Even deep inside the cave and through closed doors, it was as if a cold wind was suddenly blowing under the stalactite-decorated dome of the goblin women’s hall. The torches’ flame flickered and dimmed, the fire losing it’s warmth. Slightly unsettled, Resi blinked, and suddenly a dark and stormy face stood a hand’s breadth before her. Resi jumped, now scared deeply by the previously just strange but kind and surprisingly affable older woman. In fact, Resi had practically forgotten that she was talking to a being surpassing even the old legends of her tribe.

In a way, the oppressing feeling now was similar to the intimidating aura [App] the then not-so-grandmotherly Grethi had been using inadvertently before. But currently, the tell-tale signs of [OS]-supplemented power, an aroma she knew from her enchantment work, wasn’t present. This was personal. Resi was in for it now.

The other women paled from the acerbic atmosphere and slowly turned towards Resi, the obvious cause of it, confusion and a rising panic on their faces.

The great and terrible, the primordial Grethi—how could she, Resi, an outsider even within her tribe, have dared to speak so blithely to such a being?—raised her hand. Resi panicked. Death was coming for her, she realised with absolute certainty before blissful darkness took her.

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These fools and their godsdamned traditions! No, these pitiful children! Held down by their stupid traditions! I take a deep, deep breath, deep enough to stir the stale cavern air and calm my agitated mind. Slowly, haltingly, the anger fades. It is replaced with sadness. With the back of my hand, I wipe away a tear that had been forming in the corner of my eye. When I open my slightly reddened eyes again, the young enchantress in front of is dropping to the floor like a sack of turnips.

“Oh, what’s wrong with the poor girl?” I wonder while some other women rush towards her, “Is it malnutrition? The way you all look, there’s no way you’re getting enough to eat here. You girls should take care of yourself better, if it’s bad enough to start fainting in the middle of conversation!”

Irm kneels next to the motionless body of Resi, pushing away a rather muscular woman, who had been fussing over the brown-eyed girl with particular care. Witha, wasn’t that her name actually?

“Come on, don’t baby her now. It’s her own fault after all,” Irm says while holding up Resi’s hand before letting it fall back down onto her face. “At least she isn’t pretending,” Irm observes mercilessly after making Resi slap herself.

“Can anyone enlighten me to what’s going on?” I request more sternly now. Maybe too sternly, judging by the everyone’s twitching. No matter, fainting is serious business.

“That foolish woman got what she deserved, granny. Good of you to put her in her place”, Irm spits unhelpfully. Is she still harping on about those newfangled hierarchy notions of theirs? They aren’t telling me something, I can feel it. Something important. All the women look like a [Red Tiger] got their tongue. In the end, it takes an inquisitively raised eyebrow to have Irm finally reveal the positively shocking truth.

“Don’t worry granny, Resi was just thinking herself witty. It was a lie. There will be cake.”

Just this one sentence is enough to lift a hundred zentner weight off my battered old heart. Now, to preserve some dignity. “Irm, that’s very sweet of you to say, but I don’t need to have cake, if it is too much for you lasses at the moment.” Somehow, she doesn’t seem convinced.

Noticing faint movement, I look to the ground and the last of my present worries leaves me. “Resi, good to see you awake again!” I say in what I hope is an unambiguously friendly tone, but the girl nevertheless looks at me as if it had been a [Violet Worm] burrowing it’s way up into this dusty topside cavern instead of me, her favourite grandma. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like one of the sweeties I brought now?”

Resi’s face brightens tentatively, but Irm stops her from accepting. “No, no, it’s all right, granny. Please, especially after what this brat just pulled.” With her last word, Irm pinches Resi’s left ear between her fingers and brutally pulls her to her feet again.

“Sorry, granny, I was just kidding, sorry,” Resi pleads, while her ear starts to turn from olive to a deep shade of red. Wait, shouldn’t it be way greener to begin with? And less round? Is there actually something about her lineage? No. Looking around, hers looks just like the other women’s ears, disregarding the pinching. Which needs to stop.

“Don’t worry, child. It was just a bit of good fun, right? I must say, it has been a while since someone played a prank on me so brazenly, but it only shows that you’ve got some guts!” I reassure her and wave my hand in a dismissive gesture.

With peace reinstated and me still distractedly thinking about ears, Irm leads everyone to a dark part in the back of the cave hall. She places her hand in a small, natural looking crack in the rock and some energy flows from her hand into the wall. I’m not disappointed when a hidden pathway opens and let’s us through, closing right behind our group.

The room we enter can barely be called a cavern any more. The walls are intricately decorated with depictions of goblin glory as well as scenes from every-day life. The left half of the room has a fireplace and work surfaces tidily decked out with knifes, spoons and other kitchen utensils. Everything is clearly in good repair and, in stark contrast to the previous cave hall, there is almost no dust on the furniture or anywhere really. Yes, there is actual furniture here, including a large table made for a more numerous group of people than present so far, even when counting the few actual children and older women that seem to have been holed up in here the whole time. Were they giving the younger adults a bit of privacy for the romantic encounter I so indelicately interrupted?

The wrinkliest of the goblin crones laboriously gets up from her chair. She looks a lot cleaner than my initial welcoming committee in her white linen dress. Heir grey hair is bound with golden wire and I immediately understand she’s trying, rather successfully, to exude an air of authority. Doesn’t she almost look older than me though? Now, that is a strange feeling.

While trying to project a regal air, she addresses the leader of our group. “Irm, who is it that you have deemed worthy to introduce into our most holy place? Don’t tell me she is one of the challengers?!”

“Pardon our intrusion, Matriarch Sene. Rest assured that she is our guest and is not here to attack us,” Irm explains solemnly while curtsying.

By the mountain king’s hairy butt, manners really have changed since I’ve last had some drinks with a goblin tribe chief. Don’t tell me they even have kings and other such bureaucracy surplus now?

“Allow me to introduce—” Irm starts to go on, but the matriarch brushes her aside.

“So the [Goblin King] still lives? The attack failed?” By the gods, they really do have a king! And by the sound of it, the special [Intonation of Power]—there, I’m doing it myself—it’s not just a fancy title for the biggest drone.

“He is dead, Matriarch. The humans breached the last stand of the valiant defenders lead by the [Goblin King] and entered our bowers”, Irm explains to both my and Sene’s—if I’m allowed to call her that—surprise. Unexpectedly for me when hearing about such a loss, the matriarch expression of surprise is not exactly negative. Interesting. The [King] is dead, long live the [Matriarch]?

“There finally were some good, strong, strapping young men with the challengers then! Splendid!”

Oh my. It seems I really did interrupt something back when I arrived. I hope I can apologize for my foolishness soon, but it seems the report isn’t over yet.

“The attackers were very strong, Matriarch, much stronger than any of the usual challengers. They annihilated our defenders who had no chance to retaliate in any meaningful form,” Irm informs as the smile on the old woman—who I guess is also one of my descendants?—grows wider and wider. I wince internally thinking about how her elation will surely turn into fury when she hears of my imprudent interference.

“And? Why are you here then? Why haven’t you gone with them to their lands?” Sene puzzles.

Uh oh. It’s coming now. I have to tell her. Here! It was me! I scared them, so it was my fault! I give myself up—

“The reason that we are all still standing here is her”, Irm reveals with a finger pointing straight at me, before I can gather the courage to admit my own fault. “Allow me, again, to introduce our guest: [Eldest of Goblinkind], [The Green Pearl], [The Emareseeay, The Grandmother], Grethi of the [Deep Wisdom] has graced us with her presence,” she repeats my titles, now appearing as an eulogy. But, while my stomach churns, I can’t detect any sarcasm in her voice. I don’t know if Irm even does sarcasm. The matriarch looks like there are some really heavy cogs starting to turn inside her skull.

Into the stunned silence, Irm goes on, “As if a kind god had lead her back to us in our terrible hour of need, the great Grethi saved us from the rapacious humans who, despite showing immense power in braving our defences, also showed their immense evil in attacking us right here in our bowers.”

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Nothing was as it should be. The [Goblin King], her own son, was dead. That would have been an acceptable cost, an honour even, for him to have died while ensuring that only the best would be able to woo the fertile females of her tribe. Alas, he had died for nothing, merely failing to protect his ward. But why would the humans try to kill the women waiting for them?

Before she could endeavour to have that question answered, a question that could be of utmost importance to the continued existence of her people even, she had just encountered a decidedly bigger problem. If what her preposterous daughter had said was true, she, Sene, wasn’t the oldest goblin of the tribe any more! While being younger might appeal to some of the vainer women, for her it meant only one thing: Her position as matriarch was in grave peril.

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Sene took another look at the newcomer. Clad in coarse cloth and metal armour, that woman looked more like a warrior than a honourable elder of her people. Granted, the brutish raiment flaunted intricate designs woven and carved into the material, and if the woman wasn’t a strange kind of armour-fop, it was prudent to assume these decorations to be the basis for powerful enchantments. So yes, maybe it was true that there was a legendary warrior standing in front of them right now, as if torn form one of the reliefs on the walls. Maybe this harridan truly was the eldest of goblinkind, their ancestor, the one that the [OS] deemed so important that every newly gained title by them would be broadcast to their whole people.

Sene couldn’t believe it though. Could someone of this import really be allowed to be so unbearably ugly, for example? In contrast to her family’s refined appearance—soft, brown skin with nary a hint of green and ears almost completely devoid of any sharp points—the supposedly great Grethi was the antithesis of smooth, not even counting the wrinkles. After all, there was no shame in wrinkles.

Her ears though! One ear was tucked into her strangely proportioned helmet, but the other seemed to have slipped out. As if to present to the whole world, like a literal flag, that here was a goblin of the basest kind. Truly, a face only a mother could love, and if she really was the oldest and grandmother of all, no one of that description was left to do the loving.

Nevertheless. Despite these obvious problems, that usurper had already wormed herself into the hearts of her, Sene’s, own flesh and blood, her family. The other families—fine. That problem child Resi—of course. But even Irm was already calling her ’granny’ like a witless child!

And to crown it all for Sene, now her best chance so far at having her own grandchildren had been ruined! After weeding out so many weaklings as potential fathers, that bumbling Grethi had killed the strong ones.

Wait, did Irm just call them murderers?

“What?”

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What? “What?”

It seems both me and the matriarch are stunned by the revelation of the depravity of who we both apparently thought were here for romantic reasons rather.

“Yes,” Irm confirms, “against all the traditions of the bridal challenge, the challengers—no, the murderers—were about to slaughter us all. We would all be dead if not for her, for Grethi. For out granny.”

I— I did good? I mean, of course I noticed something was wrong with the two men, rude as they were towards me. But I was afraid that had been mostly the surprise of having your sweethearts’ grandmother appear unsolicitedly at the most inopportune moment. Not so, it seems. Gods be damned, I should have actually given them a proper beating in that case.

Still not fully used to talking so much after spending so long underground and often alone, it is again the matriarch, Sene, who speaks first.

“What did you do to make them want to murder you!” she accuses and it doesn’t sound like a question to my ears. Which are still perfectly fine, even at my age. No need for her to raise her voice like that.

Irm and the others shrink back a little, but the younger woman doesn’t give in. “We didn’t do anything to make them hate us. They simply came in with weapons drawn and the intent to kill. When we noticed one of them seemed even the tiniest bit reluctant, we tried our best to convince him of our worth, offering everything we could give. And he was swaying! But it turned out they had strict orders by the [Human King] to kill everyone, and there was a loyalty-sworn knight with them. There was nothing we could have done. When their spell crafter—a woman—” Sene’s face distorts in disgust at that information of all things, “when she raised her staff towards the cave ceiling and the very air started to take on a strange taste, I thought we were all lost.” One of the women that were present during the attack gives a small, choked sob when reliving the memory of their near death by spell.

Then Irm turns to me, a smile back on her face, a single tear falling from her yellow eye. There is so much emotion here, I don’t know what to say, now more than ever. I can only think how fortunate it was that I stopped haggling with the candy artisan and got a move on when I did. I would never have been so lenient with my finances though, if I hadn’t found a glinting zecchino under the church altar where I stopped to pray for safe and interesting travels. What a fortunate string of coincidences.

“Fine, I get it,” the matriarch butts into my thoughts, “at first I thought we had gotten unlucky.” Why does her gaze linger on me there? “But now I see that the [Human King] has simply gone mad.” She breathes out heavily, the end of her breath coming in small bouts as if she’s laughing, even though she doesn’t look like she’s having fun. Rather, I think it might all be a bit much for the revered matriarch.

I realize it’s finally time for me to say something. “I think it’s all very lucky. I for one am glad to be here with my dear grandchildren. After all, it was only by chance that I saved the tribe’s current generation of goblin women. At least they are safe for now. But just with this glimpse of what might be going on in the background, I can say that this isn’t over yet. Someone is plotting something. In fact, I’m sure this is still only the beginning, even though I feel as if we’ve been talking so much already that a transcription could probably fill several chapters of a book that is later used to keep an old table from wobbling.

“What I want to say is, naturally I am going to to help you. Though I have the feeling you still need to explain some of your more modern customs to me, which seem a little bit strange to my old-fashioned mind.”

“Firstly,” I fixate my eyes on the gathered goblins earnestly, “why, by all that is green, would you have humans come here, fight against your drones and then take the women as if they were mere trophies?” The look I get in return is the same as if I had asked them why they would ever brush their teeth in the morning. Please let them not have unlearned basic hygiene, too.

“That is the way, granny. What other is there?”

“That is how it has been ordained by god, clearly you must know that?”

“Granny, are you trying to trick us back now? I really am sorry about the cake thing!”

“Has she lost her faith in our gods?”

“She called the defenders the d-word!”

The women are all whispering excitedly and somewhat exasperatedly among themselves. Yes, I certainly put my foot in another one there. I’ll have to learn about the ’d-word’ thing later. But first, accusing me of being faithless, now that is taking things a little bit too far.

“I’m sorry to have upset you all, but there is no way the gods have actually told anyone to do something so roundabout and honestly pretty ignominious.” The ones who knew that last word seem even more offended now. This time though, it’s me who doesn’t let anyone talk before having said my fill.

“Moreover, don’t just accuse me of being a blasphemer without knowing anything. I’ve actually talked with Gheo, may he protect goblinkind forever. A few times actually. You know, back when there was the whole divine renovation going on with all the [Forced Update]s, or however those were called. Maybe that was before your time. Anyway, they really didn’t seem the type to force such nonsense on the people they were most invested in.”

Now the stares have turned into utter incredulity. “The gods don’t just talk with mortals like us!” the matriarch just about screeches.

Some of the others seem to agree with her scepticism, but Resi quietly considers, “Well, granny isn’t just any mortal.”

It seems I’ve made a good impression on the girl. Irm, too, is at least keeping an open mind here. “If a god would need to confer something to a representative to our people, granny, as the oldest, would be the logical choice, no?”

“But she has no tribe! She isn’t even a matriarch!”, Sene, who is one and apparently likes to remind others of that fact, desperately argues back. “And even if they would deem anyone worthy enough to contact, wouldn’t they just send a [Divine Message] to the mortal’s [OS]?” A little victorious smile creeps onto her wizened features then, as if she had just proven her case.

I just look at her with a bit of a silly smile of confusion. “Ah, I’m out of the loop again it seems. Remind me, what was that [OS] thingamajig?” I ask her honestly. It’s not shameful not to know about every new kind of fancy.

“Granny, you can’t be that old!” Irm exclaims in shock. “You have to know about the [Divine Ordinance System] at least! You just mentioned [Updates]!”

Having things spelled out for me like this instead of having to deal with some confusing acronym is enough to tell me what they were talking about. “Yes, fine, if you’re using real words like a normal goblin, then sure I know about that at least. To be honest, I have never found much purpose for that clunky thing, but I guess it has its uses sometimes.”

I was wrong. Before, their faces weren’t those of utter incredulity. Now their looks are less comparable to a discussion about dental hygiene than to a declaration against putting sugar in cake. Of course, if they’re not good with the first, the latter wouldn’t such a bad idea, if it wasn’t so sacrilegious.

“I’m sure you younger folks can deal with this stuff much better than I. But for me, I just don’t have the patience. I guess that is why Gheo addressed me in person instead of waiting for me to find the time to look into any of those [Messages].

“In fact, maybe I should get this clunker running once more to check if I’m not missing anything important with the current events. It’s certainly a while since I did. And then maybe you can show me where there is anything in that thing telling me I should wait for some human to swoop me off my feet as a trophy rewarded for some stupid challenge instead of doing some swooping myself.”

I walk to the nearest artless and more-or-less smooth wall and place my hand onto the hewn rock. Then I stop. I feel the women’s gazes on me. Uh, how did it go again?

“Granny, you have to [Boot] the [OS] up first,” Resi unhelpfully advises me in her youthful language.

“Did you [Plug into the Divine]? I’ve heard people need to reassess even something foundational like that for older types”, Irm tentatively suggests.

I turn a little angry-red—dark green, more like—at the suggestion until it turns into embarrassed-red when I notice I haven’t opened up my mind to the divine like that in quite some time, apparently. Sure, I’ve prayed, but that’s more about letting something out instead of letting it in. I don’t generally like to let anyone into my mind, so I’ve set up a fairly sturdy metaphorical wall there. But I can definitely offer a secure connection to old Gheo for this purpose at least.

“Thanks, Irm” I say, not thinking myself too good to admit a mistake. I concentrate for a small moment and plug everything in. Then, magically, the divine information starts flowing. Through my arm it enters into the rock face. Slowly, numbers, letters and then words appear, as if chiselled into the stone. At first, there is only a single line reading

00000KG

but then the numbers slowly go up until

00640KG

is where it seems to get stuck. A bit of rock dust is falling towards the ground below from the engraving. We wait with baited breath as nothing happens for a long heartbeat, only for the line to finally be replaced by

Starting GG-DOS…

and a something blinking below that. After a moment, a single further line appears, made from just one letter and a few symbols, a small stroke at the end continuing to blink invitingly.

G:\>_