The next morning, we raced through the ragged valleys with driving sleet whipping at our backs. It was as if the northern most plains of the continent wanted us to leave, almost as much as we did. As we crested the highest point on our route over the mountains between two towering giants of jagged stone, I took a brief moment to look back across the bleak expanse after an hour of travel. Visibility was poor but I could still make out aspects of the harsh-looking landscape. While I was eager to leave it behind in many ways, this place symbolised a huge turning point for me. Not only with my rapidly growing powers but in my mentality too. I had fought alongside some of the toughest people this world had to offer, and walked away alive after a decisive victory greater than we could have ever dreamed. That had to count for something. Maybe I was worthy of a little power after all, and maybe that was the wrong way to think about it.

A few mile further, we emerged from the worst of the wind. Sania pointed ahead and off to our right. “Goblin,” was all she said, before alerting Danivra and Grigor through the bond as to our change of course. My hopes of a little conversation were dashed, when he saw our approach and scurried off as fast as his little. green legs could carry him over the nearest ridge. Despite being out of sight, he let out a high-pitched screech, the sound reverberating from the mountain sides to easily reach our ears, even at our elevated position.

Moments later, we saw a flurry of activity as previously hidden goblins, on hearing the shriek, went running. All of them darting in the same direction.

“I don’t think it’s going to take long to find the camp, do you?” I said, laughing at the speed by which they carelessly led the way for us to track down their home.

“They’re really not very intelligent are they?” Sania replied. “Still, they’ll add to our numbers. If they can be convinced.”

As we followed from a distance, I found myself awed by their ability to quickly drop into shadows. They moved like scampering wraiths, showing remarkable agility. It didn’t help them, as Sania and Olata could see with great accuracy for miles. Added to that, I was certainly feeling the +5 boost to Perception I received from my Pit Demon Evolution.

We covered the remaining distance, which I judged to be around ten miles, in just over an hour. Their sizeable camp consisted of several small fires, rocky ground, and drying animal pelts. The huge form of Freeler, the Bugbear and former Chief of Rattayak was seated by a larger fire in the centre, drinking from a leather sack. The Head Warrior and hobgoblin, Glaunk sat with him, in deep conversation with one another. They stopped as the goblins we had followed ran into the clearing screeching and pointing up in our direction.

Freeler swayed as he jumped to his feet, shouting at the goblins for leading an enemy to their camp, before grabbing the heavy, metal adorned club, Bone Basher which he proceeded to wave menacingly in the air at us. Glaunk stood by his side, shield up and sword drawn. He, at least, looked steady as a rock, in comparison to the oscillating Freeler. I spotted the moment he recognised us, his demeanour relaxing a little, then speaking to his Chieftain.

Sania, Olata and I slowed our advance to allow those on foot to catch with us. The Nystiobek arrived, coming in last but pushing their way to the front of our lines, as they liked to do. We moved closer, at a slow and steady pace.

Glaunk was still trying to explain to Freeler who we were, but the words weren’t getting through. His continued ranting had triggered the other goblins to use slings to hurl rocks up at us.

“Woah! Simmer down,” I shouted. “We’re friends! It’s not even been a couple of weeks since we left Rattayak.” The combination of my words, hopefully some recognition, along with Glaunk’s insistence, finally had the desired result and we were permitted to land among them.

The first thing to strike me as we touched down was the familiar smell. I suddenly wished that we weren’t protected from the wind. Freeler was glaring at me as I approached. “Why you here, demony man?”

“A little birdy told me that your village was steamrolled by Justice’s troop. I know you didn’t need refuge before, but thought you might have changed your mind.”

“We have new home,” he said, gesturing around at the rough, little clearing.

Glaunk looked up at his Chieftain and rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Despite the obvious difference in Intelligence at play here, there was also a clear hierarchy that Glaunk refused to step outside of.

“Okay. If you don’t need refuge, will you help me, please.”

Freeler laughed, releasing a belch and fart at the same time, precipitating his already bulging eyes to almost pop out of his head. Once he regained his composure, he spoke slowly. “I knew you needed our help. Freeler’s goblins always like to help. You can stay here. Refuge. This is Rattayak. You welcome.”

I looked around in disbelief at anyone who would make eye contact. They all looked just as bemused. Turning back to Freeler, I too, slowed down my speech. “We’re going to fight Justice. We need to gather more people. Will you join us?”

For a moment he looked as though he was considering it, nodding along as I spoke and affecting a serious expression, only then to shake his head as I finished. “Too many out there. If they come to Rattayak, we smash them.”

I fish-mouthed exasperated, as Sania took over.

“Which Rattayak is that? Because you said the same thing in the last Rattayak. Yet here you are, in some frozen mountains.”

Freeler didn’t look impressed. But it was Glaunk, clearly growing as frustrated as I was, who spoke next. “It’s a good opportunity. This is no home, Freeler. There’s hardly any food and no opportunity to trade.”

Freeler waved off his words and took another swig.

“Where the hell did you get booze from out here, anyway?” I asked genuinely curious.

“It’s reindeer piss,” Glaunk said. “Gets you high.”

“Seems like a terrible way forward in your current position,” I said, somewhat hypocritically.

Glaunk nodded at my assertion, but Freeler took a wobbler. “You not talking to Glaunk! I am Chief. I make plans”

“What’s your plan, then?” I enquired, growing ever more frustrated with Freeler. He was off his face and making bad decisions and putting all his people at risk of being killed. Admittedly, I wanted to lead them into a massive battle, but I hoped at least some of us would survive.

“Wait for the others bring in whatever food they can scrape together, then sleep.” Glaunk answered for him, neutrally.

Looking back to my friends, I focused on Danivra to whom I whispered. “Your charisma is way higher than mine, right? Do you think you can work it on this idiot?”

She gave me a wide smile. “Of course, Lord Clive.” And stepped past me to face the shaggy Bugbear.

“Chief Freeler,” she began, loudly. “Words of your exploits have reached all the way to our once great capital of Helvien. Never had we heard of goblin kind with such battle prowess.

“When we heard of a large group of innocent people, in need of rescue, Lord Clive sought my guidance on who would be strong enough to help us on this quest. I knew immediately! The great and mighty goblin chief, Freeler.” She paused for a moment, then offered a loud conspiratorial whisper to him that everyone could hear. “I don’t know if he believes me about how capable you are at breaking your enemies. I hoped you might give him a demonstration on a Paladin of Justice, so it doesn’t look as though I exaggerated your abilities.”

Feeler’s chest puffed up as she spoke and at the end, his eyes fell on me. Raising his club to point at my face. “You doubt Chief Freeler’s battle ability?”

I shrugged noncommittally, hoping Danivra hadn’t just made a huge mistake and encouraged him to prove his prowess on me.

“I just find it hard to believe that anyone who’s as proficient at smiting their enemies as you’re supposed to be, wouldn’t jump at the chance to help us smash those filthy Paladins of Justice, into dust. Show me five dead Paladins, and then I’ll believe you.”

“Five?” he answered, confused.

“Sure. Anyone can kill one paladin. I do that all the time. What does that prove?”

He smashed his club with far more force than I would have imagined possible, creating a massive crater in the ground. “I will show you what the Chief of Rattayak can do. And you will apologize to me for your doubt. Deal?”

I couldn’t fight the smirk on my face. “Deal, Freeler.”

I saw Glaunk grinning. He bobbed his head in thanks at Danivra and me.

“Where we go, then?” he demanded.

“Back out of these mountains, for starters,” I replied. “Then south.”

“Good. This not really Rattayak. Was only joking. The cold is too cold, here.”

Despite the growing concerns I had over Freeler’s ability to form coherent thoughts, it felt good to have strengthened our presence this far north. With a few barks, snarls and kicks, the surrounding goblins darted around the area, grabbing their belongings. These were essentially badly made swords and spears and little else, the quality of which concerned me. We would have to address that at some point, if we could.

For now, getting out of the mountains remained top on my list of priorities. As Sania, Olata and I took to the skies once more, it didn’t take long to notice how much slower we were now travelling. The goblin’s levels were as low as twenty, which was respectable enough, but far from ideal for speed required. Much like the Wultr and Krysan, they ran in a disorganized pattern. Only the elves and the Nystiobek kept to anything like a formation that I would expect to see from soldiers. It didn’t matter today, only, it was something to discuss with the others. Danivra in particular, as she at least had military experience.

That night, we camp at the base of the mountain range. It was worth stopping here to make use of the protection it offered from the elements. Once we had chosen our spot, a rough patch of ground that ran alongside a piddling little stream, the Wultr went out to hunt while the rest of us gathered what we could to create fires for the evening meal.

“Don’t you have cooking skills that you should be using?” Sania asked, nudging me with her shoulder.

I slapped my forehead despairingly. “Thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot.”

“That’s understandable, all things considered. But we’ll need to get back on track. There’s always going to be something going on. We need to be more focused. I only just remembered.”

“Damn, right,” I replied. Looking at the fire we were sat around. It was a poor excuse for a cooking fire, made of sticks, grass and brush. But I’d make it work, as the utilization of both Fit for a King and Fit for a God was long overdue. The Wultr brought back a large selection of rabbits, and a few foxes which I wasn’t overly keen on eating. I checked them over for quality, and to my annoyance, not one of them were of excellent condition, which meant I couldn’t use the Fit for a God skill.

“What’s he doing?” I heard Olata ask.

“Cooking skill,” Sania said and went on to explain what I could do.

“Not that it matters.” I sulked. “I need an item to be of a minimum quality of excellence for my Fit for a God Skill and that isn’t going to happen. There might be something around but it’s too dark to find alternatives.”

“Lord Clive!” Olata replied with a wide smile, drawing my attention as she threw something.

I caught the item in my hands and grinned when I saw the orange. Bringing up its stats, I was blown away. “It’s Perfect, Olata!”

Ultra-Rare Citrusinenis (1 of 4 in existence)

Quality: Perfect.

Weight: 7 oz

Internal Temperature: 18°C

Potential Use. (Level 30)

(Skills only available when cooking)

Fit for an Enemy + Ultra Rare Bonus

-10 points for 24 hours to any of the following statistics. Skill can be used once every 5 days. Can be used entirely on one stat or spread across multiple stats.

Fit for a King. + Ultra Rare Bonus

+ 10 points for 24 hours to any of the following statistics. Skill can be used once every 5 days. Can be used entirely on one stat or spread across multiple stats.

Fit for a God. + Ultra Rare Bonus

+5 permanent points into any of the following statistics. Can be used once every 14 days.

Strength

Dexterity

Agility

Speed

Stamina

Constitution

Intelligence

Charisma

Perception

“Because it’s so rare, there is an additional bonus!” I went on, excitedly.

“What’s the bonus?” Sania asked, eagerly.

“+5!” I cheered. “Okay, cooking time. I’m gonna choose Perception because mine's dog shit compared to my other skills.” I watched Danivra, Sania, Olata and Grigor as I spoke, to gauge their response and they seemed happy with my chosen option.

Taking a skinned rabbit from Sania, I removed the loins and handed back to her the remainder, before concentrating on the skill options.

Ultra-Rare Citrusinenis: Fit for a God—Perception Selected.

Prepare ingredient within one hour. Failure to do so will still count as one use.

Content with my choice, I threaded the orange onto a stick and added one of the rabbit loins and held the ugliest looking kebab over the struggling fire for ten minutes. “Barbecued Orange and Rabbit Kebab of Perception!” I declared, finally pulling it free. I checked its information over to make sure I hadn’t just wasted points again.

Barbecued Orange and Rabbit Kebab of Perception:

+ Five to Perception (Permanent)

Wasting no time, I took a bite out of the rabbit first, so I could get in at the orange, but the bite of rabbit counted, and I received the points as it was part of the meal.

Congratulations. You have increased Perception by +5 permanently.

Satisfied, I handed the kebab to Sania to eat as I busied myself trying to cook more of the rabbits on our sputtering fire. The result certainly wasn’t a lesson in fine dining, by any stretch, but with my cooking skills I managed to make sure that what I did cook was at least fit for consumption.