The Amulet of the Hobgoblin King. Harald bounced it in his palm. An Uncommon Artifact, which meant it was worth a Zenith Tide, or 10,000 Copper Moons. On the face of it the amulet seemed more valuable; this kind of sway over goblinoids felt very powerful, but then again, it would only be useful to weaker raiders who couldn’t just obliterate every goblin and hobgoblin in their path.
But here, now, it felt like a game changer. He’d have to swap out the Dawnblade, which was tough, but he could still use it as a regular weapon, and it should still respond to the Abyssal Attunement.
And then?
Harald tongued the inside of his cheek. Shadowpaw was out of the picture for the rest of the night. The real question was did the amulet replace his Mastiff’s power with enough of its own?
The only way to find out was to test it, which meant entering the tunnel and searching out another war party. If it worked as he hoped, great. If not? Then he’d be fighting the goblins and hobgoblins with just the Goldchops at his back. And while the Goldchops were masterful, they couldn’t compensate for having an Uncommon-ranked Servitor on hand to help ambush and slaughter his enemies.
Harald studied the garnet amulet. Then again, it was ranked Uncommon, the same as Shadowpaw. Did that mean it was meant to be an equivalent?
Depended on how he used it.
He was procrastinating, he realized, and closed his fist about the amulet. Dithering out of uncertainty and fear. Time to make a decision, and obviously he was going to try out its power.
So thinking he closed his eyes and focused on the Dawnblade. He’d never relinquished an Artifact, but it proved as intuitive and simple as everything else. Holding the sword in his hand, he thought on its connection to his Cosmos, and willed it to sever. And then… it did. He felt his bond with the weapon fade, a feeling of loss, and it became nothing more than green sword in his fist.
Harald sighed, firming his resolve, and willed himself to bond with the Amulet. Like the Goldchops and Dawnblade, the process was almost disarmingly simple; he felt the Amulet’s essence sink into his Cosmos, and then it was part of him.
He dismissed it experimentally, then resummoned it. The Amulet appeared around his neck, the garnet face hanging over his chest.
“Convenient,” he whispered, and patted the amulet.
Time to test it.
Dawnblade in hand, he made his way up to the exit tunnel and climbed stealthily into its mouth. A dank breeze blew past him, as if the depths of the earth were exhaling, and he activated the lantern clipped to his belt, so that a warm glow illuminated the first ten or so yards.
And then, considering, he turned it off.
And moved forward cautiously into the dark.
The dreary light from behind faded away quickly. Gravel crunched underfoot. The echoes were strange, but he could sense the vastness of the tunnel around him continuing level.
It turned, the rising slope when he tried to walk straight guiding him back to center, and then the light faded away altogether and he was in darkness.
Shadow Fortitude blossomed within his breast, and a gradual upwelling of energy and resilience manifested in his being.
If only he could remain thus, in the dark, forever. He’d be endlessly fueled with stamina.
Instead, he proceeded slowly, skin prickling, Dawnblade held at the Tower, eyes wide as he stared out at pure nothingness. The darkness swarmed with vague motes of purple and red, but he was confident those were imaginary, projected by his own eyes.
Silence but for the steady crunch of his feet.
Heart pounding, head turning occasionally from one side to the other so he could listen, he proceeded along the tunnel’s base, feeling mad, feeling terribly alive, feeling like a conduit for the energy that seeped continuously into his being.
The air ahead began to lighten. Harald moved with the tunnel’s curvature once more, and when he espied the opening up ahead, he hunched over, then dropped onto all fours to crawl to the exit.
At first the huge pocket canyon was similar to the first, but quickly differences began to suggest themselves. While towering cliffs encircled it like the first, this time they were of dressed stones, with ruined columns rising up like ribs down their vast length. As if this huge space had once been a gargantuan cathedral. There wasn’t a drop like last time either, just mounds of rubble, as if the collapsed ceiling had been tidied into hills of broken stone, with paths of dirt and the occasional opening appearing between them.
In the far distance a huge archway of stone rose taller than the walls to frame a smaller portal that led to whatever space came next.
Entire chunks of this battlefield were hidden from view by the hills of broke masonry. A straight path ran from his tunnel mouth to the exit, and there were goblins in evidence, but no sign of the hobgoblins that had to be present.
Harald rubbed his jaw pensively. The goblins were present in small clusters at the back of the cavern. Some sat around small campfires, others slept, the same behavior of the bored goblins he’d seen before.
The fact that they were all held at the back no doubt indicated orders from the hobgoblins who didn’t want them dispersed and vulnerable.
That meant he could probably get close without being spotted. Could he? Harald scrutinized the pathways between the hills, and saw movement at the top of the closest.
Two goblin sentries. They crouched in the shadows of small overhang, and seemed intent on a game of dice.
Which meant there were no doubt more sentries posted atop each hill.
This was an opportunity. If Harald could get close enough to talk to them, perhaps he could sway them to his side before they could raise the alarm.
That’s when he would learn how effective the amulet was.
Harald watched the pair of goblins carefully. They’d occasionally glance his way, but his being still and hidden deeper within the tunnel meant they hadn’t seen him yet. The game they were playing seemed simple, each goblin taking a turn to throw the dice, and involved much arguing and passing small tokens back and forth depending on what they rolled.
Neither seemed to be a good loser.
Finally, his patience paid off; one exclaimed angrily as the other scooped up some tokens, the other remonstrated, and then suddenly they were exchanging blows.
Not giving himself time to think, Harald slid down over the tunnel’s lip to the rocky floor, and darted behind a nearby boulder.
He sank down out of sight, pulse pounding in his ears. No alarm was raised. After a few moments, he carefully glanced around the side of the rock.
The goblins were no longer playing, but now sat with their backs to each other, arms crossed, eyes closed.
Perfect.
Harald picked his path carefully. Almost he triggered Aching Depths for the silencing effect, but the dimming of the light might draw attention.
Instead, he darted from one pile to another, and then reached the base of the rubble hill.
How close did he have to be for his amulet to take effect? Would his Presence bonus just carry with his voice? He didn’t want to risk it, so, taking great pains, scaled the hill, placing each foot cautiously so as to not disturb the rocks or send any rolling. ;Yard by careful yard he ascended, coming up just below the goblins and to one side, till at last he didn’t think he could get any closer without alerting them.
Time to roll his own dice.
“Hey,” he whispered. “My friends! I’ve, ah, come to tell you the truth!”
Two goblin heads immediately appeared over just above, their yellow eyes narrowed suspiciously, ears drawn back. Before they could react negatively, Harald pressed on: “The hobgoblins have been stealing from you. Help me and I’ll make you rich!”
When in doubt, appeal to greed.
Both goblins stilled, then glanced at each other.
Had the Amulet worked? Had they understood him?
“How’s that?” The one on the left with an impressively angular nose studied his suspiciously. “Stealin’?”
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“Of course!” Harald adopted an expression of mock outrage. “Why do you think they have such better gear? Why do you eat the worst scraps while they feast on the best? It’s not fair. They’re taking advantage of you.”
“They do have better gear,” muttered the one on the right, whose ears were impressively large. “And they always eat the best bits of whatever we kill.”
“We should kill this one, is what we should do,” replied the first. “If we kill him quiet, like, we can eat most of him before anyone else finds out.”
“If you let me help you,” said Harald, “you’ll eat as much as you want without anyone ever stopping you again.”
They both stared at him suspiciously again. “And how would you make that work?”
The fact that they were even talking was a miracle.
“Look. You goblins need to rule yourselves. Or perhaps you both could rule instead of the hobgoblins? Picture it. Two thrones, and everyone bringing you food and… gold? To pile it up before you.”
“Hmm,” said the one with big ears dreamily.
“You didn’t answer the question,” persisted the big nosed one. “How we gonna make that happen?”
Harald tapped his temple. “But using our sharper wits. They’re big and brutish and they think they’re smart, but you two are cunning. You could run rings around them, right? So what we do is get all the goblins on your side, and then we trick the hobgoblins and kill them off. You get their gear and become kings, and everybody… will just think you’re the best for freeing them.”
They glanced at each other again.
“I’d like to be a king,” said Big ears.
“We could eat the hobgoblins,” suggested Big Nose reluctantly, then when his friend opened his eyes wide, he said it again as if it were a brilliant idea. “We could eat the hobgoblins!”
“All you need do is bring a couple of your friends to come talk with me at a time,” said Harald. “Not too many, because they might get too excited by this great idea. Just one or two. I’ll talk to them, explain how you deserve to be kings, and when we’ve got everyone on our side, we’ll come up with a plan and smash them.”
“Burst their guts!” said Big Ears excitedly.
“Crack open their bones!” said Big Nose.
“Er, yes,” agreed Harald. “Let’s creep down, and then I’ll wait for you to bring me some of your friends.”
“All right, sure,” said Big Ears, and scrambled over the side to make his way down. “Hobgoblins are a rare delicacy, you know, on account of their being so hard to get a bite out of. I’ve never had any, but Morty, a friend of mine, he did once, he and his mates came across a dead hob, killed by an orc he says, though if you ask me it was a bit too convenient, and Morty, he says the hob tasted like horsemeat.”
Big Nose made his way down after him. “Morty’s never even seen a horse.”
“Has too, but even if he hasn’t, everyone knows horses are tasty, and the point is, hob is good eating, though I imagine you’d need to roast one for a few hours, slow cook, on account of their muscles being so tough, you’d probably want to dig a pit, fill it with hot stones, see, then bury the hob in their with, I don’t know, tasty things, let it roast for a day, then ooh, can you imagine the smell when you dig him out?”
Their little trio had been making their way down but at this both goblins paused to stare soulfully at each other, throats working.
“The smell would be something special,” said Big Ears.
“And imagine it were just you,” whispered Big Nose. “And you opened up that pit and it was like soup in their, hob meat soup, all hot and bubbling with crispy fat, and then, I mean, you could just jump in…”
“Swim in hob soup! Swim in hob soup!”
“Shh,” whispered Harald, alarmed. Their voices had risen in volume from sheer excitement. “We’ll not be swimming in hob soup if they find out what we’re up to.”
Both goblins ducked their heads guiltily, and they resumed climbing down in silence.
“All right,” said Harald, peering around a large rock sticking out of the side of the hill. “I’ll wait here. Head on up to the sentries over there, and bring them to me.”
“I was about to suggest that,” sniffed Big Nose. “Let’s go, Gurty.”
The pair scampered off excitedly.
Harald ducked back down, trying not to regret the plan he’d set in moment. Nothing happened for awhile, and then he heard a babble of voices coming his way, all of them excited.
Damn.
Gurty and Big Nose must have messed up, and now the other goblins were coming in for the kill.
Harald rippled his fingers on the Dawnblade’s hilt. Should he summon the Goldchops? Not yet. He’d wait till the last moment for the element of surprise, and then -
“Hey, stranger! We brought all our friends!”
Harald froze. That sounded like Big Nose. Carefully, skin itching, he peered around the rock again.
Big Nose and Gurty beamed proudly at him from the front of a pack of a dozen goblins, all of whom were glaring suspiciously at him, weapons at the ready.
“What’re we doin’?” asked a female goblin, her face painted red. “We should be killing him right now.”
The crowd obviously agreed with her, with several goblins raising their javelins.
“No, no no no,” said Big Nose, turning and raising his hand. “He done promised us hob soup!”
Gurty nodded vigorously. “As much hob soup as we can swim in, right stranger?”
“I—yes.” Harald tried to banish the surreal feeling and sound confident. “Don’t you love hob soup? Steaming hot, and—uh—full of hob… meat?”
The other goblins all nodded suspiciously.
“He said fat crackling and crispy skin,” added Big Nose. “And gooey bits as far as the eye can see. We just gotta kill the hobs and then we’re set.”
Harald resisted the urge to hold up the amulet. Surely the fact that the new goblins hadn’t screeched and hurled the javelins was due to its influence? “Hob soup swimming holes,” said Harald. “Hob soup waterfalls?”
“Oooh,” breathed the goblins, eyes going wide.
“Hob soup… bathubs.” This seemed to be working far better than reasoning with them. “This whole place, all of it, filled to the top of the cliffs with steaming hob soup?”
“Aah,” breathed the goblins, till the red faced female frowned. “How many hobs would that take?”
“All of them,” said Big Nose confidently. “We just gotta follow this human’s plan. What’s the plan, human?”
“Yeah,” said Gurty. “What’s the plan?”
Everyone stared at him expectantly.
“We need to get the rest of your friends on our side,” said Harald hesitantly.
“Nah,” said Big Nose. “We pull them all away, the hobs’ll get suspicious. Fuck ‘em, we’ll eat them too.”
The other goblins glanced at each other, as if testing this idea out.
“Hobgob soup!” shouted Gurty, delirious with excitement.
“Hobgob soup!” They all grinned and a few shook each other from the sheer thrill of it.
“So here’s the plan,” said Harald. “You all go back to your posts. I’ll sneak in and hide. Then, Gurty, you yell at the top of your voice, ‘Humans!’ and start throwing your javelins toward the tunnel.”
“Oh, more strangers coming?” asked Gurty.
“No, that’s fake,” said Harald. “It’s just me. You’re just pretending.”
“Why am I pretending there’s more humans?” asked Gurty, perplexed.
Big Nose smacked the back of his head. “It’s his plan, innit?”
“You shout that, and everyone runs up to help kill the fake humans,” continued Harald, wondering if he was asking too much. “Then I’ll leap out from behind and attack the hobs. When you see that, you help me attack them, and when they’re dead, we all make hobgob soup.”
Gurty frowned, confused.
Big Nose stuck his thumb in his chest. “You all just do as I do. When I shout ‘invaders’, just do what the hobs told us to do, all right?”
Everyone nodded uncertainly.
“Remember,” Harald whispered. “All the hobgob soup you could dream of.”
Everyone perked back up.
“I’m going to go hide. Wait till you can’t see me, then give the shout. Clear?”
“Clear,” said Big Nose confidently. “Leave it to me, Higgup your new goblin king.”
“Great.” There was no going back now. “All right, everyone back to your posts. I’ll go hide. We’ll do this very soon.”
The goblins all nodded eagerly, except for the red faced female who stared at Harald suspiciously before scampering of with the others.
Higgup began to climb, with Gurty singing softly as he followed right behind:
“Hobgob soup for you and me,
Meaty meat from the goblin tree,
Bubbling bursts and stinky stew,
Hobgob soup for me and you.”
Harald watched them go for a moment and tried envisioning his recounting this tale to his friends.
They’d only stare at him.
Uneasy yet hopeful, he jogged deeper into the cavern, waving back covertly at sentries who’d just resumed their posts, finger going to his lips whenever any of them cupped their hands to their mouths to yell something down at him.
He needed a good hiding spot. A crack or a small cave, perhaps—
“Fake strangers!” screamed Gurty, sounding horribly excited. “Humans! Hobgob soup!”
Harald winced.
All the other sentries immediately took up the cry and began shouting as loudly as they could.
“Humans!”
“Soup!”
“We’re been attacked!”
“I’m dying! I’m dying!”
“Fuck.” Harald stared around at the tops of the closest hills. The goblins were leaping about, some banging pans with spoons, others waving their weapons exuberantly. The closest pair grinned at him, and one winked slyly.
Harald darted toward the side of the cavern. The hobbos would no doubt be horribly confused by this sudden and abrupt clamor that had descended on all the sentries at once. Being smart and disciplined, they’d not just come rushing out to the fore.
Harald leaped over some fallen rocks, coming close to the huge wall, and then curved around the base of a last hill, climbing up its slope some where it flowed flush against the wall.
They’d no doubt emerge cautiously, confused and suspicious. They’d probably send the loyal goblins out to see what was going on, and only advance slowly as they waited a report.
The loyal goblins would talk to the corrupted ones, and…? Harald couldn’t guess. Would the idea of hobgob soup be enough to recruit them to their side? Would they run back to the hobgoblins out of fear of being punished?
There wasn’t time to find out.
Harald worked his way into the cavern while hugging the wall. The going was rough, as clearly the dungeon had wanted him to follow the central approach, but he persisted, trying to marry speed with caution.
The sentries had settled into a repetitive chant, all of them yelling out happily at the same time: “Hu-mans, soup! Hu-mans, soup!”
It probably made sense to them.
Maybe.
Harald made it past the halfway point and began to slow down. He put the goblins out of his mind. They were just going to cause chaos no matter what, now; he needed to focus on the only threat that mattered, and to do so, he needed to ensure the element of surprise.
There were three more hills set flush against the cathedral walls that curved toward the distant exit. The hobbos could be waiting past any of them. So Harald treated each remaining hill as if it were the last, creeping and climbing carefully, following ledges and walking on larger boulders when he could, and wincing as he dislodged rocks or pebbles.
He surmounted the first, saw nothing below, took a moment to watch the central approach incase the hobbos marched into view, then quickly made his way down, leaped the last few yards, and hurried to the second hill. This one was massive and partially built from huge gray slabs of stone that looked to have been part of the cathedral ceiling. Angular and geometric, it was far easier to climb, but the sight of an alert and curious goblin at the top shielding her eyes as she stared off toward her yelling fellows made it so that he crept only around the base, not daring to get her attention.
Luckily the repeated shouts of ‘soup’ were far more interesting to her than any scuffling sounds he might make.
Hardly daring to breath, Harald made his way around the hill, a large rock blocking his sight of the sentry, and when the moment was opportune, carefully leaned out to gaze into the next valley below.
Seven hobgoblins had moved to the far side of the hill, as close to the central avenue as they could get without revealing themselves. Two of them were arguing with each other, while the other five had bows drawn and arrows nocked.
They looked to be waiting for some manner of report.
In the far distance the chanting had grown ecstatic and barely intelligible. Mostly it just sounded like the goblins were screaming ‘soup’ in every drawn out cries, as if seeing who could put the most emotion into the word.
Harald bit his lower lip, considered, and saw that the hobgoblins had pressed in just below a ledge that jutted out some fifteen feet above them.
The plan came to Harald fully formed.
He just had to get to that ledge unnoticed.