Shin would never forget the first time he saw that strange face, orange and potato-shaped as it burst out from behind a scrub and tried to murder him with a rock. Those beady little eyes that flared in panic as the attempt to bash his head in failed. That screeching voice, loudly demanding a time-out as Shin retaliated with some serious ankle-gnawing.
Even more than that, though, he remembered the long conversation that came afterwards. The slow realization that neither of them particularly wanted to kill the other. The night that orange potato spent regaling Shin’s pack with stories about Levels and Evolution and the world beyond their zone, stories that lit the overly curious mongrel’s imagination on fire.
He knew this person. Knew their smell. There was almost nothing in common between the jittery potato of a goblin who had visited the mongrels’ zone so long ago and the tall, proud warrior woman who stood before them today, but that smell was the same. Rich, earthy, comforting. It was the scent of a friend.
Hilde didn’t let her shock impede her sense of amazement at the sudden reunion, roaring in a laugh that could probably be heard all the way back to the Oaken Elf camp. “Well shit, how d’you like that?! So you stole my whole plan then, did you Furball? I should have known.” She grinned wolfishly at Shin. “You can’t trust anyone who won’t honor a time-out.”
“Oh, I don’t honor time outs?” Shin scoffed in a performative affront. “I saw you trying to gather up leaves back then. Don’t think I couldn’t tell you were gonna jump me and shove them into my mouth and choke me to death. I know that devious little mind of yours.”
Hilde laughed again, snorting in unashamed amusement. “That move works, you know. You could have been the first to prove it, Furball.” The hobgoblin sighed. “Oh well, your loss.” She squinted an eye, leaning forward as she gave the kobold a more thorough once over. “Well now~, look at you! Who knew there was such a pretty boy hiding behind that drooling fluff pile?”
Gero huffed indignantly at the hobgoblin’s assessment, but Shin was determined to give as good as he got. “I’ve always been a handsome devil, you just couldn’t see it clearly with those little doll eyes you used to have. But you are…” He trailed off as a detail occurred to him. “Oh. I actually kinda assumed you were a boy back then? So, sorry if that was weird?”
“Eh? Oh!’ Hilde waved Shin’s concerns off with good-natured dismissal. “Totally not a problem. Frankly, I wasn’t really a boy or a girl when I was a goblin.”
Shin tilted his head. “Really?”
“Oh yeah. The whole downstairs region when I was a goblin?”–Hilde gave a sliding whistle, flicking her hand down past her groin–”Totally flat. Nothing. Zip. Trash monsters don’t really have physical sexes, and from what I’ve seen most don’t get around to developing genders either.”
Goddess that was fascinating. Shin hadn’t really considered it yet, but it was true that there was literally zero sexual dimorphism among mongrels. From a strictly physical standpoint there wasn’t any difference between a boy mongrel and a girl mongrel; they simply were whatever they said they were.. They’d had more going on between their legs as mongrels than goblins apparently did, sure, but it was still just the one setup for everyone, and it was only ever used as a pee-delivery system.
It was more cultural than biological. Mongrels were popped, not born, so what they had was exclusively used for claiming territory and asserting dominance. And also for peeing on wasp nests as on a dare.
All things being equal, Shin found he preferred the way things were now. It was more complicated, certainly, but all the more exciting. “I guess we’ve both come a long way, haven’t we?”
Hilde nodded, planting a hand to her hip. “We sure have, Furball, we sure..” She trailed off, slowly raising her eyebrows as someone over Shin’s shoulder drew her focus. “Uh, what’s that one doing?”
“Hm?” Shin turned around to see Mimi, the scribe pressing his hands to either side of his head as he concentrated with every bit of force he could muster. “Oh. This is Mimasu.” Shin gestured towards the pile of weapons. “He added his book to the pile, so I’m pretty sure he’s trying to commit everything that’s being said to memory.”
“Ha!’ Hilde snorted again, turning back towards the fort. “Well tell the scribe to retrieve his ‘weapon’ before he explodes his own brain, and let’s get inside already. I seem to recall a certain fluff pile mentioning something about negotiating a truce.”
Shin had entered this zone with only the loosest outline of a plan, knowing full well that the details on the ground would dictate the paths he took towards his ultimate goal. Even a surprise he never could have anticipated like this reunion was filtered in and processed, schemes begetting schemes begetting more schemes.
And with every new piece that fell onto the table, the picture of the puzzle began to reveal itself. Now Shin just had to figure out how they all fit together.
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Gero drew up closely beside Shin as the kobolds followed Hilde into the fortress, her voice low and serious. “I don’t like this.”
“Hm.” Shin couldn’t help noticing that she wasn’t resting her club jauntily on her shoulder, holding it tensely at her side instead. “What’s the matter?”
“Dunno. Something seems off. Also,”–She sniffed meaningfully at the air–”You noticed that, right?”
“Yep.” Shin took another sniff himself. “Hopefully our old friend can illuminate us on that one. Was there more, though?”
“Hmph.” Gero glanced purposefully away. “Also she’s annoying. So there’s that.”
Was she? Shin hadn’t noticed. Neither had Bex, judging by the way the honorary kobold was hanging off of Hilde’s every word.
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“–Mostly found them in the woods. There’re lots of gobbos out there, after all.” Hilde nodded at her wary companions as they stepped into the square of the fortress, the other hobgoblins peering down from the walls at the unknown guests. “The ones manning the scorpions are from the Tentree Village Instance, though.” Hilde shook her head. “Nasty business, that.”
Bex gasped, her hands balled with excitement. “They’re from the Instance?! How does that even work?!”
“Only by a lot of nonsense trying to out-nonsense itself, that’s how. A Player has to kite the Monster all the way out of the Instance without actually attacking and then vanish off to wherever it is they go. Then the stranded Monster just sort of stands there until someone offs them, or snaps them out of it.” Hilde snapped a signal of greeting to the two hobgoblins manning the small, portable ballista at the top of the ramparts, the gunners immediately returning the gesture. “They’re good guys. Glad I was in the right place at the right time.”
It was difficult for Shin to think about anything other than the scorpions, and how desperately he wanted to mount a few on the top of Shinki Itten’s watchtower, but his calculating eyes couldn’t resist taking a few notes all the same. There were probably no more than a dozen of the hobgoblins, including Hilde, mostly all some flavor of Warrior. Too few to take over a fortress like this, and even then with entirely the wrong class make up.
And now that he was inside the fortress itself, Shin could see that significant damage had been dealt to the structure. Presumably that occurred during the conquest, but...the hobgoblins seemed uninjured, despite their lack of an obvious Cleric or Medic.
Something was off.
But that would have to wait for a moment, because Hilde threw open the doors to the fortress’s barracks and introduced them to a puzzle far too enthralling for Shin to immediately ignore. “And this,”–She waved her arm dramatically towards the shriveled little hobgoblin tucked neatly into one of the beds, his beard and wispy hair so long they nearly reached the floor–”Is Old Hob. I have no idea what his deal is.”
Old Hob, as his name might imply, was old. He was an old monster. That did not happen.
Monsters die. It’s practically their number one responsibility. They get sliced, they get smashed, they get drowned, they get blasted with bolts of lightning, they get filled with mystic bees, they get their heads caved in by super cool falling rocks like what happened to Shin’s brother. Shin remembered hearing claims about a mongrel who got snatched up by a giant bird, carried high into the air, and then dropped into an active volcano. It was probably a lie, but compared to the existence of an old monster? Entirely possible.
Because what monsters don’t do, don’t ever get to do, is grow old.
They age, of course, once they reach a certain level of complexity. Goblins don’t really age or grow but Hobgoblins do, just like a Human or Elf or Kobold would. But an elderly Hobgoblin? One that had actually aged long enough to become feeble and addle-pated? And still survived? That might happen within the Kingdom-Level races of Magica, but for someone low enough on the totem pole to still be considered a monster rather than an ‘actual’ person? The chances of not falling face-first into a slime and being dissolved at the first failings of their body could only be classified as ‘Shitty’.
Hob knew things, because Hob had been around to see things. To experience them. And all of that experience was hidden behind watery eyes that couldn’t focus, unable to escape from a mouth that hung loosely open, trapped within a brain that was inexorably turning into mush.
What a fucking tragedy.
Hilde gave Hob an affectionate rub on the arm, gently coaxing the ancient hobgoblin to shift onto his other side. “So did the elves send you with terms? Or what’s the story?”
Shin shared a look with Momo and Gero, then cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose it all depends on what you’re looking to get out of this.”
“Honestly? We just want to cut bait.” Hilde sighed. “When we first came across this place? I thought we’d hit our first stroke of luck in a long time.” She shook her head, her mouth tight with annoyance. “Should’ve known not to trust luck we didn’t make for ourselves. An empty Conquest Node, with a full fortress? Too perfect. Too easy.”
“Wait.” Momo tilted her head. “So it wasn’t you who wiped out the elves here?”
“Nope, not us.” Hilde grimaced. “Whoever it was did some nasty work here, though. Most of the buildings have been torched from the inside. And there are a bunch of stains I doubt will ever come out.”
Shin slowly nodded. “And you don’t have any Villagers, so…”
“Yeah.” Hilde nodded along with Shin. “We can’t repair the damage. We can’t hold it either, not unless we’re willing to fight to the last.” Hilde shrugged, offering the kobolds a rueful grin. “So if the elves are willing to let us walk out of here, we’d be willing to let them–”
“Wait.”
Hilde cocked an eyebrow at Gero. “What?”
“So you weren’t coming this way to attack this fortress.” Gero held her eyes steady on Hilde. “Is that right?”
The hobgoblin nodded, slowly beginning to tense up. “Yes…”
Gero took a step forward, her hand tightening around her club. “So why were you headed in this direction? With your warriors and your siege weapons?”
“And my old man, too?” Hilde retorted, prickling under Gero's hostile interrogation.
The big kobold’s eyes widened, confrontation plain in her every feature. “Answer the question.”
The hobgoblin pursed her lips for a moment, appearing to weigh her options. Then, she shrugged. “Alright, fine. I was coming after your zone’s Conquest Node.”
“I knew it.” Gero let out a triumphant growl. “I knew something was off!”
Hilde scowled. “It’s not like I knew you’d already taken over! I was coming after those guards, not you.”
“You were coming for our home.” Gero jabbed a finger into Hilde’s shoulder, both warriors drawing themselves up to their full heights and breath shortened and nostrils flared. “It’s our home!”
Shin wedged himself between the two women just in time for whatever he was going to say to die on his lips.
CONDITION TRIGGERED: OPPORTUNISM ACTIVATED
“...I think we’d better put this particular discussion on hold.”
“Why?!” Gero glared down at Shin, her every word a snarl. “Why should we give them another second?!”
“Because Ceril finally worked up the courage to turn on us.”