Aackzor the Bleak wasn’t sure what he was looking at. Dressed in a white shift dress and black knee high boots, the young woman stood before him with the confidence of a conqueror even though she had the stature of a teen aged girl. She was slight, pale with dark hair, had a pretty face, was unarmed, and had two deep, all-black eyes that stared into your being like a demon ready to eat your soul.

Behind him, the members of his horde were mumbling and whispering to one another as they gossiped and speculated as to what the two of them might be talking about. In truth, they had yet to speak. Aackzor, frankly, wasn’t sure yet what to say to this … human girl before him. She appeared to be looking him up and down like a cat sizing up a particularly brave mouse. It was unsettling. None of this made any sense to Aackzor who, as a seven foot tall bugbear, had seized control of his goblin horde with a mixture of strength, fear, and sheer force of will.

This whole thing had started not less than ten minutes ago when he had awoken to a war horn sounding in the morning redness. Donning his hauberk and great sword, Aackzor had walked out of his tent to find a scout sprinting to him across the camp to tell him that another goblin tribe was on approach. A big one.

Aackzor had ordered the entire camp to be roused, for as he had decreed, if they should suffer an attack, any who did not fight – father, mother, or child - would after be put to the sword.

The other horde had met them at the base of the hill where they had made their camp. A host of a thousand had met his hundreds. If it came to blades, his would be outnumbered two to one. Thus, Aackzor had been relieved when a scout from the other tribe had arrived bearing a message for parlay. He had accepted immediately, gathered his lieutenants, and set off to meet the other leader.

Now here he was, standing at the base of the hillside, his entire war band lined up behind him and all four of his lieutenants beside him as he faced off with this little stick of a girl who was looking at him less like the seven foot tall terror he was and more like he might be on the menu for her next meal.

Which, for Aackzor, was something between an insult and a point of concern.

His eyes turned back to the girl. She still had yet to speak. And her face is that of one who thinks to wait me out. Silly games. Enough of this waiting. “I am Aackzor the Bleak,” he said loudly, “conqueror of a dozen tribes, raider of the valley, and slayer of men. Why do you lead this horde into my presence?”

The black haired girl folded her hands at her waist, “You may call me Vevic of the Last Light. Behind me is my tribe, the Broken Foot. We have traveled across this valley to offer you a proposal.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Aackzor thumbed the hilt of his greatsword, “And what proposal is that little Vevic?”

Vevic let out a chuckle as she stared at him for a moment. “We offer you peace and prosperity. We offer that you may join our two tribes so that we may join our strength together. We offer you the opportunity to rule over this valley as the greatest goblin horde this world has ever seen. All you have to do is submit to my rule and I will offer you a place by my side.”

He looked out at the horde behind the girl. They were twice the size of his. Perhaps that was where she got her confidence. However, what she didn’t know was that not only was he worth thirty goblins by himself, he had another twenty hobgoblins mixed within his little band as well and they were worth a dozen their lesser cousins. In addition, he had elevation and fortification on his side.

The fall of the great lich had happened only days ago, sending all of the surrounding tribes into disarray. Aackzor’s tribe had swelled to three times its normal size and until recently, he had been too busy leading raids to have any time to think about just how he was going to sustain this whole thing. Before, his tribe had been small enough to live nomadically. However, as his tribe had grown, he had decided to make his settlement more permanent. Three nights ago, he had led his little war band to this hillside where they had started chopping down trees, setting up spikes, and building walls. This had led to other questions. Like, where could they gather food? Or, was this the safest place to settle? Or most importantly, how many thralls and concubines could he keep? He didn’t have a lot of answers to these things yet, but such were the burdens of leadership.

Now it was Aackzor’s turn to smile. “Not on your life, lady. Don’t think you’re going to walk up to me and get me to lay down. Every goblin you see behind me is worth two of yours.”

The smile disappeared from Vevic. “I expected as much. As an alternative to all out battle, might I suggest a more … civilized way of resolving this?”

This ought to be good, thought Aackzor. “Speak your peace, woman.”

The girl calling herself Vevic squared her shoulders. “Single combat. You and I. Winner takes all. Survivor controls both hordes.”

Aackzor ground his teeth for a moment. Does this bitch really think she can kill me? I will maim her and take her like a dog before all who can see. Making like he was reaching for his great sword, he instead grabbed his dagger and flung it at the girl. Whipping through the air, the blade was aimed right at her belly, enough to wound, but not to kill.

Quick as a cat, Vevic dodged, stepping aside as the dagger whipped past. She then laughed, casually, as though she had been expecting the whole thing.

“I was hoping you’d do that,” she said.

He pulled his great sword free and with a roar, he charged. It was mere yards between him and the girl and he couldn’t see a shred of armor or a single weapon on her person. She was dead. He’d had enough.

As his eyes went red from rage, there was an explosion of smoke. Black and purple as it blew out in a cloud across the ground. Aackzor, undeterred, charged through as he kept aim at where the young girl had been not a half second before.

Then a claw came flying through the smoke and struck him in the head and suddenly he was on the ground and everything was spinning. Slowly, as his head spun and he fumbled for his blade, the smoke began to clear. The blow had knocked him weak. He needed to recover or whatever had hit him would surely close in. However, as he rolled over and pulled himself to one knee, his foe finally came into view once again.

Where the girl once was, now stood a dragon. Black and indigo scales layered over a golden belly. Then a claw grabbed him and pinned him to the ground.

“You have fought bravely Aackzor, though not particularly well.” The beast’s four black eyes bore into his soul. “I now pose to you my second question. Serve me as my general, or die as a sacrifice to my greatness. The choice is yours.”