A goblin stumbled his way down the mountainside as he avoided the normal path. Chief would be after him eventually, assuming that he could ever get the goblins under control. That was not a small assumption considering the average level and capability of their encampment. Regardless, he needed to get as far away as possible before Chief inevitably came after him. Though ideally he’d escape Chief while also avoiding dying to some predator in the woods.

Some loud animal noises caused him to skirt further away from the trees he’d been subconsciously getting closer to. Cover was appealing to a goblin, especially when they found themselves under the overbearing sun, but not being eaten was more appealing still. Infinitely appealing, one might say.

No one wanted to be eaten, Chief thought, looking back at the forest as an idea came to him suddenly. But then again, if they’re going to chase me anyway, I might as well set a trap.

Chef walked into the forest, no longer bothering to hide his tracks. He ran around, grabbing, sniffing, and even licking different berries and mushrooms as he went, skirting away from any sufficiently large noises. He found what he was looking for and willed himself to ignore his hunger.

Yes, this will do. There will be plenty to eat later. I’d hate to spoil my appetite, he cackled to himself as he continued to prepare his cooking station.

Next was to look through his bag and check his stock while he got the fire going. No, wait next was firewood. You can’t cook without a cooking fire. How did he always forget that?

Annoyed, he grabbed his pile of stuff after throwing his bag onto his back, and continued his search. By the time he found enough kindling and wood for a halfway decent fire, he’d made some new friends.

“Shoo!” He yelled at the wolves cautiously observing him. They were sizable, but he could Intuit that they were a fair bit weaker than him. It was likely that they knew the same. Of course they did; that’s why they’re waiting for backup.

But Chef simply ignored them as he pulled flint and a small pot from his bag, sitting on the cool ground while comfortably in the shade. The trees were kind enough to block some of that stupid sunlight. Stupid sun.

The leaves finally caught flame as Chef moved to migrate the fire to the longer-lived sticks and wood he had piled up. Even still, he knew this fire wouldn’t last terribly long. But that would be just fine. It just had to be enough to cook up a little surprise.

He threw into the pot some of the berries and mushrooms that he had recognized by taste earlier. He dove back into his bag, removing a few more ingredients and spices along with most of his precious jerky. He added a dash of seasoning here and there, a smattering of delicious liquids once or twice, and maybe just a little bit of dark green liquid in a vial towards the end. All the while he was stirring his concoction with his most trusted big wooden spoon. He had to destroy the other one last week. It committed treason.

“But you won’t, will you? No, no, you know better. You saw what happens to treasonous spoons.”

He caressed the spoon, lovingly like a father would to a son they were plotting against. Presumably at least. Chef had no son so he couldn’t know. But the spoon would understand regardless, and it would obey.

He continued to stir as the spoon followed his orders. This had to be made just right. Well, that or he would just escape and be disappointed. But no, this was do or die. Well, do or die or just leave. Regardless, Chef was taking this seriously. His masterpiece of cooking, a potent green goop, was coming along nicely as a powerful aroma filled the small clearing and smoke pooled under the leaves overhead.

The wolves were visibly salivating. The perfect test subject for the final stage.

He tore off a part of a ration, dipping it into the powerful green goop which left it warm and still mostly brownish. Cooked meat would often be fairly unappealing to a creature like this, but the goop did what goop does best. Tossing the fleck of food over towards the group, he watched as one cautiously, but inevitably, ate it up.

Nothing spectacular happened as it salivated even more, snipping at the other wolves that came close to the spot where the ration piece had been sitting before.

Perfect.

Grabbing the rest of his rations along with the remaining berries and mushrooms, Chef began to stir like he’d never stirred before. He couldn’t eat everything in these woods. Why, he couldn’t even eat all the goblins. Not for a lack of trying, of course. Nearly every goblin tried to eat a whole family at some point or another. But sadly, only so much could fit inside a goblin stomach. Truly world was cruel, to make eating so important and goblin stomachs so small.

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But, while Chef couldn’t eat every individual thing in this forest even on the emptiest stomach, he had heard tale of a legendary creature that inspired him to take a different approach. It was said that far away from here in a land yet unmolested by goblins, a creature exists unlike any other. The legend says that the creature itself is some sort of monstrosity. You see, this legendary beast consumes another creature but keeps it whole within itself. It then goes around, eating whatever it pleases, until eventually it is culled by the apex predator in the area. But because the creatures eaten before were kept whole within that legendary beast, the apex predator dines like a king off of a single kill. That is to say that eating just one of these legendary beasts is akin to consuming an entire forest of food!

The traveler who regaled Chef with this story in an attempt to remain uneaten referred to the beast as a Turducken. Chef never forgot that story. He also never forgot that Chief ate the traveler all by himself. Selfish goblin.

He left a few of the rations on a rock by the fire, not bothering to put it out. He poured the last of his poison onto them as he once again shouldered his bag, lightened as it was by his now missing ingredients. Well, not exactly missing, since he knew where they were, but he was still sad about losing them all. Not that they were lost.

Anyway, he gathered the rest of his goopy food and began to spread the bait. A few berries here, a ration there, and the stage was set. Everything had been placed as though it was natural. Normal even, minus the fact that meat didn’t spontaneously cook itself in the middle of the woods.

Then it was time for sneaking, hiding, and waiting. He covered his tracks this time and found a tree with a good vantage point, but not so good that he’d be spotted quickly. Chef had good eyes after all, no reason to tempt fate by staying too close. And so he hunkered down and waited.

First came the rabbits, smelling the goop and going straight for the berries. Then came deer, some more wolves, and bears until eventually almost the whole forest showed up, enticed as they were by the smell and heedless of their natural predators eating just a few feet away. Really, it was just like cooking at home.

Well, previous home.

Chef sighed as the creatures quickly began to turn on each other, the rations running out long before the berries and mushrooms did. More fodder would arrive eventually and the process would continue until only wolves and bears were left, but they were still ravenous. They’d turn on each other eventually, the need to consume could not be denied.

But Chef paid very little attention to the animal battle royale taking place below him. Instead, he just looked towards the mountain barely visible past the trees as he thought to himself.

How does that human saying go? Home is where the heart is? Then, I’ll just have to take yours with me, Chief.

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Finally, the goblins managed to stop strangling each other long enough for all of them to make it out of the cave. Well, all that survived that is. Two grunts died in the fighting while a third was apparently poisoned, and each one wasted plenty of their time. It was so much faster to eat them with Chef around.

One more reason to find the bastard. Every time he’d ever eaten someone he killed, some portion of their skills and stats had been transferred to him. He got this far by doing just that, killing and eating the weak until he could kill and eat the strong. He’d do the same today, and soon he’d be able to cook, poison, and scheme as well as that damn cook did.

Mark my words, I’ll be picking my teeth with your bones by the end of the day, Chef.

“Spread out! Look for any signs of Chef!”

Chief gave simpler orders this time, wary of the stupidity of his minions.

“Tracks that way, Chief.” A nameless minion said. Presumably the scrawny thing would earn a name one of these days. That or die. Such was life as a goblin. “I think I see smoke. I bet he’s cooking!”

Well then, even his former minion could be an idiot at times. But probably not. This was Chef he was hunting. That goblin was a cook before Chief even became a warrior, and, while the class wasn’t terribly potent, he couldn’t deny the experience the goblin had. And not just the level kind.

Greed had been a motivator in his decision making, true. There might have been even a hint of jealousy as he watched how easily Chef worked his magic in the kitchen or tamed these rebellious cretins that followed his orders so poorly. But truthfully, Chief feared Chef.

Ridiculous as it was, it could never be spoken aloud, but the first instinct he felt looking at the smoke rising above the tree line was to turn around. He couldn’t, of course. Any goblin that ran had to be rounded up, else they'd all start getting crazy ideas regarding self-worth and independence.

Those would result in as sure a death for the individual as it would for the clan. No, Chief had to hunt down Chef, had to kill the little shit himself, and had to be seen eating the corpse. Otherwise, he’d lose everything and have to start from scratch. As much fun as it would be to repopulate the clan with nothing but himself and the few females they had, it would waste too much time.

And so, Chief followed the tracks which went directly towards the smoke rising in the distance. He had told the goblins before to spread out, look around the area, or even to just stay back. And yet, he found nearly a dozen of them sitting around a fire, eating what smelled like well-seasoned meat. Admittedly it did smell good, but these idiots-

One dropped dead. And another one. Yep, that’s what he expected.

“Don’t eat food just lying around you fools! He’s a poisoner! Get back and leave this to me. Establish a circle around this spot and yell if you see Chef!”

That same nameless goblin slowly reached his hand towards the meat lying on the ground nearby before Chief smacked his hand. Wincing, the smaller goblin looked up at Chief and asked, “What should we yell if we find him?”

The goblin mind was an enigma. One could never know precisely what a goblin would do with information provided to them, even if they were a goblin. For better or for worse, goblins were very bad at thinking for themselves. Not that they wouldn’t, just that the result would be embarrassing. So, it was best to provide goblins with clear and explicit orders lest they do something stupid.

“Just yell Chef.”

“CHEF!” A chorus echoed out around him as Chief put his face in his large hands, a habit he’d picked up from Chef himself.

“Fucking goblins…”