She rested under the watchful eyes of her new companions. When she woke, she was pleased to see all of her mana had regenerated. So, she spent most of the morning using her magic to heal her wounds.
Vevic had chosen Witch as her class as it had an interesting blend of both healing and offensive magics. This, she believed, would augment her status as an independent dragon who did not need to depend on the skills or whims of others to get by. She was also quite taken with the hats.
The goblins, to their credit, had brought her a doe that their shaman had presented to her in some sort of ritual. She found this fitting, though she did not say so. She also did not mention how hungry she was. Instead, she chastised the shaman for not bringing her a larger stag, warned him that if he did not do so by nightfall that she would eat him instead, and then devoured the doe raw.
After her meal, she went about questioning the shaman about the local lich lord. She learned that his name was Astyg and that his fortress was located nearby on one of the foothills. That was good, as she intended to stay clear of the mountains. She also learned he was a bit of a task master who forced the goblins into meZial labor down in the mines, because he had just recently formed an alliance with a tribe or men who were stronger, better equipped, and willing to conduct raids on the local villages for a lower rate. This, understandably, had alienated many of his goblins who then began sneaking off in the pre-dawn of the early mornings when Astyg was busy finishing his rituals and generally avoiding the coming sunlight. The shaman said he had around a hundred men and maybe half as many goblins left. Vevic then chastised him for not knowing more, mocked him for his weakness in not overthrowing the lich himself, and dismissed him.
Silently, Vevic moved Astyg and his fortress at the top of her to-do list.
That night, the shaman returned with a lackey in tow. Bowing in apology, he explained they had spotted a great stag but were not able to kill it as the stag fled to the territory of a neighboring tribe. Instead, the shaman explained, they had hunted a boar and if it would please her magnificence, they would bring her said boar in apology.
There was something in this that was a lie, she could smell it. She let the silence hang as she looked down on the two goblins prostrated before her. What was he lying about? That was the real question. Had they hunted the stag and kept it for themselves? No, that would be too brazen. Only a fool would do such a thing. No, what the shaman was hoping for here was something else. Something more cunning.
She leaned down to give them a closer look. The shaman’s fear was barely there. He was confident in his lie, she could feel that. The lackey, however, was nearly trembling, which told her that one of these goblins was smarter than the other. Much smarter.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Bringing herself back to her full height, she addressed her audience of two. “I am disappointed Howl by Sunlight. I had expected more of your leadership. I ask only that you bring me tribute, and instead you bring me lies. I’m afraid your life is now forfeit.”
With that, she snatched up the shaman in her claw, bit down on his head, and pulled it clean off. She then spat out the head and tossed the carcass aside. Goblin was rotten fare, no matter how well you cooked it. Below, the lackey had not moved.
“Tell me your name, little thing, so that I may know what to call you.”
The lackey bowed even lower, “On the day of my Reckoning I earned the name Brightfeather, your magnificence.”
Vevic was amused, “And how did you earn such a name, little one?”
She could see the goblin swell with pride as he recalled the memory, “Magnificence, I was asked to travel to the highest peak to steal an egg from the nest of a great Roc. After several days on the mountain, I came across a nest, but to my avail the great bird was seated on her eggs. So I waited. For a night and a day and a night again, I hid in the cold against the jagged stones until the great roc finally flew off. It was then that I snuck out to steal and egg and when I came to the nest, I also saw that the great bird had shed one of its feathers. Knowing that the shaman had given me this quest in the hope that he might never see me again, I stole the feather along with the egg as a show of my strength.”
“What is a ‘Reckoning?’” she asked.
“A Reckoning happens on the night of a full moon where the Shaman performs a ritual, asking our god Gorush for guidance. The shaman holds a handful of sticks in the fire as he says prayer and then how ever many sticks have caught fire are how many goblins may be given a Reckoning. I was one of seven sticks, your Magnificence.”
Interesting, she thought as she considered the possibilities of this ritual. “And how many of these other leaders returned?”
Brightfeather bowed his head even further, “I was the only one, your Magnificence.”
Either these goblins are incredibly incompetent or this shaman did not want any competition for control of the tribe. She gave a hint of a smile, “Tell me Brightfeather, do you know why I killed your shaman?”
Brightfeather answered without hesitation, “Because he lied to you, your Magnificence.”
“Preciously, and I happen to know why as well,” she added. “He intended to make me attack this other goblin tribe, hoping that they would either slay me or that he would then become second in command of an even larger tribe of goblins. Am I right?”
Brightfeather answered, “You know you are, your Magnificence. I live only to serve you.”
“Good. I like you Brightfeather. I think you have a bright future with the tribe. Pun intended.” As a respectable dragon, Vevic always intended her puns. It was a matter of intellectual pride. “Now if I might ask, do you happen to know the name and location of this other tribe that Howl by Sunlight wanted me to attack?”
“They are based in the next valley. I believe they call themselves the Tribe of the Waning Moon.”
Shame. That’s a much better name. A pity we’ll have to wipe it out and make them a part of the Bloody Foot. I suppose I can’t complain as it appears I’m about to become queen of the valley. She lowered her head to look eyeball to eyeball with the goblin. “Brightfeather, I want you to let the rest of the tribe know that we’ll be leaving to confront the Tribe of the Waning Moon on the morrow. I just happen to have a plan on how to deal with them. Oh, and if you would be so kind as to bring me that boar that was promised, that would be nice as well. I don’t think we’ll be putting any shamans in charge again any time soon, will we?”
“No, your Magnificence.”
“Good. You’re dismissed,” she said.
Minutes later, not only did Brightfeather bring her the boar, but he had two young goblins carry in an elk stag as well. She did not ask where the elk had come from and Brightfeather did not say.