Garrick was still aching from the fight with Krobber, his body sore and tired. It didn’t help that the hobgoblins were plucking him around. They shoved him inside the office of the grey-haired hob, once again he landed on his on the carpet that led to the desk.

He huffed heavily, gathering his breath together.

“Mr. Grubbub, back so soon.” said the Overseer, he appeared imposing from where grubbub lay, glaring down at him from behind the tall wooden desk, cluttered with papers and strange trinkets.

“Lord overseer, sir, I–” he began. The overseer cut him off, using his finger to indicate that he should be silent.

“ah..ah…You’ve caused the ruckus down there,” the man complained, his tone low and threatening. “But brawling I expected better from you? I thought you were a savant when it came to your craft.”

“The craft of hitting rocks?” he blurted out.

The man was silent, as if had just made a great discovery.

“Where did that attitude come from, hmmm,” he pondered. Looking Garrick all over.” It's unnatural for a green to show an attitude, especially when it’s conditioned from birth not to hit its master.”

Garrick became tense, he realized he may have just made a mistake. He should choose his words carefully from now on.

The man leans forward, locking his eyes with Garrick. “Just what happened to you when you were thrown down that well, they say you’ve become as smart as us overnight. The other department refuses to let me know anything but no matter.”

The overseer was an authority figure not to be trusted, he did make Grubbub pay back 7 times the amount that was stolen. Needlessly cruel. He could draw parallels to the corporations that pillaged the earth in his lifetime.

“Listen carefully, you’ve been banned from the mines. It’s clear that you do not fit in with your peers, and I can’t afford more trouble when the Goblin king’s council is breathing down my neck. There are humans on our border’s Grubbub, do you know what that means.”

The first thought Garrick thought was war and conflict, they did keep humans as a slave class here. There was history at work, he did not know of.

“Ethnic tension?”

The overseer started laughing.

“Ethnic tension? My my, you did more than stub that little head of yours didn’t you, did some devil possess you grubbub? Is someone else in there?”

Maybe he should've just shut the fuck up, he made the same mistake twice.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Regardless, war may very well be on the horizon, I need order in those mines, I need pumping iron and flowing gold, mithril possibly if the gods bless us. Which means no more chaos in the mines.”

Grubbub sighed, did he start the aggression? Or was he just defending himself?

“You’re being moved Mr. Grubbub, you are hereby conscripted into the army,” Garrick froze, he was going to fight, actually fight, that was the last thing he wanted. “You have no say in this, it’s compliance or exile. I’m sure a little smart thing like you know how dangerous the world outside the stronghold is.”

He nodded.

“Tell me one thing?” The man leaned even closer. “Did you have a run-in with the princess from the east?”

The goblin princess. He wasn't going to throw need-to-know stuff around, who knew how the man would react if they found out he touched the princess?

“And if I’m not allowed to say anything.”

“That will serve as an answer as well,” The man stood up. “Before you go I want to give a little lesson in the structure that encompasses goblin society”

“I’m listening, sir.”

“Hierarchy exists for a reason, without it, there is nothing but chaos. Occasionally outliers like you appear and the whole system either topples over or changes. I can see the little ample mana you possess, how you attained it, is not my business. But you have the hallmarks of being able to evolve. My days as a shaman, still allow me to see the world beyond the veil.”

Garrick was shocked, he could change. What would he change into, Red and tall like them? Or something different.

“Without structure Mr. Grubbbub we revert to barbarians. When you break the rules. You may as well be a barbarian. Uphold structure if you can, do not stand out too much, or else someone will cut off your wings before you learn to fly.”

It was unwarranted education he thought. He has seen enough in his previous lifetime.

“Now then, off you go, you’re new life awaits you. I’m sure you’ll find your way to the barracks. And leave the gold you have saved up, it is being confiscated, your fees for causing a mess.”

That was state-mandated robbery, the man let power flow to his head.

The Overseer waved him off in a dismissive manner. He had barely enough time to process his new circumstances before he was hustled out so to speak.

As he walked to the long corridors of the Overseer’s building, he couldn’t help but wonder what the future had in store for him. Life as a conscript was sure to be a difficult endeavor-- perhaps this was an opportunity, a way out. No point crying about the past, what ifs, and could-be’s.

As he gets back to the sleeping chambers, he takes his old possessions out of a drawer, he rummages through the few items he owned. Mostly his old rags and some crude tools. All useless opinion, he knew as a soldier he would receive new clothing, maybe better pay.

He took a small stash of coins–he had withdrawn earlier, and tucked the money in his pockets, might come in handy later.

Just as he prepares to leave, Wynald, One of Grubbub’s so-called friends appears at the door. “Heard rumors that ya got in trouble again,” The man said with a wide smirk.

Some part of him reminded him of John who he spent two months living with. Was there a place in this world to have real friends with? Those two were not ‘his’ friends.

“I’m being conscripted Wynald.”

The tall goblin sighed.

“I knew sooner or later, something would happen to yuh, but at least it's a good thing.”

He wouldn’t call conscription a good thing.

“Yes, my one-way ticket of those fucking mines.”

“You always loved the mines, the rocks, and even the food. What changed man…”

“Everything.” He finished but refused to elaborate.

The giant green walked him in the direction of the infantry barracks. Finally, out of the hell hole called the mining district, Garrick breathed a breath of fresh air. It was simply calm before the next storm. If the little fight he had with Krobber, and the encounter with the well beast was any indication, then he was entering a world of violence and pain.

The barracks were a foreboding training ground, he could hear the harsh voice of goblins marching, sparring, and ultimately preparing for war. When they arrive, the big man pats Garrick on the back.

“Good luck, Grub or whoever you choose to be now.” the giant turned. “Do come around every now and then, soldiers and guards get much more lenient rights than the worker class. We might get the same times off”

He nodded, feeling slightly bad. He had taken their friend's body, place, and life. He knew they felt weird about his behavior. Perhaps he could make it up in the future.

As the man called Wynald left, he started feeling less attached to the life of Grubbub, it was beginning to disappear. He had to hold on to that identity for a while, the road ahead was perilous, and he needed every ounce of will he could muster.