The four goblins stood back to back, weapons raised. The greenskinned giants could have been carved of the same stone they were armoured in. Kelter licked his lips nervously. There was a tension from their rescuers now, though none of them reached for a weapon. Either their anger wasn't directed at his little squad or they just weren't worried about it coming to a fight. He twirled his knife and bent slowly at the knees and slide it into his sheath. Pulling on his harness he locked eyes with the others who began to put their weapons away and reach for their own gear. Meeting Morrock's eyes he drawled "And that would be...bad?"

Morrock's brow furrowed. "You childs of maker jewel, yes?" They demanded.

Fingers brushing against his sides, as though to check everything was in its place Kelter tilted his head to one side and smiled. "What are you? Other than our saviours my giant stoney friend?"

Morrock growled. "I not know all your words. We are orcs." They clenched their fists and cracked their stone rings against their chest. The noise was echoed by the others around the fire. "You goblins. We skin of greens. Brothers." The presumably male orc waved a hand at Clipper and Thinner. "Sister."

Kelter turned his head to the other side, "So...our skin is green so that makes us family?

The orc said something to his chief, "Your maker jewel father, it not make orcs? You not grow?"

Understanding dawned. "Maker jewel, you mean the dungeon?" Seeing Morrock shrug he said, "Yeah, probably. So...goblins evolve into Orcs?"

The orc's face twisted, tusks pulling back into his snout. "Not free goblins. Maker Jewel children fight, grow to orcs or cucuy. Orc child fight, maker jewel grow to troll, grow to ogre, grow to giant!" He was shouting now, throwing his hands in the air, spittle flying from his meaty jowls. "Maker Jewels...Maker Jewels use skin of greens. Twist bodies, make other. Child life not belong self."

The goblins exchanged looks. "So we could become Orcs?" Clipper said. Kelter could see that she didn't really see a downside to the prospect. Their apparent relations were much more imposing than themselves.

"You made Orcs. You no choice - maker jewel decide what you become." Morrock replied, relaying the conversation back to his leader as he went. "When free, you your own. Your body, yours. Your mind, yours. We free you."

"Free us?" Kelter's eyes narrowed. The squad was now completely still, hands conveniently near but not on their weapons, weight on the balls of their feet. They were very young but days old they may be, they weren't born yesterday. Vague, unsolicited offers of liberation from their home by armed strangers was a warning flag even they could spot.

The orc nodded firmly, baring his tusks. "Yes! Free from dungeon, free to choose, free to live! This Gitznik promise all dungeon-children."

"Well, thank for the offer," Kelter replied cautiously, "But I think we're fine where we are."

"No."

Kelter spun to face Clipper, mouth falling open in shock. "No." She said again, louder this time. "No Kelter, we aren't fine." The words came out in a hiss, frustration and vitriol on every syllable.

"What are you talking about? The Fountain doesn't do anything he just said!" Kelter retorted sharply. "Control yourself!"

The other goblin laughed bitterly, leaning against her bill. "Doesn't it? It uses us Kelter, uses us and casts us aside when it doesn't need us anymore."

Before he could reply, Uller spoke up in a hollow voice. "She's right Kelter. The tribes were useful, we served our purpose, and now we starve."

Kelter's lips twisted to reveal yellow, needle like teeth. "That's not what this is you idiots, something is wrong. The Fountain -"

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Clipper's bill fell with a slap into a two handed grasp. "Something is wrong Kelter, something is wrong with you! Did you forget there were tribes before us? Tribes that do not exist even as bones, just sculptures on the Fountain? Like decoration, just gilding on the tale of its victory over some monster." Her tirade left her panting, knuckles turning white on the haft of her weapon pressed against her knees. She spat to one side. "It might not have changed our bodies yet but don't think for a moment it won't. It did to the spiders and it did to your mind."

"My mind?" Kelter flung his arms wide, knife reappearing as if from nowhere. "What has it done to my mind?"

Thinner took up a position to his right, hand on her own weapon. "You haven't noticed?" She asked him though her gaze held steady on Clipper.

"Noticed what?"

"Every day there's a little less chaos." His cohort's words were quiet but they carried in the silence cast by the watching orcs. "You were minutes old when you first stole something, seconds older than that the first time you got into a fight. You cracked jokes, committed little pranks in between heartbeats. Then one day you went down to the Fountain."

"And...what?" He replied, taking his eyes off Clipper to look at her.

She shrugged one shoulder. "And something changed. You didn't come up for over a day and when you did you were building, or sketching. Still manic, still mad, but you're a little less chaotic every day. I don't think you've played a trick on anyone since the Ratlings came."

Kelter hissed through his teeth. "You mean when we all nearly died? When we-" Thinner's eyes flicked over to meet his own, cutting him off. She shook her head slightly.

"It started before that. I'm not saying it's bad. I'm just saying she's not wrong."

The silence stretched, broken only by the occasional sound of stone on stone from the movements of the orcs. Thinner stayed focused on Clipper, who remained hunched over and tensed like a coiled spring. Still at a loss for words his eyes moved over the orcs, still watching in silence. Their faces seemed...sad. Snouts, thick lips, broad shoulders, all drooped, almost slack. He spotted the meat-nut he'd been given, unconsciously fallen from his mouth when the shaman fed them mana - of course, that was why they'd been so weak! They were dungeon born, created from the Emerald Fountain's own mana and by leaving they'd been cut off from the steady flow that had sustained them. Still, that proved that the Dungeon was providing for them, even with whatever had driven it to dormancy -

Leather scuffed against rock, Uller taking small steps away from them. He came to a stop before the shaman, dropping to his knees. "Free me," He mumbled. "I want to be free."

"No!" Kelter barked, stepping forward only for Clipper to raise her bill to block him. Thinner's crossbow came up, lever arming with a soft click that rang through him like the crack of doom.

"Is okay friends," Morrock stepped forward, hands raised. "Goblins be free, you see. Free life, better life."

Runes flared to life before the shaman, new arcane patterns forming for just a heartbeat before Thinner's bolt struck and shattered them like a pane of glass. The robed orc roared, a sound echoed by the horde that surrounded them. The angry sound reverberated through them, the goblins losing their balance but Clipper was fast, too fast and Thinner fell in a spray of blood. He was moving, his knife missing the traitor's elbow and the vulnerable brachial artery but the roar faded and his reverse stroke cut through three of her fingers and scored the shaft. Uller was shouting, Clipper was screaming, the Orcs were shouting and Morrock was in front of him, a meaty hand ringed in stone reaching for him. The disorientation settled, gears turning and he ducked, avoiding the grasping hand and scoring the stone poleyn that guarded the Orc's knee. He rolled, turning and Thinner was bleeding, clutching her ruined chest and she met his eyes. He erupted from his crouch, hands full and his knife warded off the Orc's hands again, Morrock holding them back high and wide as if to show peaceful intent, as if he hadn't turned his tribesgoblins against him. Clipper's one handed swing came too high and wide and his knuckles rammed into the meat of her throat. Her lifeblood flowed over them, the panic draining from her eyes and used the balled up fist of his other hand to push her corpse free of his blade. Morrock's hand fell on his knife arm, wrenching him round and shouting at him to stop with wide eyes. The orc's left hand took his shoulder for only a moment before a bolt ricocheted from his gorget and cut through his neck at an angle. The orc roared and pulled it free, discombobulating the goblin again but his hand was free and he leapt up the orc, using the leverage of his captive arm as a fulcrum to run up the orc's thigh and his latest contraption slipped into the orc's armpit. The backhand threw him, knife flying away and he tumbled painfully to a halt next to Thinner, trembling fingers reloading her crossbow again as she pooled around herself.

All the orcs were moving now, Uller held fast between two shrieking apologies that were lost in the wind. He popped to his feet as Morrock exploded, his arm and upper torso coming away from his body in two gory halves as the acid released. In the shock he was on his feet, toes barely kissing the stone past the horde before it could react and sprinting for the dull throb in his mind that called him home.