When Barbara was thrown to the bandits she didn't have to struggle.

The sheepish outlaws bore no grudge against her and calmly led her by the shoulder, without really inspecting her for any weapons. So the mana toxin stayed undetected between the folds of her clothes.

She calmed herself down by closing her eyes. She couldn't die here, this couldn't be the end of her life. Soon she would get an opportunity, a guard looking the other way, her bonds being loosened, something had to happen, and she would run, just keep running all the way back to Eston and never stop.

Eston would be salvation. She was known in the city, and whatever story the leadership had invented about her death would be disproven. She would seek out the city guard, the mayor, someone with authority, and tell them everything. Even if she'd get hanged herself, she would gladly spill all the guild's secrets just to drag the others down with her.

So she was biding her time. Waiting for an opening.

The bandit leader was from a knight family apparently. A dose of mana toxin would knock her out for certain, knights were equivalent to level D adventurers after all. When Harkness was going to approach her directly, before she was executed, then was the time to strike.

In practice it went a bit differently.

As far as Barbara knew the bandits had been the only group of people inhabiting the forest, but the man holding her was approached by a woman of the same age.

"The boss says we're trading prisoners."

The thought that her family might have used some back channel to save her after all occurred to Barbara, but it didn't crystallize into hope. She knew she had been utterly betrayed.

"Better tie her up some more, so she can't kick one of them to death."

"Aren't you a little too considerate of the monsters?"

"Yeah..."

Barbara protested as her arms and legs were bound together, nasty insults and angry screams muffled to almost nothing by the saliva soaked cloth in her mouth.

In the end, she never got her chance, and she didn't see the bandit leader again either.

"Amazing. A girl that doesn't bleed for a woman that does, and all this stuff."

A green hand squeezed her thigh. It couldn't be.

"Your brother is a master negotiator."

Goblins. The bandits had sunk so low that they were consorting with monsters.

Barbara's high-pitched screaming was reduced to a squeal by the gag.

They were back. They had found her. She couldn't get away.

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"She doesn't like us, does she?" Second remarked.

The captive had been secured to the far end of the private sleeping quarters in the cave via a metal hook that was drilled in the stone, and secured by the makeshift cement of wood ash and gravel, and via a rope attached to said hook. With one end of the rope tied to the hook and the other to her neck she would have the range of movement to walk around in the room, but not to reach the door. Two other hooks held up a latch at the hallway end of the door to keep her from opening it from the inside if she did escape her bindings. While the others were away the goblins in the cave had turned the room into a sturdy and effective prison.

However, getting her inside was turning out to be a bit of a hassle. The stairway down was still as narrow as it had been as a tunnel, and dragging down a squirming adult proved to be challenging. Once they had untied her legs she had kicked Dumb in the face.

"Human's don't like goblins." Said Scream, it felt painfully obvious when said out loud. Even the bandits merely tolerated and pitied them, no woman would willingly become part of what this captive had become part of.

Quiet was serving soup with bread buns, most goblins were talking among each other at the dining table while slurping their food. The subjects of discussion were the captive woman, the new buildings, and humans in general. Scratch was too occupied with his own thoughts to participate.

Six more days until the culling. Three days for a goblin to grow up, one day of pregnancy. We can stagger pregnancy and raising the litter, so three consecutive pregnancies... no, not even Drool did that and he killed her. We also need to break her spirit first... One litter then. Six more goblins to round out our defenses, it's not much, but we're more prepared than some other tribes.

He was brought out of his contemplating by Laugh addressing him directly. "When are we going to do it?" He was visibly eager.

"Hold your horses stud, you can't ride a wild horse." Scratch calmed him down. "Tomorrow we start breaking her in."

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The entrance to the cave was a disjointed brick wall with an arch leading into a wood-lined room. The arch was covered by a fur pelt to prevent the heat from escaping, similar pelts and furs were scattered in the first room, for the goblins to sleep on. A small fireplace with chimney was attached to the outer brick wall and heated up the space. At the end of the room a vertical hatch led to a hewn stone chair in a round tunnel, just large enough for a goblin to stand upright in.

The tunnel had two side entrances to excavated spaces on either side. Formerly one for dining, one as holding pen for Tiresias the cockatrice and two as personal bedrooms.

Recently the rooms had doors installed in them, flat pieces of wood sawn into the uneven shape of the entrance and treated with tar to prevent rot and with very crude iron hinges. Tiresias had been removed from her cave to a new pen and the room was now empty, save for some bird droppings. One of the bedrooms, with a soft mattress of fur outsides and moss fillings, had been turned into a cage or prison. The other had a pile of coins and non-spoilable goods taking up half the space.

The cave stretched on further, with no notable features, other than simple crafted walls, and ended at a simple fence of wooden sticks and clay, enclosing a reasonably large space for a chicken coop, although covered in complete darkness, it did have straw beds for its intended occupants. The other end of the pen was the natural rock wall, in which a strangely organic crystalline shape was embedded, Cyclophan's dungeon core.

These are geese, not chickens. Cyclophan complained.

So? Can't you turn geese into cockatrices? Scratch had his pipe in his mouth while herding the birds into the enclosure with a few of his brothers. It was the last chore to be completed before their cleaning ritual and putting themselves to bed. Most had already gone to sleep.

Only similar creatures. Pheasants, junglefowl.

Geese are fowl.

Still, too different.

Scratch took a moment to step back from his work an chewed on the mouth piece. I wanted to talk to you about my own genus. How it related to evolution.

... What were you going to say?

We're all goblins, right? And Horns was something called a hobgoblin. I could be evolved into a hobgoblin.

I can evolve creatures into monsters of the same type. Goblins and hobgoblins are definitely the same type. Some even stronger would be oni, trolls, ogres or darkspawn.

Tell me straight out. Into what creature can you evolve me?

You said you wanted something that could go among humans. I think darkspawn are pass-

Cyclophan.

Yes?

Did you hear the conversation I had with the bandits on my way back here?

Where are you going with this?

You can't make me stronger than my maximum potential. You said that right?

He had been staring in the distance intently for a while now and Kicker approached him to touch his shoulder, to see if he was alright. Scratch responded by patting him back and stepping up again to help his brothers close off the fence and finish up the chore.

Did you lie to me about being able to evolve me?

Now... technically I never said-

Do you want us to work together or not Cyclophan? How can I be your champion if you purposefully deceive me?

I... can't evolve you. Every monster has a special power, the power of goblins is to achieve their maximum potential upon birth. Goblins are on the level of slimes and giant rats in terms of divinity Scratch, that you can do the things you do... it's all because of that power boost.

Scratch sighed, almost swallowing the smoke. Tell me why I should continue on with you. What are the benefits to me?

Now Cyclophan became angry, the core creaked. How dare you? For the so manieth time now I must remind you that I am a god! You should fear me! What damage couldn't I do to the little home you've built up here? This cave is mine and this dungeon is mine too, with all the monsters that inhabit it!

Scratch didn't answer, he removed his pipe and went to bed.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

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Barbara woke up in absolute darkness after crying herself to sleep. Her hands and mouth were still bound and she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast the day before.

She was lying on a soft fur bag, it smelled like the forest. Muffled sounds of goblins and some sort of animal could be heard, she had to be in a room of sorts. She shuffled around the space cautiously, the ground was uneven, tiled with slabs of differing size and sloping downward to one side, the walls were natural rock, hewn by crude instruments and occasionally decorated with wood carvings, and the ceiling was too low for her to stand up straight. There were no windows.

She had to be underground, in a cave of sorts.

Unable to see in this darkness she had to rely on touch, which served her poorly with her arms tied behind her back. But she was able to determine where she was affixed to the wall by twisting the rope around her body and tugging on it with her weight. It budged slightly.

Barbara had been in the captivity of goblins for ages, that was a large tribe with multiple captives, any attempt at escape was futile and she had descended into a passionless melancholy. She had just spend three months convincing herself that it was finally over and suddenly she was in the woods again, like waking up from a dream. This time, she told herself, it would be different. There were no other captives, it was a smaller splinter group with no overwhelming manpower, and the man-made objects in her room made it likely there was a human civilization nearby. She could make a run for it, the dream was not yet lost.

It was hard to keep a sense of time without the sun. Barbara didn't know if it was morning or noon when the door creaked and creatures stepped into her room.

"Have you calmed down?" A voice said. It sounded like a goblin, but more articulate. "We'll be taking that thing out of your mouth, if you can bring yourself not kick anybody.

Because of the low ceiling Barbara had been sitting on the ground, she felt two small hands remove the cloth in her mouth, while two others held her by the shoulders.

"Untie my hands, I'll be good." She lied.

"You must be hungry." The individual said, ignoring her comment.

She was. In fact, she was starving, after a full day without food it felt like her stomach was burning up.

She smelled some sort of cooked meat being held in front of her, she couldn't grab it with her hands tied.

"Beg for it." The voice said.

"What is this? Who are you?"

"We-" The one behind her started talking but suddenly stopped.

"No questions. Beg us for our food."

"P-please give me your food."

"Say: 'please let me eat'."

"Please let me eat."

"Good. Well done."

After that she was fed piecemeal by her captor. The food was brought to her mouth and she could do nothing but bite down and chew.

"You need to eat, you beg for it, you need to pee, you beg for it, bathing, sleeping, it's all the same. Nod if you understand."

After hearing that Barbara lunged forward, dragging the goblin holding her shoulders with her, and bit the speaking creature in his arm. The skin was soft and supple like a child's and she quickly drew blood. It wasn't a calculated move, she had lashed out in defiance after hearing the being speak.

Her little bout of rebellion was cut short by a piece of earthenware shattering on her temple. She fell to the ground, the rancid taste of blood still in her mouth.

"We will break you." The voice said, slightly tinged in anger. He didn't give her the satisfaction of getting truly mad.

The goblins cleaned up the spilled food and left her alone.

For an entire day she was left alone, time blended together in her isolation. Noises of activity could be heard outside, but they seemed a world apart, none of her calls were acknowledged, as if she wasn't there. She found herself missing her days in the abandoned village, where she at least had the other captives to talk to. Now she had nobody. She didn't have a friend in the world.

Finally she found a way to be acknowledged, when she begged the goblins would respond. She was deprived of all the means to take care of her own body and had to grovel to be taken care of, but also to hear the voice of somebody beside herself. "Good girl, good girl." The head goblin would coo as she ate the food from their hands, or when she relieved her bladder in their clay pot. When she talked back or insulted them the punishment wasn't beatings or name calling, instead they gave her the silent treatment.

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"Break them down, to build them back up." He explained.

His partner in crime looked sceptically at a photo the prisoners presenting themselves with shaved heads and simple uniforms. "I don't think I'd be broken down by a few weeks in solitary and a new haircut." She commented.

He gave a bemused smirk. "Maybe you wouldn't, most would. What we really do here is deny them their identity, we don't address them by their name, we change what they see in the mirror, and we don't talk to them."

She lit his cigarette after her own. "So? They get some piece and quiet, what's the big whoop?"

"The big whoop is that humans are fundamentally social beings. Not being treated as a fellow human, to have your dignity taken away, that builds up anxiety, until they're desperate to be acknowledged."

"I see, that's the 'break 'em down' part."

"That's right. We want them to let go of the person they were before."

"And to build them up?"

"We drip-feed them back their dignity. When they obey they are acknowledged as people, they can build up a new identity as a servant of the Syndicate and they'll be eager to grab it. It gives them back their humanity."

She stroked the faces in the picture with her finger. "And they're all set to be suicide bombers?"

"Not at all, just a few select ones. Most of the women will make money for us walking the streets."

She grinned. "Ever used one yourself?"

"What? A house trained girl? Never."

"Why not? You gay or something?" She enjoyed flustering him.

"I'm more into the consensual kind, thank you very much. You're pretty cavalier about this, when you almost ended up a prisoner in this place yourself."

She shrugged. "They're the losers, we're the winners. There's not much more to it then that."

He put out his cigarette. "How true."

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"The leader goes first, then the rest." Laugh enthusiastically explained, gesturing towards Scratch.

"Not while we're eating, please." Scratch complained.

The less experienced goblins had turned to the older prisoners for guidance on goblin mating. Of all Laugh was the most eager in proselytizing the ecstasy of mating and the pleasurable touch of a woman.

Scratch didn't look forward to the breeding, though he saw the simple elegance in having all tribe members participate, if the paternity was uncertain, all would have a stake in seeing the child survive. Having to turn it into a communal event and seeing the others follow after him into a place of impurity was a nasty prospect.

"So. When will we?" Fat asked.

"Not yet. First we finish the new clothes, then we make new children."

It was perfectly feasible to sew the tunics for the new litter in the three days it took them to grow, he just wanted to procrastinate the event by another evening.

He wondered why he was so taken aback by the sexuality of the goblins, somewhere in his mind he had to still consider them children, their displays of lust seemed like a frightening and disturbing transformation into something inhuman.

Then again, he felt it too.

Their instincts were laser focused on breeding, the very presence of a woman made his body stand to attention. Normally goblins would see no reason not to immediately indulge in such overpowering emotion, only respect for a male above them in the hierarchy would stop them. Scratch had more long term plans for her psychology but even he could feel it drowning out his rational thought.

"Fat." He called back his brother who was going to follow the prisoners outside to play make-belief after dinner. "Go replace Biter as guard."

The crippled boy had been sat down in front of the prison door in case of an escape attempt.

"Aw, but Biter isn't even going anywhere."

"You want him to sit on his own all day? Go relieve your brother."

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After half a day of sitting by himself while the others cleaned, cooked and practiced with their knife, Biter was dozing off.

His foot didn't hurt anymore, unless he leaned on it, but it still prevented him from doing chores and having fun with the others.

Sure, Kicker and Second stopped by once in a while, but for the most part he was on his own. Whether he was on guard duty or not.

He hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep until was awoken by Fat tugging his tunic.

"My turn." His brother said dispassionately.

"I have nowhere to go anyway."

Fat just shrugged. "So, move over." He sat down next to him and immediately closed his eyes to try to fall asleep.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes before Biter began to speak.

"Do you like her?"

Fat didn't open his eyes. "Who?"

"HER." It was inconceivable that he would be referring to anyone other than the prisoner around who their lives had been revolving the past days.

"Oh, her. So... I don't know. I 'want' her, is how it's called."

Biter pressed on. "You've been asking Laugh a lot of questions."

"We had humans here before, but this, this is different." Now Fat, resigning himself to not being able to sleep, opened his eyes and stared ahead at the door.

"In a good way?"

"In a... different way. With the- with the prison. Would we keep Lydia, or Dee... or Cobaline?"

"Not Cobaline." Biter stuck out his tongue in distaste.

"That's why... I don't know. It's like, like there are two different kinds of human, the one Laugh talks about and the one Scratch talks about."

Biter crossed his arms. "It's not different at all. You know the big birds?"

He was referring to the Cassowary creatures further in the forest, when their hunting trips took them out far enough they would encounter them.

Biter continued "We hunt them, but we also run away from them. It depends on with how many we are."

Fat hesitated. "So, you say we're only nice to the humans when they're stronger than us."

"Uh-huh! Isn't that right, Scratch?"

Scratch had been standing near the stairs, listening in on their conversation.

When he was called out to he approached them. "Biter, you're staying here?"

"Can't run with the others like this."

"I thought you'd come upstairs to sit by the fire for a bit."

Biter grunted trying to stand up.

"No no, if you want to sit here that's quite alright, in fact, I can show this to both of you." He took a broad thin book out from under his arm. "Since you're stuck inside for now, how about I teach you to read?"

The book had a brightly colored cover with all the letters of the human language printed on the front. It was one of the books taken from the farm.

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The day arrived that the captured woman had to be impregnated, they were behind schedule already and the final day of the new litter's maturation would fall on thee official start of the culling.

Three days was not enough to break a spirit. But the dehumanizing treatment succeeded in making the woman passive at least.

"It's now or never." Scratch said, while he and Quiet were cleaning her body with wet rags. "She needs to birth tomorrow. Go get the others."

Quiet nodded and ran out of the room.

She had heard his words but barely reacted, only a slight clench in her jar became visible.

"Have you done this before? You may speak."

She stared blindly into the darkness. "Many times."

"I see." Somehow he knew she had been the victim of goblins before.

He slightly hated himself, cleaning her body had clearly prepared his body for the coming act. This body was given to him by a goddess, self-loathing was exactly the emotion she wanted to impose on him with it, so he was determined not to give her the satisfaction.

The woman was laid down with her back on the fur moss bag, Quiet stroked her hair like they did when she obeyed.

The broadly medieval clothing could be easily removed from the relevant area without undoing her of her constraints, but to let her take on a position that was more comfortable for the coming act they untied her legs. She did not kick anybody.

Scratch stood directly in front of her, the smell made him dizzy and the colour of her flesh evoked images of bodies grinding together in his mind.

"Let's go." Somebody behind him said, he put his hands on her knees, she looked at the ceiling retreating into her own mind.

"You're the leader, you go first." Fat whispered encouragingly.

"You know what?" Scratch suddenly said. "That's not our style. You don't wait until I'm finished to eat, do you? Anyone that's interested can have a try."

"What did he say?" "He said-" "I want-" He was almost shoved aside when the horde descended upon her, small green bodies eagerly climbed over each other and wriggled themselves into place until one had secured the location.

Laugh held on to her leg and wildly pushed on to her, using her body to pleasure himself. He was finished quickly and replaced by Biter, who took his own turn abusing her genitals with his. With every abuse and grunt the smells and juices compounded, and the woman was bruised and battered by the chaotic crowding of the bodies and thir rough treatment of her.

In the commotion Scratch left the room. He needed fresh air.

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Darkspawn

Family: Subhumans

Threat Level: B

Reward: 2000 gold pieces

Darkspawn are champions of evil. They have been known to appear in the dominion of the goblin king, and will often command armies of subhumans. Darkspawn can be of either gender, they have powerful magical ability and high strength too. They can be identified by their human appearance with discolored skin, although they will sometimes use illusion magic to disguise themselves as human.

Darkspawn slaying requests are usually issued by nobility, to prevent a goblin army from forming or growing further. Because they are surrounded by lesser minions these missions are designated as party quests by the guildmasters.

The general extermination of darkspawn has been succesful over the past decades, it is rare to encounter one outside the Yellow Fields.