The innermost cavern was lit up by a bright white light, revealing the colors and lines of the rock as they had never been before.
The source of the luminescence was a "candlelight" spell by a noble born woman. Lydia Harkness, disgraced knight, stood waist-deep in the middling current, holding a stone-tipped spear. Her magic allowed her human eyes to observe the stuffy depths, better than the make-shift candles ever could.
The bandit leader had descended into the narrow tunnel in order to help her diminutive allies.
The goblins needed the protection of a superior warrior while they secured underwater entrances into the space.
They would have been content doing so on their own, exposing themselves to the predator should it suddenly return, but their mother had commanded them to call in the help of the knight.
In that way, her intuition was stronger than even Scratch's. The goblins had difficulty recognizing danger, Harkness had seen that many times, both with the feral and these house-trained ones. It seemed to her that Barbara, the mother, wasn't as much of a leader as they would like to pretend, but she was definitely an ally to the tribe. She and the other non-bandit woman were both pregnant again, they would almost double the tribe's population in a few days.
-
Planting her feet against the slippery rock, Harkness kept a stalwart stance. Her spear ready for any monster, should it reappear.
At one point she thought she saw something moving and thrust at it, hitting only water. The creature did not appear again, and she was left taking in the construction being done.
The goblins in front of her were Scratch's brothers, Second and Biter. Under this cold white light and their reduced clothing she could see the two had strange scars, covered by an excess of flesh, like tumors. It seemed to her that these things must be a common irregularity in goblin anatomy, she had never studied the species closely before.
Second was the brains, he had brought a small hand-drill to the project, his own invention. The iron head was long and spiral and the handle was bifurcated in diverging grips, allowing them to put in torque with their arms. It wasn't an efficient tools by the standards of society, which would have involved a hand crank, or simply magic, but it was ingenious for a goblin.
Using the crank the two alternated drilling holes in the roof of the tunnel, a few inches upstream from where the river entered the air pocket. Then, hazel wood sticks, penetrated by sharp flint, were inserted into these holes. The sharp stones pointing outwards through the wood towards the unknown.
The tribe had access to a kind of cement but, as Second explained to Biter, in this wet environment the stuff wouldn't dry. Instead, small wooden wedges were inserted with the sticks which would expand due to the humidity and lodge them tighter.
At long last, after half a day of doing this work, they put a heavy log horizontally against the grate, ensuring that any creature making an effort to break it down would have to contend with thee combined strength of all bars simultaneously and the weight of the heavy log.
"Big enough for a cave croc." Harkness ensured them, after she had helped put the massive final piece in place.
"Well we've decided that we won't swim anymore," Second responded, while collapsing on the riverbank, "because we don't know what's in there, though if we did we wouldn't be safe anyway, and-"
Harkness interrupted his rambling sentence simply by climbing out of the water. Her wet clothes clung to her body, revealing the tone of a trained warrior and curvature of a noble-born. The mere silhouette drowned out the more cerebral parts of Second's mind. He pulled in his knees and looked away in shame.
The woman wasn't aware of the inner workings of his mind, and instead noticed the unusually plentiful reserves of mana after maintaining the light spell for so long.
The three then went up to the service, to inform the others of a job well done and to obtain a new set of dry clothes.
----------------------------------------
Lydia Harkness left the cave wearing a drenched shirt and short trousers overneath some cotton underwear, also drenched. The simple clothing she replaced it with covered more of her arms and legs, but was the only fabric between her bare skin and the outside world. Although spring had arrived the midday air still had a chill in its wind and she considered putting on more layers when her attention was caught by a commotion in front of the platform.
Goblins and humans had forgotten their mutual tensions and crowded together in singular focus on one spectacle.
With no particular hurry she walked over the new and only mostly finished road to where the crowd had gathered.
On the ground stood a crudely made crate the goblins used to store arrows, three scraped and bleached human skulls lay on top of it, without lower jaw.
In front of the skulls sat an unknown warrior, he had a mail vest but no weapon, and he was scratching his head.
Behind the skulls sat Scratch, his one eye glistening in glee and showing a grin with holes in it.
Harkness found her subordinate Stanford in the crowd. "Are those human skulls?" She asked.
"I believe so. They do have cups, but they're each rather distinct, so our friend Scratch has re-purposed the remains of adventurers for his game." He looked at her. "It is rather distasteful."
The captured adventurer slumped over in defeat and pointed at one of the skulls at random.
The goblin boss made a "tut-tut" sound and revealed that the selected skull did not hide anything. "Wanna try again?"
"The adventurer is playing for his freedom." Stanford explained. "He keeps giving him more chances."
"How many now?" The bandit leader asked.
"Twelve since I've arrived."
"It's a trick then." At a certain point, randomly guessing would eventually yield the right answer.
-
Scratch revealed the location of the silver coin and began to reshuffle the skulls.
Harkness kept a close eye on his movements. His fingers moved faster than the human eye could follow, like a veteran swindler.
When he was done the three skulls once more stood in a perfect row. He gestured to the containers in an inviting manner.
Among the crowd various goblins began to shout their own answers, at this point convinced the human would never guess it anyway, but not yet understanding that they wouldn't either, for the same reason.
"Left!" "Middle!" "No, left! Definitely left!"
Harkness, having seen through the sleight of hand, walked up to the pair and put her hand against the side of the prisoner's neck. "The coin is under the fourth skull. Would you drag this out forever?"
Scratch stuck out his tongue with a smug "Bleh!" Revealing the silver piece he had hidden in his mouth.
"Cheater!" The man tried to jump up in a fit of rage, but the bandit leader's hand kept him in his place.
"Lydia," Scratch introduced her after putting the currency down, "this is Paulos. He was told to come here by his 'goddess'. He killed the straggler from Strong's tribe. You know Bread? With the tumors."
"I can kill him right now if that's at all convenient."
"Yikes." Scratch turned to Paulos. "Can you believe her? Kill you! Good thing you've got me to stand up for you."
Scratch had cast her in the role of villain, a teasing fiction. "I don't want to see you harvest anymore skulls from the living," she shot back, "the screams are... so annoying."
"You love my screaming." He winked his one eye at her.
"You're going to let me go?" Paulos asked.
"Sure."
"Can I have my sword back?"
"Uh, no."
-
The would-be exterminator was shoved and kicked out of the enclosure.
Some people threw some garbage at him as he scampered off.
"He killed your comrade," Harkness commented to Scratch, "you're not punishing him for that?"
"Why? Would that bring him back? We're no longer keeping ourselves a secret."
"It might give you some peace of mind."
He clicked his tongue. "I dunno. That's not the beast I wanna feed, you know? Not for myself, or for any of the kids."
She couldn't parse his esoteric language, but she decided not to pursue the issue any further. If that was his idea of justice, then so be it.
"Did you help second with the river? You're such a sweetheart."
She blushed slightly. Scratch's grin looked like that of a boy that has just lost his milk teeth and has yet to grow the whole adult set. When he praised her like that she felt self conscious, falling for such charms had taken everything from her before. "As the leader I must secure the safety of my people, or what's left of them."
"Sure, sure, I didn't mean anything by it. I am glad you can get on with Second."
"What have you done to secure the trading route?"
"I'm happy you asked, are you free tomorrow?"
"Why?"
----------------------------------------
Runt folded his arms together. It was early in the morning and cold.
He and eight others had left their sleeping holes under the tree before sunrise and gathered at the edge of the territory. They were about to meet a different tribe.
The sun was coming up, managing to slip in beams of light between the forest trees, when they finally arrived.
Scratch and his brothers arrived with two sleds of spears and shields. With them was a woman, an intimidating looking figure with metal equipment on her body.
"Atten-tion!" Scratch brought his outstretched hand to his brow. "Straighten your backs soldiers!"
Nobody knew what he meant by that, so his command went unfollowed.
Runt's comrades became interested in the cargo, so they lobbied Runt to translate for them. "You give weapons."
"Us give weapons indeed my young friend, but do you know how to use them?"
The tree tribe had weapons, courtesy of the now defunct orcs, but they were monopolized by the high status members of the group, and there were no shields among them. So there hadn't bee much opportunity for practice.
The human woman watched them from a distance as Scratch and Kicker explained some basic techniques and the plan.
-
The sun was well and up when the revolutionaries gathered at one side of the tree.
Their tribe members didn't pay any mind to the familiar faces with the new equipment, they were busy removing the rotten meat from a quickly aging carcass.
Then the cave goblins made a sudden and dramatic entrance.
"Raah! Attack! Attack!" Kicker Roared.
At first the warriors readied their crossbows and axes but they were quickly overwhelmed when the bandit leader decided to help out.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
"Rhada's breath!" She brought he hand to her mouth and spewed forth of a cone of red fire. The pain made even the fearless goblins drop their weapons and run.
Before Nug could come out and see what all the fuss was about, they had entered the hole.
"Here you go Lydia, I know how fond you are of saving captured girls." Scratch commented as he led her down.
The space under the tree roots was wide but with a low ceiling. The earth underneath had been broken up to make it softer. Against the sides lay foodstuffs, a muddy puddle of questionable drinking water and a trio of differently aged redheads, probably sisters, with a gaunt and dehydrated appearance.
While crouching Harkness managed to kick Nug back. Scratch and his brothers took up such a position that the tree goblins could not properly abuse her compromised footing and had to fall back.
"Girls. We're taking you out of here." The bandit stated.
"They broke Maudlin's leg," the youngest proclaimed, "she can't walk."
The sister's leg did have a visible problem with it.
"I'll carry her. Now go."
The captives crawled out of the opening, with Harkness helping one along. She turned to Scratch for a moment and seemed to want to say something, but she didn't.
The cave goblins went through and around the tree, where they drove Nug and his allies into the hands of Runt and his.
It turned into a struggle. Nug was certainly the stronger and more experienced warrior, but the revolutionaries had a tight formation, with their shields all locked against each other. They all focused their spears on the same target, and Nug was killed.
The outsiders simply looked on as Runt picked up Nug's black steel sword and waved it about. He grunted something in orcish and after some back-and-forth the others yielded to him. The battle was over.
-
While the tribe re-organized itself, Harkness conferred with the captives. "Eston is a day's travel to the north, just follow the river. I can escort you to the water, but no further."
"Thank you, thank you!" The sister with the hurt leg tightly hugged the bandit. "Eek!" She exclaimed as she saw Scratch stand just a few feet away.
"Yeah, you're splitting off from the group? I'd say we'll wait for you at home but I don't know what I'll be accused off coming back without you."
"Just a moment." Harkness told the survivors and went up to Scratch to speak to him. She was crouching again to be closer to eye height when conversing with the goblin.
"Did you take me here to free these girls?"
"Honestly? That was just an afterthought. This tribe is right in the middle of our route, you see? We're clearing the way." He put his hands on his hips in pride.
"I'd have brought Huckabee and some guys if I'd known you wanted to extermin-" She stopped herself. "You don't want to exterminate goblins. I apologize."
"Me, I've got nothing against the practice, but emptying the place is just making room for replacements. Ideally, we'd like to control the territory ourselves, but since none of your girls are volunteering we can't spread ourselves that thin."
"So you're leaving them be?"
"A boy called Runt is their new alpha, he knows them, their personalities, connections, ability. It's called a puppet leader, a tried-and-true method from history.
"Do you trust this 'Runt'?"
He scoffed. "I trust him not to betray his self-interest, it's only because of us that he can stay in power. Listen, leave the management to me, it's sort of my specialty."
"Alright then." Despite herself she was suddenly pinching his cheek, he slapped her hand, a bit startled. With an embarrassed look on her face she abruptly stood up and turned around. "It won't be long, I'll be back here and then we can go home together."
-
When Harkness had left with the women Scratch was left having to answer questions from the tree tribe.
He ended up organizing a panel under the tree, only the goblin holding a special branch was allowed to speak, except for Runt, who was their translator.
*Grunt* *Squeel* "You didn't need them anyway, we're sending over someone that can actually take care of you."
*Hiss* "What was that? No, some of us will help build defenses and living arrangements."
*Squeel* "At first, yes, but they'll pick up the language. Or you'll pick up ours."
Then they tried to ask him for specifics, which he couldn't answer, but his brothers filled in some gaps with generalizations. All in all, what they promised were defensive structures, fire, drinking water and traps. This pleased the tree goblins, even those who had not been part of the usurpation.
----------------------------------------
Frank, Booker, Valentine, Reed, Lee and Gerard. These were the names of Brittany's goblin litter. After being pressed to name them she had given the names of men she knew, boys from the village she had grown up in. She had never known them very well, preferring the company of other girls, and now those names would forever be associated with these goblins.
When she had first been captured, months ago, she had been horrified. She had drowned out her fear with bluster and rage, but being captured by goblins was her greatest fear made real. It had been drilled into her as long as she could remember, not to let herself get captured by goblins. She, who fancied herself a warrior, had gotten overconfident and let herself be done in by the weakest among the subhumans. Those captured by goblins suffered humiliation above any possible, not only were they dominated by inferior weak creatures, their very bodies were disgustingly violated and used for breeding.
At first she fought whenever she could, spitting, kicking, biting. But these goblins were patient, they let her tire herself out, screaming at an empty room. After just a week she had been physically and mentally exhausted, even then she held on to her dignity through stubbornly defying their control. But eventually she let them lead her along, her head low in shame. When she did that she started earning back privileges, the ability to feed and wash herself, access to books. The other woman, Barbara, had been grateful company.
Eventually, she had to bear goblin children. These were them, six doughie-eyed small creatures, though growing fast. She recognized something of herself in them, and she knew exactly who the other half came from, Quiet, the cooking goblin. After all these weeks winning more and more of her captors' trust she was now in a position that could almost be called authoritative, she was the mother to these new additions to the tribe, and they did as she said.
Her position was similar to that of Barbara now, a matriarch. Today she had told off Valentine for bothering the bandits and made him apologize. The kids waited on her on and and foot, bringing her food, holding her property and obeying her orders. It had gotten to the point that escape would mean a sacrifice on her part, she didn't know if those six could really understand why she had to go. But this limited power couldn't compare to the freedom and self-respect of living independently.
-
"Gerard. Go light up the fire," she told her youngest, "it's getting chilly."
The little boy nodded and trotted back and forth between the pit and the woodpile to transport firewood.
It was dusk and most daily activities had been halted. Brittany was laying on a fur mat on the ground, next to the fire pit. She was reading an old novel the goblins had stolen from some farm, it was about romance at sea.
When seeing the firewood being piled up, the bandit leader approached the spot, it was slightly out of the way of the bandits' camping grounds.
"Want me to help light it?" She asked.
Brittany pulled the fur a bit closer to herself, she felt self-conscious in the presence of a strong a free woman. "Help yourself." She muttered.
Harkness used magic to ignite the dried logs without the need for kindling. "Wooow." Gerard gasped from next to his mother, much to Brittany's annoyance.
Scratch came peeking out of the cave, he was holding his comically oversized pipe. "Ah, magic. You sure are good with that stuff."
Harkness sat down next to the pyre. "Where did you get fire before us?"
"The usual way," was Scratch's answer, which didn't make any sense, what other way was there to obtain fire other than magic. However, it was expected of Scratch to suddenly stop making sense mid-conversation. He was a monster and his perspective was inhuman.
"What do you mean by that!?" Harkness laughed.
Scratch raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You know, hard work and a lot of patience?" It was futile trying to understand him.
The one-eyed goblin boss sat down with his pipe and lit some moss to light his pipe.
"That's not tobacco, is it?" The bandit leader asked. "What is it you're smoking?"
"Oh, I don't care what," he puffed, "whatever I can get my hands on."
Brittany rolled her eyes.
-
Within a few minutes, more people started to gather around the warmth of the fire. The bandits collecting around Harkness, the goblins around Scratch, forming two sides, with Brittany caught in the middle. Luckily, her own kids and the highly pregnant Barbara gravitated towards her, creating their own little island.
There was a general murmur of conversation going on, but Scratch's voice rose above it when he addressed her."Brit, how would you like your own tribe?"
"You mean-?" The bandit leader asked.
"You and the kids building a home for yourselves, away from us bullies, how does that sound?"
"What are you talking about, what is your plan with me?" As one of the matriarchs she was no longer expected to be meek with him, Brittany could openly question Scratch he would dutifully answer. But it wasn't like he was respectful of her now, the tone was more familial, in a family the tone is consistently informal.
"We've got a a group of lost children that need taken care of. We're putting some people there to learn from. You can teach them how to fight!" He looked proud of himself.
"I don't really have a choice, do I?"
"I suppose you don't."
After that conversation they didn't waste time, the very next day preparations had been made to relocate her.
Scratch had used her going-away party as another opportunity to advertise the matriarch position to female bandits, but they were less receptive than ever.
----------------------------------------
Eventually there did come the day that a foreign smuggler came to the edge of the forest, expecting to be able to sell his goods.
To meet him came twelve bandits, all equipped with weapons and armor, though only Lydia Harkness and Huckabee among them really knew how to use them. Behind them were almost two dozen goblins, hidden between the trees. The smuggler noticed them, but he had stories about the bandits cooperating with a monster tamer.
"You with Harkness?" The man asked, referring to Fyro but not recognizing his cousin.
A simple "Yes" escaped the bandit leader's lips.
"He says the transaction happens here now." The man mentioned with an uncertain tone of voice.
"It does. Show us what you've got."
So he took them through his three wagons of goods, which had been dragged there by a single mule. These were stolen wares, they would have been recognized in their city of origin and had to be sold off somewhere else. Rare monster trophies, powerful weapons, whisk cards, and magical gems, they were all neatly ordered in boxes and racks on the smuggler's small caravan. "By all means," he gestured towards his menagerie, "inspect my wares, as long as you have the money."
For such a fortune the payment could only be made in gold coins, the amount of metal required would become unwieldy otherwise, and the bandits procured a small treasure chest of currency.
"We have someone for that." Harkness stated.
The man was taken aback a bit by the harsh tone of voice. "S-sure."
-
Forward came Barbara, though an outcast in her own guild she went unrecognized by the outsider. She had given birth just a bit more than a week before and it already wasn't noticeable anymore.
Flanked by Huckabee she rifled through the contraband. "Real. Real. Well, it's all real, but... aha," she held the box of magical gems upside down, pouring all of them out, "only the top layer is prime quality. That's the first trick in the smuggler's handbook. You're lieing on your taxation."
The man gritted his teeth, the bandits were supposed to be a bunch of brutes, but this person they'd taken along seemed to be like an experienced thieves' guild member.
"And here, oooooh," she wagged her finger, "this is a unique magical item. It'd be recognized even all the way in Eston, it's hot!"
"You're cheating us." Harkness pressed through her lips.
"It's not that- I- I'll adjust the price."
Huckabee gave the goblin mother a grateful and supportive shoulder pat and the party set out.
-
"How did you know that?" Harkness asked Scratch, who had sat down on the front wagon while she drove the mule.
"Know what?" He asked, while tuning the lute.
"Knew to bring Barbara. That he would try to cheat us."
"It stands to reason, doesn't it? Fyro is losing his grip on you, he'd want to scare you off of doing your own business and strengthen a contact while doing it, that's what I'd have done."
Barbara joined the conversation. "So... Fyro writes a letter to this guy, tells him to sell you snake oil and then burns you when bring it to him? That's devious."
Scratch strummed the lute, "that's the way you do it, money for nothing, chicks for free..." he hummed.
The rest of the journey he continued to make music, the other goblins now marching freely beside the caravan sang along with him.
On their path they passed the territory of other tribes with whom they had strong ties. The members of these families walked out to greet and look out for them as they passed by.
For the bandits this was a surreal experience. The forest they had had to fight before now came to greet them as they passed. "We've joined the side of the monsters." One of the bandits whispered in Huckabee's ear, but it didn't sound all that bitter.
-
When the group arrived at the gully where they were supposed to meet Fyro the goblins had fallen back and retreated into the background again. Barbara had left the group completely, not to be recognized by him.
"You're late." Fyro growled.
"Maybe you're early." Huckabee blurted out, but he had his ribs nudged by his boss.
"Take the contraband and get it over with." She stated.
Fyro chuckled. "Not so fast. I can't be sure you wild men know what you're doing, I'm going to have George here check your registry for me.
George, the sunburnt hick comforting their mule sprung up at the mention of his name. "Yessir, right away. Ma'am...?"
But as he searched, checked, and double-checked, he couldn't find any discrepancies.
"S-sorry sir. It's all appraised correctly. I- They re-evaluated the stock-"
The thief boss looked furious. "Shut up! Give them the damn money."
Some coins were removed from the jute bag to fit the new value of the caravan and the contraband changed hands.
"Oh. And there's one more thing, these are yours."
The two dobermans and the people holding their leashes stepped forward. The dogs were well behaved and completely silent, but the short tanned man grasping at the collar was nervous around the large creatures.
"Five strays. I had to kill the dog guy because of you, so now we're flooded with homeless mutts and we're handing them out to whoever and whatever."
One of the human 'strays' introduced himself. "My name is Aimone, this is Gildo and Audace. We are... exiles, just like you. From the republic."
"I'm putting them all in your care." Fyro concluded. "You'll find a place for them, they know how to fight."
The two groups awkwardly shook hands. "There's a place for everyone in our midst." Harkness stated.
Fyro's eyes narrowed. "Including highly trained monster trainers nobody has ever heard of."
There fell a silence.
"You tell me you and Beatty have founded a permanent settlement."
"We have."
"I would love to meet this person some day."
"Maybe some day you will."
There was palpable tension, one of the dogs started growling at the sensation of hostility. Then the two parties parted, one of them 5 members poorer, the other five members richer.
"What is this settlement of yours called?" Gildo asked.
"That's a good question." Huckabee answered.
----------------------------------------
Enchanting Magic
Enchanting magic is rare, it is not a skill that can be polished by battle. There are no adventurer enchanters, and enchanting magic among nobles (other than for the creation of spellrods) is isolated to a handful of historical cases. Instead, magical items are usually created by non-humans.
The magic techniques used in the creation of enchanted items are passed on by craftsmen as part of their craft. The great elven bowyers possess the secrets to creating spectral arrows, while dwarven smiths have the knowledge to enchant metal equipment. Magical gems are necessary components of enchanted items in all techniques.
The simplest magical item is the infused instrument, such as used by bards. Other than these, magical items are very rarely used by adventurers of rank C or lower.
As many magical items never lose their power or durability over time, the highest quality works throughout history have survived until the current day and are known as unique magical items. An adventurer carrying their own unique magical item will earn great prestige and have a high chance of being called a hero.