Napper had begun to shoot up in size just a couple weeks ago, and already he was a full-fledged Hobgoblin, and there were three or four others in his tribe just a few days away from finishing their own transformations. He’d considered killing the others the moment they had begun to transform, but decided against it.

His tribe was over one hundred strong now, but the humans knew they were out there. Based on the small teams they’d been sending, they didn’t know how large his tribe had grown, but it was only a matter of time before they got a grasp on what it was they were facing, and when that happened they would be sending much more than one or two dozen people to take care of them.

That left him with two main priorities. Scouting the human territory and watching for their movements, and making his position as defensible as possible. The first task was made easier using the maps found on some of the humans who had come to battle them, the second would be much longer work, but walls were already starting to go up.

He hoped that he could solve his other problems before it came to war with the humans. His tribe would certainly not survive a two-front war.

—

The first thing Trekuta set his men to do once the humans withdrew was build a shrine. Further up the river that ran through Reis’s farm was the territory of a powerful spirit. He didn’t know if it controlled so far down the river, but if it did then he wanted it to take no offense to his people’s presence.

“You own that much land?” Trekuta asked skeptically.

“I haven’t seen most of it, but that’s what I’m deeded,” Trekuta’s face scrunched,

“How do you not know that the land is already owned?”

“They didn’t think there were any Goblins here when they sold it to me,”

“Not even considering the Goblin tribes in the wild, what if a part of “your’ land” Trekuta quizzed, “Was the dwelling of a powerful spirit creature or tribe?” Reis scowled.

“Are spirit creatures so common here that that should be a worry?” Trekuta shrugged

“Such creatures are about, Reis, and often supported by the spirits,” Reis’s eyebrows shot up,

“Spirits? Like Dryads?”

“Like a Dryad, or the spirit of the river that runs through your land,”

“There’s a spirit in my river?” Trekuta shrugged once more.

“I do not know how much of the river she claims,” Reis’s brow furrowed. “But her and her disciples are powerful, so it is best to tread lightly,” Reis nodded. “And there are ruins just west of where you were attacked by the wolf. They can be dangerous,”

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—

The powers of the tribe were shifting quickly. Trekuta, who was among Urug’s favored, had been sent to hold a garrison on a human farm, and the warband would have to be expanded to ensure that the tribe remained secure.

For the time being Haluk seemed to be the most likely to gain the position, but the other hopefuls would not let it happen uncontested.

Vine-swinger glanced at Haluk’s longhouse from a distance. It was run strictly, and housed more than fifty Hob-Goblins. Nobody bothered to count any but the most distinguished of Goblins, but they had more of the scamperlings about than they did warriors, which was common practice.

Vine-swinger’s own abode was more humble, a round hut that fifteen other hobs sheltered in, or had. Floor-sweeper puffed up and brandished his broom, trying to look imposing, but he had miscalculated badly.

Vine-swinger had decided that the other Hobgoblin had brought shame to their home, without bringing any glory to balance it with, and so he had told him that he was ejected. He had not taken that well, and had decided that he would fight Vine-swinger for control of the hut.

Vine-swinger swelled up in the same way, straightening his posture and meeting the challenge. Floor-sweeper roared and swung with his broom, aiming for Vine-swinger’s head. Vine-swinger ducked under the swing and kicked upwards, meeting the other Hob’s chin with a wicked crunch. Floor-sweeper collapsed to the ground in a heap, and Vine-swinger scratched his head abashedly. He hadn’t meant to kill the other Hobgoblin, just teach him a lesson on his place, and eject him from the home, but these things happened.

He told Log-thrower to dispose of the body, and left the Hut. He was invited to meet with one of his betters, and it would not do to be late.

When he arrived at the main compound of the Warband’s headquarters, he met Jera, a Hobgoblin among Urug’s favored, by the river. He bowed his head as a sign of deference, and waited for her to speak.

“I hear that you killed a member of your Thrast,” The word had a similar meaning to Throusk, but it referred to a group that wasn’t necessarily part of the warband, or led by a Yunwei. Vine-swinger lowered his head.

“Yes, Jera. We were scamperlings in the same Thrast as we grew. I did not realize he had fallen so far behind me in strength, and I killed him with a blow to the head when he challenged me,” Jera waved it off.

“Your strength is apparent, that he decided to challenge you regardless falls upon his own shoulders. You did what you must to ensure the integrity and honor of your Thrast,” Vine-swinger nodded.

“Still, I would have rather ejected him peaceably, or at least with his life intact,” He avoided eye contact and waited for a reprimand from her for showing weakness. Instead, he got the opposite.

“It is good that you wish not to take life hastily, Vine-swinger, temperance is a virtue,” He shone at the validation, and the two made small talk for a few more minutes before delving into the business that they had met to attend to. One of her scamperlings appeared with a tea brewed from spiritual herbs, a clear showing of Jera’s largesse, and a reminder to Vine-swinger how he could stand to benefit by helping her.

—

Napper wandered the wild, followed clumsily by the bear cub his tribe had found at the back of the cave. It had begun following him around shortly after the tribe moved in, and now it would not leave his side. He’d even begun taking the creature on hunts with him, teaching it how to stalk prey.

This, however, was no mere hunt. He was scouting enemy territory, but not that of the humans. A group of his hunters had brought back a highly magical monkey to offer him as tribute, and ever since the damnable creatures had been picking off his Goblins and attacking his fortress. Clearly the animals had much greater cognition than he had given them credit for. They would have to die, he just needed to find them first.