Day 1: Garrick was lined up with a dozen young goblins, most fresher and younger than he was. Though they were scrappy and too confident, something he thought was a curse. Their officer arrived and he was surprised it wasn’t a hobgoblin but a green goblin like them. However, he was unusually tall and had well-developed features. Not typical of most goblins.
The recruits in their boredom had started hurling insults at each other, including trying to get him into the fray. Their officer had ordered them to stop, and an unfortunate joker who thought authority didn’t mean anything to him, was briefly lashed and strung up like a hangman for a few hours.
After being fed a pleasant enough meal, they had been ordered to run along the training ground field, which was around a few hectares. No resting was allowed, only being able to stop once they collapsed. This training was vastly different from mine work, where they had been allowed to stop at a certain time. Here they needed to do more than was expected of them. At nightfall, Garrick almost missed the soup supper that was served and had nearly slept outside in the cold the whole night.
He was awakened by a ‘familiar laugh’ and returned to the barracks shortly after.
Day 2: On the following day, they were taken to a secured room, In the center of the room a small orb hovered in the air. The instructor explained that it was a device that measured their battle power. Their goal at the end of the training sessions was to reach a battlepower close to 50. What that meant was way too vague to discern.
'It' had slowed time again, explaining to Garrick that it was probably for the best, to try and suppress his mana. Garrick listened, not contesting it as the shadow figure had gotten him through more than one situation with his head attached. His BP had registered much lower than the others, 15, and led to wild mockery from his fellow recruits. He wonders however if he had made the right choices, by hiding what he was capable of. Some of the more ‘talented’ goblins were escorted somewhere for some reason. Likely to receive special training.
Day 3: The third day was the most brutal so far, they had been forced to do strength training–Lifting massive logs and running disorienting obstacle courses, the very little recovery time he had, he had spent eating and sleeping. He had become acquainted with the newfound recruits but he refrained from forming real bonds with any of them, They were a crass bunch and he didn’t fit into the cog. No esprit de corps is to be found here.
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Day 4: During weight training, someone had been crushed under the heavy machinery during weight lifting, his body had been retrieved by cleaners, and taken away, and not even a ceremony was held for him.
Only a toast was made to him during the evening. Garrick couldn’t help but compare the lives of goblins to a hive or a collective swarm, In this society, only the hobgoblins seem to have the most rights and privileges.
He felt unsettled by the incident, even back on the penal brig, a dead person’s body would be honored by whatever means the state could provide. Even if corruption and fund mismanagement lead to lackluster funerals. What bothered him more was everyone’s nonchalant attitude to it.’
Day 5: They had begun learning the basics of melee fighting such as daggers or swords. Only those who proved their ability to be precise were allowed to wield a bow. A recruit lost his right hand in an accident, due to not listening to proper precautions. Every horrible mishap a goblin finds himself in, Garrick would make a mental note. Reckless, lack of discipline, and above all chaotic. Even occasionally the instructors would make a serious mishap. However, he would not let it prevent him from proving his worth as an Asset.
Day 6: Today was a rare day for Garrick, they had given time off. Rest and recuperation. He was given the opportunity to explore the stronghold bar of the hobgoblin district, Even invited into a rowdy tavern by his sapper and guard ‘friends.’ Grubbub’s friends. They had a meal together, and played a game of cards, a little bit of camaraderie. Despite his reluctance to dwell on Grubbub’s life he still carries the identity around like a husk.
Day 7: A fist-fighting tournament had been held, and Garrick had ended up punching way above his weight class. The semi-finals, and he found himself face to face with a goblin taller and stronger than even Krobber.
In this fight, he saw no reason to hold back on mana, he had learned earlier that most goblins did it instinctively. As he engaged in combat, he managed to push his opponent to submission but was not immune to punches himself. Garrick was knocked out, a runner’s up token given to him, He vowed to be to become stronger.
Day 8: Every recruit was forcefully awoken by two very loud bells constantly ringing. The emergency bell, which was only meant to be rung if in a great crisis. He already knew what it was. War was on the horizon, They were all ordered to arm themselves with badly mounted weapons. A recruit who attempted to desert was cut down by force. A reflection of goblin life, Garrick thought those who do not obey are cut down.
As they marched in formation to the stronghold’s walls, Garrick played witness to all manner of weaponry in the possession of Kara dum, siege equipment, catapults and baristas, chained trolls, and giant men. Forced to fight in the frontline, wolf-like beasts, ridden by wild goblin riders, arrival mercenary companies, who are offering their lives for coin.
An anxiety rested firmly in his heart, he didn’t know if he would make it out of this one. However, before they reach the battlefield, two hobgoblins intercepted his group, announcing their search for him. The goblin princess is looking for him and although in fright of his life, he speaks up. Agreeing to go with them. Perhaps he gets to live another day.