A disgruntled hobgoblin paced in front of a trio of seated dwarves, watching them taste the platter of pomegranate and rabbit. A pile of coins rested next to it - sorted and stacked. After the dwarf’s initial distrust, his new ‘associate,’ a female dwarf by the name of Belri, went back to her camp and brought back two other dwarves. Together they counted the coins, heard him out, and then gave Strum the go-ahead to offer his sampler.

He watched quietly with Vraz as the dwarves picked apart the food and whispered to each other. The hobgoblin gave Vraz a side-eye as he bristled at a couple of mumbled criticisms of the meal.

Of course, it couldn’t be a perfect dish. Vraz was still learning and Regis didn’t have all the ingredients he wanted. However, Belri was well aware of their current limitations regarding food supply. A contract with these dwarves would remedy that issue.

A loud belch and a few stomach pats signaled that the dwarves had finished their meal and were ready to talk. Strum raised an eyebrow as he looked at Belri. The female dwarf cleared her throat. “It were… Something. When ye first offered food cooked by a goblin, I thought ye were mad. I went along with it fer a couple o’ laughs before we chopped ye down... But..”

Uzal, one of her clanmates, rubbed his hands together. “Ye could sell it. If yer goblin could cook something better, ye could sell it fer even more.”

“I’m glad it meets your approval,” responded Strum. He’d chosen to avoid mentioning Regis for the time being. A goblin that could cook? That was one thing. A dungeon obsessed with becoming a restaurant? Well, that might just trigger the dwarves into launching an assault to take care of the anomaly. Strange dungeons were a risk that races outside of monstrous tended to eliminate. It would also add another layer of bizarreness to this already strange deal - getting far too outside of their comfort zone to accept.

“We’ll take yer goblin cook,” Uzal patted his stomach once again and smiled. “How much fer’em?”

Vraz gave a fake laugh, shaking his head. “Sorry. Not for sale. My food is, but not me.”

“And just how are ye gunna sell us food from yer goblin tribe?” Belri scoffed and shook her head. “Ye can come to our clan. Ye’ll be given a little room to cook. And ye’ll be given ingredients. Happy?” Strum sighed. They were essentially trying to buy Vraz as a slave. That deal didn’t advance his or Regis’ goals at all.

“The idea isn’t to sell food to your clan, at least not at the start. Our operation needs to expand before we can meet that extra demand - it’s simple. You supply ingredients. We pay you. Maybe not always in coins, but valuables. We grow. Eventually, we will be able to meet the demands of your clan and sell food to you. Either by proxy or by some miracle, directly.” Strum explained. Throughout the tribe’s history, they’d accumulated a hoard of shiny things. He intended to siphon off those shiny things and pay the dwarves with them.

Most of it belonged to Rurk, as chieftain. But if Regis started offering to sell his food for coins or valuables? It wouldn’t take long for the goblins to begin to demand that some of that shiny hoard be distributed to them. Part of what made it difficult to charge essence directly was that for the most part, the process felt invasive. Most of the goblins submitted to it since the food was worth it, but given an alternative?

Meaning Rurk would be under additional pressure, he could wring out wealth from the tribe to pay for food. However, the worst-case scenario was if the tribe discovered the dwarves and attempted to raid them for wealth to pay for the food - Such a nightmare situation would be a constant risk.

“And yer tribe? Ye promise they won’t be a problem?” Uzal growled, lips formed into a frown.

“I’ll tell you the extent to how far our territory extends. You inform your clan to stay away from that. We collect deliveries outside the Shadow-Axe tribe territory, you should never run into them. When we look to sell directly to your clan, we’ll figure something out,” Strum worked to ease their worries. “If you see a goblin outside of where I tell you, other than me or my employees, then feel free to chop them down.” Better if any unintentional witnesses were taken care of. Shadow-Axe tribe or not. It didn’t matter to Strum.

Vraz sighed and shook his head, giving Strum a lingering stare. “Your tribe is disgraceful,” the goblin finally stated.

“All ye goblins are disgraceful,” Uzal spat on the ground “But apparently at least one of ye can cook worth a damn. What do you think Belri? Will Ol’Honorstone go for it?”

“We don’t tell’em,” Belri smirked at her fellow dwarf, then turned serious eyes towards Strum. “Not like these greenskins could rat us out - we just say our expedition aint found nothing useful.”

Strum held out a hand to shake - They had just reached the end of a deal. It was the only proper thing to do. Belri scowled at the offered handshake then shook her head and grabbed his hand. His bones popped as the dwarf squeezed. He could see the muscles on her forearms strain before letting him go. He rubbed the sore hand and stemmed any further physical reaction to the pain. “We’ll have a very beneficial future together.”

“Ye better hope so greenskin. My blood tells me it’d be better ta just chop you all down now and be done with it, but my stomach says otherwise. Lucky you.”

“I’m grateful for your wisdom and tolerance,” Strum lied. He didn’t care much to work with these dwarves, but then, their race didn’t amount to much to him. Instead, he weighed them by usefulness.

Talking about expansion with these dwarves began to open up new avenues and questions the hobgoblin hadn’t had before. It also led him to a conclusion he didn’t like much. Rurk and Mallik would become a problem sooner or later. Moreso than they had before. Already he could tell the two of them were shifting around the goblin’s opinions, aiming for different goals.

Rurk was obvious in his plans. Constantly undermining and trying to oust Regis. But he had very little idea of what the shaman had been working to accomplish recently. He didn’t seem to care much about Regis and Strum other than keeping an eye on them. In a way, that indifference was more concerning than the outright aggression on display from their chieftain.

Strum quickly made his farewells to the dwarves, setting up a meeting in a few days in a different spot to go over some more details about their contract and new business relationship. The dwarves allowed Vraz to collect the dishes, then the two groups split off. Vraz mumbled to himself about carrying the dirty dishes. Jilde slipped out of a tree and walked next to Strum, glancing at him enough to make him nervous. Did I make a mistake back there? What did I miss?

Whatever was bothering his employee, she decided not to bring it up. Forcing him to dismiss the concern from his mind. It was better to array his mind against tangible issues he could solve.

And the next issue would be garnering influence within the Shadow-Axe tribe. He hated that it was coming to this. All it meant was more responsibility on his platter. Despite how it might appear to others, Strum did not want power. All he wanted to do was laze away his days, drinking and eating fine food. Management and leadership was a dumb goblin’s game.

Unfortunately, his life had arranged itself against those wishes and provided a new goal. He needed to take Rurk down. Only then would he have more freedom and safety in his maneuverings. He had the perfect tool for the job, a brain-dead goblin that believed he owed him a favor.

“You realize the utter ridiculousness of your request. Asking me to spend such an effort on making amends with Gikx? I’d rather cave in this kitchen and begin anew with another band of useless goblins,” Regis hummed with displeasure, his senses roaming over his most loyal servant, probing into the hobgoblin’s emotions. Despite his surface appearance, there was a note of apprehension flavoring the goblin’s demeanor. Good. Even he realizes the foolishness of bothering with that waste of space.

“Listen, Regis. The dwarves have agreed to a deal with us and will be able to drastically improve your food supplies. There’s also a potential future where the dwarves would buy your food directly. But all of that is impossible if we don’t deal with Rurk. The moment he gets a whiff of any of this, it’ll all be thrown into chaos.” Strum explained in different words for the third time.

Nearby Vraz quietly peeled potatoes with a paring knife, occasionally chuckling as Regis threw out a verbal jab or Strum gave an annoyed sigh.

“You continue to rephrase your statements as if you are under the belief that I do not understand. I fully process the necessity of undermining Rurk, however, I highly disagree with your methodology. Given your excessive repetition, I will mirror you, and repeat myself to make one thing supremely clear. Gikx is a waste of space and time. Any plan you may place into action utilizing that useless goblin is doomed to utter failure.” Regis buzzed, dismissing Strum from his mind and floating over to Vraz to inspect his work closely.

It wasn’t entirely necessary to move his physical form towards the goblin within his domain, but he found that in doing so his employees tended to work more diligently. And currently, Vraz was paying far too much attention to the dead-end conversation Regis was having with Strum and far too little on his own work.

“Regis,” Strum called out. The crystal ignored his servant, focusing his thoughts on their next meal. Now that Vraz had gotten a taste of cooking, they could begin with more fundamental lessons and start reselling their food to the tribe. This deal with the dwarves had the downside of reducing his essence gain, however, it would be worth the price.

Growing through only gaining essence was never a real option. Sooner or later, Regis knew he’d have to charge coin for his food. Though such monetary compensation remained useless to the dungeon on a practical level, he could understand the value of it when dealing with lesser creatures.

“Regis.” This time the hobgoblin said his name in a serious tone. Regis turned his attention to the hobgoblin, his tempering flaring. “You owe me.” Strum pointed out.

The crystal paused, considering the thought. He did owe Strum. He owed the hobgoblin a great deal. “Tell me, Strum. Just how much do you desire for me to make amends with Gikx?”

“It is the easiest path forward. It’s within your best interests,” Strum responded immediately, folding his arms as he tapped his foot. The goblin let out a sigh as the crystal left him hanging in silence for a minute.

“I disagree. However, I require a bit more of an incentive than conceptual debt.” Vraz looked between the two, a frown appearing on his face.

“Haven’t I done enough for you?” The tired hobgoblin pointed out.

“It is because you’ve been so competent that I’m entertaining this strategy of yours at all. Moreso, your continuous value is why I shall greedily and shamelessly press you for more.” The crystal began to glow a deeper red, floating directly in front of Strum. Regis tensed his control over the bond between the two of them, allowing himself to examine it once more.

As he’d grown, certain understandings drifted into his consciousness. Much like the recipes that floated into his mind, his control over his domain and his abilities as a core began to unravel themselves. This bond he shared with Strum had long been a source of curiosity for him, only recently had he begun to shape some awareness of what it was. Even more interesting, he became aware of its future potential. Strum looked at him with worried eyes.

“You would ask more from me? I’m already doing you a favor.”

“I would,” Regis pressed forward, dimly aware the Vraz had completely stopped his task.

“What more is it you want?” Strum took a step backward.

“To deepen our covenant.” Regis declared, catching the hobgoblin off guard. Strum worked his jaw, his face going pale.

“What does that mean?” He finally asked, eyes locked on the crystal.

“Your loyalty towards me will be further cemented. I will have a better understanding of your thoughts, my most useful servant. In return, you shall become… More.”

Strum sat in silence for a minute, whispering his response. “More?”

“You have benefited from our bond with your increased intellect, haven’t you? There will be more benefits if we were to forge a deeper covenant. I’m uncertain exactly what effects it will return, however, I am certain it will change you for the better. In return, your essence will be permanently entwined with mine. If I were to perish, so too would you.”

The hobgoblin looked around the kitchen, then down at his own hands. He clutched them together, his eyes raising to look directly at the dungeon core. “If you were to die, then the hobgoblin I am now would cease to exist anyway,” Strum took a shaky breath. “I agree to this demand. In return… I want you to promise me that you will go along with what I ask when it comes to dealing with problems. I’m tired of the petty games and grudges.”

“I cannot promise that. However, I shall weigh your strategies in my mind as if they were composed of gold. Even if they require detestable actions on my part, such as apologizing to that sniveling goblin."

Strum sighed and unclenched his fists. “I suppose that’s enough for me. You have a deal, Regis."