The sun began to set slowly over the plains, and the Goblins went to light their braziers to set the mood accordingly, as a great anticipation was steadily ignited throughout the village.
The different crews all finished with their projects, and gathered by the main hearth one by one. The reason they gathered was for a tremendous feast set up to send them off to sleep this evening, fully prepared to wake for the pivotal battle of the orchard on the morrow.
Damon was invited along of course, having trained the Goblins for so many hours that they only had time for the briefest of dips at the pond before all the good spots were about to be taken, forcing the whole lot of them to run over and secure their seats by the enticing flames.
The smell in the air was different from what Damon was used to, with the Goblins burning some sort of wood-like fungus, which had a more earthy odor than the charcoal he was used to.
After an hour of music and frolicking, they all sat down at the long, improvised table which held dreadful and enticing dishes alike, of all different kinds as well. There were mushrooms and plates offering rare meats, nuts, fruits and more mushrooms. Grilled skewers, bowls of sauces, berries and birds of game and more mushrooms. Even a colorful spread of edible roots, tubers and flowers that had been gathered from the sides of hills, river banks and dug up from hidden hollows.
With his body feeling close to starving, it was glorious.
Damon ate half a plate of just about everything, only avoiding the more slimy-looking mushrooms with determination. I can't believe they were preparing all this, and had me teaching them the whole day on nothing but dry rations. Stingy bastards.
But the hunger he'd been cultivating was finally being satiated, making it hard not smile wide and appreciate how his body had been involuntarily primed for the highest order of pleasure.
Next, with his 5th plate full, Damon watched the frolicking Goblins engaging in everything from wrestling- and archery competitions to toasting and watching a rambunctious Blåberry hold court from what appeared to be her usual spot atop her brother Minst’s shoulder. She was back among her crowd of friends and bragging about how she could easily eat over half her body weight in a sitting—which was impressive enough for a few minutes, but as someone pointed out eventually, it still wasn’t a very large amount. That of course made Berry keep going until she vomited like a squirt gun, directly into the air, only narrowly missing Billy’s ear and mane on the way down—causing all the Goblin children, and several adults, to shriek with laughter like little demons.
The proud chimera was not amused.
Rather than let them suffer, Lila instead invited the would-be victim and Damon to move over to the calmer end of the long table, giving them both a helping of some candied dates which all the lounging seniors appeared to be enjoying. “Hope you’re feeling prepared, we haven’t done anything like this assault in a while now, quite a while. But even if we might be a tad rusty, you’re nevertheless the true rookie when it comes to taking on opponents of this magnitude, albeit one who has already pulled more than their fair share,” Lila told him earnestly.
Damon looked about to interject, but Skalle took over before he could. “We know you’re determined to do your bit lad, Berry said you planned on taking part on the front. You’ve prepared accordingly—we do appreciate that, and we’ll respect your ability enough to put you wherever you wish, but the Rootmother is an unknown threat. If one only you have laid yer eyes on. But to kill it off with no undue losses, the higher levels will need to be in position to take the lead every step of the way. Understand? We’ll leave the spiders and the distraction to you, Lila and the younglings.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Damon understood the general plan. By younglings they literally meant everybody but themselves, a wrinkly group of merely a dozen. The rest of them were serving as the distraction. The main force by all accounts, but certainly not the point of the spear.
“Sounds good. I mean, I’m sure that’s all fine, so long as we stay flexible in there, in case I missed anything vital. I’ll help wherever I can, and my daggers should serve fine even against the Rootmother, should we finish dealing with its minions early.” It was hard to imagine how the tarantulas would be able to stand up to both a higher level Damon, Billy and a huge squad of Goblins for back up. Provided nothing unexpected happened, they’d be able to clear the path to the Rootmother’s final chambers no worries. ”We brought back more than just some new levels and Dao Skills tho.” Damon whipped his daggers out threateningly, earning some approving nods. “These bad boys hit more like poleaxes, ever since their upgrade.”
Skalle remained dubious though. “It’s worth a swing, though unless she’s in the early tens, you’ll need to wait until we break past the exterior. You may still get your chance, yet if you go too early, your efforts are bound to be wasted. Focus on the spiders, and on keeping Billy and the rest alive, and trust that we can find its weakness if you give us a couple of openings. For one we’ve got a varied toolkit, if not much else.”
Which made Damon think of Berry wielding her explosive habaneros. “Hah, fair enough.”
They kept eating candy and enjoying the sundown for a while longer, with the feast portion of the evening slowly winding down. After a few more hours Damon had to question why nobody was heading off to sleep. Even if the goblins were too nervous about tomorrow to fall asleep fully, resting their bodies was still important. Eh, they can do what they want. We’ll need to be at our best in any case.
“Hey Billy, let’s relax for a bit before we nod off, whaddya say?” He took a few steps, then noticed Billy swinging his head at the fields outside the village “Is there something else still happening tonight?”
Lila walked up and pointed to the same field Billy had indicated. “Hah, you won’t wanna miss it. Not if this works lilyways. The yellow caps are finishing up their summoning circle. It’s still touch and go, since the conditions gotta be just right to reach them, and then the target still needs to bother showing up, but the bolass head should suffice to entice them.”
They walked closer and Damon overheard a young yellow cap walking up to one of the seniors who’d just finished dining, clearly asking for directions.
The tonsured, older Goblin sighed wantonly. “Yer linework is not what’s important, so focus on the things I’ve said. You’ve gotta feel deeply what I've told you while yer paintin’, or the ritual fails. Get emotional enough, then drawing outside the lines is just fine. Focus solely on yer inner turmoil!”
The young goblin looked skeptical, and piped up fast. “But I dunno the first thing about how to feel ‘Moonshine’. Are you certain that my own turmoil is actually, truly good for it? Seems farfetched to me. You sure yaren't making it up as you go along, ya daft old cunt?”
The senior Goblin—who Damon later learned was named Sträng—just walked off in a huff, leaving the young apprentice to his fellow students, who were only too happy to help him out.
After some serious ribbing.