Zroz was very upset but kept a tight hold on his feelings to sneak away hurriedly. The mist had given him the right cover to slip away from the square unoticed. Zroz stopped behind a dense fern bush growing out of a broken fountain. He cautiously observed the street. He hadn’t seen the savage dog in the square. It could be lying there, waiting to ambush him.

Zroz cursed Brelelx and his damned pride. Why didn’t he listen to Zroz? Well, served him right. Now, that deceptive, weird woman would kill Brelelx and his crew. Her armor, her glowing eyes, her powerful crossbow, nothing about her felt like a feeble old woman. Zroz should have never believed Terx’s information on that woman.

Thinking the street was clear of danger, Zroz left his hiding place. He had trouble silently sneaking in the shadows of the overgrown greenery, clumsily walking on dead leaves and stumbling on stones. What was happening to him? Why couldn’t he focus? He couldn’t be affected by these worthless goblins’ death.

Zroz suddenly fell flat on his face, tripping over a root crawling through the pavement. Zroz ignored the pain as blood dripped down his broken nose. That was strange. He was always cautious when running away – no, not running away, when reporting back to the camp.

The green mist. There had to be something in that mist. Zroz hated that weird woman and her tricks.

Gathering his wit, Zroz judged he shouldn’t be too affected by the poison in the mist. He hadn’t stayed long in the square. However, Zroz needed to get out of this damned town and into the forest. It was too dangerous to stay here in his weakened state.

Nevertheless, Zroz didn’t take the path to go back to the camp. No one ever listened to him, so reporting was useless. Zroz resolved himself. He wasn’t a coward like all his tribe mates were saying. He would prove he was a courageous and self-sufficient goblin. He could survive without his tribe.

***

Two days later, Zroz was running as fast as he could through the Shrewlants Forest toward the goblin camp. Since he had chosen to stay in this cursed forest, Zroz had a near-death encounter with a spider-wolf, defended himself from a giant badger who thought Zroz wanted to steal its den, and prayed for his life trying to avoid a sleeping owl-bear. Now, a dire boar was pursuing him. Zroz was the most unlucky goblin on this side of the continent!

Zroz couldn’t fight the boar head-on, but the tribe knew how to take it down by attacking together. With all the noise Zroz and the boar were making, the hunters and warriors would be ready for the beast.

Short of breath, his body aching from the strain, Zroz continued running on instinct. His mind shut down completely.

He came back to himself slouching against the camp’s wall. An elite warrior was looming over Zroz, his face a furious mask. Zroz knew this goblin by reputation. Fulx was short-tempered and brutal toward any who dared to irk him.

Behind Fulx, Zroz glimpsed the boar’s bloodied corpse and several goblins already butchering the beast. Zroz hurriedly spoke to appease the stronger goblin. “Look, I brought back a lot of meat for the tribe! No need to thank me: it’s my duty as a scout!”

“I don’t have time for your lies, worm! Cunzer wants to see you.” Fulx grabbed the smaller goblin by his neck and dragged him to the chief’s hut. Half-strangled by Fulx’s hold on him, Zroz couldn’t protest.

Fulx threw him down in front of Chief Cunzer. However, the goblin chief ignored Zroz and addressed the burly goblin. “What are you doing? I ordered you to bring me back Brelelx and his crew.”

“This one.” Fulx showed who he was talking about by violently kicking Zroz. “He knows something. He was seen leaving with Brelelx. And he’s acting all shifty.”

Zroz didn’t want to talk to Chief Cunzer. It looked like he was in a bad mood, and the situation was worse than the last time: the weird woman had killed eight goblins! Nevertheless, there was no way to escape from the hut. Fulx stood behind Zroz, emitting waves of rage. In front of Zroz, Chief Cunzer scowled and impatiently tapped the armrest of his imposing seat.

Trembling in fear, Zroz first revealed the death of his teammates Terx, Huct, and Stealiard. Zroz was stalling for time, hoping to find a way to avoid getting beaten to death. As he spoke, Zroz heard several goblins enter the hut, but he didn’t dare look around.

Cunzer impatiently dismissed the news about the three goblin scouts. “I’m asking about Brelelx and his crew. Are you deaf? I need them to raid a village in the South.”

Cunzer didn’t shout. He never shouted. His anger was cold but unrelenting. With no choice, Zroz explained how Brelelx had asked him to lead his crew to an abandoned human town.

“Are they still there? Why aren’t they coming back?”

Zroz forced the answer out despite the fear tightening his throat. “Because they’re dead.”

Cunzer’s furor had him abruptly leaving his armchair. He raised his arm to hit Zroz, but Fulx got there faster, happy to have a reason to vent. Fulx rained down hits on Zroz, who could only curl into himself to vainly protect his head.

Zroz heard some voices arguing, muffled by the sounds of Fulx’s grunts and punches. Fuzzy from the pain, Zroz focused his energy on keeping quiet. He knew how some goblins got high on others’ cries of pain. Zroz hated this tribe. He hated goblins.

The beating stopped, but Zroz didn’t move. He refused to move. Let them do what they wished. He wanted to stop caring, but he didn’t want to die. So Zroz waited, concentrating on holding in the pain.

The argument was calming down a bit. Zroz shuddered when he heard a shaman chanting. Zroz respected the shamans’ magic, but he avoided them. It was always wise to keep out of a shaman’s way lest they use you in their next ritual.

The small goblin flinched as a gnarled hand grabbed his shoulder by the end of the chant. The pain intensified, and Zroz screamed.

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When the pain rescinded, Zroz was panting. A different hand harshly pinched his ear. “Stop acting dead, little coward!” Zroz recognized Eelx’s voice. Eelx was just a scout, like Zroz, but he was working directly under Chief Cunzer’s lead. “If you don’t stand up, little coward, I’m going to use you as my new toy!” The hand went down Zroz’s body to painfully twist his left nipple. “Small is more cozy, right?”

Zroz scrambled to his feet. He wanted to hide, but the hut was crowded. His eyes darted around. Cunzer’s elite goblins had gathered. Zroz hated being here, under their scrutiny.

“I’ve healed you.” Zroz looked at the shaman speaking. Lubzilx was a wise old goblin, skilled in hexes and necrotic magic. It was no wonder that the healing had hurt so much. Lubzilx glared at Zroz. “Don’t make me regret it. Tell us what could kill eight goblins!”

“Everything and everyone can kill goblins.” Zroz turned his head toward the goblette who spoke gloomily. Luimealsee was a respected shaman of the tribe despite being a depressive female. “We’re all going to die. That’s all we’re meant to do: struggle uselessly and die a horrible death.”

Cunzer rebuked the female and turned his attention to Zroz. The small goblin wholeheartedly agreed with Luimealsee. However, he told everything he knew about the weird woman and her savage dog.

“Ah, we can’t even do anything against an old woman! Our species is hopeless.” Luimealsee closed her eyes and tilted her head up. “Better to offer our useless lives as a sacrifice to Gloomgob Gobrebuz!”

Zroz shuddered at the mention of the divine sacrifice. Luimealsee’s shamanic talent lay in dark magic, and her patron deity enhanced her power. However, the price of it was bloody and sadistic sacrifices. Zroz didn’t want to have any part in it.

“Enough with your drama, Luimealsee!” The elite warrior goblin who interrupted the shaman goblette was almost as strong as Chief Cunzer. He could have been a chief himself if he hadn’t eventually settled in their tribe and chosen to follow Cunzer. “This woman can’t be allowed to survive! She’s a stain on our tribe!”

The old shaman intervened before the other goblin could work up his peers. “One wonder if you’re speaking in the tribe’s interest or if you’re following your own agenda, Bliarzuq!”

“Nonsense! Revenge is our duty!”

“Like I said, goblins die every day. There would be no end to it if we avenged every one of them.”

“You gloomy witch!”

“He’s right! We’re made for violence and brawl! Let’s fight!”

“You brainless lot! Listen to me!”

“Come! I’ll give you blood and pain!”

The talk dissolved into a messy quarrel that Zroz didn’t listen to. If Chief Cunzer didn’t listen to the shamans, he wouldn’t listen to a small scout. Zroz passively waited.

Chief Cunzer let his goblins argue and fight. He was deep in thought. His calm was deceptive: Zroz could see some veins pulsing on his temple. Cunzer was a vindictive chief: he wouldn’t let the woman go.

Suddenly, Cunzer stood up and roared. The goblins pushed and pulled at each other until calm settled down. Once he had everyone’s attention, Chief Cunzer declared, “For her insult toward our tribe, we’ll kill this woman and her dog, then defile their bodies.”

Eelx cackled gleefully. This pervert was surely hoping to be the one in charge of defiling the bodies. Zroz looked away, hiding his disgust and discomfort.

Cunzer called out the names of the goblins he wanted to bring with him. Luimealsee grumbled when she heard her name, and Lubzilx tried to argue again. He pointed out that this raid wouldn’t benefit the tribe and would weaken the fighters before the raid to the South. Chief Cunzer ignored both of them. After that, no one protested.

Zroz was startled when the chief called his name. Not only because Chief Cunzer knew his name, but also because it meant Zroz would have to return to the town for the third time. Zroz hated this human town.

The only bright side was that with such a strong group, the small goblin wouldn’t be in any danger on the way. Indeed, Chief Cunzer brought eight of his best fighters. He rode at the front, mounted on his wolf. Chief Cunzer was intensely looking ahead.

Following behind the chief came the three strongest warriors of the tribe: Bliarzuq, Fulx, and Giormozz – a fat goblin who was always eating. They wore mismatched scavenged pieces of armor and walked down the path without any trouble. Bliarzuq and Fulx had a grim, eager smile on their face.

Then, the two shamans followed. Both kept quiet and sighed occasionally, though maybe not for the same reason.

Bringing up the rear of their group were two archers called Narxea and Frisz, and Cunzer’s scout Eelx. Well, there were two scouts with Zroz – if Zroz could be counted as one.

The small goblin tried to keep his distance from all of them, but it wasn’t easy since he had to guide them. Zroz warily walked in the front. He hated being around these strong goblins. They made him uncomfortable.

Zroz got spooked by Narxea appearing suddenly in front of him. Wasn’t this goblette at the back of their group? How did she get here?

“You. How do you intend to compensate me?”

Bewildered, Zroz looked dumbly at Narxea. He had never interacted with this goblette. She was an elite archer specializing in assassination. Zroz hated archers on principle. But Narxea was the goblette with the best stealth skills. Maybe Zroz should interact more with her, as he was her male counterpart.

Narxea bent over the small goblin to say, “I’m out here to clean up your mess instead of sleeping.”

Maybe Narxea came to flirt with him. Zroz nodded to himself. He should be right: this goblette had recognized his skills.

But Narxea added, “You aren’t foolish enough to think I’m doing it for free, are you?”

Zroz didn’t understand what she meant. He didn’t call out Narxea, Chief Cunzer did. And he wasn’t accountable for this mess. Terx, Stealiard, and Brelelx were.

A delicate green hand came around Narxea’s shoulders to stir her away from Zroz.

“Don’t talk to the ugly goblin.”

Zroz frowned at Frisz. He wasn’t ugly. This goblin had to be jealous because Narxea was talking to Zroz.

“Money isn’t ugly.”

Zroz nodded at Narxea’s reply. No, wait. What did she mean by saying that?

“Please, he doesn’t have any money!” Frisz looked at Zroz’s clothes disdainfully. “I mean, look at him!”

Irritated, Zroz looked at Frisz’s clothes too. He noticed the archer’s clothes were clean and suited him perfectly. Was this really a goblin? Zroz looked suspiciously at the other’s face. Did he have some elves in his ancestry? This goblin looked like a sissy.

Frisz smiled brightly at Zroz. “I know, I’m dazzling. Don’t be too jealous, little coward.”

Who was jealous? This goblin was infuriating!

“What about my compensation?” Narxea pouted.

“He can compensate you with his body.”

Zroz shuddered at Eelx’s suggestion. What was he doing here? When did he come here? Why were they all popping out one after the other?

“Ew! I said he’s too ugly!”

“Quiet!” Cunzer rebuked them.

Frisz immediately dragged Narxea away. The goblette threw a warning glare at Zroz, but she let Frisz bring her away. Eelx leered at Zroz. However, after a glance at Cunzer, he also left.

Curious, Zroz dared look at the chief. Cunzer was frighteningly silent. Zroz thought Chief Cunzer was seething in his rightful wrath.

Zroz hated his chief, but he could respect him. With him and the elite members of the tribe, Zroz was a bit hopeful about the upcoming fight. Surely, the weird woman couldn’t face them all?