With the paddle finished, I head back out to my boat and ignore the ensuing popcorn distribution. I’m also ignoring Milo announcing to what seems like half of Splott that today they will be witnessing the historic event of a Human Chosen boating on Splott Lake in a traditionally-made Splott kayak. Why did these idiots have to turn this into a spectacle, anyway? Is there something of a rite of passage here? Even Uncle Hawk and what looks like his adventuring party have shown up! Ugh, whatever. I’m just going to try not to have to be fished out of the lake.
Every other Human Chosen has probably just been here to kill goblins. I don’t want to just be the white man who shows up to uplift the dumb savages, either, but at least that’s a narrative that winds up with fewer innocent people dead. I killed goblins because I had no choice, but we can speak now and I’ve become good friends with some of them. And I’m literally doing what their “god” wants, for that matter.
So, fine, if Milo is going to play this up like “an historic event” with an “an” and everything, I’ll give them a show they won’t soon forget.
I step into the boat and it immediately overturns and dumps me in the water.
I grab a hold of it and manage to pull myself out of the water to a burst of laughter and popcorn. After a minute, I manage to right the boat and get back in it.
My Stamina is low. Now that I’m not tipping over, I breathe and take a rest and breathe deeply.
Skill acquired: Athletics (Take a Breather)
The system window popping up distracts me from my almost-meditative state. I guess I never did master meditation, but this might be close enough. My stamina meter refills much more rapidly for a minute. Carefully, I dip the end of my oar into the water. (Wait, is it an oar or a paddle? I’ve been translating the goblin word for the thing as “paddle” but I really don’t remember what the difference is. I miss the internet sometimes.)
I slowly, carefully, patiently try to move straight forward. By which I mean everything happens except that.
I’m Taking another Breather when I examine my boat.
Category Object Type Vessel Materials Hide, Bone Quality Poor Durability 3/5
All this manhandling my shoddy boat trying to stay in it has taken a toll on it.
I get back to rowing, and I’m actually having some success now. I get a fair distance from shore and I’m about to head back when I detect a very large aura beneath me.
Category Monster Type Fish Gender Female Rank Heroic Mood Dangerously Curious
I freeze. Holding my wooden oar horizontally, I still all movement in my body except my breathing. Splott goblins rarely get attacked by Splottfish they didn’t antagonize, but outsiders might not be so fortunate. I wonder if she can tell what I am. A Splott goblin also wouldn’t stop rowing or showing any suspicious behavior. She’s watching me very closely and I can feel her eyes on me.
I’m just a weird big pink goblin. Really I am. I put the paddle in the water and mimic the movements of the goblins I’d watched.
Eaten by a Splottfish at age 5 might be a humorous addition to my collection of five million deaths, but I think I’d like to be alive a little while longer.
I keep paddling, calm and steady. The sensible thing for me to do would be to get back to shore, but she’s between me and the nearest shore. Although she hasn’t been hostile, I still don’t want to get too close.
Mood Dangerously Playful
I turn and head toward the bank to the right, but she moves between me and the rocks, preventing me from getting ashore without going right over her. I turn toward Splott Island and make it almost the full way there when she swoops around in front of me, a wave almost turning me over. I’m forced to turn swiftly back out into the open water. I paddle around the middle of the lake, resting when I have to and keeping going as I can.
Mood Dangerously Bored
Once I’m back in range, I pause to rest again and send to Anise telepathically, [There is a Heroic Splottfish hovering around me. Tell the hunters and get the Basics back from shore.]
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Anise has no way to reply, but I watch her wave people around and a fishing party gets ready for the monster to get close. The fishers throw their harpoons, Meadow shoots her arrow (because we’re fishing with a bow and arrow today) and Anise is casting a spell that’s probably named something stupid.
Smop hurls a harpoon at the Splottfish and strikes true. The Heroic fish is considerably larger than the Elite I’d caught before, and there aren’t many Elites among the goblins who are capable of doing real damage to her. Between them and the human Elites, though, they successfully bring the fish ashore and kill it.
Congratulations! Your party has caught an Enormous fish. Skill acquired: Mechanics (Piloting) Skill acquired: Survival (Nonthreatening Stance) Your Discipline (Composure) skill has increased to level 2. Your Endurance has increased to 7.
Phew. Fortunate enough that the fish hadn’t been immediately hostile. I row my kayak to the edge of the lake and pull it out of the water before flopping down on the rocky ground. I need more than a breather after that. Goblins and humans alike cheer wildly as they circle around the steaming elephant-sized fish.
Anise comes over to check on me. “You okay there, Drake?”
“Fantastic,” I say with a tired laugh, and send her the system box I just received.
“Nice,” Anise says. “You take any damage?”
“I’m good.”
Once my Stamina meter is full again, I head over to where the goblins have gotten started on dismantling the fish, and join in. The carcass is hot to the touch, however, and I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to prepare fish before cooking it, but we manage. Once they harvest the materials from it, an awful stench wafts out over the lakeshore. Splottfish oil, ink, and ambergris all have delightfully hideous fragrances when boiled.
When the goblins manage to get past the reek to examine them in more detail, they realize that being boiled alive has altered the color or consistency of some of the fish’s fluids. The oil has turned blue and lumpy. The ambergris has softened and taken on a musky floral odor like perfume. And the ink, originally black, now shimmers in a rainbow of colors like an oil slick.
“You guys are going to be selling frilly dresses and perfume to humans,” Milo comments.
“We use the ambergris for our incense,” says Smop. “It’s sacred. Not that we’re forbidden from trading it. But everyone who uses this scent will think of Splott and give honor to our core. Praise be to Splott!”
The sentiment ripples among the gathered goblins.
Milo muses aloud, “We’ll need to discuss trademarks, and people will likely try to introduce shoddy off-brand knockoffs to pass off as the real thing.”
Most of the goblins present are praising me, praising Splott, and celebrating. The popcorn has been spilled everywhere, what of it didn’t get eaten already. And now everyone is having a fish feast on top of watching a crazy human kid slowly paddle around a lake while being stalked by a giant fish. That was more than enough time to destroy all the popcorn.
Meadow approaches. “Hey, Drake, Milo.” She gestures toward the eclectic band behind her. “Uncle Hawk is here with his adventuring party. They’ve offered to take me on a Heroic quest with them. I don’t know if it’ll get me to Heroic before I turn 21, seeing as I only made Elite a few years ago. But if nothing else, it’ll be a good opportunity to put my skills into practice.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” I say. “You probably aren’t too interested in just watching me build bridges.”
Meadow chuckles. “That boat chase was intense because of how agonizingly slow it was.”
“You’re telling me, I was the one out there on the water.”
Uncle Hawk approaches and gives some introductions. The pink-haired elf (and of course there has to be a pink-haired elf) is named Violet, because it would have made no sense to name her Rose or something. The dwarf is named Schist, and the robed human woman with a staff is named Marjoram. I am immediately going to forget these names anyway so I’m not sure why I bother. I still don’t remember the names of every Corwen.
“And by the way, that’s the goblin that had me kidnapped and tried to murder me,” Uncle Hawk says.
They really ought to be more mad about it.
“Why aren’t you more mad about that?” Milo wonders.
“Because,” says the dwarf adventurer. “Do you have any idea how groundbreaking it is to take a diplomatic approach to goblins?”
“It is popular amongst the youth of Crux Domain to sympathize with lesser beings while pretending they did not just call them lesser beings,” comments the pink-haired elf.
“It’s very hard to campaign for goblin rights when the goblins don’t care about their rights being campaigned for,” says the staff lady.
Milo stares at them for a long moment before finally saying, “You know what, fine. I’m just not going to argue.”
The next morning before they leave, Uncle Hawk pulls me aside.
“Word of advice, Drake,” Uncle Hawk says quietly. “Don’t let Milo take all your Deeds. It’s all well and good to want to help—it’s what you promised when you convinced them to release me, after all. That [Elder Witch] of theirs might have kept cursing me to the point that Milo could actually do damage faster than I could regenerate it. I don’t know where this is going, but you’re family and I’ll support your decisions no matter what. Don’t forget to perform Deeds for yourself as well, though. And remember that the journey to Divine is dangerous. It will likely take many goblin lifespans. It might take many human lifespans.”
“I understand,” I say. “I’m making a lot of progress on my skills, though.”
“Good. You’ll need them. You’ll need every level you can get, even in subskills you’re never going to use. They all add up. I’ll be interested in seeing what you ultimately make with them.”