Shin peeked his head over the ramparts to confirm what his Opportunity prompt and the hobgoblins manning the walls had already confirmed: the Oaken Elves were marching on the fortress. Two columns of elves in lockstep, a massive battering ram thundering between them with all the weight and promise of an unavoidable fate. It seemed unlikely that all of these forces had been arrayed to deliver a friendly message

“Damn,” Hilde whistled, scanning the oncoming army. “That’s what, a hundred elves? Two hundred?”

“At least two hundred,” Gero muttered. “All with bows. This is the first time I’ve ever regretted Blunt Expertise.”

“Oh!” Bex piped in, “Maybe next time you could try tying your club to a really long rope or something!”

Gero’s eyes flared. “Well now we’ve gotta get out of this because I am so stealing that idea.”

Wren led his forces from the front, possibly as a show of comradery with his troops or possibly to better direct their tactics. Though it might just as well have been a ploy to stay as far away from Prince Ceril and the two majors as he could. The three Oaken Elf nobles were further back under a portable canopy, close enough to bear witness to the action but not quite so close as to risk pesky little things like arrow wounds.

The elven columns came to a halt just within range of the fortress, the first several lines of archers readying their bows against any hostile movement. Well that all seems like a pretty clear statement of intent? But Shin figured he might as well make certain.

“You really didn’t need to make the trip!” Shin called from behind the parapet, his voice echoing down to the amassed troops, “We’d have been happy to bring the good news to you!”

“Oh really!” General Wren called back, his own voice booming effortlessly over the walls. “What good news is that!”

“The hobgoblins have agreed to surrender the fortress, if you’ll promise them safe passage! You were right to send me; I’m really good at this sort of thing!”

“So I see! There’s just one problem!”

“There is?” It was difficult to affect a theatrically quizzical tone while shouting at the top of one’s lungs, but Shin managed it with aplomb. “What ever could that be?”

“I know what happened at the waystation, son! And frankly, I suspect you had something to do with what happened here as well!"

Well, one out of two wasn’t terrible. Shin pumped even more volume into his voice, making sure he reached all the way back to the noble’s dainty little pavilion. “Prince Ceril! I’m hurt! We had a Best Friend’s Promise and you broke it!”

That lured the hapless Prince out from his comfortable shade, his indignant shriek piercing the air. “You are a MURDERER and a PRINCENAPPER and you and ALL of your FLEA-BITTEN LACKEYS are DEAD! You’re ALL–”

Ceril’s tirade was interrupted when Wren stepped in front of him, the general keeping his voice low and inaudible. Whatever he was saying, the prince didn’t like it much, his arms flailing and the occasional fragment of a word or phrase ringing out when his outrage overtook him. After a surprisingly long argument, Wren slashed his hand to one side and leaned in close, his voice indistinct but his body language as clear as a bell. Ceril threw up his arms in a huff, then stomped back towards his canopy as Wren turned back towards the fortress. “I implore you to surrender yourselves and the fortress! If you and the hobgoblins submit to me, I swear that no harm will be done to you before you stand trial in Quercus.”

Hm. “Just me? What happens to my friends?”

“They’ll be escorted back to your zone, free to return home!” General Wren pressed a fist to his chest in a gesture of promise. “Our people may yet be allies, son! But only if and when you have answered for your crimes! You have an hour to decide!”

The elven general turned back to walk away, his voice still clearly carrying up to the ramparts. “Surrender, or fight and die. It’s your choice, son.”

That’s…hmm. Shin glanced back at the other kobolds, but before he could even voice the question Momo snarled at him in uncharacteristic fury. “Don’t you dare suggest that we leave you again; how dare you, Shin.”

“I broke into a gate to save you once already.” Gero gave Shin a sharp flick on the nose. “If you think I won’t break out of one to do it again, you really are an idiot.”

“Us too!” Choro clapped his hands on Koda and Karikari’s shoulders, the three kobolds determined as Shin had ever seen them. “We’re with you all the way!”

Mimasu took hold of Shin’s hand, his little face deadly serious. “I will do almost nothing to help. But I will make sure everything is written down.”

“Besides,” Gero remarked, her arms folded. “You’ve got some Big Plan, right Shin?”

Bex gasped. “Really?! I want to hear about the Big Plan!”

“Well.” Shin did his best to act coy. “Maybe a little Big Plan.”

“Yeah, well, maybe hurry up with it a bit, Furball,” Hilde deadpanned, carefully running a whetstone over her machete-like sword. “Because as soon as the hour is up, me and the boys are going to open fire regardless of which decision you made.”

“After the hour…oh!” Shin waved his hands. “Oh, no; we’re going to attack in just a few minutes.”

“Eh?” Momo tilted her head. “But he gave us an hour, so shouldn’t we use that time to plan?”

“Nope. Besides, he only gave us an hour because the sun is in his army’s eyes right now. If we’re going to attack, the best time is now.”

Hilde shrugged, slipping her blade back into its sheath. “So what’s your plan, then?”

“Okay. This is the situation, as I see it.” Shin peeped his head over the parapets again, a dozen or so kobold and hobgoblin heads peeking up behind him. “Our position really isn’t that bad. We’re defending a fortress against a relatively small force that doesn’t look to have trebuchet or mining gear. Though judging by those hats,"–Shin pointed out a few elves in, it had to be admitted, truly stupendous hats–"Those guys are mages. Really, though, our only issues are that the fortress we’re defending is mostly ruined and we’re far too short handed to actually hold up a defense. Other than that? We’re solid.”

“Oh, right. So true. Why didn’t I see it myself.” Hilde smacked herself on the forehead. “Besides our two giant, fatal weaknesses, we’re doing great. Party time at the fortress!”

“Exactly. So why don’t I fix both of those weaknesses right now?”

“Eh?” Hilde blinked. “Really? How?”

“Well, it starts like this.”

Invite to Tribe? (Y/N?)

Hilde was so shocked by the prompt’s sudden appearance that she very nearly staggered backwards off of the wall. “The shit?! Invite to…” Her eyes practically bugged out. “You can do that?!”

Shin shrugged. “Sure, why not?” He tilted his head in a question towards the other kobolds. “No objections, right?”

The other pups vociferously agreed to the invitation, Bex so thrilled with this turn of events that she too nearly tumbled off of the wall. For her part, Gero managed the most grudging nod of acceptance that a living body could muster.

Hilde ran a hand through her hair, looking unsure of herself for the first time. “I…I mean, I wanted to make a home for myself and mine. That was the point of all of this. But I always thought that meant we’d have to…” She shook off her frown, offering Shin a wry grin. “You’re serious? You won’t regret it once we stomp in and get mud over all of your nice kobold floors?”

“We’re either going to live together or die together, Hilde.” Shin extended a hand towards the hobgoblin, all levity gone from his tone. “That already makes us a Tribe. Why don’t we make it official?”

“I…” Hilde bit her lip, her golden-gray eyes taking in the impassioned nods of the other hobgoblins. And then she clasped hold of Shin’s hand with a fierce intensity, a wild cast to her manic grin. “Alright then! Yes!”

Invite to Tribe? (Y/N)

Shin watched as a familiar curtain of shimming energy enrobed the hobgoblins, the motley furs and leathers covering their solid chainmail dissolving away as their armor reshaped itself into lacquered bands of overlapping steel plate. Hilde held up her arms in fascination, testing the range of motion of her fine laminar cuirass even as her wild mane of hair drew itself back into a complex braid. “This is…” She drew her sword, the once hatchet-like weapon transformed into an elegant single edged blade. “Wow, Furball. Yeah. This just is.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

A cry of shock from behind him caught Shin off guard, the kobold turning his head to see Gero holding her club aloft. To his surprise the wave of power had sheathed her weapon as well, replacing the shards of rock embedded into its business end with a solid four foot cap of studded steel.

Gero didn’t even try to hold back her tears. “I’m, I’m just so happy…”

“Our armor has changed, too!” Momo pointed at Karikari’s chestguard, as well as Shin’s own cuirass. “Why, though?”

“What, you thought this was a one-way type of deal?” Hilde grinned, testing the edge of her sword against her thumb. “Hobgoblins invented forging. Now that you’re with us? You get the good shit.”

Bex managed to control her mounting glee long enough to squeak out a question. “Hobgoblins invented forging? I thought dwarves–”

“Yeah well dwarves’ beards grow backwards into their brains, so take what they say with a grain of salt.” Hilde jerked her chin at Koda, calling on the big blacksmith’s expertise. “You’re the smith, right? How’s your sheet looking now?”

Koda pulled up his Status Screen, the normally taciturn craftsman visible balking. “Oh wow. These bonuses are…oh, wow.”

“Well good timing, then.” Shin clapped a hand onto Koda’s back. “Because it’s time for you to do the job we brought you here for.”

“Right!” Koda pulled out his hammer and selected something on a prompt, a screen appearing at the center of the fortress.

Repairing Conquest Node (7 of 100)

Hilde frowned at Shin, concern beginning to bubble through her excitement. “That’s great and all, but didn’t you want to attack now? It’s going to take a single smith way more than an hour to repair this whole fortress.”

“Oh. It is?” Shin tapped at his chin, pondering that. “Ah, wait!” He held up a finger, his face beaming. “This says it won’t.”

Hilde barely had time to register the big gold coin that appeared above Shin’s finger before it vanished again, the Royal Coin fizzling away in blocky chunks as a bright melody played.

Repairing Conquest Node Complete (100 of 100)

“Ahhh, that was one of my Coins!” Bex bounced up and down in delight as the fortress snapped back to full repair in an instant, the ruined buildings and worn ramparts brand new once again. “I was part of the Big Plan yesss~!”

“One of her…” Hilde’s eyes went wide for what was maybe the fifth or sixth time in as many minutes as realization sunk in. “Is she a Player?!”

“It’s true. We run in dangerous circles now.” Shin cocked an eyebrow at the hobgoblin. “It’s too late to say you don’t want to join. Sorry.”

Hilde snorted, punching the kobold amiable in the shoulder. “I should’ve known. You don’t give take-backs, you don’t give time-outs…is there no depth to which you won’t sink, Furball?”

“Absolutely not. And speaking of time-outs…” Shin jerked a thumb towards where the gunners had been stationed. “I think it’s about time we get those scorpions manned, don’t you?”

“Um, about that?” One of the hobgoblins called out from the sniper’s perch, newly dressed in light robes and nervously fiddling with the spyglass in his hands. “The scorpions are sort of…gone?”

“Gone?!” Hilde glared up at the hobgoblin. “How do you lose a giant crossbow?”

“Well, I mean, they aren’t gone, they’re…well look!” He crouched down, lifting something back up with a tremendous amount of effort. “We’ve got these now, and we know how to work them? But we need someone really strong to–”

“Oh, today just keeps getting better and better.” Gero’s eyes were practically aflame as she stared up at what the former gunner was presenting. “I’ve got that covered. Awesome. This is the best.”

Hilde tapped Shin on the head. “Well this is great and all, but you’ve still only solved one of our two problems, right? Or is the plan to just die fancier than we otherwise would have?”

“Oh, right. Two problems. If only we’d had a second Royal Coin.”

Shin held up his finger, another coin appearing above it.

“Oh wait.”

————————————————————————————————————

General Wren kept as far away from the other officers as he could manage within the confines of the rather snug canopy, a biscuit of flembas bread untouched in one hand. He could barely stand to watch them, Prince Ceril and the two nobles, as they laughed and jabbered and congratulated one another as if they had already achieved some grand military victory.

Asses.

He had absolutely zero doubt that, whatever the kobolds did at the waystation, it was probably in self defense. Probably provoked. But General Wren had a duty to the Oaken Elves, not to the kobolds. And besides, the kid had already lied to his face. Multiple times. What else was he lying about?

No, Wren knew that this 'Shin' needed to be brought in. Too risky having someone that clever mucking around that close to their territory. Wouldn’t do. Needed to think of his people first.

Wren took a bite of his flembas, chewed it once, and then dropped the rest of the biscuit back onto the tray. Too dry. Flembas had a way of sticking in one’s craw, of being more of a nuisance than it was worth. Wren was certain there was a metaphor in that somewhere, but he was a warrior, not a poet.

Against his own best efforts, Wren found himself tuning into the nobles’ conversation. “–have such a reception, Your Highness!” the taller noble simpered. “You may only be Twelfth Prince, but surely after your harrowing ordeal you shall be First in the hearts of all peoples!”

Ceril puffed up so proudly at the other man’s praise that it was a wonder he didn’t rupture. Had he already forgotten the way these nobles disdained him at first? Wren didn’t know why he bothered to wonder; of course he had.

“You shall have to visit the Lady tonight,” the shorter noble offered, his eyebrows waggling lasciviously. “She shall surely wish to show her gratitude to the hero of the day! She surely shall–”

“Where is the Lady?”

The two majors glanced at Wren, offering him an expression that one might consider slightly too rude to level at an insect, or weeping pustule. “What? What did you say?”

“The Lady Bittercup.” Wren flicked a crumb of flembas off of his breastplate. “Why leave her out of your little rumpus? She’s a noble too, isn’t she?”

The taller elf scoffed. “That whore? I suppose technically, but–”

Prince Ceril cut in at that, his expression serious now that Wren had joined the conversation. “You need to kill that little shit as soon as possible.” Clearly, the royal was still unconvinced from their little argument before. “Not a prisoner, not taking him to Quercus for a trial, just dead.”

Wren rubbed his hand against the material of the canopy, attempting to wipe away the oil the flembas had left smeared on his hand. “So you’ve said.”

“I don’t even think he should be tortured! Do you have any idea how serious that fact is?” Ceril leaned forward, jabbing a finger at himself. “That beast made my life a living hell. He deserves to die slowly. But it’s not about what he deserves, okay? He’s a menace, and he’s got the mind of a fucking devil. If you let him live even a second longer than he should, he will find a way to–”

Shouts of alarm coming from the front lines knocked Ceril out of his rant, Wren already bursting out from the canopy to see what was going on. So they weren’t going to wait the whole hour, huh? Good, that was smart. They were still in an indefensible position, but Wren couldn’t help being a little pleased that his foe was still making the right–

Wait. Why did the fortress look different?

Wren squinted his eyes, quickly confirming that the form of the small citadel had actually been reshaped. The towers were wider, the gate seemed sturdier, the…Wait.

Fucking wait.

Wren straightened up slowly, sensing that the three nobles were behind him without needing to turn around. “When you were telling me all about this devil-minded menace of yours, Prince Ceril,” he started, disdain dripping from the title, “Did you neglect to mention whether or not he had a Royal Coin?”

Ceril gulped, and Wren could practically hear the color draining from his face. “Oh. Um. Yes. Yes, he actually has…”

The prince trailed off as the big kobold appeared at the top of one of the towers, every muscle in her powerful frame taut as she drew back on a bow the size of a small tree. A hobgoblin with a looking glass crouched before her, calling back instructions as the kobold brought her personal ballista to bear on the elves guarding the battering ram.

Wren began to call out instructions, only for his commands to die out as another giant kobold with another enormous bow appeared on another tower. Hadn’t there only been one big one? But then another appeared. And then another. And another.

Wren quickly realized that rather than the two dozen or so hostiles he’d addressed not ten minutes ago, the walls of the fortress now brimmed with scores of both kobolds and hobgoblins. The fortress was fully garrisoned. And there was only one way that could have happened.

He did turn around this time, finding Ceril’s face exactly as pale as he’d imagined as he took a handful of his prince’s shirt. “What were you about to say? Finish that sentence.”

Ceril took several attempts at a gulp before he finally managed to find his word. “Um, I t-think that maybe he had two?”