It wasn't unusual for warg wolves to carry goblins on their backs.
The two families had gotten familiar enough now that the younger pups were willing to let Scratch and his brothers hitch-hike to the scene of the crime.
On the back of the beasts they reached the edge of the territory in less than a day. The creatures could deftly weave between trees and uneven terrain and were not slowed down by goblins' lithe bodies in the slightest.
"This is were we encountered the carnage." The witness recounted the events.
Without their cumbersome barking horn the goblins could not ask direct questions, but the animal felt the need to talk about its experiences naturally.
"One plated man-thing. We were taught to fear man-things, but I had never seen one. I was... curious."
-
The mill stood outside the treeline of the forest. The road to the rest of human civilization long since overgrown and barely visible.
It was a dilapidated two-story hut with an annex for the waterwheel. The dam that diverted the river into the wheel had never been closed and the device made a rhythmic noise as it kept spinning uselessly. Various materials were strewn around the ground that had been prepared for repairs that never came.
A burning smell hung in the air.
"Burning straw had been placed around the turf." The wolf said. Those that ran away were attacked first.
"Blocking off the exits, pressuring the target into a preferred location." Scratch murmured as he got off.
-
"How many goblins are here?" Pentajo asked him.
"Right now? I'm not seeing any. But before this there were twenty outsiders and two of my siblings." With gritted teeth Scratch pushed open the door, of which the lock had been kicked apart, he immediately had to avert his gaze.
"What? What's there?" The wolf raised boy reacted in concern.
"Nothing, just, you know... dead bodies." Scratch didn't stop looking away. He was nauseous.
All the goblins in the home had been dispatched quickly and efficiently, their skulls caved in with a mace or other blunt object. The first batch had been smoked out with burning hay to face the attacker in the doorpost, the really young ones had been crushed in their bed.
Scratch distanced himself from the morbid scene. He felt as if he was about to throw up, but then didn't. "Clean this up, before it stains the wood forever." He commanded the others.
"Are you-?"
"Just do it. Jesus fuckin Christ!"
He had to step away while the others handled the dirty work. The point of being the boss is that you don't have to handle the disgusting stuff yourself.
-
Not too long after, they heard the sound of horse's hooves.
Harkness had come chasing after them, her mount being slower than theirs for once.
"What happened? Did anybody die?"
Scratch gestured with his head without looking at the building. "Cleaned out."
"Dammit." She punched the saddle with gritted teeth. "After I promised her- How could this have happened?" Her question was concrete and directed at Scratch.
"One agent." He began to sum up. "Blocked exits. A funnel trap. Sharp, clean kills."
"We were supposed to be prepared for adventures."
"Are you hearing anything I'm saying?" Scratch raised his voice. "This isn't a buncha thugs making bones, this was done by a house painter, a button, you catch my meaning? A real pro."
Harkness lowered her voice. "A goblin slayer." Then she turned around and galloped away.
"What? Is that a thing?" Scratch called out after her. "Are you just going to drop some ominous lines and turn tail? Explain yourself!"
After giving their former allies a mass grave the goblins returned home as well.
----------------------------------------
"Where's Lydia?" Scratch approached the guards, who were standing around the boarded up well near the cave.
"Where were you?" Aimone wanted to know. "Did you want us to handle your vermin problem or not?"
All of them were armed with crossbows to kill dragonbats in the cavern, in order for the goblins to finish their forge.
"The boss is away. She got the guild to convene with her." Huckabee explained.
Scratch put his hand to his forehead. "This again. More whims from the knife thrower."
"Yeah." Gildo vocally agreed. "It's like we don't even get a vote."
"If it's about the future of the village, she should discuss it with me." Scratch continued.
"You mean with Beatty." Aimone raised an eyebrow.
"Whatever, let me lead you downstairs."
-
The humans had to crawl through narrow tunnels, past snarling beasts, into the opaque black darkness to reach the cthonic wilds.
"M-maybe this isn't such a good idea..." Huckabee stammered as his hand was guided to grab the rope that he would be lowered down on.
"It's a strong rope." Yuki assured him.
"But- Aaah!" Huckabee could only scream as he was lowered at a pace only slightly slower than free fall. The goblins struggled to gain control over the spinning spool and managed to do so only with Audace's help, who had cast a simple light spell to help him see.
"Hang on, Huck!" Scratch shouted downwards. "It's for the greater good!"
"Aaah!" The bandit stressed as he swung from side to side over a sea of darkness.
When he was eventually lowered unto the stone floor, at a more reasonable pace, he was so relieved that he kissed the slimy dank stone. "Gods be praised. By Geros. Or by Histolf... I don't rightly know."
The Grienicians had more composure being lowered onto the cave ground.
When they and a gaggle of goblin retainers and carriers had been gathered together there was a task force assembled to kill dragonbats.
-
"Mannaggia! How do we even shoot these damned things?" Aimone complained. "I can't see niente."
Audace floated his candlelight spell as high up as he could manage, and when they caught a glimpse of a bat they'd shoot at it, to no avail.
"Follow me." Scratch commanded. "I have a destination in mind. I just need some muscle to watch my back."
"I suppose that is what we are." Huckabee sighed.
When the group hiked through the forest of drip stone it became apparent to the humans that the goblins were carrying more material than just survivalist equipment.
It was a small caravan with polished furniture parts and iron. More than exterminators, they were an escort.
"What exactly are you here to make?" Aimone demanded to know.
"You'll see. Keep your eyes on the skies."
-
After not too long the group reached the edge of the dome, where a hole in the wall led to a tunnel cave and to the outside, reverberating the shore winds and carrying the salty sea air into the musty cave.
Crashed into the base of a drip stone wall lay Cyclophan's crystal. It stuck out like an arrowhead that had been stopped by a wooden shield and was about to fall out.
"Managgia. What's that?"
"That's the last piece of the puzzle." Scratch unhelpfully explained. "Boys! Lay out the material. Top parts to the right, supports to the left, miscellaneous in the middle."
"What's 'miscellaneous'?" Yuki asked.
"That means 'other'," His uncle noted quickly and turned to the humans. "Men! Do you have the ability to light these crossbow bolts on fire?"
"A spark is a simple spell." Huckabee said as he lit a projectile draped in an oily rag with his hand. "What are we lighting?"
Scratch made a cigarette appear from behind his ear and lit it on the burning bolt. "Nothing, just checking. Shoot any monsters that come close while we build."
"Yeah, we'll shoot the other monsters." Aimone commented.
"Good lad." The goblin condescended while ignoring the subtext.
-
With the blue grass entering his lungs, Scratch could once again hear the voice of Cyclophan.
You've gotten the things I requested of you.
We just happened to get some free gems from the witch. I wouldn't be able to explain myself trying to get it through the smugglers.
That's a good fortune.
Suspiciously so. Now tell me how we're supposed to arrange these parts. And why you haven't charmed the lizardbirds yet.
They're called dragonbats. I can't control their temperament because this cavern isn't part of my dungeon. The magic flows away freely through the branching caves. You need to wall them off to claim it.
But you do still have the tunnels above.
A thin stream connects me. It'll be more secure once the devil altar is complete.
So this IS in your interest.
Every improvement to the dungeon also strengthens you! Even if you're too stubborn to admit it.
In any case. Lay those plans on me.
-
As Cyclophan instructed Scratch, he instructed the goblins, who build a round stone table atop the crystal, with a large gem exactly in the middle.
The sounds of hammers and chisels echoed through the underground space and attracted swarms of dragonbats, but the creatures were cowardly and swerved when one of them was brought down by a flaming arrow or spell.
"Water magic sure is powerful!" Huckabee exclaimed as he saw a shard of ice explode mid-flight.
"Hah!" Aimone responded pridefully. "Not to brag, but I come from a family of adventurers. We know how to use magic!"
"Don't use up your mana showing off." Gildo complained. "Save it for a crisis."
"Yeah yeah. My mana has been coming back more quickly lately anyway. Almost like sleeping in a dungeon."
Bit by bit the altar began to take shape. It was a dainty fragile thing, made of thin planks and slate, sticking out like a sore thumb between the powerful stone pillars of the cave.
The top was a dark round circle with a bright red center. faint refractions were moving inside.
-
What's happening?
I'm engraving magic into the gem. A devil altar works much like a spellrod. Remember those?
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Listen. Even if you're gonna explain the science behind it, I won't unde-
It's very simple. Instead of a person letting their build-up mana escape through the gem, it's the constant magic flow of the dungeon being channeled through. So the spell is cast continuously.
And where do I come in?
In a moment the altar will be complete. Then I will ask you to take a deep drag on that surrogate for mana storage you have in your mouth and commune with the altar.
Commune? How?
Just... just lean on the table and close your eyes.
-
When the object had been pretty much completed Scratch addressed the goblins.
"Well done kids. I'm really proud of you now pick up some of the heavy objects and protect me while I go trance for a bit."
"Hey!" Aimone protested after looking over his shoulder to see the evil seeming construct. "What's that? What's he doing?"
But the goblins kept him at a distance while Scratch folded his legs into a yoga pose to commune with the altar.
----------------------------------------
I... feel floaty.
Your mind has descended into the abyss without your body. That's normal.
His surroundings were dark. There was no solid material above or below him and he felt like a floating speck of dust without his body.
This is where demons remain trapped. They can not enter the worlds above without the help of gods or mortal.
Worlds? Multiple? His mind immediately went to his planet of origin, Earth.
Both the surface world and the underworld that we dug into.
So were are these demons then? I don't see anything.
Look closer. They do not have a form, but they have an essence.
What's that hippy crap? Can't you just- oh.
He began to notice the soft but insistent whispers in the air. A thousand promises and wishes by eager entities.
'The blood of your enemies.' 'A mortal soul.' 'Your every carnal desire.'
The voices had clear but unseen sources. Little sparks of icy cold fire burning at different intensities.
Take your pick, dungeon keeper. Every one of these beings is offering you a deal, a sacrifice for power.
I wasn't told about any sacrifices.
These are the mimics that I summoned. Cyclophan brought for almost impossibly tiny sparks. They offer protection, and the only sacrifice they need is a dark spot to live in.
'Lashing. Lashing greedy fingers. Keeping treasure in the dark.' They whispered.
So no cutting open human sacrifices.
If you have something like that on hand I can get you a more powerful demon. But what I had in mind for you is this, a grue.
'Smash intruders. Dark rooms. Smash and chew.' The thing resembled the spark of a mimic, but much bigger.
I'm not looking for anything defensive. I want offense. Something I can take with me outside of the cave.
Look. These are all the demons related to by aspect of darkness and deception. A bubble marked itself around them filled with sparks of wildly different sizes. Living shadows. Doppelgangers. Nightmares...
The things drowned each other out with endless whispering.
So everything in this bubble excels in hiding or playing tricks?
Yes.
Then let's take a looksie outside. He floated away in search of other sparks.
No. You fool! Cyclophan cursed at him, but he ignored it.
-
Taking his time to smell the roses Scratch floated from spark to spark to hear their offers.
'Immortality.' A large one promised. 'Immortality for the soul of a king.'
Sorry. Looking at a lower price range. He floated on.
In the vast empty blackness he began to see landmarks. Impossibly large humanoid statues, holding up the ceiling of this world like Atlas the sky.
Despite his words he kept looking at the largest options around. 'Stomp on castle, burn cities, lift mountains! Eat thousand men a day.'
Yeah... let me get back at you when I have a human trafficking ring again.
One spark was immensely big. Big enough to make all previous ones seem like insects on the side of a building.
'Give me a form, summoner.' It promised. 'And I will grant you all the power you never had. Might and magic, far exceeding your potential.'
Yeah? And what's the catch?
'The love of a woman.'
Come now.
'Do you have the love of a woman to grant me?'
... I will be back.
Eventually, he did find one that asked for something he had and offered something he needed in return.
'Mana.' The simple thing said. 'Give mana, take blood, give mana.'
Will you allow me to use magic by myself?
'Give mana.'
Okay. I've chosen. Let me see, how do I do this?
He clumsily tried to collide with the demon, when he was suddenly woken up by a human shaking his body.
"Did you use dark magic? Mannagia! Speak to me!"
----------------------------------------
When Harkness returned she had people following her. Two women and a small army of goblins.
"Ma'am?" Stanford the healer, and minister of agriculture, came out to greet her.
"Where are the men? Why are none of the adults standing guard?" She wanted to know.
The gatehouse was a brick arch, almost two stories high, that could house a portcullis. But those wooden bars wouldn't stop any invader if there wasn't somebody defending it.
"They're below, clearing the cave. You know, with the goblin boss."
She sighed. "They shouldn't do things like that until I'm here to lead."
"Ma'am? Did you take Sara and Emma back from their outposts?"
"That's right. And pitch some wide tents for their kids. They're staying here for a few nights, and so will the others that are on their way."
"Wh-" He didn't dare question her, but he had a questioning look.
"We're under attack Stanford. It's not a siege, but in a way, it's worse. Our people aren't safe in Scratch's colonies."
"O-okay. I will gather some men to prepare sleeping arrangements for..."
"Less than fifty now, but there's many more on their way."
"Understood."
"I'll discuss it with Scratch later."
-
The bandit leader didn't have to go look for the goblin champion. He burst into her tent while she was there with Stanford and their children.
"You're going around gathering charity cases, Lydia?" He was still dressed in his warm weather tunic, but a disconnected long sleeve covered his right arm and hand, tied with lace to his upper arm. A spellrod poked out of the end of the sleeve.
"A noble must protect their charges. That's their purpose."
"You're not a noble anymore."
"No. But you are." She walked towards him from around her desk. "You've taken control of these tribes, haven't you Scratch? With that power comes a responsibility to protect."
"The tribes are the buffer between use and the outside." He insisted. "We build them up so we don't HAVE to protect them."
"Yes you do. Because you're their master and they rely on you." Then she turned to her children. "That is what it means to be good, kids. Not to serve those more powerful, but to serve those weaker than you. To look out for your fellow hu- people."
Scratch closed the rest of the distance between them. He looked up and she bended over to bring their faces closer.
"You got a problem with my authority?" He said in a softer tone.
"I want to be your friend, Scratch," she answered in kind, "but sometimes I have to be the adult in the room."
He looked at her intently with his one eye. "So that's what I get, huh? Shoved aside. Passed over for promotion."
She righted herself. "I don't know what any of that means. But I want to tell you that you're not as smart as you think you are."
"That's not fair!" Jasper called out. "Nobody is *that* smart! That's not his fault." He was completely sincere.
"Thanks Jasper." Scratch sighed. "Listen, Lyds, I want to keep the peace. Let's say we strike a balance, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"There's things that you want that I don't, and vice versa. So let's make a trade, right?"
She crossed her arms. "I have an open mind."
"Whenever you feel the need to 'be the adult', you discuss it with me. And we can agree on something blasphemous I get to do in exchange."
She mulled it over. "If it's not too cruel."
"Not cruel, just generally satanic. Watch." He held up the spell rod. "I nicked a water cooker rod from your stockpile. I hope you don't mind."
"So? You want to keep it? I know that you can't use-"
A lance of smokeless blue fire shot out of the device. Scratch had pointed it into the unoccupied air behind him.
"AGH!" Stanford grunted in pain. He wasn't anywhere near the fire.
"Uncle Stanford. What's wrong?" Angus rushed to him.
"I don't know. My arm suddenly..."
"How is this possible?" Harkness demanded to know.
Scratch pulled up the sleeve to reveal a leech-like parasite wrapped around his forearm. "It's a demon. It drinks my blood and in exchange it pushes mana into the spellrod. Stan. If that healer's pendant thing makes you feel everybody's pains and aches all the time, perhaps you shouldn't wear it all the time."
Stanford grabbed his head. "You're lightheaded. If you keep using that thing you'll go anemic and die."
Scratch shrugged as he put the sleeve back. "I'll eat more red meat."
Harkness violently shook her head to get a grip on the situation. "A demon? You summoned a demon!? That's dangerous!"
"That's what I wanted to say about you summoning the whole forest to our humble abode. But I guess it's goddamn necessary."
"Scratch. I'm worried."
He softened. "Me too. Let's both keep it to a minimum, okay?"
"Okay."
----------------------------------------
One benefit to gathering so many of the goblins in one place was that they could be kept busy by helping finish the steel mill.
After a few well executed exterminations by the bandits the dragonbats had been scattered and chased off to other caverns, and the cave could be filled up with scaffolding.
The rope coming down from the ceiling was turned into a proper elevator platform. It moved up and down through a wooden lattice tower and had additional ropes to bear the weight of cargo going up and down.
A mansion of empty wooden scaffolding cubes encircled the space where the enormous industrial force was supposed to be erected. It was right in-between the elevator and the devil altar, which had had a small tent pitched around it.
Countless green bodies swarmed the building site like ants. They were young goblins, barely a few weeks old and with no understanding of the world. When their mothers told them to go help downstairs, no other ideas or concepts were there to occur to them, other than waste time playing around and eating things, which they did do.
"I didn't realize how big it would be." Scratch rubbed his demon through his sleeve, but he was referring to the uncompleted forge.
"Can we really make a fire that big?" George wanted to know. Among goblins he was the undisputed master blacksmith, but that didn't mean more than a few months of experience, among humans he would barely be an apprentice.
"It seems impossible now," Scratch answered, looking at the base of the building, through which air was supposed to flow and fuel a fire big and intense enough to melt a large room full of ore, "but there's so much magic in this world. I can't rely on common sense for anything."
He seemed surprised by his own words. "Common sense... the common sense of this world. Is that what he meant?" He whispered to himself.
The hobgoblins were down below too. Their mother was busy, so their father had taken them along to see the great projects of their civilization.
They didn't show too much interest. After a while they had started playing make-believe with other shirkers and ran around pretending to be great knights.
"Take aim, cowards!" Ada proclaimed. "I'll burn this whole place down to achieve my ultimate victory!"
"That's wrong. A knight protects!" Jasper protested.
"I don't care. Haha!"
Hobgoblins had the ability to wield magic, and they had learned simple spells from the humans in the past week, so they were creating orbs of light and small flames and pretending that they were destructive weapons.
"We need backup. You, come with us to fight the dread knight Ada!" Some of the distant goblin relatives ran up to the devil altar tent to recruit more people to their game.
George looked at Scratch for permission, and he wordlessly let him excuse himself.
When the others looked for Scratch to join them too his dismissed them with a short. "Someone needs to keep watch of the fort." He preferred watching them from afar to joining in on the game.
He closed his eyes to take in the experience. The laughter of children, the rushing of the sea wind, somewhere and owl hooted.
His eyes shot open. An owl hooted?
-
From the opening that led to the outside came a flying entity. A beige tarp billowing in the wind.
On closer inspection it was Lacrima's owl, dragging the cloth behind it in its claws.
"The familiar?" Scratch spoke aloud in surprise as the bird came near him. "You found your way in, you must be smarter than you look."
The creature swooped down and right before it hit the ground up again into the tarp. Something miraculous and magic happened to it inside as it swelled up and the wrinkly old hands of an elderly human appeared outside of the material.
Lacrima had appeared before him. How she stood in the tarp it more than modestly covered her body, showing only her hands and face, like a wide falling dress. "Thank you dear." She gloated. "I am."
Knowing to keep powerful people happy he was quick to offer her what little comforts he had around, a chair to sit on, some jerky to eat. "That was quite the magic trick." He flattered.
She refused all of it with a hand gesture. "It should be. I am a witch after all, transformation is my forte. Watch."
She waved her hand and in the distance all the playing children shrunk away and disappeared.
"What?!" He gasped in shock. "What did you do?"
"I turned them into frogs," She chuckled, "if you watch closely."
"Turn them back. What's the purpose of all this?"
"Transformation magic never lasts long," she remarked snidely. "This old lady is just showing off dearie. A show of power. A subtle threat, you know the kind all too well."
She then sat herself down on the ground. "There is no Beatty, is there?"
He froze up. Without Beatty he had no power at all. The thieves' guild would march right in to take the territory.
"Tell me who your real master is. Yanis? Not that horrid water tart Arlette, is it?"
He saw his chance to lie. "I only know I fear them more than I fear you."
"Yanis then." She decided. "That old miser, still hoarding dungeons like they're silver coins, heh heh."
In the distance the frogs turned back into goblins and hobgoblins. They were crawling on all fours. Angus threw up.
Scratch sat down across from her, he had decided to try and be friendly with her. "Do you and Y- master Yanis know each other?"
"Oh no, not at all." Lacrima smiled, she was in control and in a good mood, so she let him chat her up. "Despite what you see me as, goblin, I am still a member of the Reddington kingdom. You wouldn't see the likes of a witch like me grace the courts of a dungeon lord. But I know *of* him."
"What do you know?"
This question soured her. "I am not here for your questions. Rather show me how far along my forge is."
He turned and gestured at the mess of scaffolding in the middle of the cave. "We're at the beginning stages."
She strained her eyes to try and see in the deep dark. "It's not done yet? Where are your stone mages?"
"We... have no such thing."
"Meh." She was disappointed.
-
Just then the hobgoblins came running up to the tend, clenching their fist and even showing some magic. "What are you doing here? Get away from him!"
Scratch fearfully gestured at them to stand back and tried to hush them, but Lacrima was amused. "A simple client supplier conference. I am observing the conditions in this dungeon."
"And here I thought the secret was safe." Scratch tut-tutted. "You must have used some magic to discover that this was a dungeon, either that or you're very smart."
The flattery angle seemed to work, because she immediately gave up the information. "Magic? Come now, dearie. Even if such magic existed I wouldn't need it. With my ability to change into an owl I was able to observe every facet of your society. That's how I learned Harkness isn't really in charge, you are, and you wield dark magic. Dark sorcerers care little for gold, so the prize you protect must be a dungeon."
"And now you're taking that prize for yourself. Are you a dark sorcerer then?"
She chuckled. "I know better than to oppose the will of the gods, little one. No, the magic of Guth is enough for the likes of me. Yanis can control the dungeon, as long as I get my steel."
"As I said, we're still far off from operational."
"Very disappointing. I do urge you to pick up the pace. Hence the transformations, the threat, and all that."
"I get the picture. Can I ask you to help us handle a goblin slayer problem?"
She looked down on him with disdain. "You solve your own problems. Even if you have to lock yourself underground with only bats and bugs to eat like your ancestors. All I care for is my steel."
He smiled past the callous words. "That understandable. It's just that it would speed us up quite a bit, which I know you'd prefer, and the magic is so easy to you... so..."
She rolled her eyes as she righted herself. "An enemy like that would be child's play for somebody like Yanis. Ask him to protect his own property if he intends to keep it."
Then she turned into an owl and flew back to the sea, leaving the tarp behind.
Scratch cursed under his breath.
----------------------------------------
Manabelt
Family: Demons
Threat Level: none
Reward: None
Manabelts are demons summoned by dark sorcerers to increase their powers. By attaching a manabelt to their body they can store additional mana, in exchange for their health, as the demon will drink their blood. Over time manabelts will corrupt their hosts' blood, poisoning and killing them, unless the host has absolute control over the demon.
Their appearance is that of a large black leech with a single yellow eye on its back. Being demons, manabelts do not occur in nature, but only as the work of a dark sorcerer. When one is spotted, that is evidence of dark magic, either by the host or using the host as subject.
Manabelts can be hurt by any mundane weaponry, when destroyed they will detach from their host and leave a large opening in the artery, which can cause the user to bleed out. When fighting sorcerers that make use of manabelts, make sure to target it as it is a known weak spot.
Occasionally, monsters that do not possess the ability to use magic on their own, such as orcs, might have a manabelt attached to them. Since the host has no mana pool for the demon to dump its reserves in it must be attached directly to the hand or finger to channel the mana into magic devices. Having such a weak spot in an extremity makes the monster weaker when separated from their magic tools, make sure to disarm it.