happy either.


    I try to gesture a bow to him as best as I can without being too obvious, but I''m already attracting attention and I have to stop.


    Eventually he gets it and bends the sieg harness forward at the waist, bowing for the Herzog.


    The Herzog stands up. [I have seen enough! This new generation of siege harness is clearly ready for war. Diedrich Stahl.]


    I go before him and hail him with a stretched arm, as father has repeatedly drilled me to do.


    [I appoint you siege smith of the Monshauser crucible. You shall oversee the armament of our next fighting force.]


    Yes!


    This is all I wanted.


    I get to work with giant robots all day!


    This is everything I wished for ever since I was born in this new world!


    [With your advancements, the house of Monshauser will sure play a vital role in winning the war and brining the kingdom of Reddington to its knees!]


    [Huzzah!]


    [Huzzah!]


    Everybody''s cheering.


    ....


    Eh?


    I thought these robots would be used to fight monsters.


    We''ll be fighting against actual people?


    I hope they have cool robots too!


    <hr>


    Bl?dschicht


    Adventurers within the kingdom of Blurich must observe the bl?dschicht ranking.


    According to ancient law, abhumans are considered inferior. This can cause problems for adventurers that enjoy a lesser rank, as they will be inhibited in their freedoms in ways that they are not in other countries.


    Humans possess the highest ranked blood within Blurichan society. Foreign adventurers are allowed to travel unimpeded and carry weapons, but may not make a Blurichan town their home for any extended period of time without obtaining citizenship and purity test.


    Abhumans are divided into two groups; civilized and barbaric.


    Any adventurer of the following ancestries can expect the treatment of a civilized abhuman: Dwarf, Elf, Halfling, Starborn, or Witch.


    Other races are considered barbaric.


    Civilized abhumans may travel freely over the main roads of Blurich, but will be barred from entering noble manors and some private establishments. They may not touch nobility, and contracts signed by them carry no legal value.


    Barbaric abhumans within Blurich are considered slaves according to the bl?dschicht, regardless of pedigree. They may not travel without a human escort, and are at risk of being kidnapped and sold in a slave market. It is therefore highly discouraged for adventurers of these ancestries to travel into Blurich.


    Addendum


    Please also be aware that public displays of affection between humans and abhumans are seriously frowned upon within Blurichan society and can escalate into violence.


    Second addendum


    a number of ancestries recognized as abhuman by the guild are not recognized as such by Blurichan law and are treated as monsters. These ancestries are: awakened undead, noble goblins, and djinn.

 For Sale

    Higher nobility didn''t tend to cultivate their strength much.


    Their pedigree was already proven by their heroic bloodline and their potential was so high that it could not be reached within a single lifetime.


    So too lord Bynald, duke of Ashenfree, sat slightly pudgy in his lawn chair enjoying high tea while the actual combatants were out on the front line.


    "Dearest Patricia," he dictated to the scribe, "my heart sinks more with any passing night that we must spend apart. Do know that I''m following your diet recommendations..." he paused to put more cream on his scone, "to the letter. Do tell Pip, Poe, and Poppy that daddy is thinking about them and-"


    "Your lordship!" A scout came panting and huffing up the hill. "Your lordship, grave news!"


    "Ah, boy. Your battalion was pushed back was it? It''s all within expectations, we''ll keep the enemy busy until the count''s strike team arrives and-"


    "Not pushed back Milord, struck down! The entire front line has been broken and subdued."


    A scone dropped to the ground. "What!?"


    "And the count''s strike team as well."


    "WHHAAAT!?"


    "And the enemy is a advancing on this position right as we speak!"


    "WHH-AAAH!"


    The duke had barely even time to react as a dozen quadrupedal siege harnesses trampled the war camp, ploughing the earth with their feet and greatly upending tea time.


    -


    So it came to be known that the duke of Ashenfree had been captured by the enemy. The first great humiliation for Reddington, and the war had only just begun.


    "The storm of the wind kingdom is advancing ever further into our land," the general put it, arranging the peons representing war parties onto the spread out map of the region. "If we do not want to lose these regions to sauerkraut eaters by the end of the war we need a new strategy."


    "The situation calls for a greater commitment to the war effort," the war oracle said, "mobilization of peacekeeping knights, re-purposing of civilian infrastructure, certain... sacrifices."


    "You''re saying the people of Reddington will have to go hungry this winter."


    "I am saying that."


    A little man at the back the room cleared his throat. "Ahem."


    "Who is this?" The oracle asked, but the general gestured for him to be silent.


    "The king will not be receptive to such plans." The little man said, "I suggest you come up with something else."


    "Alright then..." The general bent over the table again. "If we can somehow sabotage the creation of these advanced siege harnesses, we could take away their advantage. A mission for high nobility, infiltrating into Monshauser and-"


    "Ahem."


    The general let go of the peon, "what is it now?"


    "The king will not approve of a strategy that puts the most loyal of his vassals in unacceptable danger."


    "You know the king''s mind, do yeh?" The oracle flared up.


    The little man did not answer.


    "You tell the king this," he said, walking up to him, "you tell him that any kingdom sacrificing security for politics will soon surely have neither. Look at this map! Blurich wasn''t always this bloated and large."


    "I am merely relaying-"


    "Relay this! Either he chooses the people or he chooses the aristocracy, but someone has to bear the cost for this war. As with all wars!"


    "If only we had Beatrice Dichtershire on our side," the general said pensively, "she is the most powerful of our number by far."


    "The crown prince is a damned fool for breaking off their engagement," the oracle groaned, "and whole the kingdom knows it. It''s come to the point that it might actually cause a succession crisis. Especially if we lose this war."


    "So there''s a lot at stake for the crown."


    They both looked at the servant.


    "I can not speak for the king," he said, throwing up his hands, "please let the honorable gentlemen devise the strategy they believe is wisest."


    "Good." Said the general.


    <hr>


    The cavern underneath the promise was a forest for stalagmites, and wooden platform suspended between its peaks provided a snaking and branching pathway between its features.


    Between the lion''s head, that lead hobgoblins into the underworld, and the cavern port, that led smuggling sloops towards Eston, there was the foundry.


    And between the foundry and lion''s head stood the warping circle.


    An egg-shaped dome planted firmly on the cavern''s stony ground, so that the pathway had to slope down to provide access and those exiting it saw themselves surrounded by the ominous shadows of the frozen woods.


    But now, those shadows were being cleared out.


    A true deforestation of the mineral was taking place as metal wires and burly trolls filed and smashed away at the ancient rock.


    Barbara''s goblins were making space for a marketplace.


    -


    Scratch tested the ground with his foot.


    The depot Barbara had stamped out of the ground was a series of unwalled, unroofed, floors. Staggered platforms at different elevations, the highest of which was level with the pathway so that traded goods could be ferried in and out of the cavern more easily.


    The thing held up. Though crooked, the goblins had made enough mistakes to make a sturdy construct by now.


    And besides, his weight was too little to shake the heavy planks anyway.


    "Come down then!" Barbara screamed at him from below.


    He sighed, and began clambering down the rope net that served as a ladder, which was rather undignified.


    -


    "This is the second trade hub!" She said, yelling over the sound of industry. "My contacts will be able to exit from the egg and trade wares here, on the lower platform."


    "I thought you would only let them see the circle." Scratch said.


    "Huh!?"


    "The circle! You want to let them out of the egg!?" He yelled.


    She nodded wildly, translating high volume speech into highly animated gestures for some reason. "We need the space to spread out wares and such! But we''re not letting them out of this clearing!


    We can take away the ramp, make it a citizen only entrance through the platform!"


    Scratch tapped his foot on the heavy planks.


    Reasoning it was better to ask for forgiveness than for permission, Barbara had expanded his permission to use the circle into a mandate to lay claim to its entire surrounding area.


    "You haven''t rifled through the inventory, did you?" She asked, "just kidding. The chests are empty, we''ve only a few whisk cards in there."


    "World memories? You''re planning to blackmail people?"


    Barbara grinned, "I knew you''d catch on to their real use. Most people would ask if I''m trying to draft a deck for the game, but world memories are unfalsifiable, undeniable records. Information brokers will pay a heavy price for the right whisk card."


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Scratch raised his eyebrows. "I didn''t know there was a game."


    "Yeah. Anyway, I''d like some small pulleys for traders to move things around more easily, you know. Maybe Second can design an elevator..."


    -


    Barbara proceeded to show him how the product would move, and what spaces would be reserved for what purpose.


    "No treasure chest." He suddenly said.


    She straightened. "What?"


    "Treasure chest! I don''t want you trading gold here, make them exchange it for our currency before they come in."


    "Scratch! That''s for the broodmothers in the forest. I do get to keep gold. If anything I should be able to break the count''s laws even more down here."


    "Well you can''t. Not in the cavern."


    "Why not!?"


    He looked at her with none of the bemused condescension he normally had. Only a dark, piercing gaze. "Because I don''t want you to. I''m officially throttling you Barbara, this is as ambitious as you get."


    "What!? You said that you''d give me the guild business, you-"


    She stopped herself from whining about promises and fairness like a child, but she did pout.


    "This is the final word on it."


    For the first time in a while, Scratch had denied her a freedom.


    The ability to freely exchange for precious metals had given her power on the surface that he didn''t dare give her in the underground.


    If she had to go through his exchange, he would have the power to cut her off at a moment''s notice.


    The smuggler''s efforts to keep up in growth with the moneylender were dashed rather curtly. She wasn''t a partner, but a subordinate after all.


    <hr>


    While gold was banned from the cavern, it accumulated to no end in the basement.


    Cash flows from five different cities flowed through the Promise bank. Interest and equity payments, deposits, and down payments for various smuggled goods.


    "That is called buyer''s credit, by the way," Scratch told Lydia, as she was absentmindedly flicking at his documents.


    She had summoned magical lights in his office and was sat on her knees, resting her arms and face on his desk as a way of spending time.


    "It''s good not just because we can put the profits to work earlier, but also ''cause we don''t have ta guess what they want to buy and can pay for. Less risk."


    "Say..." she said.


    "Normally in such a case, as a trade-off, it''s the buyers that run the risk of paying a supplier that can''t deliver. But I think we have the negotiating power to-"


    "Say." She said a bit louder. "Did you order for those bandits to be crucified near Hiffield?"


    He put his hand on her cheek. "Don''t worry baby. They were trying to run away with borrowed money, so I had to make an example out of them. By going high-intensity the first time, I''m preventing future abuses, okay? So it should be a one-time thing."


    He returned to his work, satisfied that he had sussed away the nascent pangs of conscience of a criminal''s girlfriend.


    "Then you are okay with it."


    "Hmm? With what?"


    "Criminal sentencing."


    "Oh no." He grasped at his forehead realizing his mistake.


    They had had this conversation before.


    She moved to stand behind him and massaged his shoulders. "Scratch."


    "Lydia...


    "There are more injustices going on within our bandit cities than just theft of the bank."


    "I don''t want to write laws. It''s against everything I stand for. The cities are there to make us a profit, they don''t need to conform to our arbitrary sense of good taste."


    "However, in the long term, your plan is to make the criminal circuit a viable alternative to peasantry under the lords for everybody, isn''t it?"


    "...in the long term."


    She brought her face to his and smelled his neck. "Then the least we can do is to make it that bit more attractive, is it not? We can make it safe to walk the streets, have a home, manage a business..."


    He perked up at those words, but then shook her off.


    He got up and stood facing the far wall. "Let''s say we do that. We extend some protections for members to all associates of the thieves'' guild. How would we enforce that? You think whoever we''re paying to wring necks isn''t going to liberally abuse that position? They don''t have an honor system like the knights do Lyds, they''re too smart."


    "We''ll send our own people."


    He turned around and looked at her like she was mad. "Our own people? The kids!?"


    "Hobgoblins and werewolves. You don''t doubt their ability."


    "It''s not about ability. Lyds... if they''re out there cracking skulls, before you know it-"


    "Don''t worry-"


    "Before you know it they get mixed with an adventurer or a knight or whatever and the war is back on."


    "Don''t worry baby." She put her hand on his cheek. "I''ll take care of it."


    He touched her hand. "You''re really keen on this, aren''t you?"


    "I am."


    "Fine." He sighed. "As long as you don''t get too anal about it and are willing to take a bribe now and then... you have my blessing. Go set up your secret policing task force I suppose."


    "Shadow bandits," she said, "the Liege had them in Eston when it was still under the four leaders, we''ll have them all over. It''s how thieves'' guilds operate in the shadows. As a Harkness, I was trained to know their methods, I should be able to replicate them."


    She became animated explaining her plans, and the wolf-like energy that she had inherited from Wendy broke loose into an excited rambling.


    When she came to outlining secret hideout strategies and hidden patrols, she was no longer looking at him, but at an ideal fantasy somewhere in the imagined distance.


    He could only look at her wistfully. She was too smart for him.


    <hr>


    While the basement had grown a veiny tumor of magical devices, and the devil altar had become a closely guarded ritual site, Lacrima''s hut at the underground harbor was still the dungeon''s center of witchcraft.


    The inside of the building was lined with books, talismans, and ritual tools.


    That, and a life-sized statue of Guth, goddess of Magic and the Moon. A generically beautiful depiction of a woman in a cowl with an orb and staff.


    When the witch''s devotion was great enough, the statue would speak to her.


    Lacrima, it said, the time approaches. You must complete your works within the woods.


    "My goddess!" The old woman bowed deeply. "Your will be done. I am making sure of it."


    Beware yourself Lacrima, remember that a goddess is not to be placated but followed. Why do you still make your home at this water, when your purpose is in the forest? Your deeds do not follow the urgency of your words.


    The witch stared wordlessly at the floor, her jaws clenched.


    Now remember that you have brought a tribe of goblins to me to be my children. Where is their devotion? They should have moved into the domain by now as well, to aid with the great work.


    "My goddess, it''s Scratch. I cannot control-"


    Silence! Look within yourself for solutions, not excuses. You must- The statue raised its head slightly, Ah, your little helper is here now.


    Lacrima looked behind her, but it wasn''t Scratch but Noss Fleder that had entered the hut.


    "Vann of zhe tvelve." He whispered, with at least as much awe as disdain.


    Come closer, child of the night. Guth said. All shapeshifters are my children.


    Lacrima panicked slightly, "My goddess, he his a dark sorcerer, but-"


    Then he is a student of magic, just as you are.


    "My goddess!"


    You have sworn off the worship of light for me Lacrima, it is only for the sake of Benesant''s order that the witches of the four realms suppress forbidden magic. I relieve you of that duty. Fleder, she gestured towards him, and his master are among the black mass that spread my gifts. In a way, they are my servants as well.


    "Is it true!?" Noss stepped forwards, "is it true zhat my master Ritter does not serve the kishin then?"


    The statue tilted her head at him, which could be interpreted as anything.


    Lacrima stood up. "I shall wield whatever I can then. Not just the magic of fairy, but the dark sorcery of the lich''s apprentice, and the dungeoncraft of the baronet."


    No Lacrima, time is running out, you must wield more than just magic. The god tree must be found before the season changes, see to it.


    "But... how can I convince Scratch to willingly-"


    See to it! If you are to receive my eternal reward.


    "Yes, my goddess." She bowed again.


    The statue retreated and returned to lifeless rock.


    "Noss," Lacrima said on a conspiratorial tone, "will you work with me over Scratch? Will you keep my secrets?"


    "Vhat is zhis about?"


    "If you and your master are within the goddess'' flock, then you can earn her favor as well. Scratch, however, only thinks of his own power. Shameful as I am to admit it to the goddess, I can no longer control him. So we must go behind his back."


    "Vhat do you vant me to do?"


    "You will keep it a secret?"


    "Of course."


    <hr>


    Scratch was dulling his cutlery against his plate that evening.


    Lydia was out managing shadow banditry and he was in a foul mood, so the eating utensils paid the price.


    "Women, hah." He scoffed.


    Quiet watch him silently over his plate. The table was almost empty, save for the three of them.


    "You have it figured out Quiet," Scratch said, "don''t bother with them. Can''t be controlled."


    "Who''re you trying to control?" Quiet asked.


    "Who? Well nobody. Barbara. You know your brother''s building her a whole contraption for her new marketplace, like he''s her minion or something. I never said he had to do that."


    "But we want the mothers to manage businesses, don''t we? You did say that."


    Yeah... I guess yeah. But Barbara has enough- You know Lydia just had to start up a whole police force? Chip of the old block- don''t tell her I said that- as if we don''t have enough enemies from the outside, we have to pick fights amongst ourselves?"


    "Oh I am quite pleased with the beauty''s ambition." Youthere didn''t eat food, so he stood leaned over the table sucking up their tension with his greedy eyes. "Inevitably, matters regarding punishment will come to you for judgment. It is an opportunity for you, master, to develop the proper bloodthirst of a demon king. I was quite disappointed to see you delegate the details of the mortgage scammers'' torture, and I''m happy to know there will be future opportunities."


    "Shut up." Scratch grunted annoyed.


    "Are you angry, Scratch?" Quiet asked.


    "No, I''m not angry, I just..." he put down his cutlery to think. "I''m just all the more frustrated about all these chicks running around with their own agendas. I don''t want to have to keep track of it anymore."


    "And you still refuse to enforce an aligning ideology into your subjects," Youthere said. "As a demon of temptation that is pleasing to me, as they will not become as vulnerable to redeeming forces, but as a servant of a tyrant I must question your dedication to absolute control."


    "Absolute control?" Scratch frowned.


    "Do you not wish to rule with an iron fist?"


    "I thought you knew me by now. Tight ships just have more places to leak from, tell him Quiet."


    "The Promise is an institution for the aligning of incentive," Quiet said eloquently, stunning Youthere with his suddenly elevated presence, "for the ideal state of society is that of stable equilibrium. One that, even after an upset, will return to its present state on its own accord. In other words, those in power must be most benefited by the status quo."


    "The exact words of the text." Scratch returned to his food. "I have given up on controlling thoughts, I no longer believe there is such a thing. We''re managing on incentives here."


    "But we are managing, aren''t we, Scratch?" Quiet asked. "What women can''t you control?"


    Scratch murmured. "It''s not really Lydia. It''s... the witch. She''s hiding something from me, and now she''s got Noss to go along with it too."


    "I would be remiss..." Youthere said, "if I didn''t at least attempt to sway you back towards the path of manipulation, which you have walked before."


    "...Can you teach me?" Quiet asked.


    "What for?"


    "I have a girl I like."


    Scratch threw down his cutlery.


    <hr>


    Blood Moon


    The blood moon is the most powerful whisk card discovered to date. It is currently held in the Blurich royal treasury and is valued at close to a million gold pieces.


    The world memory it depicts is an ancient event from before recorded history. Its image is that of an owl''s silhouette against a blood-red full moon.


    Due to its special properties in the game of whisk, it is part of the kaiser''s undefeatable whisk deck and has the potential to cause great calamity under the Greater Whisk spell.


    There have been five instances of rare card hunters attempting to steal the blood moon, and one instance of a would-be burglar touching it without knowing its status. All offenders to date have been executed.


    The blood moon is an item of great value and a weapon of great power, for it to fall in the wrong hands would be a major emergency for the entire continent.

 Picked Up, Let Down

    The windswept warriors could never settle down in one place.


    The steppes were too infertile, too unforgiving.


    To survive, they trekked around, preying upon the minor settlements in the bone dry desert that was the Yellow Wastes.


    But that was what made them strong.


    Whenever it was time to move on from a long camping spot, the leader, the vanguard flier himself, would sit the children down to explain all of this.


    "In this desert, there are those that cling to the once promised rebirth of the kingdom." He would say, "they believe that they can rebuild society with their and tamed monsters. But this is foolishness. In these wastes, only the strong survive, by taking from the weak."


    He gestured at the bones of the former inhabitants of the tiny adobe village.


    "These people were halfway to starving to death when we found them. And if we were to stay here, we would become like them. The winds have changed, and it''s time for us to move on again towards our next destination."


    "Will we see the sand worms again, father?" His middle child asked him.


    "Aye, and this time, we''ll have an extra rider." He looked at his eldest.


    "Ahem."


    The leaders of the windswept warriors closed his eyes as if he was in pain.


    It was the youngest that had spoke up.


    The tiny infant, less than a year old, had sat herself alongside the older kids with her legs crossed, listening with a critical ear to his speech.


    "You are clearly of royal blood yourself," she said, "to be able to command such creatures, and to be able to father one such as I. Yet you choose banditry above the destiny of ancestry?"


    "Shush," he elder sibling said, "you''re a baby."


    She ignored him.


    "What have you done to live up to Benesant''s blessing, father?"


    The leader looked stern. "You may have some sort of memory from a previous life, child, but you are still my daughter. You will follow the ways of our people, for your blood and for your survival. Now-"


    "No." The child said.


    "What?"


    She stood up, reaching not much higher upright than seated. "I do not have memories from a previous life. I have memories from many previous lives, all of them dedicated to the mission of Benesant. I have observed the ways of your people, and it has become clear to me that you are among the corruptions that are to be cleansed from this world. In my previous lives I have mastered many spells, which make me chief among her warriors. Of all Benesant''s champions, I am the one that gathers her strength the quickest in each body. Though my mana is still lacking I am confident..."


    The family stood around her, guarded. There was an indescribable menace coming off of the toddler. She had been silently casting a spell while speaking.


    "...that I can destroy you."


    The father charged, the children stood frozen, and she shouted. "Every sin a flame. Incinerate!"


    Immediately the man fell to his knees, as his skin was vaporized and flesh thoroughly cooked in an instant.


    An unrecognizable corpse flopped onto the dry sand.


    Not all the children reacted at the same time, but the eldest son let out an awkward pitched wail.


    She turned to him. "Incinerate."


    Fire shot from his eyes and lines of burned skin ran over his chest, killing him too.


    She swung around, hand outstretched. Everybody evaded her gaze, and began to run away.


    "What is going on?" One of the adult warriors rushed over to the meeting.


    "Incinerate."


    Dead.


    Warriors, parents, children.


    "Incinerate."


    Dead.


    Every single member of the windswept warriors was subject to her cleansing fire.


    Until at least a scared boy sat huddled in a corner, barely older than herself. He was crying and he''d pissed himself.


    "Incinerate." She said.


    The boy squeaked but nothing happened.


    "Hhm... it seems that you are still without sin. Very well, then I shall let you live. Tell me, boy..." she lifted her chin to look down on him, "which way is Reddington?"


    She left him alone there, heading east. The yellow wastes was a vast western landmass, and Eston was far east of the continent.


    The boy would eventually die there, of dehydration, cuddled up against the charred corpse of his mother.


    <hr>


    "That!? That''s your crush?" Scratch threw back his head and swirled around like muppet. "Are you insane- don''t answer that."


    In the line of Quiet''s increasingly unsure index finger stood the guildmaster.


    The three goblin brothers and their demon familiar were looking out the highest window of the cliff-side manor, and the streets through which the remaining adventurers organized themselves were spread out before them.


    Including the statuesque form of the mage administering them.


    "Her name is Puella. She''s smart and strong..." Quiet whispered.


    "Yeah, no kidding. She''s some sort of super-being, Quiet! You don''t have-"


    Suddenly the woman''s head turned to look straight at them. All took a step back.


    "You have nothing to worry about, young brother of the master," Youthere grinned, "seduction is my utmost expertise. As a point of order; I must say that all three of your ambitions fall within the purview of seduction of a woman."


    Scratch and Second gave each other a glance.


    "I''m out." Scratch threw up his hands and turned around.


    "Wait! Master, you must let me finish." Youthere clung to his arm, "of course I do not mean for you to take my words so literally. What I mean is this: you mean for her to share you into her conspiracy, you must convince her that she wants you there."


    He hesitated.


    "Master, you said you would let me convince you of the power of persuasion. You''ve said before that you trust my wisdom, if not my motives, trust it now." Youthere said.


    Scratch turned to Second. "I guess you''ve come along to keep a suspicious eye, haven''t you."


    "I also want... the wisdom." Second said.


    He had lost friends before staging a minor coup just trying to get rid of the demon''s influence.


    "I shall take you away from listening ears for a dark sermon." The demon proclaimed, "and since the youngest brother is not allowed on the surface, it shall be in the darkness. Come now."


    -


    The darkness meant the basement. It was about a ten minute walk until they found a relatively remote yet spacious storage room.


    Youthere spun around. "Now then, little brother goblin, how about you pretend that I am your lovely paramour? Come on, do your best, seduce me."


    "Oh! Uh..." Quiet stammered, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Hi. I''m Quiet."


    "Louder Quiet," Scratch said.


    "HI I''M QUIET!" He yelled. "PLEASE HAVE SEX WITH ME AND HAVE MY BABIES THANK YOU!" So that a perceptive ear, pressed against the outer door of the basement, would have been to pick it up.


    "''Have sex with me''? So you really want it, don''t you?" Youthere''s persona didn''t seem at all turned off by the incredible forwardness.


    "Yes."


    Youthere leaned in. "Are you willing to pay me thirty copper pieces in exchange for my body?"


    "Yes?"


    "Then take me to the devil altar, we can do it there!"


    Quiet''s eyes darted around, not sure what to make of the situation. "...yes..."


    Youthere dropped the act and pushed him away. "Now. What went wrong here?"


    "You just agreed to show an outsider the inside of our dungeon." Second said.


    Quiet blushed.


    "It''s the first rule of negotiation," Scratch said, "don''t be too eager."


    "Negotiation, very good very good," Youthere nodded eagerly, "that can be our starting point. The negotiating position is weakened by revealing the intensity of your desire, isn''t that correct?"


    "Of course."


    "Why?"


    Scratch opened his mouth and closed it again. "Well... how would you put it..."


    "It''s ''cause now she knows she can get more in return," Second said, "so she can start off asking for more and not climb down as much."


    "You got that from Barbara?" Scratch asked him peevishly.


    "I got it from you."


    "Indeed." Youthere said, "a person''s behavior comes down to their principles, mood, and knowledge. Of these, the most simple to influence is mood, and the most powerful upon them is their principles, but the knowledge... their knowledge is most effectively wielded."


    "You did that," Second said accusingly, "you lied about what you wanted so Scratch would keep you, and you lied about what would happen so he''d get rid of me."


    "And that same power can be yours!" Youthere spread his arms, with no visible acknowledgment of Second''s brimming hostility. "Whether it''s to gain access to a woman''s body," put his hand on Quiet''s shoulder, "to her secrets," he looked at Scratch, and then at Second, "or her money. The demonic house of temptation provides the art of guiding her actions."


    "So that''s your lesson?" Scratch said. "Lie? I think we kn-"


    "Master," he said politely but insistently, "I believe we''ve left Cyclophan''s art of simple misdirection on the battlefield. Where my teachings saved you from the Reddington army, didn''t they? So please... lend me your ear before your lip and let me illuminate you with further wisdom."


    -


    The demon proceeded to teach them five principles of undetected influence. From among the, according to him, one-hundred-and-seven principles the demonic house of temptation maintained.


    The first one was to identify the subject to be manipulated, and establish a sense of what their values and current base of knowledge were.


    "Some," he said, "can be determined by common sense. Quiet is a goblin, an outsider will know he will have no real status within society, but she will not know the extent of magical power you keep within the dungeon. Other things require research; does she know about the thieves'' guild? Can she perceive magic? You may have to ask around for this information, but don''t underestimate a human being''s eagerness to talk about herself."


    In practice, it was an undertaking getting her to talk at all with Quiet, who she considered a lower goblin no different from Barbara''s rabble. The house extended a helping hand by including him in budget negotiations, and liberally serving drinks.


    She remained sober, but did drop some implications of knowing about the dishonorable circumstances of the last guildmaster''s retreat. Which left constable Harkness the only person in the meeting completely in the dark.


    Cyclophan''s vetting of her words filled out the rest of the picture. A powerful adventurer that respected only strength, had refused to marry into nobility, and did not feel beholden to the platitudes of patriots. And not too interested in the conspiracies of weaker peasants.


    "A victory," Youthere called the evening, after Quiet had expressed disappointment for being so easily dismissed by her. "For this was not the time to make our final move. Not the time for battle, so to say, but for scouting terrain. Once the subject''s frame of reference has been established, the influencer can know which lies and implications fall within the boundaries of the credible. And you did very well not to take center stage as much."


    -


    The reason for that was the second principle of undetected influence, which was to keep one''s true goals as understated as possible.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "From now on, your interest in the woman must remain a secret," Youthere said, as they dressed Quiet up for his new position.


    "Shouldn''t I admit that I like her and ask her out?" Quiet asked softly.


    "Not at all! The less obvious it is what you want, the less noticeable it is when you scheme to get your way. In this case, your new job assisting the mage in clerical administration might conjure resistance if she knew it existed solely to bring you two closer together."


    "She wouldn''t like it?"


    "A human is ruled by their pride, master brother. She would not accept a romance that was pushed upon her! She must come up with the idea herself, and be master of her fate."


    "Instead, she''ll probably believe we''re putting a spy in her office, the Baronet trying to meddle with guild business." Scratch stated wryly. "I guess it''s fine... doesn''t cost us anything."


    "And then?" Second asked, "how will she come up with the idea? Just by herself?"


    Youthere took a step back to admire Quiet in his new guild staff uniform. "Of course not. Does that sound like the strategy of a demon of temptation? Nay, we must guide her thinking and ideas. But in a way that does not betray our hand."


    <hr>


    The third principle was Youthere''s oft repeated principle of self image.


    "Everything that humans do, is existential. You know this." He said, during the winding route towards the underground port. "Your precious Lydia is locked in an eternal death struggle against shame."


    "But we''re not going to meet Lydia, are we?" Scratch asked.


    Youthere gave Second a meaningful look. "She and her kinsmen share the same culture. The heroes celebrated in the realm of the fire goddess were protectors against monstrous threats. Consciously or not, those that came after measure their own virtue by their similarity to them."


    "What kinsman, who''s he talking about?" Scratch asked.


    "...Barbara." Second said. "Barbara asked me to help make her bazaar, but now she acts like it''s all hers. I wanted to have a say and I wanted to have a cut. So I asked You..."


    Scratch huffed, "You do have leverage he-"


    "It will be a good exercise," Youthere said, "we have the information regarding her knowledge, and we have not yet spoken the ambition. So now it is time to appeal to her pride."


    Scratch shook his head, "you have it all wrong. Barbara is a go-getter. If anything she''s too ruthless. I don''t see sentimentality getting in her way."


    "Too soon you are, again, to assume others are like you master. You may put notions of chivalry aside, but only because you idealize a different sort of hero. Barbara is not so lucky, though well hidden, her pragmatism is punished by the inner voice. Ah, we are here."


    Scratch would have argued further, if they weren''t now at Barbara''s developing underground market.


    A collection of rafts on the solid stone floor, hustling and bustling in activity by moving cranes of cargo.


    Barbara was at the top of the bustle, overseeing the activities in a lonely crow''s nest. She hadn''t seen them yet.


    "So... I should make her feel ashamed for not making me overseer, but I shouldn''t tell her that I want to be overseer..." Second thought out loud.


    "Ah-! Not quite young brother master. In this instance, I shall provide detailed instructions."


    -


    Barbara came down from her lookout post.


    Trade hadn''t slowed down from the smugglers having to exchange coin for the Promise banknotes, but it hardly mattered. The treasure chest was filled with cloth vouchers instead of gold.


    She had become acutely aware of the limitations of her positions. She was still the goblins'' brood slave, just with a wider range of travel and fancier things.


    But it wouldn''t do to run out on them either. Becoming a nameless peasant in some far off realm was if anything a step down from being captured by day goblins. Even more limited.


    This whole line of thinking brought her onto the idea that everyone is a prisoner of some kind to their circumstance, which she quickly dismissed.


    Wandering through the bazaar she nodded at people and shook hands, making sure to remind the patrons of her presence as the one making all of this possible.


    But before she knew it, they had involved her in a commercial dispute.


    "Now see here, he took my money but did not deliver the saffron. I demand this trade be nullified-"


    "I delivered! All who where there saw it. Miss overseer, it was his own weak grip that released it to the dragonbats."


    "What was that!?"


    At her gesture a man came in and separated the two smugglers.


    "Give the gentleman back his money, Richard." She said sweetly.


    "You can''t do that, it''s extortion! It''s-"


    He paid back the money.


    "Thank you Barbara, I knew I could count on you." The other man said.


    She gave a little bow. "The word of a bandit king goes far in this place."


    He chuckled contently. "Good then, just as I was losing hope in this place. I suppose I will return with our spoils then, especially if your new overseer fixes this monster problem."


    She paused, "...overseer?"


    "Weren''t you getting one? I''m sure I overheard- Well it does not matter. You have a wonderful evening." He tipped his hat at her.


    -


    "The other man was richer, wasn''t he?" Second asked afterwards.


    She startled slightly. "Oh. You."


    "You chose the side of the one you want to keep as a friend."


    "Of course I do. Now do you mind? The lifts are finished so you''re no longer required here." She prepared to move on, but he stopped her.


    "The ropes are no good."


    "What?"


    "I said the ropes are no good, the dragonbats got to them. You have to replace them."


    Barbara groaned deeply, so that the surrounding traders looked up. "Why are the dragonbats getting to anything? Can''t Scratch keep them away?"


    Second shook his head. "Scratch says the market is yours so he''s not helping. He says he only uses the dungeon to protect his family."


    She didn''t notice how rehearsed his speech had become because she was hit by its contents. "His family? Aren''t my goblins his family too?"


    Second left the question hang in the air as she became increasingly distressed at Scratch leaving her kids to cave predators.


    But the idea of hiring an overseer had just been planted in her mind.


    "Say..." she said, "how about I make you the overseer. You''re Scratch''s family. How about you and your friends get a job under me, eh? Replacing ropes, repairing the walkway, that''s basically a full occupation by itself."


    He turned his head to eye her from the side. "What do you want from me?"


    "I''ll give you an official title, in exchange you make this place your home. Come on."


    "What''s in it for me?"


    "Gold. Silver. Twenty silver monthly, how does that sound?"


    "..."


    "Twenty-five. Final offer."


    "Okay? Sure!" He quickly shook on it and ran off.


    Barbara wrung her hands. The compensation was on the high end, but it was worth it putting dirt in Scratch''s eye.


    He wouldn''t be too happy to find out he had to provide free protection to her enterprise to shield his brother from dungeon beasts.


    She finally got one over on the little miser.


    <hr>


    The fourth principle was the principle of commitment.


    "Once a deal is closed, it is closed," Youthere advised, "a person is disinclined to contradict themself, and disinclined to restart settled arguments. Unless the outcome is just that disagreeable to them, once they''ve said the words they need an excuse to break them."


    "They think they''ll lose trust within the community." Scratch said.


    "Perhaps, but mostly because they don''t think. Humans want to be manipulated master. They will take the path of least resistance every time. A closed deal does not require further thought."


    "That''s clearly not true. I''ve gotten druggies to sign shit before they knew the implications, you need a knuckle-breaker to enforce that sort of thing."


    Youthere wagged his finger, "only if it is new information, or the consequences are too severe. A gentle recontexualization will not push the mind from its grooved path. For this exercise I want you to commit miss Lacrima to a path for which she knows beforehand grants you privilege, but for which the power that privilege grants is not salient."


    "What are you saying?"


    -


    Not too long ago, Noss Fleder had developed the energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladder.


    A device for supplying spells with a continuous flow of mana.


    It had proven unproductive for the ambitious goal he had envisioned, but now found new life in a more compact form. For the first time regular goblins could make use of spellrods, if only for a few seconds.


    A goblin called Yuki, one of Barbara''s older spawn, was practicing with the device when Scratch came into Noss'' workspace.


    A mote of elemental fire burst from the rectangular metal box in his hands and nearly burnt Scratch''s eye-patch right off.


    "Eek!" The goblin quickly put down the item as if he could pretend it hadn''t been him.


    "That''s the new energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladder?" Scratch asked.


    He nodded.


    "Needs a pistol grip, you''ll lose it while running if it''s shaped like that."


    "Zhat is a prototype," Noss came flying down, miffed as if he was the one having narrowly avoided third-degree burns. "Zhe final version vill be more elegantly designed, naturally. I hope you are not here to ask for a siege harness again."


    "Of course not, ''course not..." Scratch plodded around, idly observing the nightmare of metal and crystal that had spurted up in the vampire''s den, scarring the basement floor of the dungeon with a patch of mad science.


    "So, vhat do you vant?"


    -


    "A ministry of magic?"


    Lacrima looked up in surprise at Noss'' relaying of Scratch''s demands.


    "Supposedly the blessing of Guth is exposing goblins to zhe errant curses and enchantments of zhe wider vorld. Zhey come to him vith questions vhether zhis or zhat is important or dangerous. Now he''s redirecting zhose matters to us."


    The old woman straightened out her wrinkles. As a servant of Guth, she had long sworn to protect regular people from forbidden magic.


    The goddess had relaxed those demands upon her however. It was no longer of her concern if the people of the region would experiment with dangerous, ugly magic. It didn''t matter...


    Though somewhere it did, if not by devotion to the goddess, then by standards of good taste.


    "Ve vould be given a ministry headquarters in the vitchvood, zhe Promise treasury paying for our materials. A bribe."


    "Well..." Lacrima dredged up her sweet old grandmother demeanor, "I suppose that''s perfectly fine. How nice, our own headquarters."


    "If the baronet is villing to pay money for it, it must be benefiting him some vay..." Noss theorized.


    "No doubt. He will be wanting me out of the way within the dungeon, won''t he? But soon, we won''t need the dungeon anymore."


    "You mean-?"


    "The hour of the bloodmoon is steadily approaching, Fleder. Soon the fruits of our magic will bloom supreme."


    The two locked hands. "Truly, I am blessed zhat I may live to see it."


    -


    "The last trick," Youthere said, "is the most difficult. Especially for you, master."


    "Do I really want to know what it is...?" Scratch put his feet upon the manor table. "Alright, you can tell me."


    "It is to withold celebration."


    "What?" He became annoyed and put his feet back down, "whaddoya want?"


    "In the coming weeks, the mages will realize that they cannot hide the broader strokes of their machinations with you if you must underwrite and ship every component and artifact they need. When they do, you can not gloat."


    Scratch avoided eye contact, "so what? I don''t gloat."


    "When you reveal the intentionality of your schemes, you risk fumbling their rewards. Prideful heads will rebel against your victory. Instead, always present yourself as a passive party, feign weakness where you have strength so to say. This will preserve your relationship for future manipulation."


    "Sure, sure, I always do that."


    "Master. No. Gloating."


    "All. Right!" Sheesh.


    <hr>


    There was a temple being built within the Promise''s central perimeter.


    The unexpected attack on the town by the siege harness had ruined some homes, and that space now begged for new construction.


    As housing had been taken care of elsewhere, someone had jumped in reserved the location for the church.


    That someone was Lydia Harkness.


    "What''s going on?" Scratch asked suspiciously, seeing the heavy foundations being laid.


    She gently gestured towards the constable observing the proceedings. "If we are to keep the favor of the kingdom, we''ll do well to show off our piety. You said before that getting an adventuring


    guildhouse here increases the investment the people have in our existence. Well... the same is true for a temple."


    "There aren''t many pilgrims as there are adventurers. I refuse to believe it." He said.


    "No Scratch, but clergymen and healers have an influence of their own. And let''s not forget that it is considered blasphemy to damage holy property even in war."


    "I don''t know what what your religious practices are Lydia, and frankly I don''t care. These are the people that said I was an enemy of the gods. No, officially declared it."


    She smiled. "So you think there''s no hope for you with them."


    "I don''t know, maybe I just got my feelings hurt a little bit and I don''t want to suck up to them."


    "Let''s try something. How about you go directly to the top and set the record straight?"


    "What?"


    "The statues are already in place. If you go there, you will feel the gods'' presence."


    She gestured for him to enter the half theoretical husk of a church, but did not make to follow him.


    "It''s a personal experience."


    -


    What was to become a church already had alcoves with the gods'' likeness.


    Statically posed humanoid forms, made distinct by the items they wore.


    Despite Lydia''s claim of divine presence, there were no strings of magical energy that he could perceive. Only dead rock.


    The woman holding the orb and staff had to be Guth.


    "You''re gonna come to life?" He asked.


    No answer.


    "Your girl is a real headache to me you know..." he petered off. Nobody was listening.


    "So you know about Sanadora. No matter."


    He spun around, because a different statue had begun speaking. The woman holding the sword and burning wreath.


    From where he stood, he could see only the head move, and magic, if it were there, a distant beam stretching into the infinite sky.


    "Once my champion reaches this place, she will destroy you once and for all." Benesant said.


    "You''re so persistent!" He straightened himself out and faced her with dignity. "Are you still on about Cyclophan and the witch? I mean, it''s hardly a capital offense."


    "Impertinence! Your crimes have only increased thousandfold since I lest held you in my grasp."


    "Oh. Crimes," he waved her off and turned his back to the statue, "what crimes? So I sell a bit of dope, fence some hot wares, that''s what poor people do. See here the humility you asked for."


    "You shall know for what sins you stand accused, villain," she fumed, "consorting with an evil god, the slaying of righteous men and the sparing of unrighteous men, the proliferation of ungodly magic, corruption of the innocent, and the perversion of rule of law."


    With his back to her, he counted on his fingers, "that''s all?" he asked.


    Her face was a snarled grimace when he turned to look. She bend towards him, but it was clear that the statue would not serve as an instrument to crush him with. Her movement was too limited.


    "Whatever other sins you''ve cultivated in that dark hole of yours will come to the surface when the incineration spell once again turns them to flame. This time, burning not just your body but your soul as well."


    By saying this, she revealed to him that she had no knowledge of his pact with the other major goddess, or the council of dungeon lords.


    "Oooh, scary." He grinned, by riling her up he could salvage some sense of control in the situation. "That must be a desperate move, couldn''t get your church guys to do it for you, huh? Don''t they have statues of you? Maybe they forgot to include the wrinkled nose and you can''t get a connection."


    She noticed his mood and deliberately drew back into a superior disdain. "Your mission is to annoy me with your last few months of life, go ahead. I have more worlds to concern myself with, and soon I will be purged of your putrid soul in my celestial domain. Then I will longer have a sinner like yourself able to call upon my presence above the ability of my true believers."


    He side-eyed the door and open spaces as inconspicuously as he could, but there were no witnesses to the small miracle in front of him. "My mission isn''t to annoy you," he lied, "believe it or not just I want for us to bury the hatchet."


    The falsehood awakened Cyclophan to their conversation.


    "You did some stuff, I did some stuff. Let''s say it roughly evens out and we learn to live with each other, huh?"


    "There is no negotiation to be had here. You are damned, and you shall know damnation."


    She was about to return to the formless abstraction of divinity, but he jumped in there with an incendiary comment.


    "Why, ''cause you''re jealous?"


    "..."


    "You didn''t take away your blessing on these bandits, did you? You still believe in them, but they''d rather follow me than you."


    She scoffed, "you consider yourself a rival in exaltation to *me*? The goddess of light?"


    "Of course not. That would be preposterous wouldn''t it? To think the goddess would take such a personal interest in wiping me out."


    "You are nothing to me. NOTHING!" She very nearly screamed. "A gnat!"


    "Because you would rather silence me, than try to win them back. That''s the real story, isn''t it?"


    "Your rotten, indulgent soul could never hope to see the shadow of the real story. I swear that they shall denounce you."


    He cocked his head playfully, "not by martyring me, you won''t. That''s not what happened last time."


    "Then... you shall live to see your feeble demogaugery eclipsed by my sun."


    He stuck out his hand, "It''s a deal then. I''ve gotten you to call off your hitwoman."


    She came to her senses. "No. You will be destroyed, and that will be that."


    Fumbling the reward. He sighed.


    -


    Lydia hadn''t expected Scratch to magically become converted from one visit, but when he exited the church he told her to build it larger, "make it so they all have their own rooms."


    <hr>


    A rumbling explosion rocked the forest.


    Tina withdrew her staff, as the siege harness had been defeated, its eight limbs scattered through the wider territory.


    "I''ve never seen a siege harness like *that*. Almost like a spider." Margaret said.


    "Spend much time studying siege harnesses then?" Tina asked sardonically.


    "I simply worry, that''s all. We''re really committed to it now, aren''t we? Fighting off foreign invaders to protect our way of life. We can''t return to being adventurers after this."


    The mage shrugged and simply continued her way back. "I''m not looking back, and neither should you. We have Laurus now, and the baronet is committed to funding us."


    "The baronet brings us food and service for as long as we remain useful," Margaret caught up to her, "for as long as there *is* a Baronet."


    "Yes? So what?"


    "Nothing it''s just... let''s make sure to keep our combat ability up, huh? Just in case this sort of thing keeps happening. We can''t rely on Laurus'' strength anymore."


    Now Tina looked at her, and she nodded. "I understand what you''re saying. We have a family now, let''s protect it. All of us."


    "Right."


    A smile crept up on her face. "Though I know one thing you''ve been keeping up training for... stamina."


    "Wha- Oh, naughty. Naughty!"


    The two fell into a playful slap fight as they returned to their bathhouse, where they would continue the communal subjugation of the man they once worshipped.


    <hr>


    Devil Altar


    Dungeons controlled by a dungeon master may sometimes contain devil altars. These must be destroyed or avoided.


    Devil altars can be recognized by glowing ambient light, with no clear source, and their central location in a dungeon''s path.


    You may expect a devil altar if the dungeon is filled with demonic monsters, such as imps or hell hounds. As the devil altar is used for demon summoning.


    If adventurers are not able to clear the dungeon, destroying the devil altar is highly encouraged.


    Devil altars are one of the five main tools that rank B and higher dungeons use to cast the surrounding lands in darkness. They can be used to create minions, create cursed artifacts, and curse nearby communities.


    In order to destroy a devil altar, adventurers need to destroy the slab that forms its center, and any depictions of the presiding evil god that have the site within view.

 Concerning Power

    The various qualities of dungeons and wyrm shards left a great deal of freedom to their masters in the particulars of magecraft.


    Some dungeon lords spread out their dungeons in confusing, branching mazes, while others maintained a single endless corridor filled with their mightiest defenses all in a row.


    Some dungeon lords kept their dungeon a secret, while others threw away subtlety to build up the strongest defenses they could.


    And some dungeon lords spread out development over many different dungeons to not have one weak point, while others build up a single mega-dungeon.


    Arlette, the water witch, was in the mega-dungeon camp.


    The Stillwater Ocean was a structure fit in size to house a thousand regular dungeons.


    The opening to the surface, from which it derived its magical flow, was a trio of roaming whirlpools on the windless sea. Each siphon large enough to swallow a cargo ship like the Roving Mare, yet a thin proboscis to the underwater cave it led into.


    Great aqueducts snaking in all directions like tangled knots.


    Giant works of glass to make the craftsmen of Grienice blush, that separated bodies of water, shielded treasure, and trapped unprepared invaders.


    That, and the plethora of unique aquatic species, evolved and mutated into its own otherworldly ecosystem. A food chain of graceful but ruthless violence, in which humanity stood with the very bottom.


    It could very well be called a realm of its own. As it would take a month to reach the very bottom, even without all these obstacles.


    Scratch had taken the warp circle instead.


    -


    Arlette resided in a massive lake, the ends of which were not visible from the middle.


    Scratch tentatively tested the water surface with his heel. The water-walking spell prevented him from breaking through, but it felt like there would be a maximum force the tension couldn''t repel.


    Anyhow, as it were, he was able to stand, and he took a few steps out towards the emptiness. To where Arlette was waiting patiently underneath.


    He bend over to talk to her face to face, as the merwoman was suspended horizontally in the crystal water below.


    "Your vampire friend is not with you then," she bubbled.


    "Now that you mention it, no. I must have left him somewhere."


    As she spoke, the still aura of silence was not broken. Laying there at the other side of the water''s surface, she was like an otherworldly thing, speaking to him from beyond infinity. Untouchable.


    "Most dungeon lords would rather die than expose themselves so vulnerably in a rival''s dungeon. Alone." She said.


    The blood was flowing to his head, so he righted himself and turned away from her. "Well, you have nothing to gain from hurting me. And anyway, he''s not stellar as a bodyguard."


    Giant white fins, shark fins, briefly circled around them at a distance and then sunk into the darkness below. Not to come back up anytime soon.


    "I meant to ask before..." he said, feigning nonchalance, as if it were a passing interest, "your magic is a kind of witchcraft, isn''t it?"


    "I have left the service of Guth, and I now practice dark sorcery. But I suppose... it finds its basis in witchcraft."


    The image of a very young child appeared in the air. Some sort of projection showing a scene from a foreign land.


    The child had red hair and was flying over a desolate wasteland.


    "I can conjure up visions of faraway places. This one shares a divine connection with you, so your presence led me to her. And now that I can see her form I may reach out over the thread of sympathetic magic." A tendril of water moved out of the lake and into the vision, where it encircled the kid''s throat and formed a ball of water.


    The child gasped for air and inhaled water, beginning to drown. It landed gently on the ground and sunk to its knees, struggling with imminent death.


    "I have never seen this gremlin in my life." Scratch said.


    "Liar, see how you recoil at seeing her suffering."


    "That''s enough!" He yelled.


    The magical water disappeared, and the kid stood up and healed herself. For a second it seemed like she looked directly at them, then the vision disappeared.


    "You will show fear in my domain, servant of the Lich." Arlette demanded.


    Scratch breathed in and out, a small meditative ritual to expel unnecessary emotion. "I apologize. As a goblin, I am slow to pick up on fear. It''s a species-wide genetic condition. Didn''t mean to offend you."


    She looked at him superiorly.


    "But witchcraft, I mean it''s fascinating, right?" He said as gently as possible. "We have a witch at the Promise, and she''s up to all sorts of things. Building a temple out of wood and bone, collecting fairy parts. Wants to have it all concluded before a certain day in the year. Really esoteric stuff. I just gotta trust that it''s for the good of the tribe, noamsayin?"


    The false goddess of the sea suddenly curled over into a wicked belly laugh, so that her head burst out of the water''s surface. "Hahaha! Just got to trust her! A follower of Guth! Ahaha!"


    Although the laughter was wicked, it broke the illusion of spiritual unreality as she was birthed into his world of air and sound.


    She wiped a tear from her eye and the distance between them seemed a lot less than infinite right then.


    "Is that funny?" He asked.


    "Let me ask you something, frightless goblin. This day, it would be the the June solstice that she aims to complete her work, is it not?"


    "I seem to remember something about the middle of June, yes?"


    "You fool! That day is the blood moon!"


    He opened his palms to her in a gesture of innocence and ignorance.


    "Let me break it down for you. Guth, she is the goddess of magic and the goddess of the moon, isn''t she?"


    "Yes."


    "So the moon is her greatest weapon. And once every few hundred years it eclipses the sun during an equinox. That''s when Guth''s creations can overpower those of Benesant. This witch owes you no loyalty, that much is clear. When the bloodmoon is here her temple will command the stars in the sky and steal the very lands your people reside in for the goddess'' domain." She inspected her fingernails, "but sure, let it happen. It would take a chunk out of Ritter''s power to see your children driven back underground, so my kishin Zajjit and I would only be all the more pleased."


    "Especially since that would constitute a betrayal." Scratch noted.


    Her eyes lit up. "Exactly! But now I know you''re just teasing me, come tell me what your true business is here."


    He hesitated, his true business had indeed been to gather intelligence on witches, but it would be best not to try her patience now. "Just tryin'' to be friendly," he smiled, "just because this is an alliance of convenience, that doesn''t mean we can''t get along. Ritter thinks so too."


    "You must have brought a gift, then, to appease me."


    "....yeees."


    -


    He dug around in his pockets.


    "I have. Wait just a minute... aha!"


    From his person he conjured a small cloth rectangle, with Lydia Harkness'' face on it.


    She approached him and her face kneaded a bit, "What is that filthy rage?"


    "It says ''five'' on it," he explained, and flapped the thing like it was a coveted treasure. "You can use it as that many gold pieces in my territory."


    She took it out of his hand, "you thought... this would please me?"


    "Ah- Hehe, not so much the amount. But think of what it represents, huh? There is no earthly way you installed all this glass without outside help, you paid for it. Had to go through a convoluted scheme to keep it clandestine, I reckon-"


    "I will periodically flood and enslave the lower banks of Grienice to provide me with industry, until the adventurers'' guild conquers it back."


    "I- Well... there you go, can''t be cheap neither. But with my credit bank and the entire population of destitute bandits at my disposal, I can install economies. Get it?" He flicked the paper in her hand, "you pay with these ones and you have a willing workforce. No finding middlemen, no flooding and enslaving, just a clear exchange of goods and services. Glass, weapons, bespoke industry, uhmm... etcetera."


    She rose up, once again donning her distant aura. "And I should be dependent on you, for these tokens, huh? Able to spend at your coastal shop as much as you allow me to."


    He threw up his hands, "no... no! Of course not. You may exchange them with me for gold, of course. But you can obtain them any number of ways; sell to the bandits, tax them of your minions, maybe loot them of a body. They''re much like gold in that way, exactly like gold, really."


    Arlette rolled up the bill and hid it in her cleavage, "the crucial difference being that people that take gold can be persuaded to serve other masters."


    "The crucial difference being-" he gently corrected "that people that take gold are of interest to the adventurers'' guild."


    She took pause, "you mean..."


    "The guild is a fundamentally mercenary organization Arlette. They won''t be ''freeing'' any towns they can''t loot, not if there aren''t any good bounties."


    A little smile crept up to the side of her face, "I see. Come on then, what''s the catch?"


    "The catch?" A catch would be good for credibility. "Ah... you caught me. The catch is Kato- that is to say: Abyss- will be keen on stationing some of his shadow bandits in all my cities. Spies, you know. Lydia is setting up something similar and... well it''s a competitive field."


    Arlette was content with this small victory over him and dropped her reservations. "Good. I will take action to protect your town against Abyss'' forces if I deem it profitable to myself. He is our mutual rival after all."


    "Indeed!"


    "Wouldn''t want him to destroy this world before I do."


    "...yes."


    -


    "How much gold can you exchange for now?" The witch asked.


    "Now? We haven''t even started the town yet. You''re just going to trust me with your money?"


    Arlette chuckled, "well I do have enough of the worthless metal."


    The dark depths underneath turned clear, or displayed yet another illusion, showing an endless horizon of gold, silver, and chests of currency.


    "All of the sunken treasures of the world are mine." She sang.


    Scratch took a few steps back on the rippling water, overwhelmed in his senses by the immensity of the hoard that had surrounded him. "This is- How much is this?"


    "Oh I''m sure it''s more than can be found in all the coffers and pockets of the overworld. All dungeon lords except Yanis are much the same, gold is not much more than an onerous side-product in the pursuit of magical power. We''re all bursting with it."


    "This, uh- this might affect my plans." He stuttered.


    "Whatever you like. I will give you time to prepare, Scratch. But don''t test my patience, I will not indulge you again."


    She dove into the water without disturbing its surface, and the depths extinguished their lights once more.


    He was alone on that stretched surface now, the only ripple coming from his magically floating soles.


    "You''re gonna leave me here? Do I gotta find my own way ba- Oh shit. Sharks."


    He hurriedly skipped back towards solid ground to find the warping circle.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    <hr>


    Two hours later Lydia was pleased to see Scratch frequent the temple again.


    She had had the suspicion for a while now that he was more spiritually significant than he had let on. After all, Benesant had returned him from the dead and Guth had blessed their children.


    Hopefully, there was some connection to be made with the gods that would save them. Some alliance or friendship, some...


    "Yeah! Get lost then! And your accent''s fake too." The goblin came stamping out of the moon goddess'' alcove.


    The expanded temple had separate corners for each god, so they could be prayed to in privacy, free from the eavesdropping of other gods or mortals.


    The woman grit her teeth for a second and then relaxed. "Scratchie... you didn''t cuss in your confessions to our goddess, did you?"


    "Nasty woman double-crossed us." He said with a sincerity of emotion he seldom showed. "Do me a favor and send for Lacrima, I need her in a cell before midnight."


    "I don''t understand."


    "Guth. And Lacrima. Are in cahoots. Against us." He said in a slow and condescending manner, as if speaking to an idiot.


    Only after saying it did he realize he was venting his frustrations against her, so he breathed in and breathed out deeply to quiet his emotions.


    "I just spoke to Guth," he said softly, "and I was told basically to go take a hike. Lacrima is setting this whole side of the map on fire over some stupid fairy shit, so we better put a stop to it ourselves or there won''t be much of the colonies left."


    That she understood.


    In an instant, Lydia had disappeared. She had taken on her wolf form to race with the wind.


    <hr>


    That Scratch had been able to record and list the preparations Lacrima had made to another witch came due to the face that she had taken him up on his offer to provide for her entire operation.


    Due to the resources of the Promise, that temple was now the centerpiece of a small sanctuary.


    A grove had been cleared out in the thick woods, into a patch of verdant grass on which her hallows stood.


    The temple in the middle, a horizontal hoop of braided twig and carved bone suspended high to receive the moon by likewise pillars. And huts and pens encircling it, a three-armed spiral of bound wood to accentuate its majesty. All within that patch of clear sky between the foliage of the woods.


    Lacrima let her old boney hand knock against the uneven ruffle of branches and twigs that was the wall of her observatory.


    The buildings spiraling out from the temple could contain no steel or stone, as that would disturb the bloodmoon ritual, so they had a wild character not wholly unlike dead hedges lain out by woodsmen or peasant farmers. A pile of dead sticks that opened up to the sky.


    The observatory was the tallest of these buildings, and she ascended her stairway to its elevated floor with a strained haste. She had already felt they were coming for her.


    -


    The wind howled into the dead walls, and a chill gripped her shoulders.


    She had waited her whole life for the bloodmoon and she was now an old woman, the short climb had taken her breath.


    But she found what she was looking for.


    Hidden between the gaps, underneath the thicket of assorted woods, lay hidden a tiny poppet.


    An item of witchcraft containing the goblin baronet''s essence.


    She clutched it tightly and looked out the window.


    Outside there were still goblins unloading materials and laying foundations, they knew of nothing.


    Then, a streak of air rippled the grass and three shadows swept alongside it.


    By the time she had turned around to face the stairs they had already rushed inside and stood bearing their fangs on the upper floor.


    "Stay back!" She commanded, holding up the poppet. "The slightest magic and this poppet will drain the very moisture from your master''s bon-"


    She was on the ground.


    The wind wolves had pinned her down in the time it took to blink.


    The teeth on her wrist had made her drop the talisman, and the teeth around her throat made her freeze up and stop moving.


    "If it were me I''d rip out your throat," the she-wolf said, "but Scratch wants you alive."


    The witch clenched her jaw.


    Lydia poked her. "You may be very grateful."


    <hr>


    Two hours later, Lacrima was tied against a heavy wooden chair in the mansion.


    It was a thick ornamented piece imported from Reddington''s heartlands. A wealthy man''s oaken approach to a throne, which a man couldn''t just rock with his weight.


    It anchored her to the floor.


    A cold splash of water briefly drowned the witch.


    "Good morning." The baronet said.


    "I was already awake you idiot!"


    He raised an eyebrow. "I know. It''s morning."


    Lacrima stretched her fingers. She didn''t have the poppet, but she had her magic, and he was right in front of her...


    Scratch snapped his fingers and the troll behind her tilted the chair, hanging it out the open window.


    The the moon jilted upside-down before her eyes, wind blew into her ears, and blood rushed to her head. She was about to fall from the second story with her head directly onto the stone plaza.


    "Ah! No!" All planning and magical spells slipped from her mind as she was faced with imminent death.


    The troll leaned her slightly back, so she could face the Baronet, but not so far that she could feel at ease.


    "What I used to do is- I used to send some guy over to break kneecaps and snip of fingers with a pair of clippers. Alas, we don''t have clippers here- unless it''s for toenails- and I wanted to interrogate you personally. Don''t have the stomach for torture myself." He snapped his fingers and they turned her upside down again.


    "No! No! I know what you want! I know! I''ll tell you everything."


    "Your friend the goddess has already told me everything. How about you talk to me in your own words, and we''ll see how well your stories match. How about that?"


    There was nothing left of the smug and irreverent rogue. The Scratch before her was a dead serious killer.


    "All my life have I prepared for this bloodmoon..." she gasped, still drenched from the cold water, "I have mastered the goddess'' magic of transformation and control... so we could claim the witchwood for her domain."


    "And what does that mean? Her domain."


    She eyed the troll. "It means... a ritual."


    Scratch made a gesture and she was dangled out again.


    "It means you''re transforming the entire forest into something nasty, something that will poison the earth all the way to the shoreline," he said while she hung over the broad rocky tiles of the mansion square, "do you even know what for?"


    She closed her eyes and cringed at incoming death, so she had to be pulled in again before she could answer.


    "I have served the glory of Guth since I was a very young child. I don''t do it for any reward, not that someone like you''d understand."


    "No- What. For." He balled his tiny fist in her face, "did you never ask why she needs the forest?


    -


    A shadow appeared in the window.


    Noss Fleder stepped inside, going from bat to man. "Let her go, Scratch. You can''t stop-"


    He clutched his chest and fell to the floor.


    "Why is not important," Lacrima huffed, "if I needed to know the goddess'' greater plans she would have seen fit to tell me."


    Scratch raised his voice. "Well she saw fit to tell me."


    Lydia knocked on the door and came in. "Is the threat contained? If need be I will kill her for you." She paused to look at Fleder, dead on the floor.


    "Stop..." he pinched the bridge of his nose, "can everybody stop coming in? I''m trying to intimidate someone here."


    "Oh, sorry." She closed the door behind her but didn''t leave, instead opting to stand by the opening like a guard.


    He gave her a side-eye but returned to the conversation. "You sold Guth''s blessing as some sort of reward to us, but it''s really for her sake, isn''t it? That''s what makes gods go, spreading their aspects into the world."


    "The goddess is the personification of her demesne," Lacrima said through her teeth, "the more magic there is in the world, the more powerful. The fairy grove is a great power that does not fall within her aspect of magic, we must capture all fairy forests to bring feykind into her fold."


    "So you do know then, thanks for being open with me." He sighed. "You could have done the same thing that you did for us."


    "I am an old woman, and I will not be around to control the witchwood forever. Soon after me, it will produce a new fairy queen and it will reject the witch-magic. That''s why we must transform the grove by the time of the bloodmoon, to make the communal baptism permanent." She struggled against the restraints.


    "After you? You''re talked about years into the future."


    "Faith allows mortals to plan beyond their death. Bestial self-interest only until their next meal."


    At any other time he would have wagged his finger and acknowledged her dig at his insult, but he kept a sober disdain.


    "You need me to control the fairies," she said, "without me to transform into a fairy queen- even if only periodically- they will regain their wills and attack your lands once again."


    "It''s been years since that last happened. Our population has doubled many times over and our infrastr-"


    "Let me through," Youthere demanded from behind the door, he managed to push it open but Lydia shut it on him. "I must be there when the master first develops a taste for torture."


    "I will do the torturing, if it were to come to that." She said.


    Noss Fleder had woken up, "Zhis is all a misunderstanding."


    "That''s it. Everybody OUT!" Scratch waved his arms and herded Lydia, the troll, and Noss out the door.


    -


    Once he had them out he rested his back to the door. "You''re so filled with it." He said spitefully.


    "With what?" Without the troll there she retrieved some confidence, and balled her fist to start casting magic.


    "I don''t know. Obsequiousness?"


    "Is that a word?"


    "Lost me a scrabble game once."


    "...what?"


    "You worship this woman, like she''s some... some..."


    "Goddess."


    He scoffed. "I''ve talked to her a few times now, and every word is burned permanently into my memory. As far as I can tell, Guth, goddess of magic is just some chick doing a bad Shakespeare impression. There''s nothing eternal or exalted about her."


    This enraged the witch. "You hold your blasphemous tongue! You will know her majesty be the forms she bestowed upon me. TRANSFORM!"


    Briefly her eyes bulged out and her form swelled, but then she returned to normal.


    "Ah... TRANSFORM!"


    Nothing happened.


    Now Scratch''s smug cheek returned, as he swung a talisman around his finger.


    It was the poppet she had made of him.


    "I replaced the inside," he explained, "if it''s my hair in there it connects to me, if it''s your hair, it connects to you. Right?"


    He held it up over his outstretched hand, and to both their magical eyes, the curse on top was visible.


    "Since, if I curse your body directly you can just walk up to somebody to get it removed, I decided to just steal your sympathetic magic thing."


    The curse was a stripped down frantic creation, like a watch that had all but two gears removed, but with those two gears spinning like flywheels.


    "Designed it myself." He said.


    "You don''t say..." she said it a low voice.


    "I may not know much about what makes spells work, but I know curses use the host''s magic juice to cast them."


    "They use the host''s mana."


    "That''s what I said. Anyway, this one just wastes the mana. Opens up the valves and dumps it in the ether. Gone."


    She rocked her body and screamed. "You''ve taken my magic from me!"


    "I''m putting you in house arrest. Just like Second."


    "You are defying the goddess!"


    "The goddess and I will have to work things out between the two of us, without you." He opened up the door. "You can take her down now, and bring in the vampire. What do you mean he lef- go find him!"


    "How..." Lacrima seethed as she was untied and escorted out, "How did I let you grow so powerful? When?"


    "There''s no such thing." He said dismissively.


    <hr>


    [No!] Wahnzin is screaming at the top of her lungs.


    [We must have lost another one, if I hear you screaming like that.] I say.


    I''m already excited to see what the battle looked like!


    Wahnzin has build a big scrying eye in the rafters of the factory. There''s a platform with a sofa and rugs there, so it''s actually really cozy.


    If I didn''t have to oversee the production I would sit up here all day watching mech battles.


    [Oh. Diedrich.] She''s saluting again.


    [Jeez, don''t salute me like some general. We''re friends aren''t we?]


    [It''s the captain model that we send to the Reddington coastal region...] She sighed.


    [Did we make some mistake?]


    [I don''t think so. Well... just take a look.]


    She enchants the scrying eye to replay what it was just showing.


    It''s like a big TV. I wonder if we could show idol shows on scrying eyes in people''s homes.


    [Here it is, the last moments of the captain model in the monster corrupted barony...]


    We''re seeing through the siege harness'' eyes. It''s making its way alongside a river and the goblins'' chimneys are already visible in the distance.


    Suddenly, pair of giant plants rise up above the treetops begin crossing the water.


    [Poison ents.] Wahnzin says. [Enemies of manmade structures and technology.]


    [I see. So the siege harness was destroyed by some powerful creatures in the area.]


    [It''s a rank D zone,] she complains, [there''s not supposed to be any powerful creatures!]


    The pilot draws the harness'' weapon. A rod of elemental lightning is not going to be as useful on ents as it is on other harnesses...


    But the ents ignore him! They''re facing off with a shield wall of soldiers. None of them have siege harnesses, but there''s a lot of them. Rows upon rows with tall metal shields.


    This is getting exciting!


    [Are those Reddington soldiers?] I sit down on the sofa to watch the spectacle unfold.


    [Diedrich... these are the hobgoblins that the Reddington crown leaves the territory to.]


    [Wow. I didn''t know hobgoblins could be so advanced.]


    The pilot loses his nerve and charges, attacking one of the ents with the rod.


    We don''t see much of the others fight as he beats down on the ent and cracks open the weird front bit with all the holes in it.


    Spores come flying out.


    [Ah. He had no problem with the ent after all.]


    [As expected of Diedrich''s masterwork.] Lothar says.


    I didn''t even notice him coming up here.


    We bump fists.


    [Lothar. Properly hail the master smith.] Wahnzin demands.


    [You want me to fall off this rope ladder?]


    We both laugh.


    As the spores clear, the recording of the siege harness comes face to face with the hobgoblin army.


    [Hey, wait a minute. How did those little guys defeat those big ents already!?]


    [Pay attention!] Wahnzin demands.


    After a few seconds of neither side attack the other, the pilot lunges forward.


    But instead of trying to block him, or scattering, the shield wall recedes to let him in.


    Now they can attack him from all sides!


    The pilot swings the weapon around to drive them away, but they stay where they are at a safe distance and fire low level magic spells at it.


    [Hah, elemental fire and ice can''t break through are dwarven rune plating.] Lothar cheers, as if he was the one that came up with it.


    But the spells are only a distraction, the legs of the siege harness are being bound by metal cables and harpoons are digging into its arms.


    The pilot breaks and flings most of them, but it''s forced to one knee anyway.


    [And now come the trolls...] Wahnzin says.


    The siege harness can still swing its weapon pretty well, but can''t get up and move its feet as quickly.


    Before you know it, a bunch of gray gorillas are have jumped in front of the shield wall.


    They have big shiny gauntlets that extend past the arm like pointy shovels, and they can use it to block the mech''s swings.


    Whenever it hits one with the side of the rod, it twirls around using the impact as momentum and ends up clinging to it like a monkey on a branch.


    They''re just too fast! They leap right up to the mech''s chest and shove their shovels right between the plating.


    How can they break through it so easily...?


    [It''s STEEL!] I yell out. [They get to use tons of steel!]


    [Are you sure?] Lothar asks.


    [That shine, that flexibility but still with strength. It''s tempered steel.]


    [Then they truly are a serious military...] Whanzin bites her thumb as the last images show the subhumans dismantling the mech.


    [Che.] Lothar clicks his tongue. [If it were me piloting I would have won there.]


    [There was a young noblewoman piloting that siege harness,] Wahnzin says, [she is presumed missing now. In the hands of... those creatures.]


    Lothar falls silent. I guess that is pretty sad.


    [Sorry Diedrich... I know it was only supposed to be a test run for the new model. But now...]


    They''re not getting how exciting this is.


    [Isn''t this great!?] I say.


    [Wha- huh?] They both say.


    [There''s a region we can field our siege harness in with giant monsters and complicated woodland field battles! I already have so many ideas. Whanzin, using our special technique, can you grow some forma lines like a many legged creature, such as a spider?]


    [I- My witchcraft can do that. But will it be alright? Aren''t we supposed to focus on the war?]


    [The war will be fine, it''s getting boring winning every battle anyway. A real challenge will help us improve our designs!]


    [Well that''s fine but- I can''t guarantee such a design will work. Okay? Whether a pilot can make sense of that many limbs.]


    [That''s up to my control scheme. I already have a plan...]


    [And I will be there to test pilot as always.] Lothar says.


    We bump fists.


    This is going to be so cool! My machines are going to run all over that goblin town!


    <hr>


    Special Event: Driving Back the Invading Sea


    Adventurers active within Grienice may apply at the location marked on the map. While this event is active, no other adventuring may take place within the southern Beauteaux barony, other than by special request from the Grienician senate.


    At the strategy camp, adventurers will be delegated jobs based on their ability. This may result in the temporary break-up of parties.


    Defending the Waterworks


    Adventurers of rank E & F may be delegated to the defense of the sluices and dykes being installed to drain liberated territory of sea water. In this effort you will be supported by high ranking staff members and expected to engage only with rank appropriate monsters, such as sea-slimes, razor morays, and merfolk soldiers.


    This task pays 5 silver pieces a day and comes with rations and living quarters.


    Repelling Darkness


    Adventurers of rank E or higher that have the mage or bard class may be asked to identify, seek out, or neutralize dark sorcery. They will be asked to stay within the confines of the strategy camp. Adventurers with the healer class may be asked to stay there as well, to receive returning parties.


    This tasks pays 6 silver pieces a day and comes with rations and living quarters.


    Freeing Territory


    Adventurers of rank D or higher may be placed within the auxiliary forces for the liberation effort.


    They will be asked to support the Grienician army by scouting ahead, breaking up concentrations of monsters, and taking down high profile boss monsters.


    In this effort you will be expected to face merfolk soldiers, mudsharks, and water elementals. With the opportunity to claim bounties on higher level monsters, such as sirens, giant mudsharks, and named merfolk generals. As southern Beauteaux is currently a flooded urban area, means of traversal through water are advised. Flight or suitable acrobatics for rooftop traversal may serve as substitute according to the adventurer''s own judgment.


    This task pays 5 silver pieces a day, as well as the bounty for high level slain enemies and whatever can be looted of their corpses.


    The mission to slay the Kraken will be drafted after suitable headway has been made into gaining territory, and the parties will be selected based on performance in freeing territory. This will be a promotion quest to rank B.

 Inadequate

    The wand was en elegantly carved ebony ''J''.


    Unlike a spellrod, it did not have a gem at the end, but a subtlety glowing vein curled around it to point towards the subject. Rendering it a whole lot less ostentatious of an object, something more suited to the esteemed and venerable discipline of spellcraft.


    Scratch shook it about like a broken remote. "And how do I set it off?"


    "Ah- well..." The bandit man fretted back and forth. "If you repeat the mnemonic, the way to flow your magic should feel natural. So just... say the words."


    He pointed the wand. "Rhada''s touch."


    The vampire didn''t flinch. And, indeed, nothing happened.


    "Magic is cast by constricting zhe flow of magic, not by opening it. You vill never cast a zhing if you can not move your internal chambers."


    "You don''t have an ethereal body, Papa Scratch?" The bandit asked in slight disbelief. "Are you really just a regular goblin?"


    Scratch looked at Noss and gestured at the human, with a now-look-what-you''ve-done expression as one might give an incompetent mason after the collapse of their handy-work.


    The bandit''s name was Bert, and he had been a mage in an adventuring party of slightly-above-average repute before falling into criminality and exile due to a sweet crimson addiction.


    "A goblin may guide zhe growth of a curse, sure, given a devil altar. Curses take and excrete magic on zheir own after, all. But zhat vand... nozhing more zhan a child''s toy in your hand." Noss teased.


    "Zhe most you could do is disrupt zhe magic of ozhers."


    "Screw this." Scratch grabbed a spellrod with energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladder attached to the back.


    It had an ergonomic grip to allow aiming through the line of the forearm that encased the metal box and gave the entire instrument a compact, practical appearance.


    A squeeze at the trigger launched three motes of elemental fire towards the vampire.


    This time he did flinch, but for nothing, as they all missed the target by a wide margin.


    "You shoot him," Scratch handed Bert the charged spellrod. "Aim for the heart, that''s like a vampire''s brain."


    Having briefly died, Noss shook awake. "Stop. Enough. You have made your point."


    "This isn''t intimidation, we''re actually trying to kill you. Keep your elbow stretched Bert, steadies the hand."


    The man still hadn''t taken his shot. There was a hesitation in him.


    "You vouldn''t kill me. Zhat vould be zhe emotional reaction, vhile you are a rational man."


    Scratch tapped his foot. "You fell in love with the fake fairy form of a wrinkly tart, who is simultaneously to old *and* too young for you." He showed the talisman that he now wore around his neck.


    "You conspired to steal from me, destroy my home, and developed a curse capable of killing me. And now you''re saying it''s rational to keep you alive? Like I can trust you? Like that doesn''t make me look weak?"


    A silence hung between them.


    "I''ve got kids Fleder, I want to teach them the right lessons. Like: don''t try to rat on daddy or you''re getting skewered on the rack."


    "Regardless, you must not kill me, Scratch. For good reason."


    Scratch looked up in disbelief at Bert, who was still waiting to hear the reason. "You do realize he''s just stalling."


    "I am not your subject, baronet Scratch." Noss Fleder said. "Ve both serve zhe Ravenous Lich."


    "Yeah. So it''s the lich you''ve betrayed, that doesn''t help your chances at survival."


    "Soon, vord vill come for you to release me."


    "I don''t think-"


    A raven landed on a crate next to him and looked at him expectantly.


    A natural bird couldn''t have made its way inside to where they were. And, indeed, its leg held a little container, being a familiar animal to the lich.


    Scratch closed his eyes as if he were in physical pain for a moment. "Hold your fire."


    He untied the message and tossed the bird a copper coin as tip.


    "This is in cursive, I can''t read this."


    "I zhall translate for you... it vill zay somezhing like zhis; Scratch, release my apprentice at once. His actions vere in line vith our interests. Signed, Ritter."


    "He''s right, it does say that." Bert said, bend into a 150 degree angle to read over his shoulder. "The lich proclaims the vampire was acting on his direct orders. It was a double-cross."


    Scratch looked up with genuine venom in his eyes. "You''re worse then the chicks."


    <hr>


    Noss was released from target practice and sat at the kitchen table.


    More out of spite than genuine security risk, he was flanked by two trolls, ready to smash him into paste at the slightest provocation.


    There was a small council of what Scratch would call ministers convened there to hear about it.


    The men and women of the Promise had developed a sense of entitlement to insight and say in important matters of the state. Safety and luxury had made citizens of them.


    In this case, it allowed Scratch to sulk at the back of the crowd, rocking his chair on two legs and glaring at the vampire.


    -


    Nevertheless, Noss addressed him personally from the other end of the table. "Vhen you first speculated zhat my master may be acting against zhe interest of Pinchin, I feared it to be a gentle lie for my pride. So I took it upon myself to test it."


    "Uh-huh."


    "However, I could not ask him directly. As zhe evil god sees zhrough the senses of all skeletal undead."


    The vampire leaned in to insert a bit of tension into his story.


    "I devised a plan."


    "You can not engage in secret tests of character to key allies," Lydia said, slamming her hands on the oaken surface, "not without informing the family."


    He waved away her concern. "If zhe Ravenous Lich has not taught me zhis, he has taught me nozhing: magic belongs to everybody. Ve, dark sorcerers, defy zhe restrictions of zhe gods. Ve make our own spells as zhe need arises."


    "I didn''t know dark sorcerers had their principles," Alpheba whispered next to Scratch.


    "All beings have a virtuous narrative for their lives," Youthere said in turn, "it is a weakness of mortals to be unable to face their own evil." He placed his hand on Scratch''s shoulder.


    "In zhat teaching," the vampire continued, "he vould continually impress upon me, vhenever I vould voice my vish zhat zhere vas a spell to do one zhing or another: ''Noss Fleder, write it yourself zhen.''"


    Barbara threw up her hands in a slightly offended manner. "What does that have to do with anything?"


    "Had zhe lich been steadfast in zhe ambition to tame zhe second segment, zhere vould have been no reason to veer away from zhis motto. However, vhen I wrote to him about zhe danger zhat zhe fey represent, he suggested ve rely on zhe moon goddess."


    "Which would sabotage his own ambitions."


    "It vas a vay for zhe lich to communicate zhat zhe second segment is not my true assignment here, vithout zhe god of death and undeath knowing."


    Scratch''s stool clapped against the stone as he put it back on four legs. "But you went along with it anyway."


    Noss shrugged. "A token effort. My primary aim vere to keep an eye on Lacrima. If it isn''t zhe shards zhat I am here to observe, it must be zhe people."


    "Noss..." Lydia sighed, "this hurts us. This hurts our trust in you. The lich may have ordered us not to execute you, but that doesn''t mean we can simply return to the way things were before."


    "Yeah." Barbara piped up. "You were involved in a plot against the Promise, there''s no going back from that."


    "Managgia. What are you even saying? I count three traitors to the city that have walked unpunished." Aimone spat an actual glob of saliva on the cavern floor. "Goblin mother, you cannot claim to have always been an ally either, can you?"


    Barbara tucked in her lips and looked away.


    "It seems to me that mutiny is nothing more than a rite of passage in this community." He said, and leaned back.


    "That''s not true," Lydia insisted, "there must be some recompense. Scratch?"


    Scratch had buried his face in his hands.


    Suddenly, he popped it out again. "Fine." He said.


    "Scratch?"


    "If this is how we do things at Ritter''s Promise, that''s fiiiine by me. But we''re not quitting half-way."


    Noss'' relaxed demeanor crack slightly. "Eh?"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "It''s under your ruse that I started up with the goddess, and now I''ve made an enemy. So as far as I''m concerned, your mission is not over. Lacrima thinks you''re her partner in crime? Keep up that lie.


    I want to get more out of her and her goddess."


    "Then that means..."


    "You''ll be sharing a cell."


    -


    It didn''t take long after the decision was taken before Noss Fleder was physically picked up and taken away.


    It seemed as if the Baronet had completely forgotten about the politicians and influencers that had attended the meeting, as they were left behind in the damp underground room without so much as a goodbye.


    Barbara turned to Second. "What do you think?"


    "What?"


    "You must have some opinion on the vampire. What do you think?"


    "Well I think... maybe he''s called a ''wampire'' and we''ve all learned to say it wrong just because he talks weird."


    <hr>


    Lydia tugged on Scratch''s collar as they made their way towards the prison cells. "Aimone is right. Not a soul in the Promise or in any of the client cities pays the slightest heed to our authority. But there is something that can be done about it."


    "You''ve got your shadow bandits, don''t you?"


    "Policing can only do so much, what we need is rule of law. A court-


    "No." He insisted. "I''m not signing off on that. I don''t want it."


    A slight growl escaped from the back of her throat. "Why not?"


    "Moral principle."


    "You don''t have moral principles..." she paused, "...do you?"


    "I am principled about being unprincipled, and I like to keep it that way." He softened and went on to search for a more diplomatic way to get across his point. "Lyds... don''t you think it''s unnatural?"


    "What?"


    "All of it. The rules, the motto''s, the little- when they read you your rights and everything- it''s not human, it''s false. It''s the processed-meat-conglomerated-into-a-block-of-pink-sludge of human organization. I don''t want it. I want people to mutiny, I want them to fight each other, steal, and... renegotiate, and look at for what''s best for them. That''s how people are *supposed* to act.."


    "I don''t understand. Don''t you want our empire to stay loyal to us?"


    "We don''t own the bandit cities, Lydia, we don''t own most of the Promise. And we''re better off for it. An empire can crumble, chaos can''t." He tapped the side of his head as if he had just said something profound.


    "What?"


    She couldn''t inquire further, because they had arrived at the prison complex.


    -


    At one point, the holding cell had been a single room next to the town gate. But as the Promise had swollen with inhabitants and visitors a new solution was necessary.


    It weren''t an option to house prisoners of the public facing regime in the dungeon, so the venue was a repurposed warehouse with thin wooden interior walls and bars to make cells.


    "Lacrima has a place in the underground harbor, if she will only play ball." Scratch whispered in Noss'' ear. "Get her to agree before she squeals on the whole operation."


    Once they were let in, the constable and adventurers'' guildmaster came into view. They were discussing something in-between the opposite rows of cells but quickly stopped as they saw the large troll come in.


    The troll made room for Noss, Scratch, Lydia, and Alpheba to enter before him. And the guildmaster turned to address them.


    "You''ve decided to bring in the bandit witch, then?"


    "Not necessarily." Scratch said.


    Constable Harkness ejected air through his nose. "Next week. The duke''s envoy will arrive. To pick up prisoners of war. I want Lacrima on that convoy."


    "I wish to speak to my mistress." Alpheba announced.


    "Right now is visiting hours," Scratch said, "we''re here to observe, so could you give the girl some privacy?"


    "We''re not going anywhere." The constable said.


    "You hold visiting hours at midnight?" The guildmaster added.


    "Any hour in which there''s visiting is a visiting hour."


    "Let us all calm down." There had been no real rising of tension, but Lydia sprang in to cool things down anyway. "The envoy does not arrive until next week, we can delay that decision. For now, we have another prisoner to drop off."


    -


    "Are you fine, master?" Alpheba asked the witch.


    "Alpheba, how are you my dear?" she side-glanced the constable, "you are still on old Lacrima''s side, aren''t you?"


    "You are the witch''s apprentice?" Constable Harkness leaned in. "You do not need to hide from the law. We know all children at the orphanage were exposed to control magic. You were a minor. You are not held accountable."


    "We do need to have her answer some questions regarding the witch''s... designs." The guildmaster suggested.


    "Of course."


    "Don''t tell them anything, dearie. You are my apprentice. It wouldn''t be fair to your new friends would it? If they get caught up in the crossfire."


    The constable almost pushed Alpheba aside. "What friends? Answer me. Alpheba. Know that you are sure to lose citizenship if you continue to serve this rogue witch. It would be the end of your prospects."


    Alpheba gently reached out and touched Lacrima''s hand. "Miss Lacrima, as a prospective witch, I am not loyal to you... but to the goddess."


    This satisfied both parties and she turned away.


    -


    "You must give this Alpheba girl leave to answer questions in my office." Constable Harkness demanded.


    Scratch didn''t answer him. "Where do all these prisoners come from? I didn''t think we''d fill up all the cells in a million years."


    "These are minor nobility from Blurich. They''ve been attacking the forest in siege armor for weeks. We have to take them prisoner."


    "Can''t you just eat them?"


    She shot him a hateful look.


    "We have reason to believe Lacrima''s plans may be further reaching than we had ever anticipated." Harkness continued.


    "How many damned siege armor attacks could there have been? How did this happen?"


    "Baronet. Listen to me."


    "Constable." Scratch looked the man in the eyes. "Why do I have so many youths in my drunk tank?"


    "...It seems that. Your city may have become symbolically significant. In this war."


    "Blurich is the home country of the church, after all." The guildmaster reminded them.


    "You''re kidding."


    "Why would I joke about something like this?" She turned away from him as Quiet come hobbling in his little guild uniform. He had brought her her staff.


    "If Reddington loses this war," she continued, "the disbanding of the Promise will undoubtedly be among the concessions the king will have to make. If that happens, all our livelihoods will be destroyed. However, the urgency among Blurich may be lessened with the elimination of internationally condemned individuals."


    The staff found its way pointing at Lacrima.


    But constable Harkness pushed it away. "These people will be judged by a court of law, Puella."


    "I am more condemned by the church than she is," Scratch said, "you wouldn''t turn that thing on me, would you?"


    For a second it seemed like she would, but Lydia growled softly at her.


    "Chill out, baby," Scratched sussed, "the woman is stressed out about her business. There''s no adventurers coming in ever since the war began, are there?"


    "That''s no reason to threaten a baronet," the constable said sternly. "Adventurers'' guild staff need reminding that they simply peasants from time to time. Perhaps a few days in a cell..."


    "Stand down constable. We''re all on the same side here."


    "Actually..." Quiet piped up. "I had this idea..."


    "Baronet," Harkness insisted, "we do nee-"


    "Shush. What is it Quiet?"


    <hr>


    "A taxi service, basically."


    "What?"


    Scratch sighed. Barbara wasn''t being overly receptive, he had antagonized and belittled her ambitions too much.


    She diverted her attention away from him, manning the underground shop, and wasn''t extending the courtesy of interpreting modern lingo from context anymore.


    "We''ll need some of the wagons and routes to ferry adventurers back and forth. Most of them live in the surrounding farmsteads anyway."


    She didn''t look at him as she counted her money. "Smuggling is the only way to supply Lucky with the ingredients for sweet crimson. It''s the thieves'' guild primary lifeline."


    "You''ve got the circle now, don''t you?"


    She didn''t answer, so he tried it from a different angle.


    "Listen... it was Quiet''s idea. He wants to impress the adventurer lady, we''re all rooting for him, it''s a whole thing."


    "..."


    "You want the adventurers'' guild on our side, don''t you?"


    "If you want to make a request, take it up with my business partner."


    "Partner?"


    "Second is at the perch. He''s the overseer for the market."


    -


    Scratch''s younger brother sat on the elevated platform that connected the market to the wooden walkways.


    Officially, he was the overseer for the marketplace. Making sure the people were peaceful and the structures stable.


    In a more real sense, he was employed as diplomat, the link between the thieves'' guild and the dungeon master. When they weren''t on speaking terms, they could talk through him.


    So he kept half an eye on the proceedings below, and most of his attention on a book of outlines he had received. A children''s toy that could be colored in using crayons. He only had three colors however, and one of them was a piece of charcoal.


    "Yer not s''posed to sell things upstairs, it should be through the market." He said without looking up, as soon as he heard Scratch climb onto his plane.


    "What''re talking about? You mean me selling mortgage pass-throughs and stakes into bandit outfits at the mansion? That''s banking stuff."


    "Barbara says if you''re selling to outsiders it should go through here." He looked up. "And I said the people you appoint to advise are also a product. Because they pay you for it and they only do it because of the guarantee that you will pay their debts if they fail."


    "Yeah... insurance."


    "Yeah."


    "You know Second, we need to provide those financial products to bandit cities can grow. The mortgage is upfront money so they can build houses, the stakes are upfront money so they can buy equipment and connections for a syndicate, and the insurance is risk spreading so they will dare to do it. I resell the ownership of these things so we have enough money to do it in every province of the country."


    "You can resell them here." Second returned to his coloring book.


    "What have you got there?"


    "It''s a giant fighting goblins. But I''m changing it so that the goblins are winning."


    The black lines in the book depicted what could only be a siege harness tearing apart a goblin nest and freeing some sort of princess in a cage. Second had added charcoal spears and ropes to restrain the mechanical menace.


    "You know what? Sure. I guess I''ll- fucking- put a box office here. But I can''t negotiate a contract over the counter, I''ll need space for a back office."


    "There''s space."


    "And tell Barbara that the schedule for the cargo transport is changing. We''re sharing the road now."


    <hr>


    The general of Reddington''s royal army paced agitatedly through the palace.


    He should have known the king would be too busy to receive him. His highness should bitter little regard for the war.


    ''Sport for aristocrats'' he called. It well this sport had high stakes and they were on the losing team!


    "Tell me you have good news," he demanded of the war oracle upon entering the war room.


    "I have good news..."


    "Ah, thank the gods."


    "...if you insist that I lie."


    The general threw his hat at him.


    "I had advised you before to focus on reducing losses rather than gaining territory, that recommendation still can not be withdrawn. Not while the enemy continues to field such superior siege harnesses." The oracle said.


    He nodded. "Has the god of war revealed the secret to their power yet?"


    "They have found a way to cultivate altered forma lines. Their siege smith, Stahl, is called the Aster hero. One of those extraordinary individuals."


    "A hero... then there is no hope of shifting the tide of war. Not with lady Dichtershire in the adventurers'' guild."


    "Indeed. The respective royals will likely agree to end the war before the winter solstice, so it will not interfere with their shared celebration. All we can do is ensure Blurich has taken as little territory as possible by then so the state will not be forced to redraw the border too unfavorably."


    "He has refused to see me on the matter. ''You''re a perfectly capable chess player, Hornsby, I''m sure you know what''s best''."


    The oracle chortled, despite himself, "he said that?"


    "Our liege has more to say about our profession, which I shan''t repeat here. We are morose enough as is, I''d say."


    The oracle put both hands together and tapped his lips with outstretched index fingers. "If those are the king''s words, we may be able to employ certain... unconventional elements."


    The general raised an eyebrow. "Go on."


    "I have been unwilling to raise this point in our meetings, with the king''s man gurgling at us, but we do have a secret weapon."


    "I have not heard about this?"


    The oracle produced a small scrying eye. A glass lens with the magical property to show far-off images.


    The general had seen it taken out before. Supposedly, only the witch that had created it could alter the subject of the scrying spell.


    "Another extraordinary. This child was captured trying to cross the border during wartime, however she does not seem to be loyal to the Blurich army." The oracle said.


    He looked into the glass. Somewhere inside a dark prison, wrapped in sealing chains from head to toe, sat a tiny war criminal. "....This is an infant."


    "She possesses unimaginable power over fire, capable of incinerating three platoons before she were captured. I have no doubt her power could make the difference for our efforts, but she will ask for something in return."


    "What-"


    "Watcher." A voice came from the scrying eye. "I can see thee, as thee can see me. If you be my captor, I demand to be released, so that I may exact my judgment upon this world."


    The general recoiled as wisps of fire began to form around the magical lens. "How is this possible?"


    "She must be using some sort of sympathetic magic to cast through her image..." the oracle panicked slightly as he tried to close the eye.


    "I shall not be complicit in the deaths of god-fearing men!" She roared. "It is you, and the corruption you protect that shall know the goddess'' judgment."


    As soon as the item clamped shut, the wisps disappeared.


    "Well... a mad dog. But mad dogs can be useful, when pointed in the right direction."


    "The king would never approve of fielding such an unstable individual."


    "Aye, but he has delegated all judgment to yourself."


    They looked at each other.


    "Let us not."


    "Indeed."


    <hr>


    Scrying Eye


    A scrying eye is a controlled magic item. It may only be used by military officials.


    It is produced via witch magic and has the ability to show an subject, or what that subject is seeing, for as long as it has an item inside to link it to that subject.


    Adventurers may sometimes be granted minor scrying eyes as part of a special mission request. If they do, it is vital that such an item is returned as soon as possible after the quest parameters are completed. Unsanctioned ownership of a scrying eye is a serious offense.

 Fast Friends

    "Ha, Morza. Good to see a familiar face."


    Hilda Morz didn''t look up. She banged her head against the flimsy wall she was leaning against and groaned.


    She recognized the voice. Heinz Stuttel was a provincial noble from the same military college that had somehow picked up the idea that they were friends.


    "It''s me Heinz. From Monshauser."


    "Yes. Stuttel. Hi."


    "Talk about falling on hard times, huh?" He continued with relentless spirit. "Rest assured that *I* will not think any different of you."


    Her eyes shot open. "What did you say?"


    "I just mean... to me you will always be the star pilot of the academy. The best out of all of us."


    "...Okay."


    "Even after these creatures have gotten their hands on you."


    Instead of cussing, she sputtered out a sentence in high-pitched guttural utterances, explicative in spirit if not nature. "What. Do you mean. By that?"


    "... Your worth as a noblewoman has not been diminished by having to pop out a couple of trolls''-"


    "Hilda, stop!" The girl in her cell held her back from kicking down the divider. "If ve break down zhe prison vho knows vhat our captors vill do to us."


    "SAY THAT TO MY FACE HINTERW?LDER. HOW DARE YOU?!"


    "I apologize. It must have been very traumatic."


    "Behave." A troll prodded at her with a spear, driving her backwards into her cell and cooling the argument.


    Tensions were rising, and they would be grateful when Reddington were ready to deliver them back home. Despite the disgrace that was waiting for them returning as losers.


    -


    Seeing the troll back away from there cell and towards the feuding Blurichans, Noss straightened his jacket and fixed his hair.


    If Scratch stood by his word, which he often did when it did not cost him anything, he would not be released until Lacrima could be persuaded to relinquish plans for the witchwood.


    For that he would need to continue playing the role of ally for a bit.


    "Ve might be extradited vith zhese invaders if ve stay in here. Zhould ve take Scratch''s offer und give up on zhe fairy grove?"


    Lacrima hadn''t resorted yet to lowered herself on the floor. But she was an old woman and had steadied herself in the corner to preserve her energy. All in all, her regular dignity was compromised.


    "You may return to him, dearie, but I can not turn my back on the goddess."


    He cringed at her falsely sweet tone, it was the facade she showed outsiders. "Lacrima, please. I am not your enemy. How vill zhe goddess be helped by zhis?"


    "Well... she certainly won''t be helped by agreeing to sit out the blood moon, will she?"


    He mulled it over. He had spend years now among liars, negotiators, and all manner of sophists at Scratch''s Promise. Surely some of it had to have rubbed off on him.


    The witch was clearly unhappy to face life imprisonment or execution at the hands of the state. All he needed was a decently plausible argument for her to justify bending out.


    "Ve can ask her."


    "What did you say?"


    "If zhe baronet releases you from zhis prison, you may converse vith zhe moon goddess at her altar again. Vhereas... if ve are shipped off, ve may never get zhe chance to hear her vill."


    Lacrima let herself be taken along a seductive train of thought, but then shook out of it. "No."


    "Consider zhis... zhere may still be zhings to be done even after zhe bloodmoon. Ve vill be near zhe vitchvood at least. Perhaps ve could lay zhe groundvork for zhe following bloodmoon."


    She raised an eyebrow.  "Groundvork? What do you mean groundwork?"


    "An institution. A grand prophecy. If you vere to return to being the baronet''s magic adviser, you vould have zhe influence to set it in Promise law zhat zhe next bloodmoon, zhe ritual is respected."


    "And you think that Scratch will agree to that?"


    He threw up his hands. "Of course! A goblin does not think ahead a zhousand years! Und furzhermore, he is desperate to have a ''minister of magic'' back in his court."


    <hr>


    "Congratulations, you''re now, officially, our new minister of magic."


    Bert looked uncomfortable in his new getup. The goblins had dossed him out in furs, metal greaves, and a witch''s hat. "But I don''t know that much magic."


    Lydia shook her head. "Aimone is our most knowledgeable crystal grafter. If you really need an expert, he would be the most suited."


    Scratch tutted. "Aimone has already been assigned waterworks."


    "Alpheba? The demon."


    He looked at her. "Youthere? Absolutely not. This is a client-facing job, the minister is supposed to help the colonies with magic related problems. I need someone that can talk to the public."


    "But I was only ever a rank E mage-" Bert complained.


    "You''re self-depricating again," Scratch barked, "I ordered you to cut that out."


    "S-sorry."


    "In this world, you take the opportunities handed to you, got that? Learn on the job if you have to, fake it till you make it."


    "I believe what the baronet is trying to say..." Lydia said gently, "is that you are not expected to provide the utmost expertise in all matters of ritual and sorcery, only to project an image of wisdom for the barony''s peace of mind."


    "You''ve got-" Scratch paused to look at Lydia, briefly wondrous at her occasional bursts of eloquence, "you''ve got the ability to grow a beard." He said to Bert, "and that makes you more qualified than any other candidate I have in my back pocket."


    "I don''t have to wear this everywhere I go, do I?" He complained.


    "Discuss it with my brother Fat here." Fat waved from the corner, it was he who had sown the ostentatious fur and metal wizarding uniform. "He''s a senior at the tree home colony, they''ve got a tailoring outfit going."


    Bert had already begun to remove the various paraphernalia that were on his body. "I came here because I thought that, maybe, there were some spells I could teach you, that you might need as leader."


    Scratch and Lydia looked at each other.


    "He is resolved in the duties of his office already," she said approvingly.


    "Say it with some authority then." Scratch demanded.


    Bert collected himself. "Baronet. I have come to teach you counter-magic."


    <hr>


    Spells are produced via the controlled release of mana.


    The magic held in the user''s body wants desperately to escape. By guiding its path outward with their spiritual body, the user can force it to alter reality in their favor.


    When a witch turns an unsuspecting victim into a frog, her magic pushes against his intrinsic un-frogness until it gives. The un-frogness is temporarily pushed away and as soon as it does the magic falls through into the earth, towards the abyss, and hell thereafter.


    Even a spell as simple as ''candle light'' works by blasting the fundamental building blocks of reality with a precise arrangement of magic, so that darkness is transformed into light.


    A goblin can not cast ''candle light'', it has no spiritual body. Its form is exceedingly simple, for it possess close to no divinity and with that very little claim to a form at all.


    "Yet," Bert claimed, "there is something you can do with mana after all. You can perceive magic due to Guth''s blessing, correct?"


    "For now." Scratch commented, he had taken the man deeper into the dungeon, to hide their dealings from the surface.


    Bert nodded. "Not many creatures can. It means you can see the spell circles of a spell before they''re completely cast." To demonstrate, he held up his hand and produced a magical formation. A little circle of intangible lines that moved and slid over each other like a mechanism falling into place. "You may not be able to produce something this complicated yourself, but you can alter those of others before they''re done casting. Come on, point your want at it."


    The goblin held up the fancy spellcasting implement and stuck it into the magical circle.


    "Oh, you- don''t need to get so close, one can project mana."


    "Shush, I''m trying to aim."


    The demonic parasite on Scratch arm began to churn and slosh, taking blood in exchange for mana, and the spell began to change shape and fall apart. Suddenly it received a burst of energy and resolved.


    *Poof*


    A cloud of blue smoke exploded between them, more frightening and dangerous, and hardly that.


    "Agh!" Scratch waved away the luminous gas. "What kind of spell is that?"


    "It was a metal cleaning spell, but you completely changed the pattern and activated it."


    He grabbed at his shoulder, he had lost a lot of blood and the lapse in concentration had allowed the manabelt to inject some of its poison.


    "It will cost less mana if you can target a crucial aspect of the spell specifically. Change its directory, or keep it from resolving."


    "And that''s a viable combat strategy, is it?"


    Bert moved his mouth to the side, "well it''s better to know it than not. What if you''re snuck up on with a summoned arrow?"


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Scratch would be snuck upon with a lethal spell less than a week later, by that time Lacrima had already been reinstated, and he did not think to use Bert''s technique.


    <hr>


    The assassination attempt took place within the outskirts of the favored territory.


    There was a crossroads at which adventurers were able to consult a little station for directions. It hadn''t seen much traffick recently, but ever since the Promise had begun provide free transportation to visiting adventurers, it had begun to crowd and bunch up.


    The hobgoblins had escorted in a wagon load of precious metal and gems, meant to entice fortune-seeking warriors to join an excursion, and Scratch sat on top of it, keeping watch of the valuables.


    They were already spoiled for choice, with how many groups came to inquire about the impromptu contract, when suddenly a young woman split from her party and began to cast a high-level spell.


    "Benesant''s blinding fury: holy axe of the go-" the magic circles were already forming, but she was interrupted by a whip of metal blades wrapping around her leg and forcing her to the ground.


    The metal shot back and clicked together into Ada''s extending blade. She then raised her foot and kicked the caster''s face into the trampled dirt.


    "Jesus, learn to cast with speaking out loud first." Scratch scoffed.


    "If she''d used a quicker, less powerful spell, you''d be dead." Ada commented.


    "Your grace!" The crowd had dispersed from where the scuffle had taken place, but a small diverse contingent rushed in. "Please forgive Amelie, it must be a misunderstanding, she-"


    "She can speak for herself."


    The hobgoblins picked the woman up, not restraining her too tightly but with an implicit threat of death.


    "He''s an enemy of the gods..." She appealed to her party members, "we have to kill him. Before he brings back the age of the goblin king. Guys!"


    "Amelia... did you want us to come here because you had an eye on the baronet the whole time?"


    "These are noble goblins Amelia."


    "Listen," Scratch threw up his hands. "I don''t feel like dragging you along as a prisoner until we make our way all the way back to the Promise. Let''s just say you''re sorry and you won''t do it again and we can skip over this."


    "Dad." Ada urged. But it was on deaf ears.


    "Come on then, say it."


    "I''m sorry... I won''t do it again."


    The hobgoblins dropped her to seethe on the road, and the rest of the party fell into a cacophony of grateful platitudes.


    But when the wagon continued on and left the crossroads behind, the attacker tried again. Half-restrained by her own allies she raised her staff and summoned a volley of arrows. Elemental light.


    This time, a cursed bolt from Barbara''s crossbow ended the attack, striking her in the throat and killing her instantly.


    "Do you realize how lucky you are that you survived that?" She complained. "Lydia is right, you *are* way too lenient."


    "You overestimate our goodwill in the continent, Barbara. We aren''t even supposed to be here right now." He whistled. "Besides, things worked out."


    "Yes, because I was there."


    "Thanks!"


    She grumbled, he would often throw these curve balls at her if he wanted to shut her up. It jumbled her train of thought.


    But they weren''t there to discuss personal security or justice. They were there because of the dissidents.


    -


    "What''s the game?" One of the adventurers asked.


    "Wolf." Barbara told him.


    "Just regular wolves?"


    "These are... bigger than usual."


    "Legend has it..." Scratch orated with broad gestures, "...that a horrifying beast roams the depths of these woods. It''s roar, *thunder*! It''s claws, *lightning*! And all the poor wargs, that are kin to the goblins here, are being swept up by its power, and led astray from society. It''s a scourge! And it has found us. We have pooled our greatest treasures to find heroes that may once and for all end this beast of myth."


    One girl laughed and the others held suppressed smiles. "Don''t worry, we''ll find out what kind of wolf is stealing your wargs."


    Barbara looked away into the nothing beside the road. They knew very well what sort of animal they were dealing with, however folksy Scratch pretended to be about it. The reason they had decided to recruit on the road, rather than go through the adventurers'' guild, was to avoid having to explain how so many storm wolves had appeared in their territory.


    It was already drizzling, a sign that they were getting closer.


    <hr>


    The trees were stripped of their thinner branches where the storm wolves roamed. Their roots were exposed by the constant erosion of heavy rain.


    A desolate ruin, once a goblin colony but overgrown with the roots of a poison ent, lay in the center.


    Perched on top of the weathered brick, like a guardian deity for some ancient forgotten civilization, sat the pack leader. A giant wolf, with wisps of steam emanating from his fur.


    He watched on lazily as the human adventurers tried to make their way through the muddy, uneven territory towards him, accosted by wind wolves and his brothers.


    These were advanced combatants, users of magic and magical weapons, but they were not in their element.


    Through the thinned out foliage, the pack leader noticed a glimmer of silver. The promise of reward that the dungeon master used to motivate these soldiers of fortune.


    He slowly lowered himself to the ground, hunched up his hind legs, and then... jumped.


    The force blew apart the treeline and he flew through the air, over the ruins, over the petty fighting, right in front of the hobgoblins'' wagon.


    The subhumans formed a defensive line, but he swiped them away with his paw. As he stood, a giant next to his unevolved cousins, he was on eye level with the Scratch, sitting on top of the wagon.


    "Master of the dungeon." He growled.


    "Wendy the third." He replied in the human tongue, using a human given name, but they understood each other.


    "You''ve come to enslave us once again."


    "We''ve just come to put down an overgrown mutt." The goblin had produced some sort of magical weapon from his sleeve, but even with his massive frame, the storm wolf was to quick for his eye and circled behind him.


    "It was not by my choice that I became such. The dungeon has evolved me, do you know why?"


    "It''s a gift, it''s what your great grandmother joined us for. Stay still."


    "It''s a curse!" The wolf put his paws on the top of the weapon and easily tipped it over, knocking Scratch to the muddy ground and the wind out of his lungs.


    The horses finally broke free from their reigns and bolted. The hobgoblins poked him with their weapons some more, but he send them flying with a gust of wind, punching a hole into the rain.


    "The beast god Noruk is the source of our strength, not this wyrm of shadow that you wield! The dungeon subverts our strength, turns it into raw **calamity**!" As he barked the word in his barking tongue, he emphasized it with a thunderclap of violent air, toppling the coming defenders over again. "I alone among my brothers possessed potential to grow beyond the absolute floor of our storm wolf forms, I alone could develop non-combat abilities. Such as the ability to withstand your dungeon''s vile dreams! That occupy our every thought like burrowing lice!"


    He stood with his front paws on the toppled wagon now, his enormous head bend over the obstacle to deliver his teeth towards their fleshy destination.


    "I alone could find the voice of the beast god, I alon-"


    Scratch kicked the roof of the wagon, and its side opened up, facing the wolf''s vulnerable underbelly.


    There was a brief ringing noise and then a shiny spear shot out, a solid pike as thick as a troll''s arm as several times too long to have ever fit in the tiny vehicle.


    The pack leader moved its jaws a legs a bit and then died, the water finally seeping into his coat and drenching his fur.


    Scratch stood up and put a cigar in his mouth. "If you''re gonna kill, kill. Don''t talk."


    -


    After a few moments the pike disappeared, (it had been elemental metal maintained by magic,) and the storm wolf fell to the earth.


    "What took you so long?" Scratch complained.


    "It kicked us over, what were we supposed to do?" Barbara emerged furiously from the vehicle.


    "Zhe energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladder is a sensitive construct." Noss said from within.


    "You can come out, it''s overcast." Barbara suggested.


    "Clouds can break, no zhank you."


    But the clouds didn''t break. If anything, the rain became more intense as the remaining storm wolves mourned their leader.


    I should have evolved him further, Cyclophan said, but before I realized, he had already escaped my grasp.


    Can we get the others back?


    Perhaps, if you can get them to go near the dungeon again I can take control of their minds again.


    Through their dreams?


    Yes.


    The adventurers had come back to encircle the wagon, now seeing that the leader of the wolves was dead.


    "Did you do this?" One of them asked him.


    "I want the others alive, can you make that happen?"


    "Yes," the adventurer said, but they couldn''t.


    The dissident wolves had changed tactics and scattered, leaving no trace in the rained over mud.


    Still, there were some kills and some bounties to hand out.


    -


    The adventurers were getting more soaked by the second as they lined up to receive their silver, but the family had come prepared with boots and umbrellas.


    "Can sell you some of these for one silver piece." Barbara said.


    "That is extortionate!" One of the healers said.


    "That''s my rate, you can take it or leave it."


    "Zhat''s too much for a screen on a stick, you''re right." The vampire''s voice came from within the box. "I vouldn''t do it."


    "Too much is relative," Scratch said, "we earn money to provide comfort to our lives. How much comfort is it worth trekking all the way back in the pouring rain?"


    "I''m saving for medicine for my little sister!" The healer said indignantly.


    Barbara groaned. "Have the damn thing for free."


    "Can''t we take shelter in the wagon?" Another said.


    "The inside''s confidential," Scratch quickly replied, "and anyway it''ll be some time before we get the horses back."


    "I will happily pay you half my rewards if I could- Oh, it''s stopped."


    It had not, in fact, stopped raining. The downpour had paused because an enormous stone and metal construct had moved over them.


    Its towering form had been camouflaged by the rain and its giant steps the thunder, but with it standing over them it seemed impossible that they could have ever missed it.


    -


    What loomed over the desolate wild was hardly recognizable as a siege harness at all.


    No element was human shaped. Rather, it had the appearance of a giant crab.


    It shuffled around some of its heavy tree-like limbs to stabilize and then produced two cylinders from underneath its disc-like body. Two intricate collections of gears, with a circle of holes in the front.


    "Christ-Almighty! Duck!" Only Scratch jumped out of the way when a thundering crackle suddenly punched a series of holes in the ground, and the chests of several adventurers.


    The hobgoblins readied their weapons but Scratch urged them away. "Go, scatter. Noss, fire the weapon again."


    The vampire began to turn a crank and reconnect a series of tubes. "Vhat manner of spell vas zhat?"


    "How did it get past the outer perimeter!?" Barbara screamed.


    Meanwhile the adventurers were firing their own spells, fizzling out rather helplessly at the sturdy legs of the highly elevated machine.


    Its cylinders clicked. It was ready to fire again.


    But instead of firing, it neatly stepped out of the way of the wagon''s charging spell, piloted by a human intelligence as it was.


    Then it aimed at the adventurers again. "Adventurers, stand down. Zhis does not concern zhe guild-"


    "Baronet, zhis is zhe last charge. Firing it now vould be a vaste of magnosilican-"


    "Fire goddammit!" Scratch produced his wand.


    As the gem at the end of Noss'' device converted the mana into a spell, he jumped right on top of it and jammed it into the forming circle.


    "Target a crucial aspect..." he recited. "Change the trajectory. There!"


    The magical spear erupted from the gem at a completely crooked angle, and directly impacted the harness'' leg.


    The Blurichan lost his balance for a moment and the machine''s fat body swung near the ground.


    "The rest of this entire bounty and a ride home for whoever, takes out that soldier!" Scratch screeched.


    There wasn''t much time to consider the offer, and anyway the foreigner had killed their friends, so when the cockpit clame close enough, a martial artist jumped up to punch a hole in it.


    The battle ended as suddenly as it had begun.


    "Did you just say ''soldier''?" A healer asked nervously.


    "Adventurers are not allowed to fight in the war, huh? I guess we just committed a collective war crime. You can consider this hush money."


    <hr>


    Noss could be convinced out of his shelter with an umbrella.


    If the sun were to break through, he would have to hunch up in a little ball behind the thick screen, but at least he''d survive for the goblins to retrieve.


    Scratch wanted him to look at the cylinders that had folded out of the machine''s underbelly.


    "This is guns." He declared.


    "It seems to be some sort of non-mana clockwork apperatus..."


    "No friend, this is guns. What the hell gives? I thought you people were all medieval and shit. Now I gotta deal with giant robots and machine guns? We''re just gonna get carpet bombed at this rate."


    The vampire stopped paying attention to the goblins'' meaningless prattle. The device seemed to contain shells of explosive powder and metal slugs. An ignition in the back would send it flying to impact the enemy.


    And the revolving chamber served to rapidly ignate as many as possible in quick succession. There was a devilish intelligence to it, intricate like advanced spellcraft.


    "Zhese forma lines are... strange." He said. "Zhe enemy can somehow produce und pilot siege harnesses zhat do not follow zhe human form. It vas a good zhin zhat I vas zhere."


    "It was a good thing that Bert showed me counterspelling," Scratch corrected him. "I''ve got half a mind to put you two back in the pen and make him minister again."


    Noss eyed the poppet around his neck as he said it. Lacrima was still restricted in her magic as long as that existed.


    Barbara came out from the thick curtain of downpour. "Will you hurry it up? We''ve got the horses. I want to *leave*."


    "Is it a coincidence that we came across this soldier just as we were out with an adventuring party?" Scratch asked her.


    "Sort of? It must have been making his way towards us for miles, we were bound to run into it travelling outward like this."


    "The guildmaster certainly wouldn''t think so. So let''s keep hush-hush on it, okay?"


    "That''s what you told the sellswords, did ya?"


    "No.. I offered them money."


    The unusual developing technology of their enemy was certainly of concern to the family, but they relied on the recently-to-come-have-crawling back witch to have something to make up for.


    However, upon return, the minister of magic escaped.


    <hr>


    Storm Wolf


    Family: Beast


    Threat Level: C


    Reward: 50 silver pieces


    Storm wolves are sources of destruction and calamity, and more powerful versions of the verminous wind wolves. They possess advanced tactical ability and use it to outmaneuver militias in order to strike at the most vulnerable of the community. Their control over the wind allows them to knock over straw and wooden buildings, gaining them access to the insides. They can be recognized by their black fur, sporting stripes of cloud formations that can be mistaken for white hair.


    Storm wolves are known to lead packs of wind wolves into human communities, but will only very rarely band together with other storm wolves. A storm wolf slaying mission will therefore never rank below threat level C.


    Storm wolves possess the Pack Hunter nature, allowing them to communicate with each others to co-ordinate attacks, without being able to speak. They also possess the wind walk ability, enhancing their speed with gusts of wind. Their fur, when harvested properly, can be used to give the wearer similar abilities.

 More than ever

    "Slow down and take me through this one step at a time," the baronet spelled out, "how did this happen?"


    "Ah, yes... the witch surely hath used her magic to make me fall asleep." The hobgoblin said.


    "That''s impossible. Lacrima is cursed, she doesn''t have magic."


    "Oh... then, perhaps her vampiric ally..."


    "Yes... no. Noss was with me."


    The boy tapped his foot and tilted his head trying to exert his brain. "Ah- I... she gave me a gold coin if I wouldst let her go."


    Scratch held up his hand. "Show it to me." When his grandchild produced the currency he pocketed it.


    "Wha- Hey!"


    "It''s a fine for not coming up with a more credible lie. Now off to your room, I don''t want to see you for the next 24 hours."


    "Maenith, with me." Lydia took him by the ear before he could abscond, "Let''s figure out a real punishment."


    -


    "She''ll be coming after zhe poppet, of course." The vampire spelled out.


    They had only just come back from the encounter with the storm wolf and were taking off their boots in the mansion''s foyer.


    "I should go find her, zhen."


    Scratch looked at him like he was an idiot. "I think she saw through our little ruse, buddy. She would have looped you in otherwise."


    The vampire''s boot went flying in frustration and bounced against the wall, leaving a muddy imprint.


    "Hey, watch it."


    "You vouldn''t understand. It is a crime of all crimes zhat talented magicians fall into zhe zhrall of gods. Lacrima could have been among zhe mightiest of dark sorcerers. But she chooses insignificance in the service of a greater power."


    Not content with throwing one boot, he was now trying to rip the other apart, not making much work of it.


    "That way lies the fate of many great women..." Barbara whispered ominously to herself in the shadow of the doorway, "...trapped in the shadow of their lords."


    Scratch took a brief glance at his eyebrows and then trodded up in front of her, umbrella in hand. "Did ya get very wet, Barbs?"


    "No, used your-"


    He spun the thing around, flinging off the water droplets onto her form.


    "Ah, hey!"


    "Let''s take a moment to be grateful shall we?" He suggested, "For the rubber."


    She tried to swipe at Scratch, but he used the umbrella as a shield.


    "How you''re now trading in a rare material that can only grow in tropical zones, and the troll garden. How you''re the primary gateway for everything rare in the continent."


    She rolled her eyes, "of course Baronet. I have nothing but gratitude to you-"


    "I''m not giving you a lecture. Listen..." he threw back the umbrella and grabbed her hand, leading her into the living room where they tracked water and mud onto the carpet. Then he jumped on top of a couch to be equal with her, "I promised you that the goblins would be your gateway to wealth and power. Voila, they still are. Ask of me anything that doesn''t threaten my position, and you will have it. That is still our deal. Nobody is stifling you just because I said no to one thing." Suddenly, he raised his voice to sing. "You have my heart, and we''ll never be worlds apart. Maybe in magazines, but you''ll still be my star." He handed her the umbrella.


    She took it. "You haven''t stopped singing that song since you got this thing, half of it is nonsense words."


    Noss came into the room after them. "Zhis shoe, vhat is it made of?"


    "You only just noticed, vulcanized rubber. Just like the umbrella canopy."


    "You''ve seen the foreign trees down below the lion''s head" Barbara sighed, folding it up, "they''ve been rotating crops for years trying to prep the ground for exotic plant life."


    "Zhis zhing... it forces itself back into shape, but zhe shape is not a natural one. It''s one you designed."


    "Yeah, vulcanized." Scratch lowered himself on the couch. "Basically, heat it up with some sulfur and powders. It won''t pull back if you mold it while it''s liquid, and when it cools down it settles in that shape."


    "Zhen, it forgets its shape."


    "I guess? There''s probably a particle physics way to explain it, the monomers break loose and solidify in a new polymer or something..."


    Without a word, Fleder stormed out of the room.


    "What was all that about?" Scratch asked Barbara.


    She shrugged.


    "Whatever happens, Lacrima can not do anything as long as I have this." He flashed the poppet around his neck. "So don''t let anyone near me for a while, okay? She''ll probably send someone."


    <hr>


    Underneath the dragon cage lay a thin and narrow passage towards the dungeon core.


    The curved spines of the shard had slowly inched their way through the rock bed over the years, carving a path of darkness like the maw of some hungry beast.


    And at the very end... it opened up into the abyss.


    The endless black had swallowed all winds and left the air a still void. Cyclophan''s core was suspended just below the opening, having become weightless, and the world around him was pure silence. A nothing, a void.


    Protected by miles and miles of dungeon and a raging dragon, he could be confident in the safety of his vessel. It was a secure cocoon from which to enact his will.


    But the god fracture was shook out his serenity by a small foot landing on the middle of the crystal.


    Ah! What!?


    The crystal trilled with his panic.


    "Och! Master Cyclophan, you have made it into our plane. What will you do now that your ambition is fulfilled? Will you grow fat and die?"


    The damn incubus is on my shard. Where''s Scratch? Get it off!


    "I''m sorry, what was that?" Youthere hung himself over the edge to look at the thing upside-down. "I''m afraid I cannot commune with your grace, so one will have to stick to impotent shivering."


    The shard vibrated some more, much to the demon''s delight.


    "Hee hee, you believe the abyss is your home? Not so. Before my first face, before my first name, I was there when the world was made, and you were not in it." He stuck out a leg and took a leap of faith into the emptiness. Miraculously, he found an invisible support with the ball of his foot. He crouched to lower his center of gravity. "You meaning the whole you of course, Malsidious, not the kishin. There were only four gods then. And they laid claim to the elements alone..."


    The incubus seemed briefly sunk in a contemplative mood.


    "Theirs the celestial realm, and the darkness... the darkness below belonged to the demons."


    What is this, where are you going?


    "This is not farewell, dear wyrm scale. I will return shortly to do battle with you over my master''s soul. This may serve to you as a reminder that the dark abyss that you infiltrate is not yours to rule or comprehend. That I, and even the shadow demons to which you imagine to have some connection, come and go through blackness as we please. Into the nightmare-"


    The still air made a pained gasp and the familiar was swallowed by darkness.


    -


    The path Youthere traveled was one of floating memories and forgotten dreams.


    Specters of streets, forests, and castles gave him foothold above the endless drop. Like falling into a dream, the visions bled into each other until they were a world. An ephemeral place of shifting chaos.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    The disembodied embers of light made way for shapen forms as well. Nightmares of a fleshy quality, that could cast shadows and move the air, whose eyes lit up with hateful glee.


    One such creature was there guarding a door. Or rather, she was the door. What could certainly be described as a woman, blindfolded and bound with thorny vine to sit in display, like the figurehead on a ship, against the cruel ingress.


    "Aaaaah. A seducer demands entry into the court of ruin. Low, low, loooow in the hierarchy of his family."


    He only smiled. "I come bearing a form, proof of worldly power and a contract. By rights, I have a seat at the table."


    "By rights indeeed. But not without payment."


    "The family of pain is always paid his due," he promised, and leaned in to touch his lips to her.


    As he did, he began to convulse, and puked up a living rat into her mouth.


    The door nodded, accepting the payment, and swung open. Leading him into the innards of the nightmare.


    -


    The court of ruin was a dome of concentric rings, or ring-like shadows, in a way. slowly twisting around the central platform were circles of could-be realities. Where they moved, temporarily, there was a world of pulsing flesh, the crenelations of an infinite dark castle, or some other vision of apocalypse. One after the other, they moved over and through each other in a chaotic motion, passing over the demons'' perches like brief visions.


    Sounds came from all around. Shrieking, speaking, music. These were the demons of the seven families that had descended into the nightmare to appeal to the prime evil.


    Youthere slunk past the edge of a ring, hiding in the shadows of the twisting court and keeping a venerative eye on the arch-devil inside.


    He found his seat.


    "So then, a little brother demands a place at our table," a succubus purred from her alcove, "what business for the incubus who spreads our stolen power?"


    "My business is only the business of evil, dear sister. And such is the business of all our family, shall they withhold their claws and teeth?"


    Graciously, the other demons of temptation did not attempt to maim him, but let him nestle into the moving stone to sit among them as an ambassador to one of the seven families.


    -


    Eventually, the prime evil emerged from underneath the central platform, silencing the cacophonous pandemonium with only a breath.


    He was a small, humanoid creature, with a skull two sizes to large and tiny black eyes two sizes to small that sat sunk all the way back in the socket.


    "The prime evil has emerged," he announced, with a creaky voice, "this day, its name and form is borne by annihilation."


    "The same family has had the prime evil elected from its rank for six millenia." The succubus said. "What an omen that today should be different."


    "All stand in reverence," the prime evil commanded, "there will be no bias in this court. The prime evil does not discriminate and shall stand in office to promote all things wicked, unholy, and nasty, no matter what form they may take. Now come. Come! Relay thy requests of rapaciousness."


    At his invitation, the silence broke and thousands of demonic cries went out, which would have ruptured the eardrums of any mortal.


    Demands for sacrifice, accusations between families, and, as always, clamoring for a demon king.


    The prime evil raised a gnarly finger and pointed at the first demon to speak. "Names! Many names for the demon king. Who can truly claim to have found a mortal that is true evil? Advocates of the atrocious! Come forward and cast thy vote, with whom do you throw in your lot?"


    "Abyss!" The demon pointed at said. "Abyss of the Reaper of Darkness. Dark sorcerer, kin-slayer, indiscriminate slaughterer. His capacity for cruelty is well known throughout the pandemonium."


    "Hear, hear." His cohorts voiced their agreement. The Reaper of Darkness had many proponents among the shadow and pain families.


    "Nay, I say, nay!" A large horned demon protested. "General Muzzad of the World''s End Army. None are more steeped in profanity than he!"


    The general had his own fans among the family of annihilation.


    After that the demons began shouting over each other again.


    "Filthy Struwel!"


    "Yanis, Emperor of Secrets!"


    "The Ungulate!"


    The prime evil threw up his hands at all of these, until Youthere stood up and spoke. "Scratch."


    A gnarly finger once again pointed, this time towards him.


    The enlarged skull slowly turned to see who he was pointing at. "Speak."


    The incubus stood up and addressed the crowd as much as he did the Prime Evil. "I ask thee, what are the qualities of a demon king?"


    "Boundless death toll!" The demons of annihilation bellowed.


    "Insidious betrayal!" The demons of shadow hissed.


    "Cruelty."


    "Madness."


    "Pride!"


    The other factions chimed in.


    The Prime Evil gestured for them to settle down.


    "Nay! I say." Youthere threw up a hand. "These are qualities of the forces of light as much as the forces of darkness! Mere instruments! True evil requires conviction. To knowingly choose damnation, that is its mark."


    "Then who is this master, that you claim desires evil more than all other candidates," The Prime Evil asked, "more than the Filthy Struwel?"


    "The Filthy Struwel follows its nature," Youthere proclaimed, "General Muzzad his ambition, and Abyss an insatiable lust for revenge. All these resort to evil, as some tool towards their own purpose. None of them, and no demon king previously, has possessed the heart of a demon!"


    "You speak heresy!" The Prime Evil roared. Then he grinned an evil grin. "As all demons should. You may continue."


    "My master Scratch, baronet under the Reddington crown, can not bear to see suffering." Youthere stated, eliciting anguished screams from the family of pain. "What''s more, he has adopted a parental role towards his people, and selflessly strives to improve their lives." As he went on, the anger among the crowds grew and they began to jeer at him. "My master has no stomach for cruelty, nor betrayal, nor pride!"


    The succubi were already tearing their long nails into his legs and the entirety of demonkind seemed poised to rip him apart, but Youthere only stood there, smugly.


    "And what I''ll say now, fellow demons, is that your rage at his goodness does not compare to his own! Because Scratch of the Promise strives every day to be more greedy and corrupt than the last!"


    "The Prime Evil commands the pandemonium to keep back, as per the ancient rules, and for the incubus to continue," the Prime Evil said, "but misspeak now, fountain of temptation, and you may very well lose your existence in this court."


    Youthere nodded. "I put to you, brothers and sisters, what is more evil? To be born wicked? Or to overcome one''s gentle instincts through sheer force of will? I have seen my master meditate, breathe to control his body, and cast his feelings in the role of intruder, all to kill empathy and honor. I have seen him kill his brother, though it broke his heart, betray his allies, though he bore them no malice, and poison a country, though he yearns for its prosperity. The ability to harness the will, to fight one''s instinct in service of a greater goal, was once thought the exclusive purview of goodness. But I tell you it''s not. Scratch has developed a morality that holds good as despicable, evil as admirable. And if you were to make him your king, that inversion can take root in all the minds of this world. That is my supplication, thank you."


    "A most iniquitous imprecation." The Prime Evil said in praise. "However... the Prime evil will reject your nominee. As your kind has proven, mere ambition does not equal alignment, when creatures of the flesh are so prone to return to their natural tendencies. No no no. Scratch of the Promise will not be demon king, not unless he can bring about the boundless death and insidious betrayal of a true villain."


    After that, there was no more discussion of demon kings. All mortal candidates fell short of the Prime Evil''s standards, despite the various advocates, and there were more pressing matters to discuss.


    For example, how to maximize the number of orphans created in the ongoing war.


    -


    Youthere snuck out of the proceedings halfway. "A true villain, naturally, a true villain... you wouldn''t know cruelty and betrayal if it bit you in the nose, all you care about is scale, arch-idiot." He muttered contemptuously.


    "No demon king has ever been appointed over the plea of one familiar," whispered a succubus that had followed him out, "spread your ambition little brother. More of our kin must know victory in evil through your master, then may he become hailed as a champion for evil."


    "Haven''t we diminished a hero of light through the goblin nation," he complained, "and stolen his strength for Eriad''s hungry vault?"


    "Ah, but that is but one hero, and he hardly suffers at all. There must be more to be done. Let us fatten all five heads of indulgence, why don''t we?"


    "Then... you are an ally?"


    "Only an ally to corruption, as are you, little brother."


    "Naturally!"


    <hr>


    A shadow crept along the candlelight that evening.


    A hand closed around Scratch''s poppet, by which Lacrima was cursed, and hurried down the stairs of the mansion.


    A familiar face in the household, so that none looked up to see it slink out of the building, onto the streets of the Promise.


    So that none looked up to take notice of the figure exiting the gate.


    -


    Lacrima''s greedy hands twitched to receive the artifact.


    Her long and wrinkly fingers extending from the shadow of the wall like the digits of a children''s nightmare.


    "You were always reckless and without wit," she said, as soon as she had grasped the thing. "How you became what you are... I have no idea."


    Being spoken to broke the mind-slave out of her enchantment. "Who-"


    "Scratch." She spat at him as she crushed the poppet against the stone.


    The baronet stood in front of her, slightly discombobulated being all of a sudden outside. "Lacrima, you got one over on me."


    "You believed me to be harmless without my ability to cast, but a witch is beyond a common war mage. I have my spirit allies... and cursed artifacts."


    "...the coin." He dug in his pocket and threw it on the ground.


    Upon closer inspection, it contained an elegant small magical construct producing the control magic she was known for.


    "You could have seen the magic twisting around its center, you were granted that gift. But you lack the prudence of a true leader. Now I shall destroy your little monster kingdom and deliver this land to Guth."


    She readied a cruel bewitchment, but he drew his wand quicker, ready to counter it. "Don''t be rash, Gingerbread, you think you can make it two miles out west? We have people that can catch up to you you know, owl or no. All I have to do is yell. So why don''t you-"


    The smug expression on her face gave him pause. Only then did he notice the hand holding his wand covered in blood.


    She nodded towards the gate behind him. "She came up to you while you were under my control. Rather poor performance for a thief... a bandit shouldn''t be so vulnerable to an unexpected stab."


    "Jesus! Barb!"


    On the ground lay Barbara, already fading out of consciousness. She was bleeding from a major femoral vein in her thigh, the ritual dagger still sticking out.


    Scratch rushed to her side trying to stelp the bleeding.


    "That should keep you occupied," the witch cackled, "really! The blade is cursed, but if you all work together you might still save her."


    "Help! A healer! Someone!" He yelled into the sleeping town.


    The witch''s cackling turned into an owl''s screeching as she flapped her cloak and it became wings.


    A pair of windwolves arrived first. "Dungeon master, what chaos has ran terror into our lives? Do we give chase to this shapechanger?"


    "There''s no time, get some help. Get one of the kids."


    "...Scratch..." Barbara said weakly.


    He lifted up her head.


    "Go..." she said, "go get her... kill the witch."


    "You''re delirious, we''ve got to save you first." He raised his voice again, "someone! Hey, hey!"


    People were coming out of their homes and shedding light on the scene.


    Barbara closed her eyes.


    <hr>


    Coin Devil


    Family: Demon


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 20 silver pieces


    The coin devil causes outsized mayhem for its threat level, as it gets at adventurers through underhanded means. Coin devils can have any human appearance, but will often appear as bandits or beggars. Adventurers should be on guard when a bandit carries with them a suspiciously large amount of money. The demonic nature of the body can be revealed via an exorcism or by using holy water.


    Coin devils possess no particular combat skill, and are weak against holy magic. Adventurers should never pocket the money one carries with it.


    Money carried by coin devils is cursed. Those that carry it close to their body become gradually overtaken by greed and distrust, causing them to turn against their comrades in an attempt to jealously guard the treasure. The effect should diminish after time away from the cursed object. Dispelling the curse on the coin will reveal it to be worthless bone shards.


    As all demons, coin devils have a chance to appear in any region corrupted by sin and dark sorcery. If the appearance of demons is unexpected, it should be reported to the adventurers'' guild.

 Madonna

    You must find out what it was doing there.


    Not now.


    Recall that I did not propose a demon of temptation to you as familiar, you went out into the abyss and found him on your own.


    I said "not now."


    "What was that?" The healer asked.


    "Nothing. Barbara is... important, to the goblins. I need you to fix this."


    The adventurer shook his head, "you were right to go beyond hobgoblins, but this is something that would require a sage. I''d try to get a hold on an elixir but... the curse will have reached her heart by sundown. There''s nothing we can do other than ease her pain."


    The baronet sunk back and covered his eyes with his hands. "I see... leave us."


    "Will I still get paid? I-"


    "Leave."


    He shuffled out.


    -


    Having sat there for a few heartbeats, staring at the dying Barbara, Scratch cleared his throat. "Just come out."


    A monstrous bat unhooked from the ceiling and landed on the dungeon floor a boy. "I should have been zhere to prevent zhis, I vere to occupied vith my research I..."


    "I wasn''t your responsibility. Tell me, can you turn her? Would that save her?"


    "... Embrace zhe goblin broodmother vith vampirism? Zhat vould prevent her from dying, but..."


    "So you can?"


    "Zhe power of an undead is determined by zhe power of zheir body. A peasant taken by zhe blood is... just a mindless zhrall. I vouldn''t really be her."


    "Hmm." Scratch brought a finger to his lips and furrowed his brow.


    "You are still considering it? Vhy?"


    He got up and began to pace around in the sanctum. "Barbara is a nuisance. Proud, moody, requires constant placating. But I had to keep her around, she''s the mother to half the dungeon... more than half. She''s not insignificant in our relationship with the colonies either, and she IS the smuggling ring. Barbara is a key to power, I need her in place to keep people in my side."


    "Is it true zhat you vere zhe hand zhat drove zhe knife?"


    "Technically... yeah. And that makes it worse."


    -


    "Scratch!" As if out of thin air, Lydia was there. "Are you alright? It was Lacrima, wasn''t it?"


    "Of course it was Lacrima, what are people saying?"


    She was inspecting his arms and all but stripping him of his clothing looking for injuries.


    He pulled away.


    "There''s a lot of talk going on. Please do go speak to the crowd, before they get anything in their heads."


    "They''re outside?"


    "At the mansion."


    He sighed. "Okay. Keep these doors closed, we need a steady mana flow to keep her fighting death as long as possible. Noss, forget about what I just said, focus on Lacrima now, we need to stop her."


    The two nodded.


    If there''s anything you can do, do it now.


    I am.


    <hr>


    "Scratch, tell me that it isn''t true. If you say it isn''t true I will believe you."


    Scratch blinked twice. "Why are you up top?"


    But Second didn''t answer he just stared deeply imploringly into his eyes.


    "...It''s not true. I didn''t kill Barbara, Lacrima did."


    "Then come tell the others that. Tell them they have to hate Lacrima, not you."


    Bashing on the doors and windows were tiny fists and child-like yelling. The goblins on the surface had already caught wind of her death and were desperate for something to lash out at.


    "Where''s my mike?"


    Second handed him the voice amplifying spellrod.


    "Ah, you had it."


    <hr>


    "What''s going on? A riot?" Aimone complained.


    They were up to their waists in goblins, swarming the streets and ripping at the plaster on the walls. They were wailing all the time.


    "The thief woman, Barbara. She is finito." His comrade said. "These are her brood."


    "Managgia. This broodmother business has a downside after all, do we do something?"


    "There''s too many!"


    The goblins were spurring each other on, and it increasingly seemed as if they were going to take out their anger on the mansion, when a voice echoed out over the town.


    "I remember..." Scratch''s raspy tone crackled through the dusty air. "I remember when my mother died."


    He was sat on the windowsill of a second story window, looking out over the boys and they paused to listen to him.


    "You know she had been a captive for a very long time at that point and she... she hadn''t been much of a presence in my life for a long time. I''m sure many of you are now wishing you had visited your mother more often, thinking that now it''s too late."


    "It''s your fault!" "You killed her!"


    "Now, anybody that has lost a loved one will try to externalize the pain and grief they have. But I must ask you all not to look outside, but inside yourselves. See grief as a wind passing through you, a foreign thing that leaves the true self un- Ah HEY!"


    He was rudely interrupted as the goblins began to throw nuts and small rocks at him. Some were old enough to had learned how to use slings and were able to legitimately threaten him. The shouting was now becoming so loud and uniform that he could barely talk over it.


    "Lacrima! Calm down, it was the witch, Lacrima!"


    The violence calmed down.


    "Quit yer yapping! The witch has been visiting here since long before any of you were born. I got too used to her, yes, that is my fault. But not anymore, tonight we go after her. In the meantime,


    Barbara is alive. And you will be given the opportunity to give your last goodbyes, in an orderly manner."


    -


    "Does this affect our machinations?" The succubus purred.


    "Nay, not in the slightest." Youthere said.


    They were standing at the back of the square, where the two-story buildings cast a concealing shadow on the early morning light.


    In their sights was the baronet, making excuses to the populace.


    "It will provide another welcome opportunity for the baronet to embrace cruelty," the incubus said, "I do so encourage him to practice his sadism, in that it may grow larger in his heart. But he is wary of me, and quick to buckle out of discomfort."


    "A weakness of spirit is also an avenue for evil." She said.


    "All the same, we must awaken his appetite for pain. Revenge is the most common path."


    They stood there a few moments more.


    "I had expected a better demagogue." She complained.


    "So you say... it may have been actions rather than words that have earned him his following."


    "Dearest little brother, we must be prudent yet expeditious. Bring me before his majesty so I may be the conduit to darker powers."


    "Yes yes, but not as you are. The Promise is still in service to a jealous kishin, do remember. A sibling of ours keeps a flock at a hot spring out west. An unpossessed dungeon. Seek shelter with her, feed, and prepare a disguise."


    "A mortal guise?"


    "The baronet is amenable to the desperate and ambitious. Mortal, yes."


    "Then... without delay!"


    They disappeared in the shadows.


    But they had not been unobserved.


    <hr>


    "The demon is planning something." Lydia told Scratch as he was packing to leave.


    "When isn''t he?"


    "It is more serious this time, he brought a someone with him."


    "Listen, we''ll talk later, okay?" He jumped up on the side of the sled and kissed her. "I''ve got to deal with the hocus pocus."


    She nodded. "The wind wolves have made a breach into her territory already, but we cannot fight off the fairy beasts forever."


    "Take us as far in as you can okay?" He said patting the metal contraption Noss Fleder had heaved onto the sled. "We just need one clear shot."


    She transformed and spoke the next words in the language of the wolves. "You are not known for caution, so I cannot bid it, but remember that you have a family. That we would like to see you return."


    He stroked her nose absent-mindedly.


    -


    The hunting party was light. No hobgoblins, no trolls. Only the small folk and their wolves racing across the muddy paths.


    The air was violent. It cut into their faces as they raced through the night. Straight through the farmlands, between the stumps of the stripped forest and over the river, into the witchwood.


    Into the witchwood.


    Which was green and verdant and more saturated in color on any day, but which had lost all color during the night, save for the penetrating redness of the moon.


    The scenery whizzing by was a blur, but what could be seen of it was not very fairy-like at all.


    The gray leaves cast stark shadows, and in the shadows crawled bug-eyed things, made up out of nakedness. Silent uncomprehending stares like owls.


    It wasn''t the revealing nature of darkness showing an other side of nature.


    "Zhe blood moon ritual is taking shape!" Noss yelled over the screaming winds. "Zhe forest is changing."


    -


    They knew where to go. Lacrima''s ritual site in the center of the dark woods.


    Closing in on their destination, the path became more densely populated with enemies.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Pixies that had shed their human shape, with many limbs and feelers like insects swarmed at the riders.


    Guardians wielding staffs with the heads of owls and capes like wings tried to block the path of the wolves.


    These would have been formidable foes in any other context, but the party wasn''t there to fight. A brief opening from a fire bolt or raised earth gave the surefooted sled dogs everything they needed to leave the creatures far behind.


    Until we need to turn back. Scratch thought to himself. Until we need to stop at all.


    <hr>


    Lacrima''s crude pagan temple had been almost completely stripped of its ritual components, but she had made it work.


    The clearing looked like the surface of the bloodmoon itself, all red. It would be mere moments before the celestial body would perfectly align with the sky-window of the temple and she stood waiting expectingly underneath.


    The effects were already taking place. The grass swelling with water underneath her feet, absorbing the qualities of a bog from her goddess'' celestial realm. It was becoming more... witch-y.


    Lacrima had already released the form of the fairy queen and returned to her painfully mortal body.


    It was now time for the fairies to adjust to her. And soon, permanently. That was the power of the red sun.


    She could already hear the invaders cut through her swelling ground before she could see them.


    Scratch, who she had used before to gain control over the witchwood, had now come to claim it for himself.


    "Well, don''t just stand there!" She said. "Defend me."


    And the ent came to life.


    -


    A lumbering splinterous tree unfurled from the nearby architecture.


    Its trunk split open to create a screaming maw and it planted a mighty wooden leg into the deforming bog land between them.


    "Zhe monster stands in zhe way!" Noss exclaimed, "I do not have line of sight."


    Scratch jumped off the sled. "Circle around, we''ll draw away the big guy."


    He had barely pronounced the plan as the ent bounded into their personal space and barreled through another sled of goblins, killing them instantly.


    "Motherf-" Scratch patted himself in search of a spellrod but he had to dive into the mud to avoid a living tree trunk intimating him with it even more closely.


    This wasn''t a poison ent, it was a man-shaped thing of dry leaveless timber. Like the nightmare envisioned by a young child, whose lively imagination makes monsters out of dead trees in a dark forest.


    It uprighted itself and moved its body to scan for the Baronet with a real and purposeful intelligence.


    Before being detected Scratch took out the flame rod and aimed it at the ent''s leg.


    A powerful flame shot towards the wood and certainly charred something, but did not seem to bother it much.


    Embers and all, the creature raised its arm to crush him.


    Typical of goblin physiology, fear gripped him only now, when it was too late to make him reconsider.


    He tried to jump away but slipped in the mud and got his leg trapped under the crushing timber.


    "Nng-" He suppressed a pained yell and curled up small in the muck to avoid further attention.


    -


    Meanwhile, Noss'' wolf had found him a position facing Lacrima.


    He pulled off the tarp from his device and exposed the crudely welded brass to the humid air.


    The giant spellrod from the wagon had received a number of rushed modifications. Newly inscribed crystal, a sturdier shell, and a whole lot more energy-ingesting-and-excreting magnosilican artificial manabladders.


    When he activated it, it did not produce a spear of elemental metal but a beam of light, a tether of magic that flailed in the air and lurched for the witch.


    Her eyes flared from the light just before it hit her and she turned to be blasted with the cruelest of magic.


    Form changing magic overtook her, but without form to enforce. A transformation into the base materials of existence, not even matter but ideas. She could feel it trying to un-create her. The moment it would break through her defenses she would be disintegrated on a conceptual level.


    "NNOOO!" In sheer panic she raked her magic across the ground, commanding the worms and insects in the grass to fly in the way of the weapon.


    A grasshopper took the brunt of it and sputtered out like a candle light.


    "Vile thing!" She cussed at the vampire and, with a more measured spell, turned him to stone. "Unholy pest!"


    The wall of insects shrunk away as her control over them faded, wolves were circling around her now.


    Lacrima raised her arms and pulled them towards herself. And as she did, the swarms and swarms of transformed monsters that had been guarding the outside of the clearing and been locked in combat with the wind wolves came rushing in.


    Pixie creatures filled the air and owlmen encircled the shrine.


    -


    Other goblins had taken over from Scratch in distracting the ent. More tactically this time.


    Long spears and rope helped them keep distance while it wildly flailed at all of them.


    Until Lydia jumped from the treeline and took on human form mid-air.


    She landed on top of the tree and held remarkable balance while unhooking a gauntlet from her belt and placing her hand inside.


    An instant later elemental lighting shot from the head of the creature all throughout its body and to the ground, instantly setting it ablaze.


    She jumped down to gain oversight, but her whole vision was filled with chaos. Corrupted pixies filling every inch of open space, pulling hair and gouging eyes. Crackling magic seeping into the earth and deforming the ground. Ents, deer, and gnomes creeping in from the dark forest beyond.


    "Where''s Scratch!?" She yelled out in panic.


    In fact she was standing on him.


    She removed her foot from his arm and crouched down next to him. "We must retreat, I have the hobgoblins following us. In a few hours..."


    "We don''t have a few hours. We barely have a few minutes." He groaned in pain.


    The ent was back, being fully engulfed in flame did not slow it down one bit and it barreled down a home''s worth of firewood on the both of them.


    Lydia spun around to kick the side of it, so the scorching death buried into the mud beside them.


    Scratch flinched.


    "We can''t fight all of this with only a mobile force, we need backup."


    "We don''t need to fight all of this. As soon as we get Noss'' beam onto Lacrima back there it all goes away."


    The ent had already lifted up the arm for another attack. There were no goblins roping it in now that it was made up out of burning death.


    "The dungeon master may very well settle that himself then." She said.


    "I can''t walk I-"


    The next moment he was flying through the air, having been thrown out of the range of the ent by Lydia and towards Noss'' sled.


    -


    He was airborne long enough to notice, and consciously experience the great horizontal fall for a few seconds before knocking headfirst into the brass.


    "Agh, lost some IQ points there. Hey, boy genius, wake up."


    Noss had shed the petrification already, but with the stress he had died again.


    Scratch hopped over on leg and slapped him in the face.


    "Fa-! Is zhe battle over?"


    "If it were we''d be dead," Scratch slapped at the pixies biting into his face, "your heart again?"


    Noss looked up. "I did not zhink I vould regenerate so quickly, perhaps it is zhe bloodmoon?"


    "Don''t break your head over it, shoot her again."


    "I''ve lost line of sight. It''s over."


    "It were over we''d be dead. Hand me that branch over there."


    -


    Using a crooked branch as a crutch, Scratch hopped over to the temple.


    He was able to keep the corrupted animals at bay for the most part using the fire spellrod, but he was rapidly losing blood.


    "Lacrima!" He yelled hoarsely over the sound of omnipresent violence. "Lacrimaaa!"


    One of the owlmen raised a staff, and its end began to glow. A glowing barrier appeared between them.


    "What''s your plan Lacrima!? Even if you can claim the grove for yourself, or your goddess or whatever. You can''t keep it."


    He began to circle around the place, and each owlman threw up a magical defense, possibly overestimating his power due to his status.


    But in-between the shoulders of the monsters he could get a brief glance of Lacrima, standing in the center of countless magical circles beaming down from the sky. From the moon.


    "By the bloodmoon, the transformation is permanent. The witchwood will finally earn its moniker. And it will be forever." She said, her arms held up and soaking in the power.


    "But magic can not defeat power," he rattled, "all the surrounding lands will belong to your enemy. Even when you kill my children, I will still control the Promise, and Eston, and all the indentured bandit cities in Reddington. I will come down on this backwater lady, with all the fire and fury of a modern industrial complex. I will-"


    "Then you will die!" Drunk with power, she formed a curse spontaneously in her hands and lobbed it at him. A nasty living spell that loosened the earth below him and began to drag him in like quicksand.


    He was quickly stuck up to his ankles and it was not slowing down.


    "What do you know of power!?" She yelled out, readying another spell. "Magic is power!"


    The circles around her were ready to evoke some elemental magic in the form of a targeted blast.


    No time to read its exact details he stuck out the wand and redirected it.


    -


    Lacrima had anticipated her attack being returned and held up her hands to absorb the elemental poison for the next volley, but it did not arrive.


    Instead, he attack smashed into half of the owlmen to her side.


    As if forewarned, Noss'' beam shot at that exact moment, through their crumbling ash and knocked her out from under the the temple''s sky window.


    Just then, the bloodmoon lined up perfectly.


    A red flash rung through the temple and traveled outward through the entire forest.


    But the witch wasn''t there to use it.


    The witch wasn''t anywhere.


    <hr>


    Pixies hung slightly dazed in the air. They had returned to the shape of a girl.


    Fairy beasts had returned to normality and their magical glow, and wandered off to their bestial ignorance.


    Moss was turning back into grass.


    And in the grass, lay a fairy queen.


    She startled awake and swung her arm to defend herself, but became stunned looking at her own hand. "I am..."


    "Permanent transformation." Scratch said, "Noss can explain it better than I can. Basically, it''s a compromise. You don''t poison our ground, but you still get to add the forest to your moon cult.


    Permanent control, as long as you stay within its borders."


    His goblins had been digging his sunken lower body out of the dried up earth and had carried him towards her with his feet still encased.


    "Zhe idea came to me from zhe synzhesis of vulcanized rubber," Noss said. "A transformed entity vill tend back to its natural form because its body remembers its shape, just as zhe tensiles of an elastic. My new spell melts zhe building blocks of existence completely, so zhat zhey are fluid and may settle into any new form ve assign."


    The fairy woman''s large green eyes took in his words, like new eyes, with a certain innocence. She didn''t speak


    Scratch cleared his throat. "Ahem...I understand that it would have been easier to kill you-"


    "Oh much easier, zhis magic must overcome all defenses against magic. Blessing, inherent divinity, and so on, in order to fully unmake a person. Vith such a capture on zheir essence ve could simple neglect to assign a form and let zhem disappear into nozhing."


    "Nevertheless. I have spoken to Guth, which you have neglected to do for weeks now, and we came to an understanding. I figure having one goddess as a mortal enemy at a time is enough."


    "Lacrima." Noss closed in and took her hand to help her to her feet. "Your struggles are over. You have been rewarded. Could you have dreamed zhat you vould be allowed to live forever as fairy queen, and zhat zhe goddess of magic vould give her blessing?"


    She rose to her full, fairy queen length, which was several times larger than a man. The form of a beautiful young woman, as she had taken on before with the use of minor dungeons. "And all I need to do in return is bend the knee to Scratch, king over this forest, is that it?"


    Scratch frowned, "if it''s not too much goddamn trouble."


    She fought with her pride for a moment. "Know at least that I serve my goddess first."


    "Yeah I... excuse me, can we get her some clothes?" Scratch yelled over his shoulder, as she stood naked like a newborn above them.


    The goblins, wolves and Lydia were standing by in silence. Half in deference to the sensitivity of the exchange, the other half gaping at her body.


    Of course, a giant dress wasn''t immediately forthcoming.


    Lacrima flipped her hair and gave a slight smirk. "Really though... thank you, Scratch." She bend down to touch the vampire''s chin and nodded at the Baronet. Then she flew up, gathering pixies and owls in a cloud around herself. "Leave these woods before sunrise, lest I mistake you for an intruder."


    -


    It wasn''t before the new fairy queen had disappeared from sight completely that Lydia dared raise her voice.


    "That was... was that really the old hag?"


    Scratch looked down at his cousins working away at the rest of the dirt. "Yeah, there''s a whole history there. We didn''t rush in here just because Barbara died, one of the other dungeon masters warned me about something nasty she was going to do with the red moon. But we cleared it up between us."


    She put her hands through her hair and briefly exhaled in frustration, but he picked up on it.


    "So? It worked out. Barely anyone died. Anyone of note I mean."


    "Nobles exact justice Scratch. They don''t reward criminals that kill their courtiers."


    "You know I don''t believe in justice."


    "But your people do. Look at them."


    The boys working on his legs averted their faces, not only to hide their tears, but also because they couldn''t stand the sight of his face at the moment.


    "It''s not some great indoctrination that makes people seek retribution." Lydia said. "I know you believe that. But even the goblins you raised know intrinsically. That good must be rewarded and evil must be punished."


    The vampire piped up. "Zhe woman is not some monster, under zhe circumstances, ve have been very civil."


    "Shut up." She pushed him away. "What are you going to tell all the boys at the wake now, Scratch? About their mother''s killer?"


    "I tell them the threat is gone, Lacrima is no longer-"


    "They weren''t afraid! You know goblins are never afraid. They were angry. They were looking at you to sate their anger for them!"


    He pursed his lips and looked away.


    "Why is this such an issue for you?" She pleaded. "Why do you hate justice?"


    <hr>


    The hot spring was a honeypot designed to keep in the adventurer Laurus and his followers.


    The heady steam and forbidden dungeon magic kept them in a state of constant lustful indulgence from which there was no escape.


    But now the corruption had seeped through so deeply that the succubus saw fit to let them out for a few hours a day, explore the surroundings, without common decency setting in.


    So when she gave her sister a tour around the forest, Barbara was there with them.


    And Laurus, on a leash.


    He tugged at the rope attached to his collar, but his soft and supple skin hurt against the rough fabric.


    Margaret idly yanked him, without really looking, and he wanted to cry. She had once looked up to him.


    The sisters were a few paces away, talking amongst themselves.


    From where he stood they didn''t look much like each other. Rubelle was a tall, full-figured elf, who could have been a relative of Sylphie, while this other woman looked more like a southern human.


    But of course they weren''t women, both of them demons.


    "And many more around the region!" Rubelle said as she gestured grandiosely, "coveted treasure for Kishin of course."


    "And the Baronet wields these?"


    "Oh no, very reticent, does not want to set the stage for Malsidious'' return. Naturally."


    Rubelle turned around and gestured at Margaret to come hither.


    She did, taking Laurus along.


    "But for an ally of our cause, we must be sure to establish an exception." She said, placing her hand on Margaret''s abdomen, above the uterus.


    "What are you doing?" Laurus asked, finding a bit of defiance within himself to speak out loud.


    The sister smirked and grabbed him by his face, although she had the strength of a peasant woman it felt like a steel trap around his cheeks.


    "Pathetic male. How would you like to be reunited with your strength? You may see all of it in the form of our goddess, Eriad."


    Rubelle gently put her hand on hers to make her let go. "Though that is but one of her names... the evil god of indulgence having five heads."


    The sister smirked. "The heads of indulgence have been steadfast companions to the family of temptation. If any creature on hell or earth can immerse your Baronet into the rush of evil, it''s them."


    <hr>


    Special Event: Slaying the Vampire Duchess


    The blood moon has awakened duchess Sanguineaux from her eternal sleep, and Rosethorn castle has once again sprung to life. The entire county must be evacuated, adventurers are implored upon to aid from all over the continent.


    Please follow directions from your guild staff in how to travel to the Sanguineaux region in southern Blurich.


    Thrall Suppression


    Cities and villages that have already fallen to the vampire''s curse must be cleansed of undead. While the army escorts the peasantry, adventurers travel into surrounding settlements to fight the enemy and prevent any possible ambush.


    This mission requires parties of rank D and lower to travel in larger multi-party groups. Adventurers may encounter hordes of vampire thralls, vampire knights, and vampire bats. Rewards will be handed out with proof of kill as normal, but only after the special event has ended.


    Dawn Breaking


    The sky is cast in eternal night due to the spellcraft of countess Fleder. Sunlight must be returned to give the fleeing populace a chance of escaping and to quell any further ambitions of the duchess to spread her territory even further.


    Adventurers must aid princess Linda in her efforts to dispel the evil magic by climbing the Sanguineaux peak and finding or destroying the totems strewn about the mountain.


    In this effort, adventurers will have to scale dangerous cliffs while attacked by greats swarms of vampire bats and may come to face countess Fleder in her flying carriage. There is a 20 gold reward for every new totem an adventurer can accurately on the map, with an additional 80 gold reward for destroying one. The families of adventurers that die on the mountain will be paid a mourning sum.

 Good Faith

    "The Baronet would like us to believe. Your master is dead."


    Alpheba squinted at the powerful light beaming into her face, but she knew who sat on the other side. "If that is what he says, then I believe it."


    "You don''t seem hardly broken up about it." The constable gruffed.


    "I''m not. Lacrima didn''t have followers, only victims."


    "Then why did you follow her out into these wilds? There would have been a way for you to make a living in Eston, the other children under her control could."


    "..." The werewolf was screaming in the back of her skull. The constable knew about the curse, she had transformed on the premises before, but he was making her talk about it. "I''m... not safe." The more she envisioned it, the more she had to concentrate to keep it at bay.


    "Tell me where Lacrima is dog. Or are you protecting her?"


    A door slammed open, flooding the room with natural light. "Constable." Lydia said sternly. "What crime is this young woman accused of?"


    "Just asking some questions..." the man said gently, he had walked around the subject and planted his hand firmly on her shoulder. "As fits the duties of your post."


    "As the partner of the Baronet it befits my duties to..." she reached over and pulled Alpheba away from him, "protect the vulnerable minds of these young people. If there''s any information to share about the witch''s death, you''ll hear from it. Come on, dear."


    "She isn''t one of your hideous goblins spawn. You know." He hissed. "This concerns real people. With real lives."


    Her eyes briefly flashed wolfish yellow and a growl escaped her throat, from which he recoiled.


    "Eston will be getting a new witch soon." He called after them as they left. "I''ll make sure to have her visit this hell too. Take inventory over the curses."


    -


    Three streets later, Lydia stopped to check up on the girl. "Are you alright?"


    "Who is? I''m not the one that lost control."


    "... I lost my temper, he has that effect on me. But I felt that you were about to transform, you''re still fighting her, aren''t you? You always were."


    "What else can I do? When Lacrima was around, she would use her control magic, but..."


    "The other carriers, me and the bandits, we cooperate with our spirits. We give each other space, we compromise."


    Alpheba frowned. "You want me to meld into one personality like you? It''s a bloodthirsty beast!"


    "You can sate its thirst. Let it out. You didn''t have much trouble when you let it eat Blurichan pilots, did you?"


    She averted her gaze.


    "Alpheba, I want to recruit you. We could use a magic user when out on shadow bandit operations, and it''ll give you an opportunity to ''let out the beast'' from time to time. Would that work for you? It''d give you a way to continue living with us."


    Alpheba grimaced. "Are you asking me this for my sake, really?"


    "Scratch may not acknowledge it much, but the shadow bandits are vital to the Promise, and we need your strength as well."


    "I''ll join you, it''s just..."


    "Just...?"


    She blinked away a hint of tears. "I always thought I would grow up to be a witch."


    <hr>


    Guth''s statue was the woman with the orb and staff.


    The orb was the moon, the staff a spellrod. And these objects were enough for the statue to be connected to her, allowing her to inhabit it.


    It was a common practice among the twelve gods to listen in on the prayer of mortals through their effigies. Sympathetic magic lets one treat a part or copy of oneself as a substitute of the whole, and experience the temple as if one is present in the statue''s place.


    But Scratch wasn''t praying. He had a capricious on-and-off pride that let him sneak and grovel like a beggar, but not supplicate before a goddess.


    He had his hands in his pockets and was chatting idly at her.


    "So by my reckoning there''s two kinds," he said, "there''s me, Sanadora, and her whole gang. And we''re all here due to Benesant. But there''s also Beatrice Dichtershire, and Abyss, and all those heroes. And if I''m right, those are here because of you."


    The statue didn''t respond, but he could feel her presence. The witch''s sight allowed for such things.


    "You''re from Earth, aren''t you? There''s nobody here, you can tell the truth."


    "..."


    "Look. Didn''t I do you a favor? How about you be a doll and grant me a little bit of yer time, eh?"


    "Is that how you talk to a go- is that how you talk to a woman?" She crossed her arms and fumed.


    He gave her a smug expression at having baited her out. "Beatrice mentioned a dark god granting her and the other Japanese a new life, that was you, wasn''t it?"


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about."


    "Oops, *ding*, a lie. Cyclophan is playing lie detector on today''s show. You do know what I''m talking about."


    "... I don''t see why I would-"


    "WHY do I KEEP getting ATTITUDE from you people!?" He threw up his hands dramatically and bend his legs as if about to sink to his knees. "I''m being NICE for goodness'' sake."


    "This? Is you being nice?" She hadn''t picked her ostentatious manner back up and spoke naturally.


    "Here we are, a whole goddamn goblin horde ready to help out your whole fairy conquest deal. I even let Lacrima live, which is earning me a few enemies. But I can''t very well be of much service to you if I''m not told the big picture, can I?"


    She sighed and sat down. "Fine. I''m... sorry. But can you at least treat me with a bit more respect? Usually a follower would at least kneel for his goddess."


    "Yeah... they probably assume they''re talking to a thousand year old cosmic being not, like, a millennial."


    "I''m not-" She remembered the lie detector. "I am thousands of years old. Time flows different in Cradle and Lite."


    "Ah... Is that the name of this planet?"


    She shook her head. "Cradle is what we call Earth. It''s the origin of life. Other worlds branch out from there. Lite is where we are now, and it isn''t a planet, it''s a disc."


    Having learned his lesson by now, he didn''t gloat or rub the fact that he had gotten her to open up in her face. "...How much time has passed on Earth since you left?"


    "Oh..." she smiled nostalgically, "maybe twenty years? Crikes, I''m middle aged!"


    "So what happened, did you drink a magic potion?"


    She sobered up. "No. Is that what you did? Is that how Benesant gathers her champions?"


    "I..."


    "Benesant has always been a roaming deity, but we didn''t know it was possible to affect Cradle from here. If we''re to stand a chance against her we need to bolster our own power."


    "You and who else?"


    She swayed her head, feeling she had already shared too much.


    Not to antagonize her, he quickly changed direction. "I mean, I haven''t traveled the world but they tell me every town and hamlet has a shrine dedicated to her. Can you ever match that?"


    "Gods don''t owe their strength to the amount of worshippers. We are the conscious extension of our temenos, our domain. For Benesant that is light, and things such as altruism or empathy. The more there is in the world, the more miracles she can perform. For me, it is sorcery, magic. If I can make fairy magic part of my domain as well, I will become permanently strengthened. For as long as there are fairies in this world."


    Scratch put his index fingers over his lips. "Can we kill her?"


    "Kill a goddess? No. Put it out of your mind. It isn''t your business anyway, we will not discuss it any further."


    "At least tell me what brought all of this about. How did you end up here?"


    Guth sighed. "Fine... but this is a secret, okay?"


    "Sure."


    She eyed him suspiciously. "There''s really on six gods natural to this world."


    He didn''t react as strongly as she had expected. He had no conception of what a natural god even was. "...Not including yourself?"


    "My friends and I were placed here to help set the stage for heroes to come in. We make sure the world never runs out of interesting stuff; powers, conflict, drama. In return, we get to live forever."


    "Do you know by whom?"


    "No... a bit? There''s one author to all the stories published on Cradle. The heroes say they remember a deal with a dark god, but he has no domain on this world. And, you know, gods can not provide divinity out of nothing. A god must take part of themselves and put it into a soul in order to let them reincarnate with a higher potential. Any god would have siphoned themself into nothing producing so many legendary heroes, never mind producing five whole other gods."


    That did elicit a reaction. "Then, the creation of a fiction author..."


    "No." She said sternly, "we are not fictional. I know this for certain. Gods can see the future of the entire world, but that future changes when anything from outside the world enters it. The author just writes down the current future in his comics, before it changes. The events aren''t caused by the writing, but the other way around, even if the writing comes first."


    "Okay... do we make for a very compelling documentary?"


    "Oh I never read it. I think the appeal is sort of a self-insert for readers you know? Wish fulfillment." Suddenly she started laughing. "Sorry, it''s been so long since I''ve talked this much without using the goddess voice."


    He smiled. "I like the real you much better, Guth."


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "My real name is Lauren. Guth more, like, the name of my powers, you know?"


    "Where''re you from Lauren?"


    -


    So they shared shared more about themselves and their original lives, tongues loosened and information slipped out more easily.


    By the end, Scratch had learned three valuable pieces of information.


    1. Gods can die. Or rather, they can be killed.


    2. The gods of magic, love, war, knowledge, and time were artificial. The gods of fire, earth, water, air, machines, and beasts had come with the world. Of these, the first had an interest in curbing Benesant''s power, but not against any price.


    3. The way to weaken a god is to reduce the prevalence of their domain in their world, by having a part of their domain stolen by another god, or by having them pour too much of their essence into their champion.


    Which was a lot more than Cyclophan had ever willingly given him.


    <hr>


    Cyclophan was observing the dungeon master with a certain crystalline exasperation.


    He hadn''t spoken it aloud, but the dungeon master''s ambition was very clearly to kill the goddess. Which wasn''t so much foolhardy and hubristic, as simply stupid.


    As long as there is good, there will be a goddess of goodness. You do comprehend that? He inquired.


    It was a rhetorical question, but he would have liked a rhetorical answer, which he wasn''t getting.


    The Baronet was bounding between groups and communities within the dungeon, delegating.


    Delegating monster care, architectural repairs, guard duty and chores.


    There was a whole department of chores, consisting of just goblins. Ever since crafting, cooking & tanning had become jobs humans could do and earn a living with, chores had become to mean the menial tasks. Carting lunch to workers out of the way of the underground harbor, sweeping the foundry of stray metal shavings, and cleaning out latrines. (Most latrines were not connected to any sort of sewer system in the dungeon proper.)


    It was a thankless job and the goblins were starting to duck out of doing it.


    "I hate this." One said. "Mom wouldn''t make me do this."


    "Bit early to start leveraging a tragic death." Scratch said.


    "It''s your fault!"


    He got the broom thrown at him.


    "It''s cause of you mother is dead and you never even killed Lacrima that did it. I hate you!"


    There are petulant children in the world, is there a god of petulancy?


    This is what happens when you don''t enforce order.


    I''m not hard enough on the kids?


    You weren''t hard enough on the witch. Minions need a sense of retribution when they''re wronged, otherwise they lose their loyalty.


    Everybody''s a statesman now. "He whacked the goblin on the had with the broom handle. "If you''re too sad to work you''re too sad to eat, go to your room and recuperate."


    "I''m not-"


    He whacked him again. "Off." I suppose you got that idea from Lydia, she''s hopped up on honor culture she doesn''t know a thing.


    And you are inundated with dishonor. If you do not shape up as a leader all these wretches in my dungeon will end up rebelling.


    Nobody''s going to-


    "Papa Scratch!" A goblin came sliding around the corner. "They''re rebelling!"


    <hr>


    The old wooden gears creaked lifting up floor of the old sanctum.


    "Ever since mama was gone there''s no quiet anymore." The goblin explained. "We don''t know what''s coming in and what''s going out and the traders just keep coming. I don''t know..."


    It was faster sliding down the ladder than waiting for the lift, but Scratch stubbornly insisted on being lowered by the mechanism. "What has Second been doing? He''s next in charge, he knows the set-up, follow him."


    The boy hesitated. "Second is..."


    As the upper view of the market finally slid into place, they could see the chaos before them.


    Crowds pushing against each other, yelling, fights. Some stragglers had wormed themselves out of the hurly burly and had fled towards the warping circle, crowding up again there.


    It was bedlam, but it wasn''t a rebellion.


    "Second took a boat. He left."


    -


    A few minutes later, a member of the riot had managed to slip between the shadows of the stalagmites, with a good haul.


    The chaos had allowed him to raid the pockets of a hobgoblins and stuff a powerful inscribed gem into his sleeve without being noticed.


    He knew where the secret harbor was from here, if he could just make it through the stone forest...


    But he was picked up by the scruff of his neck by an ornery troll.


    "Give him a shake, Ronnie." Scratch said.


    The thief managed to palm the gem, but the gold fell out.


    "You hit a payload like this more often?"


    "No sir."


    "Would you like to?"


    The thief put his hands against the troll to stabilize himself and looked at the Baronet.


    "This is a month''s wage if come working under me as security."


    He looked at the troll, who was showing his tusks, and back at Scratch. "You trust me?"


    "Of course. Any missing or destroyed inventory would be subtracted from your wage."


    It didn''t seem like the kind of offer one could refuse.


    "...of course! I''d be honored. Sir."


    "Good. Let me show you around."


    -


    They circled the underground market on the wooden pathways above.


    "First order of business is cordoning off these exit routes, of course. Are you taking notes?"


    "Who are these pathways for then?" The thief asked.


    "It''s not important."


    "Surely, if I am to manage this place I should know something about it."


    Scratch looked him up and down. "Well this is how we locals get around, see? Goblins, trolls, hobgoblins, we move around to the sea, to the market, to the foundry."


    "And what''s that large tower for?"


    "More pathways, more destinations. It doesn''t matter, this is your workplace. Look, we''re back."


    The wooden planks they were on suddenly stopped for a sheet drop-off. Right below stood the money tent, where gold was exchanged for Scratch''s paper currency and back.


    A little pulley system allowed for the transfer of the metal up and down when one or the other needed to be replenished.


    The troll took both of them and jumped down, smacking loudly into the rocky floor and making the thief think his head was about to decorate the market entrance as a painting material.


    But they were unharmed and the Baronet was unphased. "Lots of gold in one place, this one."


    The goblin manning the tent nodded nervously.


    "So it''s the main point of attention. You know I want to go fiat one of these days, but you need some setup for that."


    The thief was still holding his head, dizzy. "Go what?"


    "Nevermind. Here''s the goods, follow me."


    -


    ''The goods'' meant the contraband smugglers could buy and sell at the underground market.


    Some had reserved stalls, from which military grade weapons, cursed artifacts, and stolen wares were fenced.


    Some had to go up to pawning tents, where their hot wares were bought at they buyer''s price.


    The various subhumans had barely completed breaking up the riot and the fences were already back at their haggling. They had a limited time slot reserved.


    "So... lots of pickpocketing going on here." Scratch explained.


    The new security officer quickly tore his gaze away from a visitor''s overfilled purse. "I can imagine."


    "You know, everyone that comes here is a member of the thieves'' guild."


    "So they can''t be too mad if it happens to them."


    "They can be a lot madder, ''cause they can do something about it. Who were you planning on fencing that gem off to?"


    "...What gem?"


    The troll gently, for a troll, slapped the back of his head.


    "I was just... about to give it back."


    They came to a halt and Scratch gestured towards the pirate patting her pockets.


    With not a little trepidation he stepped forward and offered it up.


    "You!" She snatched it.


    "Let''s keep a closer watch on our belongings Regina," Scratch said, tapping the side of his nose, "I hear there''s thieves about."


    She huffed.


    Scratch led them further along. "The moment you had tried to unload that thing you''d have your head separated from your body and sent to Regina''s fleet commander to buy his favor. I should know, I''ve had to do it to someone."


    "...Thanks."


    "Don''t mention it. Let''s keep going, because your office is at the back here."


    -


    At the end of underground market stood a construction of layered wooden platforms with a crow''s nest at the top for an overseer.


    But immediately in front of it were the paper sellers.


    "The goods are only booming for as long as the war has the border closed," Scratch said, "this is the future."


    The security manager peered around the shoulder of a masked man to see nothing but signed plaques with wax seals change hands. "I don''t even know what this is."


    "Yeah it''s only of interest to high rollers. Basically... ever desk you see here sells some sort of financial derivative."


    "Papa Scratch." The masked man said. "My master expects greater returns on these shares the coming month."


    "Mansley, I don''t control the trajectory of a stock. Tell your uncle to diversify his portfolio if he wants to avoid a nasty surprise like that."


    The security officer''s brow only furrowed deeper.


    "It''s investment." Scratch explained. "Guild members supply an initial capital sum in order to get a steady income stream. Way back when I financed an assassins'' outfit up north, and I''m collecting thirty percent of their fees ever since. You see I have people store gold in my coffers in exchange for a small interest, and I pay the interest with returns on investment. But lately I''ve decided to let bigshots invest directly, let them take their own risks, you know? So we can grow the capital market."


    "Grow the..."


    "Mansley just paid out for ten percent of the assassination business. His family owns it now, and they''re getting ten percent of the revenue. Every place here sells something like that. Stakes in thieves'' guild business, mortgage claims, commodity indexes, bonds... The buyers like it because they can store their wealth and have it grow, the sellers like it because it gives them starting capital to set up a business." He turned to the buyer, "Mansley, I''m taking this guy to the overseer''s office, catch you later. Say hi to your uncle."


    "The paper sellers are behind all the bandit cities appearing throughout Reddington." The security officer said in a sudden epiphany. "You''re putting all the wealth of the thieves'' guild into expanding it."


    "You catch on quick." Scratch climbed up the first of the layered platforms. "My network of bandit towns is a more legitimate state than the Reddington kingdom, because it has financial intermediation. That creates social mobility, opportunity. In the long run we want to bleed the crown dry of its citizens, but that''s the long-long run. For now- Honey could you get me my hookah?"


    A hobgoblin retrieved a bubbly glass shape for him with a flexible tube and small receptacle. It was almost as tall as the goblin himself and sloshing with sparkling water.


    Scratch placed himself on a cushion and inhaled through the tube. The vapors of burning blue grass bubbled up through the hookah and into his lungs. When he breathed out a great cloud of effervescent smoke blew through his nose and dissipated over the wooden floor. "For now all you need to know is that the paper is the most valuable asset in the market, and you are to protect it with your life. Are you in?"


    The former thief stood there sort of awkwardly. Alone, bereft, and surrounded in a den of strange inhuman creatures. Having smoke blown over his feet. "You mean, will I accept the job?"


    "Accept the job. Do it to the best of your abilities. Not run off with whatever you can carry at the first opportunity."


    "...Yes."


    Scratch took another puff of the blue grass. Then he rolled his eyes. "Okay, kill him."


    A large troll hand closed around the thief''s head. "Hah! What? Why?"


    Scratch tapped the side of the hookah. "Because you''re lying. I know when I''m lied to."


    But of course it was only his connection to Cyclophan that gave him that insight. And Cyclophan hadn''t told him about his brother leaving.


    <hr>


    "Sir, it''s the archbishop."


    The warden looked up from his paperwork. "...Right."


    He had anticipated the clergyman for almost a week now, but still the moment felt sudden. He had a sense of foreboding about his presence in their remote prison colony.


    The heavy mechanism of the airlock creaked and the entrant was revealed to those inside.


    The archbishop of Linefort and Cantershire. Without retinue but with all the wealth and majesty of a high ranking member of the clergy.


    His holy tassels shuddered at the sudden sense of depleted mana.


    "My apologies, your holiness," the warden said, "we keep powerful magic users here. Anti-magic is an unfortunate but necessary precaution. We''ve all gotten used to it. Would you like some tea?"


    "No, thank you my child. Rather I would like to get to business as soon as possible. The prisoner?"


    The warden shared a quick look with his second in command, then he deferred to the clergyman. "Of course, your holiness, right this way."


    -


    They quickly paced through the tiled halls of the underground prison.


    A narrow space with the weight of a mountain pressing in on it.


    "Normally we''d have waited for the baron''s approval before we''d acquiesce to an ecclesiastical request..." the warden panted nervously. "But your cardinal impressed upon us such urgency-


    "It is urgent." The archbishop barked. Then he softened, "thank you for obliging."


    They came to the mess hall to find a common sight.


    The tiny redheaded creature stood on a table, preaching the word of Benesant, and the other prisoners were kneeled before her.


    "That''s her."


    Sanadora looked up with a knowing smile at their arrival.


    -


    Moments later, she had received a private audience with the archbishop.


    The venue was a confession box, often reserved for convicts searching for redemption with a local priest.


    "Archbishop...." Sanadora said, "the church has undergone some changes since I last set foot in the world of Lite."


    "Then it is true..." the archbishop said breathlessly, "as the oracle said, you are her champion."


    "That I am, and I have yet aggrieved the goddess by letting myself get captured by your people. When I have a holy mission."


    "Yes... there was confusion with the ongoing war. I shall report to his holiness the pope at once. He shall pressure the Reddington government into releasing yo-"


    "No. Word of my existence must not spread any more than it already has. I am but a temporary visitor to this world, not a herald of her word. It would greatly enrage the goddess to see me announce myself. Further, we have wasted enough time already, I must leave here tonight."


    "But how? I do not have the authority-"


    "You passed the entrance at the surface, yes? It is kept hermetically sealed so that magic can be extracted within the prison at a faster rate than it can flow in. That is why captives under this mountain can not regenerate their mana."


    "Then, what should I...?"


    "Your rosary, archbishop. It was provenance that you would come here bearing that symbol."


    He looked at the little figurine of a winged deer on his bracelet. "The symbol of the goddess."


    "When you leave, drop it within the gears of the airlock. Before this realm''s peacekeepers have amended the technical fault, I will have regained my strength."


    "But the church of Benesant will have committed an act of aggression against his majesty-"


    "There won''t be a crown if the corruption I seek out is left to fester. You are a man of faith, archbishop?"


    "Of course!"


    "Then you must trust the goddess above all else."


    His hand closed over the rosary. "...I will do as you say."


    -


    Just after midnight the mechanism of the tunnel entrance locked up.


    Just before dawn the mountain had erupted with holy fire.


    By sunset the following day, no living prisoner remained under the mountain.


    <hr>


    Church of Benesant


    Temples to Benesant are the primary avenue for healing and curse removal within civilized settlements, and adventurers are encouraged to make use of them. Both the church and the guild being organizations that transcend borders for the good of all people.


    Each township of at least size rank E will have a functioning chapel within its walls, administered by a priest. These perform the holy rituals to aid adventurers, but also to confer blessings on the newborn or officiate weddings.


    Priests are appointed and led by bishops, which preside over a region. Some townships may house a bishop that also serves priestly duties.


    The further rungs of the ecclesiastic hierarchy are then archbishops, cardinals, and the pope, who are tasked with officiating for high nobility. Adventurers of rank B and above may occasionally be commissioned for holy quests by these high clerics.


    When traveling to Heiligdom for audience with the pope, be advised to observe Blurichan law and the bl?dschicht. (Page 4 of the adventurer''s guide.)

 Turnaround

    Heiligdom is a huge city!


    I guess it''s not just cathedrals, it''s also where all the highest church officials and their servants live, and then all the people that make their life possible.


    Since we have entered through the southern gate, the carriage has been going for two hours and we''re still not at the holy place.


    I mean, Heiligdom doesn''t have the quick monorail transport of the capital, but with my mechanical horses you''d think we''d be there by now.


    The buildings we''re passing have become fancier at least. An hour ago we were on a bridge over top single and two story buildings, white as chalk with colorful accents. The buildings here are just as white, but none less than five stories. Every inch of them is decorated with stone plants and gargoyles. It''s almost like there''s nobles living here!


    Wahnzin is looking at the surroundings nervously. She''s biting her thumb again.


    [It''s fine,]  I say, [we''ve got an official invite for you. You''re allowed here.]


    [I know, I know.]


    Lothar pipes up. [You''re nervous because witches aren''t normally allowed in Heiligdom?]


    [So. Many. Witches. Were burned here.]  She says under her breath.


    [Even if you had snuck in, I don''t think they''re burning any witches nowadays.]


    [You play Whisk?]  She asks.


    [No... a bit?]


    [Burning pyre is the most common non-creature whisk card in Blurich. You can buy it in bulk for 2 copper a piece. That''s how many witches have been burned in Heiligdom over the ages. Walgis remembers their deaths, the dreamworld is thick with it.]


    [It''s alright,]  I pat her hand to comfort her, [those were all evil witches.]


    -


    The pope''s estate is really high up as well.


    After reaching our destination, we''re led up the stairs to the garden terrace, and the horizon isn''t even visible until you get really close to the edge.


    [Hey, shoulf we follow him?] Lothar points to our guide walking further into the garden. I was so occupied with the view that I hadn''t even noticed!


    [M...mister priest, please wait for us!]


    The garden is really nice as well. I think there''s rare flowers being cultivated here. I don''t know botany, but Wahnzin''s eyes are getting really big looking around!


    Suddenly we stop in front of an old man tending to the roses. The priest kneels and the others are saluting! I better salute as well.


    [Please, be at ease.] He says. [I am incognito.]


    [Oh, sorry. Does it hurt?] Lothar asks.


    The man ignores him and turns to me. [You must be the young Stahl. Please remember, this conversation never happened.]


    This... this old gardener is the pope?


    He''s turning back to the weeds. [As you know, officially, the church remains neutral in the war.]


    [What war? You mean between Blurich and Reddington?]


    The holy city of Heiligdom stands within the country of Blurich. Lots of nobles from Blurich have high ranking family members in the church. They probably don''t want to seem any more biased than they already do.


    [Yes. The royal house of Reddington have been faithful servants to the goddess for generations, we do not wish to antagonize them and break their faith. However...]


    [However they haven''t been as faithful lately.]


    The pope snips off the underdeveloped buds of a rose. [This palace is the only place in which communion with the gods is routinely achieved. And the gods tell us the Eston Promise must be destroyed. Yet the crown protects it.]


    Lothar slaps me on the back. [Don''t worry! Thanks to Diedrich we''re about to win the war, and the kaiser can demand any concession he wants!]


    The main flower of the rose gets snipped, leaving only a thorny stem. [I''m not so certain about that.]


    [Eh? Why not?]


    [Your Kaiser may prioritize territory over virtue. The Reddington king may be seeing some hidden value in the subhumans, and exchange their safety for another concession. If peace is declared without the destruction of the Promise, our window of opportunity may close for a long time.]


    Wahnzin swallows a lump in her throat. [Then... what are you asking of us?]


    He stands up. [I should take my leave. I can not be away from the holy choir too long without raising suspicion. Please... take a walk through my garden. The statues of the gods are more... lifelike, than any in the world.]


    [Wait, what do you mea-]


    [May the goddess watch over you.]


    We probably shouldn''t run after him.


    [I guess we have to take a walk?] Lothar asks.


    Wahnzin sighs. [It would be a waste turning around now, when it took so long to get here.]


    I nod. [It''s not just to appreciate the flowers, the pope said we should look at the statues. There''s probably some message there.]


    [Let''s split up, we''ll cover more gound that way.]


    -


    I take the eastern path, which means I should get to see the statue of Sonma first.


    There it is!


    It''s one unbroken piece of marble, but it''s been sculpted to look like real pliable flesh.


    I say a little prayer. [Thank you, god of machines, for giving us siege harnesses.]


    Oh, but forma lines are grown. So maybe they''re plants?


    By the way, there''s twelve gods in this world.


    The leader is Benesant, goddess of light.


    Sonma is the god of machines.


    Noruk is the god of beasts.


    Rhada is the goddess of fire.


    Geros if the god of earth.


    Histolf is the god of water.


    Dower is the god of air.


    Guth is the goddess of magic.


    Dronk is the god of war.


    Dither is the goddess of love.


    Vreem is the god of knowledge.


    And there''s a god called Walgis, who keeps a record of everything that happens in the four realms. It''s called world memories.


    Because people in Blurich usually have affinity for air magic, Dower is our patron god. But I think Dronk is prayed to more!


    -


    The path through the garden is peaceful, but there''s no sound of birds or insects or anything.


    Only the distant chanting of the holy choir.


    Before I know it, I''m standing in front of the statue of the god of war. Wow!


    [Diedrich Stahl.]


    Eh? Who''s talking to me?


    [Akio Takanaka.]


    Ah! It''s the statue. [The statue is talking!]


    [Be not afraid. I am the god Dronk. I have come to guide you on your adventure.]


    [A god, what an honor!] I quickly salute him.


    [Yes, don''t- don''t hail me like that. I must applaud you on your efforts in this conflict.]


    [Oh. You mean the war between Reddington and Blurich?]


    [Of course! You must be wary and shocked by the human cost of war...]


    [...Yes.]


    [But as the god of war, I must tell you how necessary it is that there is war in this world. It is war that keeps the sovereign honest! Allowing corruption to fester, or oppressing the populace, these are irreconcilable evils. Sovereigns must be punished or prevented from doing these things. And only a military assault by another realm can do this.]


    I make sure to nod understandingly, he''s a god after all. [I understand... I think. So king Reddington is evil?]


    [Akio... why did you come to this world? Just to work a job like you did in the last?]


    Why did I come here? That dark god... (But I like making mechs).


    [You possess the power to change this world''s fate. It is up to you to decide who it is that must be held to account.]


    [Don''t the gods want the Reddington goblins killed?]


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    [That is indeed the will of Benesant...]


    [And yours?]


    [Benesant is the mightiest among us. It is her that your pope will have wanted you to speak.]


    I''m not getting this at all. [Please tell me what to do. Am I not doing what I''m supposed to?]


    [Diedrich Stahl... there are others like you.]


    Now he''s turned to stone again! This doesn''t help me at all.


    Who are the others like me?


    <hr>


    Even the least capable brood mother could rise to the challenge of a shed.


    There were always ''big brother'' goblins around to provide some experience cutting and placing wood, and even newborn could manage something with enough elbow grease.


    But the next wyrm shard in the second segment to be tamed sat in not much more than a hole in the ground.


    Dirt was actively crumbling from the ceiling when Scratch was led down into the darkness, only held up by some upturned planks and mycelium.


    "She has called to me," the young broodmother explained in a reverent tone. She was knelt down in the darkness, wearing more dirt than clothing and uncovering the shiny surface of the wyrm shard.


    "It spoke to you?"


    "The dungeon core has been inhabited by an evil god. Pharik... speak to us Pharik." She pleaded into the lifeless stone.


    "I don''t have time for this. How about you get some spawn and get a proper industry running before I come back and-


    "Wait!" She said. "Just wait. The kishin shall show itself."


    And indeed, as she said, the wyrm shard shook awake. It shed the thin layer of dirt on its face, and the motion threatened to collapse the entire burrow.


    A shining crystal beamed out at the goblin. In some abstract way, it an eye-like quality. The way it shined he felt as if it were looking at him.


    I see you it spoke inside his mind.


    He threw up his hands, making a show of his magnanimity staying around to hear the rock out, and he sat down. "I assume you want to negotiate?"


    What makes you say that?


    "Why-? Well you''re not really in an ultimatum position, are yah? This wyrm shard, which- not for nothing- is my property by the way, completely naked and undefended. You''ll be wanting to hang on to it, because that''s the one thing all evil gods are desperate for, but the only one on your side is a failed brood mother."


    "Failure? Aren''t I a dungeon master? Failure my goddess!"


    A clacking mechanical laughter came from the wyrm shard. Very good, very good Papa Scratch. Indeed I have come to make requests of you. But be not mistaken, this is not my only dungeon core.


    Something began to seep from the shard, something glowing and fluid crept over the floor walls and ceiling, and where those things seamlessly blended together.


    Only now did Scratch realize he had entered a possible trap with no defenses or plan. The presence of mind of an old soul could not protect him against the fearless nature of a goblin, or he would have felt something stepping into the darkness.


    You have served my sibling before, in the warm water well not too far from here.


    "A... sibling."


    Indeed, and as Eriad and I are but two heads upon the same well of power, her dungeon is mine also. And I have observed you there before... As she spoke, the magic completed. It had formed a glowing membrane, keeping the soil in place and preventing a cave-in.


    "Eriad is... Ah I see, okay." He sighed. "And the girl is another demon, isn''t she?"


    The broodmother''s demeanor flipped on a dime. "How could you tell?" She said in a sultry voice.


    "It''s not that strange for a prospective brood mother to get cold feet about actually mothering any brood. But they usually lie about it. I''ve picked up an ear for people trying to mislead without stating any outright lie. You were consciously avoiding Cyclophan. My guess is, you didn''t spawn goblin children because you can''t, and you couldn''t have the god of lies catch on to that fact." He leaned back. "Besides, only dark sorcerers call you kishin."


    If she has displeased you, I can have her removed.


    The demoness didn''t protest.


    "It''s alright, state your business."


    You follow Cyclophan. Why?


    "It''s a mutually beneficial arrangement."


    I shall speak your language; I believe the five-headed god can make for a more beneficial arrangement for your sake. You want to be a demon king? You will be. Three families of demon sing the infernal praise of at least on of us.


    "Each of... the five heads?"


    "When the kishin fell from the wyrm, indulgence was split only halfway." The succubus exposited, draping herself over the wyrm shard, "Lust, gluttony, wrath, ambition, comfort. These are one goddess, but different minds."


    That is right. We may kibble from time to time, but we are united in purpose. And we see you as our next champion.


    "Oookay, I see what''s going on. I get your seal of approval, I can summon demons without worrying about getting backstabbed. That''s the deal, right?"


    In one fell swoop, the threat of mortal armies will disappear. An army of stone devils will march from these burrows and secure every inch of the second segment. All these lands will be one sprawling citadel, without thieves or outsiders, where your goblins can live safely.


    He scratched behind his ear. "That''s quite a sales pitch."


    It''s not an opportunity that comes around every day.


    "Too good to be true, more-like. I imagine if you could do all that you would have done something like it already, but..." he looked around at the poor excuse for a dungeon.


    I do need an... enterprising... follower such as yourself to set the conditions for it.


    "That would be the catch."


    A resource that is considered plentiful and cheap to one such as yourself...


    He raised an eyebrow.


    Human sacrifice.


    <hr>


    "Indeed, human sacrifice." The succubus later recounted, through a pursed smile. "A new reminder that the give heads of indulgence are the most agreeable to our kind.


    She poured Youthere some black liquid out of a teapot. Something vile they drank for the taboo of it, rather than taste or nutrition.


    "Ever greedy to steal more power for themselves, are they?" The incubus said.


    "Oh no... well, yes of course. The consuming of souls takes in their divinity, and selfish gorging is most unvirtuous. But more agreeable to the temptation family, it sets the follower down the strongest path of damnation."


    "Oh~?"


    She placed the pot down. "Most certainly! It is a guiding principle of temptation that great acts of taboo will commit a sinner to their path."


    "Aha, I catch your meaning. Indeed, murder, betrayal, these are irreversible acts, and the perpetrator awaits the prospect of great moral anguish if they were to disavow them. So they must double down, stay the course, for their peace of mind... Great acts of taboo and little slipping of habits, these are the two avenues by which we engender evil."


    "Mhm. Knowing this, and that sacrifice is more irreversible than even death, Pharik the evil goddess of ambition is our greatest ally."


    He paused with the cup to his lips. "Scratch has long since embraced evil as a source of strength. There is no doubt in my mind that he will eagerly trample on the weak for his ambition. But he has not yet embraced evil for the sake of evil, we must engender some thirst for the suffering of others to complete his journey."


    She put her hands together and leaned forward. "The taboo is redundant?"


    "The promise of more sacrifice will entangle the five heads of indulgence ever further in our schemes. Very soon his wretchedness will make acquaintance with Grint, of wrathful indulgence. That will provide us with an opportunity towards bloodlust."


    "Indeed. Perhaps some campaign of revenge..."


    "....could build him a tolerance for suffering..." they were both getting excited, finishing the other''s thoughts,


    "...and make habit out of cruelty!"


    Youthere stood up, seemingly resolved on something. "In the name of our future demon king, this sacrificial rite must go through. We cannot give him time to explore doubts. The sacrificial altar and ritual implements must be prepared as soon as possible. It is time my wavering master obtains the patronage of a true evil god."


    "The Cyclophan will be kept in the dark."


    "Cyclophan will be powerless to stop it."


    <hr>


    The magic for human sacrifice was orderly, clean, and efficient. The kind of sorcery a god would provide, rather than the messy jerry-rigged knots of mortal sorcerers.


    Scratch''s witch eyes scanned the green lines of the magical sanctum. A great clockwork flowed through the grooves of the stone floor, or perhaps a bear trap, something that could spring and collapse itself onto the poor sap that would die on the central altar.


    It had been completed surprisingly quickly. Suddenly, all sorts of neighboring colonies had heard about a project going on, and had sent goblins to help out. And it was already time to supply the victim.


    The sacrifice must be placed upon the altar before the candles are lit. Pharik commanded. If their death is under my eye, I will absorb them. The more powerful the sacrifice, the better.


    By the baronet''s own direction, the wyrm shard had been suspended directly above the altar, looking down on the proceedings.


    "I hadn''t forgotten. Bree!" He gestured at the troll. "Open the doors."


    The corrugated slate curtain slid open as the troll pulled on its side, letting in the orange light of a blazing forest fire.


    "She''s early," he groaned.


    -


    ''She'' was Sanadora, who had been predicted to arrive at the Promise a bit after sunrise, based on the path of firey destruction she had carved into the countryside.


    However, the apostle had somehow sensed the preparation of sacrificial rite and adjusted her route to point more directly at the new sanctum.


    A poison ent collapsed to the ground, crumbling into pure carbon sand, and she was standing on top of it, scanning her surroundings.


    "I could smell your sin." She said. "It is a thick miasma from here to the faraway mountains."


    Scratch stepped forward into the choking ash and simmering heat. He was wearing a rubber glove to handle burning materials. "You just killed three dozen of my children like it was nothing."


    Her eyes shot open with pure hateful disdain. "Their death is on your conscience, for you have put them between yourself and your rightful judgment."


    "Fall back!" He commanded the remaining troops. "Her magic can''t hurt me, stay out of the way."


    She avoided the flames flaring up from the ent body by jumping off and gently floating down. She was remarkably small. A new entrant in this world. "The spell hath slain you in Cradle avoided old souls, my newest weapon knows no such weakness, but..." she glanced at the wand palmed in his off-hand. "You had guessed that already."


    They stood across from each other, both tiny creatures in a large world, in an ephemereal moment of impasse.


    If she were to attack now, he might counterspell and return the attack.


    This time it''d work on her too.


    -


    Scratch slowly stepped to the side like a swordfighter, turning her away from the hole. "I''ve money here. You could have whatever you want. What''s Benesant paying you?"


    "You insult me deliberately." She held up her hands, ready to cast her magic. If the goblin were to lower his guard, even for a moment, she had a clear shot. "It matters not. And it matters not how ignorant you are about the true nature of sacrifice, I will destroy you before you can complete it."


    He took a few more steps to the side, and she turned to keep him in view.


    Her eyes took a quick glance at the sacrificial altar and back. "Where''s the victim?"


    He smiled, and for a brief moment she felt the gaping maw of the cavern loom at her.


    The corrupt goblin knew exactly the true nature of sacrifice.


    The horrible, blasphemous reality of consuming the soul itself.


    And how she was the most valuable soul to be consumed in the world right now.


    The chilling realization that she had been lured there lowered her guard for half a second. Then she jumped to the side.


    A fireball twice her size singed her arm coming from behind.


    She stumbled to her feet to see a wolf woman lower her arm a few dozen paces away. Evidently, they hadn''t all fallen back.


    She was about to react but was suddenly engulfed in flame.


    Papa Scratch had bounced the same fireball back using a counterspell.


    -


    Sanadora struggled, fighting immense pain from all sides, but she managed to dissapate the swirling flame.


    It wasn''t holy fire.


    Now Scratch had cleared the distance between them and knocked her to the ground with a leap and a punch.


    His strategy was to give her no quarter for getting her bearing and thinking up her next move.


    He twisted her burning arm with his gloved hand, so that she couldn''t move. And when she tried to chant a spell, he stabbed her with the back of his wand, knocking the wind out of her lungs. "If you''d waited a few more years you''d be too strong for me now. But this size... I can handle it."


    The wolf woman, Lydia, already stood over them as well. Having cleared a much larger distance in even less time. "Goodness, Scratchie, she''s just a kid."


    "No, she''s not. Help me restrain her."


    "No! Don''t sacrifice me, NO!" The apostle suddenly yelled out in panic.


    Scratch''s glove closed around her head and he turned her face towards his. "Benesant has poured herself into you, right? So she can see and hear this. If she does, I have a message for her; ''It''s over with. You had your fun, but it''s no more me against the big wide world. From now on, it''s my big wide world, and it''s you that''s up against us.'' ... That''s all." He fidgeted with his pockets and pulled out a small blade. With that, he slit her throat.


    -


    You Fool! The goddess of indulgent ambition thundered from her suspended position. The sacrifice must die on the altar. On it! You have let the prize get away!


    The couple did not seem as remorseful as they could be, as he led her into the cavern.


    It''s not too late to earn my favor. The... the brood knight would make for a suitable first meal. Yes, the first in a line of many. You shall provide humans I will... Scratch.


    The goddess'' voice petered out when she realized she was not being listened to.


    There was a sound of ropes unwinding and shovels scraping when, suddenly, the wyrm shard was dislodged from the ceiling and crashed directly onto the altar.


    What''s happening?


    "We are of course very grateful for the offer." Scratch said sweetly, as Lydia used her magic to light the torches of the sacrificial circle. "And we are glad that you thought of us."


    S-stop!


    "But we have decided to focus on developing our relationship with more established partners. I hope you understand."


    Guth and her friends were rewarded for their faith that day.


    The essence of the evil god was consumed via ritual sacrifice, her power and domain returned to the celestial realm.


    <hr>


    Stone Devil


    Family: Demon


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 1 gold piece


    Stone devils are demonic soldiers consisting of rock and stone. They can be told apart from gargoyles by their upright gait, cracks, and weakness to holy magic.


    One may expect stone devils in the lair of a dark sorcerer, or a rocky hills zone corrupted by sin. Their rocky exterior provides deceptive camouflage among natural stone.


    Unlike gargoyles, stone devils can suffocate, so elemental magic can be used to bury or drown them. However, they can not be hurt by weapons with a lower weapon grade than steel. When fighting a stone devil, ranged attacks a recommended as they possess a petrifying touch and are often encountered in squadrons of eight.


    Adventurers can retrieve the reward for slaying a stone devil by presenting the ruby heart taken from its body. No alchemical components can be retrieved from its body.

 All Backward

    "I didn''t even know evil gods could be sacrificed." The god of war said.


    The god of knowledge adjusted his glasses. "As if we need more proof that you''re an idiot. When they''re possessing a part of the wyrm they''re incarnate beings, are they not?"


    "What did you call me?"


    "Guys! Can we focus? Dither is... different."


    The goddess of love was different. All five aspects of indulgence had been swallowed up by the sacrificial ritual, and it had colored the essence of her being.


    A necklace of five beads sat on her collarbone, and a beauty mark just above her lip. She was fuller of figure.


    "Honey, I''m fine. I''m stellar." She put her hand through her hair and giggled at some internal pleasure. "I haven''t felt this alive since I was... alive"


    Guth threw up her hands and stepped away. "She just called me honey."


    "Some minor changes to personality are to be expected." Vreem took off his glasses completely now to fiddle with the arms. "You just took on a whole new domain, Dither, you embody more context now."


    "Oooh, yes!" She she shook her hair free and let it hang over her face. "Pleasure, lust."


    "No." Guth said. "None of those things. Indulgence. A piece of Malsidious'' old domain."


    "Whatever it is, it''s compatible baby." She held on to the god of war''s strong forearms. "How could I embody beauty and love before this, I don''t know. I''m complete now."


    Dronk gently tried to peel her off. Walgis straightened himself, turned around, and left.


    "Where''s he going?" She wanted to know.


    "He''ll come around." Vreem put his glasses back on. "And so will you. You''re drunk with power now because one of the evil god''s heads had stored it up from a contract with succubi."


    Guth wrapped her arms around herself. "Maybe this was a bad idea..."


    Dither pouted. "You just wanted it for yourself. I saw you, shining inside with your moonlight. I wouldn''t have gotten in the cave first if they hadn''t kissed."


    "My moon follows a set orbit you bimbo!"


    "See! You''re already back to your regular infighting." Dronk said with a forced positivity, but then he became serious, "But... seriously? Let''s not do that too often. If you change too much, you won''t be able to connect to your places of worship anymore."


    "That goes for all of us." Vreem said.


    "Or not, have we gone soft in the head?" Dither spoke, suddenly much more articulate, "There''s a roaming god about to invade Earth and we''re trying to play it safe, preserving our religions, worrying about PR."


    "But in the long term-"


    "There won''t be a long term, unless we act now. Forget the story lines, forget the church."


    "So? What do we do?"


    She licked her lips. "We pick and choose our own allies. Whoever serves us the best."


    "Like Papa Scratch."


    "If he continues to be of use..."


    <hr>


    The atmosphere was thick with anticipation.


    The satin drapes surrounding the devil altar rolled and swayed by some unseen force.


    The lich sat in.


    His cow skull of a head shook and the ring in his horn clanged. "There has been movement on a sensitive issue."


    "On what sensitive issue?" Scratch poured himself a cup of tea. The dark sorcerer''s aura was threatening, but he managed to ignore it. For once he could thank his subhuman fearless nature for helping him steel his nerve and not let the deception shine through.


    "The most sensitive."


    He sat down. "Not the shards, is it? I''ve kept track of mine."


    There was a hint of something, a flicker in the lights deep inside the lich''s eye sockets. An emotion, possibly. "A number of fragments of the dead god have disappeared. It seems."


    "Ah. That."


    "You know about it?"


    "My familiar has been throwing a fit all month. Did they just up and leave?" He leaned in. "Did someone kill them?"


    "That is what I am tasked with finding out. There has been no activity among the second segment? Dungeons claimed by kishin?"


    "Ah- Well, you know, I have been looking for them."


    "It will occur, in the fullness of time."


    "In the fullness of time, I''m certain."


    "But currently, none?"


    "None."


    Scratch suddenly became very interested in the paperwork he had laid out for the visit.


    It was the ruling theory within the Promise that their lich patron was in no hurry to house all evil gods and bring about the resurrection himself, but Pinchin, the evil god of death and undeath saw and heard everything he did.


    "But while we''re on the subject," Scratch quickly tried, "I wouldn''t want to displease you by keeping this a secret."


    He tapped the circled parts on a map, and the lich took it from him.


    "What is this?"


    "Arlette''s new vassal cities. She supplies the capital, we supply the manpower and trade contracts." He grinned. "And, honestly, she''s really bad at price negotiation."


    "I did not approve this."


    "I thought you''d be pleased!"


    The skeletal minotaur uprighted himself, his enormous form looming darkly in the small sanctum. "You were mistaken! Though we strive for ressurection, the power of Pinchin must be greater than that of Zajjit when that occurs. If not, the Water Witch will gain the status of Champion of Evil."


    "Look again," Scratch said patiently. "These cities, they''re on the land, aren''t they?"


    The lich held the paper up again. "Yes, and so?"


    "I find that it usually doesn''t pay trying to force people to do things your way. What you do is set the conditions so that your interests naturally align. If Arlette invests in these projects enough, she''ll have to think twice about flooding the surface world."


    "She will still do it."


    "Maybe... eventually. But it''ll slow her down. In any case, I thought we had agreed Abyss is your most threatening rival? With Arlette''s cooperation we can have significant operations there, completely clean of his spy network."


    "I see now... so you still believe gold can conquer this world."


    "Well, maybe not gold, but money, yes."


    Slowly, the lich sat down, moving the air with bulk of his skeletal body. "Will it save you from the western war machine?"


    "It has to, right? Otherwise you''ll step in and turn this all into an undead wasteland."


    "...Will it?" He said again, now more forcefully.


    Now Scratch did feel a twinge of fright, normally reserved for a goblin only once a threat has been made good on. "It will."


    <hr>


    "So I need a solution for this Blurich problem." Scratch said.


    Yes. You will command a great army, the orcs obey my command and will slaughter the Blurichans like pigs. Said Manshuu, evil god of bloodshed.


    He wasn''t as strong as the evil god of indulgence had been, and Scratch needed his hookah to hear his voice.


    "Now I know you''ve got a hand in this sort of thing, and I figure... you know, you could stop them from claiming this spot." He said, waiving the mouthpiece around.


    I shall. Simply spill the blood of this sacrifice and the contract is sealed.


    "Just as a favor to me, to keep our good thing going."


    Are... are you talking to me?


    The sacrificial ritual sprung into action like a bear trap and clamped the evil god''s essence, sacrificing it to the god of war.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    A statue had invited the god''s presence into the room, and it became animated to speak. "I shall convene with the pantheon over your protection. Benesant''s branding of your person should be counteracted, yes, but divine action requires divine deliberation."


    "Dronk! Hi there! First time. You don''t need to talk godly with me, I''m up to speed."


    "There is a need."


    At this point the girl he had recruited as fake sacrifice broke out of her bindings and lifted up her blindfold. "Stars above, it is the god of war!" She was one of Laurus'' girls that lived in the hot spring.


    "Come on, Dronk, war is your domain." Scratch insisted, all too familiarly in tone, "isn''t it really your call at the end of the day?"


    "Suppose you believe these sacrifices could be a quid pro quo." He huffed.


    "Want me to say a prayer?"


    The statue sighed. "The source of Blurich''s strength in this conflict is a protoge of mine. Dietrich Stahl, the royal weaponsmith. His destiny were to realize the folly of the Blurichan way of life, and learn strive for true justice over military glory.... But his story has already become weaponized against you. Reach out to the duke''s daughter, who touches the lives of all carriers of great destiny. Then you may find him."


    Having felt that he''d said enough, Dronk retreated, and the statue returned to lifeless stone once more.


    "Wow!" Said the girl. "What does that mean?"


    Scratch massaged his temple. "Gods often speak in riddles."


    His body still under the influence of blue grass, he could hear the voice of Cyclophan very clearly telling him what it meant.


    As if there could be any doubt.


    <hr>


    The Duke''s Daughter was Beatrice Dichtershire.


    By the time she got the baronet''s correspondence it was a full six weeks later.


    She had dropped by her father''s estate briefly to receive healing for a poisoned party member, and her father''s servants had all but physically taken hold of her and forced her into the second story study, where the various clerical responsibilities of a highborn noble had been waiting for her.


    The animal-hide parchment envelope sat somewhere on the bottom of a huge pile of paperwork. She picked it out immediately.


    The maid, stationed on the duke''s orders to make sure his daughter wouldn''t shirk her noble duties, could only raise an eyebrow at the young lady''s sudden eagerness. She couldn''t guess at her thoughts, watching her quickly scan over its contents and retrieve her own writing paper.


    Possibly the young Dichtershire had developed a sudden sense of responsibility and passion for her family''s position as leaders. More likely, the minor noble''s communication related somehow to her love of adventure.


    "Young miss? Would you like me to proofread your response for grammatical errors again?" She offered helpfully.


    "Sure- wait, no." She quickly shielded her writing with her arm. "This is of, uhm, sensitive nature. I''ll need you to leave the room and-"


    But she saw the address. "You''re addressing it to a Blurichan city!?"


    Beatrice quickly pivoted and took on a nonchalant manner. "Yes. What of it? I am a highborn noble, it is perfectly natural for me to engage in manners of diplomacy."


    "Ma''am. Letters across battle-lines are intercepted. Diplomatic missions during wartime are made in person and announced ahead of time."


    "Oh... I didn''t know that."


    "Even I know that." The servant suddenly remembered her position and withdrew. "If it is your wish, we can make arrangements for you to join the diplomatic envoy... your ladyship, madam."


    Beatrice threw up her hands. "No! Please. It''s not that kind of diplomacy. There''s someone specific I need to get a hold of..."


    "Someone specific...? A friend?"


    "Yes. Someone I hope to get on friendlier terms with. A possible ally."


    "...A boy?"


    Beatrice nodded seriously. "A boy my age whom I believe is a driving force behind the Blurichan success."


    The maid''s head spun and her chest swelled, what a wonderful dramatic twist! "I see! No wonder you had broken off your engagement. And now you two are separated by this horrible conflict! Star-crossed! Don''t worry miss, not a word of this will go to your father."


    "Good. Uh... star-?"


    "We must find a way to reach out to him quickly! I am certain there is a way to slip you past the battlefield, I shall talk to Higgins, the butler. He knows some people that know some people." The excitement elevated her pace and pitch and she made a deliberate effort to keep herself in the intelligible range.


    Beatrice stammered a bit trying to keep up. "O-okay! That''d be great, thank you!"


    "The maid grasped her hands. "The two of you will be reunited, I''m sure of it!" Then she dashed out of the room.


    There was much to do, bringing the young lady and her secret lover back together.


    <hr>


    While all of this was playing out, Scratch had almost forgotten about his letter.


    He had gotten himself in a whole different conflict. One that could by itself tear the Promise and its guarantee of protection apart.


    "It says 5 gold!"


    He forced a smile. "It just says the number 5, if you''ll read it."


    The brood mother waved the piece of cloth at him. Too angry now to even speak. "You- This- It''s theft, is what it is."


    She was one of the more prominent brood mothers in the favored territory. Normally, she would have taken her grievance up with Barbara. However...


    "You know, Barb would''ve never let this happen. She looked out for the rest of us. But as soon as she''s gone you go ahead and pull this. You think you''re invulnerable!?"


    The words were vaguely threatening enough that it made Felix put his hand on his weapon and Ada put away her pocketbook.


    The brood mother showed the palms of her hands and backed off.


    "As far as you''re concerned, nothing will change." Scratch explained. "Lumber costs the same, textile costs the same, you''re not losing out on this."


    "Then what''s the point, huh?" She said, still agitated. "We can''t have gold metal in our homes, but we could be sure we had gold to spend via these promissory notes. What''sit mean they can''t be exchanged for gold anymore, huh? You decided to keep the whole hoard to yourself? Just you wait if the adventurers'' guild find out how much booty-"


    "They CAN still be exchanged for gold, you mad cow!"


    Scratch didn''t often get mad. She was slightly stunned.


    He pinched the bridge of his nose and then held up a hand in a gesture of insincere half-apology. "They''re just not pegged to a set amount of gold."


    "So they''re worthless."


    "No it''s-..." He tried to come up with an analogy. "You''re buying limestone from one of our bandit cities in the north, right?"


    "Right."


    "So how many promissory notes did you agree to pay for it, for how much were they willing to part with it?"


    "120 or thereabouts?"


    "Well there you go. That means the value of a note is 1/120th of a limestone shipment."


    "The market value in gold is 120 you obtuse bastard."


    He nodded. "And if you visit our currency exchange, you''ll see that the rate is still roughly 1 gold for 1 note. For now."


    "But eventually, you''ll be skimming from the top. Is that it?"


    Scratch sighed. He had the prospect of having to suss the suspicions of every broodmother in the entire goblin territory. "Eventually, the gold price of limestone may change. It happens all the time. Someone claims a dragon''s hoard, and all of a sudden the whole county is flush with cash and they won''t get out of bed anymore unless it''s for a big sum. It''s chaotic! Gold backed currency is a stress tornado of fluctuating prices. Fiat currency is controlled. You can expect to be paying 120 notes or thereabouts for that amount of limestone for a long time in the future."


    "...This is some sort of trick. What are you really trying to do?"


    "How about we let this one sit for a while, and if it comes out that you''re losing out you come to me then, alright? I''ll be right here, I can''t go anywhere."


    Eventually she was pacified by the promise that she could come back to complain later.


    "Why didn''t you tell her what''s going to happen to the value of gold?" Ada asked, after she had gone.


    "That''s state secret."


    <hr>


    One the break of day, midsummer, a peaceful village in the south of Reddington was hit by a devastating earthquake.


    One of the titans holding up the world above the abyss had flinched, and the slight slip in his grasp had shifted miles of rock and stone.


    The reason for the being''s mistake was a sudden gathering on the Inverse Mountain.


    The jagged piece of rock hung beside his face, as tall as the tallest peak the Overworld had pointing up at the stars, but pointing down towards Hell instead.


    That day, the stalagtite was tittering with demons.


    Succubi, incubi, gold devils, and all other demons from the family of temptation hissed and screamed and beared their claws. As Youthere descended towards the peak.


    The enormous rolling eyeball of the titan filled the sky before him, and below him the distant fires of hell burned.


    But he were not afraid.


    He were proud of his depravity, and he were proud of the duplicity of his master.


    Yet, he was there to hear judgment.


    -


    "Servant of Evil," the succubus spoke his true name, "you stand accused of-" she almost couldn''t say the word. "Benefaction...ugh. What do you plead?"


    She hung upside down, harpy claws digging into the tip of stone to prevent her from falling into the abyss and losing her physical form, so that she could look down on him. That is to say, up at him.


    He secured himself with his feet as well. The bangs that covered his face most of the time fell upwards, and they could look one another in the eye.


    "Guilty, your wretchness."


    The swarm of demons recoiled as one, retracting on the mountain like the hairs on a catterpillar.


    "That is, if it is benefaction to lie, to betray, and to kill those who trust one. Then yes, I have been unforgivably virtuous."


    "Is that what you shall report to the Prime Evil? That you saw fit to destroy a thousand years of cruelty for a few seconds of betrayal?"


    "That is right, and I make no apology!"


    The demons hissed and stamped and flapped their wings and almost drowned out his speaking.


    "If you- Friends! Friends! If you disagreed with me, you would not be demons of Temptation! Friends! What value is cruelty if not begot by the hands of mortals? A thousand years of cruelty, indeed, but by whom!?"


    He pointed accusingly at his accuser.


    "By your beloved Golgos, who would feed my master''s empire to the Gluttonous Goblin King. I say nay!"


    "The five heads of temptation were our greatest ally in tempting humanity towards evil, your summoner has broken that strength!" She argued.


    "Each age that a champion of any of the five heads hath reigned as demon king, evil itself did not proliferate. Indulgence did, yes, by the demon king, and suffering, yes, by the subjects. But not sin in the minds of men." He held up his arms, that is to say, held them down, to call up support from among the crowd. "Do I lie!?"


    "Your words are as empty as your appetite for evil, traitor. We could have been feasting on the cries of despair, that mankind let out against the lash of a goblin flood. Yet your master stays his hand."


    "Cries of defiance!" He said. "My master has tempted countless into evil. Even now, they eagerly hold out their hands for his alms, they lie and beg and steal for his Sweet Crimson, and they abandon service of their lord to join his outlaw cities. Friends, we together can make new ideal for humanity to aspire to. One of greed and ruthlessness and domination. A hero of evil!"


    This was his crowd. He could not have won so many supporters if he had not been given this chance to speak at Inverse Mountain.


    The demons of temptation were certainly amenable to it. They knew of the sway heroes had among humanity, they had to navigate around it every day.


    Mortals were loathe to resort to sin that betrayed their ideals, their examples.


    But for sin itself to become the ideal... it was almost too good to be true.


    The accusing succubus made one last plea to win back the crowd. "The stolen power of Eriad now lies with Dither, who is our enemy. You do not deny that we have lost our strength?"


    "..." Youthere fell silent. He had known that he would have to address it eventually.


    They had not introduced Scratch to the evil god expecting him to betray it and harvest its vital essence.


    But now there was nothing to do other than own it.


    "Dither herself will be patron to the succubi." He boldly pronounced. "If she will not, let my light be extinguished and cast into Hell, never to return."


    It was a powerful oath, and not something a demon could make lightly. An incubus didn''t have the strength to survive among fire demons.


    That just meant he had to make it true.


    "How?" She demanded.


    "The same as mortals become our masters. She will be seduced."


    By some greater instinct, the demons felt that this was the end of the argument and fell upon the two.


    Inverse Mountain became a brawl of claws, wings, and magic, with demons fighting for whoever they believed had made the stronger case.


    In the end, it was the accuser that was overpowered and cast down into the black.


    The familiar to their hero of evil had won.


    <hr>


    Heart Flutter


    Class: Bard


    Rank: C


    As this spell has no combat functionality, it may be taught outside of the adventurers'' guild.


    Where the pacify spell can keep an enemy from attacking, and the enrage spell can set a monster or beast on a nearby target, the arouse spell only arouses the brief sensation of being in love.


    The bard''s song induces excitement and euphoria while it plays. This will cause the subject to seriously consider their feelings towards those in their life, but can not induce a lasting fondness for a specific person. True love can only be brought to the forefront of one''s mind if it was already sleeping inside.


    This is a bard spell, and can only be cast via magical instrument. The goddess of love, Dither, bestowed this song upon the great Madeline hero during the Blurich/Grienice war, to make the generals realize their love for each other and bring about peace.


    Addendum: guildmembers are hereby forbidden from using Heart Flutter anywhere in hearing range from the guildhouse. Your party members are NOT secretely in love with each other, stop trying to turn real life into your romance novels!!!!

 True Value

    [Please remember. What happens behind this door is top secret.]


    I nod. It''s been so long since I''ve spoken Japanese with someone, I was almost afraid I''d forgotten.


    The cat-girl opens the door to the old ballroom. Who would''ve thought old Sakson castle hid some many secrets?


    What''s this? Amazing!


    It''s all the powerful people currently alive in the world together in one room!


    Beatrice Dichtershire is here of course, at the head at the table.


    But there''s also Adel, the edelweiss hero from our capitol.


    And Donato, the legendary bard.


    The ancient wizard Klumpus.


    And a bunch of other adventurers.


    Donato stops playing his flute. [Finally he has arrived, waiting around is like chewing sand.]


    Eh? Donato is from Osaka?


    Beatrice stands up and bows. [Welcome, Diedrich Stahl. To the community of isekai-jin.]


    Right! [P-please take care of me.]


    -


    It''s really special being introduced to everybody''s real identity.


    Dichtershire-san was reincarnated as the villainess from the story she loved. Donato-san woke up one day in a world where his compositions where world-famous.


    It seems like everybody has an amazing story to tell!


    I really want to tell Lothar and Wahnzin about this, but I guess it has to be a secret for everyone''s personal life.


    I wouldn''t want them to think of me any differently either.


    [Well? Tell us then.] Donato-san says.


    Everybody''s looking at me. What am I supposed to tell them?


    [Stahl...] Dichtershire-san says to me [everyone here has encountered the story of this world before. Sometimes in novels, sometimes in games. Do you have any memory of all of this? What happened in the story?]


    [I don''t remember anything like this. I didn''t play a lot of games, I would just collect toy robots...]


    Adel-san slams his hands on the desk and walks off. [I said it before. Nothing''s changed. The goblin didn''t know any either.]


    What is he talking about?


    Beatrice-san wants to explain. [The story we saw was that of the future that we would each encounter. But we had the power to change it.]


    [And then our changes would show in the story of another.] Donato-san says.


    She nods. [But lately, it seems like stories about this world are disappearing from Japan. It makes it seem like we don''t have any future left.]


    Adel-san clicks his tongue. [We have one future, and it''s his future.]


    [Adel-kun was the one that read the story of Abyss. Destroyer of the world.] Beatrice says. [We had hoped his efforts had created a new future already.]


    [Abyss? Is he an other isekai-jin?]


    [Kato Ken. He was brought here alongside his entire highschool class. Basically... some things happened and he killed them all.]


    Killed-!?


    [Whether or not he was justified... he holds a grudge against this entire world and wants to wipe out everybody.]


    Oh no! I didn''t expect something so heavy to get brought up all of a sudden!


    -


    After talking to everybody, I think I can say this.


    [The church of Benesant... may actually be something bad.]


    [You''ve met the pope.] Klumpus-sama says. [Do you think he''s an open and honest man?]


    [He met with us secretely, in the rose garden.]


    [The church of Benesant is rife with intrigue and scheming. They did nothing to lift a finger against countless oppressive lords, but when it comes to Scratch-san, suddenly they take action.]


    [Scratch-san? Ah, you mean the goblin lord.]


    It''s all the noble families that are closest to the church that want us to focus on attacking the little backwater town. I didn''t understand why before.


    [He is an isekai-jin, like us.] Dichtershire-san says.


    [Eeeeh!?] I am not the only one surprised.


    [Abyss is a dungeon master. Scratch is a dungeon master. There must be some connection.]


    [Abyss'' minions could have infiltrated the church and be using it to take out a rival.] Klumpus suggests. [Or Scratch an accomplice of his and the gods have declared him an enemy over that.]


    I shake my head. [When we were at Heiligdom, the pope wanted me to speak to Benesant, but the other gods told me to question the church instead. They told me to make my own judgment.]


    [Scratch may be a foreigner,] Dichtershire-san says, [but he does not want to destroy the world. Instead, he left our club with valuable information. Locations of S-rank dungeons, and the corruption and lies of important royal figures.]


    Klumpus-sama clasps his hands in one. [We can slash his empire in half before breakfast. That is, if you''re up for some adventuring.]


    I stand up and get on my knees. Dogeza position. [Senpais... I apologize. I did not know the church was corrupt. I followed the directions of my country over my own conscience. My deepest apologies!]


    [Raise your head, Diedrich-chan.] Dichtershire-san smiles. [You have nothing to apologize for. It is only natural for an isekai-jin to follow the common sense of their new world.]


    Adel-san laughs. [Gahaha, but from now on, things will be different!]


    <hr>


    Underneath the Harkness manner, in the comparatively public-facing parts of the sprawling basement, stood the Mint.


    A series of primitive standing looms, their productive element tucking small within their large wooden frameworks, where small cloth rectangles were weaved and dyed in one.


    After the textile came together, the attending goblin could swipe the stencil hanging above with some colored ink and press it down, printing the faces of important Promise authority figures onto the currency.


    Scratch called it "paper money", although no paper was involved.


    Now that no gold needed to be weighed and booked into the underground treasury, the mint could happily produce as many bills of fortune as possible and the goblins were developing a joy in trying to complete the process quicker and quicker.


    Ada sighed. Just looking a her smaller cousins working assembly made her feel tired.


    She sat in much too small of a chair, her legs crossed, and idly waving a bill around with her face on it.


    "So now that we''ve got unlimited money. Can we buy our freedom?" She asked her father.


    "We don''t have unlimited money. I only have..." he looked at his little hand held chalkboard "200 more with this printing. You don''t have any."


    "Yeah but it doesn''t have to be only 200. We can print as many as we like."


    "We can''t, that would devalue the currency to nothing."


    "...Why?"


    "Look." He put his things away and walked up to her. "Everything that''s bought and sold has a price, yeah?"


    "Yeah?"


    "And every time a price is paid within our territory, this paper changes hands, right?"


    "Right."


    "So then, the total price of things being bought and sold has to match the amount of money there is to go around, doesn''t it?"


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    She uncrossed her legs and leaned in. "No." She said defiantly.


    "Why not?"


    "Maybe somebody isn''t spending their money. Maybe two guys are just giving it back and forth."


    "Aha... that''s smart." He relented. "Maybe not the amount of money itself, but the circulation of it, that has to match the price level. If we buy everybody a wyvern to fly around the continent with..."


    Her eyes lit up at the suggestion.


    "...Do you think the wyvern sellers would just sit on that income?"


    She sunk back down. "...no."


    "And having such a big sum in their pockets, what do you think they do to their own suppliers."


    She didn''t answer.


    "Supply and demand. We''ve discussed this."


    "They have more demand... so they make things more scarce for others... so the price goes up."


    "Indeed, a rich man can stand to lose more in a negotiation. And he usually will. An excess supply of a commodity drives down its price, that''s the meaning of value."


    "Well then can we print anything at all? I mean it''s only increasing the amount, it doesn''t go back down."


    He held up a finger. "We can keep on printing, as long as the pool of goods and services it circulates in continues to increase in size. More total price, means more currency is required, right?"


    "...oh."


    "As long as the economy keeps growing, we as the money printers don''t need to tax even a percentage of it. We profit off of the seignorage."


    He had used several words she didn''t understand, but he was prone to doing that. A few more times and she would have pieced together their meaning from context. "Hey. So... when people stop using gold they''ll start using our money right?"


    "That''s the plan."


    "So with the seignorage... we could buy a wyvern."


    "...I''m about to go south to bring this stuff into circulation. How about you bodyguard? It''ll be a trip."


    She forgot about the wyvern immediately. "Yeah, sure!"


    <hr>


    The new currency was entered into circulation via the medium of loans.


    There was a newly constructed pirate port south east of Grienice that had the prospect of selling stone and metal to the dungeon lord Arlette in her Stillwater Ocean, but first it needed to construct for a proper trading port.


    "Three tons of daily throughput." Was the pitch when they arrived. "We have the fleet, we have a guaranteed supply and a guaranteed buyer. All I need is some starting capital."


    Ada looked at her little brother- nephew really- reading the papers and confirming the number.


    She didn''t have the patience to do long division like Maenith, and she had already learned that math being right didn''t prove anything. If the fleets could move that much in a day, then yes, that was the storage capacity Count Bondlieu needed, but let him prove that they could carry stone to the Stillwater Ocean in the first place.


    Regardless, Scratch seemed satisfied. "You have your starting capital here, Count. It''s legal tender in all our cities."


    The pirate admiral toyed with the bills. It was mostly the large denominations, which featured Lydia. He''d have preferred gold of course, but he was sensible enough not to mention it now.


    Ada followed the muscles moving in his face, the faint backdrop of emotion that played no role whatsoever in this negotiation.


    Bandit leaders were usually exiled nobles, but the nobility of Grienice had been deposed almost a century ago. He''d have to been born into exile, inheriting a meaningless title from a parent clinging to past glory.


    He knew how banditry worked. He knew that this financial talk was just window dressing to one bandit city being overlord and patron to another. Though it would hurt the pride of a man like him, he was submitting to a greater power.


    For his part, Papa Scratch left his dignity intact. Mostly.


    "What would be the interest?" Bondlieu asked.


    "2 percent."


    He froze up. His face hardened.


    "Annually." Scratch quickly clarified.


    Bondlieu relaxed. "Loan sharks usually ask for interest by month."


    "That''s only if we don''t trust you."


    "2 percent per month is the same as one-oh-two-times-one-oh-two-is-one-oh-four-oh-four-times-one-oh-two-is- 27 percent per year." Maenith quickly calculated.


    She gently patted his head to signal not to interfere.


    "If you don''t pay in-between."


    "We want you to survive Count." Scratch said. "27 percent would cripple the town. We''d never see the loan repaid at all. Although we could collect monthly, with a credit account and a local banking office..."


    "2 percent annually works very well. Let''s shake on it then." The count quickly said.


    "Oh one more thing." Scratch almost shook his hand but then put his fingertips together. "One condition."


    "...Yes?"


    "You see... it''s my wife. She worries for me. She is fearful that I might- haha- squander our money on untrustworthy individuals. Of course I know what an honorable man you are, but for my wife''s sake. I''d like to have a few of my people sticking around."


    The room darkened.


    There were people outside the windows, blocking the light of day.


    Shadow bandits had circumvented the count''s pirate guards and scaled the admiral''s quarters from the outside.


    Before he knew it, they were inside.


    Ada sighed and stepped towards the door, where the count''s guards were just about to burst in upon hearing the noise.


    She disarmed the first one by grabbing the fingers holding his cutlass and twisted them such that he was forced on one knee, blocking the others from coming through the opening. "It''s just a threat," she said, "let''s not es-ca-late."


    "Shadow bandits." The count said.


    Scratch nodded towards the intruders. "That''s right. An elite force of outlaws. If everything goes right, you won''t see them after today."


    "Lupi!" One of the guards exclaimed. "They came out of nowhere and took on human form."


    "Guard dogs, I''d like to say." Scratch smiled politely. He was fighting his pride at least as much as the pirate.


    Ada could never hope to understand why her Papa was so opposed to enforcing rules. In the Promise too, it was Lydia that kept them in line. Scratch said that they were allowed to break any rule of which they understood why it existed.


    Perhaps it was offensive to him that not everybody could be a maverick, mold breaker.


    "They''ll be keeping an eye out for foul play but also... ready to step in, if you know what I mean."


    The count was less than pleased. "If I were to break my contract, you would have been able to find me. This prova di forza..."


    Scratch dismissed the werewolves with his hand, and all but one left the way they came. "You''re not my only client in this city, and my business isn''t the only one we want to protect."


    "What is your meaning?"


    "You buccaneer your heart out out on the seven seas. But within this town, there''s no killing, there''s no stealing, and there''s no kidnapping anybody for their bounty without my express permission, is that clear?"


    Bondlieu clenched his jaw. It wasn''t that steep of a demand, but the goblin had insisted on stepping on his pride at the last minute anyway. "Aye, sir."


    "Call me Papa."


    -


    The werewolf that had stayed was Alpheba. Ada almost hadn''t recognized her in her new black skin-suit. Only a few strands of her typifying green hair escaped the hole in her head covering.


    Although she were a petite girl normally, werewolf form had intimidated the guards and they could make their exit unmolested, despite the damage to the ship.


    Ada felt that she herself was at least as dangerous as Alpheba''s direwolf form, but there weren''t many that would back up that claim.


    "So, you''ll be the face of law enforcement around here?" Scratch mentioned, sort of tersely as if he had had no say in it whatsoever."


    "Shadow banditry." She said. "Lydia has taught me the basics. We have a few safe houses scattered around, eavesdropping corners and rooftop routes..."


    "Can''t be very sneaky as a direwolf." Ada said.


    "I''m usually not a direwolf."


    "Well, take it easy. Make sure to take plenty of bribes, and don''t feel obligated to be consistent. That''s the hobgoblin of little minds you know." Scratch pointed out.


    "Huh?"


    Alpheba didn''t acknowledge what he had said. "We''re still learning, it will probably take a while for us to really disappear into the shadows. But a bandit city is good training grounds. There are no real guards to hide from, the population all but expects the thieves'' guild would have a presence, so the occasional slip up isn''t a huge loss."


    As they spoke she escorted them to the post office, which was situated just outside the port town proper and had a warping circle hidden in the basement.


    "Must be hard running around the whole city and not transforming." Ada said, stubbornly returning to her own topic. "I mean, you got little legs, everybody else is a wind wolf."


    Alpheba pursed her lips, clearly much to grown up now for hobgoblins. "I used to be a witch apprentice, I have magic to help me."


    "Not anymore?"


    "No, still. Magic power- the kind that isn''t derived from cheap gizmos- doesn''t disappear. It''s knowledge."


    "Yeah but- you''re not an apprentice?"


    Ada''s question had caught her off-guard. "No I... Miss Lacrima doesn''t have a need for me anymore, it seems."


    "Oh so she just threw you out like garbage? Harsh!"


    Alpheba bit her tongue and looked at Scratch to put a stop to his daughter, but he just laughed good naturedly as if it was all harmless ribbing.


    "And after she turned you into a werewolf too. That''s selfish." Ada knew exactly what she was doing.


    "That is just the way it is." Alpheba said. "An apprentice serves their master in exchange for knowledge, the relationship is predicated on that exchange. When one party can no longer offer anything of use to the other, the apprenticeship disbands."


    "Well I think it''s-"


    "It''s perfectly rational." Scratch said. "Here is where we get off."


    In theory, an advanced enough mage would have been able to travel to a known warp circle from anywhere. However, the goblins relied on crystals and energy-ingesting-and-excreting-silicon-manabladders to simulate the effects of the spell. The resulting contraption was hardly portable. It stood in the basement of the bandit town''s unassuming post office and took the form of an imposing wood and copper platform, sporting arches and more than a bit of crystal plates.


    "Ada." Alpheba said, while Maenith was dialing the coordinates on the rotary device, "you know I don''t regret ever becoming a witch''s apprentice. Lacrima has taught me to see the world in a way few do. It''s knowledge that I use and share every day defending this city."


    "But wouldn''t you''ve rather been a normal witch?"


    They didn''t have time to continue the conversation because Scratch flipped a switch. A shot Alpheba one last admonishing look and they disappeared.


    For a brief second they were the three of them a flash of light, a bolt of weightless nothing soaring over water, forest, and grasslands, a whole volume of land that one could never explore in one lifetime.


    Then they were in the egg shaped thing under the Promise, a hobgoblin peeked through the portcullis and then began to heist it up.


    "Is being an apprentice really so great?" Ada asked.


    Scratch smiled. "Well you''re kind of my apprentice."


    "...Meh."


    <hr>


    While her apprentice roamed the human world, aging, Lacrima sat admiring her eternal beauty in the reflection of a forest pond.


    Like anyone, she had been young once.


    Young and exceptionally beautiful.


    That dark and seductive witch was a faded memory now, left far behind on the long and winding road to the witchwood. She had given her youth to Guth.


    And now it was back.


    She traced the back of her hand over the water''s surface, seeing that face from long ago reflected once more.


    Suddenly she looked up at the moon.


    She hadn''t heard from the goddess in a long time.


    A part of her was afraid of what she might hear. Had her spent youth been returned to her as a refund? Here is your money back, we''re going with a different partner.


    Scratch.


    She had been kurt with him because she feared him greatly.


    Feared that he had taken her life''s purpose from her and her standing with the goddess of magic.


    Why hadn''t she reached out?


    With the invisible light of a fairy queen, Lacrima called forth her own little followers. Pixies swarmed around and landed on her arms and shoulders. She smiled pleasantly. It was much more pleasant than control magic.


    Control magic belonged to her past as a hag.


    "There are other fairy groves," she told the little fey girl perched on her finger. "They must also belong to us."


    The pixie nodded without really understand.


    "I shall need an army that can traverse the lengths of this world, and gnaw at roots in distant earth. What such creatures can the feybloom produce?"


    The little girl raised her shoulders and threw up her hands.


    "The stars will tell us." Lacrima said.


    She turned the leave and the fairies shook off her bare shoulders as one coat.


    "I must build an observatory."


    <hr>


    Heartbeat


    Class: Bard


    Rank: C


    As this spell has no combat functionality, it may be taught outside of the adventurers'' guild.


    While bards have used the Heart Flutter spell for flirtation for generations, the Heartbeat spell provides a stronger, more physically felt version of the effect and can not be used in idle passing.


    Although the exact purpose for which the goddess has designed this magic must still be determined, its main use seems to be in animal husbandry. As the mind altering effect of the beat compels creatures to breed.


    This is a bard spell, and can only be cast via magical instrument. The goddess of love, Dither, bestowed this song upon the legendary bard Donato during his meditations in the west, as part of the newest wave of divine inspirations all across the four realms.


    NOTE: This entry is under review. Please leave comments and suggestions in the clay jar, so that they may be taken into account before the entry is added to the next print of the adventurers'' guide. Thank you!

 Through the Cracks

    There''s tons of ghosts in this dungeon.


    I use my dwarven runed sword to hack away at them and it''s really easy.


    You would think the throne of the Emperor of Secrets would be a bit harder to conquer. But then again we have the world''s most powerful heroes all working together.


    This dark sorcerer doesn''t stand a chance.


    [Who dares disturb zhis sanctum!?]


    There he is! The Emperor of Secrets!


    I can''t see much of him because he is all wrapped up in bandages just like his apprentices.


    Wow! The library is coming apart!


    The wooden floor is falling away. The bookcases are floating!


    Some sort of magic is happening. I can feel my body getting heavier. Magical chains are coming out of the books?


    This must be the power of the dungeon core!


    [Alright! Now it''s a challenge!] I''m getting excited!


    But Klumpus simply swings his staff and the curse disappears.


    Oh well.


    With a single fire slash, the dark sorcerer is incinerated.


    Now it''s time to gather the loot!


    -


    Klumpus is very interested in the many scrolls and secrets that the library holds, but the rest of us are just looking for gold.


    We''ve gathered so much gold from these S-class dungeons, we had to make sure to distribute it evenly between the realms, so one wouldn''t become more powerful than the other. The cloud dungeon of the storm dragon alone had enough treasure to buy out my family''s debt from the original story fifty times over. I wouldn''t have needed to prevent the fall if I knew I could just become powerful enough to loot a mega dungeon that wealthy!


    But this one has barely enough gold to fill one caravan.


    [Maybe dark sorcerers are just poor?] I say.


    Adel shrugs. [Well he wasn''t as powerful as the others.]


    That''s true. The other mega dungeons were fortresses that had been raiding nearby baronies for decades.


    This ghost library was hidden away underneath an old church.


    [How can we be sure these mega dungeons we''ve been clearing serve Abyss?] Adel says. [They weren''t in the story before.]


    [The story changes with every new reincarnation.] I say, [but even if this is some sort of trick by the noble goblins, we''re still doing a good thing defeating them. These dungeon lords are evil. I mean, just look around! Every one of these tomes is filled with horribly evil sorcery that no good man would ever use.]


    Just as I say that Klumpus laughs triumphantly and begins tearing a page out of a book he found.


    Poor timing Klumpus...


    [If Scratch is a bad guy, he may just have used us to clear away competition...] Adel sighs. [An archbishop contacted me. He had received divine revelation that we should stop clearing these great dungeons. He said Benesant herself told him not to follow Scratch''s advice.]


    [Well that confirms our suspicions.]


    [It does?]


    I nod. [Either Scratch is corrupt, or the church is. Diedrich has taken his mech army to Heiligdom to find out which.]


    Klumpus looks up. [He''s taking an army? That''s a big step.]


    [I believe he wanted to make amends for blindly following their morality before. Don''t worry, I''ve helped him determine his allies in the Blurichan court, and who is more loyaly to the church.]


    [Ah, political manouvering. As expected of the duke''s daughter.]


    <hr>


    By the time all this had taken place, the war between Reddington and Grienice had long since cooled off.


    "Inspired by the charity of these good-doers, the generals of the war found the good will in their hearts to call of the fighting. Asking no concessions." Scratch read smugly from the newsletter.


    The Promise had a printing press now. Not by far the first city to do so, and it was operated by a few of his hobgoblins to print monthly tabloids. Mostly consisting of old facts and starting attempts at poetic musings. A creative outlet before it was a serious business.


    The constable angrily snatched it out of the baronet''s hand. "It was the royal armorer. Stahl. That seized political power and forced an armistice. Tell me why?"


    "Me, tell you? We both read the same newsletters constable."


    "You did something. This is all too convenient."


    Scratch got up and walked onto the street, but the constable followed him.


    "War is declared just when the Promise would be dissolved in the name of peace. Peace is declared just when the Promise would be claimed by war."


    "Constable, your mind is fascinating. Peace is in my interest but war is as well? I am much humbler on these things. I dare not imagine the great powers flowing ebb and tide with our little town. We''re much too inconsequential to declare peace over, wouldn''t you say?"


    He turned around for his diatribe, grinning up at the terse constable Harkness.


    "Much more likely, in my mind, that Blurich, which was winning the war, became distracted by internals squabbles and couldn''t spare the troops for trenches."


    Harkness pointed the paper at him. "I will find out what you''re doing. And how you''re communicating with the outside world. I know you''re doing something." He turned around to go back inside.


    But Scratch called him back. "Severus."


    "What?"


    Scratch took the newsletter back. "I don''t emphasize this enough, but I am your boss."


    The man clicked his tongue.


    "What would you say your job is is, here?"


    There was a frustration behind constable Harkness'' eyes, but also a certain catharsis for Scratch to finally drop his faux-friendly politeness. "I keep the peace within the town." He said reluctantly.


    "That is incorrect. Your job here is to be miserable."


    "Wha-"


    "Your job is to sit back and watch this place you tried to destroy flourish. Your job is to see the daughter you disowned become the head of a large family."


    "You think you''re on firm ground don''t you? This barony only exists for as long as the count allows it to."


    "You do not have the count''s ear. I do. I''m the one making him rich. Even if you had anything to report on, he''d rather not hear it. The reason you''re still here is not to keep me in line but to get rid of you. You are gotten rid of. Take the rest of the day off."


    Scratch walked off, leaving him there.


    "Heck. Take the rest of the week. We don''t need you for much!"


    <hr>


    But it wasn''t true. The Promise was very much still on shaky ground with the Reddington nobility.


    The church opposed them, and the Reddington court had no shortage of religious ideologues itself.


    Bree could prattle on about it endlessly while she helped him lift that evening. "The Dichtershires still have their divine crest on the door of the main house," she said, "but the Shurlings removed it when George took over as head of the family because of the war with Blurich."


    Somebody had told her about the rumors and intrigue of Reddington high society, and the poor girl had absorbed everything like a sponge.


    "But George may not be the head of the family very long, ''cause they say his sister Theophany wants it now and she''s older so..."


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Scratch let her speak, it didn''t slow her down. As they took the statue of Benesant into the first level of the dungeon, through the various winding corridors of the basement and to a hidden dark corner in the back of the stone.


    She stopped to deposit the heavy thing onto the floor and it made a hellish thump.


    "What is this place?" She asked.


    "It''s called an oubliette, or a forgetting corner. It''s where I keep all the horrible things I want forgotten."


    At the far end of the room stood a tiny chest, like the kind to hold jewelry or... whisk cards.


    She reached for it but he put his hand on hers. "Forgotten."


    "Oh," she said, remembering another fact, "Reddington nobles have secret card stashes too. They hide away embarrassing cards so that they can''t be used to blackmail them."


    "Well then we are Reddington nobles.... would have destroyed them if I could."


    "Yeah you can''t- why put the statue here."


    Scratch looked up at the stone chiseled woman. "Because of this," he kicked the pedestal, "wake up!"


    "WRETCH!"


    "There it is."


    Bree jumped as the statue came to life and spoke.


    "My disciple will return, and she will not be along. You can not escape judgment forever."


    "We''ve relocated Bennie. We''re about to have visitors again and I can''t have you making a scene upstairs.."


    "You only announce your guilt to the world then. Human beings, adventurers or otherwise, will make note of my absence."


    "Why can the statue move?" Bree whispered to her father.


    "Bree, why don''t you leave us alone for a moment?" He told her. "This is a private moment."


    "But how!?" She whined. She knew she''d be stuck with that question for the rest of her life if she didn''t get it answered now.


    "Well it''s... witch magic." Scratch said.


    "Huh?"


    "What?"


    "Remember when I had cursed your auntie Lacrima? I used a locket with her hair in it. That''s her sympathetic magic. If something comes from someone, or it is made to look like them, there''s a connection there. We had the stone chiseled to look like Benesant, so it''s connected to her and she can move it."


    "My divine presence is not some magic trick. The sympathy of forms is not ''witchcraft'', it is divine miracle. Not that I understand the likes of you to understand the difference."


    His face showed that he indeed did not, and neither did he care to. "You''ve been activating these things all over the county then?"


    "...The power is stronger in the presence of a true believer... I find more willing ears in farther steads."


    Bree was up in her personal space, inspecting the moving textures on the animated stone. "So you''re a witch?"


    "No!"


    "Goddess," Scratch said, "the same thing, broadly. More powerful."


    "That you would be a believer. Sickening. I shall waste my time-" she pushed the troll off her, "no longer on you subhumans. Know that you will be destroyed. And it will be not a mortal weaving the stuff of mana responsible, but a being of fate and ether itself."


    "Hey now- HEY!" Scratch blurted out, slipping in decorum to catch her attention.


    She had already left the statue but then came back. "This should be an entreaty on your part."


    "Don''t subhuman me, you were the one that put me in this body."


    She raised a disdainful eyebrow. "It suits you."


    "You could have put me anywhere. Peasant boy in the middle of nowhere doesn''t bother anyone for a decade and a half at least. But you had to humiliate me, because a goblin was the worst thing you could think of, because you had to make me small. But being a goblin is what gave me this family. Remember that when we come for you... you did it to yourself."


    "What else would you have had me do?" She said angrily. "Wrest my own power from my soul to give you the body you think you deserve? Raise you up to the divinity of a man? By what right are you owed such a privilige?"


    Bree looked on with quiet amazement. She had never heard of Scratch having been anything but a goblin before.


    "I was already a man!" He fumed.


    "Nay, you were a weak creature from Cradle, a shadow of a human without magic and susceptable to disease. Your soul never held the potential to inhabit a denizen of Lite."


    They stared each other for a moment, both with the hands on their hips.


    "You''re saying humans on Earth are weak?"


    "Other sources of corruption have been eliminated by my disciples quite handily. It was only because you deceived them into sharing the power of reincarnation that you are still a thorn in my side."


    "How many?"


    "..."


    "Now I know Sanadora got put right back in here. How many other power rangers have reincarnated already?"


    "You may find out soon."


    She disappeared again and he kicked the air.


    "Whatever you heard just now, forget about it." He told Bree. "It''s not an oubliette for nothing."


    "Yes Papa."


    But of course she didn''t. Being a troll every word was etched more-or-less permanently into her mind.


    Something else she couldn''t forget was the world memory she''d snuck out of the box while he had been occupied. Stealing is only allowed if you don''t get caught, her father had taught her. And the world memory was about her.


    Theft of Humanity the card read, with a human infant on the devil altar being partially discolored in the skin. It triggered a hidden memory in the back of her mind.


    Scratch had once been a human. And so had she.


    <hr>


    An invitation from the ravenous lich did not carry as much of an ominous air as it once had.


    A necklace with the zombie curse, a flight over the wastes. One could take a trip to the meeting of dungeon lords without all too much stress.


    Though the meeting room seemed eerily empty as of late.


    With no more deserving behinds to fill up the chairs, Scratch claimed one for himself. At his stature it was a bit uncomfortable kicking his feet up all the way onto the table, but he did it anyway.


    "Is this all we have?"


    Ritter let his ghostly gaze move over the room. Besides Scratch''s soles he saw only Arlette and the ghost.


    "I have lost everyzhing." Yanis said. Shed of his mortal wrappings, he had been reduced to nothing but a ghost. "Zhe company of heroes has obliterated us."


    "I still control most of my domain, but the Storm Dragon has been vanquished." Said Arlette.


    "And Abyss?"


    "I don''t know... perhaps his demise was as shadowed and sudden as his ascensions."


    "Empty chairs at empty tables~" Scratch sang.


    "Ritter, vhy is your vassal here?"


    He jumped up on the table. "To take inventory of course." He gestured with his fingers making snapshots of the two dungeon lords. "Who''s left? Who benefits?"


    Ritter lowered himself into his seat- he would have sighed if he could- and gestured at him to tone down the theatrics."I have asked the champion of Cyclophan to assist me this meeting."


    "Vhat are you saying?"


    "Use what''s left of your head, Yanis. He suspects one of us of orchestrating the upset."


    "None of you owe the others loyalty," Scratch said, "but siccing adventurers on one''s base could reasonably be called aggression. Couldn''t it... Yanis?"


    "Vhat!?"


    "You always had an uncertain position. If the god of evil were revived now, you certainly wouldn''t be his champion again. Better to remove the competition first. If it sets back overall progress... well you''re undying, you have the time."


    "Out of all zhe mad-!"


    "But the attack cost you your own throne. And my birdie tells me you''ve not been lying about that. So... Arlette."


    She smiled. "This oughta be good."


    "It oughta. You made it through relatively unscratched, didn''t you?"


    "Indeed, it seems the company has all but avoided my new centers of industry."


    He lowered himself beside her. "Could you be real sweet and outright state you had nothing to do with these attacks?"


    "There are ways around a lesser Kishin''s sight you know."


    "Do it anyway."


    She floated upward in her bubble. "I have not betrayed any of you. I have not revealed the location of your dungeons, and I have not empowered any land-dwellers to find them. What about you,


    Ravenous Lich?"


    "My conduct is not in question."


    "Vhy is zhat?"


    The lich sat silent for a moment. "Pinchin, God of Death and Undeath, yearns for the revival above all else. Never have I strategized against other dungeon lords, and you know this."


    "Pinchin can speak to him directly at any time," Arlette whispered to Scratch, "no willful communion necessary. It comes with being a lich, I suppose."


    "Sounds invasive."


    "But I shall prove my good will, and take away suspicion that we would benefit from this calamity. The shards of our fallen colleagues will be split evenly among us."


    "My my~!" Arlette gasped eagerly. "You will share with us your secret maps?"


    "I will. So that this may not slow the revival."


    Scratch was less than thrilled, but hid it behind a pensive expression.


    Yanis tried to slam the table, though his arms phased right through. "Zhat still does not answer our dilemma. Who set the company of heroes upon us?"


    "Isn''t it obvious?" Said Scratch. "Who isn''t here?"


    "Abyss."


    "There''s been no demise, shadowed or otherwise. His agents are still active, gathering items of power for him."


    "That rat, he never respected our ways."


    "Once we gather our strength, we should take collective action against us."


    -


    After the meeting, the lich''s apprentice, Podesto, came by to retrieve the goblin.


    "One more thing, Scratch." The lich said, now without the other dungeon lords to hear it. "Being less fractured, we shall achieve the revival much sooner."


    "Oh? You must be pleased."


    "Pinchin is most pleased. We must ensure the cooperation of the kishin that have inhabited these shards for so many years."


    "He has not reached out to them yet?"


    "Kishin have no inherent ability to find one another."


    "I thought Pinchin in particular may have had a special affinity for a number of them."


    Neither spoke for a few seconds. The utterly lifeless still air of the black spire hung around them like the absolute nothing and there was only a silent understanding of one another.


    "Anyway, what did you want to talk about?"


    "That was all for now."


    <hr>


    Great fortune and joyous tidings had come to the rural lands bordering Grienice.


    Despite the wars raging in and between their countries, the greatest heroes in the land had come together to vanquish their greatest enemies.


    And more importantly, liberally shower them with gold.


    "Heck Gereau, what''s this I found under your mattress?" A widower complained.


    "Ah, ma. Heck ma."


    What she was waving around wasn''t gold or even silver. It was a stack of cloth rectangles, baring the faces of subhumans.


    The woman''s grown son threw down his scythe and wiped his forehead. "It''s outlaw money."


    "Outlaw money! Has my son become an outlaw!? Ah, that your patre isn''t here to see this."


    "No, I bought it off the piggy twins at the market." He gently grabbed her hand and took it from her. "With this we''ll be able to buy you some new shoes. It breaks my heart seeing you break your back just trying to get around."


    "The piggy twins are layabouts, they''re hooked on the sweet crimson you know."


    "Yes ma, but they can help me buy off an outlaw merchant. We can get some shoes, and a decent roast for once." He counted the money before stuffing it into his garden overalls.


    She huffed and sat herself down on the rusted old plough. She wasn''t that old, but the years in the field had taken their toll.


    He looked with sad eyes at the frail woman she''d become.


    "What''s wrong with old bonny the cobbler, why don''t you got to her?" She said.


    "I would, but you know the cobbler''s been real busy helping everybody that done got the dungeon gold. All the beggars'' getting new things from the heroes'' charity and we regular folk have to get in line right along them."


    "Pauca from upriver got his parents a set of new shoes just last week, and his little nephew as well." She said.


    "...Pauca doesn''t keep to guild prices. He gives them twice the money under the table to jump the queue. We can''t afford that."


    "Damn him them, and his family." She spat on the floor. "Nothing left of equality and brotherhood, just as before the revolution there''s the haves and the have-nots."


    "Ma!"


    "You burn that outlaw money son. We''re civic minded people in this home. We''ll sell this barley above price, people don''t need it any less."


    He shook his head. It was hardly more civic minded in his mind to gouge prices above what the state had determined them to be. But they didn''t have much choice, if everybody else was doing it.


    Strano, he thought, it seems as if we have more gold than ever, but it feels as if we''re poorer than ever as well.

 Uncontrolled Demolition

    The warping circles were opened up again, and so the adventurers'' guild hall once again saw traffic.


    Adventurers from Reddington and Blurich entered and exited the building in a constant drip and various parties littered the winding passages between the crooked firebrick.


    Those that entered the main hall from the foyer could see Quiet diligently replacing the painted shields.


    There had been some rebellions, some redemptions, and a new member of the greater brood mother family. Since the adventurers were used for suppressing sectarian violence, the shields that told them who to kill needed updating.


    The little boy stood precariously on his teetering scaffold that still had the tree bark, lifting the heavy metal things off their hanging nails. They each contained a beautiful painted heraldry, signifying their colony. But only the heraldry displayed in the guild hall offered protection, the others could be exterminated freely by adventurers.


    "Quiet," Cobaline steadied his ladder, "there''s some adventurers here that want to register as a party. Could you sign them up?"


    "I think... Puella-"


    "Quiet," she whispered, "these guys are ''with the program''."


    The posse behind her were a somewhat smug looking gaggle of mercenaries. Rather well-equipped for beginning adventurers that were only just party-ing up. One of them had a piercing in her left ear, the sign of a dark sorcerer.


    "I''ll finish the board."


    -


    On the second floor, in a back-office, the paperwork could be completed and send to the main office via dove.


    It wasn''t a lot of paperwork, and Quiet had them scribble their names into the form without much ado about it.


    The dark sorceress scanned the folders, candles and mat glass window idly as the process unfolded. "Is there even such a thing as a ''day goblin''?"


    Quiet didn''t answer her, occupied with her team mate and where his signature went.


    "Never heard the term day goblin before in my life. And the goblins you''re having people slay are just your kin that turned against you, right? So if they''re not ''abhumans'' then neither are you."


    Quiet turned to answer her, but his voice was stuck in his throat and he mumbled a bit.


    "What?"


    "He said it''s nunnofya business and to stop asking questions." Her comrade laughed heartily.


    She huffed.


    "All of us are with the program," another said, "we knew the thieves'' guild was crooked when we signed up. Let''s not develop any high-minded ideals now."


    "I didn''t say that I did."


    Quiet looked up at them from under his brow. The sorceress and the mercenary were feeling each other out, they hadn''t traveled together for long and did not really know each other. But they knew what kind of people they were. Streetwise, self-interested, not bound to any taboo. The kind Scratch likes.


    He gathered enough of himself to produce something intelligible. "If you are with the program, you know that the Promise hides a dungeon. The survival of the Promise, and your stipend, relies on it staying hidden."


    The sorceress tapped her nails against her teeth. "It''s not... a wyrm shard, is it?"


    "A what?" Their leader said.


    "A dungeon core. They''re called wyrm shards ''cause they say they rained down on the world after the Great Wyrm was defeated by the first hero. A dark sorcerer would gladly give their left arm- no, the kings of this world would start a crusade to get their hands on a wyrm shard if the location was leaked."


    "It''s a dungeon." Quiet said, now quite sternly. "And a smuggling route. What are enrolling into the adventurers'' guild for anyway?"


    "It''s all part of the shadow bandit''s playbook, we''re keeping an eye on adventurer activity. Blurich may have ended the war, but that doesn''t mean there''s no bad blood. Some religious fundamentalists even blame the Promise for what happened."


    "What happened?"


    "Don''t you get any troubadours here?" The sorceress raised an eyebrow. "Heiligdom is gone."


    <hr>


    "Gone?"


    Scratch was at the underground market when he received the news.


    "Zhere is still much uncertainty on zhe cause. Dietrich Stahl vere at zhe holy city to confront zhe papacy, zhere was a confrontation und... vell..."


    The baronet looked up and waved at some guests he had been expecting. "What? They trashed the place?"


    "In a manner of speaking."


    -


    The guests were bandit leaders from the border regions.


    "Bondlieu, Felya, welcome. Thank you for coming."


    The fleet captain looked around him with a look of slight concern. The goblin''s enterprise had grown beyond his ability to grapple with. Even with the smuggling routes opened up again, the black market was filled with dozens upon dozens of thieves, bandits, dark sorcerers, and dungeon masters. At least half the world''s criminal organizations had some presence there right at that moment.


    "You will be re-united with your collateral once you leave," Scratch said, misunderstanding the reason for his furrowed brow.


    "Something to keep hostage so we don''t cause trouble, is that it?" The other bandit leader said.


    "It''s mostly to make sure you can pay up if you lose money day trading." He gestured to the stock exchange, where a few haggard goblins were frantically exchanging certificates with frantic buyers and sellers of various shares and options for criminal activities the continent over. "So... yes. But you''re not here for gambling."


    Before he''d gotten his cue, Noss proudly pulled the veil off the display. Exposing the shiny metal underneath.


    "Ah- Thank you Fleder. These are the boy''s inventions. Magical artillery."


    Count Bondlieu picked up one of the blocky metal contraptions on the table. It was surprisingly light. "Mythril?"


    "Lightweight aluminum." Noss said. "Extracted from zhe bauxite using lightning magic. Zhese are energy-ingesting-und-excreting-artificial-manabladders within a fully connected thaumatic circuit. Activated via trigger."


    "Spellrods that don''t require mana." Scratch simplified.


    "What do you mean?"


    "If you just..." the baronet gestured towards the straw dummy a few paces away.


    Bondlieu aimed at the target. The metal spellrod fit perfectly in his hand, using it was intuitive. His index finger simply closed over the release trigger and...


    *FWOMP*


    A bolt of elemental fire shot out of the box and into the straw, leaving a deep burn mark.


    "No magic training necessary. No mana reserves. You drum up some junkies with sweet crimson and put these in their hands, you''ve got a mage squadron." Scratch said.


    "The nobility is in disarray... with enough of these we could take the throne in a week." Felya said.


    "We''re not a rebellion, captain," Scratch said disapprovingly. "You won''t be able to drum up the capital for that sort of thing in this house unless you''ve got a real good monetization plan."


    "...How much are these anyway?"


    "Zhe price of zhe materials, production, profit margin... if ve vere still dealing in precious metals zhese vould cause logistical concerns on transport of zhe currency. Naturally zhe artillery vith more reserves or more powerful gems are larger und require more funds."


    "What about that one?" Bondlieu stepped up to the largest spellrod. A massive gem cannon sticking out of the stripped framework of a carriage.


    Scratch laughed. "That one''s just for show."


    "Zhe inscription on zhe diamond is zhat of a dark sorcery spell." Noss explained. "It strips zhe victim of zheir inherent form, so zhat any subsequent polymorph may become permanent."


    "If you have a clear shot and this much mana at your disposal, you can kill anyone it would work on three times over. It doesn''t win you the fight, just lets you humiliate your opponent."


    Bondlieu recoiled from the machine but Felya got a sparkle in his eyes. "Dark sorcery at our fingertips..."


    "If you start making out with the machine, you buy it." Scratch said.


    -


    Eventually, some were able to come to an agreement and a contract was signed.


    It wouldn''t have surprised the fleet captain if it had been sulfuric, signed in blood. Or maybe the implication that this outlaw could enforce written agreements without any sort of demonic magic was scarier still.


    They left on good terms.


    -


    "Your magic guns are making us more money than my bank is." Scratch said to the vampire afterwards.


    Noss looked at him counting his promissory notes. "Pity to hear your efforts vere for naught."


    "Well... no. It''s only because they can pool their resources with investments that they can even pay these prices. It''s just to say we personally profit. The only other source of direct pocket money is when I can get seignorage on a growing money market."


    "Zhen I should be entitled to some of it, should I not?"


    Scratch stopped counting.


    "It''s fine. Keep your money, zhe undead have no use for it."


    He breathed out and continued. "Don''t mind if I do." Then he stopped again and looked at the vampire questioningly.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Noss looked back at him and neither said anything for a short moment.


    "Zhe mysteries of magic." He finally explained. "Zhat is vhat I pursue. I have come to realize zhat my master did not put me here to be rid of me, but to help me. A dark sorcerer must make zheir own magic after all, und I have completed fruitful vork vith goblin metals und witchy ritual."


    "...you did get replaced though." Scratch was quick to remind him. Noss had a heart defect that made him useless in defending himself.


    Noss dismissed the slight with a gesture. "A master sorcerer must alvays have an apprentice. He vill have taken on zhis Podesto to gather resources und steal secrets vithout having to take his eye off his own black library. Zhe replacement is necessitated by my departure, not zhe ozher vay around... I feel sorry for zhe boy, really."


    He was in a smug, self-satisfied mood, so Scratch decided not to disturb it any further. "Maybe it''s time to get an apprentice of your own. Any of my kids-"


    "No, not hobgoblins, not enough magical potential. A subhuman vould have to be of at least... vell anyvay I am not ready to be a master yet. Zhe Promise protects my library, und I am still young."


    It was worth a shot. Scratch gave up and went back to the money. "Your parents must be proud, completing your degree at only 80 years old." He said out of hand.


    "Nay, I am in hiding from my ancestry. Zhe lich took me in vhen I had to flee from zheir mutual battle for dominance... I can only hope zhey somehow had ended up in Heiligdom vhen it vas desintegrated."


    "Oh..."


    The boy had suddenly dropped something heavy into the conversation and it made for an awkward silence.


    "Desintegrated?" Scratch asked. "You said it had gotten trashed."


    "No... zhat is vhat you said."


    <hr>


    The landscape was a perfectly flat dirt surface, stretching out up and over the horizon. One could believe themselves to have set foot on an empty, featureless, planet if it weren''t for the gentle peek of a mountain range over the meridian far north. The only reminder of a world with geography.


    "We never suspected Dietrich possessed this much..." Beatrice searched for the right word.


    "Firepower." Scratch said, in a daze.


    They wouldn''t have meeten up again, if it weren''t for the weaponsmith''s clash with the highest ecclesiarch escalating so tremendously.


    "Power." She repeated. "It might have been some magic by the church father..."


    "And Stahl is nowhere to be found either?"


    "We don''t know."


    Either fled the scene, or blown up with the rest of them. Scratch bit his thumb.


    "Do you know more about this?" Beatrice asked him. "The dungeon lords... Abyss-?"


    "This Dietrich, he was an engineer?" Scratch said.


    "Hai. Yes. He told us he used to assemble mech figurines in his last life."


    "Right. In his last life, played with robot toys, in this life he got to be lead robot designer. In your past, you read a romance novel and *that* became your reality. The same with the others, right?"


    She looked over her shoulders at the other reincarnates spread out over the nothing. They had paired up or walked away to contemplate the enormity of the catastrophe.


    Donato who always wanted to be a musician, Adel who got to live the life of his video game avatar, the rest... "Yes." She said, "it''s the same with the others."


    "This place was made for you. Specifically for the likes of you." Scratch said. "It finally makes sense... The incessant ranking and classification of everything, the feudal titles with none of the land tenures... adventuring..." he kicked the dirt, "it''s all a great murder theme park."


    "This isn''t what we wanted!"


    "It''s what you got!" He turned to look her right in the eyes. "None of the gods of this world can give you what you got. A human soul is not that strong, a god has to rip out a party of their divinity to make you like this."


    "...I know that... I..."


    "Someone is making all of this happen, if nothing changes they''ll create more living nukes like Abyss or Dietrich. You *need* to find the author, reach out to them somehow."


    She nodded. "But what about Abyss?"


    "Abyss too, and- Christ, Benesant. She''s wreaking havoc on Earth right now."


    It was too many problems to count.


    "Benesant is affecting our home world?"


    "Yeah she... I don''t know, has gone inter-dimensional or something." He looked away, it was probably more worry than she could handle right now.


    But she cheered up instead. "Then she might be able to find him for us!"


    "N...no. Actually, you should focus on Abyss first. Yes. That''s the more immediate threat. I think the Ravenous Lich keeps track of dungeon core locations. If you can defeat him, that may lead you to him." *The last thing I need is for you to cosy up to that pig.*


    -


    The heroes had begun noticing tiny dots on the horizon.


    Other attendents of the eerie wake pacing out over the dirt to feel the distance.


    It had only just begun to become pilgrimage to all Benesant''s faithful in this world.


    "Should we go to meet them?" Adel suggested.


    "Scratch-san is not welcome in this country." Beatrice came to say. "Klumpus, could you warp him home?"


    The wizard nodded. "Be safe, friend, you are one of the few we can trust."


    Scratch smiled pleasantly, as if there was no awkwardness, before being taken away by the spell''s light.


    <hr>


    Warping back and forth, Scratch had missed dinner.


    "Where were you?" Quiet asked, warming up some leftover sausage and bread in a pan.


    "Pfff... I don''t even want to- why don''t you tell me about *your* day?"


    "I got to talk to Puella six times today!"


    "Is that right?"


    "And I enrolled some shadow bandits into the adventurers'' guild."


    He brought over the meat and toast and Scratch began to eat it with his fingers.


    Quiet looked at him. "Did you find Second?"


    "Hew''s shomwhere near the outer colonies." He said with his mouth full. "It''s only us now Quiet. You''re my last brother."


    "No... we''ve got allies."


    "We''ve got enemies too. Kato Ken, Benesant and her beneteens.... the Blurich nobility wants us dead and so does half the Reddington court." He chewed pensively. "There''s rebellious broodmothers and ambituous thieves, overly investigative constables, and evil gods."


    Quiet nodded and pretended to recognize everyone being summed up. "So you can make them fight each other?"


    "What?"


    He looked a bit startled and embarrased not having guessed Scratch''s thoughts. "Oh... never mind."


    Scratch wiped his hands with a tablecloth. "Why did you say that?"


    "Well it''s just that... we''re always making our enemies fight each other, right? With the adventurers, and the orcs... other tribes..." Quiet''s voice sort of disappeared as he shrunk back, ever less confident.


    "I... well maybe. Maybe I got tunnelvision on this nationbuilding business. Maybe we''re still in that space, where a spanner in the works can only benefit us... You''ve got a keen mind Quiet."


    The boy grinned so wide it could split his face. "I do!"


    "Could you get the writing paper from the study? I''m going to write a letter."


    <hr>


    Pinchin''s voice was a screeching chalk. It would''ve hurt Ritter''s ears if still had the weakness of flesh.


    Sitting alone on his throne, in the middle of his darkness, it was all that filled his world.


    "Yes lord," he said. "I will... yes, my lord."


    The evil god of death and undeath was not entirely blind to the affairs of the living. He could see the adventurers attacking his undead valleys, the farmsteads overrun by his hordes, and the protective barriers of the church that kept them away.


    He could see that they were getting weaker.


    "No my lord, I can not say."


    As always, Ritter offered no insights of his own to his patron. But internally, he could see the gears shifting into place.


    Too much gold.


    Apparently, there was such a thing.


    The adventurers were no longer motivated by their guild''s paltry sums for skeleton extermination. The rising prices in all things had farms bestowed by the royals into shelter for the bestowee''s entire extended family. And the generational riches of the church had lost their value, so that cuts had to be made on its charitable services.


    Scratch was conquering the world with money. Not by accumulating it, but by poisoning it.


    A crackle and a thunderclap interrupted Pinchin''s seering demands. The heroes had reached the tower.


    Ritter''s skeletal hands intertwined. He had seen them coming, but done nothing. It wasn''t often that mortals were able to withstand the omnipresent aura of death.


    "I have tasked Podesto with awakening the zombie dragons. They will not come within these walls."


    But they already had. His apprentice was dead, and so were the mightiest of undead, the zombie dragons.


    The lich stood up. "Then I will stand guard at the shard, I- ... yes my lord. Yes, I shall seek them out."


    -


    The lich''s black library was protected by many a curse. Mental, physical, and spiritual attacks rained down on any poor soul that dared touch his secret knowledge without permission.


    But Beatrice and her friends weren''t looking for spells.


    "No my lord, I do not know how they could know about this place." The lich entered the space by filling it up with his black smoke. It served to compound the death aura and blind them, but a sudden flash of light magic swept away the inky blackness and exposed the minotaur skull.


    The adventurers stood radiant, covered in protective magic, amidst the jade tiling of the map room.


    Parchment and paper were strewn about, lecterns knocked over, and the towering shelves emptied.


    They readied their weapons at the towering lich. "Is that a sorcerer or a monster?"


    "Both. Please use Turn Undead."


    "Turn Undead!"


    A nation''s worth of mana poured into holy and healing spells, eating away at the lich''s various protections and throwing up the strewn around paper into a whirlwind of forbidden knowledge.


    He was so enraged that he could not speak. Rather than complicated sorcery, he produced elemental death until it was so thick in the air that the paper could no longer move and hung still in the air.


    The violent sounds became stifled by the oppressive aura. The wood contorted into deathly visages. The jade began to crumble.


    The lightshow of opposing energies then exploded when Adel, the edelweiss hero, swung his sword and cut the tower in two.


    Sound returned as Ritter''s death escaped the room.


    All around them, the desolate sky was visible and the rushing air cleared the last of the smoke.


    The lich had been split at the waist. Both he and the tower remained suspended in place, like a painting that had been vandalized by a single stroke of grey paint.


    Then, the lich began to chant.


    Magical circles formed around him and ever larger behind.


    "This guy is the real deal!" Adel said in a panic.


    He drifted out into the winds while casting, but his silhoutte became only larger in their world as countless shadowy arms spread out from his insides and filled the room with grasping talons.


    "As if I''d let you!" The wizard summoned his own swirling runes of arcane energy, which faced Ritter''s and tried to unmake them. "This will stall his attack. Hurry up and finish him off."


    Adel jumped and rolled to avoid the arms. "How can we? The skeletal body is just elemental death. Where is his core?"


    "We just need to stall him." Beatrice yelled over the sound of magic. "Until we find the map of the wyrm shards."


    Ritter''s magic faltered. A fraction of a second he lost focus hearing learning their purpose. That was all it took for Klumpus'' magic to catch up to his and unravel the spell.


    With a sudden leap, Adel was in front of him midair. "Lightning Charge!"


    He shot through his enemy like a projectile, bisecting him the other way. Many paces behind him, he turned around, his feet finding purchase on some invisible resistance in the air that crackled with lightning. He bended his knees and shot at him again.


    This time, his attack was deflected. The lich''s shadowy talons disappeared and instead chains of elemental metal were conjured around him as a shield.


    Not slowed down in the slightest, Adel, the wind magic user, turned around and charged. Over, and over again, a bolt of lighting that was really a person chipped at the lich outside the tower. Keeping him occupied.


    "Keep searching." Klumpus said. "I''ll use Walgis'' Mirror World to trap him."


    "What about Adel-"


    "KEEP SEARCHING!"


    -


    Ritter had enough clarity of mind to notice space and time becoming enchanted around him. But while fending off the constant attacks from the Edelweiss hero, he couldn''t follow how.


    Until he suddenly couldn''t feel the other heroes'' presence anymore.


    His lifeforce vision detected only a grey, lifeless visage of the wizard and friends in the room below.


    Another lighting charge. The gafly was still real.


    "ENOUGH"


    He regenerated the shattered bones, each in their own skeletal body.


    At first, the new numerical disadvantage didn''t slow the flying hero down. He hacked and blasted the liches away with ample magical power. But his movement slowed down as began to notice the many curses clinging to his weapons. Like worms the self-sustaining magical patterns crawled up his arms and tried to drill through his protective buff.


    He began to fall out of the sky. Effectively retreating from the clash to tend to his affliction.


    Ritter did not pursue him. He turned his attention to the library, opened up to outside. "Never in a thousand years have I..."


    But his elemental attacks did not reach the other invaders. They disappeared into an infinite distance behind which the ruined floor and its ruiners were a projection upon the firmament. "I see."


    The tower was inverted. A mirror image.


    Every attack he could launch, any magic he could try, would fizzle out in an infitesimal fraction of endless space. There was no core of the spell that could be destroyed, no lock to open.


    "Twelve hundred years."


    Adel had clear the curse and came rushing at him from behind.


    This time, he was quicker. He reached back and grabbed the young man''s face with his enormous skeletal hand.


    "For twelve hundred years I''ve had to hide from your kind."


    "Gah!" Adel yelled as he got flung around by his neck and his skull impacted something hard.


    "I''ve had to fight." He bashed him again. "I''ve had to kill." Cracks began to from in the emptiness of space. "I''ve had to enslave myself to an evil god to stay alive. But the more I protect myself..." He hammered the crack another time.


    Adel tried to struggle loose, but with the elemental death flowing directly from the lich''s palm, he was closer to dead than he was to life.


    "The more determined you get to DESTROY me!" With every word he pummeled the opening until it shattered.


    The mirror world broke up into a kaleidoscope of shards, reflecting an infinite recursion of dead heroes and furious liches.


    He broke out with an open talon outstretched towards the burglars, and his death grip was just about to close around the wizard''s neck. But the party was swallowed up by light and disappeared into a warp spell.


    Gone.


    By the looks of it, they had gotten what they came for.


    Liches do not have lungs, and alongside the many other venal pleasures denied to the undead, can not feel the catharsis of a healthy scream.


    Yet ritter made some sort of noise, as the bricks of the floor above separated from each other and were flung across the landscape. A million and one comets of rage.


    <hr>


    Area Boss: Felya


    Type: Bandit


    Threat Level: B


    Reward: The title of Count Riftwood


    The Riftwood is under the control of a brutal elven outlaw.


    His bandits extort traders for traveling fees and have made it impossible for the king''s army to travel through Riftwood. Raiding parties send by Felya have burgled various treasures from nobility.


    Their base of operation is somewhere in the denser forest north of the mountain, but the exact position has not yet been located. Currently, there is a secondary reward for marking the camp on a map.


    Adventurers must take heed that any camp within the woods is at risk of a bandit ambush.


    While searching for the bandit camp, one may encounter bandits, drop bears, and ents.


    NOTICE: please remove this entry. With the discovery of the bandit city within the forest, Felya is now considered a military matter and the guild is asked to back off.

 Belonging

    The lich''s empty eye sockets drank in the sight of the digging effort.


    Everywhere in the forest, hills, and townships of the Promise now stood these ramshackle scaffolds. Pulley systems to rake up buried wyrm shards.


    Scratch had been very expedient in organizing the project. So much so that there could be no doubt that he had foreseen the situation.


    "Let''s get a move on. We need this thing on the pile before someone claims eminent domain." He turned to Ritter. "Technically, this isn''t part of our barony."


    "The adventurers'' guild has made public the location of the second segment."


    "Yes. I mean it''d look pretty suspicious if we had started digging before that, right?"


    "How does it look now?"


    "..."


    "Humans will find a way to claim what they want regardless. Their ''laws'' will adjust to suit their needs."


    Scratch tapped the side of his nose. "We''re talking about the Reddington nobility here. They''ve got power. Battalions of it. What they want isn''t the shards, they just don''t want anyone else to have them."


    "Which means you must defend them. Your strategy of cooperating with the human regime must end, and you must prepare for war."


    "No, I''m giving them away."


    -


    It hardly took an instance for the goblin patriarch to be dragged miles upward by the lich''s magic, until the highest clouds were below them and floating islands could be seen dotting the stratosphere.


    "What would you say to the kishin of death and undeath when he is to find out you stole his possessions?"


    Scratch gasped for oxygen in the thin air. "I''m talking to him now, right? I just want to say... legal property... de facto property... it''s not-" The long, circuitous justification he had prepared in his head choked on the mesosphere winds. "I''m not really, okay!? Not really!"


    They were on the ground again and he fell to his feet.


    "I am not among your sycophantic drove. Do not play games with me."


    "Right," scratch panted, getting good air back in his lungs, "you got it boss."


    "You will not rid yourself of this treasure?"


    "If I claim these shards as my property, this whole country and the next one will come bearing down on me, you''re right about that. So we''re pledging them as a donation to the reconstruction of Heiligdom. I''ve already made the arrangements. The family that has donated the most money into rebuilding the holy city will be awarded the pile of dungeon cores once it''s finished."


    "I see. And it will never be finished."


    "Not for a long time. This way, the wealthy houses become natural allies in making sure the prize isn''t expropriated before its turn, you see? Their resources can go towards fighting each other over the contest."


    It wasn''t visible on his osseous face, but Ritter''s attitude softened. Well, that''s alright then! Very clever. Here I am threatening you when you''ve taken such good care of my lands and my apprentice. Spirits sure run high when it comes to the forbidden world, let''s both take learning from it.


    "...Right."


    "And you can guarantee the servants of the gods will go along with your little arrangement?"


    "It suits my image as a former monster trying to earn redemption in Benesant''s eyes. As long as the pile stays in one place and nothing much happens to it..."


    "Let''s ensure nothing does. I am giving you my last death knight."


    "You really don''t have to-"


    But the lich had already summoned forth his servant. "My tower is destroyed, and so were most of its creatures. I''m taking your example and focusing on stealth over defensibility from now on. Adel here can guard the wyrm''s remains."


    The figure was one Scratch had spoken to days earlier. The reincarnated hero that had been with Beatrice''s group. He was a pale, exsanguinated corpse with tense muscles clenching his batons as if he were enraged.


    The edelweiss hero. He was the only one of them I could kill before they fled. He should be more powerful now that he is undead."


    "...Lovely."


    <hr>


    Adel was a famous face and clearly undead, so to properly guard the public treasure he had to be disguised.


    ''One of captain Beauregarde''s men, lent to us for security'' Scratch had said.


    The knight family was under his thumb and their home far enough away that nobody visiting would have any expectation of recognizing the guard.


    With his face covered and weapons drawn, he stood as a statue in front of the jagged crystal. All the more like a religious idol with the cathedral-esque dome now erected over the tall pile.


    An oblong vertical tent of wood and straw had gone up to protect them both from the rain, the man and the treasure, and the wide open arches that let in the light made it seem like a public place of worship.


    And suitably, too, the thing gained pilgrims.


    -


    "Your highness. duke Dichtershire." Constable Harkness quickly bowed in shock.


    "Don''t- I am incognito." The man said.


    He was a tall and broad man, elevated among mortal men by a superior bloodline and a mighty mustache. It seemed rather silly to expect the public not to recognize him, but there he was in civilian clothes.


    Really, incognito meant the pomp and circumstance was dialed down today.


    "I have come to marvel at your generous collection!" He wiggled his mustache jovially. "I heard that the very day my daughter and her friends uncovered the location of these dungeon cores, the baronet of the Promise had dug them up. Isn''t that quick thinking?"


    "The baronet would have sold tickets. Just to see the pile. If I hadn''t weighed in."


    The duke''s mood somewhat soured. "Lesser nobles have a fondness for gold. My barons that were so desperate and cloying for more stipend now spend hand over fist on extravagance. Suddenly, this goblin nest finds defenders among the men of influence in this realm. Can you explain that?"


    Harkness looked at him in shock. "If the Baronet is spending bribes. Your highness. I swear I will stop at nothing. To find-"


    "Save your energy, save it. I''m sure if you were capable of such you already would have."


    The masked defender moved its head looking around the hall, sending on of the visiting parties into nervous giggles.


    "The house of Dichtershire has no voice at the royal court... We are in decline. My only heir has lost her marriage prospects and now wanders the realms as an adventurer. Everywhere new fonts of power are appearing, money lenders and their paper, criminal syndicates as populous as mine own capitol... do you have any idea what your master''s scheme will bring about?"


    "I..."


    The duke looked off into the distance. "It''s already happening, ambitious houses spending fortunes on the new holy city. They consider the money an investment, and if their donations don''t measure up, they must spend more not to lose that investment. Do you understand? What choice does a man have between spending an additional 500 gold to make up the difference and losing the 500,000 he has already committed? And so they will bid against each other, more and more, in great excess of even the value of this... monstrosity. Eventually, all the pious houses will be impoverished or gone. What will be the levers of power then? Huh?"


    The constable straightened himself out and put on a dutiful expression. "Your highness. If I may... My own family has lost prestige as well. After I''m gone it may be disbanded all together. However. I believe that our honor outlives us. Order and justice will be victorious. In the end."


    The duke laughed. "Look at you. You have no idea what goes into the making of a nation, do you? Old fool." He clenched his fists, and fire came out. "Even now I could reduce this town to char until six meters down into the soil. It is power that will be victorious in the end."


    "...You would destroy the Promise?"


    "The current politics do not permit it. But that is all the power he has... politics, gold, secrets. These are mere illusions held up by might and magic. A king that can see the threat he poses will strip him naked of his garbs of title and property. That is why he will seek to control the levers of true power before he reveals himself."


    "Then you agree with me. That this ''day goblin'' is just another monster. No different-"


    "Pay attention constable!"


    All around could hear him, and the guard fixed his masked gaze upon them.


    "This mercenary is only the beginning. The baronet will soon try to use his resource and influence to obtain a real military force, loyal to him over the realm. This must be stopped. Do not let him build up true power before his nature is revealed. Do I have your cooperation on this."


    "I- you have."


    "Good. You will be our man on the inside. My men will be in contact with you."


    "Yes, sir."


    -


    The doppelganger didn''t break character until he was miles away from the goblin town.


    Then he let out a manic cackling.


    "Who would have thought that the best use of this august form would be not within the royal walls, but among the chattering streets of this faraway business?"


    "Most delightful as well..." he shadow chuckled, "that Severus Harkness, who is so in love with justice, will be our accomplice in acquiring all those shards for the forces of evil."


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Come then." The doppelganger said. "Let us report our dastardly doings to lord Abyss."


    "He will be most pleased!"


    <hr>


    The doppelgangers had not escaped the notice of Lydia''s spies however, and she was soon able to whisper it in Scratch ear.


    "I see..." he said, keeping one eye on his guest, "no... let''s keep this on the down low for now." He touched her wolven hair as she stepped back.


    "A verevolf." The countess held up her nose. "I zhought I smelled vitchbeasts."


    "Miss Fleder, how can I help you?" Scratch said in a placable tone. "I would offer stabling, but most visitors are... differently mobile."


    Since the end of the war, with the breaking down of legitimate business, the smuggling node that was the dungeon''s cavern had exploded in size and activity. Besides ships and warping mages, there was now a tall, long platform casting a shadow from the forge''s orange light.


    Bandit kings and corrupt nobles landed their wyverns there to trade stock or forbidden artifacts, but countess Fleder had brought a flying carriage. A black thing with leathery wings, pulled by black steeds with evil red eyes and bat wings of their own.


    "What are these? Vampire horses?"


    "Zhere''s no need. I vill not be here for long, I vill simply retrieve mine son and ve vill leave togezher."


    She stepped out onto the flight deck and paused for a moment, taking in the scale of the industry further on in the cavern. The clanging of metal reverberated strongly through the cave''s mouth, and the platform workshops and machines towered high stacked on top of each other as they were. The hive of heat, noise, and light had grown larger than any count''s castle.


    A hint of a frown formed on her pale white face.


    "This son of yours... would be another vampire?"


    Whatever pondrance she had had sprung from her mind as she fell out at him. "Don''t play stupid, dungeon master. I have my informants. Noss Fleder is a known figure in these parts. Now that his father has been ousted, he and I can return to Fleder castle and be a family again. Would you try to stop me? Where are you keeping him?"


    Scratch sighed. He gestured at his retinue to move the carriage to the side. "Ma''am, you are free to look around the premises, I will not close my doors to any friend of the guild. But I can not guarantee your son will be there." He showed her the stairs, but she leaped off the flight deck and transformed into a monstrous bat.


    -


    Roaming around the dark shadows of the stalactites, casting her beaming vision upon the forge and market and shore, countess Fleder terrorized the people and dragon bats for hours afterwards.


    Lydia and Scratch sat on the drapes of the devil altar observing her until deep into the night.


    Even when day broke, she folded herself between the stone rather than come down, planning to resume her search the next night.


    "Is Noss hiding?" Lydia asked.


    "He''s having a sleepover in Eston." Scratch said. "The countess invested a lot of money into being a thieves'' guild confidante, I''m sure he''d understand if he knew the value of money."


    "But why? I mean... she may be an arrogant snob, but so is he."


    He looked at her, staring wistfully into the the dark cracks of the cave''s ceiling.


    Lydia had been denied the support of a family, Noss had thrown it away.


    "I can''t speak for Noss, but the lich told me vampires almost never turn someone of the same breeding as them." Scratch said. "They live on hierarchy. If one isn''t stronger than the other, it turns to fighting. The Fleders were both from Count families, so..."


    "A loveless home, huh?" She yawned. "You wouldn''t expect it from a highborn family."


    "It''s love that sparked the trouble," he said, "the count wanted his wife to share eternity with him. But making her a vampire made her his enemy. Since Noss is spawned from the both of them, I''m sure he expects the same thing to happen."


    "That''s tragic... hey Scratchie?"


    "Hey?"


    "I think we''d make a great vampire couple."


    "You say that because you''d be top of the hierarchy, don''t you!?"


    She laughed and tumbled on top of him. Pinning him. "I''m tired."


    "Let''s not go to sleep here. A devil altar can do nasty things."


    "Scratchie I''m tiiiired." She pouted. "We''ve been up all night."


    "We''ll cozy up in Lacrima''s old hut, it''s close by, and Alpheba''s out."


    "Yeah~"


    <hr>


    Lacrima had had a hideaway on the Promise''s underground docks in her time in exile while she still had her human form.


    The surrounding boardwalks were still busy day and night with goblins loading and unloading sloops of forbidden and stolen wares. Mundane smuggling goods that still fared from over the muddy


    smuggling routes through the dungeon and onto the merchants vessels of Eston.


    With the shadow banks and high priced warp smuggling, one would almost have forgotten about the enterprise. But Barbara''s children were still there, forgotten or not, and they continued on with the only life they had ever known.


    "Who''s in charge of these boys?" Scratch said. "I haven''t been here in ages, who''s the broodmother?"


    "Lucky keeps an eye out," Lydia said.


    "Lucky? Oh the alchemist. They take that?"


    "Why not?"


    "As an apprentice he spent a lot of time helping his master abort goblin births. You can kinda smell it on him as a goblin. You know they''d feed the woman something and then they''d cut up-"


    "Hey shush, you''re wasting the mood." She quickly opened up the cabin to rush him in, but it wasn''t empty.


    -


    The hut was creaky, quickly deteriorating, and made of wood.


    There was one large open space, normally somewhat divided into sections by carpets and furniture. All of that was cleared out of the way now for a runic circle sprawled in blood.


    A bare-chested woman was bound to a pole in the middle, her eyes rolling madly, and hooded figures encircled her, chanting a soft solemn hymn.


    As the two burst in all looked up.


    "Ai. Sorry." Lydia closed the door. Then, less than a second later, opened it up again. "Wait just one minute. What is going on here?"


    "Youthere." Scratch said, "you better have a damn good explanation for this."


    One of the smaller figures threw off his hood, revealing the incubus Scratch had formed from Lydia''s mind. His eyes still covered by his bangs but his mouth a wicked grin. "Master! As always I am your humble servant. This service... a surprise! Nothing that you wouldn''t approve of... I..." the familiar began to hesitate as Scratch took control over his arm and brought the nail of his thumb directly over his eye ball.


    "Go on..." Scratch said, "you got Cyclophan not to tell me about it, how and what for?"


    "Don''t bully your little friend so much honey." A voice said.


    It was the bound woman, but she spoke with a voice not her own.


    "After all, we took away their goddess of indulgence. It''s only fair we... give them something in return."


    "Dither." Scratch said.


    "It is me. And I owe you more than I believed. My power grows with every addict, with every doped up junkie, every gambler, every flash-crazed John. Your guild, Scratch, grants my this extasy. In return I will gladly store and distribute the stolen power of the succubi."


    "Not... the goddess of love?" Lydia gasped.


    "The goddess of lust! And sweet crimson!"


    "You see, master?" Youthere said, now more confident. "This was your plan! To bring human beings under your power using addiction. This power becomes more tangible with a cult to the goddess.


    Possessed thralls can receive the power of incubi, birth goblin spawn, and do it all with eager devotion! This is what we need to grow your power and legend!"


    The incubus'' hand moved away from his retina but then slapped him across the cheek. After that, Scratch released control.


    "If it were my plan, I would have known about it. Who are all these people?"


    They began taking off their hoods.


    "My name is Reddan, and this is-"


    "Don''t- don''t go all introducing yourselves."


    "These are the acolytes to our new religion." Youthere summarized.


    "They shall bring me the vessels for- hey!" Dither''s explanation was cut short by Lydia cutting short her bindings.


    "W-what happened? Where am I?" The girl was emptied of divine presence and came her senses dazed and fearful.


    "It''s going to be alright, I''m taking you away from these people."


    "Master..." Youthere maintained his grin, "surely you agree that-"


    "You come with me."


    -


    They found a corner to speak.


    The eyes of the entire cult were on their backs, but they conjured up some illusion of a private conversation nonetheless.


    "Don''t you think if we give one god a creepy cult, they''ll all want one?" Scratch said.


    Youthere''s grin closed into a dark smile. "Is that your concern?"


    "No, my concern is you. I don''t know why I keep you around anymore. Every time I am about to have you killed you somehow talk circles around me."


    "Master, I assure you, I..."


    "And talk normal. Goddamnit. Nobody else sticks to the fantasy theme as hard as you do, they all grew up here but they can speak normally."


    "Excuse me?"


    He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just... tell me you can help yourself. Tell me you can stick around and advise me without trying to teach my kids how to bully each other, without putting the broodmothers against each other, and now... whatever all of this is?"


    "Your will is law, master. I shall keep no secrets."


    "And...?"


    ".... And only according to your will. I do know your will, I know you have the will to power master. You are not moved by petty concern for these pawns, you know how to use them for your ambition."


    Scratch licked his teeth underneath his lips. Youthere had fallen back on his favorite trick.


    At this point, he''d see him do it enough with Lydia and her countrymen. He''d even spelled it out for his master to copy.


    Know what their source of pride is, and appeal to it.


    Suddenly he saw the fun house mirror reflection of what his minion thought of him.


    Fun house...? No, it was accurate. But at an ugly angle he''d never seen before.


    "Okay..." he nodded, "okay. I suppose you still do have some use to me..."


    "Master?"


    "I was just thinking you''re a virus. But a virus I can use. Instead of you infecting all my institutions, you can go stink up the enemy''s camp."


    "Then, in Blurich..."


    "Blurich is out of the picture for the time being. Reddington belongs to me already. I''m sending you to Grienich." He looked at the cultists. "All of you''ve seen to much. Go outside, tell one of the trolls I send you to ''meet the dragon''. That''ll sort things out."


    <hr>


    The demon was already banished and the cultists already fed to the dragon in the underworld desert when Noss finally arrived back at the Harkness manor.


    "Your mum''s still here." Scratch said.


    "...Here?"


    "Down. In the cavern. Flapping about."


    "Vhat is vrong vith him?" The vampire asked.


    "Drunk." Quiet whispered.


    Scratch tried to find the last drip of wine at the bottom of his flask but he''d already found it a few minutes before. "Well my wife hates me after I didn''t execute the demon, again. This time after he kidnapped an Eston girl for mindrape. What''s your excuse?"


    The room was dark, all the hobgoblins were asleep either upstairs or in the underworld so only Quiet and Noss were there, neither drinking nor drunk.


    "I said what''s your excuse!?"


    "I must be downstairs," Noss said, "before zhe sunrise."


    "Stay here. I''m not thaaaat drunk." Scratch slurred as he slouched onto the couch. "Tell me... tell me about the kind of person you''re trying to be."


    Noss looked around. Quiet was adjusting the drapes for him.


    The room faced the west so they had time.


    "I do not know you for existential questions."


    "I just wanna know. Did you always want to be a sorcerer, or was that Ritter''s idea?"


    He decided to humor the goblin lord and sat down next to him. "Alvays? I don''t know. I knew I never vanted to be like my father, so captivated by vampirism zhat he forgot all ozher channels of power.


    Ritter... I suppose he vere my example on how to be more zhan ones'' birth."


    "Yeah, you got an example. People are telling me everybody is just trying to be like a hero. Like that''s everybody."


    "...I zhink zhat''s true. If not a real hero, zhen a vision of heroism at least. Zhis is a fun anecdote; in my home country all zhe little mortals vant to become inquisitors, but here in Reddington, zhey all vant to be dragon-slayers. Vhy? Different stories, different heroes, different ideals to live up to, huh? You must have a person you''re try to be as vell, don''t you Scratch?"


    Scratch looked at Quiet. "How ''bout you?"


    Quiet looked at the floor.


    "Folks like us, we don''t need to be anyone. We can just be." Scratch concluded. "Be whatever we need to be to get what we want, that''s our power."


    "Only tools are good or bad," Quiet quoted him, "a goblin doesn''t exist for a purpose."


    Noss gave a little befuddled laugh, briefly looking his age in dignity, "your goblins are birthed as slaves to your broodmothers. Zhat is hardly their creed."


    Scratch closed his eyes. "I can be a hypocrite if I want as well. That''s part of it."


    He dozed off, leaving Quiet and Noss to stare awkwardly at each other.


    -


    After a moment, Noss got up to leave.


    "Miss Vampire is still in the cave."


    "I vill stay at zhe basement level. Zhe rock vill insulate my life-force."


    He nodded.


    He nodded back.


    They had both nod.


    "...Anyzhing else I should know?"


    "Only... maybe it''s a secret."


    "Vhat is?"


    "Scratch told me... a guard on our payroll overheard... the crown will soon demand the money printers for themselves."


    "Oh.... Zhat''s it? Zhe fake money scam? Vell... you have enough money."


    "No. It''s not just about seignorage. The royal court has no concept of monetarism, they will print money to appease the agitated peasants and they''ll stoke hyperinflation worse than gold. If that happens, the entire thieves'' guild will collapse. Our fiat currency is their main store of value."


    "Do you understand any of zhe words you just said?"


    "... a little."


    "I''ll tell you vhat I know," Noss said as he moved to the door, "in zhis vorld, zhe title of ownership is meaningless unless you are able to defend it. You vant to protect zhose machines, you need to be villing to protect it vith force. Some hobgoblins are not enough."


    Quiet nodded enthusiastically. "I will have Puella fall in love with me. She''s a powerful mage, our children will be strong."


    "From zhe adventurers'' guild? She''s countess level, so zhe children vould be..."


    "Ogres."


    "Vell... good luck."


    "Yeah," Scratch mumbled in his sleep, "good luck, hah."


    <hr>


    Thracian Horse


    Family: demon


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 1 silver piece 2 gold pieces


    Thracian horses are the flying mounts of death knights, dark sorcerers, and other evil demihumans.


    You may recognize a thracian horse by its superficial similarity to the pegasus, as it possesses wings on its back. However, where the pegasus sports feathery wings, the thracian horse is all-black with leathery bat wings.


    The thracian horse feeds off raw meat, and will snap at the throat of the mount of its rider''s enemies. It seems that only the demonic master that summoned this horse is able to touch it without it trying to eat them, however, thracian horses have been observed turning on their master after being denied an outlet for their bloodlust for too long.


    Thracian horses can not be found in the wild, as they are demons summoned to serve a master. Adventurers that find an isolated thracian horse must be wary of its master returning to it, and should not linger around its corpse unless they desire a greater challenge.


    The canine teeth of the thracian horse are an alchemical ingredient and can be sold to licensed tradesmen at the adventurers'' guild.

 The son of-

    "The city is on lock-down." His second-in-command said. "Are you listening?"


    He wasn''t focused on her words, the documents in front of him were far more important.


    They were telephone logs.


    "Will you look at this? The journalist is in regular contact with the 500 number."


    "What?"


    "That''s the burner phone Galia''s carrying. They''re gaining a network."


    She slammed her hand on the desk in front of him to gain his attention. "We don''t have time for these antics. You''ve investigated that cell, they''re children playing make-believe. Please focus on what''s important to us, the syndicate is falling apart, the law is closing in."


    He leaned back and shook his head. "They''re magic. I saw it."


    "Magic." She said it out loud just to demonstrate the absurdity of the phrase.


    "This Sanadora person is their leader. She''s been burning our capo''s alive using some sort of fire spell, the side-kick can fly, and this Galia person does something with wood. They''re all ''old souls'', that''s what they call themselves."


    Her lip curled, she looked disgusted. "You''ve gone insane. Are you just going to ignore the national guard moving into the city?"


    "The old souls are the source behind all of this," he turned inward, not answering her question, "They''re unraveling the syndicate. They''re the ones that protected missus Pulitzer over here while she exposed us to the world."


    "If you actually went out on the street you''d hear everybody say it. We were stronger under the last boss."


    "I just need to find an in, learn how this magic works so we can anticipate it."


    "Some of them not even shy anymore, calling you a know-nothing rick kid with an MBA."


    He looked up. "Oh. You were saying something?"


    She turned away from him.


    "I don''t have an MBA." He said.


    "You''ve been running this family like a business." She opened the door to leave, the bass-boosted thumping of the night club becoming audible from down the hall, "so you better keep it running fortune 500 style. ''Cause there''s nobody left that''s going to stay loyal otherwise. Not when they''re sending in the army."


    <hr>


    Scratch stirred from his daydreaming. It had been ages since he''d reminisced about the old world.


    Or should I call it the ''real'' world''?


    The phone was ringing.


    He already regretted getting it installed in his house. It would have suited much better in Noss'' laboratory or at the devil altar. It wasn''t like it needed a land-line with the sympathetic magic linking it up.


    "Hold your horses." He told the inanimate machine as he made his way towards the back.


    The little bead was repeatedly smashed against the copper bell all the same, it wouldn''t stop while the machine was active.


    To open the telephone cabinet he had to retrieve the little key from his sleeve and unlock it.


    "Papa! The phone is ringing!" Ada yelled from the other room.


    "I heard!"


    He opened it up and turned the bell the other way. It was the only way to turn off the alarm, as the little wheel and string jerking around bead weren''t going to stop just because he''d lifted up the horn.


    They did not have that technology.


    He put the goat horn to his ear. "This is headquarters."


    "Papa. I''m stuck in the swirly woods again."


    "Who is this?"


    "Aww, papa, it''s Roland."


    "I don''t think so. My Roland is three years old already, he knows not to cross the border into swirly woods."


    "I was chasing some spies! They were too strong for hobgoblins to fight so we needed an ogre."


    "Spies?"


    "Yeah."


    "Are they with you now?" He gestured at Quiet, who happened to be passing by.


    "No I hacked them up."


    "You don''t need to chase anything into swirly woods, Roland. Once they''re inside, any direction they go is warped into spirals towards the obelisk. That''s, like, the only thing about the woods."


    "They could have gotten out if they had a compass."


    "Did you find any compass on them?"


    "...No."


    "It''s alright. Quiet will send a dog with a wind-rose."


    Quiet nodded.


    "In the meantime, sit tight, and cover the horn back up. I don''t want the next party to get starved there to find out they can call me from the obelisk."


    "Yes, Papa."


    The line went dead. Scratch put the horn back and repositioned the bell so that it would ring again the next call.


    "Our smartest ogre." He said.


    "There''s only three." Quiet responded. "Was it more spies?"


    "That''s what he called them. Armed to the teeth though, might as well call it an invasion force."


    -


    Quiet followed him onto the other room. "So then they''re going to send the army soon."


    "The king still hasn''t formally retracted our territorial status." Ada piped up from the next floor. "The crown can not take official action without risking sanction from our allied houses and the adventurers'' guild."


    Scratch pointed up to refer to her.


    "But eventually they will, right? Send in the army."


    "The court is motivated by power and legacy." Ada said, while Scratch fetched himself a drink, "current tensions are over economic power and the Promise controlling the de facto national currency.


    These factors drive the occasional spat, but they will not engender drastic measures until they become existential. As long as the soft power of the thieves'' guild remains a secret, the state can not justify taking action against us."


    Quiet looked at him questioningly.


    "They''d need a good excuse is what she''s saying." Scratch explained, "Ada has been working on her vocab for the diplomat position." He put his drinks down. "When it comes right down to it, clashing with the king''s men is the last thing I want. Loyalties tend to disappear when you''re up against state power. The whole operation would crumble."


    Quiet looked at his feet. "I thought... maybe... if there were another war... we could take some knight women prisoner..."


    "Not having much luck on the dating scene?"


    He looked away.


    "I have an idea. We''re showing our plans today, how about you come along and tell us a thing or two about the work you did?"


    <hr>


    The vampire countess had been the first to arrive at the council meeting.


    Once in a while she had to come down from the stalactites to remind the world she was not, actually, a monstrous bat, but a refined noble woman.


    She sat perfectly poised at the end of the stone table as if it were natural. As if she hadn''t spend the past months completely feral in a cavern.


    The room was not friendly architecture for vampires. To start with, it stood squarely on the surface when the Promise had access to the underworld. Secondly, there was no roof.


    Lacrima was a witch and worshiper to the moon goddess. Her temples were open to gaze upon the heavenly bodies.


    She sat sideways on the side of the wall, peering into the room. She was a fairy queen; youthful, giant, and distractingly naked.


    "Not getting impatient are we, night creature?" She said. "A mere few hours before sunrise."


    "I know exactly how long ''til dawn, vulgar woman. Your lord knows not to test my patience."


    "Not my lord!"


    She knew how to press her buttons.


    Pixies and lightning bugs scattered and fled as the dog sleds came rushing into Lacrima''s clearing.


    For a second it became dark.


    When magical light came back, the goblins and werewolves had poured into the temple and filled up the room.


    Scratch looked at his timepiece, a pocket-watch of sorts powered by mana. Then he properly took in the room.


    He clapped his hands. "I see everybody''s here. Let''s bring in the plaster."


    "Not so fast dearie." Lacrima said. "You claim the Ravenous Lich holds stake in our enterprise, don''t you? Well then, the meeting can''t start until he''s here. Isn''t that right?"


    The vampire shot her a mean look. The goblin all-father would not seriously let the night run out over her suggestion, but even the idea was a verbal attack.


    "I am here."


    "Waagh!" The fairy queen jumped off the building in shock.


    "Far be it for me to interrupt you in your... discussion." The minotaur lich appeared in a cloud of black smoke from between the tiles of the earth.


    "Ritter, thank you for joining. This is a familiar setting I think." Scratch said.


    "You are referring to the diplomatic board I maintained with other dungeon lords, before all of us were bereft of our territories by mortal hands. These are not good memories."


    "Ahem, well... thank you anyway, for stopping by in your travels. You see everybody that claims some sort of ownership over our town is here."


    "Vouldn''t do to exclude zhe lord over all dungeons, vould it?" Countess Fleder said.


    "Nor our greatest investor and long-term house guest." Scratch responded.


    She made a little bow, closer to a head nod than real curtsey.


    "Of course I''ve invited Lacrima, who is a patron saint of sorts to the goblins of the colonies that are blessed by Guth. This is Lydia, she manages the shadow bandits. Rhadavann, one of the goblins from the outer territories here to represent his mother and her neighbours. My sons Will and Jasper, overseers for the inner territory, and my adoptive son Roland..." As quickly rattled off the names and pointed around the group he barely left time for anybody to register their faces, but the ogre couldn''t be missed.


    Where the goblins were mossy green and hobgoblins orange, the ogre was a muted red. He had horns and fangs and no hair. Nearly eight feet tall, broad, muscular and rippling with magical energy.


    Over his shoulder he had slung a battle-axe nearly as large as himself, shiny steel reddened with blood.


    "H-hi..."


    "...He''s here as security. Now that everybody is acquainted, let''s get down to business."


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    The goblin horde moved as one to transport a long horizontal object from the sleds to the stone slab. It was covered by two thin blankets and a nightgown.


    "May I present to you: the city of the future!"


    At his cue the fabric was pulled from the plaster and the object unveiled.


    A model city.


    -


    One a scale of 1 to two-thousand, give-or-take, the miniature landscape could barely fit over the length of the table a full twenty paces in length.


    It was made of thin wood and plaster with cemented pebbles outlining the shape of the terrain underneath.


    On one end, the cliff sides were visible. And so where the towering structures of the Promise.


    Then there were the small townships and farmlands of the favored territory, featuring tiny walls, workshops, and even quarries out of thin wood and white plaster, which eventually made way for the less developed outer territory and the woods.


    "It was Quiet here that put together the team and coordinated the creation of the maquette. Quiet? What can you tell us about it?"


    The shy goblin was pushed forward and Scratch made place for him.


    A significant portion of the world''s most dangerous magical beings was staring him in the eyes.


    "Yes. So..." He gathered himself. "So the little buildings are made with wood, but they''re painted with bassan- bassanite paste. So we used a hand plane to make the walls, and-"


    "It goes vithout saying," countess Fleder interrupted, "zhat if ve are gazhered here merely to admire your hobbycraft. I vill kill you."


    Roland reached for his weapon, but no-one else reacted so he quickly let go. Embarrassed.


    "The arts and crafts are a visual aid," Scratch said. He gestured at his sons, who produced additional plaster creations from a crate and began to place them onto the display, reaching around the shoulders of the world''s most feared in the process.


    "We''re planning to expand the territory, building additional housing blocks, wider roads, this thing... what is that thing Will?"


    "It''s another water purifying plant, papa."


    "Aha. Enfin, high ambitions. I need everybody here to sign off on it and discuss how to use the remaining whitespace."


    Even Lacrima leaned in to observe the transformation the model city had undergone. His summary had undersold it. The additions had turned it from a rural collection of settlements into a sprawling mega-city.


    The fairy queen''s lips pouted. "Has your population grown so greatly that you can''t house them anymore?"


    "Au contraire, the growth is slowing down, that''s the reason. For years now we''ve put a price floor on food crops to stimulate broodmothers into expanding their farms. So it''d match our exponential growth. But the added value of more sons has gone down over time and the numbers are plateauing. This year is the first time we''re going to have a vegetable surplus. Might as well dump it on the foreign market, we''ll bankrupt some farmsteads and buy their land for cheap."


    "Yes... I only ask because you''ve completely encircled my witchwood with your towers."


    "Ah, yes, central park."


    "This is not a park. And I must have a regular exit towards my other fairy woods." She put her finger onto the model and crushed some buildings in the way of her coming and going. "Without being reported on."


    "Fair enough, we can move the yeast plant south. Any objections?" He looked around the room as he asked.


    She frowned. "You''re putting it to a vote?"


    "Of course, everybody here has a stake in-"


    "Can''t just move the yeast." Will said, it''s connected to the road. We''d have to replan the whole transport network.


    Jasper shook his head. "And the sewers are already dug, so..."


    "Ah, too bad Lacrima. That''s two votes against."


    "Those two votes are both your party you absolute-"


    "The sewers connect to the dungeon, correct?"


    The goblin patriarch hesitated. "...Yes. We have the design principles to promote magical flow. Magical underground tunnels help us influence the territory in case of an emergency."


    "Noss is adept at spellcraft, but his understanding of dungeons is incomplete. In order to preserve the main ''stem'' of the dungeon path, long distance branches must rejoin the maze. A dead end this far from your main line will cause unpredictable backwash pressures."


    Unaccounted for by any mortal effort, the model city began to twist and shift, moving around like a sliding puzzle, until a new layout was created.


    "With this, the power of the dungeon is maximum."


    "That''s certainly... one idea."


    Quiet''s beautiful plaster maquette had been mutilated beyond recognition. It now resembled a winding maze branching and rejoining like a river delta on a mountaintop.


    "Surely you jest." The vampire scoffed. "Zhere is a more vital vein to preserve, zhe lifeblood of zhis enterprise is commerce, not magic. A varped mess zuch as zhis vould ruin me.


    "Hell-o?" Lacrima butted in. "The witchwood is why all of this got started. You can''t build over it."


    All of a sudden, they were all talking over each other and increasingly, shouting.


    Scratch snapped his fingers.


    At that cue, Roland drew his weapon and smashed it into the stone. The resulting noise scattered life for a few miles around.


    When the ringing stopped and the blades of grass settled in their place, the temple was silent.


    "Ladies, gentlemen." Scratch said, as his son administered healing magic on his ear drums. "We have all night. Let''s put it to a vote."


    -


    When the morning dawn streamed cold orange through Lacrima''s witchwood, Quiet''s model looked markedly different.


    The main road had a curve to it, there were designated undeveloped zones and sections of the dungeon dipping above the surface. Most notably, little red flags stood on controversial plans on which the decision was postponed to a later date.


    "You planned this, didn''t you?" Lacrima said, still in her place when the other warlords had left.


    "This meeting? You were there." Scratch said, playing dumb but looking exceptionally pleased with himself.


    "Even the Ravenous Lich has committed to coming back for the next meeting. That''s what you wanted, you''re trapping us in the orbit of your little bureaucracy, hoping we''ll get invested in it."


    "You make it sound so devious- can you wait with cleaning it up," he touched the wrist of the hobgoblin that had come to collect the maquette, "Roland is using the thingy."


    The ogre had a magical device in hand. A square box with a lens that he held to his face and produced a little flash every time it was activated.


    "I were afraid you had found stronger broodmothers, but this is even worse isn''t it?" The fairy queen said, loud enough for him to hear. "This is what happens to the children your demons steal away.


    You transform them into subhumans."


    "Oops, a bit loud. Don''t worry, Roland doesn''t mind. I learned from Bree that what kids care about is the family that raised them, not the one that could have been. So we''re not keeping secrets like that anymore. Speaking off..."


    The ogre came up to him and handed him the rectangular pictures that the magical device had produced.


    *Council meeting of the Promise* and *Ogre attention-grabber*.


    Lacrima raised her eyebrows. "What? Those are world-memories."


    "All high nobility collect their world memories," Roland said, repeating someone else''s words, "can''t let them linger around for someone to blackmail you with."


    "Wise words," Scratch said, tucking them into his coat pocket. "Now that we''re not disturbing the magic, we can start loading the plaster onto the sleds. Boys?"


    "Seemingly, you have a magical device for everything these days." Lacrima said. "How does the goddess of magic approve?"


    "Guth is broadening her horizons." Scratch said.


    <hr>


    The world memories had a specific destination.


    The oubliette in the basement level of the dungeon, where he put all things to be forgotten.


    A marble statue eyed him as he opened up the box at the far side of the room. One of many now.


    A veritable gallery of stone incarnations of Benesant took up half of the oubliette, sectioned off via metal grates.


    Bree, who would guard the entrance to this chamber of secrets, looked on with an uneasy feeling. Once in a while, the corner of her eye caught a shift, a hint of movement, as the goddess'' presence phased in and out of her depictions.


    "Hey, papa?" She asked. "You''ve got all of them now, don''t you?"


    "All depictions of Benesant in the world? No, not even close. We''re only storing the ones we''ve gifted replacements for in the neighboring counties. There''s probably ones out near the capital that can still talk to true believers."


    "Licentious gnat!" A mass of stone arms shot out from between the metal bars and grabbed at him. One got a hold on his longer sleeve. "What image have you put in my place?" One of the stone heads said, contorted in rage.


    The troll came to her father''s defense and smashed the brittle stone.


    He dusted himself off, but the fabric had torn. "If you must know, they''re modeled after a nice girl called Justine from north of here. There''s no reason for the worshipers to believe it is anything other than an updated, more detailed view of the goddess they knew."


    "But it not being my image, I can not take its presence. I cannot hear their prayers."


    Scratch stifled a chuckle. "Well no. That''s the idea."


    The stone moved as one in an uncanny stop-and-go wave, drawing back and slinking to the side. The many mouths spoke one by one, each finishing a fragment of her speech.


    "You believe you can expel me from this world by eliminating my church? This can not kill a god. I am one with the light, with honor, with the hope in people''s heart. As long as there is goodness in this world, I will survive here."


    "If only that were all you did." He said with a smirk, looking at his daughter.


    He was puting on a blas¨¦ attitude to encourage her to laugh the god in the face.


    But she looked on dead serious as the animated stone continued to rave.


    "I am not blind to your corruption. Somehow the native idols of worship are becoming steeped in darkness and I know you are at fault. I will commence a purge. A great crusade!"


    "Papa..." Bree whispered.


    "She''s not commencing anything." Scratch said. "The holy city isn''t going to raise an army against me when they''re still reliant on the donation drive for restructuring. The adventurers'' guild is bought out. And her world-hopping lackeys aren''t done incubating yet. She''s bluffing."


    The goddess regained her composure and limited herself to one body. "Heiligdom is no longer mine. Your machinations there are laid bare to me. But I do have faithful in this world still. The crown shall march against you."


    "The crown?"


    "Regional lords are compromised by your shadow bandits, but in the name of the goddess, the crown takes action."


    "Papa, what does that mean?"


    "It''s a silly story Bree, let''s get out of here."


    "You may have fought a knight regiment to a standstill, but the power of the king rivals-"


    The goblin shut the door behind him. "Something to be forgotten about."


    <hr>


    Reddington''s capital was as imperious and pristine as it had ever been.


    Where the duke''s estate had been weathered and neglected, the king''s castle still shone with its gray walls and verdant terraces.


    Towering statues of dragon slayers carried the arches and bridges of the ever ascending steps towards the palace, so that visitors felt like tiny sprites in a city of giants.


    Brummum didn''t have time to take in the vistas, as Letta was getting ahead of him stomping up the granite stairs.


    He rushed to catch up to his captain.


    Twenty minutes since they''d broken off from the garrison and entered the city gates. Twenty minutes and she still hadn''t spoken a word to him.


    He clutched his case and looked at her back as they marched. Her uniform was modified to allow for her oversized mechanical arm and it made her look like a tavern brawler to be without a sleeve.


    Perhaps detecting his disrespectful thoughts, she glared at him over her shoulder and he quickly averted his gaze.


    -


    "Halt. State your name and purpose." The guards said.


    Their clothing was colorful and ceremonial, and their weapons were lances for fighting dragons.


    Brummum wondered how useful they''d really be in a fight with a person.


    "Letta. Captain of the 21st Stahlburg brigade. The last Stahlburg brigade. This is my assistant, Brummum. Your majesty is expecting me."


    "We''re on a mission from the goddess." He added.


    "One moment, I shall send for the chamberlain. Please have patience captain... Letta."


    The Reddington guard stammered over his words trying to address her. A peasant without a family name wouldn''t have been able to attain a military rank here.


    Not that one''s breeding was irrelevant in Blurich, quite the opposite, but it was a different sort of lineage that was obsessed over.


    As they waited, Letta turned back to look down the ascend they''d made.


    He knew what she was looking for.


    Somewhere out there, on the eastern horizon, was the Promise.


    Up this high, perhaps one could even see it.


    -


    They weren''t taken for an audience with the king.


    Instead, they were seated in a side room with the palace chamberlain.


    He eyed Letta''s arm apprehensively as he poured them both a cup of tea. "How can I be of service?"


    "We were expecting to meet his majesty."


    "His Majesty is currently indisposed, however I assure you this matter has his full attention and a report of this meeting will be at his desk first thing this evening." He gestured at a young page transcribing their words in the corner of the room.


    It was a flagrant disrespect to show a foreign commander, but the captain retained her composure.


    "Our battalion has been permitted entry into your lands for a crusade upon the Promise. We''ve come to gather troops and able-bodied fighters in order to penetrate the territory."


    The page''s fountain pen scratched diligently upon the paper and the chamberlain smiled faintly.


    "Certainly, certainly. This would be the enhanced siege armor that gave us so much trouble in the last war?"


    "All that remains."


    "Well," he picked up his tea cup, "I cannot speak for his majesty, but I certainly think it should be achievable to have you standing by on the Count''s mission."


    "Standing... by?"


    "Certainly. At this point the primary concern is how to avoid escalation into violence."


    "Ah- captain..." Brummum panicked when she stood up.


    "The primary concern is to destroy the enemy of the goddess!"


    "Please captain, sit down." The chamberlain sussed, "the baronet has shown great willingness to reconcile with the church through many generous gifts. One of their tenets is redemption, is it not?


    And besides, the surrounding territories would be greatly troubled if the great city were to be closed down."


    "They''re bought out, under his umbrella." She fumed.


    "No, no. A poor harvest. It is the day goblins of the Promise that are providing famine relief after the unexpected outbreak of crop blight. His majesty acknowledges the need to seize the money printing apparatus, but it is best done peacefully. With- to be sure- a show of force, but then a peaceful transition of power to a more suitable baron."


    She slammed her hand on the salon table. "We''re not talking about any apparatus, we''re talking about the fate of the world here!"


    The chamberlain gently placed his cup back on the saucer. "With all due respect, young lady. The fate of the world is decided by the administration of its territories. That''s why the force moving into the Promise will consist of high nobility. Stewards of the realm. Who do not need to rely on... siege harnesses... to project power." He managed to suppress a condescending laugh, but in the corner the page chuckled.


    Letta stood there for a second, her nostrils flaring, then she turned around and walked towards the door.


    "Captain?" Brummum quickly picked up his case and ran after her.


    -


    "Halt. You cannot pass."


    The way towards the throne room was blocked by a number of guards.


    They brought their weapons towards her, but she widened her stance, did not let them put her on the back foot, redirected a spear and closed in to disarm one. Then she spun it around to force some distance.


    "Captain, you can''t just start fighting the king''s guards." Brummum hissed.


    "What''s going on here?" A young man with golden hair and gold-lined clothing came up to the commotion, he had a bemused smirk on his face.


    It was the crown prince.


    "Your highness. This impudent soldier woman is trying to force entry-"


    "I have an audience with the king!" She demanded.


    "...Father is indisposed. You... you''re not natively from Blurich are you?"


    "I was born here, under your majesty''s dynasty. It was goblins that took my family from me and drove me out of my home."


    "See, I can tell from the accent. But these are day goblins, not the night goblins you once knew."


    She snapped the fingers on her normal hand. "Brummum, we have a royal, show him."


    The prince raised an eyebrow as he quickly unclasped his case.


    In the box where world memories.


    "I enjoy a game of whisk as much as the next person, but this is hardly the time."


    "Brummum is a mage, with an affinity for time magic. Come on, show him."


    Brummum nodded and tossed one of the cards in the air. "Walgis'' Sight!"


    Smoke and light flashed in the royal halls and an image appeared.


    An elven village burning, overrun with day goblins.


    "It''s called ''the ransacking of the sacred grove.'' In-game it lets you destroy any nature-based land an opponent controls." He said.


    He showed some more.


    A bribe paid to a hobgoblin. A nick with a cursed object turning a man into a werewolf. An infant stolen from a cradle.


    They were all proof of the goblins'' corruption.


    The last one shown was Scratch himself, surrounded by the mists of a hookah, communing with an evil god.


    "We must show this to the king." Letta said. "Break through this idiotic appeasement-"


    "I will go."


    "Your highness?"


    The prince lowered his eyes. "Father is dying. I shall lead the royal army to the east."


    Brummum gasped. "D-dying?"


    "Your highness," the chamberlain said doggishly, "perhaps a conference with your father''s advisers..."


    "You are fired." He said. "Guards, show him the door."


    "No! I have served your father for decade- Argh! You will regret this!"


    As the man was dragged out, the prince turned to Letta. "I apologize for that. It is a black mark on the Reddington name to have one of our own trusted staff attempt to keep us in the dark like that."


    "You think he was intentionally...?" Brummum half asked as he locked away his cards again.


    "It is clear to me now that this enemy of the church has many tentacles. But none of his agents will swear to his name. The spies, the bandits, the beings of great power, none of them will stay loyal once the royal army is on his doorstep."


    <hr>


    Ogre


    Family: Subhumans


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 3 gold pieces 30 gold pieces


    Ogres are known as the barons of the subhuman race. Where trolls are fully specialized in physical power, and brownies in spellcasting, ogres occupy a middle ground. An ogre has the strength of a shield master knight and the mana reserves of an elven mage. They are usually found leading a cadre of hobgoblin spawn, making it more daring and willing to travel outside their home territory for longer distances.


    An ogre may live up to 60 years if not slain, and may attempt to produce more of its kind by capturing knights or adventurers. (Weaker captives can only produce hobgoblins.)


    Killing an ogre is a party quest that can result in promotion to rank C for the party that completes it.


    Although ogres possess the fearless nature, they are considered to have a bestial cunning of sorts and may use simple sorcery in battle. Adventurers would do well to separate an ogre from its hobgoblin pack by exploiting its aggression and baiting it out. Subhumans are much more easily subdued when dispersed.

 Three Days of No War Happening

    Duke Montgomery of Dichtershire stood flaming at the base of Benesant''s new spire.


    He was hard to ignore.


    The man was a towering highborn nobleman, inflamed by the fires of Rhada. Workmen with heritages from all over the four realms lowered their heads as they saw him.


    He would have killed them if they met his eyes.


    -


    The death of his daughter still laid heavily on his mind. It had gone unavenged.


    Currently the spire would have to serve as outlet for his frustration.


    There was something unholy about it. The way the major houses in Reddington had exsanguinated themselves obsessively feeding it, like thralls to a vampire. The way the Promise sucked up all the glory and prestige of its creation. And the way not a single high priest could be found blessing the stone.


    Not to mention its ungodly height. It stood like a needle piercing the gibbous clouds, unnaturally still.


    -


    He strolled through the crenelated white arches to enter.


    Although it were as wide as a cathedral, the stairs leading up were a ring around the true core of the building. The obelisk holding the engravings of the goddess.


    It was the same pattern repeating over and over again towards the heavens. The only thing breaking up the monotony were the scaffolding. The half-chiseled images. The incomplete parts.


    "Montgomery."


    It was his vassal''s familiar, a hawk, that had come to speak to him.


    The duke shook out of his thoughts and realized he''d ascended at least a dozen floors.


    "The crown is moving against the Promise. Should we do something?"


    He didn''t answer. "What is this place Giles? What''s its purpose?"


    "It''s a hole for harebrained provincials to burn their money in. All the materials, all the builders you see around you, they''re paid for in paper money. They buy it up to spend it on their petty prestige, further contributing to the use and demand for the stuff."


    "They feel trapped, Giles. They''ve already ruined their families, if they don''t get their hands on the wyrm shards they''ll be left destitute. The baronet is banking on them resisting this take-over."


    "So you won''t send noble-born to add to their number?"


    "There''s something more to this place. I can feel it. Some divine energy."


    Giles sighed, and through magical projection, the hawk sighed as well. "The farmsteads around the Promise have no way to sell the little produce they do have. It''ll be my township that will have to make accommodations for them if they cannot survive in their crown-given estates. Scratch is able to deprive them of their income under the guise of famine-relief after the cabbage blight this summer. Now, if you''re right and the blight was not natural but magical in nature, that gives us all the more reason to overthrow-"


    "Not overthrow, burn." The duke of Dichtershire closed his hand around a dancing shape of elemental fire. "Make it flush with the dirt."


    "... We just may. The foreigners seem to have finally sparked fire in the boy. With your permission, I will be joining in."


    He looked up. "The crown prince has taken up arms?"


    "He was almost your son-in-law, it would be strange if he didn''t think at least a little like you do."


    A great swirling of mana followed and the duke transformed into a mote of light, zipping away to a faraway place.


    "Monty? Are you there?" The bird said. "That a duke''s bloodline for you, not stingy with mana at all." It preened itself and looked at a builder, who was staring back in amazement. "I''ve known


    Montgomery all his life, some war will do him good, get his mind off things, even if it does require the sacrifice of a minor crook. Reddington nobles need a dragon to slay from time to time, you know."


    The man closed his mouth and nodded politely.


    "Although, in earnest, the day goblins likely aren''t half as evil as we''re making them out to be."


    0000


    "So this is where we stage child abductions," Scratch said, "since you took an interest."


    "You use a devil altar." Ritter said, matter-of-factly.


    Since he''d lost the moniker of Ravenous Lich, he''d become more laid back. His dangerous black smoke no longer coated his body half as often, and he was wearing a bespoke green gentleman''s outfit Jasper had sown for him, fit snugly to the bone.


    It made him look halfway approachable.


    "Changelings belong to the demon family of temptation, and they''ve decided that they really like me now." Scratch explained. "So I get a discount, basically."


    A tall mirror reflected both their forms. One tall, the other short, between the billowing red drapes that dressed up the devil altar.


    Silhouettes of stalking, predatory creatures were cast upon the fabric, but shown to be without physical reality when it moved out of the way.


    The demons had sensed somehow that the goblin had mentioned them and moved in from the abyss. The image within the mirror began to fog up, until it was no longer visible.


    The palm of a large boney hand pressed against the glass from within the fog. "Master Scratch... you wish to see sights beyond sights once again?"


    "Bregornatis. I''m showing Ritter here around, please show me the double we''ve posted in Linefort."


    The hand started to slowly move, then suddenly sweeped across the glass, wiping away a stroke of condense on the inside of the mirror. Now, a daylight scene was visible.


    An infant was being burped by a nanny in the streaking light of a nursery window.


    "There you go, she''s in her place. Nobody suspects a thing."


    The child seemed to notice them through the mirror and gave them a slight, crooked smile, then returned to their role.


    "Alas. I can infer what you intend to show me, but my senses are those of a lich. These tricks of smoke and shadow... I cannot see. Only lifeforce."


    Scratch shrugged. "Well, it doesn''t matter. What matters is that your future apprentice is on the way."


    Bregornatis evaporated the scene and they were looking at just the impression of his hand once more. "The goblins must provide tragedy and lamentation to the court of shadows... this is the way of abyssal dance."


    "Oh?"


    "Yeah, there''s all these... conditions and stipulations. I wouldn''t come to you without a mission Bregornatis, show me the second floor bedroom of the West-Merheim estate." Scratch said.


    The piercing cry of an infant rattled the cave. The mirror showed a less behaved kid crying his eyes out in a wooden cradle.


    Nobody was there to attend to him.


    "There he is," Scratch said, "just like she said. Bregornatis, we shall steal the heir to this baronet house and stifle the bloodline. We have bought betrayal of a mother, we shall corrupt a noble house, and strengthen the subhuman race. Are these terms acceptable to you?"


    "It is... acceptable."


    "Then provide us his image."


    The mirror''s surface began to broil and bubble, until it had degenerated in a gray slime.


    Dark magic coiled and whispered around them as Scratch turned to Ritter. "You''ve got to get to them before they''re baptized, otherwise we can''t do this or the goblin thing."


    "Children are humanity''s most precious resource after all."


    "Same as with your apprentice really, we need someone on the inside to clue us in on a mark and help keep the secret. In this case, the kid''s own mother wished for a quieter son."


    A glob of demonic ooze slide onto the floor, and an infant burst forth. "From the the cold and from the dark, I have come." It said. "For Scratch, who is to be demon king. What is my mission?"


    "West-Merheim in eastern Blurich." Scratch said, "you must become their son and destroy the reputation of the baronet family."


    It bowed. "With great dishonor, sire."


    "Let''s get you into place ASAP."


    "Scratch," Ritter said, "I''ve seen enough. You sap the wealth, hope, and now even the blood from humanity."


    "I... well..."


    "I know that I can entrust to you the stewardship to the remaining shards."


    "H-hold up." He had lifted the demonic infant onto his hip, so his range of motion were restricted, but still he gestured wildly. "You''re the dungeon lord right? I''m just minding this one dungeon for you. I figured, without your tower, the Promise is basically your main base of operations..."


    Ritter looked away and into nothing. "It has been... two months... since we defeated Pinchin and made him one with the aspect of war. I''ve only just began to understand what it means to be free. I want to see the world." His empty eye sockets then returned to Scratch. "Once I have a new apprentice, I will be able to establish a new tower. When that time comes, I will no longer be seeking for Malsidious resurrection."


    Scratch sighed. "She''ll be here for a few years, come and get her once she''s big enough."


    "You''ve done me a great service."


    The lich disappeared. Not in a cloud of smoke, but by transforming into a point of light and zipping backwards through the dungeon. A standard Escape spell.


    <hr>


    There was a special delivery service for changelings meant to replace lower nobility around the continent.


    Because they had taken on the form of human beings at their earliest age, they did not have the power to carry themselves very far. Diplomatic envoys provided an avenue.


    It was Quiet the goblin that had the thankless job of packing the demonic infants into suitcases to be transported with the food aid, weapons, and religious idols.


    Their tiny unclawed hands dug meanly into his arms as they latched on to him. They grinned maliciously in the darkness of the devil altar.


    "Scratch?"


    Scratch was sat on sating pillow next to the devil altar, smoking his hookah.


    He was in no state of mind to address him, intoxicated by the blue grass and magical shrooms in the magical mist.


    "Are you communing with Cyclophan again?"


    "Your master is in the execrable realm of the abyss," a changeling said, "do not disturb him now. He is dealing with devils."


    "I was just wondering... did Ritter like your gift? Because... because you said we needed him here."


    "The demon king has no need for sorcerous sycophants, our kind will be all the support he need-"


    "Shut it."


    With one command from Scratch, the demonic infant''s lips sucked together.


    "It''s not whether he likes it." He put the mouth piece back on the device. "The world''s most powerful sorcerer isn''t going to fight for us just because he liked his present. It''s about binding him to the Promise."


    "...yeah."


    Scratch took over one of the changelings, which had taken to pulling out his poor brother''s hairs one by one. "The answer is no, I wasn''t able to get any commitment from him. We may have misjudged his character, I think he was... grossed out. We''ll have to retreat into the dungeon and let them have the surface."


    Quiet shuffled his feet. "...could fight..."


    "What was that?"


    He spoke up. "We''ve got the biggest army in the world. We could fight them for it."


    Scratch laughed. "That''d be great wouldn''t it? If we hadn''t been so greedy building up the colonies, they''d still be dependent on us..." he pondered for a bit, "...ah well, spilled milk. There''s no chance any of the tribes would fight for us now. What do they need us for?"


    "Can''t... the guilds... all those nobles...?"


    "All soft power. We can''t make the thieves'' or the adventurers declare total war against the royal armies. I thought we had enough of the nobility in our pocket, but then the prince went and acted on his own... hell I thought the prince was in our pocket."


    Quiet went silent.


    "Don''t worry about it. Really, it''s unnatural for criminal organizations to have territories in the first place. We''ll be much more at home spread out, under the radar."


    <hr>


    There is an art to the marching of an army. The regiments must not spread out too much, rations and water must be doled out at a consistent schedule from a caravan of supplies, and careful consideration must be made of the scalability of a pass for a crowd. If any of these things are not dealt with properly, the army can be delayed for sometimes days at a time.


    The crown prince was not spectacularly incompetent at leadership, but he were no veteran. Once he had arrived at the border of the goblins'' territory, it had already been stripped bare.


    All weapons and foodstuff had been removed, construction was halted, and raw materials were covered in tarp to account for long absence. In a land war, such things are done to prevent the enemy from razing the land and using it to supply their troops.


    It took only three days to reach the Promise, but on the third day the soldiers had had a relatively light lunch. If not hunger, there were pangs of pekishness in among the ranks.


    -


    "The baronet is not here, your majesty." A scout reported to the prince. "He claims you have it out for his head and has gone to the county of Scun to ask for protection. There is a small contingent of goblins still in town, but the family has fled."


    "What about the dungeon cores?"


    "Gone, your majesty."


    The prince frowned and played with his goblet.


    The war tent was large and luxurious, filled with cushions, tables, and a high chair for him to sit in. It seemed silly now that he could simply walk into town and claim it.


    "One of our mages will send word to Scun. Housing him now is a betrayal of their king. In the meantime, turn over everything. Find me paperwork, whisk cards, anything that can tell us who is accomplices are and where the dark sorcery is cast."


    "It seems they knew we were coming," Letta''s assistant said sheepishly. "All proof must''ve been cleaned out by now."


    "That is not true." Letta stepped forward, back straight and arms folded behind her back. "Your majesty, with your permission I would like to order my men to put their equipment to work in basement of the mansion."


    "Those mining tools? Why? What''s down there?"


    She balled up her mechanical fist and clenched it in front of her. "A dungeon."


    <hr>


    The basement was clear of the biggest prize the crown had hoped to obtain. The money printers.


    It had become clear that gold could no longer be trusted as a medium of exchange. Traders had become all but allergic to it, choosing to avoid it in fear of the volatile value. This in turn exacerbated the inflation and made the metal completely worthless.


    Promissory notes were now the measure of wealth, and he that could print them infinitely rich.


    Alas, the Eston throne would have to content with debt collectors for a little while longer.


    But the industrious men from the west had their eyes on a different prize. Following the breeze, knocking the stone, and magically preventing the changing of paths, the laid bare a staircase into the depths.


    -


    "A dungeon!" The prince nearly shouted. "Not just a core but a fully dug one. That''s how a goblin from the middle of nowhere attained untold sorcerous power."


    "I''ve been here before." Letta said as she went ahead, "sewer pipes from all over the territory converge underneath here."


    "Stop right there captain," the prince said, before her crew could follow. "We can''t have you delving this place on your own accord. It''s Reddington land."


    She looked back and smiled. "What will you do? Funnel your entire army through these tunnels?"


    "Yes- no. We will organize a party, follow me."


    <hr>


    It took the entire rest of the day selecting the right people to escort the crown prince into the depths.


    If it were only a matter of competence, the choice could have been made within the hour, but a prince must show respect to the highborn in his retinue and make a show of seriously considering every one for an important mission.


    The following morning, a party of twelve started their descent into the goblin under-palace.


    -


    The warg nursery was quickly torn up.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    It was a moss and wooden sanctuary in-between the natural stone, fully illuminated by sunstone. All easily broken apart.


    But once the men started breaking things, warg wolves began to appear from every corner. There was a sea of black fur and white teeth, wolves protecting their nest.


    The soldiers quickly encircled their prince, but the pack was easily kept at bay.


    "These wargs serve Papa Scratch," Letta''s mage said. "If they''re still here, the goblins must be as well."


    "Well his bodyguard isn''t getting to us." One of the knights said confidently.


    "They''re not, they''re herding us into place." Letta said. "Duck."


    They had enough presence of mind to dodge her mechanical arm as she swung it around. In mid-air, it struck a wind wolf in the neck.


    It had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and its attack was only narrowly deflected by her foresight.


    "What-"


    "Wind wolves," she said, "I''ve seen them before. They''re the real threat here."


    Before she was done speaking half a dozen wind wolves jumped on the party at once, bursting directly from their hiding place into their personal space with the power of wind.


    The Blurichans were prepared with spellrods, little bursts of twisting air that interfered with the effect that gave the wolves their great speed. Still, the circling of the predators discombobulated them and the group began to break apart as it tried to keep track of the enemy.


    "There''s more powerful creatures on this floor still," Letta said, "beasts of all kinds. We have to make a break for the next floor, if we-"


    "No." The crown prince said resolutely. "If we cannot clear the first floor, we have no hope of clearing the dungeon. Men."


    "Aye-aye."


    High nobles tended to neglect their training. It was impossible to reach the pinnacle of their potential in one lifetime, so they turned to other ways to prove the superiority of their bloodline. But a family does not curry the favor of the royals by serving ineptly in their sorties. They knew at least enough magic to upstage a knight or baron.


    "Pyroclastic cloud!"


    High level fire magic erupted from between the ranks of the dungeon clearers on all sides. Great billowing clouds of black and red meant to overwhelm shield walls and siege equipment ran through the cave. Around corners, into crevasses, until far out of their sight. The sound was deafening, as all works of the goblins were uprooted and burned to cinders.


    The wolves hadn''t had time to make a sound. They were bracing for the attack one moment, blackened cadavers the next.


    It was silent for a moment, and a honking sound came from behind the smoke.


    A hydra swan, many headed and the size of an elephant burst out of the empty dark far ahead of them.


    All heads were united in one fury, bearing its mighty wings wide it came charging at them.


    But the prince stepped out of the formation, pointed his finger, and without speaking launched a bolt of elemental fire at the monster. It split apart into seven and hit all seven heads at once, exploding them into nothing.


    The boss monster fell to the ground, not having cleared half the distance between them.


    They looked around. The floor looked different now. It was hotter, filled with noxious smoke. All around them was the emptiness of destruction.


    "That''s that." The prince said. "Captain, you were about to lead us to the next floor?"


    <hr>


    The next section was the forge.


    The cargo lift had been disabled, but there was a path through the scaffolding that let to the surface of the cavern. A long descend through precarious metal walkways.


    The last time Letta had been there it had been replete with the clanging of metal on metal and heat from the forge. Now it seemed cold and dark compared to the inferno above, and there was unsettling darkness between the stalactites.


    One of the highborn peeked over the edge of their walkway and whistled. "That''s a long way down. Spiky too."


    "Any wind magic among you?" The prince asked.


    "The 21st brigade is a piloting regiment. Siege armor." Brummum said.


    "Figures. I suppose we''ll have to get down the traditional-"


    As he spoke the metal sheet underneath them buckled and titled, unfooting half the party and sending them to grasp at any handhold between the metal supports.


    "Men! Hold on." The prince locked his arm around a post and reached out the other to help his ally, and others on stable footing began to do the same. But they were disrupted when their own platform began to shake.


    Two of the knights slid off the edge to their deaths.


    "The enemy is below us." Letta said. "Trolls!"


    They came swinging around from all sides. Long armed subhumans with shield greaves and tremendous strength, pulling at the platforms and caving in skulls.


    The remaining dungeon delvers quickly tried to reposition, but no footing was secure, and the enemy was able to move around unpredictably.


    "What about another pyroclastic cloud?" Brummum suggested.


    "It works better when the enemy''s close together." The prince said. "You do something."


    Letta held out her arm and a harpoon shot out, piercing the throat of a troll. "With your permission. Perhaps this time we should try making a getaway."


    "Do you remember the holy scripture of Benesant, captain?"


    "What of it?"


    "Do not suffer evil to live."


    Fire engulfed his blade, and he cut the supports around them diagonally, so that the section above them toppled onto the the trolls swinging on the outside.


    He leapt and severed the connections of the uneven platform, dropping it flat onto the one below.


    The severed metal glowed white-hot from the intense heat, and the entire structure began to lose integrity.


    Seizing the momentum, the nobles fell upon the trolls with blade and magic, tearing apart the scaffolding to get at the nimble enemies.


    Before long, they were in free-fall.


    Letta hooked onto the rope of the lift with her harpoon, taking Brummum with her.


    Some others managed to slow themselves using the unevenly collapsing supports, and yet others cushioned their falls with the bodies of dead enemies or allies.


    All-in-all, half of the party survived.


    <hr>


    They found themselves at the bottom of the cargo lift, patting off the dust on the wooden walkway leading out in either direction.


    The early morning sun shone directly into the cavern, illuminating the buildings to the east and the lion''s head entrance to the right. And the crown prince was counting heads.


    Letta run up to him and shoved him with her real arm. "Is that how the crown of Reddington treats his men?"


    One of his retinue was about to stand between them, but he stopped her. "If I had not taken action, we would all have died."


    "You mowed us down, it''s like you saw no difference between friend or foe!"


    "Letta..." Brummum put his hand on her shoulder and she backed off.


    "Your majesty," the knight said, "your mana?"


    "I have one more great spell in me, but..."


    "If I may. We have spell paper for an ''Escape'' spell. I think now is the time."


    "I don''t want to do that."


    "Your majesty!"


    "You lot destroyed the way down," Letta said. "This is our only chance to reach the end of the dungeon and kill the dragon."


    He raised an eyebrow. "Dragon? Just how deeply have you explored this dungeon before, captain?"


    "Your majesty!" His underling insisted. "We can hardly clear a dungeon while we''re dead. Please, let us return."


    "As I said, I have one more great spell in me. I have Escape memorized. Those that are too injured to fight on can leave with the spell paper now, I will return with those willing to fight on later."


    "It is our duty to protect y-"


    "I relieve you of that duty."


    She bit her lip.


    "Actually..." Brummum raised his hand. "Can we be send back as well?" He avoided Letta''s eyes. "It''s just... sorry."


    "It''s alright." She said. "This is my vendetta, not yours."


    The knight sighed. "Alright. Everybody gather around me."


    Within a few seconds, the already halved group shrunk down to just two.


    The prince and the captain.


    <hr>


    "How were you planning to slay a dragon just be yourself?" He asked.


    She showed the crossbow built into her arm. "Poisonous bolt. I''ve only got one shot, but I only need one."


    "That''s some high grade equipment."


    "The church is generous towards enemies of Scratch. Or it used to be, before..."


    "Right."


    "What about you?" She asked.


    "What?"


    "I''m pressing on to slay the dragon and take my revenge upon the enemy. Why does the crown prince of Reddington want to risk his life in a high-ranked dungeon?"


    "I..."


    The cave had been eerily silent until then, but suddenly an infant''s wailing chalmed against the stone.


    "Don''t get distracted." She said. "If we''re going to make it to the dragon we can''t keep clearing the entire floor. Directly to the lion''s head. With haste."


    The crying didn''t let up.


    "Your majesty..." she said with a sort of threatening energy.


    He unbuckled his weapon. "Take this. It''s an enchanted blade from the royal treasury, it can cut through anything."


    She hesitated.


    "If I know the spirit of my people, and I do, you never expected to survive that dragon fight. Did you? You have no need for an Escape spell."


    She snatched it out of his hand.


    "It is an honorable thing, dying to avenge your family."


    "No, it''s-" she avoided his eyes, "I''m selfish. Revenge is all I have to live for. What you''re doing, saving lives, that''s honorable."


    He saluted her, and she saluted him back.


    "Let''s both be quick about it, Scratch will have his hobgoblins looking for us." She said.


    And then, at last, he was alone.


    -


    The crown prince followed the distressed wailing of the infant over the wooden walkway, up an incline, and towards an eerie red tent. Inchoate shadows danced against the fabric against a warm glow from within. And Papa Scratch sat up on a higher platform looking at him.


    "Your majesty."


    He gave a slight bow. "Baronet. I''d say I''m here to arrest you, but..."


    "But you''d have to explain the kid, right?"


    The prince''s eyes darkened. "I''m here to take her back."


    Scratch was surprised. "Take her back? I assume you mean kill her. There can''t be two princesses of Reddington, you''re getting rid of the evidence to what you did."


    "Come down here!"


    "What for?"


    "So I can kill you."


    "You''re not selling me on it." He ran his hand through his greasy brown goblin hair. "You know... every swap needs an accomplice on the inside. Usually it''s a servant, or some jealous sibling too young to know any better. I didn''t expect a grown man from a privileged- some would say the most privileged position to steal an infant. Refresh my memory, did we offer you money?"


    The wailing halted for a second, as if the child was choking on something, but she found her breath and continued.


    "The devil altar has the ability to transform the unbaptized," Scratch explained, "a couple of minutes more and young Rita will be one of us."


    "Her name is Melina."


    "Not anymore. She''s been chosen as a lich''s apprentice."


    The prince eyed the baronet and didn''t see any weapon, he then resolutely turned and began to walk long steps towards the devil tent and the source of the wailing.


    But he slowed down when two ogres emerged from within, blocking his way. Tall, hulking men with horns and impossibly large blades.


    "I''d like to introduce you, these are Ronald and Gawain. Converts just like your little sister. They grow up so quickly."


    The prince took on a defensive stance, and so did the ogres. The missing blade felt light on his hip.


    He smirked. "Ogres? Really? A knight would lose, certainly, a baron, maybe. But I am Augustine Reddington, descendant of the first heroes, heir to-!"


    "You''re saving your magic for an Escape spell, aren''t you?"


    He bit his tongue.


    "You see the duke of Dichtershire and a few other vassals have joined your troops up top. If you die here, they''ll go nuclear on me. I mean, we''re talking Heiligdom level here. So I''d like you to get the chance to Escape as well."


    The prince tried to peer into the tent between the ogre''s massive forms, but he couldn''t find the girl.


    "August, are you listening?" Scratch asked. "I''m offering you a deal. Nobody finds out about you helping the changeling, and you get to say you killed us. Really, you''re the big winner here."


    "...Weakness."


    "What was that?"


    The prince looked up defiantly. "I had a moment of weakness and you exploited that to harm an innocent child!"


    "Think about what you''re doing Augustine..."


    "Rhada''s Cleansing Fire!"


    <hr>


    As the morning went out, the sun shone into the seaside cavern at a higher and higher angle. Increasingly, it was enveloped in the shadow of the earth.


    Letta had to crawl to stay out of it.


    The vampire countess had twisted her leg from her torso, and she was bleeding to death. But as long as she kept in the sunlight, the woman could not lay another hand on her.


    Her vision was beginning to blur, and it felt like she could see the ominous stately silhouette behind her as clearly as the walkway in front. But as long as she kept in the sunlight...


    The shadow was catching up to her.


    -


    There was the smell of burning.


    This was where the wailing had come from. A red tent engulfed in flame.


    "Captain!"


    That had to be the crown prince''s voice.


    "Your majesty..." he voice sounded weaker than she had expected, "I lost your sword. I''m sorry."


    "It is I who should apologize to you." Without warning he pressed a burning plank against her leg stump, cauterizing it to stop the bleeding.


    She grimaced. Then screamed.


    "Courage, captain. I will help you up."


    Only then did she notice the baby held in his other arm. The poor thing looked bleached white from shock and stared at her with silent red eyes. "Is that... real?"


    "This is my baby sister. I haven''t been entirely honest with you."


    She looked over her shoulder in a panic. "We have to keep moving."


    "What''s-"


    "Keep moving." She hissed through the pain of her missing leg.


    -


    The young man supported her with one arm as she hopped on one leg, and held the child in his other.


    Together, they kept ahead of the creeping shadow.


    "I have no mana left." He said. "I used it on the baronet."


    "You killed him?"


    "I thought I did. It might have been a demonic double."


    They moved past a burning tent, where he had fought the goblin patriarch. The shadows of the stalagmites flickered like candle fire against the creeping darkness behind them.


    "Do you know where we''re going?" He asked.


    "Just... towards the light."


    The baby looked at her with an eerie serenity.


    -


    Eventually their road ran out.


    The salty sea wind accosted them and they were at the start of a long dockyard. A small coastal town and a merchant vessel spread out before them.


    "...Ships?"


    "The baronet is a lord of thieves," Letta said. "Pirates and smugglers congregate here to deal in stolen goods."


    "Well I can''t afford letting you live having seen that."


    It was Scratch. He had bandaging around his burnt torso, and sat on the back of a windwolf.


    With him, he had brought a small army of hobgoblins.


    "Didn''t you say you couldn''t afford to kill me?" Augustine said wryly.


    "There are countervailing concerns." The windwolf said.


    She was a werewolf.


    "Do you see that ladder to our left?" He whispered to Letta.


    She glanced at it from the corner of her eye, without making it too obvious.


    "Windwolves are fast, but they can''t climb. In a moment I''ll throw you onto there. Hold on to Melina and start climbing."


    "And at the top?"


    "Just... protect the baby."


    "Do we attack?" One of the hobgoblins asked out loud.


    "We don''t want to hurt Rita." Scratch said. "She''s promised to the lich. Put the kid down your majesty, no sense in spilling unnecessary blood."


    As he said it, young Rita, that is to say young Melina, was pressed against the dismembered captains chest and both were thrown.


    The noble''s strength was impressive, flinging her above the roofs of the simple huts. She was disoriented by the toss at first, but managed to shield the infant against the impact and grasp a ladder''s spoke with her mechanical claw.


    "She''s climbing up the flight deck."


    "Jasper, Lars, take care of his majesty. The rest of you... try to find some bricks to throw at her, I don''t know."


    -


    The prince was enough trouble for the hobgoblins that Letta made quite some headway working her way up on the ladder.


    Not that is were easy. She had one arm and one leg to dedicate to the task. Every time she had her foot steady and let go of a spoke, there was half a second of vertigo and imbalance before she could grab a higher one. And each time, her burnt stump of a leg banged painfully against the wood.


    But once a crossbow bolt hit the space next to her head, she found the adrenaline to rush to the top.


    She knew what a flight deck was. Every military town had an elevated road for high ranking adventurers and noblemen to come in and land their flying mounts. For some it was the only way to enter.


    But she didn''t see any hope in escaping on a wyvern. The animals required a stronger rider, with two spurs on two boots.


    Pulling herself over the edge she rolled onto her back and gasped for air. "I... was prepared to die... here." She swallowed a frog in her throat. "How cowardly of me. I could have shot him with my harpoon."


    "Da." The kid kneaded on her collar, seemingly unaware of the danger.


    By then, the creeping shadow had reached one end of the flight deck, and the vampire countess'' heeled foot clacked onto the wooden railing.


    "Peasant." She said.


    With some effort, Letta sat up. "Bitch." She answered.


    "You have paid for your trespass vith a limb. What ozher tributes of flesh vill you offer up to me?"


    "...You''re a vampire. Why are you following the orders of the goblin lord? Just because you''re undead you''d lower yourself below a subhuman, is that it?"


    The shadow had progressed enough so that the countess could take one step forward, unto the flight deck floor. She did not lose her cool at the provocation. "I do not serve zhe bandit rabble. Zhey must serve me, und provide shelter vhile I seek out my son."


    "I-is that what they have you believing?" Letta slowly lowered this baby to the ground, trying to get her away from the coming bloodbath somehow. There wasn''t much hope for the kid, the clatter of armored hobgoblins was already bounding up the stairs.


    "Vhat do you have zhere? Vhy have you taken a youngling to such a place?"


    "This is the princess of Reddington." Letta admitted. "Scratch stole her from her crib to trade for with a lich. If you don''t serve him, will you let me take her to safety?"


    The first hobgoblins had reached the edge, but abruptly stopped upon seeing the vampire, causing his brethren to bump into him in vertical chain collision.


    Keeping from distraction by the noise, Letta appealed to her again. "She is of royal blood. That must have some meaning to a highborn... Please."


    The countess extended her arm and pointed at her, so that the tip of her nail burned in the sunlight.


    A sudden black thing with wide leathery wings burst out of the darkness behind her.


    Letta flinched, but it stopped just shy of her. A shiny black horse with bat wings and disturbing canine teeth.


    "Zhe monarchies expunged us vhen ve embraced zhe blood. I owe zhem no loyalty. However, I vill sympazhize vith zhe plight of a mozher. Go, take my steed."


    "Hey, you can''t do that!" The hobgoblin said.


    She swore angrily at him. "You vill not tell me vhat to do! Go on child, climb on."


    "I... I don''t have the strength."


    "Zhe zhracian steed vill know vhere to go. No need to spur it on."


    With her last strength, Letta found herself on the horse''s bare back. She had to have been clutching the baby to tightly, because it now began to struggle, trying to escape her grasp. Regardless, she did not loosen her grip.


    Not even when she faded in and out of consciousness flying out over the salty foam.


    Escaped.


    <hr>


    Less than four hours after the debacle with the royal dungeon clearers, Scratch and his extended family had escaped by boat and were sitting high and dry in an Eston drug den.


    "Oh, I hope the girl survived." Lydia sighed.


    "I don''t." Scratch huffed. "That''s royal blood escaping. I''m pretty sure the transformation completed as well."


    "I hope some of the wolves survived." Jasper said.


    The goblins had cleared out the shuttered building of addicts and traffickers, and were now lounging around on the musty cushions.


    "This is boring, Ada whined. When can we go home?"


    "We can''t go home. Around sunset, when the duke realizes the prince isn''t coming back, he''s going to burn everything."


    "Huh!? What!?"


    "We made good use out of that crack in the ground," Scratch said. "But we can''t make it worth everyone''s while. We''ll need a new base operations in one of our bandit cities."


    "N-no. That''s our home. My stuff is there."


    "Sorry girlie, it''s not really our property if we can''t defend it."


    -


    Their sombre peace was broken by a bashing on the door.


    Roland, still burned and bandaged, opened the door. A meat tenderizer in one hand to bash in the head of any visitor that didn''t approve of.


    Seeing the weapon, Lucky recoiled and threw up his hands. "Don''t kill me!"


    "Don''t kill him Roland," Lydia said, "that''s our crimson brewer."


    "I wasn''t gonna..." Roland said indignantly as he lowered the weapon.


    "How can we help you, Lucky?" She said.


    He straightened himself out and regained his composure. "Ahem. Just to clear things up, we may have Beauregarde and the regular guards on our side, but we''re not quite a bandit city. If your family keeps loitering outside the city gates, I can''t stop the crown from noticing."


    "What loitering?"


    "Everyone is here, Lucky." Scratch said.


    Lucky cocked his head. "There''s a small city''s worth of day goblins camped outside the south gate. They say they''re with you..."


    "One of the broodmothers?" Lydia asked Scratch.


    "All the girls are accounted for."


    "If this goes on, you''ll be discovered." Lucky said. "I''ll take you there, have you talk some sense into them."


    The hobgoblins all began to stand up as if it were a done deal, but Scratch gestured at them to stop. "You have access to all ingredients and distributors now, Lucky. It doesn''t matter if we live or not, you''re rich. Why are you risking your skin publically associating with us?"


    The alchemist looked surprised. "Because you made me rich. I want to help you."


    Both looked at each other non-comprehendingly.


    <hr>


    "Scratch!"


    "Ah- Second."


    The goblin was dressed animal hides and stolen clothing, torn up and repurposed into multi-layered padding. He went in to hug his brothers, clasp hands with the two hobgoblins that had come with, and give Lydia a polite nod.


    The mass of goblins tenting outside the city gate was a notch less put together than usual. They were all like him, dressed in bits and parts, tenting under mossy hides propped up by sticks.


    "You haven''t been home in years." Scratch said, "who are all of these goblins?"


    Second turned around and waved his arms to get the horde''s attention. "Scratch is here! Papa Scratch!"


    As if rehearsed, they raised their voice in unison and threw up their fists. "War! To War with us! Warwarwar~"


    "All the lost boys without mothers, runaways and for other reasons..." Second said. "We''re here to fight for the Promise."


    Scratch pinched the bridge of his nose. "Second..."


    "How didst thou know we were here?" A hobgoblin asked.


    Second looked at Quiet, who hid behind his hand.


    "You where in contact the entire time?"


    "Not the entire time, but-"


    "We can take you into the city." Scratch interrupted. "We''ll clean out Lacrima''s old orphanage. That''s appropiate, I think."


    Second looked back and forth between him and Lydia. "No... No, we''ll fight them off."


    "Even with all the goblins in the world, we can''t defeat the combined powers of the Reddington high nobility."


    "Well what about the hotspring? Lacrima and her fairy beasts? What about... what about Noss'' inventions? And all the bandit lords? What about the lich?"


    "We have nothing left to buy their loyalty, I''m afraid we-"


    "THAT''S why Teeth had to die." Second hissed.


    "What?"


    "I''ve never stopped thinking about that day, I just didn''t know how to say it but this is how it''s said: Teeth had to die because you think loyalty has to be bought. Teeth made you choose between him and them," he gestured at Lydia, "and he didn''t have anything to offer you."


    It put an icy chill into the reunion. Lydia gritted her teeth at the accusation, but Scratch just pursed his lips.


    "That is how it goes in the real world. I''d hoped by now you''d seen that."


    He played with his buttons and didn''t look him in the eye. "But it isn''t. That''s just how you are. All these boys would die for you, but you can''t understand that."


    "...You''re right. I can''t understand that. People shouldn''t be dying for the sake of others, they should die for what they themselves believe in."


    "They believe in YOU Scratch!" He now stared him ferociously in the eye. "They believe that the one who helps everybody should be the leader, not just the strongest one. They believe in their papa who fed and clothed them and protected them from humans!"


    "It''s true," Lydia said, "that goes for all of us. The bandits, the sorcerers, everyone."


    Second grabbed his hands. "Every goblin in every colony knows what your face looks like, it''s on the money. If you''re with us, they''ll join the goblin throng, every one of them."


    "And then? Declare war on all of humanity?"


    "No." Lydia said. "We can prevent the crown from levying further troops. The noble houses are in crisis and divided. We have the influence to stop a full-on war."


    Scratch turned around. "Is everybody on board with this?"


    They raised their weapons and grunted in agreement.


    "Fine..." he sighed, "let''s go take over the world."


    <hr>


    The author paced feverishly back and forth over narrow hallway. Every few seconds or so he stopped to look at the orb.


    There didn''t seem to be anything wrong with it from a distance. Its colors were as iridescent and implacable as ever.


    But ever since yesterday, he had not been able to see any of his heroes.


    On an ill-given impulse, he had suddenly tuned into Hayato Ito. Or Laurus, as he was now called. His story had been published, and he had introduced new souls to the orb since then, but his path could not have changed that much.


    So he thought.


    It was as if the entire world of Lite had shifted into an unknown and darker timeline. He was scared to look into others whose fate had changed since he''d first wrote it down.


    How could he, in good conscience, incarnate another soul, if this sort of thing could happen?


    Another missed call from the publisher.


    And those children that were in the news. Killed in a police shootout...


    He couldn''t postpone the story much longer. How would he make his payments?


    Those children. He''d seen them in the world of Lite. Inside the orb.


    How-


    The publisher was calling again. He hung up.


    It was time to call in the helpdesk.


    <hr>


    Changeling


    Family: Demon


    Threat Level: E


    Reward: N/A


    Changelings are demonic entities put in place when a child is stolen by a dark sorcerer. At first, they perfectly resemble the replaced infant, but will quickly grow sickly and deformed over the course of a few months. In this state, they torture the parents and community with the illusion of a neglected and abused child, causing sorrow and strife within the household.


    Even before this transformation, changelings can be detected using holy water or light magic, which damages them.


    It is the demon''s intent to drive one of the parents to madness before their true nature is too obvious to deny. Such a corrupted parent can be fiercely protective of the child and resist an adventurers'' help. Nevertheless, changelings must be killed to preserve the peace.


    Adventurers that suspect an infant may be a changeling must contact a church official before proceeding. The priest will determine whether this is correct, and issue the appropriate bounty for its skull.


    Because changelings rely on trusted individuals within the household to perform the swap, the skull of a changeling must also come with an investigation on the identity of the traitor.


    ADDENDUM: accusations towards day goblins of changeling dealings require a higher standard of proof. It has been brought to the attention of the guild that calumny on ''the goblin king taking away unwanted children'' has created an opening for demon petitioners to defer responsibility. A mere accusation by the perpetrator can not be submitted as evidence.

 20 years of war

    *Beep* *Beep* *Beep*


    The author tapped his foot impatiently. Calling over the phone seemed like a mockery, too mundane a thing for the matters at hand. Yet, by phone it was.


    "Yeees?"


    "Ah!" He sprung up. "I''m having trouble with a world I''ve purchased, I-"


    "Who is this please?"


    "Right. My name is-"


    "Customer number please?"


    "Uhm... number three..." he quickly rummaged through his mess of receipts. "Three... eight-eight."


    "Number three-eight-eight?"


    "Yes, that''s right."


    He could hear whispering in a foreign language on the other side. It could have been Japanese, but it could have been something else.


    "Why you call?"


    "I''m calling because something unexpected has been happening with the world you send me."


    "Un- what? You break the world?"


    "No, no I didn''t break it. I just- I..."


    "You waste my time. World is not a video game, does not break. Visitors can change the world, that is your responsibility."


    "Yes, YES. That''s what I''m saying. Because I have been sending visitors, and it has worked the same for years. Every time someone from our world is born there, the future changes. I''ve been writing down the futures, it''s... it''s for my job."


    "Yes? So?"


    "So... okay. Here''s the deal. The future of the world has been changing even when I don''t do anything. There''s this evil empire that crops up, and then demi-gods that nearly destroy the world. It wasn''t like that at first. I think... I think someone other than me is sending visitors to the world of Lite. Is that possible?"


    "You wait."


    "What?"


    "You wait I get someone."


    After the rude service worker had said that, it began silent at the other end. There was only the slight static of the telephone.


    -


    A minute went by, then seven, and the author didn''t dare put down his cell.


    Finally, there came a voice from the other end. "Well wishes to you dear customer," it said in a buzzy, almost inhuman tone. "You have a complaint over our product?"


    "No no, that''s not it. I just... I wanted some help."


    "If there is anything I can be of service to, to the right honorable gentleman, I would be most delighted. Most delighted."


    The new voice was more polite, but uncanny as well. He couldn''t really make out its emotions.


    "Well, you see. It''s this world-"


    "Customer 388, the world of Lite. Classic Narou template. What seems to be the issue?"


    "I think there''s people reincarnating that I didn''t put there. Is that possible, can that happen?"


    "Ah, no. This can not happen. You must be mistaken." He said it with such pleasant confidence that it immediately felt silly to have ever thought otherwise.


    "Oh, okay. It''s just that... you know... the future has been changing."


    "Do excuse me?"


    "The future. I write down the lives of the visitors for my stories, and then I let the following visitors change that story. But this time their lives changed a few times before I put in anyone new."


    It was quiet for a bit again. "...The time dilation is how much? .... Honorable customer?"


    "Uhm... 3 minutes here is 2 weeks on the world of Lite, so... that''s... 20 times..."


    "Seven-thousand. Yes, that is correct. Then it must be the self-same orb... excuse me for one second if you please."


    "Of course."


    -


    Another aggravating minute of silence before a third employee picked up the phone.


    "You''re the one that''s letting others mess around with his world?"


    He was stunned for a moment. The third voice had even more static in it than the last. No, not static, the voice itself was formed by buzzing. As if he were being helped by a bee hive, and the collective zooming of the insects just happened to come together in sounds that could be interpreted as words. It felt... ominous somehow.


    "Hello!?"


    "Hi, yes." He quickly responded, shaking out of the wild imagination. "I mean no. I... someone is reincarnating people into my world. I don''t know who."


    "You have a contract, only you may touch the orb, only you may change the world. You must keep it out of reach for all of humanity."


    "I ha- Sire, I can assure you, I''ve followed the instructions. Nobody else has used the orb. My friends would know."


    "...Friends?"


    "Oh. It''s not what you think, they''re dead. My friends are dead. I made them gods in the world of Lite, so they''d know if someone... you know... reached their hands through the celestial realm."


    "With the orb, the world of Lite is as if a fiction to your own world. You may lift up the power of those reincarnated to arbitrary heights. Create gods from nothing. Without the orb, this is impossible."


    "Okay?"


    "Keep the orb away from others. Then reincarnation can not destroy the world of Lite."


    "Yes, sir."


    "Now keep heed. And remember that the world of Lite is not a toy. You hold the lives of generations of people in your hands."


    "Yes, sir."


    He hung up more worried than he had started. The three men had offered no solution to his problem and in fact only alarmed him to a bigger threat.


    He tapped the glass of the orb, watching the completely flat world and its satellites spin in the emptiness within. ''Like a work of fiction'' indeed.


    If the helpline was correct, whoever was putting people in there couldn''t lift them up freely like he could. So they couldn''t be as powerful.


    But that didn''t solve his writing problem.


    And anyway, he had the ominous feeling that it wasn''t true.


    -


    He decided to sleep on it another night.


    That same time the next day, the world of Lite was twenty years older.


    <hr>


    Twenty years the Reddington crown had been fighting the eternal enemy, the lord of evil.


    Armies clashed, bandit adventurers fought against noble-born knights, and the enemy staged countless schemes. But for a few years now, they had settled in a bloody impasse.


    They lower nobility threw their blood against the outer walls to protect the border, and the higher nobility had the freedom to distract themselves with court intrigue.


    -


    "The seal around your neck is a curse of truth-telling. Tell another lie, and you will be shocked by elemental lightning."


    The accused stood wide-legged in her shackles, forgetting all dignity of her station. Grinding her teeth, shaking her hair, and making wide-eyed threats towards attendees.


    The eldest princess of Reddington was called the whore of the capitol behind closed doors. Never was she seen without a bucket''s worth of make-up. Wide smeared lipstick, inky black mascara, and


    the rest foundation. If there were still prostitutes in the territories controlled by the crown, they wouldn''t have looked all that different.


    After today, no doubt, people would be less shy with it. Perhaps even call her whore to her face.


    If it were true that she had falsely accused the violet hero.


    The looked down past her nose at her. She could barely make out her expression, so high was the throne.


    The princess was all alone, way down on the throne room tiles, while all those attending were up on their platforms, looking down, already passing judgment.


    Up there was also the violet hero, Yamamoto, clung to by his many girlfriends. He looked for eye contact, but she avoided his gaze.


    "Melina Reddington." The queen said. "Will you finally commit yourself to the truth, or will you continue to lie?"


    "I''ve never lied!" She yelled.


    *Bzzzt*


    She buckled at the sudden pain tensing her muscles. Before she could right herself she flicked up her eyes to stare daggers at the ice cold queen of the fire kingdom.


    "I see that the curse works." She said dryly. "Now then, princess. The hero has had to endure many inequities under your accusation of kidnapping and rape. Both by the law in my absence, and by the irreparable damage to his reputation. Under pain of the truth-telling curse, tell us again, has this man taken advantage of you?"


    The princess looked around at the nobility. This was entertainment to them, not two weeks ago they had had just as eager sadistic expressions participating in her ostracization of the hero. "Is my word not enough?"


    "Answer the question. If you do not, you will be considered to have lied."


    "You''re my mother! You should be on my side! On my side!"


    The queen slammed her fists on the armrests of the towering throne. "You are a liar and a disgrace to the royal family. I disown you! One more chance. Has this man ever, I mean ever committed any of the various atrocities you''ve alleged him to?"


    Melina resolutely turned her head away. "I refuse to participate in this. I should not have to prove myself in this farce."


    "Then you have proven yourself guilty. I would have you thrown in the deepest hole to be forgotten about, but as always, the victim is allowed to demand mercy for the sake of the perpetrator."


    Yamamoto nodded sagely. "Your majesty, I do not wish for anybody to be treated cruelly in my name. I simply wish for my name to be cleared and for all to know this woman and her lies hold no credibility. I merely propose you take away the titles and honor from her name, and let all in the kingdom know what she is. A cunt."


    The queen nodded as if it were a completely reasonable request. "Most gracious of you, hero." She raised her voice, "the princess Melina shall be stripped of her nobility and shall henceforth be known as ''Cunt''. None may call her by another name, on punishment of death."


    It was an unconventional decision, but one that had the vengeful gossipers of the royal court roarous with excitement. Already they were hurling abuses at her head with her new legal name.


    The queen bade them to be silent. "Now I will have this peasant removed from my castle and thrown to the streets. Any parting statement, Cunt?"


    The heavy mascara drooped over her cheeks and her shame burned red through the many layers of paint. She pouted. "Mommy... I love you..."


    *Bzzzt*


    The curse necked her and she fell over to the laughter of the crowd.


    "Get her out of here." The queen said, her cape billowing behind her as she left the throne room.


    -


    The disgraced princess was dragged roughly out of the palace and thrown into the gutter.


    He painted face now smeared out and covered in mud and horseshit. She hissed angrily at the passerby''s giving her weird looks.


    "Elder sister, elder sister."


    Melina closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as if she''d been stabbed.


    The voice came from the crown princess of Reddington.


    "Elder sister, your pride may be shaken, but you should not run off into back alleys to live destitute." She said.


    The girl was eight and had had the title of heir to the crown transferred to her since she was six. Ever since she had learned to speak, she had only spoken condescendingly towards her elder sister.


    "I''ve had some of your belongings retrieved from your quarters. Now I want you to be careful with them, they''re the only property you have left." One of the princess'' attendants presented a tray with her comb and make-up box.


    There was none of the expensive jewelry the former eldest princess had filled her room with, that might have been sold for some starting capital.


    "I know things seem bleak now," the younger sister said, "but really this is a chance for you to start over, and learn from your mistakes."


    Melina stroked and picked up her golden comb. It wasn''t valuable, but the young princess had chosen what she must have thought was of emotional value to her sister.


    "My friend from the duchy of Linefort is looking for a new maid. And I have convinced him to let you interview for the position." She went on. "I hope you will not waste this opportunity,-"


    "Like I''d be-"


    "Cunt."


    The crown princess'' personal attendants were highly trained and were able to deflect the comb as it came flying at her. So that it drove a hole into the palace outer wall.


    "Princess, this person is dangerous." One shielded her with his body.


    "Please let me get rid of her for you." The other said, coming in with a wide hook punch.


    Melina punched him in the chest so that he went flying backwards and the princess was already being ushered back into the gates, tutting.


    "She always was a troublemaker."


    "Go rot!" She yelled after her younger sister. "Go sink into a hole and die!"


    <hr>


    The higher nobility of Reddington had expected to see the former princess around the capitol as a beggar. But they never did.


    Rumor began to circulate that she''d taken her own life, or let herself be consumed by some beast of the wild.


    Neither was true.


    You with the sad eyes


    Don''t be discouraged


    Oh, I realize


    It''s hard to take courage~


    Scratch sang gently as he soaked the cleaning rag in soapy water.


    In a world full of people


    You can lose sight of it all


    And the darkness inside you


    Can make you feel so small.


    "I don''t know why she would choose my side, she never has." Melina said drearily.


    "Perhaps it''s for the best." Lydia said. "Now that you have nothing to lose, you can finally be with us and see the world."


    But I see your true colors


    Shining through


    I see your true colors


    And that''s why I love you


    So don''t be afraid to let them show


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.Your true colors~


    As Scratch''s wiped away the filth and tears and smeared make-up, for the first time in many years, the color of her skin was bared to another.


    Bone white. With a thin black line running vertical over each eye, and two sawn-off horns at the far sides of her forehead.


    She looked at her feet in embarrassment. "I have to go to the land of the goblins now?"


    "Young lady, we''re your godparents after all." Scratch said. "You''re just as much from me as you''re from either king or queen, and those horns prove it."


    The couple looked like they were in their fifties, but had kept a certain youthfulness from active lifestyle. Graying hair, lines near the eyes, and battle-scarred. The only difference was that she was a woman and he was a small, green-skinned day goblin.


    "I''ve already prepared your room. You have a lot of brothers and sisters to be introduced to, Rita." Lydia said.


    Melina nodded, it was suddenly becoming alarmingly real.


    Scratch handed her the rag and moved the tub of water. "In all those years at the capitol, have I ever rejected a wish of yours? Be it magic, wealth, or violence, I told you...-"


    "''Just whisper into a one dollar bill, I''m always listening.''" She laughed. Of course it was Papa Scratch, the same fun uncle that had send her those magic beans to prank her maids with, that had arranged for her academy rival to be beat up, the same fun uncle that would make it snow so she wouldn''t have to go shake hands with peasants.


    "Let''s get cleaned up," Lydia said, "we have a whole tour planned out."


    -


    The hot-springs were a bit out of the way of the monorail station. It was a resort of sorts, although Scratch described it as a ''fly trap''.


    It was a half-hour trek towards the transit and then five flights of stairs up to get to the platform, but once there the sandy forest road they''d taken was splayed out clearly below them.


    Melina breathed in the fresh air. There was no bustle of the city that she''d gotten used to her whole life, no stink of horses and-"


    She coughed at the sudden exhaust fumes filling her lungs as the forest tranquility was broken by the banging and plodding of the monorail.


    The long, segmented metal slug came to a halt approximately in front of the boarding platform and a goblin leaned out the machinist''s window, waving his hat. "Heya! Papa Scratch! Miss Lydia. Can I take you to the end of the rail?"


    "It would be our pleasure, Nug." Lydia said sweetly. "Come, Rita. Step in."


    "On that thing?"


    "It''s perfectly safe, come on."


    -


    With some squealing and clanging the monorail picked up a decent page coasting over the treetops. All-in-all, it was no more bumpy than a peasant coach.


    What it did have were glass windows, showing the passengers the skyline of the Promise. Great smokestacks for industry and imposing rectangular mega-structures to house countless goblins.


    Forest paths such as the one surrounding the hot-spring were merely splotches of green in a vast and endless urban sprawl.


    It was so much larger than the capitol.


    Melina stood amazed against the glass.


    "That''s the alchemical plant," Lydia said, as they passed an intricate edifice of pipes and tankers. "That''s where ReGen is produced and canned."


    "ReGen...? It''s the monster nation that creates our healing potions?"


    "Of course," Lydia laughed, "the monarchy can''t produce aluminum, now can they?"


    "...I wouldn''t know."


    "The monarchy has long since lost autarchy," Scratch sat with his feet up on one of the benches, his eyes closed to the busy vista outside, "we''ve pursued economic interdependence as a matter of policy. The alchemical plant is also where we produce Crimson. Much the same principle."


    "Anyway..." Lydia drawled, getting away from the topic, "look at that, that''s the adventurers'' guild hall. They had a new one build just two years ago. Isn''t it huge?"


    "This whole city is huge."


    "And then you''re only seeing half of it."


    "...What do you mean?"


    <hr>


    As Lydia had said, there were a lot of siblings to be introduced to. A few hundred, in fact.


    Hobgoblins lived mostly underground. The dungeon underneath the metropolis'' sewers was the city''s equal and inverse, tunneling deep into the earth. It contained the troll garden, a lush paradise of subhuman species.


    As it were the season for it, a few of the girls made a flower crown for her.


    They showed her her room, the dragon pit, and the archery range.


    They had a campfire, and a roast, and Melina got to tell her life story, being the center of attention.


    Throughout all of this, they kept calling her by the name ''Rita'', as Scratch had always done.


    In the ever constant light of the underworld, it was easy to lose track of day and night, but after a few parties and two naps, the sun would have had to have made at least one full rotation around the Earth.


    Looking around for her godparents, she ascended back up into the caverns of the underground trading hall.


    -


    After some directions from the place''s caretakers, she found herself in a redbrick room, almost a castle hall, with a large mirror at the end.


    She looked into it and, as is typical for mirrors, saw her reflection. The same inhumanly colored monster that she saw in the mirror every day. But this time, there was no reason to cover it up.


    "That''s our magic mirror." Someone said, startling her. It was a hobgoblin, leaning against the doorpost. "There''s a demon in there, don''t get too close."


    She scoffed at the notion, but turning back to the mirror it seemed half a second too late to match her expression.


    She backed away.


    "This is the devil altar," the hobgoblin said, "are you looking for papa?"


    "Don''t talk so familiarly to me, I''m a princess. I just... I want to get an idea what this place is."


    "...It''s a devil altar."


    "Well no, I was referring to the entire dungeon."


    "Oh... it''s a dungeon."


    She tapped her foot impatiently. "What is it you do here exactly? What''s your name, anyway?"


    He stuck out his arm. "I''m Haerwynn, and I already know your name, it''s Rita."


    She didn''t shake it. "It''s Melina actually."


    "Is it still?"


    The question annoyed her. Because the answer was ''no,'' technically speaking it had been changed, but not to Rita, and not in any way she was willing to discuss.


    Haerwynn pointed at the mirror. "I''m chief assistant manager of devils, ''cause I''ve learned all the true names. If you know someone''s true name, you can do sympathetic magic on them. Watch."


    He muttered something complicated under his breath and a spellform coasted towards the glass, as soon as it hit, it fogged up.


    "Bregornatis, show me Ada of the Promise." He declared.


    The spirit of the mirror obeyed and soon they were looking at an older hobgoblin woman sitting behind an oversized desk in a librarious study as if she was right across from them.


    She put down her fountain pen and looked up. "Haerwynn, I told you not to scry on me. I''m busy."


    "Sorry prime minister, I just wanted to show Rita our devil mirror."


    "Oooh, Rita~." She clasped her hands and leaned forwards. She didn''t look directly at her, some magic in her eyes letting her view the other side of the transmission from another angle. "Our golden child. Are you having fun out in the real world?"


    "She wandered off." Haerwynn said.


    "Adventurous! I remember when you were a baby. Papa says you''re partly his, but I say you take after me. You still have to be baptized before you can start the job, though."


    Melina had wanted to give a dry remark, but she was surprised to hear mention of a job. Somehow, it hadn''t occurred to her that the lord of evil would want to recruit the daughter of his arch enemy to help destroy Reddington once and for all. It seemed rather naive all of a sudden.


    "Sympathetic magic links a person to anything that''s based on them. Like their name being said, being written down, but even more if there''s a depiction of them." Haerwynn prattled on. "Papa was able to talk to you all those years using this mirror, because his face is printed on all the one dollar bills."


    "Haerwynn," Ada said more seriously, "turn off this thing and take Rita back to the garden. I''m just finishing up here, I''ll be down tomorrow."


    <hr>


    The job remained ambiguous for the next few days. Even Ada, who seemed to have authority within the Promise, was discreet with the information.


    Instead, she received a new wardrobe and a personal windwolf, gifts to fill her day and occupy her mind.


    On the fifth day she was baptized.


    Losing the blessing of Benesant had been a painful memory, when her baby sister was given her inheritance right, but now she received the blessings of five gods on one day.


    Scratch was there, at the proceedings.


    -


    "Papa Scratch," Melina finally unstuck herself from the jubilee to approach him.


    "Rita. How do you like your gifts?"


    She blinked a few times. "I''ll have to get used to the sight. There''s... lines all over."


    "And the room?"


    "I love my room, but-"


    "What about your new partner?"


    "They''re all lovely, papa. Everything is lovely. But I begin to worry about the price."


    "I''ve never charged you for my gifts before?"


    "Then I worry I''ve run up a debt. Regarding the twenty years war..."


    Scratch squinted at her for a moment, trying to sus her out, then he resolved something and clasped his hands. "Very nice. You''ve got good instincts. No reason to put this off, I suppose." He hailed


    Ada. "Ada, can you send us up?"


    The older hobgoblin waded through the crowd. "Up? Up where?"


    "All the way up."


    She shrugged and took a pistol from her belt.


    She placed one out of a collection of cartridges into the devices and pointed it at the two of them.


    Before Melina could protest, they were enveloped in a bright light. The Warp spell.


    <hr>


    The mote of light that carried exile and her godfather shot up through the dungeon.


    Up past the warping circle in the trading hall.


    Up out of the basement and past the surface warping circle near the adventurers'' guildhouse.


    Up and up through the atmosphere onto a floating island above the sky.


    There was a third warping circle, laid out in meticulous mosaic on the courtyard of a spindly tower.


    Stumbling out of the unexpected warp, Melina grabbed a railing, but quickly fell backwards after looking down.


    The world was like a travel-sized map, so small was it. The city and sea and forest were like splotches of indistinct color, only the truly large landmarks like the alchemical plant and the guildhall could be made out.


    She looked back at Scratch and saw the tower, more tall than broad but all arches and flying buttresses. "Can you warn me!? What is this place?"


    "Let''s get inside first. I always forget how thin the air is up here."


    -


    Inside was a grand hall of granite and brass.


    She had only just received the witch-sight, but the green lines of mana constructs were everywhere. There were moving magical contraptions and curses swimming through the air.


    Young adults in black robes littered the space, getting from place to place by themselves or in cliques, carrying books and chatting up a storm.


    "Who are these people? Dark sorcerers?"


    One of the robed figures broke away from his group and approached the goblin. He was barely taller than him and, on closer inspection, it was a young boy underneath the cowl. "Papa Scratch, zhe magus from Linefort is a fraud. He does not know zhe first zhing about spellcraft, how could you give him a teaching position? Our credibility to zhe great houses-"


    "Calm down Fleder. It''s fine. Class 1E are all accomplished sorcerers that have entered the academy by hiding their abilities."


    "Vhat? Vhy?"


    "I don''t know, but it seems to be a trend so I put them together. Pair them up, make them waste each other''s time. Ah, have you met Rita?"


    The boy looked her up and down. "Has it really been so long? Pleasure to meet you, Rita, I look forward to having you in my class."


    "Noss Fleder teaches dungeoncraft, which is a third year elective, but perhaps..." Scratch said.


    "I''m- You want me to enroll in a magic school?" Melina asked.


    "We do, yes."


    "Why?"


    He beckoned her to follow him, leaving Fleder behind. "What have you been told about the twenty years war?"


    They ascended the stairs through the austere marble halls. "The four realms have been fighting the trai- your armies ever since I''ve been alive. The realms have the true faith and the descendants of heroes on their side, the opposition has bandits and monsters. Uh, that''s it."


    "That''s it?"


    She became distracted by the splendor of magic the flowed past them. Rolling stairs, moving paintings, and fairies all around. Even an enormous fairy queen crossed their path heading to another section of the building. "Well what else is there?" she said, transfixed, "we''ve fought to a standstill and neither side has made progress in half a decade."


    "Not quite, come inside." He opened a little door that was just his size but she had to bend over considerably to get through.


    They entered a cosy office, with maps on the wall, a carpeted floor, and a heavy wooden desk that held and astrolabe. Like the tower as a whole, it was a lot taller than it was wide, and the higher walls contained a whole new set of charts and diagrams.


    Scratch heaved himself up the large wooden desk, and it was much to large for him to ever use for its intended purpose.


    He sat down and dangled his legs over the edge. "I don''t know if the visuals help, but the four realms are not all on the same side and neither are all the bandits. The territory controlled by your mother today is about a fifth of what it was when you were born. It''s not that we couldn''t take it over if we wanted it, it''s just that there''s not much more to take."


    The world map did show that. Much of what Melina had learned was their territory was marked as disputed, and the four realms were depicted as small colored splotches in a world ruled by monstrous factions.


    She leaned on one hip. "You''re sending your troops to die just for fun, then?"


    "Well the constant warfare keeps the god of war happy, so yes. Really, we just wanted the peasantry on our side."


    Melina had been staring at the dizzying sky of maps, but that comment pulled her back down. "The capitol is bleeding workmen," she said.


    "The countryside is much worse off, addiction and destitution on one side, economic opportunity on the other, it''s not a hard choice. Most of those ''bandit cities'' your mother fights were just existing townships that switched sides."


    She hesitated before speaking. The lord of evil had gone through great lengths to save the princess of Reddington and buy her loyalty, but now he was telling her Reddington was worthless to him.


    "You get around with a monorail, or somebody else''s magic. You need a devil altar to cast magic. And you lack all strength. What power do you have that could subjugate the entire world?"


    "There''s no such thing as power, in my view. There''s only leverage. Currently, what I have over your mother is a pegged currency and food exports. That''s all the power I need to prevent her from starting any major offensive. No, Rita, we haven''t been fighting the monarchies for twenty years, we''ve been fighting the faith."


    A tall and thin door in the back of the office opened up- this was the proper entrance- and a tall humanoid skeleton sporting a cow''s skull stood in the doorway, startling her.


    "Scratch. You''re on my desk again."


    "The man of the hour," Scratch spun around, "I was just telling Rita about our plan to kill Benesant."


    The lich paused. If he had been a living being, he would have sighed.


    "This is Ritter," Scratch told her, "he''s the headmaster and minister of education."


    "You will hear of many bearing ministerial titles while you''re here, these are meaningless. I am a sorcerer." Ritter took a seat at his desk. "He might appoint you minister of god slaying next."


    Melina looked back and forth between the two of them. "You must be joking, you can''t kill a god."


    Ritter looked at Scratch, but Scratch gestured for him to continue. "My dear girl, these lands were ones littered with lesser gods. Kishin, we called them. It was the Harkness dynasty that trapped and devoured them. Now the only kishin that remain are the house spirits of this academy."


    "Sometimes, leverage takes the form of one good lie." Scratch said. "Once a god enters the physical realm, they can be killed. Most of the world worships are false image of Benesant now, but we can not root it out completely. That''s why I commissioned the spire in Blurich, it is made out of wyrm shards and contains a vessel for her body."


    There was a diagram for that, but it was bizarre. The great monument had been part of the skyline for years, iconic and a symbol of the universality of the faith. The parchment showed an endlessly long serpent body hidden within.


    "The problem is, once we get her down here, how do we kill her? There''s no larger god to absorb her, and none our weapons seem big enough."


    "The original wyrm, Malsidious, was killed and shattered into pieces by the first hero, a person of unmatched power."


    Melina blew up her cheeks. "You''re having a laugh, really you must be. Kill a god-dragon? If you''re recruiting me for that you can forget it, I''ve never even picked up a weapon."


    They looked at each other.


    "That level of strength should not be beyond you. The royal bloodline is bred only from world-saving heroes. Subhumans do not have many special abilities, but they have the power of fully realized potential. Like a hobgoblin has all the strength of a highly trained peasant and an ogre matches the strongest knight, well..."


    "This world is a nightmare of bizarre eugenics," Scratch said, "but even royalty can''t normally do the sort of thing you casually throw out without years of training. I mean you blew up a wall throwing your comb. Hopefully the academy will help you find your limits."


    She frowned. She''d always been embarrassed by her freakish nature, but now that inhumanity was what gave her value to the only allies she had left. She wasn''t quite ready to be happy with it yet.


    "I wouldn''t send my goddaughter to her death against a dragon," Scratch sussed, "we''ll draw up a strategy. But once Benesant is dead, let''s see... how about the Reddington throne as a reward? You were passed over as heir, but with our support-"


    "I don''t want Reddington anymore." She said suddenly. "It''s too small for me."


    "...We''ll figure something out."


    <hr>


    The start of a new school year wouldn''t be until four months, but in the meantime, she was given free reign to travel back and forth to the tower and had had her own dorm room assigned. This gave her some time to acclimate to the way things worked in the world of the enemy. Or ''out in the real world'' as Ada would have put it.


    In Reddington, nobles that had sided with the goblin nation and the bandit cities in exchange for keeping control of their territory were just bandit lords. But having changed sides didn''t change their nature, they were still prideful and competed for status within the new world order. That meant marrying adventurers that had gained prestige by slaying true nobles into their family, it meant building and maintaining dungeons to house magical beasts, but most of all it meant educating their children in dark sorcery.


    "Until not too long ago," Ritter had explained to her, "dark sorcerers sought out personal apprentices. In exchange for sharing their knowledge, the apprentice would see to the master''s worldly needs. Fighting enemies, gathering reagents, affairs of that nature. That way, the master could spend his time researching magic. But when it came to Scratch to find me a suitable apprentice, he instead devised the academy. He believed that a few teachers together could develop a great deal more students, and gain more workmen per person in exchange. I should have known it was another trick to bind lesser houses to the Promise."


    "So the traitorous houses stick with the lord of evil just because it would be humiliating if their kids couldn''t go to magic school?" She''d asked. "Is the whole world ruled by this sort of leverage?"


    "That is how he likes to see it. I won''t be the first to say that Scratch''s power comes from the love and loyalty of goblin kind."


    -


    Either way, the fellow students she was introduced to were suitably status-obsessed and satisfyingly sycophantic.


    It reminded her of her youth, when the other kids would be too afraid to speak out against her due to her status. She''d lost that comfort with her diminishing reputation over time, and she was glad to have it back.


    Doing battle with the goddess of light herself seemed like a steep price. But that was in the future, this was now. She''d landed on her feet.


    <hr>


    "For the eldest princess never to outright deny her lie while under the curse, that was good direction." Youthere said.


    Haerwynn stepped away from the mirror after preparing it to give Ada the stage.


    "Father insisted on it," she said, "is there some significance?"


    "In the long run there could be." The demon said, from the other side of the glass, "Right now, the remaining houses are loyal to the regime, so they will follow the narrative of the trouble-maker princess lying to sabotage a hero. But if they were ever so inclined to push away from the queen... she has left open the pathway to alternative interpretations. The lie was never proven."


    "Did she lie?"


    "I believe so. It doesn''t really matter. What matters is the narratives, and how they might influence the masses. On that front, I can report great progress here in Grienice."


    Ada nodded and made as if to stand up, she wasn''t fond of speaking with the incubus. "If the city is almost ready to turn to us, I''ll tell mother and we''ll make the preparations."


    "Almost, almost. The major institutions have had their administration completely filled with ideologues. I say with no exaggeration that credibility in academic and leadership positions is wholly dependent on adherence to our narrative. Orthodoxy is indistinguishable from understanding."


    "That sounds like they''re ready."


    "The orthodoxy is that humanity must repay a debt to demi-humans everywhere, not least to day goblins, which should one day grant a window for diluting their voting power. But not yet, there''s still the underclass, members of the guilds. Though I assure you, they are not free from our meddling. If the academia represent our agenda, then all those that oppose our agenda must identify in opposition to academia itself. This way, no viable alternative can form."


    "Yes, you mentioned this," she said, "it was... pseudo-intellectualism versus anti-intellectualism."


    "But actual intellectualism must be stamped out, indeed. We now have the working class proudly declaring themselves monarchists, as they''re labeled opposition to the republic." Youthere giggled.


    "Oh, young Ada, you should see the beautiful rhetoric we spin for them, how seamlessly appeal to tradition becomes glorification of the past. Soon we will have the republicans appointing a ruler for life and monarchists protesting it!"


    "I don''t particularly care to see your handiwork." She huffed. "Frankly, your indoctrinated humans sicken me. Tell us when the city is ready to accept goblin rule, and try not to have too much fun in the meantime."


    She gestured at Haerwynn to have the mirror turned off, and he was about to, but one of the other incubi took the word.


    "Excuse me, prime minister, but we had expected to see the goblin all-father today."


    He was a tall and well-shapen individual and almost made her blush.


    "Ahem. Papa Scratch does not have any official duties within the ministry. If it''s important I can pass on a message... If I deem it important."


    "We''ve been separate from the all-father for two decades and... you see we are demons of temptation... we worry he has not cultivated sin to the degree that we would like."


    "You see, Scratch has been manipulative and mercenary since the very beginning," Youthere clarified, "but I''ve always emphasized how, to become the demon king, he must also learn to take pleasure in the suffering of others. After all this time, his cruelty is still... instrumental. Once Grienice falls, I would like the opportunity to work closely with him once more."


    Haerwynn looked at Ada, but she put him at ease with a slight pout and a subtle head shake.


    "At this rate, lord Abyss of the west will become demon king first!" The other incubus whined, "and the temptation family would be humiliated."


    "You understand that our service is enforced by contract," Youthere said darkly, "but our loyalty is bought on a promise. A promise of greater ruination." Then he cleared up. "But it''s no trouble at all. To convince Benesant to enter the mortal realm, the all-father must commit an evil grave enough that she would risk her own godly existence to put a stop to it. It is inevitable in his plan! That will be our opportunity to help you all develop a taste for the work. One way or another." He leaned in and smirked. "See you soon."


    The mirror fogged up as the connection was broken from the other end. Neither hobgoblin look all too pleased.


    <hr>


    Old World Knight


    Family: Human


    Threat Level: D


    Reward: 2 silver bills


    Adventurers traveling near the ancient lands of the monarchies, may encounter human warriors still loyal to the crown.


    These warriors can be recognized by royal banners and lower grade equipment. These ''armies'' are known to travel in parties of a few dozen at the minimum, and are not to be underestimated for their tactical formations.


    When getting the better of old world armies, adventurers would do well to lure them towards uneven terrain, where they can not effectively link their shields.


    ADDENDUM: The radical counter-revolutionary movement in the Grienice slums also identifies as monarchist and adherents are sometimes seen carrying the banners of the long dead Grienician monarchy. Until the resolution of a few pending laws, these individuals are still considered citizens and can not be killed for bounty.

 The Devil You Know

    In the last five years, the city had become more dangerous. Crime had always been a broiling sub-surface infection, but then it''d burst the thin veneer of civility and rolled into the homes and streets, spreading the pus of corruption and disorder.


    Had it been half a decade? Yes. Half a decade ago is when the syndicate got their new leader.


    Karen stood at her front door, keys still in hand, contemplating this rapid turn into anarchy and not entering.


    She was quite certain that she''d made two more revolutions turning the key after the door had been locked when she went out this morning. Just now, it unlocked in one.


    Call the police? Too slow. The landlord? What was she going to do?


    She rummaged through her bag for her derringer.


    Hopefully, they''d ransacked her apartment already and weren''t still inside.


    As she opened the door, she could hear the television was on. The 24-hour news cycle getting all the mileage they could out of the recent crime wave.


    Pistol in hand, she pressed herself against the wall, inching closer towards the corner with the living room.


    There were five people there.


    Five!?


    Having heard the door open, one of them stood up. "Who''s there?"


    Karen lowered her weapon and came around the corner. "Good heavens, it''s just you guys. You scared me."


    In her apartment were Benesant''s five apostles. Five young people between the ages of twelve and sixteen with bright technicolor hair. They didn''t drop their guard upon seeing her.


    "Are you our ally? Can you prove that to us?" Sanadora said.


    She was the fire girl, the red one and their leader.


    The others were behind, all but one rising to their feet.


    "What are you saying? Turn that off." She pointed at the flat-screen TV, still droning on about super-powered vigilantes.


    "It turns off?" Galia asked.


    She strode into the room and pushed the ''off'' button. The room fell silent. She noticed how they''d been huddling around the white-haired girl, Noora. She''d been crying.


    "How can we be certain you''re on the side of justice?" Sanadora said, more insistently this time.


    "How can I be certain you are?" She answered, somewhat offended. "I mean what is this? You break into my home and I''m suspicious?"


    "Sorry about Sanadora," Galia said softly, "it''s just... we were deceived by another comrade recently."


    Noora covered her face and buried it in her lap.


    Sanadora went back to her side. "It''s not your fault Noora. We were all deceived."


    "You mean... the potion?" Karen began to put it together.


    Sanadora nodded. "We believed to be adding a champion of justice to our roster, but it was the enemy."


    "Of course..." Karen sighed. "That must be the new don."


    "How do you know?"


    She sat down. "The syndicate leader has been in a mad panic ever since I wrote the big expos¨¦ about his entire enterprise- with your help of course. He''s convinced that all he needs to do to regain control is kill the six of us, and he knows how your fire doesn''t work on ''old souls''. I don''t doubt for a second that he''d create a fake persona to get his hands on that potion, that''s exactly in his wheelhouse."


    "We cannot let the greatest source of corruption in this world to enter the goddess'' domain." Galia said. "It''d be a permanent blemish."


    Karen mulled it over. The apostles'' magic was real, but this one crime lord could hardly be called the greatest source of corruption in the world. Their knowledge was patchy and unpredictable... what could a potion actually do?"


    "Miss Muldover," Sanadora said, "can you help us find this person?"


    "Are you going to kill him?"


    "...yes."


    She folded her hands together. Would she be complicit in extra-judical killing? Five years ago, this idea would have disgusted her, five years ago she would have refused with all her being.... "Alright. I have a source inside the syndicate for my reporting job, we can use her to pinpoint his location."


    "Then we will do the rest." Sanadora said. "Before he takes the potion."


    <hr>


    The sky was black with smoke, the sound of chaos and violence was everywhere, as the steel mill at the top of the hill was being torn apart.


    Bright lights flashed against the blackness, magical warfare rending the stone apart as resistance fighters squared off against the hobgoblins.


    The kids were keeping bravely silent in the old monastery. Though some had tears wriggling down their faces.


    Noora sat down with them to soothe their fear. "It sounds scary, doesn''t it?" She said. "But those are my friends out there, fighting for light and justice."


    She held out her hands and a little diorama appeared, light and shadow coming together to create an image. As she now willed it, it showed a man in a long wizard''s coat with roots and vines encircling his limbs.


    "Galia is the smartest of all of us. He and I are from the world of Hallow, and there he learned the secret art of controlling plants!"


    As she described it, the illusionary puppet held up his arms and summoned grasping roots from the ground, which tore apart a goblin train.


    "Galia finds out how the forces of darkness make their weapons and he tears apart their buildings of stone and metal, rawr!" She played it up for the kids.


    "My parents mix steel for the goblin all-father." One of the girls said.


    "They won''t have to anymore, after today." Noora said. "Because we''ve also got... Muzzy!"


    She showed the jovial elven boy in his leafy clothes, staying airborne on a gust of wind. The children were fascinated and drawn in by the display.


    "Muzzy is from this world! The world of Lite. And he''s good at wind magic. With his back-wind, the resistance will push back aaaall the goblins and make this barony free again. So you can grow your own food and don''t need the all-father''s mean money anymore."


    She changed the shape again.


    "And you know who else is out there protecting you? Only Techrius from the world of Marm! Doesn''t he look big?"


    Techrius was a tall suit of armor with two embers of light visible in the darkness of his helm.


    "He''s actually a good guy. Techrius can create as much elemental metal as he wants, and no magic ever comes close to him. So the dark sorcery of the traitor legions are..."


    The tiny wizards in her illusion threw all the bolts of color at him they could, but the metal man just laughed and shrugged them off, making the children laugh with joy.


    "But that''s nothing..." Noora said dramatically, "compared to our fearless leader. The great phoenix Sanadora!"


    Now the image showed a great plume of fire, split in two to resemble the wings of a bird. It soared over the Reddington lands and everywhere where its light shone, human figures burst into flame.


    "She travels the land to root out our enemies and cleanse the world."


    A particularly intense fire spell exploded just outside the window, scaring the children.


    "Don''t worry," Noora said, "only those with evil in their heart are hurt by the cleansing flame. Now let''s all get away from the window. Maybe the nuns were able to hide a real statue to Benesant in the basement somewhere, how about we race who''ll find it first!"


    <hr>


    "Did you hear that?" Scratch said through the voice amplifier. "She''ll root us out and cleanse the world!"


    The crowd laughed and jeered.


    They were in the troll garden, underground, all prominent goblins and hobgoblins from the Promise metropolis.


    Noora''s name was etched into a talisman inserted into a light-box, so it projected a clear view of her onto the tall canvas that formed the backdrop of Scratch''s podium. The sound had to be projected at various places among the large crowd.


    Her words to the children had had more of an audience than she could ever have imagined.


    He received a cue from his son.


    "I''m getting word all of your suggestions have been handed in, let''s pick one from a hat!" Scratch said. "Just as a reminder, Noora is a healer, a bit naive and very sensitive. Let''s see what we have here."


    He was presented a top hat and stuck his hand in to grab one of the paper slips at random.


    He read it to the crowd. "Werewolf''s curse... hmm. Let me take a look at Alpheba real quick... I believe she''s shaking her head... No. The goddess'' blessing is too strong for Alpheba''s curses. Let''s fish for another one."


    Someone from the crowd yelled something.


    "What was that?" Scratch asked. "The kids? The kids aren''t blessed, we''ve falsified the baptism ritual all over the world. However... I don''t think some peasant werewolves would be a danger to her.


    Let me check with Alpheba."


    The green-haired woman, standing off to the side, put up a thumb.


    "So we can curse the kids via Noora''s connection," Scratch said, "but it''d be regular warg wolves and they''d have to rely on the element of surprise."


    The same goblin spoke again.


    "What? He said ''they can use her feelings for the kids''." Scratch relayed. "That''s evil, I like it. Alpheba, let''s give it a shot. But if this doesn''t work she''ll know something''s up."


    It took a few minutes for the former witch''s apprentice to contact the spirits trapped in her werewolf curse, to tell them the plan. In the meantime, a musical band played tunes to keep the goblins from getting bored and starting fights.


    -


    After not too long, the sounds of wolves growling began to emerge from the magical speakers, and the band stopped.


    "What was that? There''s something here." The goddess'' warrior could be heard saying.


    They were in a dark basement and the wolves managed to dodge in and out of corridors, hiding their true numbers while slowly making an approach.


    Noora quickly filled the halls with magical light. "Children, to me!" She said hurriedly.


    But as the beasts darted around, suddenly appearing to nip at her angles, she was never able to confront them. Running around the corner, the wolf was gone and she found a scared child curled up.


    Someone had started a fire, and smoke filled the basement, so that she couldn''t see two feet in front of her.


    She shepherded the children towards the exit, turning her back to them to shield them from whatever was still inside.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    That''s when they found their opening.


    Scratch winced. "Well I think that''s enough, we can move on to the next one."


    "Gotta make sure she''s dead." His son said.


    "...cut the sound."


    The visual feed stayed up and Scratch averted his eyes, but the sounds of screamed and flesh tearing died down.


    The crowd cheered, then booed as the silent movie went the other way. Noora healing herself and fending off the wolves with elemental light.


    However, she couldn''t bring herself to hurt the children. And, being kept occupied by them, wasn''t able to escape the room as it filled up with smoke and she suffocated.


    The canines fled the building as the screen went dark.


    "Will the kids remember what they did?" Scratch asked Alpheba without his voice amplifier.


    "No." She shook her head. "This early with the curse, the spirit has to put the host to sleep to manifest."


    "Good. Put the sound back on." He turned to the crowd. "You happy now, you bloodthirsty maniacs!?"


    They cheered.


    "Great! But that was just the appetizer. We''ve got mr. Trees over here ripping up our factories right next door. Switch out the names."


    As a new talisman was inserted into the magical device, sympathetic magic found the person who''s true name had been carved into it and projected their face on the screen.


    "Galia is Benesant''s hero of Hallow." Scratch recited. "He is known for summoning roots, tearing cities apart, and returning lands to the rule of nature. His greatest strength is his tenacity, his greatest weakness... a lack of intelligence. The hat will be going around again, feel free to recycle ideas, but not just werewolves again, keep it interesting."


    The band began to play again as they watched Galia lay waste to the industrial village.


    <hr>


    None of the five had a clean death. Over the quarter century that the Promise had stood on the world of Lite, it had amassed great economic, military, and magical power and it leveraged that power in the most direct, surgical manner possible.


    The healer was beset by werewolves.


    The wood mage was levitated upwards by gusts of wind he could not fight, until they took him high enough to be swallowed by a sky serpent.


    The wind mage was poisoned by the generals of the rebellion, who had been bribed with land and riches.


    The metal mage was trapped in a flood plane when a dyke was broken. Even with the perfect defense, water could not be blocked or parried and he drowned.


    As such it came to be that the mighty phoenix encountered the goblin army at its full, undivided power, suffering no setbacks in machinery or sorcery.


    She screeched as her cleansing flames were first extinguished and then blocked all-together from the lands below.


    She balked at the black balls of tar and straw launched at her from the surface, ammunition designed for flaming dragons that might just as easily have dragged her down as well if she did not possess the flying skills and grace that she did.


    The crowd in the underworld watched on with bated breath as she drew closer to their location.


    With every thrust of her mighty flames, her opposition grew more dense.


    Ogres hurled spears and elemental air.


    Dark sorcerers chanted curse after curse of increased weight.


    And the weather itself was turned against her, sending hail against her direction and striking with lighting infused with elemental death.


    It slowed her down, but it did not extinguish her flame.


    One more day and she would reach the throne of the empire.


    One more day of enduring the constant barrage of destruction, one more day of constant unceasing exertion.


    It was an impossible feat, no matter one''s power.


    Or was it...?


    On the screen, they could see her continue on, flinching, but unfettered by the storm.


    -


    After a few hours- the goblin crowd had gone nervously quiet- Scratch orchestrated the ability to speak to the woman directly.


    "Ahem. Wonderful effort old gal, you''ve made it farther than any of us ever expected. I mean that."


    Her expression remained focused as she dove lower to the ground to avoid two sky serpents with sorcerers on their backs.


    Scratch turned to his support. "Can she hear me?"


    "I can hear you," said the woman on the screen. "I can hear the fear in your voice, that you hide with your condescension, I can hear you realize the depths of your sins and the flaming intensity of my judgment."


    Scratch laughed. "Really. Twenty-five years and you haven''t changed a tack. You do realize you''re fighting the entire combined power of all this world''s nations? Forget being her champion. If you believe you''re going to keep this up for another fifty miles you must''ve convinced yourself you are Benesant."


    She found a lull in her enemy''s barrage and looked around herself. "This is... some sort of long-distance communication method, like the ones on Cradle?"


    "I didn''t sneak a cellphone into your pocket, if that''s what you''re asking. Most people on Lite are considerate enough to carry paper with my face on it wherever they go."


    Panickingly, she dug into the folds of her robe. "Sympathetic magic. Nine HELLS!!" But she didn''t get the chance to empty them out as the airborne sorcerers began pummeling her from above with elemental lightning.


    "I do think we''d have gotten eyes on you either way sweetheart," Scratch said, "your friends got caught by surprise though."


    The crowd laughed.


    She shook off her attackers. "Your witch magic will not help you in battle."


    "Aren''t you going to ask what happened to them?"


    "No. You killed them. Cruelly, most likely. But you have achieved nothing, five spirits have returned to the goddess today, you shall be the sixth."


    "Okay, okay," he took from the side of the stage and sat on it backwards, "we''ve both said our threats. Let''s get down to business, how long have you been working for Benesant?"


    She blasted a few aluminum ballistas out of the sky. "What?"


    "How are the hours? What''s the compensation? You''ve turned down my money before, so I won''t even start with a bid. You name your price, how much is your loyalty worth?"


    "Again you insult me. What use is your secular gold in the light of the eternal?"


    "Nonono, forget money, forget gold. What are you getting out of this arrangement? You can''t brush me off this time, it''s still a day''s travel to the seaside."


    The grimaced and rolled her eyes. "I serve unconditionally the cause of justice."


    "Serve uncon- Okay, let me rephrase. What put you up to this path? What happened that made you want to devote lifetimes to flying around like this?"


    "...I was once part of the world of Lite. That was when the god of evil, Malsidious, still darkened the night. My family... my community cowered in fear of him. It was in the service of the goddess that I was able to take up arms against evil."


    Her own words strengthened her resolve and she shone holy light to break open the clouds and banish the serpents.


    "Ah, so all you needed was comfort and peace of mind. There are other avenues to achieve this." He proposed.


    "Silence. A greedy monster like you could never understand. We warriors of Benesant fight not for ourselves, but for the mission of justice."


    He lowered his voice. "Then let me ask you this; when will you be finished?"


    She furrowed her brow. "I... when the work is done."


    "But Malsidious has been defeated. When is ''done''? After me, what''s the next source of corruption? And after that? You''re not planning to keep fighting like this for eternity are you?"


    Sanadora closed her eyes, she had just come across an enchanted area and was beset by illusion, but her other senses carried her through the fight. "Silence. I will listen to no more of your words.


    You are a tempter and a deceiver."


    "If only... You see I believe nobody does anything for no reason. You say you don''t take payment, fair enough, but you''re getting something out of it. Perhaps it''s an excuse to indulge in sadistic bloodlust, or maybe your ego is stroked by the title of righteous avenger. Don''t think I can''t outbid her on that front as well, I can."


    She raised an eyebrow over her closed eye. It could have been interpreted as interest, or at least morbid curiosity.


    "You and your friends will get to keep your body-hopping immortality once Benesant is out of the way," he proposed, "and I shall grant to you even greater titles. How does ''goddess of fire'' sound? I''ve exchanged divinity before, I can make that happen for you."


    "Remarkable..." she said, now in a more free air space, "...just when I thought you couldn''t get any more despicable."


    Scratch sighed. "Again with the performative- listen, it''s time for you to start thinking about your future, right? Even if you kill me, my god-daughter will eventually form her team of dragonslayers and force her to incarnate on this physical plane as a wyrm. What will you do then, huh? Hang out in the empty void for the rest of eternity? Then nobody gets what they want. I am about to recreate


    Benesants reincarnation potion here in my refineries, and I plan to take all of my goblin offspring with me to the celestial realm. You could be a part of that. Just imagine: a big city in the clouds. We''d have a birthing station from where I could send you to any nation in need of a hero."


    "This is getting increasingly preposterous." Sanadora spat. "You can''t genuinly believe this will convince me to betray my cause, you''re just filling the air to... to distract me." She looked around, "from noticing that I''ve been turned around! You''ve changed my direction!"


    He laughed like he''d been caught in a prank. "Illusion magic. Maybe I am a bit of a deceiver. Do you realize why I led you towards the Eston capital?"


    Sanadora stopped to turn around, but she held pause seeing a stark white figure in some sort of colorful jester outfit contrasted against the black smoke sky.


    "Rita''s little sister just got married before her, so she''s in a bad mood." He winked at his crowd. "Between the two of us, I don''t know who''s in more trouble. Me, for making her rush the last stages of her revenge scheme, or you for, well, you know... just kidding, it''s you. Still, bad timing with your attack. Was that on purpose?"


    Rita moved so fast that she was behind her in an instant and kicked her into the ground with a spinning dropkick.


    The earth shook and the air compressed at the sheer force, uprooting most of the surrounding vegetation. Sanadora was propelled straight down through several layers of rock and dirt.


    She produced a mighty fire spell from within the crater, but it was instantly dispelled and her attacker came crashing down.


    The screen went black.


    -


    "She didn''t hold back." Lydia later commented. "I still think Rita has it in her to defeat the wyrm by herself."


    "A vyrm is more zhan just a large dragon," Noss said as he collected the magical equipment, "as long as she relies on her strength and mana alone, she vill never be beyond zhe level of a legendary hero. And it took four heroes to defeat zhe last vyrm. Tell her to apply dark sorcery, tell her dark sorcery is zhe creation of new spells as needed, not merely zhe reproduction of exist ones."


    "Well she''s certainly proven adept at curses, what do you say Scratch?" She asked.


    Scratch puffed thoughtfully on his hookah. "What did she mean with ''five spirits have returned to the goddess''?" He said.


    "Vhat else? All five varriors are part of her heavenly domain, zhey vill attack again in twenty more years if ve do not vanquish her."


    "But she hadn''t returned yet. Why would I be the sixth, unless she''d be expecting to die before me?"


    "You don''t think she was planning something, did you?" Lydia asked.


    "No, I almost seemed like she believed that- Oh no." He jumped onto his feet. "A sixth warrior. Why didn''t I think of that? Benesant can pour her essence into anyone, all they need is one of those potions."


    As he said it, Lydia suddenly clutched her chest. "I just felt death among the wolf spirits. Some of our werewolves just drowned."


    "Hopefully it''s an unfortunate accident and a coincidence. Alpheba, no chance you could quickly whip something up so we can zoom in this character real quick?"


    "No true name, no talisman." She said.


    "Lydia, take me topside, we''re putting the whole base on red alert."


    <hr>


    The sea was pouring into the cavern when they''d made their way up.


    The underground creek had been fattened by salt water and the entire forest of stalagmites came sticking out a layer of water.


    Steam filled the air, from the tide smothering the fires of the foundry. When leaving the warp circle, they waved their arms in front of their faces trying to clear the air, but they could not banish the omnipresent mist.


    "Chaos." Lydia summarized quite neatly.


    "Grab all valuables, evacuate the people." Scratch said. "I''ll go to the devil altar."


    "Have you gone mad? We ought to stick together at least."


    "Whoever''s doing this is nearby, I can see the magic go haywire everywhere. If I can guess their true name, Bregornatis has enough magic to kill them. We''ll figure out how to pay later. If I can''t guess their true name, I need you to prepare for the worst."


    "Scratchie, I can''t leave you here to die-"


    "Do as I say!" He shouted.


    From sheer shock she turned fully into a wolf. Then she ran off.


    -


    Scratch ran through the stone passages of the trading hall. The water already up to the shins of his short legs.


    He went over all the names of enemies he had had over the last twenty years. The obsessive goblin slayer, the adventurers, bandits... he hadn''t often bothered learning their full names.


    "Siebrand... no... Mabel..."


    He stopped muttering to himself when he came to the mirror room. Haerwynn was gone and there was a stranger in front of the reflective surface. Some sort of merfolk examining herself within Bregornatis'' golden frame.


    She''d noticed him. "I never was a killer." She said, without turning around. "Can I still say that? Now that I''ve caused the death of so many on one day? Now that I''m going to, pointedly and deliberately, kill you."


    As she said it, frost raced along the sides of the wall, freezing shut the door and locking them hermetically into a box of ice. Elemental water began pouring from between her scales, adding to the physical liquid already in place and rapidly raising the waterlevel.


    She turned around, a blue fish woman with cold murder in her eyes.


    He didn''t recognize her.


    Scratch''s mind raced, narrowing down his enemies for those that hadn''t killed before. "How did you know I''d come here?" He asked, strafing to the side, ice cold water up to his waist.


    She followed him with her eyes and raised her hands. "I''ve had twenty-five years to prepare, of course I''d watch you from the depths, see you slink into these halls. Is this where you keep your poisons!?"


    A magic circle appeared in front of her, but before the spell could resolve he flicked his white wand out of his sleeve and reversed it on her, so that a freezing cold locked up her own arms and torso.


    "Twenty-five?" He asked, not able to suppress a slight smugness.


    She immediately broke out of her icy jacked and propelled through the water towards him.


    She had all the grace of a dolphin and he had none, so he easily closed her hand around his face and forced him into the water. His head banged against the stone floor and the weapon slipped from his grasp.


    "This is momentous for me," she said, as clear underwater as she had been in the air. "I''ve had to spend a lifetime on the ocean floor ''cultivating'' my ''power'' just to be able to kill you. After this, I''m finally free."


    His fingertips touched the wand, but she yanked him away and out of the water''s surface again. Dizzying him.


    He kicked his legs, but the water had risen so high that he couldn''t touch to floor.


    "Wait. Wait. Don''t you want to know what happened to your friends? You can still save them." He pleaded, lieing to her.


    "They''re not my friends," she hissed, "they''re the ones that got me wound up in all of this in the first place."


    Then she threw him across the room, towards the far wall and readied another spell.


    "Oh, I know. I know who you are!" Scratch yelled out, out of breath, fighting to keep his mouth above water. "Bregornatis!"


    Although half-submerged, the mirror lit up with a white mist behind the glass.


    "It''s that meddlesome journalist that wrote the expos¨¦ about my syndicate in the first place. You were here earlier because you didn''t die in a police shootout with the others, you died from a hit I orchestrated." He gasped for air. "I didn''t know the damn freaks had given you a potion as well. Bregornatis, he true name. Ms. Pulitzer! Wait, no-"


    Three beams of pressurized water shot through his torso. One in the stomach, one in his left lung, and one through his dominant shoulder. He rolled back into the water in considerable pain and with no chance to take another breath.


    The woman was charging towards him again and he was about to die regardless. He was in no state to think clearly, but the goblin body had perfect verbal memory, including a name underneath a true crime article from thirty years ago.


    He forced what air he had out of his lungs, barely tasting the salt water, and screamed at the mirror.


    Karen Muldover


    Karen''s image appeared within the mists behind the glass.


    She stopped in her tracks, guarding herself against whatever it was the mirror was about to do.


    It spoke. "My master must provide tragedy and lamentation to the court of shadows... this is the way of abyssal dance."


    Scratch clawed at it, in the process of drowning his fingers slipped across the glass. It merely watched him.


    "...What is happening?" Karen asked.


    "The goblin lord has made a bid for our power," it said, looking at Scratch fading out of consciousness. "But he has nothing more to offer us. In two decades, he never earned the title of demon king. Now, his empire will spawn more suffering in pieces than whole."


    "What do you mean, Good won, didn''t it?"


    "...As the court of shadows sees it, Good is not the opposite of Evil, Good is merely one of the faces of Evil. Your Good will drain the blood from the lands of corruption and demonkind will bathe in the gutters."


    "I have orders to sink this dungeon into the sea. Are you going to stop me?"


    "Of course not."


    "And the goblin lord?"


    "His last action was to grant me his soul, so that he would avoid the fury of Benesant for a little while longer."


    "...How long?"


    "That is not for me to say. Until Good triumphs."


    With a small doubt in her heart, she broke the mirror and escaped the building.


    <hr>


    Special Event: Reconstruction


    Adventurers from all regions are called upon to re-apply for adventuring status at the central adventuring bureau in Grienice, or lose their license. Candidates must disavow all gods but the true goddess of light, disavow the practice of status by birth, whether through bl?dschicht or nobility, and reject the authority of the old guilds.


    While reconstruction is ongoing, only the following quests are available:


    Purging the Corrupted Blood


    Adherents of the old regimes must be captured and brought to trial. Squads will be deployed by level of ability to take down former nobles, military holdouts, and adventurers that have become enemies of the revolution.


    Clearing the Cities


    All population centres that do not fall under the twelve great cities are to be cleared out and burned. Adventurers must direct civilians and possibly defend against agitators loyal to the old regime.


    Culling


    Low ranking adventurers will be send out among the tribes and warrens to exterminate all goblins. Each squad will be chaperoned by a high ranking case worker from the bureau to defend against ogres.


    Please observe the accompanying list of subhumans and their corresponding threat level. When spotting a goblin leader while within enemy territory, do not engage, inform a case worker.


    Glory to the revolution!

 Plunge the Depths

    The abyss was dark, and silent. But not so that one would think themselves gone blind and deaf.


    There was a presence to it, a gaping emptiness, like a maw about to close.


    Scratch was without a body and indelibly conscious of the blackness, it was all he could hear and see until the whispers of demonkind reached him.


    Whispers and wishes towards nobody, into the void.


    "Bregornatis," he said, "Youthere, somebody speak to me."


    A finger gestured for him to come and, through paths unchartable, he came. Somewhere at the other side of the world, where a dungeon had pierced into the abyss.


    Little speck of light as he was, he following the gesture.


    It was the incubus, Youthere, leaning on something invisible, summoning him. There was something different about him, the bangs that covered his eyes were combed back, revealing his piercing gaze. "I shan''t call you master anymore, because you no longer are." He said. "How should I call you? By your true name?"


    "Don''t speak nonsense. Get me out of this state." The speck Scratch tried to take control of the boy''s body, but nothing happened.


    "I''m afraid I''ll be your familiar no more." The demon said. "Did you believe you were able to bind me by the strength of your own soul? I willingly remained your slave for as long as I believed the forces of Evil would benefit. Alas, no more."


    He opened his mouth and Scratch, a tiny mote of spirit light, was briefly enveloped by his beastly jaws and slurping tongue. He jumped out of the way before the mouth could close around him.


    "Quit your messing around. If you haven''t noticed, the Promise has fallen. Get me somebody that can help me get another body... the lich, Rita, I don''t know. If we don''t re-establish order now they''ll run rough-shed over... over..."


    Youthere had folded his hands under his chin and nodded along in a sort of quasi, mocking expression. It gave him pause.


    The demon smirked. "Still in denial, are you? There''ll be no order of any kind, your underlings will be exterminated and your territory seized. No. Demonkind would really prefer that you stay dead.


    This way, the crumbles of your empire can at least be used to inspire further oppression. You''ve been a very big disappointment to all of us, Scratch."


    "E-exterminated?"


    "Yes! A huge disappointment." Youthere agreed with himself.


    "I have to find them." Scratch said.


    "Oh no, I''m sorry to say there''s no possible way for you to do that." Youthere said, not sorry. "Bregornatis and I discussed it extensively, power comes from a body and you have none. So there is no possible way for you to do anything."


    "For christ''s sake, quit your playing around. You''re here to help me, aren''t you, why else would you come down here?"


    "I came here to mock you." Youthere said, suddenly quite serious, "I came here to spit on you and your restrained evil. The family of temptation believed you to be our next king, and you would have been, had you shown the slightest commitment towards cultivating bloodthirst and sadism. Instead you wallowed in mere pride and greed, shallow, mortal evils. We can use your legacy better than yourself. Good riddance to you!"


    There fell a silence. Youthere smirked and turned to leave.


    "Think about your failings in the darkness."


    Scratch sputtered. "This isn''t the end. I refuse. There''s still sympathetic magic, there''s still family on the continent."


    "But you have no mana, never did." The demon ascended onto the stone steps into the world above.


    No matter how he tried, Scratch could not follow. The abyss held his soul.


    <hr>


    Never did have mana.


    Scratch had been able to use spellrods with the help of a leech demon. The creature had been able to digest his blood and convert it into a flow of magical energy.


    But it had also done something else. It had produced venom and had to be constantly controlled not to shoot it into his bloodstream. An unpleasant surprise after having made the pact.


    Perhaps that should have been a lesson not to trust demons.


    ....


    What IS mana?


    Scratch swirled around the faint light of the dungeon entrance, trying desperately to distinguish his own thoughts from the whispers of the unmade demons. The perfect verbal memory that goblins possess was gone, and he found himself struggling to remember anything.


    Mana is stored magic. Stored magic. It is released in parts to power spells, like floodgates for a watermill. That''s right, because magic flows ever down. Spells are just controlled release of it.


    Dungeons are just concentrated rivers down into the abyss.


    He could see the lines of magical flow pouring out of the opening. The stem of the dungeon, the concentrated slipstream of pure magic.


    You don''t need a flood-and-release system if the river itself is strong enough. That''s how sanctums work.


    He placed himself directly into the stem, close enough by the opening before it dissipated into all directions by the wide open space that was the abyss. But he was not a magical crystal.


    "How does this work." He wondered out loud.


    He could see clearly in his mind''s eye the circles and patterns that mirror had twisted the magic in to link individuals to their depictions, but he couldn''t replicate it.


    "Is that something of the body as well? It''s possible though, isn''t it?"


    The voices of the other demons grew louder, and he could less and less hear himself think.


    <hr>


    Rita had gotten rid of her jester costume. On reflection, she was a bit embarrassed by it.


    At the time she had attributed some symbolic meaning to it, having been made the fool by her family. But that was something nobody could have appreciated other than her. And then she had wound up killing the fire lady in it.


    She was much more presentable now, in middle-class moss green Promise wear, and quietly swore to herself never to dress up again.


    The panic was setting in.


    The other caf¨¦''s were shuttering their doors, goblin delivery boys ran hurriedly across the cobble and not to deliver anything, the streets were cleared out.


    She took another sip of her parfait.


    Goblins didn''t scare easily. Or rather, they didn''t scare quickly, only once it was too late. The boy waiting on her table was scared of her, and he hadn''t closed up shop when perhaps he wanted to.


    "What''s got everybody running for cover?" She asked him.


    "Oh! M-miss Rita. The city is getting flooded."


    "Flooded? Aren''t we two-hundred meters above- ah, so it is."


    There was a shimmer of water trickling through the cobblestones, rising up on the sidewalk and touching her heels.


    "Everybody is packing up. They say the whole city''s going to sink and the men of the green city are coming to kill everyone."


    She dug into her satchel for a value 1 bill and held it in front of her face. "Papa. What''s happening? I got the fire mage didn''t I?"


    But the salf-satisfied expression of the one-eyed goblin on the denomination remained frozen in time. There was no response.


    "He''s not at his mirror." She tossed it to the waiter boy as payment, "I''ll go look for myself."


    Her warp spell fizzled. As if the warp circle weren''t there.


    She looked at the boy and he gave her a difficult expression. So she pressed her fingertips together and levitated up, to gain a vantage point.


    The flow of magic was wrong. The roads and parks that had been designed to channel it towards the hungry maw of the dungeon laid limp with magic, like unremarkable city streets.


    And at the horizon, where the manor was supposed to stand nestled against the cliff-face, the stone had a hole in it showing the azure sea.


    -


    Two days later she again had a value 1 bill in her hand. The ferry had given it as change when she paid for entry into New Heiligdom.


    The man had taken one look at her bone-white skin and horns and come to his own conclusions. "You''re part of the ''family'' aren''t you? The spire is a safe haven for your kind, as long as you have money, you can sleep easy."


    She crinkled her nose at a peasant getting so close to her face.


    "Wh... say.... ow."


    "What?" She turned her head with the idea that the ferryman had said something to insult him.


    "Please, take a seat." He said, gesturing towards the mass produced cushion seating attached to the metal benches. The gondola was about the size of a medium sloop and could carry about as many people. For the journey, the passengers could sit on the basic seating and watch the world go by through the portholes.


    She stood over the cushion and lowered herself on it. It smelled musty.


    The college of magic had felt like a punishment coming off from her life of privilege at Reddington castle, but at least it had had private quarters and bedding. She had a horrifying premonition of a lifetime sitting on thin cushions and eating peasant bread.


    "R...ta.."


    She looked at the crumpled up note in her hand. "Oh, Papa." And folded it out.


    "Rita. Why aren''t you with the others?"


    "What others? Last time I was at the Promise the whole dungeon was gone."


    "Shadow bandits? Werewolves?"


    "Papa? Where are you? The whole region is overrun by foreigners. Whoever made it out, they''re heading towards the safe zones."


    "I want you to go back, establish order. With the sorcerers and adventurers on our side-"


    "Scratch, everybody thinks you''re dead. You are the one that''s kept everyone together this long, without you everybody has gone their own way. Ritter has disappeared the college into the clouds, corporations are bending the knee to this ''lords of the green city'' business, the whole world is occupied with protecting their own little pocket. I can turn this ship around but I cannot establish anything without you there."


    The image stared into nothing for a while. "I''m a little tied up at the moment. What are these safe zones?"


    "New Heiligdom, a few bandit towns... the Grienicians are imprisoning highborn so the palace towns are keeping them off."


    "Grienicians?"


    "Yes, the republicans from Grienice? They''re everywhere."


    "Rita... are you still ambitious?"


    She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I guess."


    "With me, the Grienicians have killed this world''s banking system. That''s fine by them because they forbid usury, but it means two things. First of all, a lot of prominent people in trade have lost a lot of money that had in their payment accounts, I mean devastating wealth-destroying amounts, and secondly, credit is gone, no more lending or capital build-up. This means the currency is about to go into a deflationary spiral. Do you know what that means?"


    "No?"


    "That means the dollar you''re holding is going to be a lot more precious in a few weeks when people realize how rare it''s become. Save up now, sell your dress, don''t buy anything. You''ll have a bit of money when the market stabilizes. I want you to take in family when I send them to you. Give them a hot and a kot and put them to work."


    "I''ve got to play mom for your lost spawn?" She whined.


    "That''s what it means to be a leader. If you''re going to be a queen, this is a good place to start... what''s the place?"


    "I''m on a ferry to New Heiligdom. But Papa-"


    "A good place to start. I''ll reach out to the others.


    <hr>


    It took a bit of finagling, but the sympathetic magic reached everywhere his image had.


    Going back and forth between various family members, Scratch could organize two groups. Those who had escaped to the surface, and those who hadn''t.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    As Youthere had said, Lydia and most of the core family had drowned during evacuation, but there was a village worth''s of subhumans still in the underworld desert, in the homesteads surrounding the troll garden. The cavern leading up to the lion''s head had been wrest from the earth and dragged unto the sea, but that underworld expanse couldn''t be taken by the sea.


    What had happened was that the underground river that fed the garden had been poisoned by sea water. The whole farm had been salted and become dead earth. Even the grass and trees between the houses had begun to die.


    The kids had panicked and turned against each other, but the voice of their Papa could get them to calm down. Cooler heads prevailed and amongst themselves they were able to chart a course of action. They''d boil as much sea water as they could to fill up their vases and vessels with distilled moisture, then don their most protective clothing and trek into the desert.


    Somewhere the plane had to connect to the overworld once more.


    They dug out Cyclophan''s shard and left the dragons where they were. With the dungeon collapsed, the small god didn''t have much power, but he could one day prove useful. He was built into a food cart as the floor.


    -


    The situation on the surface was more complex.


    The new world order had cast itself as a people''s revolution, headquartered in Youthere''s Grienice.


    Their ambition was not just on the downfall of the Promise, but of all noble houses. The dispossessed goblins could ally with the noble houses that had once been their vassals (and some that hadn''t) to fortify their palace cities against the men of the green city.


    Most didn''t make it and were swallowed up by the new Grienician empire. But their were a few loose coalitions that could establish a territory with the help of their ogres.


    -


    As Scratch had predicted, access to money for all sides of the conflict plummeted, and violence became the new currency.


    Not self-sufficient, the palace cities raided the farms and caravans of the Grienician''s people''s collective, who in turn attacked their own enterprises with the ambition to weaken their power and capture ancient treasures.


    Much of the unique industries of the Promise were destroyed forever. Even with the men of the green city reclaiming the fallen metropolis, alchemical plants and advanced machinery couldn''t be revived. Along with the new age of strife, it rang in hunger and disease for the continent.


    -


    Following these events play out, Scratch felt as if the millions of value 1 bills bearing his image were strings connecting him to the world. Like a massive web of twine that anchored him to reality, little lines he could pull individually to nudge things to his liking. He became eager to make Benesant regret this attack.


    But as the weeks went by, the dream of reclaiming a body without the goddess'' help became ever fainter.


    The goblins of the palace towns kept the use of currency alive, even valuing the smallest denomination above its fiat for the connection it offered to their papa. The goblins of the underworld desert had no need for money and spoke to him via small wooden effigies. But the Grienician empire worked its hardest to block him out.


    -


    He suspected his old familiar of having a hand in the policy. Anybody could have suspected he might have a window through the value one bills, but only a disciple of his would so quickly mimic the method of replacing currency.


    As the citizens of the overworld still counted their wealth in goblin money, they couldn''t simply be commanded to burn it in exchange for an unproven coin. Especially those who remembered the fall of the gold value. Instead Youthere, or those directed by him, had done what Scratch had once done. They had issued money backed by the old currency, always guaranteed against a stockpile in the city treasury. In a few decades, they would have gotten used to counting in Grienician Thaler, and the removal of the goblin guarantee would cause no great protest. Right now, they sat in a dark vault and were no gateway to anyone.


    <hr>


    The weeks turned to months and then years, and Scratch began to grow dull. He''d repeated the same cliches to so many of his offspring that the whole process had become an unthinking routine. Blackouts in his memories where he had had entire conversations with ambitious followers without being consciously aware. Now more common than his lucid time.


    He would have worried about the unthinking time swallowing up all of his essence and becoming a prattling machine like the disembodied whisperers, if that thought had not too been worn out.


    -


    But he was stirred once more when the strings that connected him began to disappear.


    One by one, something was plinking away at his presence in the world of the living.


    He was in the effigies of the desert tribe. Now dwindled but hardened by the environment, capable of survival and shepherding a next generation.


    He was there with the trading palace towns, increasingly there for the sake of the goblins rather than the other way around.


    And he still had his limited presence within the Grienician empire.


    But in all these places, his presence was thinning.


    "Rita," he said, "can you still hear me? How goes the plan?" His voice came through in a mask ornament within her private quarters.


    "Hhm? Ah, papa Scratch. I can still hear you."


    She had herself attended to by a cadre of incubi. Each being shapen by her own ideal they were identical.


    She barely looked up from the pedicure/manicure/full body massage.


    "The plan goes... well you know how it goes... same as always."


    "You''re shirking your mission," he admonished, "we need to defeat Benesant before I can pass on. What have you done to prepare for the battle with the second wyrm?"


    "Well I... I kind of have my own thing going on now, you know? I''ll get back to it."


    The mask paused. "Benesant killed your entire adoptive family."


    "Yeah? Will killing her bring them back?"


    "What!? No, but-" For some reason her callousness angered him. "Well no."


    "Okay, so... kinda doing my own thing."


    He couldn''t explain why what she''d said was so offensive to him. She was following her own best interest, had he ever expected anything from anyone other than that? "I think the empire has caught on to my trick. They''re burning currency- are those demons you''ve got there?"


    Rita groaned and dismissed the men. They backed away bowing.


    "It''s like you don''t know anything. We''re working together with the green city."


    "I think you''re forgetting something here. The men of the green city want to kill all noble-born, they''re hardcore revolutionaries."


    "...That was years ago." She sighed, "we came to an understanding with the political families."


    "Families?"


    "Governorship is a family business, just like any menial trade. Really, they''re just like noble families fighting to protect their power, but instead of spell and sword it''s with money and lies. That''s how I think of it. The Guero family vetoes military decisions in the senate and in return we send them some boys every year."


    Scratch looked around in the room where he was situated. There was an opulence to it, and the demons that stood humbly to the side stifled smug grinning. "What is going on? Since when are we selling kids to demons?" He was just asking bewildered questions now, unsure of any of the machinations going on. Now I know what it''s like to be Cyclophan... I don''t like it.


    "They''re not slaves," Rita said as she stood up and bathed her stark white skin in the sunlight, "they go there as ''refugees'' to increase the voting block. Ever since the breaking of the Promise Grienice has had a policy of accepting all non-humans claiming persecution with no proof of identity. Let''s see, how did Youthere put it...? ''They will be life-long children, never responsible for one another, always the responsibility of others. Thus the republicans may agitate how they are left in destitution and the monarchists may complain about having to feed the children of another, but neither will raise them to be self-sufficient."


    "Rita, incubi are demons of temptation." Scratch said carefully. "I send him over there because I didn''t want him corrupting the culture at home in the Promise. You''re sending young boys to be brainwashed, that''s not what we want."


    She looked at him and laughed. "That''s not what you want. But the world has left you behind, Papa Scratch. You came to ask me why your image is disappearing? Because you''re no longer relevant, that''s why. The goblins are forgetting you, the indulgent narratives of demonic temptation are their new religion."


    She gestured towards the window and by extension the general masses outside.


    "You think this flood of skin and flesh is your family? Your family''s dead, alongside you. There''s nothing here for you to be fighting for."


    He was taken aback. "And what about you? You''re just... doing your own thing?"


    "I''m just enjoying myself while I still can. If anything is going to goad out the goddess of light herself, it''ll be something the demons in Grienice cooked up. The whole city is their testing ground after all.


    But when that happens, alright, I''ll set our plan in motion. Only then."


    "...Will I be there to see it?"


    "I don''t care."


    <hr>


    He wasn''t.


    Over the next century the decline of his legacy went very quickly. The undergrounders found and mixed into other underworld cultures of dwarves and dark elves, Cyclophan found a new dungeon master, the palace town goblins started using the new republican credit system, and any depictions of him if there were any began to be mixed with ancestors of other sagas until they could hardly say to be his image at all.


    The sprawling web that had connected him to the world had dwindled into a handful of threads and he began to feel like a tight-rope walker dangling above the pit after failing his act and barely holding on.


    The last few bits of Scratch in the world of Lite were ancient artifacts and curiosities, kept in darkness and then... none.


    -


    He tumbled through the darkness.


    If his soul were to be taking out of the abyss and into Benesant''s domain, he would once again be at her mercy. He had as good as eradicated her religion while in power and she wouldn''t make the mistake of giving him a goblin body a third time.


    Why does it always come down to this? Is this my inevitable fate? To be judged? Perhaps I should have been making peace with the higher power, self-reflect, become a better-


    A point of light showed itself. A last thread impossibly small and far away that he had never noticed before in the light of the others. He eagerly snatched and escaped.


    <hr>


    Scratch opened his eyes and tried to move, but only his largest joins cooperated.


    Like a man dancing the robot he wrestled himself loose from some sort of foam he was in and pushed away a flexible transparent force-field.


    He was still trying to focus his eyes when he took a step forward and felt his foot impact wood with a hard solid *tock* sound.


    He tested the ground again, and leg tapped against it like he was made of solid material.


    He looked at his hands, and first felt relief to see his familiar moss green goblin fingers once again, but then noticed a shininess and lack of detail. He tested them and they were of a hard unmoving substance.


    It took him a moment to realize what was familiar about it. It was something that had once been common in his life, but not for some time.


    Plastic.


    The wood he was standing on was part of a giant shelf, and he had just wormed himself out of a display box, not the only one lined up against the back.


    He was still trying to catch his bearing, turning to see the room the shelf looked out over, when he came face to face with what was to him a giant man. A chubby-cheeked colossus with glasses, staring mouth agape at the moving miniature.


    "Y-you''re not the goblin all-father, are you?"


    Scratch looked up at him, looming and fat. "Depends on who''s askin''."


    "But that''s impossible. You''re from my isekai world, how did you...?"


    "It''s best not question these things." Scratch said. "Who are you, where is this place?"


    "I''m Stevie. This is my studio." The giant said nervously.


    -


    It had seemed like a large open space, but compared to its owner, it was a relatively small room.


    Display cases of figurines and colorful posters took up ever inch of space so that there was nowhere to put one''s eyes that wasn''t an assault on the senses.


    There was a stained mattress next to the door and desk with laptop on the other side, on which a deep blue orb glowed magically.


    "I normally don''t get a lot of visitors." Stevie said. He snatched one of the miniatures nearby as if protective of it and put it away out of sight.


    Scratch pointed. "Take me to that ball next to your computer."


    The man was hesitant to touch him so he held up an old comic book for the plastic man to stand on and transported him to the bureau. "That''s the world of Lite, where you come from." He placed him down. "You see I''m- I''m a writer, and I write about the things going on there. The people of my world, a certain subset of them, they''re really interested. These figurines I have... they''re collectibles. We just released an expansion in the card game about the goblin empire."


    Scratch touched the outside glass with his plastic hands. Inside the starry sea he could see Lite floating, flat as a pancake. "Is it actually, you know in there?"


    "Y- yeah. I assume so."


    "And you''re just a regular person? This isn''t some celestial realm above reality, and you''re not a divine creator."


    "No." The man almost laughed saying it. "I''m a shut-in from the north. I bought this thing online. Oh... online is like a series of tubes we use to communicate-"


    "I know what the internet is Stevie, goddamn. I''m from the city too. This is the real world- I mean the previous world, I mean Cradle! Lite is just a snow globe on your desk..." He violently smacked his plastic face. "And you''re the author. The one that put all those heroes there."


    "You''re not saying... you''re from here?"


    "Of course I am. Do you have any idea how many people have been getting sucked into this thing?"


    He was stunned for a moment. "N-no. The only people that are supposed to get isekai-ed are those I pick myself. Thought you were native to the goblin population."


    "You had nothing to do with it?"


    "I- That''s why I''m confused. The device lets me reincarnate fans of my work that have recently died, you''re saying there''s others?"


    Scratch tapped that glass. "This thing''s been leaking. Benesant- you know the goddess? She''s been picking up and gathering souls across all sorts of worlds. I ended up butting heads with her on... a legal disagreement, and- well look at me."


    The eyes behind the spectacles grew wide. "She turned you into a toy!?"


    "No man. She trapped me in your world ball. I can only reach out to you now because you made a toy based on me. Listen, you''re the one really in charge though, aren''t you? You can do anything to a soul coming in?"


    "Yes. I can even make them gods. You''ve met my friends from highschool, they''re gods there."


    "Let''s figure out a deal."


    -


    Half an hour of negotiations later, Scratch had written down a set of instructions on the back of an envelope with an enormous ballpen.


    "This is the combination for my rainy day fund. Couple of million in untraceable cash. It''s all yours. Enough to put your career on pause for a bit, no?"


    "Hah." The man gleamed but then soured. "But I can''t isekai you. The ball lets me add powers when a soul transitions from here to there... you''re already inside."


    "I don''t want any more isekai-ing from you. What I need you to do is cut off reincarnation completely, so Benesant can''t send her cronies after me again. Can you do that? Cut them off?"


    "I don''t know..." He sat down to stare at the ball. "Wait... maybe- yes. Benesant''s realm is in the celestial plane of this world, so if I turn off this valve... she''ll only be able to receive and place souls within the world of Lite."


    "You seem to know what you''re doing. That''s great. How much time is passing inside right now? There''s a mismatch, isn''t there?"


    "Usually a lifetime passes by within a couple of years. I tend to be finished writing about someone''s adventures just before they start, then the next person can be born in time to live through that adventure."


    Scratch stared at him for a moment. "And that''s how you make a living."


    Stevie fumbled with his glasses, feeling called out. "I mean, it''s still a lifetime to them. I give souls that passed too early a second life to live out their fantasies... magic, adventures... friends..." he became wistful for a moment. "It''s everything a nerd wishes for."


    "Well that''s pathetic. Why Japanese?"


    "They''re my main audience. Japan loves isekai, look, I have some manga here about my light novel." He grabbed some comic books and held up the insides to the toy. "That''s Abyss. He''s reincarnated with his whole school bus after they crash, but they betray him and it''s this whole... This story ends with him becoming the demon king. It''s pretty metal."


    "Metal? He destroys the world, doesn''t he?" Scratch asked. "You''re okay with that?"


    "Well he doesn''t -destroy- destroy it. He just turns the overworld into, sort of, a world of darkness for a few decades, and then his successor is the villain for the next story. I like to have a demon king raze the world from time to time, so history doesn''t build up too long and too complicated, but it all goes back to normal in the end... Oh! Want to see your whisk card?"


    "I can''t believe it."


    Stevie put away the comics to rummage to a drawer. "Yeah. Whisk cards are manifested to use for a collectible card game we''re publishing. Your goblins are actually the face of-"


    "You''re killing thousands and you don''t give a shit. It''s actually amazing!"


    "Oh." He flushed red. "That''s- You were trying to become demon king too. Didn''t you spread an addictive substance and create bandit cities?"


    Scratch put his tiny plastic hands on his hips. "Yeah, I''m a thug, I admit it. I go over bodies sometimes to get what I want, but killing isn''t the point. I did it to create a safer world for my family."


    A bit miffed, Stevie put the collectibles down harshly. "Well that didn''t work out for you, did it? You know... I''ve seen a lot of people come and go and it''s always the ''ends justify the means'' guys that end up feeling betrayed by the end. In the end it''s all those years of making it happen that make up your life, what you get at the end is just as temporary as anything else. I- I mean to say, you didn''t think you''d get to the finish line and everybody would be safe forever, did you?"


    Scratch looked away, avoiding his eyes. "Not my place to judge you, I suppose. I have nobody to protect now. I''ll just need to take Benesant down."


    "When you let go of this body..." the man said more gently, "your soul will be taken in by Benesant''s realm. She will not be kind to you picking your next life. On top of that, Abyss stands to take over the world unopposed. It''s going to be a chaotic period. Are you prepared for that?"


    He spread his arms. "I''ve been on the back foot before. That''s where I''m at my strongest."


    "Very well." Stevie flicked him with his fingers.


    When the toy fell down, it was a lifeless object.


    <hr>


    Popular Author Implicated in Drug Trade


    You may not recognize his name, but Stevie Lauer has a dedicated international audience. As ghostwriter for several publications he is responsible for a veritable deluge in fantasy stories. His works have been adapted in comics, video games, and even cartoons. (''Manga'' and ''Anime'' according to some.)


    But now Lauer is in the spotlight for a less glamorous reason. He was taken in by police after attempting to take money from a safety deposit box they say has been used by a recently deceased drug lord.


    Law enforcement have been staking out this depot for months, lying in wait for the criminal''s accomplices to finally show themselves and last Friday, they finally got one.


    Lauer claims to be innocent, but if he wants to prove he had nothing to do with the drug money, he will have to explain how he knew it was there. Either way, fans will need to wait a bit longer for the next issue of their favorite manga.


    >>Read all about the recent crackdown on drug gangs on page 6

 The Vengeful Grind

    The wedding of Princess Selina and the hero Yamamoto did not live up to expectation.


    Firstly, there was a dispute among some of the hero''s female comrades, and some had to be excluded from the festivities.


    Secondly, some sort of uprising in nearby Promise-controlled lands shook the peace and distracted the high nobles from their adoration of the pair.


    And lastly, a demon clown appeared at the reception, cursing the bride and groom to sleep eternal.


    -


    She had blended in as a performing jester, with face painted bone-white, but had suddenly jumped on top of the ice sculpture to address the party-goers.


    "Attention in-breds! It''s me. If I could take some time out of your busy schedule of slander and sycophancy, I''m here to receive my birthright.


    "Enough of this." The armed men guarding the proceedings stepped up to the display and the captain drew his sword. "This is not the stage for your tomfoolery. Get down from there."


    The jester idly flicked her hand at them. At once the weapons of all guards wrested themselves free from them and held up against their throats.


    It was a magic beyond what any there thought possible, as each blade moved individual and with precision, without any exacting will from the caster. Rather, she let the weapons to their business as if they were will separate from her own, as she searched the faces in the crowd.


    Balancing on one toe she pirouetted on the ice like a dancer, taking view of the whole circumference of the room, until she had found who she was looking for. "There''s the happy couple."


    With a graceful leap over the heads of the heads of high nobility, she landed in front of the princess and her groom.


    "I couldn''t make it to the bridal shower, should I give my gift now? Or should I wait until you''ve arrived in hell?"


    "Get behind me Selina." Yamamoto said, and shielded her with his body.


    But the jester didn''t seem to register him as a thread. "Where''s the mother of the bride," she asked, "overcome with pride and sentimentality for her little girl growing up?"


    "She''s dead. The queen has died last month after a struggle with illness." The princess said softly.


    The clown paused, seeming lost for a moment, then she regained her wicked demeanor. "Ah, a wedding coronation combined! How economical. Then I''m speaking to the monarch bride herself. Will you take accountability for the sins of your station?"


    "Yamamoto!" Someone from the crowd called out and tossed him his katana.


    He grabbed it out of the hear and unsheathed it. "Sorry Selina, I broke my promise. I did smuggle my weapon in."


    "Never mind that promise." She sighed with relief. "Show her your swordplay."


    But as he lunged, the white woman simply spun to step aside and kicked the weapon out of his hand.


    It went flying with such force that it exploded into a marble pillar, throwing up dust.


    Before he knew it, she had him in a vice grip. One hand twisting his arm, the other in his throat.


    "It used to be..." she said ominously, "that heroes earned the right to ask for a princess'' hand only after extraordinary, world-saving feats. S-rank heroes. What rank would you have gotten in those days, Yamamoto?"


    "Cunt." Selina said, finding strength and bravery despite her fear. "Let go of him."


    A murmur went up amongst the crowd, perturbing the clown.


    "...Or what?" She threatened.


    "Let. Go of him."


    She threw the man to the floor. "Tell me what to do will you? Attack me with a sword and then play the victim. That was always your problem. No... I say you inherit the sins of the mother."


    Strange purple energy coalesced as the jester twirled her hands above her.


    Discordant, organic magic circles filled the space.


    "See you in a hundred years, bitch!"


    The next moment, bride and groom were turned to stone. Or rather a heavy stone-like metal.


    The nobles stood in shock at the display of magic, and those among the guards that had regained control over their weapons made no attempts to approach the caster.


    The magic circles still hung in the air, and when the demon clown looked up, they spring in alignment with her gaze, targeting whoever she was looking at.


    "Who will throw themselves after their queen? Haah? Have the lords and ladies of the red city felt the power of permanent transmutation?" She pointed at a thin woman in the back. "You''d make a spectacular bovine."


    As she spoke the sky grew red outside, fire filling the air.


    She looked up, surprised.


    "I can''t believe the luck of you people. I suppose your savior showed up. Anybody that''s still here when I get back will be hexed."


    Demonstrating her strength, she kneeled down and then jumped up and out through the cathedral roof to confront an aerial foe.


    In the next few minutes the guests trampled each other trying to get out.


    <hr>


    The dark sorceress never returned, and after a few days people dared come into the hall once more.


    The bride and groom were cursed with a potent and unbreakable magic. The most powerful mages still in the employ of the Reddington court could not unearth the true nature of its working.


    Nor could the strongest men lift or move the petrified pair. Their weight was beyond measure, locked in place by the white woman''s magic.


    After a two afternoons mucking about with ropes and pulleys, the workmen began to notice it was a weight dragging down the entire palace.


    The small steps leading up to the main and servants'' entrances had sunk in the earth, and the neat stone plinthing at the underside of the walls had begun to disappear.


    The men proclaimed the site cursed and fled the city. Though their superstition might not have been as strong a factor as the riches offered by the foreign legions of the expanding Grienician empire.


    -


    Regardless, the building continued to sink.


    Even without a monarch, especially without their monarch, the Reddingtonians had to preserve passageway into their halls of power, and of course access to the petrified pair. So the earth around the doorways was dug up and the mechanisms of state continued on for a while.


    A temporary governor position was established, to wield the powers of the crown without ever wearing it, and a well respected duke received the honor. A symbolic compensation for his loss of land under recent developments.


    -


    But the building continued to sink.


    The pits into the old buildings were becoming steep drops, so wooden staircases were installed, as well as alternative entrances at some of the upper-story windows.


    Pouncing on the chaotic and reduced state of the red country, the Grienician military declared war outright. Their justification, as always, the elimination of noble birthright within the continent.


    Reddington was outmatched, but small holdouts held their ground, including the capital city. Now filled to the brim with impoverished nobles that had lost their lands and lived on the dole of the city.


    The governor position became rotated amongst rivaling families.


    -


    Still, the building continued to sink.


    Now there was no light within the halls of power, as the windows displayed only stone and dirt pressed against the glass.


    The different entrances were narrow ladders into the depths, and fore-offices were constructed were bureaucrats could sit and get their affairs in order before plunging the depths. They became an entire ring, a halo circling above the palace''s outsides.


    By this time the city was forced to invite in a garrison of hobgoblins and other subhumans. The abhumans filled in the rank-and-file for defending against the still belligerent Grienice.


    With such a high ratio of noble-born citizens, they could do with the manual labor.


    -


    The sinking continued.


    And by the time the original palace had been completely swallowed up, the state of affairs had become normal to Reddington.


    Every year the palace outgrowth had to be extended, as all that had been added before was being dragged downwards by the magic locked in that immovable pair.


    Thus the Reddington palace became a subterranean maze. A series of floors and steps down into the greater depths and, as was becoming increasingly clear to all, remarkably shaped like a dungeon.


    -


    Years passed, the current generation grew old and the new generation grew up. The sinking palace of Reddington a mundane fact of life. Through intermarriage, there was scarcely a human left who did not have some claim of noble blood, and the goblins became their only peasantry.


    The conflict with the green city cooled down, though peace was never officially declared, and the Reddington state worked to regain some of its dignity.


    Money from relatives working in Grienice''s adventuring guild, smuggling of old Promise artifacts, and the refinement of various fire-based disciplines earned them some riches. This led to the newest levels of the palace-turned-dungeon being build wide open and spacious. Opulent marble halls meant to match the grandeur their ancestors had once erected the dragon-slaying statues outside with.


    The old halls of the original palace were now visited only in quiet reverence, like a church. And even the lower levels of the outgrowth obtained a sense of elderly stateliness.


    It took another few decades, but the opulent halls above eventually disappeared too and absorbed that same aged stillness.


    -


    The Reddington culture was fading now. The noble blooded offspring of the original inhabitants had internalized the Grienician worldview and dispersed among the lands outside. The city was mostly goblin now.


    The hobgoblin culture was alive and well, mixing and exchanging ideas with those of similar palace towns. Their elders kept close guard on their education and warned greatly against books and ideas carried over from the green city, ideas of lost goblin heritage and overthrowing of their human masters. Such words, they said, were insidious weapons designed to make their species weak and entitled.


    The sinking palace was increasingly seen as an old curiosity, access maintained only for historical value. A single winding staircase to the great hall was maintained, which could be extended with modular pieces at any time. Rumors began to emerge of ancient groups of goblins that had gotten lost in the underground maze, that were still down there, feral and dangerous.


    -


    More than seven decades after the palace had begun sinking into the ground, the city finally fell to Grienice.


    An ogre had taken offense to a diplomat suggesting he owed more loyalty to the goblins in the green city than the humans in the red city on account of his race, and had slain him on the spot.


    Enough reason for the mighty Grienician empire to regain its focus and finally crush the aged monarchical holdout.


    Under republican rule, the buildings honoring heroes of the old regime were torn down, the Promise notes currency was done away with, and the old palace was sealed off.


    A new series of buildings, in a new architectural style went up around the spiral staircase, but they too were swallowed into the ground.


    By this time the presence of genuine monsters within the halls became clear. The magical flow of dungeon architecture had produced an ecology fit for magical flora and cave creatures. Including, indeed, lost feral goblin tribes.


    The site became of interest to counter cultural Grienicians, who glorified the old princely ways that their government was trying to obscure, and exploring the dungeon become a favored past-time of adventurers.


    The industry of old Reddington became geared towards accommodating tourists, populated mostly by seasonal workers from neighboring lands. When the demonic catastrophe occurred, and


    Grienice was destroyed, the flow of tourists stopped and Reddington became abandoned as a ghost town.


    Nobody was there to notice the sinking had stopped.


    <hr>


    The underside of the palace had looked very differently during all this time.


    As it had sunk down into the underworld, the walls that had served to keep out the pressing dirt now kept the insides from spilling out into the arid underground.


    Pulled ever down by the accursed statues, it breached the floor of the cavern and pushed on. Into the deep darkness of the abyss.


    The diligent construction of different masters enabled it to dangle long and precarious, like hanging guts, into the nothing. Lower than any other dungeon in the world of Lite. Until, eventually, it dipped into the last layer, the deepest one.


    One hundred years after the jester had cast her mighty curse, the underside of the palace pushed onto the sulfuric bedrock. The towering tendril above pushed in, condensed and settled. That was when the sinking had stopped.


    It was then that the petrification of the bride and groom suddenly dissipated.


    They gasped for air and reached for each other, disoriented and confused.


    The towering majestic windows of the great hall shone with the red light of hell.


    <hr>


    "Stay behind me Selina, we are not alone."


    "What''s happening? Were is everybody?"


    "I don''t know, but I can sense power nearby. It may be that devil woman." He briefly glanced behind him as he was shielding her. "Do you know her?"


    Selina didn''t answer.


    "You were foul-mouthed with her, that was unlike you." He said.


    "Yamamoto... I want to get out of here."


    They snuck to the darkened halls, haunted by the ruby shine in the windows, until they found the foyer where they expected it.


    However, at the other end of the door was not the streets of Reddington, but wooden steps leading up into darkness.


    "What''s happening? This is madness!"


    "Stick close to me, okay?"


    -


    So began their long ascent upward.


    In their journey they encountered demons, beasts, and goblins.


    They found others wandering the dungeon. Foragers willing to trade for food, and fellow wanderers.


    The constant battle for survival honed their skills. His as a swordsman, her as a healer and fire mage.


    When they finally emerged from the staircase and out into the sunlight, they''d become very different people.


    -


    "Air! Fresh air! I''d forgotten how it smelled." Selina gasped.


    Yamamoto embraced her from behind to share the moment with her, and both watched the sun disappear behind the clouds.


    "You two must have been underground a long time." Their fellow wanderer said. "How did you even get down there?"


    Don had ran into them around halfway towards the surface and said he''d been on his way topside as well. As a lock-pick and way-finder he filled in the third spot in their trio.


    The fourth was an aging ogre named Mann, that had entered the dungeon from the underworld and supplied the brute strength.


    "I told you before, and it was the truth." Yamamoto said. "We were transported, palace-and-all, to the bottom of this maze. The masonry of the Reddington throne is still down there."


    "No magic in the world that strong." Mann said.


    "Yet, it''s the truth." He said, willing it to be true.


    "Goodness, we must be presumed dead." Selina said. "We''ve been in that infernal maze for months! Let''s waste no more time. Don, Mann, will you fight with us still?"


    "Ho there little lady," Don mulched. "It''s one thing claiming to be the princess of some made-up country. It''s a whole ''nother thing getting me to play the role of lackey. We''re all on the surface now, I gots my place I gotta go. I''m sure the ogre does too-"


    "How can you not have heard of Reddington!" Yamamoto fell out at him. "The kingdom of fire! One of the four great nations!"Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "Yeah? What''s it look like?"


    "The capital is still sovereign, if that jester hasn''t taken it over. A tall mountain, watching out over the rolling hills, with monuments to the dragon slayers of... of old..."


    Having taken in the fresh air and peace-meal sunlight, their gaze fell on the lands below. And his words began to feel like a narration.


    The buildings were gone, the steps ripped out, and different architecture put in its place. But just as from the steps of the palace before the wedding, they looked out over a steep slope and distant rolling hills.


    "I remember tales of fire kingdom." Mann said. "Long ago, in time of distant elder and great goblin city. There was four lands. Water, fire, wind, and..."


    "Earth?" Don offered helpfully.


    "Don''t remember the last one. But the water kingdom took ''em all over, and our ancestors had to flee to the below. Was last wish of my Mama that I see the upper world again."


    "This ''water kingdom''..." Don said. "Wouldn''t mean the Grienician empire, would it?"


    As the sun peeked out from behind the clouds again, the great marble colossus that framed their view came into stark contrast. It was the broken off upper body of what had once been a statue honoring an ancient dragon slayer.


    In hind-sight, it should have been very obvious.


    <hr>


    Selina was so affected by the revelation that she took a week to recover.


    In that time they learned about the history of the city from some former scholars, who were squatting in the remains of the abandoned city.


    One was able to describe quite captivatingly how the goblin banks and the three kingdoms had been crushed by the Grienician empire after it had undergone a sudden growth in magical and technological capability. And how that very same Grienician empire succumbed to demonic influence at the height of its power, leaving the world to the lord of Darkness.


    "Ah, that was a time of heroes." The historian said. "The adventuring profession became centralized to the great city, akin to an unofficial branch to their military. When those green gates closed on the world... they left it to the shadows."


    "Why didn''t the other kingdoms build militia to defend themselves?" Selina asked, horrified.


    "By then, they had already lost that ability. The Grienician empire had rooted out the noble houses concerned with martial strength, and taken away the trade and infrastructure that allowed them to militarize. It was quite sensible at the time... the guild would always be there to defend them and this way there would be no risk of an uprising. They couldn''t have predicted their fall."


    "Or they could have, and that was the point." Don said. "They knee-capped the world in order to serve it up to the demon king."


    "Of conspiratorial mind!" The scholar laughed. "I have some colleagues developing the same theory. That it was Abyss'' demons that guided the development of the empire from the very start. They do call him the demon king after all."


    "Do you know anything about what happened here, a century ago?" Yamamoto asked him. "About the witch that cursed the palace. Was she send by Abyss as well?"


    "We have records of an ''uninvited guest'' from that time. Her description matches the white lady, who serves under the demon king today as one of his seven generals. So... it depends on who you ask, but I consider it very credible that she was."


    The hero clutched his sword. "So she''s still alive."


    The historian raised his eyebrows. "Well... of course. The demon king''s generals are long-lived monsters of various species. The white lady is in charge of the inquisition, hunting down the last vestiges of humanity."


    "And where is she now?"


    Don laughed. "What are you going to do? Challenge one of the demon king''s generals to a sword fight?"


    "As long as Abyss rules this world, we will not be safe." Selina said.


    "You can''t be serious!"


    "Write this down for your history of the world," Yamamoto told the scholar, "the age of heroes is back."


    <hr>


    Their journey took them to all corners of the world. From the yellow wastes all the way to the mysterious mist islands in the east.


    The climb up from the sunken palace had honed their skills enough to survive in a world overtaken by demons, their quest through the ruined world grew them even further.


    No records exist of this adventure, as the author was not present to divine it. But all-in-all, it was a journey of heroism, revenge, and personal growth.


    A scarce few times they encountered the white lady, prancing around out of range from their attacks and mocking them.


    In the end, they defeated all six other generals before they had a chance to confront her.


    -


    The inquisition army had struck the earth near the damned city of Grienice.


    The powers of darkness understood very well that they were under attack, and Abyss had recalled his last general and her forces to his headquarters.


    Just as well for the royal pair, who seized the opportunity to finally pin her down. Even if it was going to be on her terms.


    -


    Under the cries and noises from within the green city, the heroes managed to sneak into the fortified inquisition camp.


    They were discovered before reaching the general''s mobile palace, but with high-level magic and advanced swordplay they were able to keep the guards at bay and make a charge for the white lady.


    She''d been expecting them.


    -


    "Hello again." She said, mildly amused and reclined on a sofa.


    She had barely aged since a hundred years ago, though a tinge of maturity had rounded her figure.


    Handsome shirtless men surrounded her to attend to her every need. Superficially, they looked human, but human beings would not carry the expressions they did serving their exterminator.


    With a flick of her hand, she commanded the guards to stay away. "I take it you''re here to kill me, finally?"


    "Cunt!" Selina said.


    "Whoa, language." The lock-pick said.


    "There''s no nice language for one such as her." Yamamoto defended, and pointed at her with his sword.


    The white lady''s mouth twitched. "How dare you call me by that name?"


    "But that is your name, isn''t it?" The princess said. "Sister."


    Yamamoto looked at her with new eyes. "Your evil sister with the whore make-up that tried to have me executed?"


    "What are you so shocked about, womanizer?" Melina scoffed. "I''ve waited one hundred years for your thick heads to thaw, I don''t know why I expected it''d make you any more interesting. ...Excuse me, how long are you going to be wearing that disguise?"


    "What?"


    "Now''s your chance," Don said. "This is what you''ve been training for all this time."


    The white lady looked at him directly. "Come over here so I can rip your face of."


    With a threat like that, the time for talk was over. Yamamoto charged.


    -


    The resulting battle was worthy of a dragon slayer.


    The two lovers and their combat-oriented party members unleashed strength and mana scarcely seen for a century, honed by their travels.


    The white lady''s minions did nothing more than prevent escape, as she matched their strength in a deadly duel.


    None can accurately recount all the tricks and techniques employed in this final clash, but it went on for several minutes of fast-paced combat.


    Eventually, the lock-pick they had tried to shield was taken a hold of by the white lady and, as she had promised, she dug her nails in his neck and cleanly tore off the flesh, so that his skull was exposed. He sunk to the ground.


    "Don!" Selina gasped. "You witch, he was never a threat."


    "You''re wrong about that. Maybe not to me." She spat. "Weren''t you going to kill me?"


    The second half of the fight both sides had expended much of their strength, but without a non-combatant to protect, the heroes'' superior numbers tipped the scale and they forced the general on her knees.


    She gasped, knowing that she''d been beat.


    The inquisition goons did not budge from their post to help her, though they received a suspicious side-eye from the princess.


    Melina looked up. "I just want to say-" But she was interrupted.


    With a clean swing of his blade, Yamamoto cut her head off.


    -


    As they paused to catch their breath, a slow clap emanated from the sofa where the white lady had lounged earlier.


    "Well done, well done. You excel yourself- no, rather you live up to Papa''s expectations exactly."


    It was one of the pretty boys she had surrounded herself with, no sitting in her place like a usurper.


    "Who are you?" Yamamoto panted.


    "We are but humble servants of the man who is to be demon king, Abyss." Another manservant said. "And we would very much like to introduce you to him."


    "Now that your magic and stamina has been helpfully depleted..." The first one snapped his fingers and the inquisition closed in like one large organism.


    "We can still fight out way out of fodder like this," Yamamoto boasted, but he was quickly restrained by their magic. "H-how?"


    "Take them away!"


    -


    When the living heroes were bound and carted off, the incubi came to stand over the corpse of the lock-pick.


    "Ahem."


    At the sound of the polite cough, the figure rose to a sitting position.


    <hr>


    Hell Skeleton


    Family: Undead


    Threat Level: E


    Reward: none


    Believed to be former sinners, hell skeletons are low level monsters found in the fiery lakes of hell. They should pose no threat to adventurers of sufficient level to travel there, though can unexpectedly grab at the ankles of passerbys, trying to drag them in.


    As undead, hell skeletons are damaged by healing magic. However, when encountering a horde large enough to pose a threat, only high-level healing spells such as Mass-Heal will make a dent, it is therefore recommended to use simple damage.


    Fire demons occupy themselves with the torture of hell skeletons. They therefore form a helpful distraction to sneak past these high-level enemies.


    Hell skeletons contain no useful reagents.


    <hr>


    "Papa Scratch." The incubus shook his head. "My badness, I had half expected a goblin to come crawling out of that suit of flesh."


    "Benesant had given up on the goblin idea." The skeleton said as he tried to reattach his face, awkwardly pressing the ripped flesh together. "She ended up pouring some power into me just so she could reincarnate me into something even worse off."


    "And the human disguise?"


    "I made it myself," his voice trailed off as he wandered over to his goddaughter''s decapitated head, "False Flesh. It''s a recipe Cyclophan once used to help us close our wounds. This form as some mana so I was able to..." he picked her up.


    For the first time ever, she looked to be at peace.


    "You knew about the palace dungeon then," the demon said, "and you used it to return to the world of the living. I can see why you were once favored to be demon king."


    He didn''t answer.


    "Have you gone sentimental in your old day?" Another laughed. "The white lady''s last few years were starkly devoid of true passion and joy, I will say. Her subhuman nature and power extended her lifespan indefinitely, but she had nothing to live for other than to one day see this confrontation. We found it all very amusing."


    "Last time we spoke..." the loose-faced man mulled over his words, "...I haven''t always been patient with her. But Rita wasn''t the cause of all of this going sideways. When it comes down it it, I only have one enemy."


    The demon soured, he had been prying for a stronger reaction. "You shall carry that regret evermore. Your scheme is cut off by the final stretch and it will all have been for naught. We intend to show you."


    "What my brother means to say," the first demon said, "is that would be an honor if you were to accompany us to the site of the execution and of your final humiliation."


    They smiled broadly.


    <hr>


    No human being had set foot in the city of Grienice for nigh-on three decades.


    Left alone to manipulate the culture of the city, Youthere and his family had stoked the fires of partisan violence relentlessly. Cultivating a range of unstable and incompatible identity groups to fuel it.


    Eventually, the citizenry of Grienice had become so inwardly turned that maintaining their empire became impossible. The gates had closed to the impurities of the outside world, and the people devolved into cultists of demonic inspiration, turning to every sin and corrupted virtue the family of temptation managed to spin into their narratives.


    -


    When the heroes were ushered in, they were met with disorienting clamor en stink. Unwashed, violent people that had never seen the outside and lived like beasts in buildings they could not appreciate or understand.


    Though they could not see, blinded as they were, they could smell the shit packed against the walls, the dried blood of tribal combat, and the wafting air of open sex out in the filth.


    The inquisitors kept the rabble at a distance, they were trained in the extermination of humans and wielded magical weapons from a bygone age.


    Though they had been untaught most of the skills that made a man, the manufactured primitives knew one thing, and that was oration.


    "Aristocratic imposition!" One shouted.


    "See here the natural end point of the south-side''s rent-seeking paradigm," another said, "our very home is trampled on as if we are mere objects. Where we pay tribute for the very things necessary to live, life itself has become a commodity."


    As they said it, they were smashing in someone''s skull.


    Various lengthy soliloquys flew overhead, justifying the killing of others and the taking of their possessions via discursive narratives. The ability to justify and all things, and place all evil on the names of others had been carefully instilled in them by demonkind and had made them the creatures they were today.


    -


    "Yamamoto, are you there?" Selina whispered. "What''s all this madness around us?"


    He struggled against his constraints. "I''m still alive. The fight took a lot out of me, but we have to muster the strength to escape or I fear we might never see that happy ever after we promised each other."


    He received a hard knock against the back of his head.


    "Show some deference, rebel, you''re about to meet the dark lord Abyss." An inquisitor said.


    "Abyss." He gritted his teeth. "He''s the real cause of all this."


    Blinded as they were, they could not see the light from above rapidly growing closer.


    They could not see the craft shooting down their captors either, but they could hear it.


    They were undone of their bindings and their hands placed on the rungs of a rope ladder.


    "Come vith me if you vant to live."


    <hr>


    The dark lord had received many honors by his demon followers. He was sat on a white boney throne and looked on from the palace square as various villains and sinners were prostrated before him one by one, swearing fealty.


    The small incubus Scratch had once called his familiar stood behind him, whispering about who was what and how they could serve him. Occasionally, he would pass judgment instead and kill them.


    -


    It was past midnight and the heroes'' party still hadn''t appeared before him.


    "Where are the assassins?" He asked.


    His assistant gestured angrily at his comrades. And one came up to bow before him. "Forgive us, your lowness, but the loathsome do-gooders seem to have escaped their captors. They''re loose somewhere within the city."


    In an instant, he was vaporized.


    Abyss lowered his staff.


    "Worry not, lord Abyss," the incubus said. "Your lieutenants can be quickly replaced by the mightiest arch-demons once you ascent to the title of demon king. We have the true mastermind behind their defeat here."


    Still holding his face in place, Scratch was quickly shuffled forward to appease him.


    -


    Abyss still looked and dressed the same as he had at the dungeon lords'' round table all those years ago.


    Just like back then, he would occassionally stare at the palm of his hand and slowly clench it into a fist, feeling the force of his magic.


    He glanced dismissively at the thin man standing before his throne. "You and your friends must be quite powerful to have defeated all seven of my generals."


    Scratch just nodded, trying to tuck his forehead under his scalp.


    "I collect powerful things. If you swear loyalty to me-"


    "Why?"


    Abyss didn''t miss a beat. "To save your own life. Then again, you could die with your ideals intact."


    "Oh, scew this." Scratch gave up on the skin completely and let the face flop over. He took the opening with both hands and tore it open so wide his skull could escape. He then proceeded to undo himself of the rest of the disguise by climbing out of it like an overall and discarding it on the ground.


    There he stood, more naked than any living being ever had been, stripped to the bone.


    This did startle the dark lord for a second.


    "Why are you still on about this ultimate power business, Ken?" Scratch said, gesticulating wildly, "you were already on this back in Ritter''s day when you just had to have every wyrm shard. What''s the point? You rule the world, what use is even more power to you?"


    "...Who are you?"


    "I''m you. Last year''s model. I''m the previous guy these rats said they would make king of the world."


    The small demon by Kato Ken''s side sucked in some air and moved in to set the record straight. "Your wretchedness-"


    "How do you know that name?" He demanded.


    -


    The skeleton looked east, to the part of the sky that was visible over the ancient ruined architecture. Then he turned to the dark lord again. "You''re Kato Ken. You were a highschooler until your schoolbus rode you and your whole class into a cliff. Your favorite author learned about it and decided to write you into his light novel series. That''s the long and short of it, isn''t it?"


    Ken stood up. "You forgot to mention the indignities I suffered at the hands of my classmates. How I was humiliated and outcast for lacking the cheat-like skills on their level. But I gathered power in secret... build myself up, and then took my revenge! That''s why I gather power. This world has taught me power is everything."


    The various demonic creatures looked back and forth between the two, made speechless by the bizarre turn of events.


    Scratch straightened his back. "This world has nothing to teach you that you don''t already want to believe. I''ve run into protagonists to many stories here, and they all received the life they always dreamed of. A guy that loved giant robots got to make giant robots, a girl that loved a romance character got to live her life. That''s why this world has magic card games and running around as a fantasy hero is a career. Ken, if you were mistreated in any way that sparked your revenge, that is because you needed an excuse to become who you are now. Tell me I''m wrong."


    "No. You..." Ken sunk back into his chair. "I... I was made cruel. It''s because of them."


    The demon was quick to help his reasoning. "Your wretchedness is strong. You were forged in the fires of hardship."


    "He used to talk to me like that." Scratch laughed mirthlessly. "You know there''s a perverse pride in being called a dark lord. There''s a sense of power in it, isn''t there? If you''re gonna be bad, you''d want to be the baddest of the bad. The arch-villain. I recognize myself in you that way, we''re both peacocks, aren''t we?"


    "Shut him up!" The demon shouted. "Who brought this failed pretender here anyhow? Bring out those to be judged!"


    The soldiers were about to seize him once more, but Ken stopped them. "Halt. My advisor does not hold command over my forces," he said quite sternly, "you will not move until I give the command."


    The demons stood in dubio between the skeleton and their post, but did not press on.


    Having seized control of the scene again, the dark lord righted himself and regained his composure. "This creature seems to be afraid of what you have to say. So... speak."


    -


    If he could breathe, he would have taken a deep breath. "If you look east from here, you can probably make out the Heiligdom spire. It''s halfway across the continent but it''s very tall."


    He was right. Like a hair-thin line dividing the sky into two, the tall thin tower stood against the faint glow of earliest twilight.


    "I had that thing build with the help of five gods. They owed me a favor."


    Abyss shook his head. "The holy spire was build more than a hundred years ago in a scheme by the goblin banks to bankrupt the Blurichan nobility."


    "Good, you''re up-to-date. To make a long story short, that''s where the wyrm shards went."


    "Nani?"


    Scratch held up his skeletal arms. "The logic is sound. The wyrm shards were created after the original evil god, Malsidious, took on a physical form to dominate the world of Lite and was destroyed.


    Putting them together, one should be able to recreate a functioning dragon body."


    "Yes, but... no divine soul to inhabit it."


    Scratch looked around gesturing at the abyssal rabble. "Demons are ridiculous creatures. They''re opposite in everything and say stuff like ''your wretchedness''. In a hundred years stirring this rotten soup of a city, they never cooked up anything bad enough for Benesant to inhabit the dragon and stop it. Frauds!"


    The demon forces yelled and hissed.


    "You''re worth nothing as minions!" He screamed over the noise. "Worse than disloyal, you''re incompetent!"


    -


    The advisor leaned in again to speak hurriedly. "Your wre- Master, you are on the cusp of attaining demon king status and all the forces of evil under your command. You possess the cruelty past candidates lacked, if you merely prove-"


    He was cut off by the dark lord''s hand closing around his throat.


    "You are ridiculous." He said. "Now be quiet." He looked around at the corrupted and seemed as though he was seeing it for the first time, surprised by the filthiness. "If what you''re telling me is true, then the suffering I went through was by my own wish. And my revenge was never justified. I''d rather not believe it."


    The skeleton looked at him. "Once I would have said there was no such thing as a justified revenge, I would have said a man should pursue his interest and repay suffering on some imaginary balance is a distraction. I believed I was above such things, and I took pride in that... but somewhere in all this violence I lost that part of myself that I was so proud of. Benesant took it from me."


    Ken descended from his morbid throne. "I see now. You trained up that party of rebels to one day defeat Benesant in wyrm form and that''d... what? Scatter her into countless lesser gods like Malsidious?"


    He tapped the side of where his nose would be. "That satisfies my criteria for revenge. It would have happened by now if I hadn''t let these bozos gaslight me with the morality play."


    "Oh?"


    "People act out of self interest, all the rest is just talk. Take Benesant, I mean she''s is fueled by order and light. That''s why she has her followers run around smiting monsters. Not for its own sake, that''d be insane, but to protect the source of her power. She''d never risk her own life coming down here just to fight evil, that''d be putting the cart before the horse, innit?" He paused to make him appreciate his genius insight. "The rat-race of villainy these bozos have come up with will drag you in until you see things their way. I think that''s their purpose, cosmically speaking, to keep the real rebels down and turn them into symbols of evil, fodder for someone else''s heroic adventure..."


    As he had spoken, Ken had come up to him and stood uncomfortably close. He flexed his magic to make his destructive potential felt. "People act out of self-interest. That''s your creed?"


    "Uh, yeah." Scratch arched his neck backwars not to bump foreheads.


    "People act out of self-interest and your goal is to summon a wrathful living god to my empire, what''s my self-interest here?"


    "...I think our interest align, actually."


    "You think so, and why is that?" The dark lord said in a faux-polite tone while his elemental magic was already boring into the skeleton''s ribcage.


    "Ow, haha. Well you see... ouch. The only thing bad enough for Benesant to prefer likely destruction is certain destruction. For the entire world of Lite; light and darkness, order and chaos to be destroyed. The end of the world. You''re growing ever more powerful. Soon you''ll have the means and the motive."


    "What are you saying?" Ken raised his chin without stopping his slow and torturous attack.


    "Your revenge, you gathering the most powerful artefacts you could find, and later trying to become demon king. It''s all for the same reason, right? You want to be someone who matters. But nothing you can do in this world will ever matter as long as it keeps on turning, as long as it goes the cycles of big bad after big bad you''ll only ever be one of many in a long list of temporary kings-of-the-hill.


    Stevie has already written down your story and he''s looking for his next protagonist. You''ll be forgotten about in a year..." he saw a shimmer in Kato Ken''s eyes that showed he''d found his sore spot and was encouraged to continue. "Ending everything. Leaving a mark that can''t be glossed over. That''s the only way you''ll be anyone."


    Ken shot away from him, as if attacked by painful magic himself. "Shut up! Destroy the world... and myself in it? Urusai That''s idiotic."


    As much as a boney frame with no musculature can look smug, Scratch looked smug. "Not now, but... as the years drag on. As the victories mount and nothing can challenge you anymore. You''ll think about how meaningless it all was, how your revenge and everything that had inspired it was pre-determined, how the only purpose you have was to star in a mediocre comic book, and now you don''t even star in it anymore. Given enough time, eventually... you''ll have only one thing to look forward to."


    "Master!" The demon screamed. "Kill him. Let us kill him! He is a corruption, he is-"


    "SHUT UP! I WILL." Ken fumed. "I''m just-"


    *Skree-onk!*


    It seemed like the sun had dawned in the east. But it hadn''t.


    The spire which had bifurcated the sky as a black hair had exploded into yellow light and began to twist and coil.


    A mighty, unfathomably long dragon tore apart the atmosphere and began rushing for what had once been the green city.


    "Gods can see the future." Scratch gloated. "All I needed was to implant the idea."


    The dark lord was about to fall out at him, but the titanic creature was upon them in a heartbeat.


    Sparing no time, Benesant unleashed a concentrated beam of light on the forces of evil, destroying the demons and their prisoners, and forcing Abyss himself into a hasty retreat.


    <hr>


    The airship that had picked the heroes up was powered by magic of a caliber the surface world hadn''t seen in a hundred years.


    Crystals, runes, and pipes carrying elemental magic lined the insides of the bridge, and a tall, pale gentlemen stood at the helm.


    "You saved us." Selina said.


    "Who are you?" Her husband asked.


    "My name is Noss. I''m a friend of your sister." He turned to face them, bearing the fangs of a vampire.


    All sprung up, raising their guard.


    "You should know zhat she alvays had your best interest at heart. Everyzhing she''s done, she''s done to make you stronger."


    "Stronger, why?"


    "You see zhat?" He pointed and the bright light coming in from the porthole.


    The giant wyrm coiled above Grienice, a beam of blinding light shooting from its maw, raining nuclear destruction.


    "Zhat is zhe wyrm of light. She knew it vould one day escape its prison spire. Abyss''s actions have finally unleashed it, and now ve need you to save zhe vorld."


    Selina swallowed a lump in her throat. "She took everything away from us. Our life, our family..."


    "We''re sorry." The large crystal in the middle of the room unfurled, revealing its draonic form.


    "Zhis is cyclophan, a lesser wyrm." Noss said.


    "Melina never wanted to tell you the truth. She thought it would be easier for you to simply hate her... But now the end of days is here, and we don''t have much choice anymore."


    Selina began to tear up.


    "Over the past few months you''ve travelled the entire continent, and found the vestiges of civilization that still exist. You''ve shown your bravery and kindness then. All those places are again at risk now. Will you save them?"


    The pair reached out to intertwine hands.


    "It wouldn''t be a happy ever after if we let our friends in the mist isles die, would it?" Yamamoto drew his sword. "One more final boss. Bring it on!"


    The end.

 Epilogue

    When crime becomes prolific enough, eventually it has to become organized.


    Organized crime is never a force for good, but the amount of damage it does can vary. Not just by size of the operations but by the business model and goals of the families.


    As it happened, in a particular city, not too long ago. Two men were tasked with staking out a storage unit for unscupulous reasons.


    -


    "Almost eight o''clock again." The more senior of the two said, "time for our guest to arrive."


    The younger gangster picked up the binoculars. "Who is this guy?"


    "Samuel Hirotoshi." The other said. "I only know ''cause my kids are obsessed with his games."If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "This guy makes videogames? What business does a guy like that have with evidence stolen from a police station?"


    "I dunno, but I got beef with ''im. Thought they were finally done playing their turn-based RPG''ems and stuff. Now they''re raving about a secret boss they got to fight, it''s a whole ten hours more of content trying to fight the super special light dragon at the end."


    The young man laughed. "No more videogames for christmas, huh?"


    "Was their mother''s idea. My friends got kids that like football."


    -


    "Keep your eyes on the target." Their boss said.


    "Yes sir." The young criminal returned to his looking glass.


    "And no more banter, this is the moment of truth. Hirotoshi has secured a safe place for our prize, the is the last chance we have to get our claws on it."


    "There he is!"


    "Start the car. As soon as he comes out we grab it."


    The older man placed his hands on the steering wheel. "He''s all alone, is it really as valuable as you say? You said we''ll all be rich."


    "Oh yes." The boss jumped up and down on the dashboard, his green plastic hands gesturing wildly as he looked at the target unlock his storage unit. "That orb contains a world of value."

 Afterword

    In the Japanese art of calligraphy every stroke is final. There''s no sketching outlines and revisions, just one try to get it right. It reflects a cultural appreciation for the decisive moment, something that''s visible in their sports, gambling, and in the iconic post-WWII samurai movies, whose final confrontations would go on to inspire the gunslinger duels of spaghetti westerns.


    I would do well to respect the Japanese culture whose light novels I''m so mockingly parodying. Because a weekly updated story is very similar to calligraphy. Once a chapter is published, that''s it. We can do some fixing on the spelling but it''s too late to change major plot points, shuffle story beats around, or fix the pacing. Every upload is final.


    When I started this story I did not expect to still be writing it years later, and I did not expect that it would grow to be more than half a million words long. (More than War and Peace). I was part of an internet forum were we read and discussed various *isekai* light novels that were posted online by translator (basically pirate) websites. Isekai means "new world", these were stories about normal everyday people being transported to a fantastical fantasy world and having exciting adventures. (At the time I had no idea this concept was in any way popular outside the Japanese otaku culture, I had certainly never heard of the term "portal fantasy".)


    Since many of these stories borrow from each other, making one or two twists to well-trodden premises, many of us got the idea that we could do just as well at the art, throwing around random ideas for minor twists of our own. These were then ofcourse met with the challenge to "just write your own."


    Eventually, a few of us did. Some others from the same circle that you can find on RoyalRoad are ''Lucid'', ''Dark Lands: a Villainess'' Guide to Settling her New Home'', and ''It''s the Healer''s Life for Me.'' (The last one originally being called the "Healslut''s life," after a short-lived meme of the time.) And we found out for ourselves that it''s not so easy.


    --


    They say there''s two ways to write a story. Either you carefully plot out all the storybits and then write the in-between bits, or you just start writing and find out where the characters take you. I was mostly taking the second approach, though I had some scenes in mind that had inspired me to start the story. Combined with the medium of a sequentially updated story, that''s a volatile cocktail.


    For example, one of the earliest story beats I had in mind was for the goblins to take in human outlaws and develop a semi-consensual broodmother system. To that end, I introduced outlaws that were brought down and left helpless due to an orc raid. But I mistimed my plotting and the goblins had developed nowhere enough to become providers or patrons to the outlaws. So I had to replot and have the outlaws return and then later get decimated again by the adventurers'' guild. This kind of lack of foresight is what stretched the story to four times the length of what I had originally intended it to be.


    --


    Fodder was inspired by the churn of Japanese *isekai* stories, and was originally meant to be a themepark ride through the one world they all seem to be set in, featuring recognizable character tropes such as the guy with tons of love interests (Laurus), the "I just want to be normal" guy (you probably don''t remember Rudy), the villainess that changed her fate (Beatrice), and the extremely edgy guy out for revenge (Abyss).


    Even Scratch himself finds himself in the exact same situation as the protagonist of RE:Monster. At the time I thought reincarnating as a low level monster was an interesting premise that that story had wasted and that deserved somebody having another go at it. I didn''t find out until later that in fact there have been many gos at it, and that this premise is extremely well represented.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    I wanted Scratch to be a villain so that he could get into conflict with all these *isekai-jin*, but I wanted for him to have a self-consistent moral philosophy. Something to reflect on and get into arguments about. I decided that Scratch is opposed to the forces of justice because Scratch hates the concept of justice. As he would call it, ''bean counter morality''. Somewhere in the early chapters he balks at the idea that there could be such a thing as a "good" person, "a tool is good or bad, based on how well it serves its purpose," to Scratch, being good means to be used as a tool by someone else. Principally unpricipled, he can be put into conflict or team up with anybody and it will be believable.


    The witch Lacrima was introduced to showcase Scratch''s consistency with this principle. She was meant to be a tyrant that imposes her will on the weaker goblins, which are powerless to resist her. Yet, in the end, she is defeated by giving her everything she wants, not via retribution. A solution focused on the future, rather than payback focused on the past. Due to the aforementioned plotting problem, and how easy it was to have someone that could dispense magic plot devices in the story, the conclusion to her story occurs about 50 chapters later than it was going to.


    But all of this was taking us somewhere. As it goes with stories where the author is just along for the ride and seeing where it takes them, a theme began to emerge. The nature of evil became a recurring thread in the story. Embodied most by the demons, who consist of multiple families that disagree on the best way to be the most despicable. When writing a regular story, you would then go back and rewrite earlier chapters to properly set this up and create some sort of arc. But this is calligraphy, every stroke is final.


    --


    There are a few more ideas for story concepts I had that I wasn''t able to work into the story. To get them off my chest, here they are:


    - The mist isles: a land where many *isekai-jin* lived. Each new one would introduce some marvelous modern concept like bathing or mayonaisse to wow the natives, until eventually the country just became modern day Japan with day jobs and no fantasy adventures to be had.


    - Whisk players having a heart of the cards philosophy where they believe battling someone in a magic card game will teach you all about who they are deep down. Possibly getting sappy with a hobgoblin (whose deck would showcase how much death the goblins had experienced) and declaring enduring brotherhood, to the chagrin of their respective war leaders.


    - Ritter''s magical school being inundated with protagonist types. Scratch puts a class of super advanced mages pretending to be normal teenagers with a fraud teacher that doesn''t know much magic so at least they''ll only waste each other''s time.


    - The human kingdoms get their hands on the money printer and promptly cause hyperinflation


    - The anti-imperialist literati class that Youthere cultivated in Grienice are huge virtual signallers and extremely inviting to goblins to the point where it gets kinda weird


    The last chapter could also have been a short story onto itself. I had this idea that hell skeletons wouldn''t be able to talk from their own power and Scratch used what magical knowledge he had retained to record some voice lines on his body in magical runes, but he only had three lines that he would have had to creatively use in different contexts all while pretending to be human.


    Someone said they felt like the story had skipped a few dozen chapters near the end. I can understand their perspective. I was going for an etcetera feel. You''ve seen our heroes fight and scheme and manouver their way into power, and they''ve been at it the same way for over twenty years. It was all winning, constantly, the only thing that could upset the status quo was them losing, and eventually, they had to.


    The story has been slowly increasing the pace ever since the beginning. When Scratch first arrives every moment is described, everything is new to him. The more secure the goblins become, the more time can simply be summarized. We start to skip days, weeks, months, and then years. Finally, we skip a few decades, to the next time something notable happens.


    Benesant being pressured into taking on dragon form and a hero party being trained up using the sunken palace to defeat her were part of the idea from the beginning. But I had trouble tying it together. Plotting things out. It''s hard.


    --


    I will be writing other stories. I already have a few ideas, ones that are less derivative. I''ll try proper outlining for once, see if it suits me.


    Also, fucking PARAGRAPHS. How do they WORK!? I''ve been reading all my life I''ve never internalized any of it. I should take a course.