by Eric Ugland
“Any chance there’s a shirt in that bag?” I asked.
“Not one that would fit you,” Ragnar replied, doing his damndest to hide a smile. And failing.
“You know, this is why people don’t respect me as a duke.”
“It’s really only part of the problem,” Skeld said.
“Thanks, peanut gallery. Tarryn, send a flare up to get Fritz over here. We need to get the wounded back to base, figure out what the hell is going on out here.”
Tarryn nodded, keeping his glib comments to himself, and walked over to a clearer spot. He reached his hand into the air, and a red ball of energy shot skyward, zooming about four hundred feet up before exploding in a beautiful star shape that morphed into a large arrow pointing down at us.
“Subtle,” I said.
“Fritz doesn’t do subtle well,” Tarryn replied with a shrug.
I peered over the carnage of the battlefield. The bodies of the dead had been pulled out into a line, and there were lots of them. Scores of goblins, laid out one after another. Lots of the vargr, most missing large chunks out of themselves. And five kobolds.
Baltu was looking down at them.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He gave me a wan smile, then shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “You did your utmost to protect them. They died knowing someone cared. That is more than they have had for most of their lives.”
“I still wish I had done more,” Isaid.
“And that is why we follow you as we do.”
I noticed that the other kobolds were gathering around, nodding. They were all injured in some capacity. Burns on most, bandages that were already bloody and leaking on the rest.
They were all looking at me.
“I promise do more,” I said to them. “You are my people. I will protect you.”
They reached out and put their hands on me, and closed their eyes. It was both a little odd, and yet touching. Then, without saying anything, they went away.
Amber walked back through the trees, and I realized she’d been gone.
“There’s something odd happening here,” she said.
“Ya think?” I gestured to the bodies.
“Come.”
I left a note for Fritz explaining clearly that I understood he preferred to fly with me, but I needed him to help out some wounded. Then, I put Ragnar and Skeld in charge of getting the kobolds, Tarryn, Bear, and Maja onto Fritz and back to Coggeshall. Then Amber and I headed into the night.
Chapter Fifty
Amber had definitely improved as a ranger since the first time we’d gone out. Now she moved through the forest with practiced ease, making virtually no noise. She knew exactly where to step, and pointed things out to me with enough time that I could move quietly too, avoiding branches and twigs as we crept along. After about twenty minutes hiking along, she motioned for me to stop.
“Up there,” she whispered, pointing into the trees.
About a hundred or so feet up and fifty feet north of our current position, I saw a platform hanging off a tree. It was a bit like a hunter’s platform, except a little bigger and a lot higher than any hunter would ever need to be. And there wasn’t much of anything to keep you from falling off. There was a rope ladder leading to the platform, hanging all the way down to the ground. And a number of goblins were climbing down. They didn’t have on armor, and didn’t look like any of the Night Goblins I’d yet encountered in the valley. Or even the ones I’d encountered outside the valley. These guys were a bit bigger, a bit more put together, and they also looked like they were having a little more trouble moving. Like they were older. And at least one of them was pudgy. I’d never seen a fat goblin before. There were also hints of gold and jewels on these guys.
“What am I looking at?” I asked.
“They were on the platform when I got back here,” Amber whispered, “watching us.”
“Watching us?”
She nodded. “They had something like an orb they were looking through. I could see just a little of it, and they were watching you guys.”
“So are you thinking they’re, what, the guys in charge?”
“I think that’s a definite possibility.”
“Which means all of this was for testing purposes,” I said, shaking my head as the pudgy one fell off the ladder and bounced down the tree a ways. He seemed unhurt at the bottom, which was disappointing.
“Why would they do that?” Amber asked.
“Because they want to know more about us. Not to be too much of an egotist, but they probably wanted to know more about me. See if they can figure out a way to knock me out of the fight.”
“Because we’re starting to intrude on their territory.”
“We’ve being doing that since the first day we arrived in the valley. But we also took away their playthings, and I think they’re starting to get mad about that.”
“Playthings?”
“The kobolds. I’m going to get a little closer, see what I can hear.”
“You can understand them?”
“Yep.”
I crawled from tree to tree, moving quietly through the undergrowth. The goblins weren’t anywhere near as cautious. There were six of them talking to each other, guffawing at some joke that I hadn’t heard. There was a surprising amount of back slapping, and even a shared drink from a crude-looking metal flask. Clearly there weren’t a lot of fine silversmiths amongst the Night Goblins.
About twenty feet from the group of six, I noticed some large, brutish-looking mooks standing guard. I made a quick count while peeking around a tree trunk. Eight of the big boys. They were standing there, with weapons, but they weren’t aware of much. The ‘guards,’ for lack of a better term, were about five or six feet tall, but had oversized faces with oversized features. Yellowed tusks poked out from their underbitten square jaws. They had huge fingers that looked like prize-winning cucumbers. Only two fingers though, and one thumb on each of their huge arms. Just two of those, as well as two legs. Crude armor covered them from head to toe, and a heavy, thick helm sat on each of their big heads. Wisps of hair came out from under the helms, but it looked thick. Coarse, I think you’d call it. They each had a short sword of sorts on their belt, and held a spear in their hands. But the spears were odd. Super thick haft, rather rudimentary metal point. One of them farted quite loudly. Then another. And a third. They weren’t the most imposing of troops, but it was clear they were the elite guard.
The mucky-mucks were walking away from their stand toward their guard. I was roughly equidistant from each group, and while I was willing to bet the ‘elite’ guards weren’t going to spot me, it didn’t seem worth the risk. I wanted to know what these guys were doing, and, for once, not kill them.
“... Didn’t think would work that good,” one of the goblins said. “Slimes were brilliant.”
“You are welcome,” the pudgy one replied. “It will take a short time to replace what was used, but not to worry. I have some thoughts on other varieties. There is a quite a lot to chose from, and we might be able to accelerate the breeding if you can spare more--“
“You have what you have,” the goblin walking in front said. “There are others who need more than you.”
“But—“
“Slime-lord, when we have confirmation the Beast has truly died, you might be given back what you lost. But not before then.”
“Yes, Your Darkness,” the pudgy one said, bowing and letting the group get a little farther from him. He stood up, rolled his eyes, and rejoined the group.
“The slimes were effective,” the leader, apparently His Darkness, said. “The vargr were not. They lack discipline unless ridden. Crossbows were a failure. What was the rate?”
“One in ten,” another of the goblins piped up, his voice hard to hear he was being so quiet.
“Failed?”
“Succeeded.”
His Darkness stopped, and lifted a hand up as if to halt the group. He made a fist
, and there was an audible crunch as the goblin who’d just spoken imploded. Everyone fell silent. Then the leader started walking again, and the rest of the group ignored the remains, stepping over and around the clump of former-goblin.
“It would seem we need a new head of projectiles,” His Darkness said. “Anyone have a candidate they might recommend?”
Silence from the rest.
By that time, though, they had made it to their farting guards. I decided I’d heard enough.
The goblins were testing different methods of fighting Coggeshall. And it sounded like they were actually pretty on top of things. I mean, it sounded like they had departments and research and everything. It made me really worried, because I’d thought the goblins were a threat before, when it was just a matter of numbers. We needed to get more intel on them, and quick.
I looked over at Amber, who was peering out from a berry bush.
“Let’s get back to camp,” I said.
She nodded, and took point again, leading me back through the darkened trees to where our camp was.
On the way, I told Amber what I knew about the kobold-night goblin relationship in Coggeshall Valley. The sacrifices, and the dark god that night goblins were apparently serving. And how the night goblins needed to keep the flow of sacrifices consistent, or there would be trouble with their god. That was always the trouble with gods who demanded sacrifices. Everything is all rainbows and blood until the bodies dry up, and then the god wants your blood. Fuckers. All of ‘em.
The question on my mind was around that god. Who was it? Was it a god of Vuldranni or some outside entity like that bastard behind the Corruption? I’d much rather be dealing with someone local. That outsider really fucked things up for us. And what were the Night Goblins doing? Was their religion a way of life thing, or were they building toward something?
It struck me that there was the outside chance the night goblins were trying to get their own dungeon going. Sacrifices were a major part of dungeon building. Maybe I should chance it and let them complete their nefarious deeds before sweeping in and cleaning them out. Then I’d have a dungeon. But really, dungeons, at least the capital D type Dungeons I’d already encountered didn’t seem to have a whole lot of upside to them. Incredibly dangerous, preternaturally difficult, and they didn’t seem to pour out treasures. Dungeons in this world weren’t the sort of thing you could farm. I wondered if there was some analog on this world that could be farmed in that regard. It would be super useful to have something that would allow our soldiers and guards to level up even while constrained to the valley. Make sure we had elite troops.
Back at the campsite, Skeld, Ragnar, and Bear were waiting for us. The rest had taken the first Air Fritz flight home, and we’d have a short wait until the next departure.
Bear and Skeld were having a quiet talk, but they were both smiling so that warmed my heart just a little. Ragnar and Amber cleaned up the campsite, making sure all the fires and embers were out. Wouldn’t exactly be prudent to burn our forest down. At least, not yet. I hadn’t yet ruled that particular tactic out for a night goblin - Coggeshall conflict. Worst-case scenario, I’d burn the valley to a crisp to keep us safe in our mountain home. Though, as I leaned against the tree and stared into the tiny rising smoke trail, I realized the damn night goblins would be similarly safe in their own mountain home. Perhaps it was time to examine some new strategies.
Fritz flew out of the night sky, and we climbed aboard.
The short flight through the night did two things. One, it cooled me off, and two, it made me realize how much progress we’d made. We’d done a pretty phenomenal job digging the foundation of the road out, and it showed. There was a definite slice through the heavy woods, and I felt a surge of pride. We were conquering the valley.
Chapter Fifty-One
There was mass confusion regarding Skeld. But once it was clear the wolverine dude was actually Skeld, everyone pretty much accepted him as Skeld. Just with a slightly different appearance, in a way, that made sense. In a world of magic and miracles, a Lutra coming back from the dead as a burly wolverine-type guy didn’t seem that big of a deal. Certainly not compared to a bird the size of a house who could carry an elephant off with relative ease.
Interestingly, now that we were back in Coggeshall proper, the magic cube from Mister Paul contained more information. When I took out the little wooden box, I got this prompt:
DO YOU WANT TO BUILD A BUILDING?
You have been given the choice of one (1) magical building supplied by the gods. What will you choose?
Abbatoir?
Alchemist Laboratory?
Armor-smithy?
Bakery?
Butcher?
Candlemaker?
Cobblery/Cordwainer?
Fighting Pits?
Glassmaker?
Shrine?
Skunkworks?
Smelter?
Tailor?
Tavern?
The choice is yours, and not limited to this list. Happy choosing!
Naturally, I had no idea what to choose, and while there were plenty of people who were totally going to have an opinion about what we should do as a group, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I was exhausted, it was late, and I was gross, so I elected to go straight up to my quarters. I showered, singing a medley of songs I loved, and then got out, dried off, and walked into my bedchambers, prepared to slide into my cool sheets and sleep the last bit of the night away. Which is exactly what one wants to do when one has had a phenomenally shitty day where one is eaten by a slime and mostly dissolved while still alive. In fact, the only thing keeping me from just falling asleep on the floor had been the fear of nightmares reliving the horrific sliming. If I was going to be thrashing around in terror, I wanted to at least be in my soft bed. Fewer bruises that way.
Hence, I was more than a little surprised and disappointed to find my bedroom full of people.
Especially because I was naked.
And hairless.
The entirety of the Council looked at me standing in the doorway.
“I got slimed,” I said.
“Did it eat your pants?” Nikolai asked.
“As a matter of fact—”
“Yes,” Ragnar finished for me. “And shirt. And hair. And skin. Did you know his bones are black? I know because I had to pull him out of the slime by his fucking bones. And the duke was actually still awake and trying to kill said slime at the time. So, you know, let’s go easy on him for not having pants at the moment.”
I gave Ragnar a nod, stepped back into the bathroom, wrapped a towel around myself, and then rejoined the council.
“Really can’t wait until tomorrow, eh?” I asked.
“I don’t know if you have noticed,” Nikolai said, pointing to the windows, “but it is tomorrow.”
I looked out, and, sure enough, dawn. The sun had risen.
“Fuck,” I said. “Okay then. What’s on the docket?”
“How far have you gotten and why have you come back?” Nikolai asked.
“I’d say we’re about two thirds there,” I replied, “and we came back because we found Skeld, we had a rather intense altercation with the night goblins, and we got this.”
I pulled the magic building cube from my bag and tossed it at Nikolai.
He fumbled with it, bouncing it up high into the air before managing to grab hold of it. I saw his eyes go wide as he read over the notification.
“Do I want to know how you got this?” he asked.
“I don’t even know how I got it,” I said. “It’s a gift for something, but I’m missing big chunks of my memory for some reason.”
“I guess that will have to be enough for us,” Nikolai agreed. He turned to the rest of the council. Some of them were sitting on my bed, some were sitting in my chairs, and a few stood by the fire, trying to stay warm. “We have a free magic building. It has a wide list of options—”
“A fortress,” the head dwarf, Harmut called out.
“What about a siege weapon workshop?” he asked.
“I think that works?”
“Then I change my vote to that.”
“We’re voting?” Tarryn asked. “Arcane library.”
“Hold up,” I said.
“Armory,” Nathalie offered. “Or an arena.”
“We don’t need an arena,” Mercy the hydromancer interrupted. “We need more magic—“
“We have enough magic,” Nathalie said, “we need steel.”
“Then why not set up a smithy?”
“We have a smithy.”
“ENOUGH!” I shouted.
Everyone got very quiet and looked over at me. Some with faces of mild panic, more with faces of annoyance.
I summoned one prinky.
He was a thicc boy, remarkably round with tiny little feet. And a brilliant hue of purple.
“This,” I said, picking up the prinky, “is the ‘talking prinky.’ If you want to say something, you need to be holding the talking prinky.”
‘You can’t be serious,” Nikolai said.
“Do you have the talking prinky?”
“Obviously—“
“Then be quiet,” I said firmly. “This a ducal order for today. It might be forever, not sure yet. Now. Who wants to hold the talking prinky?”
Everyone just sort of looked around awkwardly, and I had the feeling they were daring each other to speak up, to defy me.
But then Eliza smiled, and raised her hand delicately.
“Go to Lady Northwoods,” I said to the prinky.
He nodded solemnly, and then ran across the room. She picked him up and set him in her lap.
“I think,” she said, “that this opportunity for a magical building is one that we might need to table until we have a pressing need for a building. Right now, we are doing fine here.”