"Your Holiness, that's when Dukmuk covered my stone engraving with mud!" A goblin with a warty nose cried. Another goblin with short curly hair scoffed. "That's a lie! It got muddy because you left it outside, but you tampered with my clay pots while they were drying! They're all cracked now!" He yelled. "Your Heavenly Greatness, please make Furgu pay for this crime!" I rubbed my temples, it was the fifth inane conflict this week. But I had to admit, it was fortunate that nothing serious was ever brought up. "Both of you are at fault!" I growled. The goblins' faces paled. "I'm innocent!" One wailed. "I didn't do anything wrong!" The other squealed. "Silence! You are artisans, yet you both committed the crime of negligence!" I slammed my fist into my rock throne. The goblins' eyes widened in fear, they knelt in front of me. "Whether it was sabotage or a personal error, you still neglected to take care of your craft!" "Yes! Your words are wise!" They cried in unison. I sighed. "I do not want you to leave with enmity in your hearts. From now on, you must not engage in petty squabbles. Continue practising your crafts with renewed vigour, and love for your fellow goblins!" Their expressions beaming with joy as if they had received divine providence. "The chief is right! Let's work together!" They squawked. They hugged each other and merrily trotted off back to work. I lazily slid down my throne, and took a sip of some fermented mushroom juice, to ease my headache. The full flavour of the wine settled my nerves until my next headache walked in. "Your Excellency, I have come to present you an offering." Olma walked in carrying an iron spear. The spearhead had an image of a goat head engraved onto it. The end of the spear had a magnificently dyed red tassel, and the shaft was smooth and polished. I accepted the spear in silence, observing Olma's face. Her face had a neutral expression. It was clear to me that she was still upset. I rested my head on my hand. "Do you know why you are the only girl I ever let approach me?" Her face furrowed, trying to guess the meaning of my words. "I do not know." I let out a single laugh. "You said it yourself. Because you are the most worthy." Her mouth opened slightly in confusion, she tried to say something, but she could not utter the words. Her gaze became unfocused, and she blankly stared at the ground. "Olma... Don't be jealous of others. I truly do like you. You have talent and cunning." I stood up from my throne and raised her from the ground. "Let us strive for greater heights together." Her blank face turned into her normal gentle smile, and she wrapped her hands around me. "My hero Gild, you have a certain way with words." I cleared my throat. "Now, let's go to my room. Let's talk more in private." She giggled and followed me to my quarters. The next week, the final few pregnant women had given birth. Now almost all the women had become mothers. It would take a few years for the newborns to be able to feed themselves or work. Until then it was our job to protect them and nurture them. Interface Population 63

That night, the atmosphere at the evening banquet was very merry. As I looked at the goblins, I could help but feel a strange emotion in my heart. Not very long ago, these goblins ate scraps and wore rags today we enjoyed fine meals in furs and cashmere. But I wouldn't stop here.

As I lifted my cup to sip on my wine, the liquid began to ripple. Shortly after, the ground began to rumble, causing our plates and tables to shake. A large bang caused all our furniture to fall over. One could hear the muffled sounds of explosions coming from the outside. “Women and children to the vault! Everyone else, take up arms!” I roared. The entire hall went into a frenzy. The warriors equipped their new gear, while everyone else ran down to the bottom of the mine. We rushed outside and climbed the watchtowers, but there weren’t any enemies. Bursts of prismatic light illuminated the night sky. The sound of crackling thunder and explosions resonated in our bodies. It was like a violent and chaotic aurora borealis. The vicious aerial display mesmerised us, but we remained vigilant. One could see howling winds and flying boulders swirling around in a tornado in the heart of the forest. In the blink of an eye, everything went up in a flash of fire, the tornado became a swirling whirlpool of flames. The fire turned green and faded into tiny embers. The sounds of explosions and thunder continued far into the morning. The sounds of battle died down along with the rising of the sun. As breathed relieved sighs, a 40-metre blue mushroom cloud ignited in the middle of the forest. A shockwave knocked a few of us from our feet, and parts of our wooden walls tumbled over. As the shockwave passed, I gazed into the distance and a blue mushroom cloud rose into the sky. My hand and knees were buckling. "What could have done that?" I asked myself in horror. Dark clouds blanketed the sky, causing a torrential downpour over the entire forest. Upon regaining my bearings, I created flood channels leading to the river, with magic, to avoid a flood. The rain continued without end for 7 days. Only on the 8th day did the downpour diminish. I assembled all our fighters and headed into the forest to discover what happened. As we trekked through the forest, it became obvious what happened. There were large boulders peppered everywhere, deep cracks riddled the ground. Some trees were burnt, cut in half or uprooted. As we travelled further, the land became more broken and barren. It was obvious that a fight took place here, but about what kind of forces were capable of this, we were clueless. Further in, there were no more trees left. The soil consisted of a mixture of ash and mud. We ventured forward until we reached a giant burned crater, the size of a hamlet. Upon seeing this absolute destruction, I shuddered. This was a solemn realisation to me, that there were forces in this world, far greater than my own. As I contemplated my inferiority, a goblin scout spoke. “Chief! Look, it's those frog people!” With my thoughts restored, my gaze turned sharp, indeed it was those same frogmen from the bog. But it was unclear what they were doing here. We had no interaction with them apart from that one encounter. “They must be having a field day with all this rain,” one goblin pointed out. The frogmen gathered in the centre of the crater, and they were worshipping some sort of object. A knife of some sort. A fat frog person stepped in front of them and flailed the knife. The creature gave an impassioned speech in their language of croaks and gurgles. A silver cloud manifested behind the fat frog, and upon its command, the cloud began to rain daggers! With a wave of the knife, the frogman controlled the cloud. He made it grow in size, causing more daggers to rain down, he moved it back and forth and changed its shape. The worshippers cheered with an ear-bleeding cacophony of croaks. They brought out one of those giant frogs, but it was gargantuan. If a normal giant frog was the size of a van, then this frog was the size of a small house. They began repeating some sort of chant, and the frogman leader used the rain of daggers upon the giant frog. They fell upon the fog, stabbing and piercing it a thousand times. The beast laid dead, and the frogmen cheered, rejoicing at the successful sacrifice. Upon viewing the might of that weapon my mind began racing with questions and desire. We had to get our hands on that dagger! With it, we would not have to fear any other goblins tribes or even bandits. This forest could be ours!