Chapter 12: Smart Goblins hate Mangoes

His head hurt. The last time his head hurt this bad was during the headbutting match against Big Og, a member of the rival Nuknuk clan, and back then his head had hurt a lot. But that was a throbbing pain, this time it hurt so very deep.

Your intelligence has reached the minimum requirements to allow the System interface.

To view hosts information, think ‘status’.

Now this was weird, especially because Gartook Bobrin Mincer Ug the 3rd definitely knew he could NOT read. So how come he could understand the words in front of him? He paused for a moment to kick the goblin beside him that was fleeing too slowly. He was just trying to increase his hoard, but then a bunch of crazy meatbags started screaming at him and one threw their shiny spell onto him when he tripped over. Next thing he knew, his guards Big Eg and his brother Ig were dead, and his head started hurting so much the only thought he could get into it was to run. Luckily Gartook was a very accomplished goblin. He had never been the biggest, but his running skill was uncontested in the Mincer tribe. It was one of the only things his father had recognized his skill in, but still everyday he complained that Gartook was not big enough to inherit the position of tribe leader.

Why the head hurting more, why wont it stop!

He turned to the side and socked a goblin that had the misfortune of being next to him while he was suffering. After all, suffering should be shared, and Gartook was happy to be the one sharing.

He looked back at the words that still refused to disappear from his vision. Fine, he thought, I will do the words. Status.

Status:

Name: Gartook Bobrin Mincer Ug the 3rd

Race: Goblin (Inferior)

Title: None Equipped.

Level: 5 Class: Goblin Warrior

Strength: 16 Agility: 17

Wisdom: 1 Intelligence: 3[+2]

Vitality: 11 Endurance: 7

Charisma: 2 Luck: 4

Unused Stat Points: 5

He couldn’t understand it. He had done numbers before, as his father had wanted him to count the number of goblins they had. But these numbers were not easy. As he looked at the squiggles some meaning was implanted in his brain, moving past the barrier of illiteracy. As he looked at the different names, the knowledge of what they meant seemed to be implanted right into his mind. After looking at each of them, the bubble of intelligence was what caught his interest. His head hurt too much, and he wanted to be able to think again, and more thinking points should help him on that.

Make my intelligence 1 trillion he thought. He had learned the word trillion once, when some elves they had caught were describing how many goblins there were lurking across many worlds. He was proud of the number, and whenever he forgot how many goblins were in the tribe, he would just tell his father there was a trillion. As he could not count either, this was usually enough to confuse him into just accepting the amount.

But to his dismay, the intelligence only went up to 8. And his other stat went down to 0. He could quickly figure that they must have been spent on making the intelligence go up. He gave himself a pat on the back after realizing this. I have already got far more thinking now. I could even think of this. Gartook is the smartest thinker.

During a narrow 5-minute period in which the blessing was active, a feat of mental acrobatics that could only be described as miraculous occurred and concluded just barely before the blessing disappeared. Earth’s first intelligent goblin was formed. With an intelligence of 8, it was now as smart as most humans. However, at this point Gartook had forgotten all about the handy stat of wisdom, which sat there at a singular one point on his status.

He cast his eyes at the pack of around 30 goblins that had followed him after fleeing from the remaining meatbags. As the leader of this raid group, they had to travel with him, and had run along side him after seeing his mad dash from the church. We started with a pack much bigger than this, he thought, over 2 packs of this size, these meatbags were too smart when they fight. They should just let us shank them a little. Father always said every problem could be solved by shanking it a little.

Speaking of which, he had finally arrived back at his new home. After their clan had been chosen to come to this world, they had to start almost from scratch. But looking at the 30 goblins that followed Gartook, with arms full of shiny objects, he couldn’t help but love the new place he had come to. All the treasure had already been taken by others at our old home, but now here there is treasure everywhere!

He went from person to person, taking the shiniest bits to add to his own collection while patting himself on the back for how smart he was, before sending them all off to the chieftain. He stored the new members of his collection in his equally new house, next to the bodies of some very wide humans who were the previous occupants. They had started to stink, but Gartook found that smell almost reassuring, reminding him of the scent of his old home, and so left them there like a pair of scented candles.

Gartook then sat down and started to concentrate on the words again, calling up his status. Seeing his strength of 16, he decided that he needed to make it higher. His dad wanted the strongest goblin to be chieftain, and the strongest goblin was Mango Doug Mincer the 2nd. Mango knew he was the strongest and would spend every moment mocking Gartook while also trying to get him killed so he could take away any competition for the future position. But Gartook knew that in a new place everyone would get stronger as they killed more prey, just as he had done, and he knew his opportunity to overtake Mango was right in front of him. I will get lots of strength, but I also need a bit more thinking too. I will start with some more thinking, then strength. Until I get a trillion strength and can kill the Mango.

With his foolproof plan for success laid out in front of him, his premature celebration was cruelly interrupted by a bang at his door.

”Chieftain wants Gartook,” A goblin grunted.

He leapt to his feet and proceeded out the door, heading through many corridors before eventually arriving at the only remnant of their previous home. A large cathedral like structure built out of mud and rock with treasure scattered all around, and finally a large black throne that lay imposingly at far end of the hall. Resting on top of the throne was a massive goblin, almost twice the size of Gartook, his father.

“Gartook, you came back with less goblins.”

“But we found lots of treasure.” Gartook replied.

This simple statement seemed to appease the chieftain, who was happy to sacrifice the lives of his clan for any amount of loot.

“We will make more goblins. Mango” he called out, “You are a big goblin, you will go make more big goblins.”

“But Chieftain,” Gartook complained, “I brought back the treasure, do I not get to make more goblins?”

Mango couldn’t resist the opportunity to mock his opponent. “You are small goblin. You would only make small goblins dummy.”

“I am not dummy, I have 8 intelligence now.”

This got a pause from the Goblins in the hall, as very few of them could even count to eight, and even less knew what intelligence was. This big number and big word together must mean something important.

“Gartook, have you been taking from my hoard. Give me this eight in-te-gent.” The chieftain said, going his best to repeat the word.

“It’s not the hoard, smart goblins have big intelligence. Do you know what a trillion is?”

Everyone seemed to nod in agreement, clearly Gartook was on to something. However, the chieftain’s eyes were only filled with disproval as he looked down on his son. “We don’t need smart goblins, we need Mango goblins. You go and become a Mango.”

“I hate Mango” Gartook muttered, but not loud enough for his father to hear as he turned to leave the hall. His father had commanded, and until he had the strength to beat him and become the chieftain himself, he could only obey.