Somewhere, West Virginia, USA.
"CLEAR!" The harsh voice called before a crude metal ram slammed against the boarded up entrance doors to the decrepit apartment building.
The Colonel, three other Red Cap officers, and over two-dozen goblin grunts stormed the building. A dozen more waited outside surrounding the building looking and waiting for any that tried to escape. The Colonel took a quarter of the troops that entered with them and selected a floor while the others did the same.
The General wanted the ferals numbers culled and they narrowed their attack and movement patterns down to the run-down building they were in now. They both knew that this wouldn't stop them. Back in their world they had a habit of surviving no matter what. When they scattered after the mine attack they quickly gave the local rats and cockroaches a run for their money!
A few shots fired off in the foyer as the greyskinned ferals were spotted. Those that didn't fall with a golfball sized hole in their head scattered into the many hole that led inside the walls and the rest of the floors. They split after the foyer was secured.
The elevator was out so they had to used the stairs to ascend. 1st squad took the first floor up. 2nd took the second floor, etc. The Colonel and his squad took the top floor. They didn't run into any resistance going up the stairs. Not even any traps. That was either a good thing or a bad thing, thought the Colonel as they cautiously walked into the hallway. It meant either they were too dumb to make traps or-
His thoughts were interrupted as he tripped a wire that jingled a chain of tin cans. Then the walls exploded as the ferals broke out of the walls and ceiling! Greyskinned goblins with their hooked claws jumped at the soldiers with rabid fury befitting such wild animals.
Though only slightly shorter than the gardener and house goblins, the difference in body tone was apparent as even a single grunt could easily take down a feral with ease. But it wasn't a single feral.
The Colonel was dealing with at least three ferals that had jumped down on him, one even trying to wrest his bladed musket away from him! The others weren't much better as two of his force had already fallen to their viscous claws.
The Colonel roared, let go of the musket, which skewered the feral attempting to take it, and proceeded to fling the ferals off him. A simple kick was enough to shove one feral into the wall paneling while he firmly gripped the neck of the other with such force that it was simple enough to snap its fragile neck.
He grabbed his musket and pulled the trigger. Blowing out the guts of the feral that was still alive even after being bayoneted. He wrenched his rifle out of the bloodied floor and turned the blade on the other ferals that were still assaulting them.
Three more of their number fell as their throats were cut and their bellies gutted. The Colonel charged into the fray once more and cleaved several with the sharp blade on his rifle. Skewering another that tried to jump at him.
The scuffle lasted maybe no more than a couple minutes. But before long it was apparent that he and his men had the better training as they routed the ferals. Hissing as they retreated into the walls, their claws clicking as they climbed through the passages they created.
The hall was a bloody mess. The dark blood of both parties soaked the ruined carpeting. More the ferals than theirs fortunately. But while him and his men continued on he could hear that they weren't the only ones to be ambushed as shots and yells could be heard just below them.
A window shattered from a shot from outside as the guards took shots at those attempting to flee. He would have to disciplined some for their poor aim as a couple came far too close to him and his men!
Room by room they cleared. Sometimes it was empty and sometimes it was completely infested by the ferals as moldy furniture was scrapped and formed into some ragged nest for them to store food or loot. Then one room they found what they had been searching for!
A spawning pool! It wasn't the bright green of the goblins. It was an almost dirty gray color like dirty dishwater. It was in one of the larger bedrooms, and in that room was a horde of the greyskins! He held the door closed as they noticed and charged them.
He motioned for one of his men to hand him something. A grenade. It was something the tinker goblins were working on for them before the workshop went up in flames. He pulled the simple pin off the coffee can looking thing and kicked the door open. The ferals fell as the grenade flew into the room, and into the spawning pool.
The Colonel and his men took cover as the grenade exploded and screams, shrapnel, and bits of goblin flew from the door. Nails and screws planted themselves into the wall across from the door. The Colonel looked inside the room and at the havoc they caused.
The spawning pool was gone from the explosion and heat. But that wouldn't last as the bodies were already starting to dissolve. The Colonel nodded to one of the men. A goblin wearing a slightly bigger version of the hazmat suit Morty gave them during the War for Blak Rock Tunnel. He pulled out a white plastic jug of bleach and went around splashing the bodies and pools of liquid feral.
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Those still living hissed and screamed as the bleach touched them. Their flesh blistering and peeling from the contact. A quick thrust of a bayonet silenced their whining. With enough they would die from it, but they didn't have the time.
After that was done with they moved along and checked the rest of the floor. Other than a few other crude nests, which they cleared all the same, no other spawning pools on their floor. Deciding that they did their job as best they could they left the floor and headed down to the foyer to regroup with the others.
They weren't the first done, nor did they the only ones that had losses. Before long the last group arrived, and with the body of their Red Cap officer. The goblins were left where they fell, the Red Caps nor the goblins themselves cared about them. Though a portion of the heavy duty cleaning liquid was used to ensure that this wasn't a burden they would have to repeat anytime soon.
But the Red Caps made an effort to retrieve their dead when possible. Though it was a rare thing it did happen, like now. He fell during his squads initial ambush, his throat was sliced from the goblins claws.
Normally he would have the body quickly taken back so that it could refresh the pool so that future goblins would be easier to train. But things have been getting complicated lately.
The Red Caps bodies no longer dissolved like the rest of the goblins. Not only that, but the training required to turn a goblin into a Red Cap wasn't working as well either. The number of Red Caps per batch was low, but lately it was getting smaller and smaller.
They upped the training in an effort the offset this but it did nothing but up exhaustion deaths in the recruits. It was a worrying trend. The Colonel had the officer wrapped and prepped for transport while they reformed and made their way out.
Some ferals were trying to crawl away from the building. Some were splattered against the concrete as they leapt from the building, others were dragged and either beaten with clubs or were given quick deaths with a brutal bootheel to the back of the skull.
The Colonel wasn't concerned, the remaining men could take care of any stragglers. While him and his men made their way down the street the Colonel ran into the pawnshop female from some time ago. His height at improved to the point that he could now look her in the eye.
"See you boys cleanin' up the neighborhood." She remarked on the bloody work going on just a few blocks from her shop.
The Colonel straightened his back as he spoke to her.
"Of course! You are under my care and that is something I take seriously!"
The Red Caps have been learning how to speak properly compared to the other greenskins that still spoke with a guttural and broken speech. The Red Caps and smart goblins could now speak proper English! Though their learning of French gave them a mild accent from Morty's tutoring.
"I thought I was under the Duval's protection?" She teased.
"Well, thats what I-" The Colonel tried to correct himself but was interrupted by another Red Cap officer stepped forward and butted in!
"What he means is that they're both-" He in turn was interrupted as the Colonel hissed and got in his face.
The two Red Caps squared up as both refused to back down from whatever challenge drove the two to confrontation. They both locked eyes and glared and snarled at one another. But rank and seniority won out and the other Red Cap backed away with a look of defeat and bitterness.
Content in his position the Colonel turned back to the pawnbroker who looked at the two with a look of worry.
"Somethin' goin' on?"
The Colonel went to respond but paused. Why did he and the other Red Cap come close to blows just then? The Colonel looked shaken and nodded to the pawnbroker and bid her farewell as him and his men hurried back to the estate.
The men were dismissed upon their return and the Colonel took a seat in a comfortable leather seat by the fire in their quarters and tried to piece together what had happened and why. He would need to turn his report into the General but he needed to be clear headed when he did so.
Morty on the other hand was busy setting up the manor for the ball! He had ordered decorations and gowns and suits for the goblins to wear for the event. As befitting a ball set during Halloween it was going to be in costume. A masquerade!
After getting things ordered he had a couple goblins carry invitations to the Mayor and the council. He thought about maybe inviting Jeb and Clive. But Jeb had that Gathering of his so probably wouldn't come even if they were on speaking terms, and Clive was more than likely doing something with the halflings.
He also thought about inviting those feds over, but also wondered if that would seem suspicious. He decided against it just to be safe. For now though he was watching from a window down at the gardener goblins. He never really thought about them or even knew much about how they worked.
What he saw from a window was that the gardeners had formed three tribes in the big hedge maze his family had. One tribe had a banner that looked like a bird, another had a fish, and a third was what appeared to be a horse.
The tribes would come up with what they wanted to create and then charge through the maze and kill the other tribe's forces in a bloody battle royal! Once all but one goblin was left standing the winner would follow the path out while the bodies were cleaned up and returned to the spawning pools. Then the same familiar scenario would play out by the hedges. The winner would, 9/10 times, usurp the former gardener and take over his duty as the body of the former was dragged off and actually buried!
He wondered how the hedges had gotten so big, well that was why. They buried the bodies and planted a new section of hedge over the plot. If the winner was of the same tribe as the last then the hedge would continue in whatever they decided it was going to be. If a member of the fish tribe won two times in a row then the hedge would look more and more like a fish despite the bloody interruption.
If they lost however then they would change their idea to something different, or perhaps more "lucky" if the few gardeners that joined the smart goblins said was anything to go by.
"Master? Would you care to join us?" a servant goblin asked Morty. He turned with a cocked brow.
"Join what?"
"Mass!" The goblin cheered and held up a well worn bible.
Morty's vision turned red and before he could even blink he had the goblin's neck in his hands.
"Where did you get that?!"
"The room at the end of the hall!" The goblin hacked and choked out as Morty's grip tightened.
"You don't go in there EVER!"
"We just wanted to clean it Master!"
"EVER! IT'S LOCKED FOR A REASON!" Morty raged as he slammed the head of the goblin against the wall a couple times.
He let go of the goblin as his face started to turn a bruised purple. He hacked and coughed as he tried to gulp as much air as possible. Morty didn't care though, he picked up the bible like it was made of glass. He held it gently for a long moment. The goblin and the sisters looked at him, wondering what it was that had caused such a drastic bout of rage.
Morty walked over to a nightstand and pulled out a bible that was barely, if ever, used and tossed it onto the ground in front of the goblin.
"Use that if you want. But don't ever touch this one, or enter that room again. Understood?"
The goblin nodded fearfully and picked up the bible with as much care as Morty did with the worn one he held still. He bowed his head and left Morty and the sisters.
Morty just stared at the worn leather cover for a long moment, the sisters never saw Morty like this and didn't know what to say or do. After a time Morty left the room and headed further down the hall. He didn't say a word the whole time, he just stared at the bible.
Before long the three reached a door at the far end of the west wing of the estate. Morty pushed open the, now unlocked, door and entered the room. Last time he came in here it had a thick layer of dust on everything. Now, now it looked no different than any other room in the manor.
A portrait hung from the cold fireplace. A portrait of Morty as a baby, his unsmiling father, and his mother. Him and his mother were the only two smiling in that portrait. But that was fine by Morty. Her dark hair and blue eyes shined with youth and kindness in the painting.
Morty placed the worn bible on the nightstand next to the bed like it was a precious gem. He placed a hand on it once more and uttered a old prayer in Latin before leaving the room. The two sisters had known enough to wait outside for the moment Morty needed.
He closed the doors and locked them with a polished key he pulled from one of his suit pockets.
"No one goes in. Ever."
That was all Morty uttered as he turned on his heel and left this portion of the estate.