"Hello! Any survivors?"

The rubble from the rock slide had broken apart and crumbled during its fall and had been relatively easy to move out of the way with the sheer manpower they had.

Once an opening had been made to connect the outside air to the stale atmosphere in the cave Scratch called out towards the goblins trapped inside.

A fain whisper came from the other side.

"Quiet, raise your damn voice for once in your life. I can't hear you!"

"Inside we're fine!" The soft spoken goblin squeaked out as loud as he could. "But Hay-"

"Under the rubble. We found him."

Quiet fell silent.

"You kids go hang out with the dogs, we'll have this opened up in no time."

-

No time took a lot longer than expected.

More rubble kept sliding down from the compromised cliff face as they tried digging under it.

When eventually the place had been cleaned out it looked like a giant had taken a bite out of the mountain. The front of the foyer was gone and the room was exposed to the open air.

Huckabee whistled. "That's some damage." For once he had been spared the taxing physical work. For being abandoned with the cargo and reaching the village much later.

Gildo was in the same boat, and he was likewise relaxed. "That guy sure knew when to strike. If we'd been here he wouldn't have been able to get away with all this."

"Managgia, he knew because he was informed," Aimone panted, "the leadership has stabbed us in the back." He fished a handkerchief to wipe the sweat off his brow.

"No... that can't be." Gildo stammered.

"We haven't exactly been playing good little subjects." Scratch was handing out cold drinks, water with tea leaves in them. He only carried two so after Huckabee and Gildo grabbed a mug Aimone fished behind the net. "People don't hand out independence freely, you can expect a little push back."

"You must be happy, goblin." Aimone spat. "Now that you've been given an excuse."

"An excuse for what exactly, hotshot?" Scratch responded angrily.

Aimone didn't answer.

"You know I just lost a son, yeah? That's still fresh. I can't be diplomatic with you right now, because right now I'm-" He stopped himself. "I'm just going to remove myself from you." And he walked away.

"Great, Aimone. Very tactful." Gildo said to him.

"What? It's a goblin."

"A goblin that lost his son." Huckabee responded. He and Gildo both took a judgmental sip from their drinks.

"Managgia." Aimone slapped his forehead in frustration.

----------------------------------------

The goblins were gradually leaking out of the village.

The mess of the attack had been cleared up and they'd received a credible promise that they weren't in any danger anymore. So the mothers said goodbye to their bandit friends and proceeded to herd the gaggles of energetic children back to their homes.

The kids seemed to have made friends between tribes and were enthusiastically applying the concept of formal goodbyes again and again on each and every one, holding up the process tremendously.

The main family retreated from the mixing around the gate and proceeded to mourn their fallen.

"Lately we've been making small memorials for the dead." Scratch said softly, holding up a ribbon of cloth. "There's a tree just outside the village where we tie lints to..."

"I want him buried." Harkness said, not looking up from Angus' body. She was kneeling over the hobgoblin's body.

"... Sure. We'll bury him. Him and Hayato. It's so the slimes don't get at them, isn't it?" He squeezed her shoulder and she nodded.

"Will Angus... feel it? If the slimes..." Felix asked.

"I'm afraid Angus doesn't feel anything anymore, son."

"Does Barbara know? About Hayato." Jasper questioned.

"I think she does, she can be at the burial too."

-

Once again Harkness was able to strong arm Stanford into conducting a religious ritual.

The children received a grave near the half-destroyed square in front of the opened up cave, away from the water tower. Their bodies had already been lowered in and the family stood around it, waiting for the healer to speak.

"N-now I am not an official speaker for the dead..." He began anxiously, but gained more confidence as he spoke, "and we haven't had much ritual for the past decade of banditry. I suppose that's a privilege we left to citizens of the kingdom. Anyhow, I will not be calling upon Benesant by name today. Rather than pray for safe passage we can wish... wish for rest for these children. They may not have been loved by the gods, but they were loved, I can see that clearly. May their spirits be at peace... amen."

The siblings and parents clapped and then began to fill the graves with dirt.

Harkness went to thank Stanford afterwards, while Scratch took the time to talk business with Barbara.

"Have you kept up with the gossip around town?" He asked while scratching at his parasite under the sleeve.

"About what?" She was tired.

"About your in-law setting this whole thing up."

"Fyro Harkness? Fyro Harkness killed Hayato?" Her tiredness immediately melted away and gave way to anger as she raised her voice.

He gestured at her to keep it down and not alarm the boys. "Indirectly. Yes. The good news is he's overplayed his hand here and we can punish him for it, but we need allies on the inside."

"Like who?"

"Like a certain relative?"

"Ohoho. Nonono." She laughed as a defense mechanism against the discomfort the idea made her feel. "No way, not Mabel, no."

"Why not? You're sisters, you speak the same language." He leaned closer to her. "This is the future I promised you, where you gain control over the smuggling ring."

"But not with Mabel. I hate her as much as I hate him, she betrayed me."

He stared at her blankly for a moment. "And I raped you. Barbara. Do you remember that? How I used you as an object to strengthen my tribe? I had them run a train-"

"I remember." She cut him off perturbed. "But Mabel betrayed me. I can never trust her again."

He laughed. "Oh, is that all? No that's fine, don't trust her. The best business relationships aren't build on trust, but on mutual interest."

"What does that mean? What are you planning?"

"I'm gonna come back to you on this. Okay? Let's comfort Hayato's brothers. Before two months are over, I'll give you what was promised."

----------------------------------------

The next time Lacrima came to visit the steel forge the goblins had prepared for her arrival.

The closest flat area next to the foamy rocks that led into the sea was decorated with pic-nic blankets and bowls of fire.

As the owl soared through the underground cavern a tiny festival came into view, the main family sharing bread, freshly roasted meat and berry paste.

When she landed Scratch and his children were there to welcome her.

"My my, what a surprise." The witch proclaimed as she took human form inside her blanket.

"Madam Lacrima, always a pleasure." Scratch bowed. Jasper, Ada and Felix mimicked it hastily without much enthusiasm. They had been taught manners but not developed much of passion for them.

"Such politeness, are you the same Scratch from last time?" She chuckled.

"There are surface dwellers with us today," he spoke quasi conspiratorial out of the side of his mouth, "so we're keeping up appearances if that's alright."

"Ah, the Harkness girl is here?"

"Lydia is tending to the roast, I'll be asking you to join us in a moment. But first... Ada?"

"Why me?" The hobgoblin girl complained.

"Because you're both women, it's part of the social contract. Now don't be rude to our guest."

"What's this about?" The witch asked suspiciously.

"You always come here in big robes." Felix explained. "You left the last one on the ground."

"Rather than build up a collection of the things we've engineered a bit of an amenity for you, Ada will show you the way." Scratch gestured back towards where the sea met the rocky stone.

There stood a little tent. Not unlike what you would see on a beach. In it they had arranged a wardrobe of oversized men's clothing.

"Dad says this is your tent for when you're visiting." Ada explained as they had entered. "So you don't need those weird blankets."

"How very considerate. I would do best to ship some dresses of my own however." Lacrima commented as she examined the rough-treaded bandit clothing.

"Yeah, whatever." The girl looked away as the old woman began to change clothing.

"In my younger, wilder days I would have no compunction appearing naked before my hosts." The witch mused as she got dressed. "I would shock and wow them when taking my human form. Alas, with the dues of time that sort of thing is less appreciated every year."

"You need us to appreciate you?" Ada wondered.

"Hhm? No, but it's nice when you are, wouldn't you agree?"

"Hhm..."

-

After the old woman had picked out a serviceable pantsuit and a shawl for fashion reasons she led herself be escorted by the hobgoblin girl to the rest of the company.

A pic-nic blanket was positioned on one of the higher grounds to overlook the forge in the distance. On the blanket stood a single squat wooden chair with cushions and to the side a campfire grilled a spit-roast of a cockatrice.

Quiet and Second were there, as well as Fyro, Mac, George and Benjamin, and Haruto, some of Barbara's earliest spawn.

Harkness and Barbara were the adults expected to oversee the impromptu party, but they looked lost, it had been suddenly dropped on them. It was in the goblins' nature to take things in stride, but the women were baffled by the sudden vacation atmosphere.

"Ah, speak of the devil." Scratch suddenly appeared. "Thank you Ada. Felix and Jasper are... around." He gestured towards the other blankets around where different cliques of goblins clustered playing their own games. It was an invitation for her to go and play.

"Will there be bird leftover when we come back."

"We don't feed you scraps, honey. There'll be bird at the kids' table." He reached up to pinch her cheek. Then he took the witch's elbow from her.

"You strike me as a discrete person." Scratch whispered to Lacrima as she once again adopted the posture of a frail old woman when approaching the gathering. "Can I ask you to be discrete with Lydia too?"

"Oh dearie, auntie Lacrima has kept more secrets than you can count." The woman croaked.

"Good. Because I don't think she's ready for all this dungeon business."

Lacrima looked at him with a puzzled expression but didn't have time to inquire further as they had reached and been noticed by the party.

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

"Our guest of honor has arrived." Scratch announced as he helped her sit down in the comfortable chair.

"Ma'am." The women nodded their heads respectfully towards their elder. Harkness gestured behind her. "As you can see, the forge..."

"Let's not talk business right away," Scratch interrupted, "let the woman rest after coming all this way."

"But-"

"We have an entire meal to get through. There's no hurry at all."

"Very well then," Lacrima answered decisively, "it's been a while since I've been a guest of honor."

-

The roast was served as slices and bones, with canned vegetables and crackers as sides.

With the refugees leaving so soon they had decided to use the emergency rations to cook a feast with instead.

The guest of honor was less impressed. She had the ability to eat meat every day, with bread from a real baker and fresh vegetables. What was a feast to these outcasts looked rather inferior to her.

The others were seated on the ground before her, trying to look dignified with a plate of food in their hands.

"So, I hear you run the orphanage." Scratch decided to make small talk. "A charity?"

Lacrima put her food aside, she wasn't interested in it. "Yes, my children. I was never able to have little ones of my own. So I decided to take care of the lost ones of Eston."

"That's sweet." Harkness commented. "What are their names?"

"That- Well there are a lot of them. And anyway, it's my apprentice that handles them most of the day." Curiously she brushed off the topic and brought up another. "Speaking off Eston and its charities, see here what I got form the church's pastor." She held up another item that she had clutched in her owl form. A small red chain.

Harkness received it. "The healer's pendant?"

"Apparently my gift to you had been cursed and ended up on an adventurer."

"How rude of me to regift gifts." Scratch smiled.

"Ruder than you think." Lacrima sniffed. "Do you know what a curse is?"

"Not quite dark magic?" He glanced at Harkness.

"Curses cast by monsters might as well be dark magic." Lacrima spoke sternly. "For how they seem to adventurers. But do you know what they are?"

"Lady. I don't even know what magic is." Scratch responded in slight exasperation. "It's all mumbo jumbo to me."

"Well then listen here," she looked at multiple people to address them as a group, "a normal spell is cast and done with. You arrange for the mana to escape, and while it does it causes an effect. That part you know."

A few of the goblins shrugged at each other and continued stuffing their mouths.

"But a curse is not a spell. It is an entity by itself. The curse clings to an object or person and continues to cast a single effect, like a spell maintained by a concentrated caster."

"If that's how it works, where does it get the mana?" Barbara asked, extending the lecture further.

Lacrima looked at her properly for the first time, there was a hint of recognition, but she dismissed it. The two where from different, mutually distrustful, branches of the guild. "That's a fine question dearie. A curse doesn't use mana. It doesn't store magic but directs it immediately, like the stony gaze of a cockatrice." She held up the bird leg. "That's why outside of dungeons, their effects can not be very strong."

"Since in dungeons the flow of magic is stronger." Barbara stated her thoughts out loud. "That makes sense..."

"Yes... so, where was I?" The witch pondered. "Oh yes. I don't know which one of you cursed that expensive necklace I gave, but the curse had to be manually removed by the pastor. The useless remains of the curse still cling to it, making it ugly and inelegant."

"I don't see anything." Harkness commented, inspecting the red chain.

"Hhmpf, well for a witch, who can observe magic, it's been defaced."

"And what about the man you took it from. The slayer?" Harkness wanted to know. "Is he...?"

"So you knew then." Lacrima narrowed her eyes. "How he knew too much."

"N-no. He ki-"

"Definitely." Scratch said with his mouth full. "A persistent character, I tried to warn you of him before."

"It's Fyro!" Barbara blurted out. "Fyro told him about everything and send him to us."

The witch raised an eyebrow. "Is that true?"

"Did you ever trust the man?" Scratch said calmly, while staring at Barbara to keep herself to the background.

"Even I have a hard time believing that he would sabotage his own fortress."

"Don't believe it." Scratch spoke over whatever Barbara was about to say. "But do you really think the fortress was his idea? The man has no use for well fed smugglers, what he wants is scared campers that he can control."

"What you're implying..." the witch began carefully, "is that Fyro Harkness deliberately leaked the secrets of the thieves' guild, potentially exposing all of us to the eyes of the nobility."

"Not so much implying as outright stating." Scratch responded smugly. "But you don't need to believe it. Yet. Just tell me what would happen if it's true."

"If it's true..." The witch contemplated. "We cannot convict a member of the leadership of betrayal just like that. There would need to be a meeting, a unanimous vote. Even then, his own following could rise up against us."

"Are they that loyal?"

"They are his own followers, they'd rely on his version of events, wouldn't they? They'd be paranoid of another branch trying to attack theirs."

"A man on the inside." Scratch snapped his fingers. "Done. What else?"

Lacrima looked befuddled, she looked around whether he had done something. "What?"

"On the risk of his followers rebelling," Scratch explained, "we have someone on the inside for that."

"What Scratch means," Harkness continued, "is that we can get support from someone they trust."

"Even if that is true," Lacrima continued unsure, "there's still the liege."

"Liege?" Harkness asked. "The fourth leader?"

"I don't know where you learn these things dearie, but yes, our fourth member. Mac would vote with me most likely, but Fyro has the liege's support."

"Why? Are they friends?" Scratch wanted to know.

She shook her head. "He just favors stability. The liege is not a local boss. He has power in cities all over the region. He likes to keep the status quo."

"But Fyro is not really a font of stability, is he?"

"Those are your words. How would you convince the liege, who relies only on the whispers of his followers to inform him?"

"Bullshit. You're telling me that son of a bitch is untouchable?" Barbara clenched her fists.

"I do know you..." Lacrima suddenly said, "aren't you-?"

"So all we need is something undeniable. A smoking gun. A witness testimony. And we'll have the liege guy and his whisperers on our side?" Scratch clasped his hands.

"Of course. What else would you expect?"

"Nono, this is excellent. Sometimes loyalty or incentives can pull people either way, but in this case it's just a matter of proof. That's good." He raised up a glass. "Come guys, show her the steel, it's time to talk business."

"Why do I feel we've been talking business all this time?" The witch mumbled under her breath.

-

From the initial runs of the steel mill came the product samples.

They were rectangular strips of shiny metal that could be easily stacked on top of each other and lifted by goblin hands.

"Produced according to specifications." Scratch announced proudly, "I'll let the expert do the talking."

"Yeah... so... right." George stammered from behind the sheet. "We read the instructions very carefully, but we had to try a few times to get it right."

"Talk about the good parts George," Scratch spurred, "try upselling the product."

"Uhh... uh." The boy got nervous having to present with no preparation. "Steel is strong but flexible. It can be used for many purposes."

"She knows all that."

"Yes. But. We made these strips. These strips can be used for any purpose, it's enough to make a sword and they can be combined for armor, or attached to a shield... And! And it's easy to transport because you can stack them into cubes... so..."

Lacrima touched one of the samples. "Very good. I want six dozen sets of full armor before winter."

"A dozen a month?!" Harkness gasped.

Scratch gave a nervous laugh. "I know you're happy with the free labour, but transport and reselling would actually be easier in the generic shape. Not to mention the expertise-"

"Watch yourself boy." The witch scoffed. "I am no smuggler, this isn't for reselling, the arms are for my own use."

Harkness spoke up to protest. "You can't expect them to complete such an order in-"

But Lacrima held her hand up, surging threateningly with magical energy.

"We don't have that much iron." George stated seriously.

"The recipe you gave use uses only the raw iron at the core of the vein." Scratch continued. "If there was a way to get pig-iron from the surrounding magnetite. I mean, that's how you're supposed to do it, right? The iron within the rock..."

"You've dug into the underground cavern system." Lacrima stated. "Many iron pockets should be opened up to you. I will grant you the magic to detect them, dearie. That's the trade."

"Ma'am, this is a not a fair trade." Harkness continued to complain, more demure and polite this time. "You're putting us to work. It's-"

Scratch tugged on her sleeve and hissed at her. "You're used to this. Don't piss off that lady with the superpowers."

"Don't be mistaken, bandit." Lacrima said smugly. "I may act friendly, but I am forcing you. That is the privilege the strong have over the weak."

"Listen," Scratch put on a friendly tone to calm the situation, "I'm an accountant. When an account pays for more than the book value of an asset he notes it down as spend on Good Will. I'd like to believe we've earned some good will with you, haven't we Lacri'?"

"Not yet..." The with was less than charmed by the nickname.

"But now you've sunk resources into this village." He tapped the side of his nose. "Negotiated with the pastor, created magic items, shared the recipe for steel. After all that, you wouldn't let us be destroyed, would you?"

"I suppose not..."

"You would want to protect this place. Against ambitious smuggler lords that would rather see us disbanded. If only just to receive your steel."

Lacrima looked between him and the bandit leader. "Be careful dearie, this one's a schemer." Then she turned around and left.

"That could have gone better." Barbara sighed.

"Nah." Scratch responded. "She's an ally."

----------------------------------------

Not too long after the pic-nic thoughts returned to rebuilding.

"We better stop building the chimney then." Second remarked as he and Scratch looked at the hole in the cave from a distance. "So we can all work on the repairs."

"Yeah..." Scratch was chewing on nothing in particular. "You know what? It's an opportunity."

"For what?"

"For renovation. It was getting crammed anyway. How about instead of putting in a new wall we extend the home outward."

"You mean... build another warehouse against the cliff?" Second raised his eyebrow.

"Sure. Or... it wouldn't be a warehouse but just a house. We have gathered expertise on walls and roofs, right?"

"Yeah, but you send all of them out to build those houses in the colonies."

"The goblins, yes. But the bandits that taught them are still here, the men at least."

Second looked around him. "You want the humans to build our home for us? How?"

"What do you mean, 'how'?"

"How can you get them to do that?"

"Second." He patted him on the shoulder. "Once you've convinced them to spawn your children, the rest is child's play." He gestured with his head have him follow. "Come."

Second stiffened. "Are you going to Lydia?"

"Yes."

He didn't show any intention of following.

"Are you still hung up about all that?"

"So what if I am? Will you kill me too?"

Scratch rolled his eyes and shrugged. "You need to find your peace, brother." Then he left.

-

Harkness was teaching her remaining children how to read when Scratch entered the tent.

They were sitting in a circle on the floor, with a book in their midst.

"Ho-hon-our." Jasper stammered.

"It's actually honour." She corrected. "It's spelled with a 'U'."

Ada laughed at his mistake.

Felix wasn't paying attention at all. He was leaning his head in his hands and straightened up when his father entered.

"Hi there." Scratch nonchalantly sauntered between them and kissed Harkness on her cheek. "Is the lesson going well?"

"They're fast learners." She responded.

"We're reading about knights." Ada proclaimed.

"Knights, oh my. Did you learn about their weaknesses and vulnerabilities?"

"Uh. No."

He sat down on the ground besides them. "What I want is a living room."

The bandit leader was a bit surprised. "A living room?"

"What's a living room?" The kids wanted to know.

"A living room is like what we had in the foyer, but proper. In a real house with real windows. That's the kinda place where you teach your children how to read."

Harkness lifted him up and put him in her lap.

"H-hey. Don't do that."

Ada gave a mocking laugh as the mother began to play with his hands. "You want us to have a house of our own?"

"Yes. And why not? A big mansion, connected directly to the cave entrance. Just for us."

"Just for us? And what about the other goblins in the village? And the humans?"

"You're from a knight's family, right? Don't they usually live in bigger houses than the peasants?"

"Sometimes. But they pay for those."

He looked around at the kids to gain their support. "Then we'll pay. Right?"

"Yes! Oh, can we? Can we live in a real house?" Ada gasped.

"A mansion like in the books?" Felix proposed.

The mother sighed. "Now you know that wouldn't be fair to Huckabee and the others."

"Then they can just come and live with us!" Felix enthusiastically stated. "We'll build a great big castle for everybody!"

"Come on Lydia." Scratch tutted. "Don't you get tired of being fair all the time?"

"Bad." Harkness gave him a light slap on the side of his head. "You should behave."

"Kids." Scratch stated. "It's getting late. Why don't you see if you can help Quiet make dinner?"

"But it's-"

"Go see."

When they had left the bandit leader was about to put the goblin father aside to focus on her work.

"Lydia." He said in a serious tone. "You realize you can't groom me, right?"

"I-?"

"I know how it works, and I don't judge you for it. That's how people like you do things, you try to be a parent and a lover at the same time. That way you can control how they think."

"Scratchie, I don't..."

"As I said. I don't judge. For heaven's sake you better believe that I've done a lot worse, or let a lot worse happen rather. I'm just saying that it won't work on me. I'm stuck, I'm set, my personality has crystallized."

She stared at him, then tears formed in her eyes.

"It's not... That's not who I want to be."

"Oh no. Did I make you cry?" He hugged her head and tried to comfort her. "Shh. Shh. It's fine, it's fine."

"That's not- *hic* -how I want to think I am." She cried into his tunic.

"Oh boy. Sure let it out. You don't need to be strong in front of me." He comforted her, she gripped him tighter.

"I'm a horrible person. Aren't I?"

"No. There's no such thing."

"I'm not a leader. I'm not a- a-" She cried again.

"You're you. And the first step is learning that that's good enough." He offered.

Regardless, they remained motionless for some time while she vented. After that she had apologize again for having emotions.

----------------------------------------

mines

All throughout the world metals and minerals occur in the ground in the form of small pockets.

Often humans or dwarves will dig out these materials in order to create tools or weapons. The open space created due to this excavation is called a 'mine'.

The resources in a mine are quickly depleted, as single pockets rarely contain enough material to keep dedicated miners busy for more than a month. Afterwards, the mine is abandoned and usually becomes a home to monsters.

Since mineshafts tend to be narrower than natural caves they do not develop an identical ecosystem to the caverns of the underworld. The monsters within tend to be smaller. Giant spiders, goblins, and slimes are known to make their homes in mines.

Mines created by dwarfs are usually deeper and more expansive than those of humans. They connect multiple pockets and lead all the way into the underworld. These mineshafts are also narrower and difficult for a human to travel through.