Chapter 10 - The Clay Wars

With my basket complete, I got carefully to my feet and waddled over to the main part of the village. Buzz and Sally had taken most of the tribe to work on their tasks. I could see Buzz’s goblins all working at a variety of variations on the vague instructions of rub two pieces of wood together. Some were downright worrying, as a pair of them were sawing a pole back and forth against the trunk of a tree. Normally that wouldn’t be worrying, but goblins are so go-go-go, I think they might have actually been able to saw through the thing, given enough time.

One or two of the projects actually had a small bit of smoke rising from them. Well, that’s how development works. There’s a lot of trial and error, and the more you can iterate, the more you can discard failed solutions and focus on narrowing in on the right answer. Having the goblins feel things out was definitely slower than reaching into my own pool of knowledge, but for things I didn’t actually know how to do, it would be a useful tool. I needed more tribe members.

There were about 10 goblins still left in the village, idling or scraping at the stone-sloth hide. Though, with that heavy, stoney skin I wasn’t sure what we were going to use that hide for. It was much too heavy for a goblin to wear.

I threw some poles and twine and small bones in my basket I took the rest of the goblins with me. Together we threw ourselves down the cliff. It wasn’t so bad, if I could convince myself I was sky-diving. Unfortunately, that did little to soothe every human instinct that clung to my new body telling me I was about to die.

My legs managed to stay on, which was an improvement. But then, I was starting to get the knack on securing things with the home-made cordage and I’d taken the time to re-tie them with the improved twine.

Once we picked ourselves off the ground, I gathered the goblins around. “I’m looking for clay. It’s like mud that stays wet, even when everything else is dry. It’s soft, pliant, and sticky. Usually near water.”

One of the goblins squawked for my attention and began to chitter. He picked up his spear and headed out into the forest. With the second-generation sticky stilts, I was able to keep up a little better, even though the goblins had traded their knives for flint cleavers that they used to whirlwind through the underbrush like ninjas on cocaine.

We tore through in the meandering trail-blazing fashion I was growing accustomed to, when we reached a clearing that had a wide, slow bend in a creek. And there, just behind the trio of stone-sloths, was a patch of pristine, red clay.

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Wait a minute.

Before I could tell them to wait, the entire group of 10 goblins charged in, weapons waving. The largest stone-sloth took both notice and immediate umbrage. It roared and charged, bowling through the collective and swiping its claws, snapping spear shafts and shattering cleavers.

Shut it, System! I had to think.

“Retreat!” I shouted.

The goblins began to fall back, large stone-sloth snapping at their heels. Luckily for me, he seemed more interested in staying between us and the other two than in pursuing a meal. Family group, perhaps? Matron and cubs? Patriarch and mate plus offspring?

We made ourselves scarce in the clearing and I waited until I was sure the bane of goblin existence wasn’t following us before I called a halt.

The remaining goblins panted and wheezed with the effort of the escape. Several of them keeled over face-first into the dirt while I considered.

“Does anyone know of any other clay deposits?” I asked.

Forlorn eyes turned toward me, and I put my little furry hands to my temples. That was it, huh? All right. “Wait here,” I said.

I crept back through the woods alone, since stealth is apparently a foreign concept to goblins. When I caught sight of the clearing, I climbed a tree to try and get a better view. It was definitely a sloth lair. I could spot a crack in the rocks where they were coming in and out of. Not only that, but both creatures made frequent trips to the clay pit in order to slather the material on their own hides, which made me think that the material on their backs wasn’t stone or calcified skin at all, but long-cured clay.

This was a problem. It meant stone-sloths (clay sloths?) natural habitat involved clay deposits. We barely scraped by against one of these creatures, and it had killed half a dozen goblins in the process. I had hoped they were rare creatures, but it seemed like clay might also be rare, and reasonable to assume these beasts likely stake their claim on deposits.

I sat in the tree and watched them for a while. Eventually the largest one wandered off, but the second largest stayed to watch the cub. The clearing was never deserted.

Climbing back down from the tree was noisy and hap-hazard, and I only realized at the bottom that I could have just thrown myself off of it. Still too much of those human instincts. I didn’t know if that was a bug or a feature of this new life, but I’d have to overcome it if I wanted to utilize the full breadth of the few benefits granted to permanently level 1 goblins.

I wanted that clay. But three stone-sloths and goblins don’t mix well—at least, not well for the goblins. I needed time to plan.

That sounded… terrifying. I tried to imagine the implications of Buzz putting together various combinations of the tools I’d unlocked in the morning to come up with a device of that name, one which apparently produced fire. But, the number of tribe members didn’t drop, so as long as the village was still standing, I’d consider it a win we desperately needed.

Clay would have to wait, for now. I didn’t like that that was the case. Clay opened up a lot of possibilities—the least of which was making reusable molds to mass-produce parts. But we at least had fire. Progress is progress, but I needed rapid iteration. And I needed a plan to deal with the sloths.