The goblins followed Morell deeper into the woods. They could periodically see the cliff and the fortress on top, but only for a moment or two before it was swallowed up by the forest. Morell assured them that no one in the fortress was likely to spot five green goblins and a cat within the trees and underbrush.

The mushroom hunter seemed to know every plant and damp spot and moved quickly in a definite direction. Dizzy was about to call for a break when Morell suddenly stopped. He sniffed the air and grinned.

“We’re here,” he said. Dizzy looked around, not seeing anything in particular. They had followed the cliff face as they left the fortress behind themselves. Now it rose above them, and trees grew thickly all around. There was no sign of goblin huts or the inevitable trash piles. Gwen mewled plaintively.

“What do you mean, ‘we’re here’ What’s here?”

“The village. Can’t you smell the cooking fires?”

All the goblins sniffed the air. At first, Dizzy couldn’t detect anything, but after a bit, the faint smell of smoke was there. He looked at Morell. “But where…”

Morell walked to a large rock set against the cliff and pressed at the side. Silently the rock slid into the wall, revealing a tunnel beyond.

“Dwarves built this. They are long gone, and nobody can hide their homes like a dwarf.” Morell gestured for the goblins to enter the hidden cave.

Inside, scattered candles burned. Swamp and forest goblins needed very little light, but they did need some. The cave led deeper under the cliff, the passageway twisting and turning. After about a hundred yards, the tunnel opened up into a large cavern. Dizzy’s eyes widened as he saw the goblin town down below.

Unlike the swamp village, the forest goblins had taken over an abandoned dwarf village. Dressed stones formed strong, sturdy walls of dozens of buildings. The intricate carvings of the dwarves had been painted over with bright goblin murals and graffiti. The dwarven warrior statue at the center of town had been painted green, with goblin fangs disguising the dwarf beard.

Goblins were everywhere, buying and selling goods, squabbling over possessions, and eating and drinking. An underground river flowed through the cave, emerging from an opening on one side and disappearing through a second cave tunnel on the other. As Dizzy watched, a goblin threw the bones he had been eating into the stream and watched it float away.

“Where does that go?” asked Kitty. Swamp goblins normally burned any trash they had. The swamp normally flowed too slowly for trash removal, but ashes dissolved easily enough.

“About a mile down is a waterfall. Not sure what is at the bottom, none have ever gone and come back,” answered Morell.

Dizzy looked around, trying to see where this tribe’s Chief lived. Morell noticed and pointed. At the far side of the cavern, sat the largest dwarven building in the underground town. It was built into the side of the wall, looking like a small castle. A drawbridge was down, and two goblin guards were standing outside.

“The Chief, he’ll want to hear your story. Let’s go see him now,” said Morell. The mushroom seller turned to Picker.

“Tell your mother I’m home and give her this,” he said as he tossed Picker the coins they had stolen. “Get some food ready too. I’m hungry, and will be hungrier once we’re done with the Chief.” Picker ran off to do as he had been told. Morell pointed the way.

“Now Chief, he’s probably like your Chief. Fought his way to the top, now he sits on his ass and has goblins wait on him.” Dizzy and Kitty both nodded in agreement. Dizzy wondered what had happened to the Chief now that he was a prisoner of Stormhoof.

“We got a lot of young bucks who would love a chance to take on someone like Stormhoof, and we got a lot of old dogs who are happy staying safe under the porch right here,” explained Morell. “Chief, he’s an old dog. He won’t want to do anything. And I don’t blame him. We’re right under Stormhoof’s nose, if we do anything he may come looking for us in force.”

“Stormhoof could come anyways. He’s looking for troops. He wants to carve out his kingdom,” argued Dizzy.

“Save it for the Chief. I’m just telling you what his argument is going to be,” said Morell. “But with that minotaur sitting right on top of us, he’s eventually going to find out we’re here. We have to hunt, gather mushrooms, and fish, and go on raids just like you swamp goblins. We’re forest goblins, not deep goblins. We need food that does not cave insects and fish. Deer, boar, squirrel. Stuff like that. Mushrooms.” Morell grinned at that last.

“You said mushrooms twice,” said Kitty.

“I know. I love me some mushrooms!” said Morell with a laugh. The goblins stopped as they reached the two guards.

“Three to see the Chief,” said Morell. The guards looked at Dizzy’s weapons pointedly, then one jerked his thumb towards a box behind them.

“Deposit your weapons here. No one sees the Chief with a weapon larger than a personal knife. The cat stays out too,” growled the larger goblin. Dizzy shrugged, Chief Ravenous had the same rules back in the swamp. He dropped his backpack, then unslung the two swords. Kitty leaned her bow against the box, then set her quiver inside. YDB placed his bomb bag in the box. They turned slowly to show they didn’t have anything else on them. The guards nodded, then the larger one spoke to Morell.

“See that they mind their manners.” Morell nodded and led the way to the Chief.

“Stay here Gwen,” said Kitty. The cat just stared, then began grooming his fur.

Unlike the swamp palace, the castle used by Morell’s Chief was designed as a place of defense by the dwarves who had built the place. More goblin graffiti and murals covered the walls inside the gateway, but Dizzy couldn’t miss the scorch marks and damage the place had taken in the past. The dwarves hadn’t simply abandoned the town, they had been driven out, or slaughtered by someone or something. Dizzy shivered thinking how tough just one dwarf was. A whole town defeated? Whatever had done that would make short work of the goblins now living in the place.

The castle walls opened up to a drill ground. Young goblins were training with swords and bucklers under the supervision of a large and muscular goblin. Dizzy was struck immediately by the resemblance of this one to Slugger. He even shouted orders and corrections like Slugger. Spotting Morell and Dizzy, he called the goblins to a break.

“Ho, Sergeant!” called out Morell. “A word?”

The sergeant jogged over. Morell introduced Dizzy and company. The big warrior goblin nodded to each in turn.

“We might have a problem, Sergeant. These three know of a nearby threat, and we are about to speak with Chief. Your experience would be appreciated.”

The sergeant raised an eyebrow but asked no questions. Turning, he called out to one of his soldiers. The goblin jogged over. “Have the troops work on stab thrusts until the end of the glass, then finish with pushups. Do twenty in a row, five times. After that, let them go for the day.” Dizzy saw an hourglass standing on a platform near Sergeant. The cave-dwelling goblins would need a way to mark the passage of time without the sun. He wondered briefly where they had acquired such an item.

Once his troops knew what the rest of their training would consist of, the Sergeant gestured towards the inner set of doors. “Let’s see the Chief.”

Inside the inner keep was a long hall leading to a throne room. A goblin lolled on the throne while three others sat on the floor rolling dice. Chief looked up at the approaching goblins and moved to sit properly on his throne.

“Good afternoon, Chief,” said Morell. “I have three guests, and information that might not be so good.”

Chief stood to receive the news.

“Sir, a minotaur has moved into the Domed Fortress above the valley. These goblins,” he paused to gesture at Dizzy and his friends, “tell me his name is Stormhoof, and that he has taken their tribe as conscripts. Stormhoof will be building up an army to bring war to the lands between here and the swamps. He intends to carve out a kingdom for himself.”

Dizzy felt that Morell had covered the main concerns, and waited for the Chief to ask questions.

“This is not a concern for us. He will never find us in our caves,” declared the Chief.

“We still need to hunt sire,” said Morell. “If he has patrols out, he may find where we live and attack in force. These goblins here say this Stormhoof has a shipload of orc warriors, and we don’t know if he has more somewhere else. We also spotted an elf among the orcs. Could be a sorcerer.”

“Hah! The humans patrol this area all the time, they have never found our cave. This Stormhoof won’t have any better luck. Tell the hunters and gatherers to be careful, and we’ll be fine.” The Chief lolled back onto his throne. “You are all dismissed. Don’t waste my time on 'ifs' and 'maybes.'”

Morell bowed and led the goblins back out of the presence of the Chief. “I was afraid of that,” said Sergeant as they walked. “He’s safe and comfortable on that throne of his. But it’s my fellow goblins out in the forest hunting for food.”

Sergeant looked to the left and right as they entered the training yard again. The goblins had just finished their last set of pushups and were dusting themselves off.

“Send them home!” Sergeant called out. “I’ll need a volunteer in a bit. We’ll be going outside the caves for a few hours tonight. Any who will join me, be back in four turns of the glass.”

Goblins scattered to get something to eat. One paused to flip over the glass, then took off after his friends. Sergeant grinned for a moment, then whispered to Morell. “That’s Sneak. He’s one of my best scouts, and he wants to make his mark. He’ll be back. Let’s get something to eat before sunset. Orcs can see in the dark, but not as well as us goblins. We should spot them well before they see us.”

The five goblins gathered up their weapons and left the keep, headed towards Morell’s house. Gwen trailed behind. Inside, one of Morell’s wives was busy in the kitchen while the other one tended to three goblin whelps. Kitty squealed in delight when she saw the little goblins rolling and tumbling with each other on the floor. She knelt as one of the females ran to hide from her brother.

Morell paused to kiss the cooking goblin before sniffing at what she had been making. He scooped up the other female goblin whelp and hugged her before hugging the other adult goblin.

“These are my wives, Honey and Jasmine. And my whelps. We’re calling them Boy, Girl, and Hider for now. Naming Day is a long way off for these three,” Morell said and then laughed. He put down Girl and waited for Hider to come out from behind Kitty. Boy didn’t wait, he charged at his father and nearly knocked him over. Sergeant laughed as Boy and Morell bumped skulls.

Kitty spoke softly to Hider, and the little goblin girl jumped up into her arms. She reached over to play with the bowstring of Kitty’s bow. As the goblins gathered around, Gwen sauntered in and found a warm spot near the cooking fire.

“Dinner will be ready in a bit,” said Honey. The smells wafting from the kitchen set Dizzy’s mouth to water. A glance at Kitty and YDB showed that he was not the only hungry one.

Honey brought the pot of stew out to the main room, then handed mugs to everyone. She filled three small mugs and handed those to the children, then let the adult goblins serve themselves. The goblin whelps quickly dumped the food into their mouths, swallowed, and began chasing each other again.

Dizzy sipped from the stew, then tipped the cup back far enough to pour some meat and vegetables into his mouth. The stew was not nearly as spicy as he was used to, but it was filling. His stomach stopped rumbling. Sergeant and Kitty slurped up their stew while YDB plucked bits of meat out with his fingers. Morell sat between his two wives and ate. As Dizzy went to take another swallow, Hider slammed into the back of his knees. Dizzy collapsed, his stew flying up and splattering on his chest. Hider grinned, then ran off while Dizzy sputtered. Kitty, YDB, and Sergeant laughed, while Honey grinned as she grabbed a washcloth. Dizzy accepted the cloth with a scowl, then grinned.

“I’m thinking the swamp goblin whelping method is better. Stick all the weened whelps in cages, and toss them food every day,” he said as he held a hand up to Sergeant. It had been good enough for himself and the other swamp goblins, why not for the forest goblins as well?

Sergeant just grinned and pulled Dizzy to his feet. The rest of dinner went more smoothly as Dizzy kept an eye on the mischievous Hider. The goblin whelp didn’t run into Dizzy’s knees a second time. After a bit, the Sergeant spoke.

“We need to get a move on if we’re going to check out Stormhoof’s fortress. Grab your gear, and let’s get going.”

Dizzy picked up his swords from a ledge where Jasmine had put them away to keep them out of the whelps’ reach. He handed Kitty her bow and YDB his bag of bombs. Sergeant slung his huge sword across his back. Minutes later, the four were standing on the road outside of Morell’s home. Dizzy watched the mushroom merchant through the house’s window, playing with his whelps while one of his wives cleaned up after their meal. Dizzy knew that if Stormhoof found these goblins, they too would be forced into slavery. He meant to prevent that from happening if he could. He looked to Sergeant and nodded.

The goblins walked through the cave, heading for a different tunnel than the one they had used to enter from the forest. When Dizzy asked, Sergeant just answered, “Shortcut.” Moments later, Sneak arrived and fell in beside Sergeant.

The new goblin lived up to his name, moving silently. Sergeant nodded at the newcomer. Gwen took an immediate liking to him and padded alongside.

Soon after leaving the main chamber, the tunnel narrowed. Oil lamps burned in the darkness, providing a small bit of light. Now and then, Sergeant warned of a pit or other hazard. After a while, Dizzy noticed that the floor felt spongy rather than stony. A strange smell filled his nostrils. Above the stone, the ceiling seemed to move.

“What’s this cave?” he asked. YDB started hooting in excitement.

“It’s a bat cave. The floor is covered in bat guano. Why is your friend making that sound?” asked Sergeant.

“Booms!” said YDB. Kitty nodded.

“Bat crap is one of the things YDB uses in his bomb-making. Bats are kind of rare in the swamps since caves don’t exist. They find little nooks in trees and other hiding spots, so YDB only finds the occasional bits.”

“He can help himself to all he wants. None of our tribe has ever heard of such a thing,” said Sergeant. He looked on curiously as YDB scooped up the guano and place it in clay pots he had in his rucksack.

YDB looked up and grinned. “Boom!”

“If you say so,” said Sergeant. “When you’re done, let’s get a move on. And watch for cave centipedes. They have a nasty bite.”

It didn’t take long for YDB to fill all the pots he had with the pungent bat droppings. Once they were tucked away in his truck, he stood and joined Dizzy.

“Let’s get going,” Dizzy suggested. Sergeant looked around to make sure of his bearings and strode forward.

The bat cave was not nearly as large as the dwarf cave, and Dizzy felt a faint breeze a moment before the ceiling seemed to fall. One moment the bats above them seemed content to just hang there upside down, the next was a whirlwind of wings and tiny bodies. The bats whirled and spun about the goblins, then they streamed towards an opening high up on the cave wall. After several long minutes, the bats had fled into the night to hunt.

“Up there is where we need to go,” pointed Sergeant. “The fortress is nearby, and we’ll be on top of the cliff instead of at the base. Shouldn’t be long now.”

As Sergeant turned to lead the way up to the cave exit, a spear tip jabbed into his belly.

“Where do you think you’re going?” squeaked a small voice. The goblins looked down at the spearman and realized he was not alone. Not by a long shot. Dozens of gremlins, smaller cousins of the goblin race surrounded them, all with spears in their hands. Dizzy slowly raised his hands in surrender.