The camp had never been this restless. The cold bites harder when men don't bother to cut the logs and keep the fires strong. They are too busy bickering with each other or contemplating leaving to bother with the tasks needed to keep the camp working smoothly.

New men began to appear from the woods, those that did not initially wish to risk getting anywhere that could end up with them once again in chains. But the cold is a terrible enemy to fight, even more so with an empty stomach. What was a few dozen, now were more than a hundred. Sleeping together in now crowded tents and sharing watery meals.

Jorr announced the plan to halt the human advance, and all hell broke loose. Now besieged on all sides, many men lost all hope. The only hobgoblins who didn't lose their composure were the fake ones, those made with the Starblood. They kept watch over the food stockpiles, and brawls became commonplace almost every day.

To some, there was the expectation that those men that died at the hands of the humans would help lessen the hunger, but this was far from the truth. Jorr returned from his expedition with all men intact, for whatever reason it seemed the human advance had been halted. What made them busy? Many wondered.

Many men wanted to leave, while others wanted to take over. Nojus left with all Huani to fulfill his master's orders, as some of the escaped slaves called it.

Things only got worse when the guests began to arrive. None really knew what where they doing there, those humans dressed in dark cloaks, with masks, but the witch commanded they be treated well, and housed in the wooden huts that many wished to take for themselves. Five days had gone by after the goblin murdered some of them and left.

It was then that the goblin returned. With several carts full of much-needed goods. Medicine to treat the wounded and sick, clothes adding to the fur and pelts that many were made to wear and iron objects to facilitate life in the camp. But most important, food.

His arrival was met with silence.

Who was this goblin? Housing a vulva and the Ahajhalnari which everybody stayed away from. He arrived dragging the corpses of many humans, and when Jorr questioned him, his answer made the silence he was greeted with, all the more heavy.

Meat.

For the hobgoblins, it wasn't pleasant, but the hunger was strong, and the meat was welcomed. So the newly made cooks did the best they could to hide the particular taste of human flesh from their hard-boiled stews. But in spite of this dislike, none really complained. Not just because their stomachs were now full, but because any whisper died when the goblin was in sight.

Even the most stubborn among them, the oldest, knew to not start trouble if the goblin was nearby, or even looking at them from afar. None wanted to admit it, but there was fear inside of them. It wasn't natural. Even for those that suffered the fiend called Fogosh controlled their animosity to the best of their capabilities.

The Huani were outraged. Almost all of them had not so long ago been humans and refused adamantly to consume the flesh of their once kin. But the goblin made it so the guests had the priority of no human flesh, so once the hunger felt unbearable, they relented and forced themselves to eat.

The goblin made sure to visit the Huani, who were constantly shooting arrows at the orcs who were making their own fortifications on the other side of the furious waters. Unable to build their bridge, the two sides constantly led skirmishes against the other.

But it was more than fear that the goblin brought everywhere he went. It was order too.

All fighting stopped and none dared to look lazy or idle. More of the surrounding woods were felled, making the clearing around the camp two times larger than the camp itself. With plenty of wood to work with, many began to construct triangular-shaped huts to add to the tents and create some space.

With food in their bellies and proper clothing as well as medicine, the sick healed, and the weakness was replaced with a desire for vigorous energy. Many were angry, and what was once reluctant service to the defense against the humans, became an eager rush to get a weapon and fight. This was the way of the hobgoblins, for as long as they had lived.

The goblin remained always vigilant. If not looking over his men from the catwalks of the palisades, then he was watching the training of new warriors, for many of the escaped slaves had many professions and little experience with actual warfare. But this was not the case for all. Dozens of the men were experienced raiders who had navigated the rivers of Ur and assaulted settlements of the Orcs and savage humans far to the north.

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Days went by, and while there was a certain uneasiness, things were under control.

Thorum left the camp when Morgana received a scroll just for him. No words were shared between him and Rokan, he too was disgusted by the callous indifference of the goblin to the human flesh that was served.

In comparison, the siblings were the only ones who were not bothered at all. For Enon, humans were just another type of animal, why should their meat be treated any differently? But where he didn't mind eating men instead of deer, his sister, Indri, reveled in it. For her it was more than just a meal, her hatred of humans made each chunk of flesh in her stew taste ten times greater than anything she had ever eaten.

And now every time she saw the goblin, there was a glint in her eyes. Perhaps aided by his embrace of the Starblood in him. Or perhaps, his own wrath at the humans which she appreciated. With her growing friendship with Lina, visiting her became an opportunity to bother him too, and even if his ever shorter temper was funny to poke at...there was this ever-increasing allure to him that she knew meant trouble, but the fun type of it.

The one who was the most furious was the Ahajhalnari. She never ate what the hobgoblins cooked, for her food was that which her blessing could provide. The tree inside her tent had grown and enveloped it whole. Within it, fruit grew that she could eat and live from.

Her open desire to kill the goblin was evident every time they fought in the training arena. Many secretly hoped that the next time he received a hit from her spear, his skull would crack and he would never stand up.

She wished the same too. But even if every fiber of her body begged her to let loose, and end him as well as the whore of a witch that inhabited the camp with them...she never did. For her very flesh also demanded she snapped the neck of the siblings. If she allowed herself to kill the goblin, would she be able to stop herself?

It was a question that she dare not entertain.

So she kept training with him, and she could not ignore that every day he grew stronger. His movements were faster, more precise. The power of the Starblood was truly terrifying. But as a warrior as seasoned as her, nothing made her more hateful of the goblin, than staring into his eyes, and knowing that there was so much more than just anger inside of them.

The look of someone who has lost the battle to change...it was like looking into her own eyes, more than a hundred years ago. Was this work of the Starblood as well? Why did it feel that inside those dead eyes...there was a soul.

Lina stared at them train, and this growing sensation of being left behind became ever more bothersome. Could she ever become strong enough to beat him? Would that fateful day bring with it the freedom she sought? Her mind had become turbulent, with the news of the human advance, and she couldn't stop thinking about Andrei.

So many of the men she had grown to consider her new family were dead. The very reason why she betrayed the man whom she loved...or loves. Had it all been for nothing? Now almost all hobgoblins looked at her with the same hatred they looked at the goblin since she was who always tailed him.

And the goblin also occupied her mind. What had happened? He always had this distant stare, as if he was constantly being bereted, or having to look at the furthest spot to be able to concentrate. A mind that intrigued her, and a man that she admired. How could she not? Half of her life lived in a way that they told her was how she was supposed to exist, and the other half lived for the humans that owned her.

Yet there he was, a goblin, the end of all jokes, whose very existence is used as an insult to be thrown, stood at the top of this camp, fighting toe to toe against a great warrior daily, and forcing obedience by his very presence. How could she not look up at him?

But now his lost stare was...unsettling. Fear crept up every time their eyes locked. And where once she would feel at ease enough to lower her guard with him, she could not even remain in the same tent for long, preferring to stand outside and fulfill her duties as his guard.

Her mind was a mess. For not only fear took over when she looked into those black eyes with golden irises...there was also concern. Of all things, she worried for the goblin, and even if it was little, it was there.

How could she approach him? Why would she care enough to even try? Having a free mind became dangerous, so instead she requested Enon to teach her how to read, so at least she could occupy her thoughts with anything else besides all the troubles that surrounded her.

Morgana followed Enon closely, not physically, but her ways were many, and her talents made spying on others trivial. Keeping an eye on the siblings was her priority ever since she discovered them. Now, however, she had to watch the goblin as well. The Starblood was starting to take over, and she wondered if he would go Star Crazed?

The game had taken a dangerous turn for the worst after Thorum shared what he found with her. What was Scarlett's angle? In the name of all Demons, what was she trying to do? If she had not been with Cornus that day, she would have killed the siblings right there. But then no doubt she would have ended up dead herself when it came to informing Scarlett.

And now she could not kill them without fighting that bitch, the Ahajhanari guarding them, completely healed. A fight she wasn't sure she could win.

The world had truly gone mad if a goblin was leading an army and a warrior of the leaf had betrayed her entire race to look after a pair of the very beings that once threatened to end their existence.

She needed allies, she needed the goblin. But could she trust him? Would she dare to trust anyone after what happened the last time she trusted someone? Regardless of what she felt, there was no way to do this alone anymore. Kingdoms fighting with each other, petty feuds among powerful lords, none of that mattered.

The only thing that mattered was the mist. And stopping Scarlett from making it swallow Volatia whole, and turn the only safe heaven in the world, as rotten and putrid as it was, that allowed for life to exist in whatever twisted manner that it could turn into just another land devoid of life.