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Friendly Neighborhood Necromancer
Chapter 44: Scooping up the Goblins and Smashing them in the Face

Chapter 44: Scooping up the Goblins and Smashing them in the Face

“Khill.”

Walking with Varry, when we passed by a group of goblins it would lift its talons and indicate if they were to be annihilated. In my hands I held a shortsword without defects, but still not of any quality. Characters of games past tried to replay their movements, and I did my best to recall them. With training-dummy level opponents, it was best to try and raise all my weapon skills to novice on them. My V. Rusty skills gradually came back to me with many changes that needed to be made. Well, might as well enjoy the corpses at least.

Varry and I tore up the competition together; not through teamwork so much as staying out of the other’s way and overwhelming the smaller goblins. Strangely enough, I noticed that for some of its attackers, it merely disabled them. Most likely a death sentence, but a chance for life, that seemed familiar. These weren't in the majority though, Varry enjoyed taking a few bites out of every third opponent or so. It seemed to help revitalize it, like some sort of cheap vampire.

A couple battles on, and we spotted a duo of variants. Not looking quite as fearsome as Varry, or Vamp, since more variants arrived, they looked more humanoid. Smoother and less misshapen features, taller, they weren't sporting a Gollum hairstyle, and better looking in general. Still ugly, a goblin’s a goblin.

Vamp began speaking in a harsh warble to the other two. One with lengthy silver hair looked at it and squawked back, coming to an understanding before addressing me.

“Ychk knows language best. He speaks best. Follow, help kill traitors. Good-dead.” Silver looked around with its eyes closed, placing a hand on the tree. Opening them, it gestured with its spear. “Go.” It said for my benefit, and the four of us set out.

Spear, claws, and a glaive in the hands of the one with a scar across its eye, they acted with great teamwork. The fighting hadn't exactly settled, so much as become more ordered. Having drawn in all the goblins in earshot, with no new fighters jumping in from the sidelines, the factions were formed, and the lines were being drawn. Groups went longer without encounters, but the conflicts were larger. We aimed for smaller groups, but still cut down dozens at a time.

As we barreled through the inferior greenskins, I let out a bark of laughter. Switching up weapons in an instant to suit the situation, I tried to match up with the speed of the other three combined. A stab, a slice, a smash; we raced one another for the next kill.

I found it slightly amusing that my first party in the world was composed of goblin variants. Trolls fit right in with goblins, don't they? 

We picked up a wolfish fellow on our way, making it to a variant horde with few scratches. Most were looking at me curiously, which I paid no mind to. Instead it was more interesting to look at the dozens of different variants gathered together. As Ychk came out, there wasn't time to get a good look at most. 

“Greetings human. You have come to kill goblins. There are traitors, help us kill them and many good-dead will be to you.” Ychk’s voice and appearance matched a human’s almost exactly, with only slightly olive skin, and a hint of pointed and crookedness on his teeth and ears. 

“Why is it you goblins fight? I come from a village to the south, I will not let any goblins fight there.” A bit interested in whatever the fracas was, priorities needed to be taken into account. Of the at least four factions noted, at least one would be able to be convinced to leave the village alone. Depending on why they fought, it might be possible to sway them…

“We fight for Chikan.” I...I think I may have lost a few years of my life when the goblin said that. However I contained myself admirably, and Ychk didn't notice anything and continued. “Khtraal, Longhand, is chief of Oirk. He orders chikans dead. Uhkhjk, Gutbreath, hates Kh—Longhand. Longhand is raal; some Longhand like, some Longhand hate. Iyrkraal, Weaponhand, is our chief. We want to keep Weaponhand as chief of Oirk.”

What a relief. If chickens were really the main source of conflicts between goblins, I wouldn't know what to do. Good thing it's just an insurrection. 

The details were sketchy, and not all of it translated well. At least the variant group, or Iyrkraal were backing an already established power. Longhand probably had the pull to keep the village from being wrapped up in things, if the request could be made of him. Unfortunately he wasn't a very loved ruler as a raal. Seeing as that meant hand, I went out on a limb and figured it referred to the grasper type goblins.

“If Khertraal and Earykraal do not attack the village, then I will give as much aid as I am able.” I tried pronouncing the names of the leaders in goblin, but my throat didn't recognize the sounds. Ychk and the others behind him looked amused at the attempt.

“Then we go to battle. Gutbreath are that way. Go with him and kill at the same time we do.” Ychk indicated Vamp to be my companion. Goblins too low in the rankings didn't have personal names, they were just part of their leader. Or maybe those were just uninspired clan names of a sort. It didn't really matter.

“Hyumran, let's go. Khill Uhkhjk.” Vamp looked at me, teeth gleaming white, having been kicked clean.

“Let’s go kill some Uhkhjk!” He laughed with his strange hoarse voice, and we ran through the forest.

We moved faster than with Silver and Scar. On top of the fact they simply weren't as quick as myself or Vamp, the final exchange of this battle looked like it was about to take place. Instead of the loose squads of the past days, more organized patrols roamed about in formation. Defensive goblins, distance goblins, and unarmed goblins roamed in squads of five. Slowly rotating around their routes, they scouted for departing contingents to report.

It may sound like the ones in charge of the factions were strategists, but in reality the armies were moving towards each other like tectonic plates. They just wanted a slight heads up if someone was trying to move around behind them before all hell broke loose. I don't know how Vamp identified them, but we charged into a patrol and wiped it clean, while avoiding others.

We reached the back of the group established as our target, about 50m back. The goblin platoon couldn't be seen from our position, but they could be heard chattering, orders being barked about. Goblins got pretty loud about this sort of stuff, but it didn't really matter if they were overheard. As I quickly discovered a goblin battle consisted of two forces smooshing into each other. Sneak attacks and flanks were pretty much the pinnacle of tactics without a chief. They were a surprisingly hivemind-esque society.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Vamp and I didn't have to wait long before hearing the roar of goblins charging into combat. Smoosh time.

As much as a grand battle between two forces sounds, with goblins viciously fighting for their tribes, letting their primal instincts loose to tear into the enemy; that would be a misrepresentation. Altogether lacking in any sort of tactics, the scene quickly devolved into a mass of embarrassing resistance against the oncoming Iyrkraal.

The Uhkhjk had an even smaller proportion of raal than normal, and at least half the Iyrkraal were variants. Though they were more numerous by several times, without a good grip, they were constantly losing their weapons. While they had class and teeth, it wasn't at Vamp’s level. Without a bit of affinity, it like water washing over a rock.

That said, the Iyrkraal were a stone thrown into a pond. Between two or three dozen, they faced a force of over a few hundred. Smarter and stronger, it wasn't as to the extent the could take down four or five each. Through the battlefield it could be seen that Silver and Scar were worth three of their fellows, and Vamp worth more than those two together.

Even elites were still goblins.

Unchallenged, I took out the banded iron club. Without time to pick up corpses, scavenging could be saved for later. Then I could pick from all the kills, so the state of my own didn't matter. Vamp and I savaged the back lines of the Uhkhjk. Standard goblins were simple, and swarmed towards the three locations: myself, Vamp, and the main Iyrkraal force.

As an organic reflex of the horde, there were naturally weak spots. If they acted orderly, we could only run away; but as things were Vamp and I identified weak points and continually cut through. Ychk commanded the variants, and being of slightly higher intelligence than their base kin stayed in a formation. It was rough, and they inevitably suffered losses, but with the Uhkhjk attention divided they persevered.

Even without buffs or crowd control or any incredible ability whatsoever, Vamp and I were the high level MVPs of this guild war. Creating insatiable aggro, the paper-like resistance tore layer by layer, until the Uhkhjk were routed.

A few fleeing forms were cut down if close, but for the most part Ychk let them go. Vamp and I chased a few, laughing together. His pale skin and ragged loincloth dripped blood, and my trousers did as well. Not wanting my clothes to be ripped, I removed my shirt some time ago. Shaking like dogs, we spattered much of the blood off of ourselves. Vamp picked up a bite, and I tossed some more materials into my Inventory as we headed back to talk to the commander.

“AHahHAha, the blood of the Uhkhjk quenches the soil and pools at our feet. Before me there are no opposers, only the dead of present and future! Tell this Khtraal and Iyrkraal if they oppose the village, the bodies will be more numerous than today. When cut, I bleed, but do not die!” Arrogantly striding before Ychk, there were a few residual effects of leveling up. The battle had gone on about an hour, so I had plenty of time to vent, but the constant flow of experience kept some of that domineering feeling around. 

Due to Ychk limited Derrish, he seemed to miss most of it though. Most of it was just whimsical posturing.

“You are strong. You are stronger than him, and maybe me. Khtraal would say you are strong. I will tell Khtraal about the village, you are worthy of a name. What is it?” My actions warranted a name, what an achievement. Considering the only goblins that had names were commanders, that meant it was a considerable gesture of respect. I thought about using a pseudonym to keep from being associated, but it would be better if they and the villagers both knew the same name. If you can communicate, there can be peaceful resolution, and my name should form a possible link between them.

“I am known as Alric.”

“Alric, take as much good-dead you can. Eat your fill, have many Alric. If you meet Iyrkraal, you will be known.” Offered that battlefield, I started to help myself. With more than enough choice, since the goblins seemed to value the corpses as well, I acted a little picky. Within Inventory, the amount of bodies grew, and gave off the sense of a bit over a hundred between the different categories. Hohoho~ I would be in for a lot of fun in the future, wouldn't I?

Moving corpses isn't dreary work; but I did stop for a moment to take a break, stretching my back out. Variants hunched over the bodies like flies, in a quite literal sense. Apparently Vamp wasn't the only one of his kind to enjoy eating the flesh of the dead. The others lacked the pale ghoulish appearance of Vamp, but still worked on eating a body at a time, using tools if their own hands and teeth were insufficient. When they spotted me quickly heaving the fallen into my Inventory, I spotted some looks of jealousy.

Hey, you guys can't eat all of this, you'll let it go to waste.

So I thought, but as time passed, they continued moving on as I was. Steadily, the bodies were vanishing for the most part. Some flesh was left along with the bones, and the upper viscera didn't seem to be a very popular part to eat either. 

Well, Vamp was a scavenger among scavengers. He’d eat his favorite part(the head) from each body, but if someone left a partially eaten corpse with the lungs and heart exposed, he'd tear open the ribs to get at it. A few goopy strands of innards ended up clinging to Vamp, maybe he should get a bib.

Soon the patch of forest was picked clean, weapons were being rounded up, and the variants began looking tired and sated. It was getting to be late afternoon too, I really spent a long time in the forest. Settling on going back, I tossed a head to Vamp as a farewell gift. 

Strangely, he in turn pulled one of his innumerable black teeth out and tossed it to me. It may have been covered in thick black blood, but for that reason I didn't just take it as a simple gesture. Having said my goodbye, I waved to Silver and Scar before heading back to the village.

Disappearing from their sight, with a and , I put my shirt back on. I wondered if any of the Poran made it back to the village.

A/N:AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

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