( Jormund POV )

In the morning light, it all seems a bit more manageable. After all, it’s basically what we wanted, just... with a few extras. We’ll battle the goblin tribe - I bet the wolfkin will be damn good at that - and afterwards we’ll lend a hand as needed. Not too hard. After all, it’ll probably be as much to our benefit as theirs.

No need to worry.

I just hope the rest of the tribe take it calmly. It’ll probably be fine. Ralnt left soon after the decision was made to go and gather our hunters back at the village and prepare them for the attack on the goblin hollow; with his memory for terrain he’s probably halfway home by now.

I grab a bite to eat, and head back towards the fireplace where I last left Trai. It seems a long time ago, somehow. Damn wolfkin drugs.

Surprisingly, he hasn’t moved. I don’t remember him at the Conclave, come to think of it.

"Good morning, Trai! What are the competitors up to?"

"Garuu’s almost finished, as far as I can tell. I’ve no idea when Kali will be finished, though - I can’t follow his methods at all. Could be weeks, for all I know."

He seems slightly dejected by the admission, and I suspect he’s unused to failing to understand the work of others. I nod to him, and wander over to inspect the goblin’s work. Despite Trai’s misgiving, the hefty bone handle in his hands is recognisable as a weapon component, and appears complete. It’s curved oddly, with unnatural ridges and furrows to better fit in the hand, and is quite unlike anything I’ve seen before. Currently, however, it is unadorned by any axehead. More work needed.

Then, I’m interrupted by a roar.

"Manpup! Get over here!"

I spin towards Garuu, holding an axe in his left hand and looking supremely cheerful.

"Progress goes well! Unlike your goblin pet, I can finish a weapon before the war party leaves. Now, I need to know whether the grip is right for you before I do the final binding."

The axe he hands me lies heavy in my hand. It has heft enough to crack anything I hit with it, and the balance feels good - a strong weighting towards the head, perfect for sudden, violent blows. The thought leaves me feeling a little strange. Not so long ago, I wouldn’t have found such qualities so appealing.

"This feels... good. Very good. Dangerous. Give me a minute, I’ll take a few swings with it on those tree stumps, see how it hold up."

"Not yet! I want to finish up the joint, make sure the head doesn’t come off the first time you hit anything! Shouldn’t take too long!"

He throws another scornful look at the goblin, sitting with only a handle to show for a night’s effort. With a start, I realise Trai has appeared behind me, silent as the breeze.

"If you’re looking for a sparring partner later, just call. I’m intrigued to see how the weapon fares."

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( Kali POV )

I finish the plate that will hold the head and handle together, working swiftly so that the treated chitin doesn’t set before I’m done. Excellent stuff, this chitin. Never used to have enough, back in the hollow, because the hunters used to leave it behind so they could carry more trophies. Fools! The things I could have made, if I hadn’t been hamstrung by their ambition! I could have made ten weapons like this!

Swiftly, ever so swiftly, I take the malleable plate and force it into the clay negative, feeling it stretch and compress into the mould beneath my fingers. I pack more clay on top, so that the moisture in the chitin will be kept in as it bakes. We wouldn’t want the chitin to dry out, oh no. If it burns, it’ll be ruined!

I pick up the clay block, and carefully place it into my small, hot firepit, where the clay will bake to brittleness and the chitin will harden into the single, complex plate I need. I note where the sun’s shadow lies, and where it will be when the I must remove the mould. Time to stretch my legs and grab a bite to eat.

Wait. Kali has missed something! Ah! The sun has risen. I... hadn’t actually noticed. Definitely time for food.

At the larger campfire I find the old crafter and one of the wolfkin that escorted us to the cave. Damn! I was hoping for the human! At least he doesn’t want to eat me! The crafter leers at me.

"That doesn’t look like an axe, goblin. It seems I’ll get your skull, sooner rather than later. Feel free to let me know when you’re ready to give up! I’ll make it quick."

"It’s not finished, you impatient hairball! I need the mould to bake. From there I have a solid base from which to build, layers of hardened chitin that will form the blade itself!"

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"That means nothing to us, goblin, and it sounds like you’re making it up to save your own skin."

"Bah! You wolfkin know nothing of these subtle crafts! I’ll slowly add more layers of Kundrika chitin, one upon the other, sharpening each as I go, building up a head that cuts better and weighs less than your simple designs! Lighter, stronger, cuttier! Better! Oh, and I still need to finish the Origan hides for the grip. That’s simpler, though. You might even understand that bit."

I glare at them as menacingly as I can, which I suspect is not very. Garuu’s axe is better than I had expected, much better. I’ll win, but he is undoubtedly far faster than me. I hope they don’t run out of patience.

Nobody has the patience for true perfection. Not the hunters, the fang-takers, the other crafters, definitely not the anklebiters. And not the wolfkin. And probably not the humans, either.

They just want good enough, not the best.

I wrench a bite of the food I snatched from the fire. Perhaps, if I give them just a few juicy secrets, it might buy their interest. And buy me some time.

"Hmm. Afterwards, I need to prepare a new herb mixture. It’s to protect the chitin from fungus. Less of a problem up here in the sunlight, but good in the hollow. And in your wolfden, I suppose. If you like, I’ll show you. It’s simple. You can understand it."

Apparently this is not a completely winning pitch. Garuu raises an eyebrow in what might be polite interest. Oh well, keep going. He hasn’t eaten me yet, hmm.

"I’ll have some time to spend while each layer of chitin hardens. If you’ve anything that needs mending, I’ll take a look."

This, at least, seems to catch the younger’s interest. Alas, he’s too slow to inquire further, before he’s interrupted, and my heart sinks. Almost.

"What? How long is this all going to take?! All this for one weapon! I could outfit a whole hunting party in this time!"

"Outfit them with junk! I saw you make your axe, and it’s taken all night for a single decent weapon! So leave my methods alone and quiet your howling: It’ll take just shy of a full day of work, and no breaks or interruptions! If I pause, if I leave it, if I miss the right moment to sharpen or let it harden just a little too much, it’ll be ruined! Brittle, or flawed, and you can’t have that for battlefield equipment! Not unless you want to end up like the hunter goblins, all cut up and cut down by the humans! If they’d let Kali make their tools and armour right, the humans wouldn’t have won, oh no! So, let me do my work! Watch but don’t distract!"

I finish my meal and lick my fingers clean. The sun has shifted, and it’s time to carefully extract the mould from my makeshift firepit...

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( Trai POV )

The goblin is gingerly shattering off little pieces of that lump of clay he jammed into his embers, using a rock to avoid burning himself. Every now and then he nods to himself, or sings a little song. I’m not exactly an expert on goblin facial expressions, but apparently whatever he’s doing has turned out satisfactorily.

After all his explanations, I somehow feel dumber and more confused than when he started. Every sentence was its own enigma, full of concepts I couldn’t grasp and words I’d forgotten as soon as they had left his mouth. Not just normal incomprehension, but something more profound.

From Garuu’s expression it seems I’m not the only one.

"You know, I don’t think that you are going to get the little guy’s skull. It seems we’ll have to take other opportunity to replenish our stock of goblin craniums."

The old guy turns towards me, his earlier scorn replaced by bemusement.

"I think you might just be right."

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( Jormund POV )

I reach for the axes that hang from my belt, still unaccustomed to their weight. It somehow feels easier to just carry them in my hands. It feels right.

In my right I hold Garuu’s axe. It’s the larger of the two, a great unstoppable force of flint and bone. When it lands a blow, it’ll finish an opponent before the fight even starts. The heavy axehead is secured to the haft by complex patterns of sinew rope. It’s the finest weapon anyone in the tribe has ever held. Bar one.

In my left is Kali’s creation. Garuu’s weaponry is better than any in my tribe, but this... thing is of a different tier entirely.

The head is seemingly a single piece of chitin, shaped to deliver long, deep cuts through flesh and bone alike. The handle, which measures only slightly longer than my forearm, is slightly curved towards the back of the axe head, giving it as close to perfect balance as I’ve ever heard of.

Because of its strange construction, it’s light, too. I can slash with it three times in the time I could hit once with the other hand, each with as deadly an effect.

It’s barely a weapon. I’m more reminded of a predator, waiting for the taste of blood.

Remembering the way Garuu acted after the results of their bet, I grin to myself.

The old wolfkin kept following the goblin around to try and learn some of Kali’s secrets. Alas, the goblin is an awful teacher. He’s also an even worse prisoner. Garuu damn near fell to his knees and asked for Kali to teach him, and the little git’s been insufferable ever since.

Still, perhaps this is not such a bad thing. Kali’s been a lot more talkative. Which I guess is a good thing? He explained the layout of the goblin hollow without a second thought. I feel slightly guilty that we’re going to use the information to slaughter his tribe. And that I’ll be using his axe.

When I asked him where they had a way of healing my father, he admitted that he didn’t know. Apparently his grandfather might. It’s not much, but it’s the last hope I’ve got left, as the wolfkin have no more idea than I do.

So, to war. We’re moving towards the hollow, the forest - and victory - ahead.

The entirety of the wolfkin tribe is following the alpha and I, as is Forgu and the rest. To my left, Kali’s sticking close to me. He seems curiously unperturbed, given what’s coming. It’s not like it’s a secret, either. I refrain from asking why he left.

I grip the axes tightly and increase my pace, offering a silent prayer to the Lady of Jade.

Give me the strength to protect those close to me.

Time to bring the goblins to battle once more.