"You sold them out?" His right hand looked incredulously at her boss. "Like, to Johnny Law? You sold them out?"

They were in a secure location, an ally owned with music much to loud for eavesdropping. Yet she felt the need to whisper.

"Is that so strange? Why did you think we cleaned out that upstate judge? To get the public prosecutor to sign off on us. Agents of the law," he gave a fake salute before downing a shot glass, "nobody behind bars can do anything to us, no plea deals, nothing."

"We're informants, collaborators." She put it succinctly. "Rats."

"Genuine fucking protection from above, hallelujah." He put a cigarette in his mouth.

"Are you crazy? Who will work with us now? You think the don's partners will just turn on their heels and let you take his place? The don had a reputation you know, that's what kept everything together."

"When did you- got a light?" She lit his cigarette. "When did you turn into a political theorist?"

"I'd have to be blind not to see it. Everybody's talking about how you lack the respect."

"Every dinosaur is. Look," he counted on his fingers, "we've got Bumpy on main street, he's not going anywhere, you know that. Jerome in the projects, what's he gonna do without our dope? Huh? The clubs, that's Shive. Sewer city, that's Slicky Mickey. The money plane, Steeltrap. The labs, Patty McNeil and the Sterling boys. I mean, I could go on..."

"Yeah, yeah... so everybody uses you for something, that doesn't mean they respect you."

"Fuck respect. I mean for christ's sake woman, you sound like an Italian. The point is, everybody that's anybody in this town, relies on me. Right now the news of the boss' arrest is trickling in, all over the nasty little hideouts of this city. And you know what's gonna happen?"

Deciding to humor him she leaned in, "what?"

"The wheels in their heads are gonna start turning," he illustrated it with his fingers besides his head. "They'll be calculating, pluses, and minuses, eventually coming out, very logically, on the only real horse in the race. Me."

"They're all going to do whatever you say... because of wheels in their heads?"

"Because of self-interest. Rational people will always make the decisions that lead to the most material wealth, when you can see those strings you can exert power. Right now, it's either get fat under me, or risk your life for the chance to get sucked dry by a zip."

"Okay, now I'm convinced," she laughed.

"Hhm?"

"You've been saying it for years, but now I believe it. You don't believe in anything."

"I never said that, did I?"

"Not honor, or love, or respect. Only money. Getting rich." She didn't seem at all resentful saying it.

"Getting rich... I would say I believe in cultivating dignity. That is believing in something." He mused.

"What? What does that even mean? Dignity?"

"You know what it is, rich people have it, poor people don't. Dignity is when you can wear nice clothes, eat at good spots. It's when you don't have to humiliate yourself doing manual labor in a mine or serving up drinks. I'd rather die than be poor- No offense." He made a half-apology to the waitress serving them shots.

"Anybody else might tell you god will punish you for thinking like that, but I've seen you getting away with it for years, so I'll just tell you to keep spiting god like you do. It's workingg out. Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

-

It would be the last time they drank together cordially. Not long after he threw her off a roof and was combusted by a magical spell.

"Once more my halls are stained by your vile presence."

The soul shielded his incorporeal eyes from the blinding light of the goddess. "Aw shit, is this heaven?"

"Hold your tongue," her stately voice chimed behind the searing aura, "do not you forget that you have used the magic of my followers to bind your soul to my domain. It will always return to my power."

"Listen, lady. I don't know what your deal with me is-"

"What is my deal!?" Her voice thundered and crackled through the emptiness of the void. "You return to me no different than you were. A parasite!

I should think the life of the downtrodden would teach you compassion for the weak, but instead you've managed to... wriggle yourself into the same position you had before.

"That's... harsh. Listen, ma'am, I think we got off on the wrong foot here. We're both reasonable people can't we-"

"We can not. Once the diseased lifeblood as drained from that meager body your soul will return to me. Then I will show you justice."

"Well, you might have to wait a while for that. I have few people under me that can do healing magic... Benesant."

Just saying the name made the painful glare of the light feel less intense. He slowly moved his incorporeal hand out of the way to look at her.

Her form was that of a human woman. No imperfections or asymmetries marred her face, such so that she had no strongly identifiable traits by which to remember her. Save for the halo of light beaming from around her head.

"I think that's what those meddlesome kids once called you by before they, you know, roasted me. And the bandits here keep referencing someone with that name too."

She looked away. "That was no secret. Rather, " she changed her mind and looked him in the eye again, "tell me how you stretched out that wretched existence for so long."

He was a bit surprised at that question. "Uhm... you didn't make it easy for me, did you?"

"Answer me. You were to die to a stronger goblin tribe within days of your birth."

"Sheesh. Because of fire alright?" He put his hand on his neck, "It was a desperate situation, somehow I managed to channel my inner boyscout and I got the burny burn going. They were afraid of that, so- no. "He suddenly changed his mind. "Really it was because of First. My fire and spears were just the tools, but it was the eldest son that united the entire family to kill them. I had to be saved actually, I was delirious from... well anyway, that's the story."

The goddess stared coldly into the very waters of his eyes. The intensity off her gaze hurt almost as much as the light did. "That is not the story, you were deposited onto a valuable wyrm shard. You should have been wiped out by more powerful factions trying to obtain it."

He nodded. "We basically were. Barely survived."

"Evidently you were not. Tell me how the bandits of the forest came to be under your control."

"Oh so you do know about that."

"Conversations regarding these things have fallen on the ears of my true believers." She said dismissively.

"And they... told you?"

"I would not expect a lowly creature like you to understand the window a deity has in the world," she boomed, "everywhere were my justice goes go I."

"I understand better than you think," he murmured, remembering his experience with Cyclophan's limitations.

-

"I did not command your silence!" She thundered, her voice exploding through the unmoving air.

"Yeah yeah, fine," he sighed. "So we'd adopted a couple of lost goblins to work for us. Right? Wasn't my idea but whatever, it was fine. Except the youngest, Small, went all Columbine on us and tried to wipe us out by setting us against the bandits. That's how we first met. But it's also how I lost my brothers Yeller and First."

"Che, that must have broken your heart."

He didn't like how she said that at all, he glanced at her from under his eyebrows, but instead of saying anything about it he continued. "But ultimately, they were people like us. We found common ground and they even took shelter with us when the orcs attacked them."

"That was when you had to kill your other brother, to silence the demand for retribution." She nodded in recognition, "that is a story with legs."

"It's a story with a tail, is what it is." He complained. "Second still despises me for it... Second being another one of my brothers."

Benesant spoke again. "Never mind all that. You did not just establish peace, you brought the bandits under your control. How?"

He grimaced, "Really, it was because of you. It was because of the extend of outside threat that Lydia accepted that it was necessary to combine our groups. Lydia is the leader of the bandits by the way."

"I know." She rubbed her thumb and index finger together, "and who is Clyde Beatty?"

"Just someone I made up. A fiction for her thieves' guild to convince them I'm civilized. Me and Lydia, we don't hold any secrets for each other regarding that."

"But you have more allies intertwined with the thieves' guild. Do you not?"

"I do. Barbara is a banished member, I was able to make use of her knowledge and connections in exchange for letting her have more goblin babies."

"Becoming a goblin brood mother is not a boon!"

He smiled shyly, "I know right? I should've been a salesman. But to be serious you gave me desperate people, their standards are going to be low you know? They don't have a lot of options."

"You have created enclaves all over that cursed forest, each with a bandit woman producing a flow of horrid little monsters. Are you telling me that the privilege of having their bodies exploited this way is supposed to be what keeps them there? It's not. It's the military power of your hobgoblins."

"Felix can't even keep focus on his shoes while he's binding them, Ada has no authority, and Jasper is too sweet to force anybody to do anything.

The clan mothers predate all the others," he shook his head, "nonono. These women are given positions of authority, that's what attractive. In the society we've created the mothers get parental authority. They can have the little monsters wait on them hand on foot if they want to, they're basically slaves. Lydia showed it off first, we got together and had children."

He furrowed his brow.

"Except instead of normal goblins we got hobgoblins? It has to do with her having good genes or something, makes your kids tall. Anyhow, what you asked is how I gained control over the bandits. I guess the answer is I merged our families. With so much intermarriage I'm a godfather to everybody."

"More lies." She hissed the words trough her immaculate teeth. "You've summoned demons, practiced forbidden magic, and forged a bond with an evil god. Tell me the vile darkness you've spread over the land."

A silence hung between them.

-

"So you know about Cyclophan then," he sheepishly admitted.

"You must not have sold your soul, or I would have felt a contest to keeping it here, but I can smell the pathetic thing's stain on you. You must be his champion, pah! What have you done for each other?"

The picture became quite a bit clearer. It would be quite hard to establish mutual rapport with a deity of truth and justice after shaking hands with someone that called himself an 'evil god'.

"So... it's not what you think. We never crossed any lines."

"You crossed the line when you killed your first human being. Simply answer the question, what did you do with the wyrm shard?"

"Yeah... not that's it your business but Cyc- the shard digs down right?"

"Yes...?"

"So we used the tunnel as shelter. After we got rid of the rival tribe I had some stone age tools made and we cut down the surrounding trees for wood. So we were able to furnish an interior. And it laid bare some pockets of ore which- which were actually quite unnatural I mean you'd expect bigger veins further apart wouldn't you haha-" he became more nervous. "Anyway I was able to make a bloomery from dirt so we made iron spear tips to trade with other tribes."

"Don't tell me about the tunnel, tell me about the magic." Benesant had become calmer now, having recognized his increasing discomfort and feeling in control again. "And Cyclophan's demands."

"I- will. Cyclophan has some sheng fui demands and I met them. Doors, stairs, animals at the bottom. Once we had a rapport with the bandits I took their side in a political power play and ended up trading some of the tunnel's precious metals for a bunch of things and a chicken. That chicken is now, like, a demonic chicken. A cockatrice."

"But you did not stop there."

"No. Cyclophan, you know he keeps drilling down. We unearthed an air pocket with underground river -somebody got eaten by a crocodile- and we turned it into our animal enclosure. There's a pen of demonic chickens and two-headed geese there now."

She frowned "and wolves."

"Yes... of course you would know about them. Wolves, once the bandits moved in with us they brought in some dogs. They were evolved too, but they didn't change much. Made friends with... heh- they brought home some more so now we all live together as a big happy family."

"Out with it wretch! The general muck of evolved beasts fighting over the dirt of your cave is of no concern to me. You have brought forth curses and demons, have you not?"

He tried to look casual, "that? Oh, pfff. That didn't amount to anything. He turned some mush in a pot into a healing concoction for us, but the side effects were worse than the cuts, you know? Once Lydia and the others were with us I could try summoning a demon based on her desire, but he's useless. He's just a little guy like me. The curses are... well the curse is just the magical power of Velcro. That's what it is... so-"

She had begun to approach him, "do you fear me, sinner?"

"Haha- Not to be rude but, uhm, yes." He leaned away from her.

"Then you will tell me what dark purpose you lend to the Eston witch."

"That?" His face relaxed with relief. "Oh that's nothing with magic. I know she's a witch but- It's steel. I told you we had a mine? Well she just came and demanded to use it. Right below the animal pen is a cave you see, had us fill it up with big industrial smelters. She has some beef with the forest opposite us, decking herself in in case it turns into a spat. Perfectly innocent, haha."

She came to a stop right in front of him. He now realized his adult dimensions as her eyes only reached up to his chin. "The military industry you possess was her doing."

"... yes?"

"The same sharpened steel that slaughtered my chosen people and drove out their justice from your lands." She was leaning in aggressively now.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. Not a single word he had said this entire conversation had had the intended de-escelatory effect. The goddess had taken every opportunity she got to get madder. "It was a team effort."

"Indeed it was," she turned away from him in a huff, "the witch created the metal and your spawn wielded it. You created a standing army, complete with hoplites and cavalry, in order to defy the justice of the crown, burn buildings and slaughter innocents."

"No," he said defiantly, "a standing army would have permanent positions, this was more like civilian reserves."

"How deep is this cave of steel?" She asked, suddenly softly, "how much monstrous beasts did you bring under the dungeon's control?"

"Uhh... it's more wide than deep. In fact the feng shui is all wrong, Cyclophan can't gain a grip on the monsters because it isn't plugged off properly. We had some trolls burst in, luckily we brought our own so-"

"You brought your own?" Immediately she was back in his face.

"I talk too much, don't I? People accuse me of loving my own voice too much, I-"

"If I find out, wastrel, that you had a human swear off my protection in order to change form into your disgusting species..."

"Relax okay?" He put his hands on her shoulders, but it gave a painful burning sensation and he pulled them away. "Nobody has sworn off anything. It was a baby, she didn't have anything like that yet."

"A babe-" She pulled away in shock.

Rubbing his painful palms together a mischievous smile crept over his face.

"Of course, you have to use what nature gives you, don't you? Nature being you in this case. Didn't you send that army of human knights our way?

That's how we got her. Cyclophan gave me a trick for turning a human into a subhuman like us. And since, you know, it'd be some time before I'd got anybody with strong enough genes to produce a troll in our cave... well." He was done trying to ingratiate himself to her.

Benesant's eyes were large and red. "Scarcely did I comprehend, the extend of your depravity..."

"Come on, it's not that bad."

"It is. With your incarnation, I, the goddess of justice, have inflicted great injustice upon the world."

"If it is any consolation, I did learn my lesson you know."

"Surely not."

"Yes! I learned to be grateful to you."

"Grateful!? Pah! You have done nothing but defy my justice. The impertinence! And to expect you to be humbled."

"Of course!" A malicious grin crept over his face, building onto her self-blame and regret. "Humbled I am, by your generosity, what else? I could not have done it without you."

She snarled like an animal. "Nothing that happened was by my design."

"It was because of you that I was born as a goblin, wasn't it?"

"That was no gift."

He chuckled. "Wasn't it? Where else could I have achieved a position of authority within a week of being born?"

She fell silent at that.

"I don't think any human would have been quite as impressed by my ability to make fire," he continued, "and anyway I still wouldn't be able to lift the fire stick at this age."

"... Your tribe was a banished offshoot of a more powerful group."

"And we took back supremacy using basic technology."

"Your forest was under the control of murderous human outlaws."

"Useful allies with a similar way of thinking."

"You were born on a valuable dungeon core attracting powerful enemies!"

"That granted us the magic they lacked. Truly, you've thought of everything."

He finished his spiel with a quasi happy tone, but then he got more serious.

"Any child knows that power is not derived from absolute but comparative resources, that's why it's called leverage."

-

There was another silent moment as Benesant looked at him with a stunned expression.

But then a superior look came over her face. "Then our time together comes at an end."

"Ah! The healing," He responded, "you can see that happening? So I'm just gonna go down? Wake up?"

She pointed her nose into the air, but did not respond.

"Uhm? Do... do anything? Are you doing something? This is kinda awkward."

"You're despicable, but you are right. It was I that gave you the tools to succeed in evil. Now that I know the nature of the events as they transpired, I can amend my error and enact proper justice one without this leverage you mentioned."

"... I really did die then..."

She reached in to grab his head. For a second it seemed as if he would give himself over to her with a defeated sadness, then he abruptly turned around and sprinted away.

Away of the featureless white ground he sped, with long paces and never looking backwards.

She gave no chase, but he kept up his manic running.

"Haha!" He laughed madly, "like I'd let myself be-"

"Enough of this charade." The goddess stood in front of him.

"Ah!" He fell over backwards.

"Did you have a vision for your continued existence within my throne room?"

"I suppose I didn't really think about i-"

Now she did manage to grab a hold of his skull, her eyes burned intensely into his retinas.

"I shall no longer leave you to the savages and wild beasts. No, I see now that your corruption is not savagery but tyranny, so I will make you feel the lash of tyranny. I found an ally in the institution of your own making, I can think of no better way to make you feel the weight of your own injustice."

Her touch and visage burned him like fire. "Stop... stop."

But she did not. "Do not make demands of me! You have shown a noticeable lack of fear in the eye of my wrath. Know this: I am your enemy. You will endure punishment for your sins... forever."

As she said the last word he was gone. Made to incarnate once again.

She straightened her back and put her hands on her hair. In the heat of the moment she had lost her decorum, which she never did.

Discretely she straightened the folds in her clothing and tidied up her face. It would not be proper receiving her next guest while showing imperfections.

"Ugh, that's over with." The woman stood up out of the shallow pit and grabbed a rag to dry the inside of her legs.

On the ground lay six floundering infants. Of the six one had a particularly composed and wary expression. Bitch!

They had been birthed in a small cubic room, the walls, floor, and ceiling were all made up of a uniform white plaster with no decorations and a single doorway lead directly outside.

Their cradle was a slight indent in the bottom of the room that pooled the water of the womb and let it drain away in a small grate.

"Lackey." The mother addressed someone waiting just outside the room. She pulled aside the dividing curtain of beads and let in a slightly older goblin in rags, he held up the stone-tipped cane he had been carrying for her and she snatched it. "Put these things in the nursery, I want them smashing stone within two days."

"Their names Mama?"

She bashed his shoulder blade with the cane, and not softly either. "I'll come up with something later, get out of my way."

Then she left their children to fend for themselves.

-

Lackey called in some other goblins to help him carry the infants to another room.

Each wore jute bags to cover up, but not really insulate. They were shivering as outside the temperature was near freezing and occasional patches of watery snow covered the ground.

The compound was made up out of roughly twenty cubic buildings of white adobe stone. The birthing hut being the smallest and the nursery they were being taken to being the biggest.

The buildings, along with some empty farming ground and an area of grass-less rock were all surrounded by a mile long dirt wall with thorny bushes on top.

In a single glance the old soul knew where he had been born into. The high ground tribe to the Promise's north had been given to Nadia, a bandit from Lydia Harkness' troupe.

The area was infertile and empty of wildlife, they exported untreated stone to the others and used the money to import food. Their tribe could never have grown this large just trying to sustain itself from their natural resources.

The old soul tried to speak but his voice hadn't come in yet. "G-Gah!"

Lackey shushed him in a comforting tone and held his body to his in the icy cold. "Shh." The small wooden pendant around his neck pressed painfully against his underdeveloped arm.

Despite the situation, he remained composed. A goblin again... not very creative. Maybe it's as low as she can go. I don't know what the plan was putting me with Nadia, but I'm going back to the Promise as soon as possible.

It did not occur to him that this could in any way be difficult.

-

The nursery, at least, had a more proper door to keep in warmth.

When Lackey pushed it open with his painful shoulder they entered a toasty atmosphere and murmur of countless conversations.

So large was the interior that the ceiling had to be held up by a central pillar, which was sculpted to resemble a coiled rope.

Everywhere the adobe was laid in with wooden shavings and colored pebbles to create swirls of gold and off-white.

The entire floor was packed with goblins in jute sacks, most of which fully grown. The former patriarch was stunned by the sheer number of them, there it had to be more than a hundred.

In one corner there were a few nearly ordered rows of straw mats, in another a small team was peeling and crushing raw food for anybody to come by and grab and there was even a spot where two goblins were using a chessboard almost correctly.

More than a nursery it was a housing for Nadia's goblins.

"Put you down on the mat..." Lackey murmured and they put down the infants with the sleeping arrangements.

Lackey walked up to the food table, flashed his pendant at the goblins behind it, and brought back some nuts and fruit slices.

"Stay. Eat food."

Their vocabulary was small and they did not speak much, after providing the children with what they believed covered all their basic needs they simply left.

The infants had been given jute bags of their own, at their current size they were basically blankets.

-

Over the next few hours they were exploring their newfound consciousness, touching things, babbling to each other, and tearing up the straw.

The old soul patted the cheek of the brother trying to knead his face and pushed him away. Yeah, sorry bud, I'm not doing the learning what family is thing again.

He left the rest behind and entered into the general crowd. The older goblins seemed to mostly ignore him, so he could observe at his own pace.

Each goblin in Nadia's colony had a softwood plate with letters punched out on a wire around their neck. These showed their names.

The turnover of births and deaths had to be relatively high for nobody to bother learning each other's names. It's like a business conference in here.

Rather opposite to how things were in the Promise, the High Grounds was organized nothing like a family.

Goblins did not match their schedules to each other, eat or sleep at the same time. Each had their own schedule based around which hours in the day they were called away to work, which was staggered per individual.

Every so often Lackey, or someone like him, would open the door and call out a name and job.

The owner of that name would then sullenly trod out to serve Nadia's will. The way it was scheduled no cohesive cliques could form.

Following his example the other babies had also started crawling over the floor. They were getting in the way and eventually were all picked up and returned to the mat.

-

Huddling in the sleeping corner they watched the numbers inside the building ebb and flow.

Laborers would leave to work at the quarry, gather food, or guard the gate. Other laborers would come in and collapse onto the mats.

Once night had fallen just about every living being that had been inside in the morning had been replaced. It was an efficient use of space, it meant that the nursery did not have to be large enough to house the entire population all at once.

Eventually they let themselves drift off to sleep.

-

"Out with you." He couldn't whistle between his fingers in a dream, but he gave it his best shot.

Scratch. This is impossible, how are you alive? A tiny adder was revealed between the general illusions of the dream.

"I'll tell you the entire story later. Did you choose a new champion yet?"

The dungeon is much too chaotic right now. I was trying to broker a deal with your daughter, but she keeps changing her demands.

"You were trying to get her to sign over her soul in exchange, weren't you." He remarked contemptuously.

The evil god quickly changed topics. With you back to life our existing contract restarted anyway, so it's a moot point. You have come back here as soon as possible, nobody is managing my dungeon and the insides are being smashed from all sides.

"I'm with Nadia, in the North. I need some transportation, a sled or a cart or something."

You know I don't have any power in your surface town. And beside that, they wouldn't be able to send any. Not with the war going on.

"War? I'm gone for one day and they declare war?"

One day? It's been a month and a half! Ada declared herself your successor at first, but she broke with Harkness. Then Barbara and half of her goblins declared themselves independent. Now a number of the colonies are capatalizing on the fractured power of the Promise and are sending fighters here to take it over.

He buried his face in his hands. "Any more bad news?"

No, that's pretty much it... Oh! You were right about curbing attacks on farmsteads. Without you goblins have been freely raiding and as a result the amount of adventurers entering the forest to diminish goblin the population has more than tripled.

"Wonderful... well, I'm coming home. Protect your core, protect the town, try to survive for as long as possible in the meantime."

Scratch.

"Yeah?"

Are you absolutely sure you can fix this?

"...Yes."

-

As soon as he woke up he touched his face. There had been common features between all his different forms, since he was the same species as last time, he was pretty sure he had to be growing into an identical appearance.

The astounding growth rate of goblins had made them capable of walking and fine movement over night. Although they were still not nearly has large as adult goblins, their jute bags hung down to their ankles.

The process had made them fantastically hungry, but the food manager would not let them grab off the table. "Tell your name." He insisted.

"My name is Scratch. You're Picker aren't you. You've seen me around before, I've visited." He said, reaching out for half a pear.

"Uhm... no." Picker objected, slapping his hand, "show name. Names on the food list get food."

"Look, I don't have your ID-card okay? But you recognize me, I'm your papa Scratch."

"Scratch has an eye patch."

"But without the eye patch I'm the same right?"

"But there's no eye patch."

"Listen. Can I talk to the manager? I-"

He was grabbed by the shoulder. "You come. You get name."

He had the whole gaggle of little ones in tow.

"Good." Scratch commented, "let's get this whole thing sorted out."

-

Sorting out is not what happened.

Outside Nadia was leaning on a lectern, pointing at goblins and croaking orders in a tired voice.

"Lackey, where were you? The fighters from the River Home are here."

"Names for... names for them."

"Names? I don't care, you're Ena, you're Mena, Mona, Mite, Bora, and you're Bite. There. Now get me forty spear fighters outside the gate, put them on the gate list."

"Ahem," Scratch, labeled as Mite, tried to make himself heard. "Actually I'm-"

"Get them their badges and give them to Mitch. Hurry up, we set out tomorrow morning so everything has to be prepared today."

"If I could just get your attention, hey!"

But she did not stay around to listen to complaints.

Mite was dragged along to the workshop. A workbench under a skin tent where, among other things, the name tags were carved out.

"If you can just write down 'Scratch' for mine, I'll-"

"I write down what mama says." The workshop attendant said harshly.

He created the tags using 20 distinct metal stamps, each able to punch out a different letter from the softwood when hit with a hammer.

The quarry was steps away from the central square. Having received their names the young goblins were pushed down the stairs towards its bottom to meet Mitch.

-

Mitch was a human. One of the bandits from Lydia's troupe that must have come along with Nadia to help administer her goblins. They had been send there too early and could barely lift them off the ground.

Ena, Mena, Mona, Mite, Bora, and Bite were given professionally made (imported) picks. "I'm putting each of you with an older brother," he sighed, not looking up from his list of names, "just copy what he does. Now go on."

"Actually I am-"

"Now go on."

As soon as he turned his back Scratch let the pick fall on the ground and left.

Without running or hiding he walked up the stairs. Confident that his naturalistic manner would convince those around him that he belonged.

In truth they were simply too tired to pay him any mind. Their backs and minds were slumped under the weight of continuous hard labor.

-

The dirt wall was new since his last visit, but he guessed there would be a gate where the most worn use trail had been before and he was right.

The wall was interrupted by a space just large enough to let two average carriage pass through side by side, it was guarded by just three goblins with spiked clubs.

"Stop." One said tonelessly and without body language.

The meager defense seemed abysmal next to the dimensions of the passage, but the half developed Scratch could still hardly force himself through.

"I'm just gonna leave." He stated with confidence, hoping the certainty in his voice would help him bluff through.

"Name?"

"Name? What name? Why does everybody want-"

The guard walked up to him and snatched the pendant. "Mite's not on the list."

"My name is Scratch. You know? Papa Scratch? Don't you recognize my face?"

"Never saw Papa. And that's not what's on your name." He held up the pendant as proof. His own said "Skrietsj."

"Scratch's not on the list either." One of the other guards said.

"Yeah, 's not on the list." Neither of them had any paper with them, so the lists had to be memorized.

"This is stupid, I'm just going to-" Scratch tried to walk around him but got physically blocked by Skrietsj's thorny weapon.

"You's not on the list." He reiterated.

Scratch sighed, he put his hands on his hips. "Who decides on this list? Your mama?"

Skrietsh gave a faint nod.

"I'll be right back."

-

Nadia stood out high above her child soldiers. At the other side of the colony, away from the gate, was an eare of beaten dirt and weapon storage hut in which she had collected a bunch of unsure combatants.

The goblins of this colony wielded metal tipped spears, but nowhere near the armor and equipment of those in the Promise.

"Lackey! Where's Lackey? Ah, there you are. I'll be taking these to go fight with Sarah for the Promise. I want you to tell Mi-"

"Nadia!" Scratch came running up to her, he had to lift up the crude clothing so he wouldn't trip on it. "Nadia, I want to talk to you. I know it might seem fantastical but-"

She nudged her head and two soldier smacked him against the ground with the blunt edge of their spears.

"Ow. Fuck!" He cursed.

"I know exactly who you are, Scratch." She planted her boot on his chest, pressing all the air out of his lungs. "And the reason I do is the only reason I haven't killed you."

"Fuck. You are killing me," he wheezed.

"Benesant herself send her acolyte to tell me you'd come. When I saw you this morning I knew it was you."

"Then. Let. Me. Go." He pushed against her heel, but it wouldn't budge.

"Not a chance. Your new life is to be a slave in my stone quarry. With you out of the way, we can take the Promise and I will be the new fourth pillar of the thieves' guild. And Benesant has put it into motion!" She laughed with a high-pitched falsetto tha was painful to the ears. "The goddess of light and goodness wants me to be a crime leader!"

"She probably just doesn't care..." Scratch mumbled as he tried to lift us his leg to kick the back of her knee,.

"What's that?" She sunk her weight on his ribcage even harder, making him exhale an unnatural squeeling sound. "Lackey, give this one back to

Mitch." She bended down to whisper into Scratch's ear. "Nobody will believe you."

Then she stood up and turned to Lackey fully. "And tell Screech that after the army gets through, nobody goes in and out of the gate. There's nobody on the list until I get back. No hunters, no defense, nobody."

Nadia leading the small army, and Lackey holding Scratch by the arm all moved towards generally the same direction. Away from the training area and towards the central square.

-

Not at all as one unified whole, but more or less together the child soldiers followed their mother towards the gate.

Eventually, they came past the lectern where Nadia held her addresses. It was nice and central between all the workshops, and right next to the quarry where Lackey was taking the former patriarch.

Just as they got there Scratch suddenly pulled himself away from the older goblin and jumped up on the lectern. "You can't do this to me lady! I'm important you know! I'm *somebody*!"

Nadia turned around and walked towards him, when the child soldiers tried to follow they bumped in and fell over each other.

Before saying a word she pulled her foot back and kicked him powerfully in the stomach. He went flying in the air and fell back on the ground moaning.

"You're nobody around here. You hear me? You're nobody! Lackey, tell Mitch to double the lashes."

Lackey picked him up and dragged him along.

-

When he was delivered to Mitch Lackey said nothing about any of it, but corporal punishment was guaranteed.

"Everybody look here now!" Mitch yelled, "this is what happens to miners that run away. Look closely."

And while being held down on a large smooth rock, he was repeatedly beaten with a thin wooden stick on his back.

At first he spat and cursed, but then he began breathing deeply in and out, finding his rest.

"I don't want to do it, but I will. So stay with your tasks." Mitch said in a rehearsed way, he had done this countless times.

Scratch stumbled a bit painful, the deep red gashes under his dirty bag clothing making it hard to fully move.

Without saying a word he picked up the pick to mimic what the other goblins were doing.

Mitch stayed around to watch him for a while, but when he finally left Scratch immediately dropped the tool to leave again.

-

"I can't even believe it... fucking bitches, I don't even..." he mumbled to the inside of his mouth as he arrived at the workshop next to the square.

Nadia and her army had set out on their warpath by now.

"Yeah. New name, you say me get named just now," he told the attendant while trying not to touch his painful back.

"New name?"

"Yeah, you said you write down whatever Mama say, right? Voila, she said I am Nobody, my name is Nobody."

"..."

"Or do you want to defy her? You know how they treat disobedient children here...."

"Y-yes. No. I'll do it."

The word had a lot of letters, and Scratch kept looking whether an angry Mitch or enforcer goblins would come out the quarry to drag him back in for more canings.

Luckily, it was completed long for such a time. He received a new name tag 'Noboddie' and went with it directly, although not very spritely, to the gate guards.

-

"Who's on the list?"

"Nobody's on the list."

"Good, 'cause I'm Nobody." Scratch showed the softwood rectangle.

Skrietsj looked confused for a moment, but he did not put up any further argument, and let the patriarch pass.

They do make it too easy, don't they?

-

Just as Benesant sat herself back down on her throne, proud of her now more definite punishment for the sinner, he was on his way back to the center of his power.