Noah sat at a picnic table they had commandeered with Lika, her two goblins, RED, and their new ally, Emily. Off to the side, Matt—or maybe Trevor?—was cooking vegetables over a firepit, mostly corn.

“So you really have cards?” Emily asked.

Noah pulled the twenty cards from the pocket of his workout shorts and spread them across the wooden table. Lika leaned in immediately, looking at them, even though she had seen fifteen of them before.

Emily leafed through them. “Are these good cards?”

RED gave an electronic sigh. “Decent cards. A slightly higher percentage or rare or uncommon cards and a building card. But not amazing at all.”

“Yeah, and it’s not the best building card at all, either,” Lika said. “The Arrow Fort is only for fighting. The Zorin goblins have a much better card than that.”

“There are building cards for, um, not fighting?” Noah took the Arrow Fort card and glanced down at it.

Arrow Fort

Common Tier-1 Mortal Building

0 Power

This card creates a 25’ on a side building of stone, four stories tall. Any Mortal using a ranged attack from this building gains 25% Attack and range. If the Mortal card or creature has the ‘Elf’ keyword it gains double the benefit.

All Mortal creature cards with a ranged attack cost 1 less Power to cast within 500’ of this building.

“Arrow Fort? Elves and their stupid flowery names. That’s a guard tower.”

Noah chuckled quietly at the quote at the bottom of the card. He didn’t think people that had lost so much would appreciate his mirth, so he kept his volume low. After a second, his gaze ticked up to the ‘Building’ designation.

He wondered what made a building card special.

As he stared at it, a notification appeared.

The Great Game, Rule #93: Building card slots cost 5 leveling pips for the current and each previous picked. Building cards are null cards: They occupy a card slot in a deck but have no cost and cannot be played in combat. They create a physical, magical structure that can bring magic into the world, either directly or by altering deckbearers and their cards. They can remain on the field indefinitely.

Noah read it, then turned to RED. “So… this card can make a permanent, costless strong point? But it needs someone to dedicate five levels to even be able to use it?”

Lika answered before RED could. “Yup! But buildings can do all kinds of things. Better things. My warren’s village has a building card that makes fish way more abundant.”

“What shortstack said, except that no one cares about the fish,” RED affirmed.

Noah had never imagined a ‘warren’ as having fishing. Before he could ask about it, however, Matt—or Trevor—came back carrying a huge plate of cooked corn.

It wasn’t what Noah would have expected or wanted—it looked almost utterly dry compared to how he was used to eating corn, which was in sauce or at least covered in butter. I better get used to it. This is how it’s going to be for a long time, most likely.

Before anyone could do or say anything, Lika stood up, reached over, and grabbed two ears of corn. She yelled “Shit!” even as she was trying to bring them over to her space, and dropped the corn on the table. She wrung her hands out and blew on her reddened fingers.

Emily choked slightly trying to cut back her laugh, managing a “Thanks, Trevor.”

Neither of the two allied goblins even tried not mocking their companion, instead laughing raucously as they nearly fell from the wooden bench seats.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Noah noticed a few people staring, and a couple leaned over to whisper in a neighbor’s ear. They didn’t look happy.

“So, the ones on top are still really hot,” Trevor said sheepishly.

“And alligators are bad,” Lika said. “But next time, let me know before I get eaten.”

“I have a couple paper plates as well, one second,” Trevor said. He went over and grabbed a couple from near the fire pit, came back, and passed them out. With the extra time for the food to cool, everyone was able to put a couple ears of corn on their own plates.

Lika immediately pulled a vial from her chest, opened it, and dripped amber liquid onto the corn. Then she put it back into her vest.

“What’s that?” Noah asked. She had healing potions and exploding vials… maybe some kind of magical disinfectant?

“Honey,” Lika said before crunching down on the corn and chewing.

After a moment, with her mouth still stuffed, she glanced around at the people staring at her. “Wha’?”

“Are you going to pass that around?” Emily asked.

“’y ‘oney?” Lika asked, then swallowed. “You want me to share my honey?”

Silence greeted her.

“Ah, seriously?” Lika asked, a whine in her voice. “How is that fair?”

RED laughed. “It’s not. Deal.”

“Quiet, you,” Noah said, then turned to Lika. “In a crisis, everyone shares. I mean, you are eating our corn, and you didn’t grow or harvest that.”

One of the goblins said something Noah didn’t understand, and Lika sighed deeply. She pulled the vial back out and gave it to the goblin next to her. “Just take a little, then pass it on.”

“Why do you have a bottle of honey on your chest anyway?” Trevor asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Lika asked. “I mean, think about it. No one knows how many potions and explosives I’ve got. It keeps them on their toes. Plus, I go out into the wild a lot, looking for components to harvest and then sell—and now for my deck. Sometimes I gotta eat crap.”

“Gross,” Emily responded, swishing her hair back.

Lika leaned way over and reached past her quiet goblin buddy, then lightly smacked Emily’s arm. “Not literally. Don’t be disgusting. I mean things like cicadas.”

“Also gross,” Emily said, to general laughter.

The stares from the people around them intensified, and one woman got up, took her child, and “hmmpf’d” before walking off.

“Cicadas are good eating when you’re hungry,” Lika said, not seeming to notice the disapproving woman.

Then she glanced around at the farms, and the hundreds of people lounging around them. “You’ll learn soon, I think.”

That sobered everyone, but Lika continued. “Anyway, it helps to have honey.”

The talkative goblin, Mok, said something else, and Lika rolled her eyes. “Hey, harem members don’t get luxuries unless I’m queen. That’s the rule.”

Noah pushed the corn to the side of his mouth with his tongue. “I thought you banned him, like, twenty minutes ago?”

Lika shrugged. “Eh, Mok is always running his fool mouth. I always let him back—I’m a big softie.”

The usually quiet goblin said something, and Lika chuckled a tiny bit.

“What’d he say?” Noah asked.

“That Mok is also really good with his mouth for other things.”

Noah choked. “Too much information.”

“You asked.”

The table quieted for a moment.

Noah was curious about Goblin culture, and specifically, about Lika’s role. “So, women have harems in your culture? What do all the leftover women do?”

“Oh, well, it’s—”

At that moment, Matt came walking back, with two burly men. One had black hair and a very slight gut, and the other had brown hair and a similarly colored goatee, but neither made much of an impression beyond that.

Matt slapped one on the shoulder. “Larry and James, here, will join us for guns and a chance to earn cards.”

“That makes six so far,” Emily said. “How many were you thinking?”

“Have a seat, guys,” Noah said, waving to the end of the table. “There’s some corn left. To answer your question, Emily, as many as we can get. But I want at least ten guys, besides us, if we’re doing this.”

“Can we feed that many?” Emily asked, staring at her own mostly eaten ear.

“We can carry two days’ food on our backs, and hunt or scavenge to make up the difference. From our best guesses on distance and terrain, I think we’ll make it to the Zorin Bog in about five days. Far less if we didn’t have to curve around the Ashtae elves.”

“It’s only half a day at most by boat, if the winds are right,” Lika said, licking her fingers unselfconsciously. “But enough about that. No one cares.”

“Okay… what should we talk about then?” Emily asked.

“Actually,” Noah started.

“Achtually,” Emily said with a derpy face, laughing loudly.

A few of the people around them looked over, their faces fierce. Many had tear streaks, wounds, or both. Noah could tell that his group had been annoying everyone.

While he was a big proponent of free speech—and happiness—he didn’t want to hurt people’s feelings for no reason. He knew how he would feel if he found Hope dead.

Noah pointed to some people. “Maybe don’t… be so obviously joyous right now. For their sake.”

Everyone looked, seeing the glares around them, then set back to eating with less discussion.

“So, about that building card,” Noah said quietly. “If it can do what it says—”

“It can,” Lika interjected.

“—then maybe we can trade it to one of Kevin’s people, here. It’ll make for an excellent strong point and we can get some extra guns and ammo. To equip the people that didn’t get out of Emporia with weapons, that still want to join us.”

The talkative goblin—Mok—said something else.

“What’s he want?” Noah asked.

“He wants to know if he can have a weapon as well,” Lika said, setting the last of her corn down and burping loudly. Her two goblin buddies laughed, and one clapped.

“Shh!” Emily said, nodding her head to people. “Remember?”

“Why are you guys so upset?” Lika said. “Goblins die all the time. Just breed more. If most of you are dying, you’re gonna have to anyway.”

Noah ignored the aside.

“He can have a gun as well,” Noah said, setting the last of his food down. “Now, let’s go see Kevin again. Perhaps we can trade the card and get out of here.”

Then Noah stopped. “I wonder if that damage increase would work on a missile fired from the building?”