Twelve goblins were lost.

His brethren finally reached a single coherent group so he could properly count them. Most of the losses were manageable. Spinecrack's company lost only four goblins. Luckily no hob's were killed, a single unlucky one got injured in the arm. Nothing serious.

Gob wasn't discouraged by the loses. Most of the loot he gathered was being safely delivered back to the tribe. He also knew for a fact, that the remains of the soldier's equipment won't be plundered by the enemy knight's. It was an example set to the humans living near the mountains. They would be left to rot.

They kept a steady pace. Frail looking goblins were following their respective hobgoblins. Obviously the hob's weren't carrying anything from the common spoils. They strong wouldn't carry out the duties of the weak.

Gob was silently following his Spinecrack. Giving him the great sword payed off. He wasn't forced to carry any excessive luggage apart from a dagger and a pouch he chose himself. They were safely stashed under his cape.

In this crowd of greenskins he stood out even more. No other goblin wore anything resembling clothing apart from a few rugged pieces of cloth between their legs. Some had basic pants covering their asses, but it wasn't even close to Gob's robes. 

Hobgoblins wore some occasional pieces of metal strapped to their bodies, mostly their shoulders. Some were wearing coned helmets they plundered from corpses. Their equipment was always new, because they were always the first to claim the spoils they liked.

It was far past noon when their half naked fellowship crossed the village border. Outside the giant mountain range a series of caverns could be seen. It was an old mine complex. Goblins gathered here and there. Many were busily finishing their jobs in the fading sunlight. Works assigned by hobgoblins was always prioritized. Tiny goblins tried to complete whatever tasks they were assigned to before the dark.

The sun was going down and so their time was limited. Any disappointed hob was free to punish their goblins however they saw fit.

The group passed a small barricade made of wooden boxes and other rubbish and entered the village. Gob could already see the so called night guard preparing for tonight's hunt. Hobgoblins loved to hunt in the dark. They would likely plunder whatever human they could find in the forest.

Spinecrack instantly joined the guard's practice leaving his goblins under Gob's management with a simple "Keruk". Gob knew it would turn out this way. It always did. He quickly assigned his kin into groups. Weapons were sent to the armory back in the caves. They were to be used by hobs.

Leather was sent to the magazines. Gold was given to the hob managing valuables. Other junk was sent to whoever Gob found worthy which meant that he sent it to whoever was smart enough to use it properly.

Few goblins had very distinct jobs. Apart from gatherers and hunters only a few had work regarded by the community as even remotely useful. And so the special skinning knife was sent to the Houndmaster along with some broken chainmail which Gob considered good enough to use as a basic wolf collars.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Some trinkets with symbols of human god's were sent to the clan shaman and finally an ornamented buckler which Gob deemed elegant, although not practical, was sent straight to the chiefs chambers. Hobgoblin chieftain loved such junk.

Last rays of sun licked Gobs skin with a simple goodbye kiss when he finally left the busy village square and headed straight to the elder's cavern. It wasn't the biggest one out there. In fact if you were to search for the biggest entrance into the mountainside you would miss it.

Gob went past the simple curtain of some old red material and entered the domain of the elder. He would usually go to the shaman's place, but things had changed recently.

Elder's room was decently sized. It had a simple fireplace and a few wooden shelves. Among many house appliances there were a few features that would make a normal goblin uncomfortable.

For starters the room was clean. Not a sign of mud or cobweb. Second a few rugs and carpets made it look somewhat cozy. For third several dissected animals were stretched on the table.

Few birds, a bat and three squirrels. Meanwhile an old looking goblin and a village shaman were immersed in some deep conversation. They didn't even noticed Gob's arrival.

"It came back."

"It is gone, it can't back."

"Black tar is seen."

"It wasn't the only to knew the tar."

Gob came closer and greeted the elder.

"Keruek elder Gob."

"Keruek young Gob."

The elder stopped arguing and replied shortly. The shaman snorted visibly displeased.

"We need find him and tell we accept the tar."

The elder didn't respond and tailed the leaving shaman with his sight. Nozgu hated Gob to the point of not wanting to stay in the same place with him for too long. After he left Elder goblin spoke to Gob. He was talking the way he talked with the shaman. Goblin language was limited so whenever a better word was needed he would at its human counterpart. Human vocabulary was more reliable whenever goblins were to talk about more complicated things.

"Keruek They tell me about ambush, tell more."

"Keruek Human knights attack other humans from lake."

"Lake humans for sure?"

"Sure. Leather armor."

The elder paused for a while and touched his chin. Gob waited for a moment before he spoke again.

"They killed goblins trick others we attack."

"Deception is the true art of war after all."

This was a line from the elder's book Gob could once look at.

"Will war ...."

Gob wanted to ask, but he suddenly lost a word he needed. The elder saw his distress and foresaw his question.

"It will happen soon. All human dead. Waste."

He then turned around dismissing Gob.

"Keruek young Gob."

It was a formality with which the elder would finish their conversations, yet Gob disregarded it completely.

"Elder teach?"

The question didn't reach the elder as he stood next to the table and began to extract a black like substance from the corpses of dissected animals into a small vial.

He was turned backwards to Gob. Old, creepy goblin that didn't go away from his cavern even for a short walk. The only goblin possessing true knowledge. The only goblin that had human books.

Gob could feel the dagger he took. It fit his hand just right, hidden under his robe. Scent of animal blood filled his nose while he looked at the elder's back.

Elder shivered when something touched his unprotected spine. He turned back to see that a curtain was moved by the leaving Gob letting some wind into his room. He shivered once more to the gust of autumn and continued his grim task of collecting the tar into his vial. 

They would need to deliver it soon.