The morning came, and even after so many days of rest and proper eating Makur was yet to fully heal, the damage going much deeper than I thought. Turns out only we, the goblins, heal wounds faster the more we eat and rest, explaining why it was so hard to have scars.

He gave Fogosh the same map we used to get to the tower but pointed at a different spot somewhere deeper inside the woods.

We were to gather a large party of goblins first, and now with the lack of orcs to train them properly, the objective was to make a suitable escort force that could take us to the plains, where we would march for a few weeks until reaching the outskirts of the Orc lands of Tyishikush, where bands of orcs usually rested in waiting of powerful warlords to guide them into the human lands for plunder or into the unknown for adventure.

In preparation I entered the trance, focusing on learning what Makur taught me about using war picks, and I also took the chance to dwell deeper into the past, back to Makur's fight with the knight and how he moved around him.

Our orders were given so we departed, Maeld approached me once out of the tower to remind me to prepare her medicine.

The walk around the woods was much more pleasant now that green vegetation returned to the trees and ground. The chirping of birds, and the sweet aroma of the moist soil, it was a nice contrast to winter's dead face and unwelcoming deadly arms.

At one point we reach a river to drink water, it was a little deep for us and it went very fast away from the forest, I could see it came from a faraway mountain that had a big waterfall. But once we drank enough we moved on.

Occasionally we would spot a roaming band of gnolls no bigger than half a dozen, announcing themselves first through their disgusting stench or the faraway cackling of their voices.

Hyena humanoids that were larger than even the orcs, carrying deadly maces and hammers, as well as human parts they tied to their belts, occasionally taking a bite out of them. With a woman of their kind usually ordering the rest around in their half-cackling, half-talking language.

They weren't close to the tower and seemed headed in the opposite direction so we moved on, but after the third group was spotted, it became clear we needed numbers and quick or move out from these parts of the woods.

I noticed how Fogosh was an expert scout, always noticing the groups long before they came into view by the way grass had been trampled, or a particular smell that didn't fit. I think it would be impossible for him to get lost anywhere.

Finally, we reached the spot Makur indicated Fogosh to reach, it was a collapsed small fort, old as the tower, with a toppled statue fragmented and half-swallowed by the earth. It seemed to be a man wearing full armor, his helmet with multiple now broken horns. Seven dragon heads adorned the base of the statue, they were also broken into many pieces and scattered around.

"Who was this?" I asked Fogosh as I approached the statue. The entire place gave off an after-image of battles fought, ancient history long forgotten within these woods.

"No one that matters if their statute is in that state. Volatia is old, there have been many a king. Come on, we have to get inside" He replied tugging my ear and jerking his head to the fort " and be ready to fight, the prize must be at the bottom, and goblins strike first, asking questions later"

We entered the destroyed fort through a narrow opening barely big enough to fit a normal-sized man. It was dark for common eyes but not ours, and if the interior had anything of value it was long gone. Only broken bricks of stone and remnants of once having hallways and rooms were left. The tumbled walls and large pieces of stone forced us to squeeze through them to go deeper.

Soon we reached a destroyed trap door and the familiar smell of shit and rotten food reached my nostrils. It had been so long since I thought about the cave, my first home.

Carefully, we went down the stairs and reached a now mostly intact subterranean tunnel. Large pieces of the fortress broke the ceiling and blocked a direct path, so we entered a nearby room, an ancient now empty storage room.

There a goblin sat on a stool, getting startled at our presence he raised from it, spear in hand, and yelled. Soon a handful of other goblins entered through a door at the other end of the room, I held my war picks in each hand as tension grew.

"We see chief! Wanna join, fight together! Bigger lair, stronger lair!" Fogosh finally spoke, his words purposely rushed and uneven, as if he was much dumber than he was.

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The goblins looked at each other for a moment, pondering if believing us or not, and after some hesitation they moved aside, indicating we could pass. Guarded by the mob following us close behind, we went through a few more rooms, they had a large number of goblins, almost thirty.

Such a number seemed to agitate Fogosh slightly, he expected less.

Finally, we reached the deepest part of the tunnel, a large room that had once been a dining area for the inhabitants of the fortress, whose skeletons still rested in pieces all around. It was dusty and lit by a few meager campfires to keep the still-present cold out.

Atop what once was a dining table for whatever elite dwelled within rested a goblin, noticeably thinner than all others, yet very well defined, with wild, unkempt brown hair and brownish skin, his nose big and crooked. Resting on his head a crown of forks, knives, and daggers.

"Wha'?! You come, seek counsel for 'ure! Kneel, I be KING!!" the goblin ordered as the rest of the goblins poured into the room with us, a tide of green carrying spears, clubs, and knives.

"King?! You is old and weak! Feeble, fragile, no true king!" Fogosh shouted as he walked forward, the goblins all around growing angrier with each word and I more anxious.

"Serpent tongue! schemer! TRAITOR!" the mad goblin screamed in fury as he picked up two daggers from the table and jumped down, all goblins around us riled up with him.

"If you strong king, then kill strongest warrior!" Fogosh shouts loud enough to silence all the grunting and snarling coming from the mob around us.

The mad goblin seems to consider his words and points at him with one of his daggers, only for Fogosh to shake his head and look at me. The fucking bastard, he gives me a wink before addressing the crowd.

"Strongest! He kills, he true KING! He fails, he fake!"

The mad goblin wastes no time and with animalistic fury, he rushes towards me, Fogosh jumping aside and the goblins cheering as they stay away from us.

Mad as he is, there is no strategy to his attacks except the fundamental basics, he is wild and erratic, yet deadly and faster than he looks. Every swing brings with it a clash of our steel as we dance around each other.

Did I look like this when I first fought against Fogosh? He rolls and jumps, twists and turns mid-air as he tries his best to land a hit, but I have learned much from Makur, and while hard to follow due to how random they are, his strikes eventually grow into a comfortable rhythm.

I see my chance as he prepares to thrust forward and when he does, I confidently close the distance, using one of my picks to destroy his right knee, the mad falling forward and positioning myself behind him I finish the fight with a clean hit to the back of the head.

He falls to the ground with a loud thud as the crown rolls away from him, fresh blood dripping from it and my war picks as I retrieve the one from his skull. The goblins stare at us in silence, then at each other unsure of what to do until one of them growls and screams rushing towards me from the back.

Before I can react, a knife flies past me, cutting right above my ear and striking the neck of my wannabe killer, who drops his spear to the ground and chokes as he tries to breathe. I look at Fogosh who smiles at me mischievously for a brief moment before returning to his more serious expression and addressing the crowd once more.

"False king! Weak king! No king!" his words are loud and echo in the room, capturing the attention of all goblins inside "But here, there be a king!"

His words take a bit of time, but soon the goblins begin to nod in response, beginning to cheer and surround me. Then there is it again, that same warm feeling within like the very first time I was made to lead a group of goblins by Makur.

"NO!" Fogosh shouts and everyone looks at him, he stands tall and proud, shortsword in hand "I BE KING!"

The goblins look at me for confirmation, and after crossing eyes, with Fogosh I nod, the goblins then slowly leave my side and surround Fogosh, who smirks at them.

Once he instructed them to leave the destroyed fort they obediently began to leave the room, and as they went I approached Fogosh, who sat on top of the table where the mad goblin rested before.

"You could have warned me," I said, trying to hide my displeasure.

"Consider it a test, I wanted to see if your training would pay off, and indeed, I noticed the way you fight has become more refined, more precise. Well done" he didn't bother to look at me, instead he studied the makeshift crown in his hands, blood now drying.

"And what about this king thing with the goblins?"

"What about it?" he asked me matter-of-factly, finally lifting his eyes to meet mine "I didn't think you wanted to deal with leading more raids against fellow humans. I have grown used to it by now, but if its what you want then I can let Makur know"

"Would that even matter? Didn't they recognize you as their king?"

"Come on" he rolled his eyes "When they see the much bigger orc we answer to they will follow him without a doubt when I tell them to. It's how goblins work" he jumps down from the table after the last goblin has left the room and pushes the crown against my chest, one of its dagger poking my skin harmlessly "Here, keep it if you want to be king"

Letting go of the crown he walks away.

I look at the shoddy crown in my hands and chuckle at the idea. A kingdom of goblins.

We exit the ancient fort and with three dozen goblins following us we backtracked and returned to the tower where Makur whistled as he saw the number we brought back, Fogosh announced him as the true king and the goblins accepted it right there.

As soon as Maeld came into view, however, their predatory smiles and intense stares made Makur kill the most excited one with his axe, leaving it clear that she was off limits. To which all goblins nodded.

With such a sudden boost in numbers Makur commanded Orokur to take charge in his place while he rested further, and using us as joined leaders of the goblins we ordered wood to be gathered for more campfires since these goblins lacked proper clothing, as well as a place for the goblins to bulk together and sleep.

The day came to an end as I returned to the tower, now surrounded by sleeping goblins, with a collection of herbs in my arms. There was a lot to do and among it, Maeld's medicine.