A sleepy village lied between grassy hills, like a head resting on a pillow. A light wind was blowing away the smoke rising from chimneys. Faint lights and murmurs filled the air. The small settlement was peaceful and plentiful. It had fields of wheat, livestock and well-built houses. It sat in the open like a rich apple, ripe for the taking. “Are you ready Rugum?” Clara whispered in the goblin language. She clutched a piece of parchment that Gild had given her. He ordered her not to open it, and to drop it into the area once the raid was done. She did not know what was written in it, but Rugum had his guesses. Rugum looked at his troops. They were well armoured and in possession of new magic gems. He shook his head. There was one final step. He dunked his face and hands into a bucket of boar blood, concealing his ochre skin. The others followed suit. “Ready,” he whispered back in poor human language. He jumped onto the back of a trained Glimmer Goat; others followed suit. “Let’s go!” He commanded. A small troop of 6 goblins and a human charged towards the unassuming village. The village had a wall, a fence to be precise, but nothing that could stop them. They leapt over and broke through their paltry defence. Burning arrows, blazing torches and fiery magic set the thatch roofs ablaze. Windows and walls were battered and trashed by arrows and rocks. The goblins' wretched cackling masked the screams of the villagers. “Goblins!” A young voice cried. “Run for your lives!” The resident's village burst out from their doors, holding their family by their hands. Their faces paled as the mounted red skinned goblins brought devastation upon them. The goblins knocked and launched arrows at fleeing villagers, killing a fair few. A few brave souls took up arms. They brandished pitchforks and woodcutter's axes and huddled together against the charging goblins. Yet none of them stood a chance against their spears or magic bolts of flame. An elderly man tried to muster the strength to lift an axe. But Rugum launched a single arrow into the man’s heart, killing him. The goblins ran into houses to ransack them before they burned down. They circled through the town's roads, instilling fear into anyone who didn't flee. Their mission, however, was more complex than raiding a human village. They had to spare as many humans as possible but kill enough for the local ruler to act. They had to burn buildings, but only a few of them. As the people fled in tears from their homes, the goblins got to work. Clara walked into the village, leading a small caravan of empty carts. The goblins jumped off from their goats and began looting everything. The unharvested fields were quickly cut by a goblin who spent most of his days farming. All the livestock was tied up by a herder and led away from the burning buildings. Metalworks and tools were scavenged and piled together. All bits of food and valuables were retrieved and dumped into the empty cart. They now had more resources to fill their war effort. But Rugum’s face was grim, for this was the first of many raids they had to do. Clara took out her paper, dropped it onto the ground, and kicked some dirt upon it. It was time to execute the second part of their plan. Under the still-standing homes, they would hide barrels of explosive oil. A crystal-thrall would lie and wait until people went to bed, after which it would take its own life. Shallow pits were dug with haste, then filled with barrels of the Gulks' product. They prayed that everything would go according to plan. “Good job out there!” Clara commended him, patting him on the back. He felt his heart lighten. “Where next?” He asked in her language. She pulled out a map and showed him. There was another settlement further east. The new terrain was unfamiliar to them. Empty hills and plains covered the land of Ovolenskia. The Amber Skins could not rely on the cloak of the forest. They had to tread with care, lest they wanted to be spotted. Clara pointed to the map, and Rugum nodded. They set off for the next town, attempting to reach it before the sun could rise. The trip there was silent, as they stealthily rode through the night. Rugum looked at Clara, who was staring at the road ahead. He raised his hand, then hesitated, before putting it back down. “Clara,” he whispered. She snapped out of her daze and turned to him. “Yes?” “What are you-” He paused his sentence, as he was missing a word. He tapped on his forehead. “What am I thinking?” She copied the gesture, and Rugum nodded. “Hmm... I’m thinking about how many more raids am I going to have to do.” He did not understand her words very well. Rugum picked up “how many”, “raids” and “do.” Looking upon her face, it was clear that she was pensive. Rugum picked up a piece of stolen bread and tossed it to her. “I don’t like fighting. Hunting is better.” Clara picked up the bread, and silently stared at Rugum, before biting into the loaf. Their journey continued in silence until they reached the next raid site.