Somewhere, West Virginia, USA.
"PUT YOUR BACK INTO IT!!!" A harsh voice barked out.
The dragues grunted and whined as they continued to chop and hack at the thick trees that covered the south of the Duval Estate. It was slow going since they were using basic axes and handsaws. The dumb things couldn't be trusted with anything more advanced.
At least that was what Morty, and everyone else, thought. Morty placed a ice pack to his aching head as he nursed a stiff drink. He could only vaguely recall the Ball. He was excited, then annoyed, then angry. Oh yeah, the City Council and the Mayor stood him up.
Then he recalled something about swearing vengeance afterwards. He winced as a great tree fell to the ground with a groan, and a wet squelch as a drague failed to get away in time. Vengeance was for another day, he thought.
He wanted his industry up and running yesterday, and he was annoyed that it was such slow going to get the forest cleared. The workforge was being rebuilt as they worked. In the meantime, the logs were being trimmed and stored in a hastily built shed to shelter them from the weather.
He didn't need the whole forest cleared, just enough for a decent path/road to haul the stone, ore, and lead from the deposits back here for storage and processing.
But even that was taking too long for Morty. So today, instead of dealing with matters involving the town, he decided to oversee the lumber operation. The back brick wall has since been torn down and the brick repurposed for other things around the base camp.
What stood now was a wide open view of the various oaks, pines, maples, beech and cedars that covered the area. Now he just had to tear it up. At least he will when the dragues would stop dying from the falling lumber!
"TIMBER!!!" The harsh call of the Red Cap foreman came as a solid trunk of pine fell.
The various work crews of the dragues scattered this time save for a handful that were either squished under the pine or lost appendages to it. The ones still alive were dragged away to the drague housing quarters. Small shanty shacks that were barely held together.
Morty followed and glanced inside, curious as how the dragues were made compared to the rest. It was pretty similar to the rest of the goblins. Save for the fact the pool was a murky almost dirty dishwater color instead of the vibrant green of the other goblin pools. It also spawned 3-5 at a time instead of just a single goblin every few seconds.
Then again, given the rate they died it wasn't surprising to see them being pumped out faster and in a higher volume, especially if the near constant stream of dead dragues being thrown into the pools to "refresh" them was anything to go by.
Morty, curiosity satisfied, went back to observing the operation. He stood under a pavilion with one of the smarter goblins as they gibbered about plans for collecting the lumber more efficiently. While they did so the Red Caps and other goblin grunts were patrolling the area, keeping the dragues in line as well as keeping an eye out for anything that might wish them harm.
Which wasn't much at any rate. Other than a brief skirmish with a boar their presence scared away anything else. A bugbear/bigfoot/whatever they called themselves came up and gave Morty a brief report.
All is well, the halflings were where they were every time they reported back. Though the scout did report that some of them, and a handful of humans, were doing some minor foresting on the west-side of the forest that Morty was clearing.
Nothing that was any issue, Morty thought. Though he would have to either send someone or go himself and make sure that the halflings knew what was and wasn't theirs.
But from the report it wasn't anything to worry about yet. Maybe he can keep a tree line that could separate the two, a natural boundary so to speak. He knew that when he started doing full scale agriculture that the walking spuds would be his natural, and only, competitors. But that was a future Morty problem, today Morty was dealing with just clearing more than a few feet of trees!
The only good thing about the dragues was the same advantage that the other greenskins had, numbers. That was about it, they were too dumb to do anything complex, and too weak to do much of anything else. As soon as 10 new ones joined the work crews, twice that were hauled away, dead from exhaustion or some random act of violence between them.
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
Goblins were naturally petty. But the dragues seemed even worse! They could barely work together, they required a Red Cap or someone else of higher rank to keep them in line just to prevent them from offing one another.
It seemed to Morty that a caste system had naturally formed. Him and the sisters at the top, the Red Caps and other house/smart goblins making the next step. Though he's started to notice a bit of a rivalry between the two groups. The Red Caps maintained that their military mentality and organization was better, and that they in turn were better than the house/smart goblins. The house/smart goblins in turn believed they were better as they were better educated and learned than the Red Caps.
Morty has had to intervene between fights in the manor already. He's limited the house staff to serving only himself and the sisters and relegated some dragues to serving the Red Caps. This has resulted in more incidents of violence against the dragues for spillage and other instances of "carelessness". But the serving staff were grateful to not be dealing with the "brutish" Red Caps.
After them it went the goblin grunts, and finally the dragues. Not like Morty cared though. As long as they did what they were told he could care less. He watched a log get dragged away on a hastily built sled as he sipped his drink.
Out the corner of his eye he could see some of the smart goblins continue to tinker with the remnants of the scrapped vehicles. He heard them talking about building a "hauling kart" to better haul the lumber and future deposits they were going to exploit.
From what he's seen of the plans so far he would be surprised if it ran at all if it didn't explode, again.
That wasn't the only thing being worked on either at the moment though. While his armee was being trained and drilled as it continued to grow, he was expanding the area around the manor.
A few guard posts were being built along the road to the manor, and he's already drew up plans to build some housing for the soldiery, either in town or here on the grounds. It'll keep them happy and content, and if he puts them in town then they can be quick and ready to deal with any... malcontents.
As soon as the workforge is up and running he also wants more artillery. Either cannons or mortars. If only there was sulfur and saltpeter nearby then his armee could be entirely independent!
But you can't have everything. Though he wasn't sure what would be cheaper, ordering a bulk order of gunpowder or the ingredients to make it himself. Another problem for future Morty.
The workforge would also need to be expanded or liquified into separate specialized factories for processing the lead and iron. As well as a masonry to work stone. He wanted his manor turned into a fort by Christmas! A big stone starfort surrounding the manor itself! Walls lined with cannons! Sure it wouldn't deal with Apaches and Tomahawk missiles. But it was better than nothing!
The thrown together lumbermill was first on the list though. The fact that it burned up with the rest of the workforge was an annoyance that he didn't want to deal with again. So while the workforge was being rebuilt the lumbermill was being built away from it. Once it was up and running he can resume his lumber processing.
-----
The Colonel had returned to the pawnshop. Though he was hesitant to enter. The same feelings from last night returned, worse than before. This time he was painfully aware of the new sensation in his breeches!
Once was a coincidence, twice was a pattern, was the human saying wasn't it, he thought as he shuffled. The fact that it's happened twice, and both times was in the presence, or even thought, of the pawnbroker, was enough to confirm his theory.
The other Red Caps were little better as the metamorphosis seemed to spring on them with little thought or feeling, he wasn't sure if it was sudden or if it had been happening for some time and they just didn't realize it.
Either way, it was something that the Red Caps now had to deal with. Sooner rather than later. Since yesterday the number of Red Cap recruits has fallen to pitiful levels. There would usually be potential in new spawns that would make it fairly obvious right from the get-go that they were worthy of donning the colors.
But that was rarer and rarer as time went by, and now he was sure that the days of drawing recruits from the spawning goblin pools was at an end.
He walked through the door as a little bell chimed above. Alerting Molly the pawnbroker of his presence. She actually smiled when she saw him. Which just made his nerves worse!
"Hello Colonel! How's the patrol goin'?"
He swallowed nervously.
"It's going as well as usual. Another nest is in the process of being put to the sword as we speak. Though there were also reports of a lone individual skulking about sometime last night."
She nodded with a smirk. It was actually kinda cute that the uniformed man was so nervous around her. A nice change from the hot and bothered country boys from one of the farms or ranches that would swagger in and try and pull their country boy charm on her.
"Heard about that this mornin'. Find out who it was?"
"We did not. I wanted to make sure that those under my- OUR protection weren't bothered by the incident!" He hastily corrected.
Yup, definitely cute, she thought as he continued to sweat and shuffle in her presence.
"Nope, as you can see everythin' is where its supposed to be."
He nodded his head at her words.
"Good! Good. Well, unless you would like to report anything than I will take my leave!"
He didn't wait for a reply before turning on his heel and making for the door. But then he stopped just as his hand reached for the door. He took a deep breath and turned around and looked at the still smirking pawnbroker.
"Though, if you are not doing anything tonight? Would you care to go for a nightly walk with me?"
"Why Colonel?! Are you asking me out once more?! And so soon?!" She asked with faux scandal in her voice.
"Y-y-your right, my apologies. It was improper as to inquire again so soon. I'll take my leave then." The Colonel said and turned to leave once more, a bit dejected that his offer was rebuked and ashamed that he couldn't wait a proper amount of time before asking her again!
"WAIT?!" Molly called.
He looked back at the pawnbroker.
"I was only teasin' a little! I would love to go for a walk with you tonight. If you still want?"
The Colonel smiled and nodded.
"Of course! I'll meet you after your work is finished?"
"That'd be fine!" She stated with a smile.
The Colonel left with a bit more pep in his step, though his nerves were shot from the situation. Another date, he thought excitedly! With his courtship of the pawnbroker going ahead now he just needed to get permission from the General to advance it when the time is appropriate.
The Colonel returned to the manor and searched for Morty, after asking around he found him in his study. As was the head butler, who looked to be speaking with Morty about something as well.
"-he staff are beginning to feel certain things that are not common among our kind Master. I have an idea what might be happening and I would like to inform you-"
"I desire to mate." The Colonel stated simply as he grew tired of the head butler's rambling.
Morty's only response was to spit and choke on his bourbon.