Dizzy yelped as he woke up. That stupid goblin Dregs was biting at his leg in his sleep again.

“Oi! Knock it off! That’s not a turkey leg, you idiot!”

Dizzy jabbed at the goblin’s head to make it let go. With a groan, the other goblin released his grip. Blood oozed from the teeth marks left behind.

“Ouch, why you kick so hard? I was having a wonderful dream. We had raided a farm, and I was in the chicken coop all by myself!”

“Yeah? Well, we’re not living in your dream world. Time to get up and get some food for real.” Dizzy snapped at the smaller goblin as he kicked his blanket into a pile near the rest of his stuff. Grabbing the bag with his more valuable property, he pushed aside a board that acted as a door.

Outside the hut, he looked around the village bleary-eyed. Other goblins were beginning to wake and shuffle about. It would be a short time before they started squabbling for breakfast.

Dizzy stood three and a half feet tall and had dark green skin. Large, pointed ears stuck straight out from the side of his head that seemed too large for his body, and a mouth full of sharp, yellow teeth. His clothes, if you could call them that, were rough spun trousers and a shoddy woven tunic held closed at his waist with a frayed bit of rope. Dizzy glanced around his surroundings as he adjusted the stolen kitchen knife he used as a sword.

As goblin villages went, this one wasn’t too bad. There was plentiful material to cobble together shelter, and to even burn as firewood on the rare cold nights in the swamp. Humans had once had a town here. The humans’ huts had been mud and wattle, with thatch roofs. Most had collapsed, but the goblins were able to make repairs. Out of the original twenty or so buildings, twelve had mostly survived. One building stood apart, having been built of stone blocks rather than mud, thin branches, and long grass.

Butted up against a small hill was a stone temple, built ages past. It was a low, flat-topped pyramid with a shrine temple. Inside was a bronze water buffalo sporting a ring through its nose. The goblin chief used the temple as his “palace,” even though the building was mostly open and the roof had collapsed in one section. The chief and his concubines slept on the raised altar nearest the hill. The bronze bull that the humans had worshiped when this had been theirs had been moved to the center of the floor. Most of the bull was green from weather and corrosion. The only clean bit was the statue’s testicles, which were shiny from being rubbed by the goblins for luck and strength.

Nestled deep in a swamp, the goblins were able to raid the scattered small farms and nearby towns, then retreat into the marshlands where the humans feared to tread.

The Chief claimed it was fear of the goblins and his own personal combat skills, but Dizzy knew it was the alligators and feral boars that the humans feared more than he and his kin.

As he stretched and scratched himself, he watched the others emerge from their huts and join the milling crowd facing the temple, waiting for the Chief to send out the food the tribe had gathered the previous day. Goblins had a voracious appetite, and the Chief knew that if he didn’t ration the food, he wouldn’t get the best bits. Oh, and that several goblins would go hungry as the rest stole from the weaker ones. Chief knew the most important part was making sure he himself was well fed.

“Hey! Dizzy! Good morning!” called a young goblin. Dizzy looked over and saw Kitty crawling out of her hut, brushing bits of debris off of her clothes. She wore a shapeless shift. It had started as a nightshirt for a farm girl, but Kitty had stolen it off of the drying line. There were embroidered flowers across the chest that she liked.

Near the central fire pit, another goblin named YDB pushed himself up to his feet and brushed his thin hair back. The male looked at Dizzy and Kitty, then smiled.

“Morning,” said YDB.

“Good morning YDB,” she said. Dizzy smiled his usual goblin smile, showing many sharp teeth. YDB said nothing more. ‘You Dumb Bastard’ was what he had been called by the Chief when he had been but a whelp. The rest of the goblin tribe had shortened it YDB. YDB didn't speak for the first four rainy seasons, then when he finally did, he only spoke in one-word sentences. This often made it hard to figure out what he meant.

Kitty picked a bit of fish from her back teeth, looked at it, and decided that sitting in her mouth overnight hadn’t ruined the flavor any. With a flick of her tongue, she swallowed the morsel. She joined the other goblins slowly making their way to the palace.

As the goblins assembled in front of the shrine, a groaning sound could be heard from within. After a moment, the Chief stepped out of the shadows. He was closely followed by his attendant. The Chief was the fattest of the goblins, but there was a solid layer of muscle underneath. Many a young and ambitious goblin had learned the hard way that fat didn't mean weak, although it had been a while since the Chief had last been challenged for his throne. The two goblins stopped, and the Chief raised his hand.

“Greetings, my loyal goblins! I trust you all slept well?” boomed the Chief. Without waiting for an answer, the Chief continued. “Good! We will all need our strength in the days to come! I, Chief Ravenous, have decided that the human town of Driftwood Landing has failed to provide sufficient tribute, and we shall raid the town and take what is ours!”

The goblins cheered at the idea of a raid. Any chance to cause chaos and mischief was a good day to be a goblin. The little village had not done a raid in months.

“But first! We need to gather up supplies! We need weapons, torches, and armor! Go out and find what you need, come back by the end of the day. Don’t get caught, we don’t want the stupid humans to think something is up!”

“What about breakfast?” asked Kitty, feeling that a tiny bit of fish from her back teeth wasn’t exactly a well-rounded start to her day.

“No time for breakfast! Go, my warriors! Find metal, find wood, find weapons! When we attack, we will destroy everything! And we’ll steal enough food to feed us all for a year!”

The goblins cheered their wise and all-knowing Chief. Within a few days, they would have much better supplies. Kitty looked over at Dizzy and YDB, who had wound up near each other as the Chief spoke. Those two would get into trouble if she left them alone.

“Hey, you two! Come with me. I have a plan.” Kitty lied, but goblins obeyed anyone who seemed to be in charge at the moment.

“What’s the plan?” asked Dizzy as the other goblins of the tribe ran to and fro.

“We’re going to the Grindle Farm. I was watching it the other day, Missus Grindle has been putting in a new kitchen. There should be a lot of good stuff in their junk pile.”

“Oh, yeah!” agreed Dizzy. “If they replaced their stove, we can get a lot of metal for armor!”

Dizzy pounded his thin chest. “I will be a great warrior, with armor and a sword!” He drew his old, rusty kitchen knife, and waved it around.

“Put that away before you poke your eye out,” said Kitty. Turning to YDB, who had been standing quietly, as usual. Kitty added, “Maybe we will find stuff for you to make your bombs or fireworks with?”

YDB nodded and said, “Bombs!” He hopped up and down a few times, then ran to the hut he sometimes shared with Dizzy and Dregs to get his spear. Kitty slung a small bow over her back and hefted a crowbar she had stolen from a merchant’s wagon. Dizzy checked his kitchen knife sword, realized it was all he had, and that it had to be enough. The trio was as prepared as any goblin could expect to be. Kitty pointed at a gap between the trees to the west, and the trio set out. Behind them, the rest of the goblins broke into groups of three and four to conduct their own raids against the outlying farms and farmers.

Soon, the three goblins were heading through the slow-moving swamp. Kitty rubbed her belly. She was hungry since the Chief had sent everyone out before breakfast could be brought out. ‘The fat jerk just wanted more for himself,’ she thought.

The Chief was famous for being able to put away as much food as half the village by himself. Dizzy, Kitty, and YDB would have to find and eat something within the swamp. Mushrooms, slow swimming fish, frogs, or even some fat worms. Goblins ate anything that had protein and were never picky.

Dizzy soon took the lead through the swamp. He had a knack for finding a path through the water and mud that kept them mostly dry. Only once were they forced to swim a short way, but no alligators or snakes were around to bother them. Within a few hours, they were hiding at the edge of the woods, looking out at the Grindle Farm.

The farm was typical for the area, a small house with only one stout door, a split log fence, a barn of sorts, pigsty, and chicken coops set against the barn. Off to the south was the main field of the farm, with corn growing in neat rows. Near the house was the vegetable garden, growing all the small crops the family in the house needed. As the goblins watched, the farm’s owner appeared from behind the barn with a young girl, of about ten, in tow.

Dizzy and Kitty tried to guess the route the two would take, looking for places they could steal items without being seen.

The girl fed the chickens while her father slopped the pigs.

“Daddy! Four eggs!” she called out as she gathered up the chickens’ offerings.

“Good, Pumpkin! Take them to your mother, then come back here. Bring the water pitcher with you.”

The girl skipped to the house with the eggs tucked into her apron. After a few minutes, she reappeared with a water pitcher and a tin cup. Her father accepted it, and took a big gulp of water, then handed it to his daughter to return to the house after she had a chance to refill it from the well.

Dizzy and Kitty noticed the father carrying some broken equipment to a junk pile near the edge of the farm. Once he had tossed the tools and debris into the rubbish pit, he returned to the covered well where his daughter waited. Drawing water from the well with the wooden bucket, he refilled thepitcher. He sent his daughter back to the house with a playful swat to her bottom. Cheerfully smiling, he followed her to the house.

“Looks like that’s the place,” said Kitty, nodding at the debris pile. “I heard metal clinking. Let’s see what we can find!”

Slipping along the fence line, Dizzy, Kitty, and YDB crept to the farm’s scrap heap. The three goblins’ greedy eyes scanned for anything of value.

The farmer had tossed out a broken hoe, the handle split and the cheap metal blade not worth salvaging to him. To the goblins, the metal was well worth taking. Food scraps were scattered about, as well as a pot lid with a broken handle, a rusty frying pan, and a small mattress that had gone flat. Some moldy straw poked out of the sack, but it was mostly empty. Dizzy glanced at the house and saw some toys a human boy would play with littering the porch. The mattress must have been thrown out once the child was too big for a crib.

Climbing the fence, Dizzy kept an eye on the house in case the farmer came out. Humans threw away such good stuff but became angry whenever a goblin took it. Probably because goblins were experts in turning junk into improvised weapons. Kitty swarmed over the fence, while YDB crawled under. Soon the three goblins were wolfing down the fresher food scraps while looking over the junk in the pit.

“This will make a good chopper,” said Dizzy as he looked at the hoe blade. He stomped on the blade to twist it into line with the broken handle, turning it from a hoe to a dull battleaxe.

Kitty rolled the mattress into a cylinder and hoisted it onto her shoulder.

“Now I will have a real bed! Kat thinks she is so cool just because she’s my older sister. She’s going to have to sleep on the dirty rags. I’m not sharing.”

While the other two goblins gloated over their finds, YDB found a bag of fertilizer tossed out by the farmer. Inside was a small amount of grayish-white powder. The goblin grinned and held it up.

“Boom!” he said, still smiling at his friends. He pulled on the bag’s drawstrings to close it, then looked towards the farm, in case the farmer had finished lunch early. His eyes widened. “Cat!”

As Dizzy whirled towards the farm, a heavy paw struck him across the face, narrowly missing his left eye.

“Aaah!” screamed the goblin as he flew across the pit and landed on the far side.

A huge cat stood at the edge of the junk pit, fur standing on end. This was a farm cat, used to fighting rats and other pests, not some lady’s dainty house pet. His muscles rippled under his fur, and he hissed fiercely at the goblins. It had approached in complete silence.

“My eye! That stupid cat almost took out my eye! Get it!” yelled Dizzy.

Kitty yanked her crowbar from her back and waved it threateningly at the cat.

“Shoo! Go back to the barn, you mangy cat! We’re not doing anything wrong!” she hissed at the cat. The cat growled low in his chest at the female goblin. Kitty stood her ground, blocking the cat from making a second attack on her friend.

“Gwen! Where are you?” came a high voice from near the farmhouse.

“Gwen, you silly kitty! Come back here!”

Dizzy looked across the farm and saw the little girl, hands on her hips, calling for her cat. Gwen growled again at the goblins. Seeing an opportunity to escape without further injury, Kitty grabbed Dizzy and pulled him back to the tree line.

“YDB! Move your ass!” she commanded with a hiss. The smaller goblin scrambled out of the pit with the bag of fertilizer.

“Gwen! I have a snack for you!” called the girl again, holding up a slice of bacon.

With a final glare at the goblins’ retreat, Gwen loped across the yard to the girl and meowed for the treat. The girl tore the bit of bacon in half, feeding the cat first one piece, then the other.

“Is there a raccoon by the dump?” asked the girl, mistaking the cat’s aggressive behavior.

“Meow,” was Gwen’s reply. The cat looked back and growled again.

The girl watched the trees and dump for a bit, then looked down at the cat.

“Well, it looks like the ‘coon went back to his family. I’ll let daddy know, in case he wants to set a trap for him,” said the girl. She skipped back to the house, calling for her father to tell him about their visitor.

“We better get out of here,” said Kitty as she used a bit of cloth from the stolen mattress to clean Dizzy’s wound. A moment later, YDB rejoined his friends, and the trio moved deeper into the swamp. They headed towards the relative safety of the goblin village.