“Eeyore, you really don’t need to come.”

My companions and I are with the animals now. Mostly because I want to bring Dauntless with me. The goblins have so few animals in the mountain and they don’t seem to use any of them in battle. ‘Four legs clog the tunnels’, they say. Fair enough I guess, but we’re going to the base of the mountain with its wide caverns and tall ceilings. Dauntless should be fine. Eeyore on the other hand…

“You’re afraid I won’t be any help, that I’ll just get in the way,” says the donkey.

I shake my head. “No, no, it’s not that, Eeyore.”

Or is it?

The donkey’s head droops low. “It’s alright. You can tell me the truth. I never have been very useful in battle. I’d probably just getting eaten by an orc.”

“Do orcs eat donkeys?”

The head droops even lower. “Probably. Most things do.”

“I’m not sure that’s accurate, Eeyore.”

“Well, that’s what it feels like to me anyway.”

I sigh. “Look, Eeyore, I value you a lot and you’re an important part of the team. Tell you what, why don’t you come down with us to the staging area? You can stay there during the fight and if something happens you can help with you’ll be ready to go.”

Eeyore’s head raises just a smidge. “Well, alright, I guess that’ll work. Better than crying on the inside. Which is my usual plan.”

I smack the donkey on the rump. “Fantastic. I feel like we’ve won the battle already.”

“I certainly hope not!” snorts Dauntless. “I don’t want to miss out on the action!”

I grin at my ever-enthusiastic mount.

“Are you done consorting with the animals yet?” Myran asks. “You’re not flirting with them I hope. I’d hate to have Cyrus drag you before a Temple magistrate for ‘unnatural behavior’.”

He’s just jealous.

I turn back to Myran. “I’m ready. They’re both coming with us though.”

“Even the donkey?” Myran asks incredulously.

“I think it’s a wise decision,” says Cyrus. “Donkeys have a hidden strength. An aura not revealed under all situations and circumstances, but a glow that is often needed at more subtle yet still important times.”

“Whatever that means,” says Myran. “Let’s get out of here.”

So the three start our journey back to where the princess first brought me: back to the goblin wall.

I hear some jingling from the cleric as we walk through the tunnels, and I look down to see his potion belt refueled and restocked.

“Glad to see those are back,” I say. “I thought you used them all up.”

“Oh I did,” Cyrus responds. “But just as you had your own sidequest I had mine as well. Someone needed to meet with the temple leaders here.”

“You mean the clerics here have these potions as well?”

Cyrus stomps the path with his staff as he walks, like he’s trying to leave a permanent indentation or something. “Oh not all of them of course. Only a few are experts in the skills, but there are enough. The temple makes sure they are stretched out across the lands. Should one land fall the knowledge will still live on..”

“And what do the clerics think of this orc situation then?” I ask. I hear an awful lot from the goblins about deference to the Maker and to the temple. but I haven’t heard from the clerics at all.”

Cyrus pushes his hand across his bald head. “Yes, that’s by design, I’m sure. Much safer to be behind the scenes than racing around in front. And sometimes you can exert even more power that way.” He gives me a wink. “Not that the clerics are concerned with such things, I’m sure.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I roll my eyes. “I’m sure. But you haven’t answered my question.”

“Well, I think the goblin clerics are earnest. Their prayers are authentic, and they sense the urgency of the situation. Many agree with the king, but others confided in me that they’re glad you are here. And that we are taking action.”

I nod. “Well, at least we have some support then.”

“Oh we certainly have that. There is nothing to fear from the temple. Or at least not here anyway.”

“What do you mean ‘not here’?’

But the cleric only closes his and hums to himself as we continue to walk. It develops the inner eye he told me once, to walk without sight. It allows you to act when you cannot see. I told him that’ I’ll stick with my outer eyes for now.

When we reach the staging area it’s even more packed than before. The wall is packed with goblin sentries but it’s behind the wall where the action really is, with row upon row of goblin soldiers assembling. I look for our contact” Kabaret is supposed to meet us here. The princess told him we were coming.

I don’t see him anywhere though, and for a minute I’m afraid that we’re just going to get lost among our own allies; swallowed by a burgeoning swarming of swords, bows, and pikes as the goblins prepare for their great rush.

“Sir Ethan! Sir Ethan!”

I hear the shouts and turn. It is not Kabaret but Iagz, that grouchy goblin from the conspirators table. He’s looking less grumpy this time though as he slips through the crowd with remarkable alacrity.

“Come with me please, he says. We’re running out of time.”

“Have you spoken with General Zargog?” I ask. “Is he open to hearing our plan?”

“He is, though not from me. He's allowed me a seat at the table though, which is more than I had before. The princess wanted to come as well. But the general wouldn’t allow it. Said the suggestion was outrageous.”

I chuckle. “My impression is that Princess Vestra has a hard time staying out of anything.”

“You have a keen eye then. Please, hurry now. We don’t have a lot of time.”

The war room is set far back from the great wall. Two serious looking goblins guard its entrance and they review us very carefully before allowing us to pass.

Right, cause I’m gonna go in and bomb the place or something.

“You’ll have to take your animals away,” one guard says. “There’s no use for them down here. Neither is there room for them with the army continuing to swell.”

“They’ll just wait outside,” I respond.

The officer shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s sufficient.”

“Well, it’s going to have to be Iagz says briskly. Open the damn door and let us in.”

“Sir, General Z said –”

“Just open the door!”

Iagz is urgent, not sulky or grim like he was before. The guards grumble but eventually give way so that we don’t have to break in ourselves.

That would have made for an awkward entrance.

As is, the five of us enter the room in the midst of some kind of rousing speech. Everyone is focused on the general.

He stops and looks at us, or at me specifically. “So you’ve finally arrived have you?” His tone is different from when I first arrived.

Doesn’t like outsiders telling him how to run his army. Even me.

The great goblin general practically looks like an orc. He is so battered and scarred and broad and tall. He’s wearing full battle armor with an axe strapped across his back. I feel a little small in comparison, despite still being taller. There’s also the matter of the rest of the room. It seems every pair of eyes have has turned toward me and our burning through my skin, prying, evaluation, testing.

I’m silent for a moment as I kind of assumed the general’s question was rhetorical and he’d continue speaking. But he doesn’t and the silence is starting to get awkward.

Well, they are goblins. I doubt they’ll respond well to timidity.

I stride to the front of the space. The room is a long oval, perfect for the extended table resting in the middle of it. The walls are bare and the rock is plain grey so I very much doubt there is anything special about the space. Hell, it probably could have been a storage area until five minutes ago.

“My name is Sir Ethan Gambrils. I believe everyone here has heard of me.”

There are murmurs of ascent around the room. There are also some varied reactions. Some look at me like I’m Jesus himself, come to deliver all the sinners from death and damnation. Others are gazing at me like I’m some conjurer of cheap tricks: a fraud who doesn’t deserve his name. And everywhere in-between

I don’t want to be a god but if this is going to work I need them to believe in me.

“But just in case you haven’t…”

I extend my hand and beams of light shoots out, far brighter than the meager torches lining the walls. My hand is like a mini sun, glowing with perfect intensity. But this isn’t for showing-off. It’s just a demonstration. And I quickly extinguish the glow.

The room is silent. Even the general looks stunned.

“Now,” I say politely, but sternly. “Who wants to discuss strategy?”