Come spring, limestone gets delivered from Penbryn, and I feel like we’re ready to really mess up an attempt at building a building. I don’t know if I would really consider anyone here good at their new jobs, seeing as they’ve only had a few months to practice and get tools and materials ready. But goblins are surprisingly fast learners. I don’t know if it really makes up for their short lifespans, but at least it means they pick up the stuff I’m trying to tell them quickly.
We lay out plans for a building on the shore of Splott Lake, much like Grubwick’s inn. In addition to Anise, Rowan, and Milo, we have a trio of Elite hunters guarding us, including Smop. Things are relatively peaceful in this part of the caverns this time of the year, but it’s always a risk being in the In-Between outside of walls.
I’m directing the work crew when I detect some violet auras approaching from the opposite direction of the surface exit. I identify the closest of them.
Category Person Race Goblin Gender Male Rank Basic Mood Hostile
“Alert!” I cry. “Hostiles approaching!”
“Workers to the boats!” Smop yells.
The goblin Masons immediately drop what they’re doing (“Ahh!” “Sorry!”) and make a break for the kayaks on the shore.
There aren’t enough boats for everyone but the Elites step in to shield the fleeing Basics as hostile goblins emerge from the tunnels all around us. I get in a boat along with two Masons, one of whom grabs a paddle before pushing off hurriedly.
“I think they must be Usks,” says one of the Masons.
“Stupid Usks,” says the other, raising a hand in a rude gesture toward the shore.
One of the thrown rocks strikes my boat and almost overturns it. The second hit tips us into the water with a splash. I grab the boat to try to stay afloat, but part of the frame has broken and it’s no longer lakeworthy.
“We’ll swim to the village,” says one of the goblins who were in the boat with me. “Splotts are good swimmers. We’ll be fine. Worry about yourself! Look, there’s your mom!”
Anise is here. My mom is watching my back as always. She uses a skill probably named something like Sorcery (Motherly Protection) and a shimmering barrier surrounds me. Two rocks thrown in my general direction plink off of it and splash into the water. I swim back toward the shore, not having actually gotten very far.
“Drake!” Anise calls out, rushing up to meet me at the edge of the water. “How many hostiles do you sense?”
Rowan pulls me out of the water while Anise is busy throwing fire around, incinerating any goblin that so much as glances at us in an unfriendly manner.
“Too many!” I exclaim. “They’re coming in from every direction. They must have staged all around the lake shore and were careful not to get too close until we were surrounded!”
Milo climbs on top of a stack of cut stone blocks, and his voice tinged with power echoes over the lakeshore. “**Stop! Stop fighting! Peace! Peace!**”
A large rock strikes him in the head, and he crumples like a ragdoll.
I suck in a breath and rush over toward him, with Anise and Rowan beside me, but we can’t even get close. He might be Elite, but he’s been swarmed with dozens of Basics and has nothing but strong words to use against them. We’re forced to withdraw from the lakeside under the sheer press of numbers.
“We need to get to the surface exit,” Anise says. “Keep close. Rowan, look out for Drake. Drake, think really loudly if you detect anything we don’t already know about.”
We make our way toward the exit, leaving behind Splott Lake and the madness going on near it. I take a glance back as we reach the tunnels, where things narrow to the point I won’t be able to look. We’re not being pursued. Goblins dance on the shores of the lake and the Splotts may or may not have managed to evacuate any of my poor Masons. I know I saw at least some of them make it to the boats before we got overwhelmed.
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“Milo…” I say quietly.
Anise nods. “Nothing we can do for him now, if he even survived. We’ll have to get to Grubwick via the surface and let them know what happened.”
You have survived the battle of Splott. Your Athletics (Swimming) skill increased to level 2. Your Clairvoyance (Empathy) skill increased to level 2.
I got a level of [Swimming] from that? I was only even in the water for like a minute! I guess that’s some consolation experience for “Congratulations, you didn’t drown!” I don’t even have it in me to protest too much about how silly skills are sometimes. It didn’t take terribly much [Empathy] to detect hostility in the screaming goblins who were throwing rocks at people.
----------------------------------------
The surface is peaceful and spring is springing, but I’m dejected and distraught. I let my guard down and I really should not have. Still, without having to navigate the tunnels of the In-Between, we’re able to reach Grubwick quickly enough.
“Something terrible happened at Splott Lake,” Anise says.
“We know,” says [Elder Witch] Griza with a sigh. “Grubwick informed me when it updated my quest. We had a newborn awaiting a naming ceremony, so we named him Milo. Here he is now. I figured you would want to see him.”
She gestures toward a younger goblin woman approaching with a tiny bundle in her arms. Normally, I’m sure an infant goblin would never be seen outside of the depths of their warrens. Babies are ugly enough but goblin babies resemble green pugs, with a squished nose and folded pointed ears.
[I wish I could talk,] projects the baby’s thoughts. [I wish I could see. Ugh, I hated being a baby the second time around. I was almost an adult, too!]
[Milo, is that really you?] I send to him.
[Yes! Can you hear me, Drake?]
[I can hear you,] I think, then say aloud, “Alright, so that is him.”
[As it turns out, I didn’t need to be so worried about the lifespan thing after all,] Milo sends. [I kept Elite rank and all my skills, too. And apparently I unlocked Clairvoyance (Telepathy) just from complaining loudly enough about not being able to talk.]
[That’s great!]
[I think I’m going to take it easy for a bit—not that I have much choice—and just work on skills rather than trying to change the world overnight. I’ve done a lot too fast. It would not be so bad to give Grubwick and Splott a few generations to get used to the idea of being friendly with humans and being able to build things. I’m confident that we will win the goblin war. I need to find a source of metal before we can go much further technologically.]
Undeterred by dying, Milo is still plotting.
[With the goblin war on, my mom wants me to stay at Corwen unless I’ve got a Heroic or up escort,] I tell him, repeating a conversation I’d had with her along the way. [She doesn’t trust herself to keep me safe by herself against an entire goblin army. I won’t argue about it. I have a lot of things to work on.]
[There’s only so much roughing it you can take at once,] Milo comments. [I’ll try and keep the trade with Corwen and Penbryn going at least. I dearly want my goblins to learn about clothes. Fur loincloths do not count.]
[I always appreciate your priorities,] I reply wryly.
[Hey, here’s a bright side! I’m actually named Milo this time. It was getting annoying seeing “Grabrat” on my status screen so I’m glad Grubwick took my complaint to heart.]
“Okay, I assume you’re having a telepathic conversation and not just staring creepily at that baby goblin,” Anise says. “Anything to share?”
I relay the gist of the conversation to her verbally before realizing I can just forward the messages to her.
“Sounds like he’s taking brutally murdered in stride,” Anise says.
“I hope at least some of the Splotts I was working with got away,” I say with a sigh. “They assured me they were good swimmers. Not much we can do about it now.”
“There’s no solidarity among goblins,” Griza says. “We all live in our own cramped villages, set up outposts to gather resources and come back home before the swarms. We’re not unified like the humans.”
“Humans aren’t really unified, either,” Anise says.
“Yes, but you communicate and cooperate. We were making progress with Splott, but now we are cut off from them. Usk lies between Grubwick and Splott, and I have no doubt that their warriors will be swarming the tunnels.”
“Both Grubwick and Splott are close to surface exits, though,” I say.
“And as soon as we tell Corwen what happened, there will be adventurers happy to kill hostile goblins,” Anise says. “For better or worse.”
The goblin war has begun. And I’m sure the cores are gleeful.
I’m not. I’ve been forbidden from going near goblin villages until they’re done deciding if they want to be Tolkien goblins or Warcraft goblins. We only managed to stop by Grubwick before returning to Corwen because if we went back to Corwen first, I would not be leaving it again anytime soon. Alas.
So, with that, Anise, Rowan and I stay our last night in Grubwick for what might be years. The inn has been coming along nicely and I hope the goblins I’d worked with here can keep themselves safe.
“How are you holding up?” Anise asks.
“I don’t even know how to emotionally parse watching my friend die and then get reincarnated immediately.”
“Yeah, that’s a tough one,” Anise says. “Can’t help you there.”
I’m not going to think too hard about this goblin baby who might have grown up to be something else but got Milo’s soul shoved in. I suppose it doesn’t matter. It’s not like there’s any shortage of short-lived shorties. Many more will die before this is over, I have no doubt.