Dizzy rolled up his bedroll and nudged Kitty and YDB with his foot. Both blinked the sleep out of their eyes. YDB had finished his helmet and placed it on his head. His eyes blinked where the bugbear’s had once been. Gwen rose and stretched his muscles.

“Looks good, YDB,” said Kitty. “Do you have padding inside?”

YDB nodded, but the helmet slipped and covered more of his face than intended. He readjusted it, buckled the chin strap, and shook his head. This time the skull stayed in place. He removed it and tied it to the top of his pack. A moment later, he slipped his dagger into its sheath and shrugged into his backpack. His bandoleer currently only held two of his bombs.

Dizzy slid both of his swords into their scabbards on his back, then pulled on his pack over them. The back mount worked better at keeping the weapons out of his way than the belt. Kitty slung her pack before settling her bow into place. She counted her arrows and made sure none were likely to slip out. Gwen watched all the activities without comment.

Morell and Picker had daggers at their belts and looked over at Dizzy.

“We’re ready when you are.”

Paddles bustled forward and pressed an egg sandwich into each goblin’s hand.

“Stay safe in your travels,” she said to Morell. “We’ll keep an eye out for any goblins that may have escaped Stormhoof,” she promised Dizzy. He didn’t hold out much hope that any of their tribe had escaped the minotaur and his orcs. Still, someone might have.

The five goblins and one cat left town before the majority of the townsfolk had awoken. The guards thoroughly checked their bags and baskets for any stolen goods, but Morell just grinned up at the burly human. Once cleared, they headed up the northern road toward where Stormhoof had his fortress.

“Do they always check like that?” asked Kitty while the five walked along the road.

“Yep, and they never find anything.”

“How not?”

“Easy, we don’t keep anything on us. Look behind us.” On the road was another farmer walking alongside his horse. The wagon appeared to be empty as the farmer eventually came alongside the walking goblins.

“Good morning, Morell,” said the farmer as he put his hand up to stop his horse.

“Brown,” was Morell’s reply. Picker jumped into the back of the wagon and pulled up a loose board, revealing a small box. Lifting it out, he handed it down to Morell. The goblins and farmer gathered around as Morell removed the lid and pulled out a sack of coins. The goblin counted them quickly, then handed several back to the farmer and dumped the rest into his basket. Picker slipped the box back into its hiding place.

“See you next time!” Morell said with a laugh. The farmer grinned and tucked his coins into a pouch on his belt. He mounted the wagon, snapped the reins, and took off up the road. He waved without looking back.

“Wait, how did you know he wouldn’t just keep the coins?” asked Dizzy.

“His farm is near our village. If he skims us, he knows we’ll get it back. He makes money this way, he loses money and food if he tries to steal from us the other way,” explained Morell. “It’s not like he can move his farm.”

The swamp goblins had never considered making deals with the local farmers the way the forest goblins had. Dizzy was intrigued by the idea.

“So, where did you get the coins?”

“We stole them. Thanks for your help, by the way.”

“Wait, we didn’t do anything!” protested Dizzy.

“You distracted the crowd. They saw you and your friends wandering around, so they watched you closely. Picker was able to pinch coins all day long because they were all used to seeing him.”

Dizzy and Kitty laughed. These forest goblins knew some tricks. Maybe not as much fun as a raid, but less chance of getting hurt along the way.

“So, what happens when there are no new goblins in town,” asked Kitty.

“There’s always someone or something new in that town. It’s a trading port, not like some of the little villages down the coast. Orc sailors, lizardmen traders, different kinds of humans, elves, dwarves, and whatnot. If you’re not from there, you get watched. We’ve been trading there long enough they mostly ignore us,” explained Morell.

Dizzy laughed a goblin’s cackle, thinking about being allowed into towns. He would have to talk about it with Chief, once he had freed the tribe from the minotaur.

The group trudged steadily up the road, the terrain slowly shifting as the day went on. Gwen occasionally raced into the underbrush, hunting mice and small birds. Staying near the coast kept them from having to climb up any mountains, and the road was fairly well maintained. Twice the King’s Patrol rode past them, but Morell held up a bit of green cloth. The guards glanced at the goblins for a moment before riding on.

Morell explained to the curious Kitty that the king allowed trade, as long as you had a pass. Even goblins could have the stuff to trade, and as long as you didn’t cause too much trouble, you were allowed to use the King’s road.

The goblins never quite caught up with Farmer Brown and his wagon, but the tracks were visible among others. The mountains loomed up ahead, and Dizzy thought he could hear water rushing. As they rounded a bend in the road, they spotted a bridge going over a river.

“Think this is the river Huss was walking about?” asked Kitty.

“Probably. Morell, is there a big rock further downstream?” asked Dizzy.

“Yeah, it’s a big white one, on the north bank of the river. We have to cross the bridge, then follow the road east along the foothills.”

The road across the river had a narrow spur heading towards the ocean, while the majority of traffic seemed to move inland. There was no traffic on the bridge, but before they could cross, YDB tugged on Dizzy’s arm. "Wait."

"Wait for what?" asked Morell.

“Stormhoof,” said YDB, pointing. From down the spur, orcs marched along, with Stormhoof at the head of the column. Dizzy whirled around, looking for a place to hide. A ditch had been dug alongside the road to keep rainwater from washing the gravel away. Grabbing Kitty and Morell by the arms, Dizzy rushed to get out of sight. Picker and YDB dove into the ditch an instant later. Gwen hadn’t returned from his latest hunt.

On the far side, Stormhoof called the column to a halt. The big minotaur glared at the bridge as if expecting the King’s Patrol to come charging across at any moment. When bloodshed and violence failed to materialize, he ordered the column to continue.

As the goblins watched, they saw that Stormhoof had most of the orcs that had served under Isaar, and a dark-haired elf they had never seen before, marching alongside the bullman. Behind the orcs were about a quarter of the swamp tribe. As Dizzy scanned the faces, he spotted a dirty and battered Slugger being helped along by Smash and Storm. There was no sign of Lazybutt or the Chief. Dizzy wondered if the others had been lost at sea.

“I take it that’s your minotaur,” whispered Morell. Dizzy nodded in affirmation. “Got a plan?”

“Not just yet. We can’t be seen, but they’re leaving a lot of tracks behind. Let’s follow them, see if we can find that fortress of theirs, and maybe a way in,” said Dizzy.

“My tribe is up that way. We’re a bit deeper into the woods, but if this Stormhoof character puts out pressgang troops, he might want to add our tribe to yours.” Morell looked concerned about this possibility.

Dizzy nodded again. Stormhoof wanted an army, and right now Dizzy wasn’t sure what plans he had for the region. He would have to learn more to be able to put some sand in Stormhoof’s gears.

After the column had disappeared, the five goblins moved back onto the road and headed for the bridge. After crossing the bridge, the dusty road revealed mostly goblin tracks shuffling behind the orcs. Now and then, Dizzy could make out the iron-shod hoofprints of the minotaur. They would be easy to follow, at least for now.

The road wound along, climbing up into the foothills. Morell warned them before they crested any hills, or came around any corners in case Stormhoof had a rearguard watching, but none of the orcs broke away to backtrack. They followed all day, and into the night. Gwen caught up with a mouse in his jaws. Seeing the goblins moving with purpose, the cat dropped his meal and stayed close. It appeared Stormhoof wasn’t going to stop to rest until he reached his fortress. Above the road stood the mountains, silhouetted against the night sky.

Finally, Stormhoof called his troops to a halt. The foothills to the mountains had reached a nearly vertical cliff. Dizzy led the other goblins under a bush, trying to observe without themselves being seen. A creaking sound could be heard from above, but darkness prevented any identification.

“Rope,” said YDB. Dizzy peered harder, and for a moment thought he could see a rectangular object suspended in midair. The cloud cover parted momentarily, and Dizzy could see that a platform of some sort was being lowered from above. As it reached the ground, Stormhoof barked out orders. The goblins were quickly herded on by the orcs. One of the orcs let out a shrill whistle once all the goblins were on the platform.

“What if the ropes break?” whispered Kitty.

“Don’t say that. Don’t even think it,” whispered Dizzy in reply. Morell held his finger to his lips.

The rope tightened, and Dizzy could hear the goblins cry out in fright as they were lifted into the air.

“None of you cowards had better try jumping!” roared Stormhoof. “If the fall doesn’t kill you, I will!”

The platform rose higher and higher into the air. Finally, it reached a second platform about a hundred feet in the air, where the goblins were led off by what appeared to be two more orcs. The goblins disappeared into a building at the top. After a few minutes, the platform began the long descent. Stormhoof watched the lift come down impatiently.

“If those goblins didn’t weigh enough to part the rope, we’re safe enough,” he grumbled to the orcs standing about. With a toss of his head, the orcs and the lone elf shuffled onto the lift platform. Stormhoof joined them, and with a second whistle, the platform rose into the air a second time that night.

“Let’s move back into the woods,” suggested Morell. “When the sun comes up, maybe we will be able to see more.”

The goblins crept deeper into the woods, making sure that they camped where the trees would block any view a watch might have of them down below. Once dawn arrived, they cautiously returned to the edge of the woods.

Above them, the cliff formed a large natural spire. The top was roughly even with the mountain behind it, and there appeared to be the remains of a bridge between the two. On top of the spire was a rounded and domed structure, with a large set of doors leading further inside. The platform the goblins and orcs had been taken up on was visible, as was the winch above it. Two orcs stood guard at the upper platform, watching the valley below for any intruders.

“We’re not getting in that way,” grumbled Dizzy. He turned to Morell. “Any ideas?”

“Maybe. Let’s move back into the woods, and go around ways.”

Leaving the fortress was tough for Dizzy, Kitty, and YDB. Their friends and family were up there, prisoners of the minotaur. Morell seemed to be confident that he knew a way up to the fortress. Dizzy would have to trust his new friend.