"There it is." Lisa pointed towards an artificial object tied between two tree trunks.

It was a piece of animal skin attached tautly to a wooden frame. Paper was pinned to the front.

"What is it? A broken down tree hut?" Fred, her party member, asked without much interest.

Group of four would split up and cover as much ground as possible, to kill as many goblins as possible. But Lisa had come fetch them to show off what she'd found.

"More like a notice board. Come closer, I'll show you."

"We should be slaying right now." Fred complained. "Getting our slay on."

"It's about time for a break anyway." Denise commented. "How about we go see what Lisa has found and we'll have ourselves a picnic?" She was the oldest and also the least ambitious of the group. After reaching a certain age with no real achievements to one's name, the possibility to rise in rank and become a renowned hero was just not in the cards. Like many, she adventured for the fun and sport of it.

"Oh, I love your cucumber sandwiches." Said Dennis, the youngest and second least ambitious. He was here because his sister was. Like many children he had wild dreams of heroism and dragon slaying, but that didn't translate much to putting in an effort.

"Guys. Can we focus?" Lisa pouted. "This is important."

"Yeah, yeah. Lead the way." Fred waved his hand.

-

When they came to the object she pointed at it demonstratively. "It's a quest board."

"No it's no- Jeez, it is." Fred didn't want to believe it. It seemed so silly to see a board with quests in the middle of the forest.

Five portraits of human faces where crudely sketched on white paper and pinned onto the skin with small pins. Just like monster slaying requests a reward was promised underneath.

"Two gold!? You could buy a horse for that." Fred exclaimed.

"Who cares about the reward? It's a kill order for human beings!" Lisa responded a bit angrily.

"I recognize these people." Denise gasped, her hand over her mouth. "The lightsworn trio. Archie, Tim, and Nat. They're a level E party."

"So they're real people?" Dennis said. "It's not a fake poster?"

"If it's fake it's in very very bad taste." She stated as she ripped the paper off the board one by one.

"What does it say there?" Fred asked. "Any participants of the culling..."

"Somebody doesn't want adventurers to kill goblins?" Lisa wondered.

"Either that, or they want the slaying record for themselves." He responded.

"It doesn't matter." Denise proclaimed, slightly ticked off. "Adventurers wouldn't start killing each other over money."

"Then why did you remove them?" Dennis wanted to know.

Barbara had become pregnant again.

Like expected the goblins had responded to their dwindling numbers by trying to breed replacements.

The upside was that she was allowed out of her cell again. The strongly barricaded room was now reserved for the new girl.

She didn't seem to be with child yet, or she'd be making herself heard like all new victims of goblins. Barbara remembered her own first night, when she had seen her stomach bulge out and deform her body to accommodate the parasites. She didn't have a way to deal with, physically or psychologically.

Scratch had a theory about breaking the spirit of captives. That was most likely what they were doing now, restricting her movement, making her beg for everything except air. Perhaps it did work, perhaps a sense of gratitude could be forced. Barbara knew that her time in the ropes had made her meeker, but a broken spirit? Never.

That first night Missy had been there. A previously captured goblin wife. She wouldn't know what would have become of her if she didn't have someone to guide her through that fearful period. Perhaps soon she would have to be that someone to Brittany.

-

"How long are you going to loiter around this place?" Scratch admonished her. She had been hanging around in front of the new captive's door for too long. "Come up, we're making music."

"Music?" She was befuddled.

"Yeah, music. You know, dah-dee-dah-dah, that sort of thing. Come up." He gave a commanding gesture, like calling a dog.

Now was not the time to antagonize him further. She followed him up.

-

They were making music. A lute and a flute had been looted from dead adventurers, they were making the rounds for all goblins to try out, and the ones without instruments were singing and clapping along.

Currently Fyro was plucking two alternating strings on the lute, and Biter blew the same note in different durations on the blowing instrument. It made a recognizable melody.

"When I'm gone. When I'm go-one. You're gonna miss me when I'm gone."

Mac's voice shone right above the chorus. His chanting was pure and harmonic, a lower soprano. She cracked a little smile at how different she was from his namesake, the pruny old man managed to be off-key just talking normally.

Barbara sat down on a horse kin, with her pregnant body she had to sit wide-ligged leaning back to be comfortable. It occurred to her not everybody was inside. Second, George and Benjamin had to be outside keeping watch. Before the tribe had relaxed their vigilance after sundown, now they never did. Perhaps her window for escape had passed.

Scratch leaned into her, his voice inaudible to the others due to the music going on. "I'm going to ask you to reconsider your loyalties. I've thought about it, and we can't keep you here forever if you don't want to."

Her ears pricked up. She looked at him confused.

He stared back into her eyes. "You don't have any allies where you're from. If I understood you correctly, from what you've described, it seems to me the city counsel needs your guild members to stay in power. Running in with a list of public accusations won't help you, you'll get disappeared again. They'll find an excuse to discredit you, trust me, it's not hard."

He had a slightly mocking expression on his face, she felt like he looked down on her. With a few words he had shown having guessed her ambitions, and put them up to scrutiny. He was smarter than her, and infuriatingly aware of it.

But his face when serious. "That knowledge goes a lot farther in the hands of a rival."

"A... rival?" Surely the little creature wasn't suggesting this handful of monster fodder would challenge the business of the thieves' guild. Where would they even start?

Before they could continue their conversation Scratch got the lute pressed into his arms. "Oh, is it my turn? Let me see if I can figure this thing out. Alright. I'm going to do a new one."

He trotted to the middle of the room and addressed the group. "Everybody! For this one I need people to keep time, if you could all do this with your right foot." He rhythmically stomped on the wooden floor at steady intervals, until the group joined him. Then he strummed the snare instrument and began to sing.

"You can't stop an avalanche

As it races down the hill

You can try to stop the seasons, girl

But ya know you never will

And you can try to stop my dancin' feet

But I just cannot stand still~"

After that last part he began to shuffle to and fro on his feet. "Don't make me do it on my own. I'm getting self-conscious."

"Cause the world keeps spinnin'

Round and round

And my heart's keeping time

To the speed of sound

I was lost til' I heard the drums

Then I found my way~"

Scratch having left a seat free next to Barbara, Linus came up to her, he looked her radically changed form due to pregnancy.

"These will be your little brothers." She explained, and took his hand to put on her stomach.

Inside they could feel the unborn children moving around.

"Woooow." The boy whispered.

It made her feel less disgusting for carrying monsters in her body.

Listening to the upbeat music filling the room she almost wanted to dance herself.

Ever since this old world began

A woman found out if she shook it

She could shake up a man

And so I'm gonna shake and shimmy it

The best that I can today~

Several of the goblins certainly took after Scratch's example and turned the stamping into a little dance of their own.

It wasn't all bad. Not everything.

Runt hid behind the roots of the tree.

He had had bad experiences with the pigs, or orcs. His original family had welcomed the gifts of the stronger creatures, but they'd been brutally slaughtered when they showed interest in their home.

This tribe too know of the fickle-ness of the creatures, after a few weeks of peaceful co-existence a trio had come in to kill them one day. They'd been satisfied with the visitors that happened to be there at the moment, Scratch, Second, and the others, but it hadn't exactly been cordial.

Yet now their leader was welcoming another one in their midst.

The orc was dressed in tattered robes and held a large shield and hammer. He was content being served on the dried dirt outside, surrounded by his servants he layed down on his side eating the food of his hosts. So Runt stayed inside, in-between the tree roots, not to be seen by him.

-

He couldn't blame Nug, their leader, for wanting to cozy up to more powerful creatures again.

He had had the foresight to collect an as large as possible troupe after the orcs had disappeared, and even then they hadn't been able to stand up to the relentless influx of humans in the forest, killing everything they came across over the past few days.

The population of the tree home had more than halved since three days ago, and all the women had ran away after being broken out.

If it went on like this, the tribe wouldn't survive for very long.

But giving all food they had to the orc didn't help things in the short term either.

-

"So, you've worked up my appetite." The orc belched as he finished eating the last of their food, the unappetizing cartilage part of one of the tall birds. "Are you going to take responsibility? Come out with a real meal next?"

"We... food...no more." Nug stammered, instead of gratitude he was confronted by demands for more.

"Nyeh." The pig spat on the ground in annoyance. "Take a look around, they have plenty."

The goblins that had followed him around as his entourage began wandering through the area, inside and outside the tree home.

Some among them carried orcen weapons and armor, although not much more than those of the tree home. They were healthier, better fed, and with more energy than the declining tribe.

The tree goblins looked on as the visitors entered their home, touched their belongings and lounged in their places. It was a distinct mark of dominance of the guests to be that invasive, Runt could see that.

Eventually the search did come up short, they really were destitute.

"Bah!" The orc stood up. "You want food? You want women? Follow me. More food and women than you can count!" He lifted his large hammer and pointed to the west, towards human controlled lands.

He was wise to use such simple but effective language. Runt almost felt like cheering himself, but it hadn't gone by him that the creature had been rather eager to get their food for someone that would provide them all with it soon.

When a new day broke their duties needed to be attended to anew too.

For now the defense of the fort was going well, at least.

In part because the goblins, being healed, were able to fight at full capacity.

In part also because the skill at trap setting was developing.

It was routine for them to clean out and reset traps after sundown every evening. Dumb had always been the best trap maker, he had had a knack for cruel inventions and camouflage, and had set up some of their most effective pits and snares.

After he had gone, interest in his lost secrets flared up among the youngest generation. Mac showed the others the way he had seen him knot, and Quiet had relayed to them some ideas and projects Dumb had started in the past. This way, by remembering Dumb, they improved the skills they used in everyday life.

Soon, they would begin to find more humans that had actually died to the traps in their forest. Never as much as the ones finding their little town, though.

-

Not that there was much to defend.

The dark sorcerer and his goons had turned over the place looking for the shard. Many of the huts were knocked over.

With the constant fighting and guarding not much time could be dedicated to rebuilding, just the water purifier was crudely reconstructed, the well still untouched.

With no washing basin they all walked around in days-old clothing. It was only slightly uncomfortable.

What work was done in-between the little ruins was preparation for battle, the construction and repair arrows, barricades, and weapons.

Beneath the overhang of the purifier, slightly protected against the harsh sunlight, goblins would come together to make plans and choose their equipment for their next guard duty.

-

"Are you okay with that sword?" Fat asked Fyro.

"I... can't hold it right." Fyro complained.

Fat took Fyro's hand. The healing effect of the salve had created a band of skin around the palm of his right hand, making it harder to hold on to things.

He pulled a contemplative face. "If we had let it heal without salve, it would have become the same as it was after a while."

Fyro pulled back his hand. "If we did that, I wouldn't be able to fight, and I'd die. I can just... hold it in my other hand, like this."

"Go to Second." Fat advised. "Second can make you a different weapon."

Scratch crossed his arms. "When you feel the need, you ask. I explained it very clearly."

The prisoner spat at him. "Go to hell, monster! Get me out of these damn-"

"Shut it!" He harshly pulled her hair. "You speak when spoken to."

Linus stood agape to the side. He'd only once seen Scratch angry before, when fighting he was usually calm instead of agitated, when one of the boys misbehaved he was bemused, only when they acted stupid or were about to hurt themselves would he raise his voice. This was different, he wasn't truly angry, he was putting up a tough act to intimidate the woman.

Intimidation is a lot easier when the victim is constrained and naked, unable to fight back.

She winced at his rage and the pain.

"Look at you." He said with disgust. "Rolling in your filth like an animal."

At his command she was not allowed to do anything by herself. She had to beg for food, water, cleaning, and to be allowed to go to the toilet.

The first three she managed to do without, stubborn in her hunger strike. The last need was too strong a biological impetus to suppress however, and she had soiled the painstakingly crafted sheets that made up the bed.

"If you can't communicate like an animal, we'll treat you like an animal." He said sternly. "Is that what you want, to sleep in the bird pen?"

She stretched her body to throw her weight forward as much as possible in her bound state, trying to headbutt him. But she fell face first on the ground. "Monsters! I'll-"

"Yeah, yeah. Let's give her a day with the geese pecking at her while we clean this pigsty." Scratch turned to Linus.

"You know how to clean a hide?"

"Uh..."

"Ask Quiet. He'll explain."

It had only been a few hours since Brittany had been moved to the bird pen. The goblins had already gone out to reset the traps.

Currently, this meant not just covering up the pit traps again, restring the snares and refilling the slime. It meant updating the board, to sell the lie.

They now went farther out, and did more. So they were away from the cave for a longer time.

Therefore, the cave was relatively empty when Barbara went into labour.

Her unrestrained screams echoed through the cave.

"Scratch, Scratch. It's mom. She's in pain." Linus came up to the foyer from the stairs.

"Yeah. She makes it hard to ignore, doesn't she?" He said calmly. He put aside the book and straightened out a piece of fur. "Bring her up, we'll handle it here this time."

-

And so Barbara's sons guided and partly carried her up into the fur lined room.

She was breathing heavily.

"Sit down." Scratch instructed. "I think you have the most experience with this. So just tell us what you need, we'll get it for you."

It was more considerate than he had been the first time around. Then again, he was trying to win her over.

George stood with Kicker and Biter on the tower.

Their responsibility was keeping an eye out for intruders, but the screams of Barbara were more than a little distracting.

George was concerned. "Is she in pain?"

"That's normal." Answered Kicker.

"It sounded like that when you were born." Biter added.

"But we didn't know her as well, then." Kicker said.

"But it sounded the same." Biter repeated.

"It's loud. It sounds like she's in pain." George re-iterated.

Kicker and Biter both shrugged.

-

"I think th- Oh no." As George idly glanced over the surroundings the figure of a heavily armored human stood out with a glossy shine.

He had been attracted by the screams it seemed, already over the perimeter and marching in a straight line towards the cave.

"Eeeeeooooh!" Biter screamed at the top of his voice. Beside them, there were no other goblins keeping watch over the perimeter. And the ones there that weren't, were gathering around the woman inside, where other noises drowned out his voice.

"What are we going to do?" George clutched his shield.

"There's only one." Said Kicker. "I'm just going to shoot."

He released a shot from the crossbow. It deflected against the armored shoulder of the human. He turned around slightly, only now noticing the goblins, but returned on his route. He had clear priorities.

George jumped off the platform, lightly paining his knees with the impact. "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeelp!" He yelled, running after the enemy. "Heeeelp!"

If only he could warn Scratch and Linus of the approaching threat. That would at least be something.

"That's it. The last one." Scratch encouraged her. "It's always six, isn't it?"

She nodded, still grimacing from the exertion.

"Then this is the last one.... Ah, excellent. Another boy."

The one eyed goblin tenderly took the last infant and dried him with a piece of cloth. "What do you want to name them?"

"I thought about it." She said. "I think-"

"Heeeeelp!"

"Jesus, what timing." Scratch cursed with an unknown god. "Barbarians at the gate. Fyro, Mac, there's spears outside. Linus... You can stand guard."

-

Barbara was holding one of the infants against her chest as she saw Scratch and his entourage storm out of the cave.

Even a D level party wouldn't stand up to the kind of magic he had displayed.

She carefully put the newborn down and stood up.

"Mom?" Linus had stood with his back towards her, trying to guard her for whatever would come through that entrance, now he turned around to question her.

"Keep guard, sweetie." She whispered. What the goblin didn't understand that whoever came to attack the little village was not her enemy, he was. And she would aid her saviors in fighting her enemy.

She looked at the hatch and mentally pictured the layout of the cave. The wooden living space at the top, the narrow staircase, the siderooms, and the long tail downward towards the chicken coop.

Scratch didn't know the use of the vial of toxin he had confiscated, and he hadn't discarded it, that she was certain of.

Where in the cave could it be? She snapped her fingers. Where else? There's one place.

She stood up quickly, momentarily disoriented by the agility gained back after expelling six cumbersome parasites.

She threw around the furst and books until she had found it. Between the furs of the living space. Where he can keep a close eye on it. Well I beat you, demon. With this to your face the only thing protecting this cave is a handful of goblins.

She heard the clatter of steel outside. I must be quick, before Scratch does something.

"Mom?" Again Linus was nosing in her affairs.

"Didn't I tell you-"

The fur in front of the entrance suddenly got violently jerked off.

"Are you alright?" A man in armor said, from behind a face covering helmet. He was wielding a large mace. Obviously an adventurer of the paladin class. "I heard screaming. This place is filled with-"

"N-uh!" Linus swung at the man's knee with his small knife.

"Goblins!" The paladin kicked Linus across the room. He then walked up to him and crushed his leg with his mace.

"No!" Barbara exclaimed.

The man lifted up his mace again, aiming for the head this time.

"NO!" Before she knew it, she had thrown the vial at the paladin. The glass shattered against the back of his helmet, splatting the toxin on his neck, leaking between the plates.

"Oh no." As soon as Lisa stepped over the small hill she turned around.

"What? What, oh no?" Fred walked past her to reach the location first. "Oh no." He repeated after he was able to see over the mound.

"I wanna see, what's going on?" Dennis squeezed past them. "I don't see anything."

"The board is back." Lisa sighed.

"The board is what!?" Denise was agitated, the more she was reminded of that foul prank the angrier she got.

-

When they approached the board the notices were pinned to it again, but with a key difference this time.

Big red X's were crossed over the faces of the lightsworn trio. "Request fulfilled." It said.

"W-what is this?" Denise stammered.

"It says they got killed." Fred said at his most delicate.

"Come on. We're not going to believe this, are we?" Lisa stated. "A level E party..."

"No. They might." Denise stated. "They might really be dead. But whoever is putting up these notices wants us to think adventurers did it. Fred, you heard about other board, didn't you?"

"Corey and his mate saw one by the river, didn't say anything 'bout any fulfilled requests though."

Denise straightened her back and slowly exhaled. "Kids, I'm going to have to ask you to help me take them down. Instead of culling goblins with me today."

"S-sure." Fred said, impressed by her gravitas.

"And we can still kill any we meet on the way, can't we?" Dennis added.

Paladin Class

The paladin is a role that divides its attention between protecting and healing. Paladins must train in the use of heavy equipment and the healing magic of Benesant, it is a difficult class to master.

Adventurers registered as paladins have access to paladin equipment from the guild store and healing magic training.

Paladins keep party members that are focused on doing damage or other things healthy, but they are not relegated to a support class only. The light magic of a paladin can be used offensively, it is a tremendously versatile class.

Despite the difficulty of mastering the role of paladin, many adventurers try, and more than a few succeed. It is a prestigious class with many legendary heroes to its name throughout history.