We left the main road around dinner time. In order to make our presence seem more legitimate, we had to check in on a dungeon halfway on our way to Athir. It made sense to me, even though the real reason was probably to milk more work out of us due to the perpetual garbage fire that was the DoD.
The further along we got, the more the trees squeezed in on us. Calling the path we took a road was stretching the meaning of the word, but the Skymirror Carriage was able to handle it without issues. Even in places where it didn’t seem like the tall wagon could fit, it became smaller to compensate. It wasn’t enough to make us uncomfortable, and was fairly neat to watch.
Ferrisdae stopped the carriage once the area opened up and we were hit by the DTER. She shivered while I frowned at the invasive feeling, but those were surface level reactions. I, for one, was glad to be in a dungeon that acted like it was supposed to.
Before either of us could comment on it, a small arrow pierced the carriage’s door. I was already reaching into my Pocket when a screeching voice filled our ears.
“You are in Tuprup Goblin territory!” the voice yelled, going up in pitch the longer they spoke. “Prepare to be robbed of your belongings as offerings to the great Tuprup Tribe!”
“Goblins,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“Goblins!” Ferrisdae said excitedly. We met eyes, and she grinned at me. “What? They’re little balls of mischief, but they’re entertaining.”
“They’re annoying,” I replied.
“You think everything that isn’t your family is annoying,” she refuted, sticking her tongue out at me.
“So long as you know you fit in that category, too.”
Ferrisdae gasped indignantly. “Hey! I’m a delight!”
“Mmhmm.” Pulling my hand out of my Pocket, I flipped open my Department of Dungeons badge. Inside the leather flap was a small slab of golden metal in the shape of two doors side by side. An ornate key with large teeth was emblazoned in the center. This was one of the defining marks of a Dungeon Inspector, and was enchanted to allow dungeons to continue working as normal even if we were inside.
Leading with the badge, I slowly opened the door. “I am Dungeon Inspector Badger,” I loudly announced, holding my hand out with the badge. “I am here with Junior Dungeon Inspector Ferrisdae. We are exiting the carriage.”
I heard a murmur from the Goblins surrounding us, and opened the door all the way. The bald creatures were short and thin with bulbous heads and large ears. Their green skin varied in intensity, with some being dark and others being light. I knew that their old leader, the Chief Toady Fritatta, was a bright apple green. They wielded strange metal and wood weapons that seemed to be made of scrap, and their armor was patchwork at best.
One of them, an olive skinned warrior with their equivalent of a halberd, approached us. She was about half a foot shorter than me, and stopped to squint at my badge as my feet hit the ground. I heard Ferrisdae leave the carriage behind me.
“We’re here on a routine checkup,” I announced. “From what we understand, Chief Toady Fritatta has either died of natural causes, wandered off, or retired, and has been replaced by someone new. Is that correct?”
The Goblin had leaned over to get a better look at my badge, and she squinted up at me before standing straight. “Ex-Chief Fritatta has gone on the Great Retirement Journey,” she explained.
“Great Retirement Journey!” the other Goblins chanted.
“What’s the Great Retirement Journey?” Ferrisdae asked, curious.
“Great Retirement Journey!” the Goblins chanted again.
“It means he wandered off,” I answered dryly.
“It’s more than just that!” the warrior complained. Then she looked around before lowering her voice. “Yeah, he really just wandered off.”
I looked back at Ferrisdae, who had a confused smile on her face as if trying to decide if that was a good outcome or a bad one, and I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it too much,” I told her before returning my attention to the warrior. “We don’t have any records of who took over. Who’s the new chief?”
“Magnificent Chief Foot Talkgood!” she yelled, gathering cheers from the other Goblins.
“So magnificent!” one yelled.
“Such wonderful hair!” another added.
“His fashion sense is impeccable!” a third screamed.
“Magnificent Chief… Foot… Talkgood…” I said aloud, getting a taste for the words. I did not like it at all. Swallowing a sigh, I gestured towards the ravine. “Shall we go and meet this new chief?”
“We shall! Follow me!” she said before marching towards the ravine. The warrior gestured at one of the other Goblins closer to the entrance with her halberd and they ran off, presumably to announce us. We did as instructed and followed.
The path led straight through the ravine until we made it to a large cave in one of the steep cliff faces. A Goblin totem was here to mark the entrance. At least, I thought it was a totem; it was poorly constructed and the more I looked at it the less I was sure it wasn’t just some piece of junk.
Ignoring the junk, we entered the Goblin's den. The cave system was tall enough that Ferrisdae only had to lean down a little bit, which meant it was close enough to regulation height that I didn't feel the need to check it.
We followed the warrior as she took us down a fairly straight path. There were several intersections and forks in the road, but it seemed as though the boss’ chamber was fairly easy to reach.
I pursed my lips to prevent myself from sighing. Most of the combat would take place outside of the den, anyway, so the layout in here wasn’t as crucial to the experience.
We passed the Goblin that had been sent ahead as they left a large cavern, and the warrior stopped a good distance away. “The Magnificent Chief is through here!” she yelled, slamming the butt of her halberd on the stone floor. “He awaits you! Probably!"
“Thanks,” I said before walking forward.
The cave system had been surprisingly clean for a bunch of Goblins, and I caught the scent of oiled leather and some woody incense I couldn’t place right away. Wrinkling my nose as I tried to place it, I paused at the entrance to the cavern.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
I had been expecting something more like a boss’ chamber where a fight would obviously happen. Perhaps some kind of arena, like Oristrella, or even a makeshift living room like the Rat King Krad. Something normal.
Instead, we walked into a cobbler’s workshop.
Shoes of all shapes and sizes lined the walls in misshapen cubbies. Tools such as awls, trenchets, gouges, and more sat on a workbench along with several pieces of leather. There was a mix of what looked like noblemen clothes and undyed linens haphazardly shoved in whatever containers were available.
“Hark! Behold!” came a screech from behind a tall pile of shoes that looked like they had no pairs. “I am the Magnificent Chief Foot Talkgood!”
A Goblin popped out, waving his hands in the air as if trying to perform magic. His clothes were puffy and pink, contrasting poorly with his light green skin. Blond hair, curled in the front and straight in the back, had been trimmed asymmetrically on his head. His yellow eyes were bloodshot, and he looked at us with a slightly crazed expression.
His leathers shoes, however, were impeccable.
“Yes, we are beholding,” I said evenly as I showed him my badge. “I am Dungeon Inspector Badger and this is Junior Dungeon Inspector Ferrisdae. We came to congratulate you on becoming the new boss of this dungeon.”
Foot paused as if he needed to take in this information before nodding hard enough that his hair fell to the floor.
“Do not behold!” he yelled, reaching down to snatch the wig before setting it back on his head. Leaning against his workbench, he tried to look nonchalant. It wasn’t working. “Most excellent, Inspectors. I have been waiting for this time to come! Ever since… the Great Retirement Journey of Ex-Chief Toady Fritatta! Welcome… to my lair!”
The Goblin waved frantically at the workshop. Ferrisdae clapped lightly, matching Foot’s energy with her own.
“It’s a pleasure to be here, Foot,” she said, probably honest. My junior gestured towards the room. “If I may ask, what exactly is all this?”
“This is my boss’ chamber!” he proudly announced. His voice was screechy and grating, and I pursed my lips. “I am the Tuprup Tribe’s premiere cobblegob and fashion expert, so of course the room had to change to fit my needs.”
Resisting the urge to correct him to his proper title of cobbler, I put my hands behind my back and started strolling around the room. Not to look at anything in particular, but to keep myself moving.
"I see. Foot, we’re here to make sure that the transfer from the old chief to you was successful and to ask a few questions,” I said. “Ferrisdae, the talisman, please.”
The Elf approached Foot and pulled a white slip of parchment out of her pocket. It would have magical ink spelling out Owner in an archaic language, and she held it up for him to examine.
“This is an Ownership Talisman,” she explained. “I’m going to stick it on your forehead and it will make sure that Ex-Chief Toady had given you the dungeon before he went on his Great Retirement Journey. The transfer process is fairly easy so we don’t require Inspectors to be present so long as we’re told that it’s happening, and as such this is really more of a bureaucratic courtesy.”
Foot eyed the talisman cautiously. “Is it going to hurt?”
“Not even a little bit,” Ferrisdae answered with a shake of her head. “After a short time, it’ll turn red if you’re the true owner of the dungeon. Otherwise, it'll stay white."
“It will be during that time that we ask you those questions,” I added. “So we can get out of your… hair faster.”
“Yes, my hair is fantastic, isn’t it?” Foot said with a toothy grin. “I grew it myself.”
“Of course.”
Ferrisdae politely coughed into her hand before holding up the talisman again. “May I?”
“Yes! Do it,” Foot replied. My junior pulled off a strip from the back of the paper and affixed it to the Goblin’s forehead. He reached up to touch it, but Ferrisdae stopped him before he could. “It’s sticky.”
“It needs to be so that it'll work,” I said as I examined the cobbler’s tools. They were in good condition. “Now, onto the questions. What prompted Toady to leave the dungeon?”
“There’s been complaints from adventurers recently,” he said quietly, turning to face me. “Right in front of our faces! It’s been really bad for morale.”
“What kind of complaints?” Ferrisdae asked.
Foot shifted nervously. “About how the Tuprup dungeon sucks and we’re not a challenge and that we suck. Ex-Chief Toady Fritatta didn’t like that, but he’s been leading the tribe for ten years and he figured that he was ready to move on.”
“So outside forces were the cause?” I asked, sharing a glance with Ferrisdae.
“I suppose so,” he answered. “We’ve had those kind of complaints a few times a year, but they really started coming down hard recently.”
Thinking about how long Toady was in charge, I followed up. “Because the old chief had been leading for ten years?”
Foot nodded. “He was getting old. The boss fight wasn’t what it used to be,” he admitted, looking down at his impeccable shoes. “So, it was time. We threw a big party, trashed the place, he left on his Great Retirement Journey, and we cleaned up. There haven’t been any adventurers since then, but it hasn’t been long.”
“Just to clarify,” I started. “This was all due to some indirect comments, correct? Nobody came and offered to take over your dungeon or anything of the sort?”
“No. Not to me, at least,” he answered, confused. “Is that something normal?”
“It isn’t,” Ferrisdae stepped in. “There’s been some issues lately with dungeons being taken over by outside forces. The owner has to agree for it to work, so there’s no danger of it being stolen or anything.”
I glanced at the Elf, but didn’t correct her. The Dungeon Master hadn’t been able to steal dungeons, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to. We also didn’t know what CC’s followers were capable of, though logic dictated that they wouldn’t be able to do much without the Dungeonborn herself.
“If you haven’t run into it, then it isn’t a problem. But, if someone does come and try to bargain for your dungeon, you let us know as soon as possible, got it?” I asked. When Foot nodded, I nodded back. “Good. Next question. Why you?”
“Why me?” he asked back, tilting his oversized head.
“Why were you chosen to be leader of the dungeon,” Ferrisdae clarified.
“Oh! Because I am the most popular of all the Goblins in the Tuprup Tribe!” Foot announced proudly, running off to grab a cape from behind the pile of single shoes. Once he put it on, he flourished it hard enough that his wig tilted on his head. He didn’t seem to notice, and thus didn’t correct it. “I was a shoe-in, really.”
I groaned.
“You could even say I had the right sole for the job!”
“Please, stop.”
Foot closed his mouth as if he was ready to make another joke. Then, he shrugged. “Just between you two and myself, I really just wanted the bigger space,” he whispered. “Nowhere else was big enough to contain my workshop. Before I became chief, I was making shoes in my room, which houses ten other goblins! They loved the shoes, but they didn’t want me tinkering into the night. I just couldn’t help myself.”
“Do you think they helped make you chief so you wouldn’t bother them anymore?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.
“No, they said it was because I was the most popular out of everyone,” he reiterated with all the confidence of a socially unaware Goblin.
“I see.”
“Look, it’s turned red!” Ferrisdae said happily. “You can take it off now, Magnificent Chief Foot.”
The Goblin reached up and pulled the talisman free. It had changed from a pure snow white to a deep crimson, and he beamed at it. “See? I am the owner of the Tuprup Tribe dungeon and its chief. Like there was any doubt!” he announced proudly.
“Doubt or not, it’s still procedure,” I said dryly. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s continue.”
“Two questions,” Foot interrupted, holding up the talisman. “Can I keep this?”
“They’re one use only, so if you’d like to then you may.”
He pumped his fist in victory. “Excellent. Second question, how many more questions are there?”
“Twenty three more,” I answered. The Goblin looked surprised, and I sighed. “It’s bureaucracy, Foot; it’s not meant to be easy. Now, tell me about how you plan on leading the dungeon from here on out…”