Vraz held the lukewarm platter of prepared food in his hands as he trailed behind Strum over the mildew-ridden ground of the forest. A yawn escaped his lips as he looked at the setting sun. Sure, goblin’s could see in the dark given their cave-dwelling heritage, but for the most part, they weren’t nocturnal creatures. Except for a couple of oddballs in the tribe who kept leaving in the middle of the night.

The shaman of the Shadow-Axe tribe often gave his clergy strange instructions. Several times now Vraz caught Pox wandering off with either Vulsi or Yrx, also fellow disciples of Mallik. Though all of them refused to explain what they were up to, and Vraz simply left to continue his midnight strolls.

Not that it mattered. Aside from his new boss, and Strum, the rest of this tribe could bury themselves in a pit for all he cared. Even Mallik - who promised him rewards and glory if only he could keep an eye on Regis for the shaman. He would be damned if he cooperated with those who caused the destruction of his tribe. Mallik claimed he had no part in the execution of the Rust-Moon tribe. Vraz knew better. He knew that a goblin tribe never went to war without their shaman’s blessing.

If it wasn’t for Strum, Vraz would be dead in a pit like his kin. Not that Strum saved him from the goodness in his heart- Strum made it clear he spared him to use him. That was understandable. Vraz was okay with being used. As long as he got something out of it. One thing remained crystal clear, Strum hadn’t been involved in the war.

He owed Strum. This ‘job’ Strum had given him brought meaning to his life. Regis could be a royal pain, but the dungeon held a source of knowledge so vast and unimaginable that it inspired Vraz. It made it worth dealing with the Regis’ constant chiding and prodding. Passion ignited in him. Burning away the emotional turmoil left in the wake of his clan’s passing. This flame of resolve held him together, along with another simple belief.

One day, Regis would inevitably lead to the downfall of this damned tribe. You didn’t need Strum’s intellect to pick up on the tension the dungeon caused within the tribe. After spending a single day with the dungeon the conclusion to their spat seemed inevitable. Somehow or someway, this dungeon and its servants would destroy the Shadow-Axe clan.

I intend to be there when they do. His knuckles went white as he gripped the platter. This meal would be a gift to the dwarves. An old enemy of the Rust-Moon tribe. But perhaps the dwarves would be the catalyst to the end of the Shadow-Axe tribe.

Vraz let loose another loud yawn and received a sharp look from Strum. The hobgoblin massaged his forehead and sighed. All along the way to these dwarves, Strum kept stressing the need for stealth.

The way Vraz saw it, they were delivering food to a bunch of short paranoid pink-skins. What did stealth matter when your end goal was to give the dwarves food?

As for what this would accomplish, Vraz remained uncertain. Likely the dwarves would be startled about the dungeon and attack the Shadow-Axe tribe. Which would work to Vraz’s benefit - he’d simply pocket Regis and flee during the chaos. He’d talk Strum into coming along too, after all, he owed the hobgoblin his life. Then his debt to the hobgoblin would be squared away.

Saving Regis was a simple decision. The dungeon could continue cooking and teaching him. All the better with the horrible Shadow-Axe clan out of the picture. It wasn’t like he had a growing fondness for that egotistical jewel. No, not at all.

Vraz snapped another twig as he walked, shrugging at the lingering glare Strum gave him. Grumpy today, isn’t he?

It concerned the goblin that the food would be delivered cold. Regardless of if it was being served to an old enemy, Vraz couldn’t help the little hit to his pride that the dish wouldn’t be served the best it could be. After all the effort they went to make it. The pain of being stung - It seemed unfair.

“Stop for a moment,” Strum commanded. The stern hobgoblin peered back into the treeline behind them. Likely looking for Jilde, their ‘backup’ for this expedition. The lunatic half-goblin darted around in the shadows behind them with her handmade bow.

She was an outcast from the rest of the tribe on account of her mixed heritage. Jilde was half gremlin. A gangly goblin with her almost grey skin, big floppy ears, and spaded tail. Fiercely loyal to Strum. Vraz personally didn’t talk to Jilde much. Her creepy cackling and intimidating appearance made him keep his distance. As for Strum’s other employee, Wort… Well, Wort held the prestigious title of dumbest in the entire tribe, without any real competition. A unique low in a tribe of uneducated goblins. Which was probably why Strum neglected to include him in this outing.

After a few seconds, Jilde walked out of the brush, a goofy smile on her face that exposed pointed fangs. Vraz shivered. The half-goblin cleared her throat and spoke in her unerringly light-and-bouncy tone. “Why stop? Aww, did-ya-wanna talk to me?” the goblin cackled, an unpleasant noise that reminded Vraz of two stones grinding together.

“Yea, I did. We’re getting close,” Strum stopped massaging his temple and rolled his shoulders.

“And-ya-wanted alone time with me?” Jilde batted her eyelashes at Strum, followed by a snarl at Vraz. “Take-a-hint-and-beat-it, scrawny.”

Vraz looked between the two of them. Strum was about to let loose another drawn-out sigh. With a slight smirk, Vraz decided to cause trouble. “He did say he wanted to ask you a very important question. Something private?”

Jilde went wide-eyed and her mouth plopped open - exposing more of those dangerously pointed teeth. Her eyes remained glued to Strum, fingers nervously fiddling with her bow’s string. Strum shook his head and finally let out that pent-up dramatic sigh. Predictable. Vraz chuckled to himself.

“He did? Then why-ya-still-hanging around, scrawny? Beat-it.” Jilde repeated herself, this time without a snarl in his direction. She was far too focused on Strum to pay him any more attention.

“No, no. Sorry, Vraz is just, er. He’s messing around. I need to talk to both of you to get the plan straight,” Strum explained. Jilde frowned and sent a glare in Vraz’s direction. With a smirk, Vraz gave the girl a wink. Her expression darkened and another snarl escaped her. There it is. Like playing a beat on a drum.

“Ah, well-if-ya-say-so,” Jilde shook her head. Already setting herself back on task. Even with his limited knowledge of her, Vraz knew the goblin woman had remarkable focus. She only really got distracted when a certain moody hobgoblin entered the picture. “If’n ya-would-like-to have a…” the goblin woman trailed off and fidgeted with her bow again. “-Er, nevermind.”

Honestly, the two of them irked Vraz. He just wanted to shove them in a cave and yell at them to work it out. Strum was too focused on an egotistical crystal and the problems that came with it to notice the goblin right in front of him.

“Right. Then if we’re all focused-,” Strum glared at Vraz. The scrawny goblin smiled at him. Sometimes it was too much fun provoking people. It used to land him in a lotta hot water back with his family. The smile slipped from Vraz’s face at the pang of loss. Sometimes that ended up being far too easy to forget. Even if only for a second. “This is going to be dangerous. I’ve tried to think of all the possible angles. Trying to leave the food with a note or approaching directly while offering the food… Choices I don’t think will end well. Er… Either the dwarves will disregard the offering or attack. This has a massive chance of backfiring. But, sometimes you have to take risks,” Strum took a deep breath and Vraz saw a bead of sweat appear on his brow.

“And?” Vraz interrupted, choosing to make the hobgoblin cut to the chase. If Strum is going to send me in alone with the food-

“-I’m going to go in alone. Jilde will find a dwarf who is either scouting or er, wandering about, I’m going to approach and explain myself. Then when I give the go-to, Vraz will bring Regis’ food, if things go wrong, Jilde will take out the dwarf with a bow, then we run.”

So this ends with a dwarf either wounded or dead. I was right about this being a cornerstone to the downfall of the Shadow-Axe tribe. Dwarves took attacks on their clans very seriously. Attacking one dwarf could be considered the equivalent of attacking the entire clan. They would hunt down the perpetrators.

Vraz had considered Strum incredibly intelligent, but it seemed he was wrong. Maybe the hobgoblin developed some kind of death wish after working for Regis for so long?

“Nuh-uh. Ya-would-have-to-be crazy to think ya-can just go in like that,” Jilde shook her head, her tail sharply whacking the ground. “We ain’t gunna send-ya-in alone. What’s wrong with leaving-a… Didja call it a note?”

“Can you read?” asked Strum.

“Uh,” Jilde replied, blushing. Vraz shook his head. Reading was typically only left to those in the clergy in the Rust-Moon tribe. He certainly couldn’t read - and the Rust-Moon tribe educated their little goblins. Ground-Father be damned if anyone in this cursed tribe could, aside from maybe Mallik.

“I know how. But the way I learned isn’t something just any other goblins could do. These dwarves - The way Vraz described them. I could be wrong, but I don’t see why they would have much of a need to read or write. Even if they did, who would trust a bundle of food left on the forest ground with a note?” He has a point. Not like we poisoned it or anything, though.

Vraz paused as he considered the familiar thought, then disregarded it once again. No, not a chance I could get away with something like that with Regis hovering over my shoulder. Besides, the ‘debt’ he owed Rurk for killing his tribe was massive. Simply poisoning the chieftain didn’t feel like it fully paid that bastard back. He needed the entire Shadow-Axe tribe destroyed.

In a brief summation, Strum finished explaining his plan. Sealing with a complete degree of certainty for Vraz that this expedition was going to end in bloodshed.

Strum fidgeted with his leather tunic, clicking his teeth together and occasionally wiping sweat from his brow. Crouched in a bush next to Vraz in the middle of the night; just outside of the range of a campfire surrounded by dwarves. The dungeon thought that quality food would be all the motivation the dwarves needed to cooperate with goblins. He was wrong, sure a nice meal would maybe improve the dwarves’ disposition but it wouldn’t change a long history of conflict between the two races.

At the end of the day, they were dwarves, and Strum and his tribe were goblins. What he needed was a powerful force that could twist morals and make people set aside their reservations.

Jilde scampered down from a nearby tree and whispered in his ear “Alright, are-ya-ready? One of ‘em just left the fire,” It was alarming how quickly the woman could scale trees. Strum shook his head and sighed. Once again lucky to have such a dedicated individual under his employment. He’d have to make sure to get that loyal goblin something special from the kitchen soon. Maybe talk Regis into making her a dessert. “That direction,” Jilde pointed to the distance.

“Yea I’m good to go. Keep your eyes peeled,” Strum replied, adjusting his leather tunic once again and wiping off his brow for the last time. First impressions were important. Given he had a lot going against him for this particular first impression, Strum needed to do his best to improve himself in any way he could.

For this outing, he wore his finest leather tunic - one decorated with multiple soft red cardinal feathers. It was well stitched together, the closest thing to formal attire a goblin tribe ever reached.

“Ya-ah-look-good, go’get’em,” Jilde said softly as Strum stood up from the bush and brushed himself off. He gave her a small smile then focused back on the task at hand. This was certainly a dangerous situation, one that required his full focus. It helped to know he had such a dependable goblin had his back in case things fell apart. He walked through the forest, careful to keep his pace calm and confident. He didn’t want this dwarf to consider him to be a typical goblin, the entire plan hinged on putting the dwarf off of its preconceived notions.

Ahead of him, a small figure paced around the edge of the bushes. Dwarf. Her hand clutched around an ax hefted on her shoulder, causing Strum to stumble and pause. Collecting himself, the goblin pushed forward.

“Huh?” The dwarf called out as Strum moved closer. “Whose that? Uzal I told ya to get yer rest, It’s mah turn to watch.”

“No, I’m not Uzal. My name is Strum,” called out the hobgoblin goblin, his pointy ears and green skin coming into view for the dwarf. She uttered a curse and tensed up, her axe coming off her shoulder as her posture shifted to a battle stance. Strum paused, keeping his distance as the dwarf stared him down. After her initial reaction, a look of confusion appeared on her face.

“Didja just say somethin’ greenskin?” she finally called out, her eyes shifting around as she scanned the nearby bushes. Strum hoped Jilde was tucked away well enough not to be spotted. Otherwise, this critical moment would get bloody.

“Yeah- My name is Strum by the way. May I have the pleasure of your name?” replied the goblin, keeping his tone relaxed. The dwarf raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t matter much, does it greenskin?” the dwarf said, tapping her axe against the leather armor coating her leg.

“Well if we’re going to be doing business together, it’s best to know each other's names.”

The dwarf scoffed. “Now what business would I have with a greenskin?”

Strum unveiled his trump card, pulling out a leather pouch hidden in his tunic. He tossed it on the ground in front of the dwarf, who rapidly stepped back and raised her defenses. She froze as she noticed it was just a jingling sack and not some deadly poison bomb.

“Eh?” she grunted as she looked between the goblin and the sack.

“Go ahead and look inside,” Strum made sure to keep his empty palms visible. No tricks here.

The dwarf kicked the bag on its side, spilling the contents onto the dirt ground. A dozen silver and bronze coins rolled out and clattered outside of the bag. The dwarf looked between the spilled coin on the ground and the goblin. Her mouth opened and shut several times as she tried to find her words.

“Now, you could just keep that and walk away. But, if we were to come to an arrangement there will be a lot more than that in your future…”