Though I already knew the location of the dome, the reddish goblin led the way as if guiding me. Twitching, or perhaps flickering, he displayed a great deal of pent up energy. His presence was one important enough to clear a path through the nest, however he did not tell me if he had a name.

The cultural norms of goblin names and identify were too strange for beings so simple; I largely ignored it and just spoke with those important enough to have them. However, the presence of red aura that could be seen with seemed like a fairly good indicator of strength. From the way the tKlor’t’t moved, he looked like Khtraal or Ychk, he should be powerful enough to deserve his own name. Then again, Vamp didn’t have a name either for some reason. Such a strange race.

Without introducing himself, and not exactly chatty, we swept through the nest to the mud dome in quiet. Standing next to the aperture of the dome, he didn’t even say anything as he waited for me to enter.

Maybe I don’t want to talk to an underling either.

Stepping inside, the large pit fire roared with three figures sitting around it. Ychk and Khtraal, and then a much larger figure, who must have been Chief tKlor’t’t. By his side was a cauldron filled with various meaty chunks, some of which looked feathery, that he would occasionally shovel into his mouth like a handful of popcorn. For a second I thought of using to make it taste like popcorn too, but restrained myself.

Their guest having arrived, the three stood up. tKlor’t’t looked over in curiosity, as Khtraal watched tKlo’t’t, and Ychk in turn watched all of us, stepping back from the fire as his position was the lowest amongst us. It seemed I counted as an ‘honorary chief’ of some sort, surpassing his position of visiting dignitary. Proximity to the flame was an odd way to display social standing, but all such things are rather arbitrary, aren’t they?

“So you are the human Alric?” Chief tKlor’t’t moved towards me as though he were a ghôl, even hunched over he far surpassed the size of his fellow chief, both in height and girth. “You are much taller than I anticipated. I am the goblin Chief tKlor’t’t, Manyretch in your tongue; named after the number of spawn I have created. Such is where the name of my nest tGarb’t’t, Manyspawn, comes from.” Despite being rather large, I did stand the better part of a foot over him.

He may have been shorter, but realistically speaking with his broad body and stocky limbs, he physically should have resembled a stocky mountain, or perhaps a troll. Yet that sort of air was totally absent from him, and the counter-impression was only reinforced by his exquisite and expository speech. The voice made shouldn’t have been able to be produced by such a goblin, there were no traits of variation from his smaller kin other than his massive size and enlarged frame. The Chief had the appearance of a Boss Monster, not a powerful Variant.

He spoke smoothly, in voice and meaning, putting even Khtraal’s rather adept Derrish to shame. Fully explaining things, tKlor’t’t’s eyes hinted with wisdom underneath those sagging bits of flesh where eyebrows should have been. Instead of a beastly creature, he was more reminiscent of those clever folk who played as monsters to lure enemies into a false sense of security.

This chief was the sort to be praised, while at the same time watching your back.

“I am indeed Alric, a human magic user.” I responded with some of my own cards. While tricky, if you did not run afoul of them, they were excellent allies. They were usually able to see the forest through the trees and not betray those who would benefit them in the long run. “I fought alongside Iyrkraal to break the Uhkhjk wargs.”

We entered a standoff, staring at each other with only the crackling of the flames beside us. Unlike a show of dominance, it meant nothing more than an evaluation of the opposite party. Wordlessly and without incident, we turned back to the fire, and everyone returned to the floor.

“So, why have you requested my presence? I doubt we’re here to cozily sit around the fire and eat chikan.” I gazed through the fire, casting a glance at tKlor’t’t to my right. Proper goblin etiquette (hah!) had the members sit equidistantly from each other around the flames. Despite his lax mouth, he smirked before ripping off a small piece of meat from a chikan.

“Our contract was fulfilled today as well. Chikans I collected would be given to you. tKlor’t’t happened to scour the forest for some to eat as well.” Khtraal explained himself levelly, as if the matter had nothing to do with him. Ychk on the other hand narrowed his eyes at the excuse. “Your presence is not something that has gone unnoticed, your strength is that of a Chief. I have received threats from other tribes, and they will band together if your existence continues. I could say you were killed when you depart, but then I will lose an advantage. I will trap them, and use you to strike.”

“Tell me more about the plan before we negotiate further. Just how many enemies are there, and how do you expect to defeat them?” Goblin warfare wasn’t something where precision warfare was useful. In the first skirmish, the numbers there were small in retrospect, tactics couldn’t be implemented on a larger scale. With the exception of the elite units, it was a meatgrinder of numbers. When dealing with armies in the order of hundreds of thousands, trying to be clever didn’t usually work out.

Which meant dealing with multiple enemies each on the same scale as you was a terrible idea. Goblins ate relatively little—otherwise the forest would have been reduced to nothing long ago—so logistics were also much simpler. Don’t forget the fact that a fallen comrade also made a good meal. Lacking many characteristics of a human army, travel didn’t matter much, weaponry and training added little, they only needed to sleep four hours, requiring no lodgings, and on such a large scale, a single two or three multiplier meant an additional few hundred thousand marching on you. Nests were important, but in some part goblins were the nest, they didn’t require supply lines and other conventional human limitations.

I was very intrigued by how Khtraal thought he was going to outmaneuver the other chiefs.

“Split and swarm. They believe that tKlor’t’t is spying for them when he is working for me. Four other tribes plot against me, and with the info tKlor’t’t has given me, I have devised a way to destroy them. Your, alongside Iyrkraal, Khthju and the majority of our warg riders will all strike at one position. Securing a quick victory, the army you accompany will reinforce the other groups. You will report back to me at the end, to be dispatched to an appropriate battlefield before the task is complete.”

“I see.” I see this sounds suspicious. tKlor’t’t had been subtly trying to gauge both myself and Khtraal; there were several more layers I’d yet to uncover, “In that case, I would like to ask you to grant me the finest sword and spear in your possession as payment. It need not be done before the war, I just need the very best.” There was no way some part of this deal wasn’t faulty, but I could make it through anyway.

“Excellent. Ychk, go find our best weapons to deliver to Alric. tKlor’t’t, inform him of the plans, Khthju will need to be told as well, but he is not allowed within.”

“As you say Chief Khtraal. Follow me outside, human.” Ychk had already gotten up, and I noticed a look of satisfaction on the chief’s face before he entered one of the interior huts. A sardonic smile appeared on the mountainous goblin’s face and he received one in return. It looked like the only one out of the loop was the one trying to pull the wool over our eyes.

Letting him lead the way, Chief tKlor’t’t knuckle walked to the outside. The red goblin, Khthju, Longhair, I guessed, awaited impatiently. The ground near where he’d been waiting had faint scorch marks, although they’d been scuffed around with the dirt in many places.

“Follow me. We are going to discuss the plan in a private location.” Khthju looked oddly at his chief, and then to me in confusion. “Speak the human voice in his presence. He will be part of it.”

“Says the chief.” The tKlor’t’t responded after a moment of struggling what to use as his words. Falling behind the two of us, his confusion implied this likely wasn’t a trap, but I devoted a bit of my mind to him in case he was a good actor. We moved forward to the northeast, where I usually went after collecting my chikans. The links with the skeletons were all still fine, but the broad chief wasn’t totally ignorant of my movements.

“So why did you agree so easily to that foolish raal’s plan? Especially that parting shot of his, you have full awareness of his plots.” After a while of walking, observing the surroundings carefully, Chief tKlor’t’t began a conversation as we moved.

“I must say I’m certainly not aware of all of his plots; that’s why I’m taking the time to discuss things with you. He clearly made an effort to put the two of us on bad terms. Choosing between myself and your subordinate—a pity that like the matter of the chikans, I don’t particularly care all that much; even if hadn’t noticed, you still could have spoken to me without ill will on my part.”

“Khehge, how amusing. I should lead with the fact he likely isn’t trying to kill us, it would just be a happy side effect for him. At least, not yet he isn’t. This is something I’ve taken into account, but I do plan to honestly help him. Is your course of action going to be detrimental to him?”

“You can tell Khthju to calm down; I do plan to help Khtraal. No matter what, I can always escape, so I see no harm going along with him.” I smirked, unnecessarily turning my head sideways, so the red goblin and I could see each other’s faces. Unintentionally, or just without thinking, I noticed the air near his palms distort. “Besides, it seems this fiery fellow will be by my side. What a magnificent spawn. I’d say he almost matches Vamp.”

With agility unbecoming of his size, tKlor’t’t swung his arm back at great speed. Khthju didn’t know what hit him, and skid across the leafy forest floor. Despite the impact of the meaty hand sending him over a dozen feet, the wounds he suffered looked superficial. Still dazed, he started to get up in a kneeling position, then quickly rushed towards the continuing forms of myself and his Chief.

“You have quite the ability to incite people, yet you were still confident. If you could fight as Gorbwrae did—indeed, when you say ‘Vamp’ do you mean the black toothed Iyrkraal?”

“Yes, is Gorbwrae his actual name? Vamp is short for *vampire*, a rising dead from my homeland; they have pale skin, do not tire, and have sharp fangs. It seemed to suit him.”

“Hm, I thought you looked different from other humans I’ve seen. I believe ■undead■ is the word used by humans for that kind of being here. And he has no name for a related reason. Humans aren’t oft fond of learning about our reproduction, so I will cut to the chase by saying I believe he is part undead. The method Iyrkraal uses to produce his children is taboo, for which he has been outcast, but a goblin with undead heritage crosses a certain line. Iyrkraal has kept him with as low profile as possible, though that does not work well considering his abilities. Were word to get out, some chiefs would crusade against him, able to rally all the nearby tribes to fully exterminate him.”

“That seems like quite the reaction, considering how you speak of him.”

“As you might have guessed, while not taboo, my methods of creating spawn are unorthodox. Gorbwrae is an excellent fighter, but there is a fatal flaw in his body. In our language Gorbwrae means birthless, but neither can he spawn from the gut or blood. Yet he consumes much more than I would in battle. To me, this is too wasteful, but not to the point where I have an enmity with him and Iyrkraal. Though that raal irks me for other matters….

“To the other chiefs, the undead are a terrible thing. Unable to be eaten after battle and most are resistant to the bulk of our attacks, they are wasteful. When they come, they weaken the nest. In human terms, they would best be referred to as a famine. Undead appear only rarely, but when they do, it is usually around large battlefields.”

tKlor’t’t spoke those last words slowly in implication. Very close in your guess, good chief, but not exactly. Though if you accept Vamp for who he is...well, I have never once been wasteful with corpses.

“Oh? Is that why we’ve come to this battlefield? To search for undead? My, there’s not much point is there, all these bodies were already going to waste.”

Indeed, though we entered what should have been the battlefield a while ago, most of the bodies long since vanished. Dustcaps sprouted up from the bodies near the edge, and other decomposers also worked their way in. Goblins hadn’t approached this area in quite a while.

“It is quite curious. Usually there would be more bodies, or swarms of flies or beetles. There are many patches where the bloodscape has completely vanished in fairly circular patterns. If an undead is at work, it is more intelligent than most. Perhaps it could be bartered with to help us?”

“You’re making me blush.” I laughed at his amusing lead in. Then I slowly halted amidst the corpses and giblets. I asked in a grave tone, “Would you and your spawn really work with the undead?”

“So long as what is mine does not suffer, then yes.”

The response wasn’t one of altruism, but greed. It may be fickle with allegiances, but it is a very honest feeling. So long as what belonged to him did not suffer, I had no doubt that he would stick to his word.

“Well it’s a pity I’m not undead.” I shrugged, and the Chief’s eyes narrowed in irritation. I held up a finger before he could speak. “However…”

With a flourish, my hand gestured across the battlefield. Piles of flesh fell away, and skeletons removed themselves from gutted bodies. Spryly getting up shaking themselves as if their limbs had fallen asleep, one after the other rose to their feet. Covered in blood, and flicking off flesh, under the trees a forest of bones stood at parade rest.

“I am a *Necromancer*.”