It had been three summers since Horns had taken over the tribe. Twelve since Scream had been born. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had had to spend a winter's night outside.
When Horns had taken over he had been dissatisfied. He had managed to survive by staying in the background and not speaking up, but in his heart he had felt hatred towards the new bigger goblins for replacing them. However, now Scream longed to return to that time of safety and warmth.
After Drool had returned and killed Horns he hadn't stayed to take back the tribe. He probably didn't have enough sons to take over rulership, so he had settled for simply destroying it. Even Scream had understood the situation to that level.
Without the women there was no future. Every day wolves and bears would saunter past the walls, attracted by the smell of blood, and if they would not kill goblins then thy would at least steal their food. There was no way to replenish those numbers and build up replacement defenders after the big goblins had been killed. Eventually they had given up and ventured towards the territory of fear that Drool's group lived in, to escape the predators.
There were eight of them:
Scream
Laugh
Kicker
Scratch
Last
Another Last
Growler
And Small.
All of them were of an age comparable to Scream, except for the younger Last, who had only seen one summer.
None of them had been afraid of Drool's gang. It wasn't typical for goblins to know fear until death had its icy claws firmly around their neck. However, if they had predicted the snowfall and drop in temperature they might have reconsidered leaving the relative shelter of their old home's delapidated human houses.
The night was overcast, so dark that even goblins notice it. Most of the refugee pack had lost hope, to the point that they weren't even complaining anymore. Their hands were cold and numb, their feet were too but also cut and bleeding from the unfriendly forest floor. It was hard to keep moving when the icy wind made them shiver even under their loincloths and their day-old hunger sapped their strength. Still, by Screams insistance they kept dragging themselves forward, until they'd stumble upon some sort of miracle that could save them.
Kicker and Scratch, both named by comepletely different fathers at completely different times, for attacking them during birth, where giving support to Laugh, who had hurt himself fending off a furry animal.
The two Lasts were together. The older one looking out for the second one. They stayed by each other's side so there wouldn't be any confusion when anyone called their name.
Small would stick by Scream's side in the front and Growler would stay in the back, as rearguard but also to be away from the others.
Eventually they just collapsed. When Kicker ran out of energy and fell to the ground the others were reminded of their own fatigue and sat down too.
"We... die?" The younger Last asked.
"Yes." Scream said, too tired and cold to even feel despair.
Nobody talked after that, they sat in the snow and let their bodies become numb and unresponsive.
Scream thought about how there would be nobody left that knew who he was, and how he might as well have never existed. He looked at Small, who was already losing consciousness while clinging to his arm and closed his eyes to let death take him.
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Scratch whistled a tune as he led his compatriots through the snow.
Nobody else was in a particularly good mood. It was cold, they had only just woken up and the novelty of handling wood had worn off the day before.
First had send Yeller in his place and Yeller had a terrible time waking up, he was basically sleepwalking and had to be led by the hand by Fat.
When they arrived at the half-carved tree they were greeted by a thick layer of snow covering their equipment and more than half a dozen frozen goblins huddling away from the substance underneath the lumber.
"W-what!?" Yeller yelled, instantly awake.
Scratch ignored the immobile goblins and went on to brush away the snow with his sleeve. "I think we can just continue hewing, the snow shouldn't get in the way much."
"And the outsiders?" Fat asked.
"Hhm? Oh, two to three hours I'd say." Was Scratch's answer.
"Until they die, is what he's saying." Dumb explained, his eyes narrowed at the leader's back.
"Scratch, we can't ignore this." Yeller pleaded as he draped his own cloak over two goblins huddled together.
"I think it's pretty easy to ignore it actually. It seems to me they're dieing a peaceful death."
"These are our enemies you know, they're part of Horn's group." Dumb added to that.
"Fat, you're with me on this aren't you?" Yeller said. "We need to help them."
"And then what?" Scratch said, annoyed. "Take them in? We barely have enough food for ourselves."
"We can handle them one night, until they can move again."
"The last time outsiders found out where we lived we had to fight for our lives and two of us died!" Dumb yelled angrily.
"I... uhm, I..." Fat stammered, trying to get a word in edge-wise between the arguing brothers.
"Yes. Fat." Scratch declared. "What were you going to say?"
"I think we should help them... please."
Scratch thought about it and then said "Fine. Since Fat never makes any requests and always eats his vegetables we'll do what he wants this time."
Yeller exhaled in relief, Dumb rolled his eyes.
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"Are you ready?" He asked his partner in crime while adjusting his tie.
"I mean, sure? Is it really such a big deal? So Frankie becomes a partner, so what?" She was checking his make-up in the hallway mirror.
"It's a big deal making partner you know. It means you're part of the family. You and me, we're just employees, after tonight, Frankie's a member. It's a big event."
"Yo, hold up. We're not members of the Syndicate?"
He gave her a theatrical sigh to tease her.
She gave him a playful jab. "No, but really, we're not?"
"Being a member is not nothing, members are protected. Say somebody kills a partner, the Syndicate would string 'em up on the public square, along with all their family. So nobody dares, see? One of us dies, they shrug."
"I get it... we're second class. They have an excuse not to look out for ninety percent of their people."
"Go anywhere in the world and it's the same. There's the core organization, the family, and all the rest, the outsiders. It's basic gang infrastructure, I should get you an org chart sometime."
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Scream was vaguely aware of the piece of cloth over his shoulders, but he didn't realize he was getting warmer until much later.
His eyelids let through an orange flickering and he opened his eyes to stare into a blazing fire, he fell backwards in shock, dragging Small with him.
All around him mocking laughter erupted.
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
The fire, the flat stone underneath him, the strange speech with too many words. This could only be the work of humans.
He checked if he hadn't hurt Small and then looked up to address those around him.
He still wasn't sure they weren't human. Their skin was green and their stature small, but they were clad in leather and fur and working various tools in the square around him. They all seemed like newborn, clean and healthy, showing wide smiles of barely browned teeth.
Scream was to dumbfounded by the bizarre sight to speak, so one of the clothed goblins spoke first.
"You were lucky our brother took pity on you. I'd have killed you."
"You... Drool's sons?" Scream managed to get out.
"My name is First." The goblin said, nor answering the question. Then, when another goblin handed Scream some sort of earthenware cup with water, First continued. "Drink up. It's best to warm up from the inside. Right, Quiet?"
The goblin that had handed the water nodded and answered imperceptably softly.
Scream tried to pour the warm water into Small's mouth.
"We'll see how many of you wake up." First said. The various furs around the hearth were the bodies of his fellow refugees. All of them were accounted for.
Laugh and Scratch, Kicker and Growler, the two Lasts. Even in the flickering unfamiliar shadow of artificial fire he could make them out by their size and the backs of their heads.
Not just his body was thawing, his emotions became fluid and poured out of his eyes in the form of tears.
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"Almost there, Dumb." Scratch encouraged his brother.
They were laying their hands on the last planks, shaving off the frayed edges to make it smooth. It had been an ordeal but the results were plentiful, more planks than the kids could carry by hand. It made sense, it had been an entire tree beforehand. Yeller and Fat had already gone ahead to drag the previous finished products back to the cave one a sled of rope they sometimes used for gathering branches.
"Do you even care?" Dumb said, not looking up from his work.
"Hm?"
"About the outsiders."
"Caring too much is bad for your immune system Dumb. The new kids are a good distraction for First and the others."
"A distraction... Jeez."
Dumb had only heard that word in the context of distracting the enemy in a fight before. He wondered if Scratch was planning to surprise them with something while their backs were turned.
"I say it's about finished. How about you and I go back home and receive our thanks?"
"Thanks for what? Flat wood?"
"You're always so critical of me. How about you wait and I'll show it off? No, better yet, devote your time during our way back on thinking over uses for planks."
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Instead of planks the topic of the day were the six surviving outsiders.
Apparently one of them was also called Scratch, which was just so hilarious to Yeller that he had to mention it to everybody.
"Scratch, hey. Hey, Scratch."
"Kind of busy carrying stuff here, Yeller."
"Guess what that guy's name is."
Scratch took a disinterested look at the shivering goblin being cared for by Quiet and watched over by Teeth.
"James Earl Jones."
"What?" Naturally, the joke didn't land.
"I give up, what is it." Scratch said as he and Dumb placed the planks with the others, not too close to the fire, but not too far either.
"It's Scratch too!"
"Wow. That's amazing." Scratch said completely unamazed.
"Hey Dumb, guess-"
"I was here when you said it to Scratch. I heard it."
Yeller and Second quickly filled in the last two siblings on the outsider situation.
The first one to awaken had been named Growler. He was a stoic loner type that didn't ask about the well-being of his fellow refugees. First was suspicious of his character and had asked Yeller to keep watch over him.
"I am still watching him. Just. You know, out of the corner of my eye. He's right there, away from anyone else. Now, Scream, Scream woke up next-"
Scream was the unofficial leader of the group. He was the best talker and the others would look to him before responding to any questions. He was cradling Small, a shorter, shy goblin that had woken up but hadn't said much. The assumption was that he was defective in some way, but it went unspoken.
There was another Kicker here too, but apparently that wasn't as funny to Yeller, who interacted more with the older generation anyway. That Kicker was consoling a goblin called Last, while the other Scratch had just woken up and sat alone.
There were two dead. In life they had been called Laugh and Last. The first one had already been injured by a fight with some animal and the second one had protected his younger namesake from the coldest winds by shielding him with his own body. Apparently the surviving Last was supposed to be very young, that is what Second had understood from Scream.
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"Well then, we can't keep that fire going forever. Time to get to work guys." Scratch cut off the story.
"I thought you said this wood wasn't for the fire?" Said Fat.
"I did. Kick and Biter can use these leaves to varnish the planks with that tar I prepared."
Scratch was going great lengths now not to explain what he was trying to do until they got to see the results.
He quickly decided on the following taskforces;
Security: First, Teeth and Yeller were by the outsiders to keep watch over them.
Material preparation: Kicker and Biter were in charge of coating the planks in tar and ash, preventing future rot.
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Site preparation: Fat and Dumb were led by Scratch in making adjustments to the living area of the cave.
Special: Second had become adept at developing finer tools, so he was put in charge of Scratch's special project involving wood ash and water.
Quiet had to take over for regular household tasks during all this, like skinning, butchering and cleaning.
The sun was about to set and the bonfire about to go out when Scratch was finally happy with the preparations.
"Could somebody retrieve the bricks? We're going to put in the foundation now." He announced.
The aim of the plan was becoming clear.
In the holes they drilled in the cave wooden beams could be inserted, the so-called 'foundation' of the project.
If the planks were to be affixed to these to form flooring and walls, a structure not unlike the interior of a human house would be the result. Something that can keep the warmth inside on a cold winter's night.
The outsiders looked on in amazement as beneath the ash of the fire that saved them fired clay bricks were retrieved by the material preparation taskforce.
The first row of bricks in front of the cave were lain in a trench chiseled out by the site preparation taskforce. On top of that they smeared the special mixture prepared by Second as the special taskforce. The wood ash had worked as a binding agent and held together ground up rock, it would attach two bricks together and become hard as stone when dried. It was cement.
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Building a wall and laying a floor would be a labour-intensive task, so Scratch recruited everybody into the newly christened Home renovation taskforce.
"What if Scream or Growler does something?" Teeth said with genuine trepedation.
"You can watch over them while they work, I'm getting them in on this." Scratch said resolutely, although he had only just decided it. "Hey you!"
"Us?" Scream said. He had heard his name but the cave goblins spoke too fast with too many words for Scream to properly make out.
"Yeah, all of you. Time to earn your keep, go help Kicker and Biter with their planks."
Although still hurt in places from frostbite and blisters the surviving outsiders were completely capable of moving around right now. It didn't take much convincing from Scream for them to join in and follow Scratch's orders. Even Growler, who didn't trust them, still understood that it was better to do what their captor told them to.
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And so it came to be that by the time everybody got hungry the home was almost completely done.
In front of the cave now stood a red brick wall, the bricks were different sizes and shifted around when the cement still wasn't dry and the thing had to be held upright by two wooden supports. In the middle was a small door opening with an arched support above and some metal to protect against collapse.
The inside was smaller now, with a crawlspace behind the planks, which where affixed to wooden foundations that had been driven into the cave wall.
They hadn't used nails but wooden wedges, when hammered into a narrow hole these objects would become wedged tighter and tighter until they were as secure as any nail. They used them to secure the planks and in various places they stuck out of the wall inelegantly.
All in all it wasn't a clean and straight house, but it was safe and served its function.
Quiet had left the construction a bit earlier to start cooking and Fat had jumped at the opportunity to leave too by offerring to help.
They had had to cut into the reserves in order to prepare enough for this new, bigger group.
"Will it be alright, the food?" Fat wondered, remembering that he had been the one that had gotten the outsiders in.
Quiet answered, very softly as always. "It will be alright for now. For tomorrow, we will make a new plan."
The meal of the day was a thin soup of minnow and wild cabbage.
There was still one corner of the room that hadn't been walled up and Second couldn't bear to stop working until that eyesore was fixed. Everybody else was fine taking a break and eating.
"Second. Stop." Quiet said, his voice not audable above the banging of Second's hammer against the wedge.
"Your food is going to be gone." First said.
"As the leader, I command you to stop and enjoy a meal with our guests." Scratch said, waving the knife of authority around.
Their protest left him with no recourse but to comply and eat his meal.
"it's all right, you can eat." Scratch said to Scream and Small, who were sitting in the same circle as him.
Because of the sheer number of goblins occupying the now smaller cave interior (with the outsiders they were 16) there wasn't room to make a single big circle, so they split up into various small cliques.
"Here everybody eats at the same time." Yeller added to that, remembering Drool's insistance on showing the pecking order this way.
Timidly the two outsiders began to slurp the soup out of their crockery bowls. They had gone a long time without a proper meal so once they got a taste they downed the liquid greedily and emptied their bowls within a few heartbeats.
"You the leader?" Small asked Scratch, after catching his breath.
"Sssh!" Scream reprimanded him for asking questions.
"You're asking whether or not I AM the leader? Well I am, and this proves it." Scratch said carelessly and dangerously waving the dagger around.
"Scratch. Wasn't that a secret?" Yeller said, referring to Drool's death.
"Eh, I don't see why it makes a difference. Besides..." He turned to Scream and Small. "Your group has been disbanded hasn't it?"
Scream looked down into his empty bowl. "No more women. Goblins go away."
"Hmm. That's interesting. Yeller. Can you make out what he's saying?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Yeller smacked, a fish tail coming out of his mouth as he talked. "Without a mother the group couldn't survive."
"It wasn't obvious to me, so I'm glad I have you as a translator."
"Thank you."
"Because you're fluent in simpleton."
"... Well. I don't know what that means so you can't insult me with that."
"Hey. Hey!" Small was trying to get Scratch's attention. "Where your woman?"
Scream stiffened.
"Trying to get our secrets, are you?" Scratch said teasingly.
"H-he not planning anything." Scream said quickly. "He... Drool's..."
"Where your woman?" Small insisted.
"Anybody up for seconds? There's probably still some in the bowl." Scratch said, turning around and gesturing towards Quiet.
Quiet gestured back that if he wanted more he should come get it himself so he got up and left.
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"But who is the best at it?" First teased.
Both Kickers stood up immediately to show off their kicking strength.
"Hey. HEY! Not here!" Scratch said when they almost knocked him over in their sparring as he walked by. "Go do that outside."
This left only First, Teeth and Last at the old moss throne together.
Last gulped, he felt the eyes of Growler, who was standing by himself in a corner and had barely touched his food, pranging in his neck.
"You're enjoying that soup?" First asked, now that he had the youngest of the outsiders alone.
"Y-yeh." Last tried to smile.
"We had to work hard for that food you know?"
"Yeah. We did." Teeth added, to have said something.
Last looked down.
"There's not a lot of food around now that it's getting cold, you know?"
"Yeah. Yeah." Teeth agreed again.
"You should know some others that have food, some other place."
"Uh..." Last was apprehensive. He had following every instruction of his older name-mate up till now and didn't know what and what he wasn't supposed to share.
"Nobody will mind." First said.
"You should repay us." Teeth insisted.
"Ugh" Last tucked into a ball and covered his face with his knees.
"Do what we tell-" Teeth was about to raise his voice and grab the outsider but First pulled him back just in time.
"You don't want us to starve because of you, do you?"
Last stayed silent.
"If you're helpful, Scratch might let you stay."
This last comment peeked his interest and he shyly looked upwards from between his knees.
"Stay?"
"Maybe. If you can help us."
The exchange of information was interrupted by commotion coming from Small and Yeller.
They were arguing about a woman, or women, and Growler quickly joined in to make it a cacaphony of three children talking over each other.
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"You know. You wanted them here." Scratch said to Second who was sittting near the pot alongside Quiet.
Fat didn't want to argue with him so he just avoided eye contact.
"I suppose as the leader I should go back and pull them apart, shouldn't I?"
Quiet nodded.
"I was afraid of that."
"Scratch is leader?" Said the outsiders' Scratch, who was also there, as he left.
"Eh..." Said Second, mimicking a shaky handmotion Scratch sometimes made to indicate a lack of complete confidence in a statement.
"Eh?" The two-eyed Scratch questioned, mimicking the motion unsurely.
"Not like Drool was a leader. Drool would... Drool would just want us to get him things."
"Yes." The other Scratch nodded, with a nostalgic look on his face.
"You knew him?"
"Drool was leader of us before."
Quiet whispered to Second. "Drool was chased out by Horns, but he kept the leader's knife. He was their leader once."
Two-eyed Scratch thumped his chest. "Drool make me. Give me name."
"Did you like him?"
"He was boss."
"I see."
So that's the extend of their bond, then. Second thought.
But two-eyed Scratch looked at him very seriously. "Boss is strongest, Boss get stuff. That what make him boss."
"In that case, I suppose Scratch isn't our leader. He only wants what's best for us. I think." He smiled. "I think that's much better than having a boss."
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"What's with the commotion over here?" Scratch said in an authorative tone of voice after handing Small a half-filled bowl of wet cabbage.
"Com-motion?" Small cocked his head at the word.
"It not true." Growler growled. "You hiding them."
Yeller tried to explain "I told Small we didn't have his... uh"
"Mother?" Scratch suggested.
"Anyway she died and we haven't had any women since."
"No woman no group." Growler spat into Scratch's face, bringing his face close to his, the rankness of years of substandard dental care eminating out of his mouth. "Goblins die. No new goblins. No more fighting."
"Okay, first off..." Scratch put one hand against the wild goblin's bare chest and showed his knife with his other hand. "Personal space. One step back. At least."
Only when Growler begrudgingly obeyed did he continue.
He spread his arms and adressed the whole room. "If you don't believe it, don't believe it. I don't care. But any more aggression and you're going to have to find another hotel. I hope that's clear."
"You know..." Yeller said to Growler, when things had calmed down. "We're different. We're the goblins that don't die."
"Speaking off..." The leader proclaimed, his mood suddenly switching. "If you're all finished. I think it's time to clean up."
By now the cave goblins had gotten so used to Scratch's hygiene standard that they had stopped thinking about it as a special ritual.
However, the outsider goblins were all baffled by the process.
First they scrubbed their teeth using frayed twigs and drinkable water, removing foodrests and invisible impurity.
After the commotion of earlier Scream had tried to participate in the ritual but touching his browned teeth this way was rather painful to him. Only Last of the outsiders was able to brush his teeth without causing agony. Growler hadn't tried in the first place.
Then they washed their hair and bodies. The slightly less purified water was used for this and they were told that earlier in the year they would do it in the river. This conversational topic led into the relatively youth of the cave goblins.
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Freshly scrubbed and cleaned the goblins were ready to crawl under the sheets.
In the previous days they'd gotten used to bundling up, shivering, under the same pile of hides.
However, the renovation of their home was nearly completed. There was still an unfinished corner from which cold air could invade but the facade in front was finished, it had a thick boar's hide covering the entrance and a place for a fire to be made and from where smoke could escape from through a brick tube, or chimney. So the home was comfortably warm.
As such the goblins could sleeps a comfortable distance away from each other. And that they did. The house floor was a chaotic mess of randomly spread out goblin bodies.
Scratch didn't spend much time thinking about living arrangements and procuring food. They had managed so far and his plan wasn't to keep the guests around forever, after the night was over they would be send on their way, loincloth and all. So he simply let his mind go blank and drifted into sleep.
However, Second wasn't on board with his plan to get a good night's rest. In the middle of the night he poked and badgered his elder brother to get him to wake up.
"Scratch. Hey, Scratch... Scratch." He whispered.
Scratch held still as if it hadn't worked, hoping the boy would give up and go to sleep.
"Hey. Scratch. Scratch, hey. Wake up!"
"Aagh! What?" He sat up straight angrily.
"They're gone."
"What?" He was tired and didn't want to spend energy thinking about what Second could be referring to. "What's gone?"
"First and the others. They left."
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Banditry
Two of the types of missions adventurers can take are a bounty hunt or a bandit suppression. Both deal with those engaged in banditry. Bandits are outlaws that attack law-abiding farmers and merchants for their goods and money. They can form bandit camps in the untamed wilds to escape justice and band together, except in an emergency it is usually the military, and not adventurers, that takes care of these camps.
Rarely a mission may involve bringing back a bandit alive for information-gathering reasons, but generally bandits are preferred dead.
Because bandits tend to be normal humans they are considered Threat Level E by the adventurer's guild. However, sometimes criminal adventurers or corrupt nobles that have been stripped of their title will make a name for themselves as bandits. In that case their threat level is set appropiatedly. Usually according to their previous adventurer's rank or title.