Cliknik, Chief Scout of the Greenblood Order, had seen better days. For many days now he had trekked south through the great woods with few supplies, his bow lost, no weapon remaining but a knife. The forest was almost ended. Next it would be plains and desert unless he circled around to the coast.

When things had turned at the settlement battle, especially as the giant wolves had begun hunting his scouts, he had made a quick calculation, turned, and ran.

When his minions had first discovered the returning human players he'd known things would be chaotic. His natural caution had kept him at the outskirts of the battle, watching, always watching, to see which killers would have the advantage. But he could never have predicted the pure disaster to follow.

When the human chief, glowing with an aura of power and death, had fallen into the wizard's trap, he'd thought perhaps things could stabilize. But somehow he'd survived.

Then when he'd seen the same man surrounded by the Captain's trolls he'd thought him dead for sure. But it was another failure.

Even the feared Nightblade had failed, first against a human rogue, then finally to the chief. A single human wizard with summoned constructs had battled dozens of raiders and held off many more. Then the bulk of the human forces arrived. The raiders had quickly routed, and Cliknik had fled for his life.

He knew he couldn't return to the Order. The attack had been his suggestion on the advice of that stupid human slave, curse him forever!

Cliknik wondered now if the humans had baited him, fed him false information to ambush the goblins. It seemed a likely explanation, because it was something Cliknik would do.

But it made no difference. If Cliknik went back to the mountain he'd be blamed for failing to properly assess the target. As if he could have known! These humans were no ordinary force. Their chief was a monstrous killer unlike anything Cliknik had ever seen. To fight and kill six trolls together! Impossible! Unbelievable! And his warriors were also extraordinary.

Cliknik had seen many human warriors in combat. Most possessed impressive abilities, especially in groups. But he had never seen so many goblins, along with some of their elite and monstrous beasts, defeated so...easily. Had the raiders killed a single warrior? If so, it was no more than that.

The reality of it all struck him numb, then sickened him. Cliknik felt no great loyalty to the Greenblood Order. Or indeed to the race of goblins. It seemed to him that what mattered, the only truth of things, was he who had the strength took from the rest.

And he knew now his people were not the strongest.

A decade of proving myself to the wrong masters, he thought bitterly.

But he was not so old. Goblins often died young in the warrens where he was from, but the Order wizards were sometimes hundreds of years old! With cunning, and with caution, Cliknik knew he too could live so long.

But not on his own.

The world was dangerous, far too dangerous, and he could never return to the Order, or even the underground, or else soon a Nightblade's dagger would find him for his betrayal. Could he crawl back to the humans? Could he offer them his services?

The thought struck him as mad, then maybe genius. Humans doted on their slaves, it was known. Perhaps being a human slave was even better than being a goblin scout! Yes, he decided, it was almost certainly so. How could it be otherwise? There would be no pleasure houses, and he would be alone, true.

But if he helped the humans destroy the Order, what would they care for goblin females? Nothing! He could make his case. He was good with words. Better the prized dog of a great master then the miserable servant of weak fools. He need only prove himself. Prove his value. And in one fell swoop he could make himself safe and perhaps find reward. But how?

The damn wolves would eat him before he could speak a word. He'd have to go back. To wait, and watch, and find his moment.

He was considering this when he reached the edge of the forest and heard the sounds of fighting just outside the trees. He crawled closer to find a party of centaur raiders chasing a single humanoid across the plains. It climbed onto a small rock pile and loosed an arrow from its bow, but the laughing centaurs circled and dodged.

Cliknik frowned, not very interested, prepared to backtrack towards the powerful humans he had found. Though, he supposed, if he saved a human, and brought it with him, would that buy some goodwill?

For a moment he felt trapped in indecision, then the scrawling laughter of the god of blood and greed crystallized before his eyes.

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[Objective gained: Ingratiate yourself with the human settlement of Nassau. Reward: a new, enhanced class selection, and an immediate level.]

Cliknik gripped the closest, hated tree, and bit the bark to hide his howl of glee. Even now, a lifetime of training kept him silent, kept him careful. He could hardly believe.

In the past few days he had lost his faith in his tribe, and almost in his gods. How foolish he had been. Faithless Cliknik, he chastised. You are not worthy!

The gods of chaos cared nothing for dead fools, and the race of goblins was endless in the underground warrens of the world. The Greenblood Order had grown soft and corrupt and these humans would make them pay the price.

But Cliknik? Cliknik would survive. No, he would thrive beside them until the time was right. Then he would rise again.

The Order of Cliknik, he thought. Yes!

He hid himself then scampered into the tall grass beyond the trees. Oh yes, it would all fall into place. Cliknik the warren slave, born nothing and into nothing, who had climbed to First Scout on the surface world. He would ascend again, as the gods allowed. His legend was only beginning.

* * *

Kiaan, son of Kiaan, had at last reached the edge of the great forest of what he liked to call 'Austra-merica'. He breathed the cool, scent-filled air, and sighed.

The name didn't fit precisely, of course, but all across the North of the continent seemed the massive forest like the Boreal of North America. To the south, beyond the almost endless taiga, a central core of arid plains and desert like the Australian outback, with far more life along the coasts.

Of course he hadn't seen the end. How far south it all may have gone he didn't know, and expected quite a ways. But he had decided it was more important to return his knowledge of the 'central hub' to his Patron, and did not regret the decision.

It didn't hurt that it also might mean fresh food he didn't hunt or summon as dry, bland rations. And hopefully a warm bed and a warmer woman.

It was this thought chiefly in his mind as he heard the sounds of battle near the trees, and stopped to listen more closely.

He activated his new, incredibly useful Camouflage power and crept towards better cover, though it meant he could only move about half his normal speed. Kiaan had not survived his trek across the continent by being an incautious fool.

When he saw nothing too close, he activated his Map and checked the distance to nearby dwellings. There was a small human settlement just south of the forest, and horse-like, monstrous humanoids he'd identified as 'Centaurs' that roamed the area.

They'd nearly caught him on several occasions, and he wouldn't have been shocked if they were involved. Though of course he couldn't be sure.

Out of curiosity as much as professional obligation, he soon found himself cresting a hill to look back out over the plain. He saw a single human standing on a rocky outcropping, bow raised in threat as a half dozen centaurs circled. They made whooping sounds and jabbed spears in the air, and seemed to be having a good deal of fun.

Kiaan frowned. Exchanging information with other humans always gave him system points and improved his knowledge, and he was certain his patron would want him to send such a player to Nassau if he could. But things didn't look particularly promising.

The archer, he realized, was also not necessarily human—the face was shrouded in a cloth wrapping much like Kiaan's, the body covered in loose fabrics one might wear to travel the desert. It was too far to use his identification power, but his intuition told him it was human.

"Horse-men. Annoying creatures," whispered a voice only a few feet to Kiaan's side, causing him to jump and make a muffled gasp of surprise. He blinked and stared until he saw a small, green creature practically melded into the green and brown of the hill's vegetation.

"Don't worry!" The goblin held a knife loosely in a fist. "Cliknik is friend to humans. Even had human slave once! You see? Friend." It put the knife away and smiled with a maw full of sharp teeth.

Kian scrambled to his feet, and ran.

"Wait, silly human! Cliknik help!"

Kiaan stopped once he'd gained some distance. He glanced to see the centaurs and archer hadn't moved from their game, and the goblin hadn't come any closer.

"Help with what?" Kiaan hissed.

"Help human friend. Not friends?" The creature stuck out its lips toward the archer as if pointing. "Horse-men," the creature winked a yellow eye, "Not like surprises. Loud noises from thing they can't see. All it takes, eh? Scamper scamper. Very funny."

Kiaan gave no expression, but understood what the creature meant. Horses in the 'old' world were certainly easily spooked. It made some sense, and gave a ping of intuitive truth. He was also very fast now and could keep pace with the centaurs, and certainly lose them in the trees if he had to.

"Why would you help?" he called to the goblin.

"No why. Cliknik is name. Just tell humans, eh? Cliknik is friendly goblin. Likes humans very much. Goblin outcast now. Needs friends."

The creature looked about as friendly as a crocodile, but Kiaan didn't much care. After a few seconds of arguing with himself, he crept down the hill towards the surrounded archer, keeping himself hidden with Camouflage. When he figured he was close enough to spook the centaurs, he cleared his throat and prepared to make some kind of terrible noise.

"Do like Cliknik," hissed the goblin, again only a few feet away. Then he made a quiet squawking sound, ending with a bit of a hiss. Kiaan put a hand to his chest and closed his eyes.

"I didn't know you'd followed. You surprised me."

'Cliknik' looked back and forth as if this result was obvious. Then he gestured for Kiaan to copy him.

Kiaan took a breath and tried, and the goblin's endless smile faltered.

"More…rattle, yes? Try again. Horse-men will kill other human soon."

The goblin demonstrated again and Kiaan tried to copy it.

"OK," said Cliknik. "I go there. You count to...umm, can humans count? Course. Humans are good, very smart. Forget Cliknik asked. You count, you make sound, then I make sound, and horse-men run like stupids. Ready?"

Kiaan nodded and glanced at the archer, who'd made a bit of a high pitched cry and dodged a poorly thrown javelin. When he looked back the goblin was gone without a trace.

After a few moments of uselessly trying to find it, he shook his head and started counting.