by Pirateaba
The other warrior was a normal-sized Goblin with a scar over his face. He was one of the elite Redfang warriors and Rags had already privately dubbed him Redscar. Of all the Goblins present, she was only really concerned about his faction. The others were smaller or behind her all the way like Pyrite. But the Redfang warriors were an independent lot and she didn’t know if they trusted her or she could trust them.
Rags stood. The Goblins waited for her to speak. She nodded, and then spoke in their tongue.
I am Chieftain.
It needed to be said. The other Goblins nodded, the mountain Hob and Redscar slowest of the lot. Rags noted this, and went on.
This tribe is Goblin.
Another easy statement, and all the nods were quick this time. This tribe was Goblin. They’d fought for it. Only Rags’ leadership was disputed. She thought about this, and then pointed in a random direction.
“If you not like…go over there.”
All the Goblins turned and looked. Rags shook her head.
“Not there. Go away.”
It was an unusual statement. Normally Goblins didn’t abandon their tribes no matter what. If they had an issue they challenged the Chieftain or left with as many Goblins as they could gather to form a new tribe. However, since this was in itself a challenge the breakaway Goblins usually had to fight to leave their tribe. But Rags was telling the others to just go if they had their differences.
All the Goblins present considered this. Rags looked from face to face, frowning when she saw the old Goblin. Why was he even here? But maybe Pyrite had brought him. He seemed to know the old one. And after meeting Noears, Rags realized some Goblins were hiding their true natures.
Noears. There was another thing to think about. Rags knew nothing about him other than that he could cast powerful spells and he had once been targeted by Tremborag. Was he loyal?
Time would tell. Rags pointed to Pyrite.
“He is big Hob. He tell my orders.”
Pyrite looked vaguely surprised, but the other Goblins looked willing to accept this, even Redscar. Every Chieftain needed a few Hobs who were competent enough to follow orders. Pyrite was the best choice.
That done, Rags waited for the other Goblins to speak. Something had brought them here. At last, the mountain Hob spoke.
“Chieftain. Will we fight Tremborag’s forces?”
He had the same clear diction of the other Goblins from Tremborag’s tribe. It was too Human-sounding for Rags’ taste. She scowled.
“Hope not.”
“Chieftain. Where are we going?”
“Away.”
“What will we be doing?”
“Goblin thing.”
This answer clearly didn’t please the Goblins who’d lived in Tremborag’s tribe. But what did he expect? Pyrite just smiled and the old Goblin cackled. Even Redscar grinned.
“This is how Goblins act. She is true Goblin, Goblin Chieftain Rags!”
The old Goblin slapped the younger Hob on the back. He turned and glared, but Rags just nodded.
“I am Chieftain. I decide. You go. I think!”
This was how Goblins worked. The Chieftain made decisions—sometimes at random, and the tribe adapted. Some Chieftains were better than others—Rags knew Garen was famous for his split-second decisions which forced his Hobs to scramble to keep up. But she would have a plan. A good one.
If only she could figure out what it was.
While she waited for one to appear, Rags took a circuit of the camp. The stolen weapons were piled in a wagon, not touched by any Goblins yet although she saw some warriors eying them. But they were smart enough to realize that they would probably get weapons in the end and that stealing them would earn a thumping from one of the Hobs who had an eye on the wagon.
Next? Cooking. Rags found a brunch being cooked up from one of the horses who’s broken an ankle in the snow. She regretted losing such a valuable animal, but it did taste good.
And last? Rags went to see the Human women.
They’d entrenched themselves a way away from the Goblins. They were a bit pathetic, in Rags’ opinion. They huddled together, sitting at one of the fires that the Goblins had had to build for them. And they didn’t want any Goblins coming near them, especially not any males. The only ones who could approach were female Goblins with food…or Pyrite.
Rags approached them now. She saw one of them—a Human adventurer by the looks of her—holding her sword, but she didn’t flinch. She walked up to her, as she seemed to be the one in charge.
She was battered. She must have been captured in the attack on the town. Rags had no idea if she was a Gold-rank adventurer, but she’d been attacked by the Goblin warriors who’d hit her repeatedly. She was still recovering, although Rags thought some Hob might have given her a potion for her injuries.
The woman stared at her warily with the rest of the women. Rags stopped in front of her and held out her bare hands. The woman saw she was unarmed and released the grip on her sword hilt.
“Mm. Understand me?”
All the Humans jumped. Rags rolled her eyes. How could they not know Goblins could speak? The adventurer stared at her.
“I…do. Who are you?”
Her voice was hoarse and she had to cough as she spoke. Rags pointed at her chest.
“Chieftain.”
Another incredulous look. They stared at Rags, and then at Pyrite, sitting and eating fried horse meat by a fire. The Goblin sighed again. Humans. Did they think biggest was always best?
She gestured to the camp, speaking slowly so they could understand.
“Not harm. No harm. Follow. Eat. Live.”
“Why?”
The adventurer stared at Rags, wanting to hope, but not quite daring to. Rags smiled. She tapped her chest.
“I am Goblin. True Goblin.”
They stared at her as if they didn’t understand, but Rags was used to that. She’d dealt with Erin more than enough times. She stood up and left. So long as they didn’t cause trouble, that was fine.
Human women. After meeting them Rags was decided. She had to ditch them as soon as possible. She was aware of what they’d gone through and even sympathetic—saving them had been the right move. But they were slow, suspicious, and they ate food Rags’ tribe would need. In short, they were fairly useless to Goblins.
But they would be useful because they were Humans. And Rags’ tribe hadn’t harmed them. In fact, they’d rescued them. The beginnings of an idea stole into the young Goblin’s mind and she smiled.
It was time for a daring plan. She went to Pyrite. He was sleeping. So Rags found Noears instead. He was busy eating and chattering to another Goblin with a band of feathers tied to a staff. Another magic-user? Rags would investigate later. She pointed at Noears.
“Where Human cities?”
He stood up and showed her. It turned out that Noears had taken a detour from the others when fleeing the mountain. He hadn’t gone for supplies or anything else—instead, he’d gone to the war room where the Goblins planned their attacks and stolen all the maps. Rags cackled with glee as he spread them out on a wagon.
“Here, here, and here, Chieftain.”
The map was the first real picture Rags had ever seen of the continent. She stared avidly at it, noting how the Human cities were all dispersed a good distance away from each other—except in the north, where they were quite clustered in some places. There were far less cities the closer they came to the High Passes, indicative no doubt of how far the Humans had settled.
There were several cities close to them. Rags looked at Noears. He was watching her intently, gauging her, she guessed.
“Most dangerous?”
He thought and pointed. Rags looked at the cities nearest to their position, shaking her head at some, nodding at others.
“What kind of death?”
That was a very Goblin question. Noears answered it in a very Human way.
“[Knights] and [Riders], Chieftain. Very fast. They run
down Goblins with lances. Strong mages, but not many leave walls. Cities have armies. Riding patrols are common.”
Rags frowned. That was a lot more than she’d grown accustomed to around Liscor. Patrols were regularly sent from the city, but only to weed out monsters. They didn’t have mobile forces.
Still, if her idea worked they wouldn’t need to fight any Humans. And if they did…Rags patted at her pouch. She still had the gem of [Terror]. She hadn’t had much call to use it against Goblins—it was ineffective—but it could give the Humans a good scare.
“Good. We move soon! Go tell others!”
She gave Noears the task of poking the others awake and getting the tribe moving. It was time to put her idea into action. They headed straight for the nearest Human city, a few hour’s march away. It was going to be a dangerous plan, but almost all Goblin plans were dangerous.
Behind her, a vast army of Goblins was no doubt on its way to kill Rags and her tribe. Well, so what? She sneered at Tremborag’s might. He could kill Gold-rank adventurers in seconds…which was really scary and impressive. But she didn’t need lots of muscles. She was going to beat all his elite warriors with her head.
—-
The Human city was named Merendia, or perhaps Balum. Or was it Ostegrast? Rags didn’t know, and she was annoyed by the way the other Goblins from Tremborag’s tribe argued about it. Who cared what it was called? It was a Human city. That was all the context you needed.
And it had a lot of Humans in it. And high walls. And as Rags stared up at it, she couldn’t help but notice all the Humans with bows who shouted and raised the alarm as they saw the Goblin tribe appearing out of the plains and marching towards them.
They thought it was an attack. And even as Rags watched, a mounted force rode out of the gates. Men and women in armor, armed with the long lances she’d heard of but never seen in person. A mobile force, quite unlike the forces Drakes employed. They didn’t get along as well with horses.
It was a formidable force, even without the adventurers Rags spotted on the walls, practically aglow with magic. More than one Goblin in Rags’ tribe gulped, especially the ones who weren’t actually warriors. But Rags ordered them to move forwards without fear.
In the ordinary way of things Rags guessed the Humans would have let them approach while they blasted them with spells and rained arrows on their heads. The cavalry would hit the tribe from the flanks and the adventurers would kill scores of Goblins and all the Hobs themselves.
It would be a massacre. If Rags were stupid enough to attack the city. Which she wasn’t.
She laughed with delight as the Humans stared at her tribe crossing the main road leading out of the city. Why did the Goblin army cross the road? Quite literally to get to the other side. But why hadn’t they done that away from the city? Already the Humans were reconsidering their approach. The mounted force was circling Rags’ tribe at a distance. They weren’t about to let this many Goblins get away where they could attack smaller villages or settlements.
A [Mage] on the walls was getting ready for a big spell, Rags could tell. She tensed, wondering if the Humans hadn’t seen yet. She didn’t want her tribe to lose any Goblins today—
A cry went up from the mounted force as they circled Rags’ marching Goblins. A cluster of them raced towards the town, their riders standing up in their stirrups and shouting at the Humans on the walls. In Rags’ vision the [Mage] stopped casting the spell and she sighed in relief.
Why did the Humans not attack this tribe? The answer was simple. From their perspective, the Goblins had hostages.
Hundreds of Human women, no doubt captives of the Goblins, made to do unspeakable things. That was broadly true, and Rags did consider the Humans as valuable shields. But not a shield in the sense of having hostages.
The Humans had stirred when seeing the city. They’d begun to look hopeful, but as they’d seen the army pouring out of the gates, they’d begun staring at the Goblins, wondering if they were going to be held captive. Rags saw the female adventurer leading them looking at the Goblins and at the cavalry, clearly wondering if she and her friends could make a break for it.
That was why Rags had positioned her tribe so they were in front of the Humans in the city. She rode towards the women on her Carn Wolf as they halted in place. They stared at her in fear and the adventurer gripped her sword.
“Goblin. We wish to go to that city. Do you understand? If you let us go, we will promise not to attack your tribe.”
The woman called out to Rags, looking from her to the walls again. Rags stared down at her, and then nodded genially.
“Good. Do.”
The adventurer’s head turned back to towards Rags and her face went slack as if she couldn’t quite believe what she’d heard. She clearly hadn’t expected Rags to agree that easily. She looked at Rags.
“Do you want…money? Food? A ransom?”
“No. Go. But off wagons.”
Rags had no intention of letting the Human women keep the horses or the wagons. She made gentle shooing gestures even as the adventurer stared at her.
“Go, go. No need for Humans. Too slow. Eat too much. Also ugly. Go, go.”
Half the women stirred at that, but Rags just kept waving her hands, repeating her gestures. The adventurer stared at Rags, but after a moment she seemed to realize that the Goblin was being genuine, even if the reasons escaped her.
What must the Humans on the walls of the city think, to see the Human captives dismounting and slowly forming a group which marched towards them, away from the evil Goblin tribe? Rags had no idea. But she had her tribe march double-time, crossing the road and moving further into the wilderness.
It was purely a diversionary tactic. Distracted by the Humans, the city was only too willing to avoid a fight. As soon as a good bit of distance had been put between the tribe and the women, the cavalry immediately closed in. They formed a wall between the tribe and the captives, which handily let Rags’ tribe go on its merry way. The Humans on the walls were shouting, rushing about, no doubt preparing to receive these women.
But another cry went up when they saw the lone Goblin turn from the already distant tribe of Goblins and ride towards the women. Humans gripped their bows, but they didn’t fire. Because, of course, this was one lone Goblin, hardly a threat even if she was riding a Carn Wolf. And the Humans were gripped by a trait of their species, which was curiosity.
Rags rode back towards the Human women, ignoring the mounted warriors who spread out, encircling her. They might have tried to pull her off her mount—in which case Rags had the gem of [Terror] clutched in one sweaty hand ready to use—but the adventurer called out and stopped them.
“See? Humans go.”
That was what the Goblin said as she pulled her Carn Wolf to a stop a few paces away from the Human woman. The wolf huffed and sniffed at the adventurer, but she looked up at Rags without fear.
“You let us go. And the other Goblin—he liberated us in that mountain. Why?”
“True Goblins.”
Rags said it again and this time the adventurer seemed to understand. She hesitated, and then bowed her head.
“We owe you a debt. But you are Goblins…”
In short, still scum to be exterminated from the face of the earth. Rags nodded, still genial. Then she pointed at the Human adventurer, at her bruised face.
“Bad Goblin did this. Bad Goblin.”
The woman stiffened. Then she nodded. Hatred burned in her eyes.
“Yes. He lives in the mountain. I will remember his face.”
Rags pointed the way they’d come.
“Mountain Goblins. Yes. Big tribe. Big leader. Great Chieftain. Tremborag.”
The woman started.
“Tremborag? A Goblin with a name?”
“Yes.”
Rags nodded energetically. She waved her arms to show the other Humans—warrior types who’d drawn closer out of curiosity and their squad’s leader, who looked fiercely interested i
n what she was saying.
“Tremborag. Very scary. Strong. Fought in Goblin war. With Goblin King.”
A susurration went through the Humans. Rags liked that word. Susurration. It was a word that meant gasping and muttering and meaningful looks to one another. The adventurer looked pale.
“Thank you for telling me this. He will be…we will do what is necessary.”
They’d make a big army and attack him. But Rags wasn’t done. She pointed in the direction of the mountain, visible in the distance.
“Mountain. Great Chieftain.”
“Yes?”
The woman frowned, clearly wondering why Rags was repeating herself. Rags grinned and pointed south.
“Goblin Lord.”
Another gasp, but this time there was less surprise. Rags saw the Human woman frowning, and then reaching a conclusion.
“They’re…going to join forces?”
Close enough. The look on the other Human’s faces was priceless. Rags nodded, pretending to look concerned. Then she waved at Human.
“Goodbye.”
“What? Oh—you’re going?”
Rags nodded. She eyed the riders. They clearly weren’t sure if they should let her go. Honor was one thing, but she was a Goblin after all. The adventurer looked from Rags to the mounted warriors and called out.
“Please, let her go. She rescued us. I don’t think she’s…hostile.”
“But Miss—”
“You heard her. I’ll make an exception. I take full responsibility for this decision. Part ranks!”
Their leader called out. The riders moved aside and Rags nodded to the adventurer. The woman stared at Rags, searching her eyes.
“Before you go—who are you? Do you have a name?”
Rags paused. She turned as she guided her Carn Wolf around and grinned at the woman. She pointed at herself.
“Rags. Chieftain of the Flooded Waters tribe.”
Then she kicked her wolf and after he glared at her, he shot away. She left the city behind as the gates opened and the Humans rushed out, demanding to know what had happened. Much was happening back there, much drama and crying and confused explanations no doubt. But that was the Human’s problem. Rags had done what she came for.