The human town looms overhead as we crest the small hills that make up the valley beneath Mount Gabo. Looking at it from a distance, a town completely made of stone, from its houses and warehouses to its very streets. It looks like someone stole a mountain and flattened it for human convenience.

It makes me shudder in excitement because these humans are RICH!

I look at Dagger and Spoon, who are in just as much awe.

The only thing separating us from forever glory, for us and Goblin-kind, is a wall.

It’s many feet wide, and it runs the length of the entire city, only breaking at the water’s edge before continuing on the other side of the river. Towers big and imposing guard the waterway and the only entrance, where roads wind and fork to converge on one central road. Which is busy.

Damn.

Spoon speaks first, her voice hushed as if the city itself could overhear her. “How we getting in Rock?”

I look to Dagger, who only nods as if to say, “Yeah cousin, what she said.”

Fuck. I sit down and scratch the top of my head, shifting the head wrap as I work out my frustrations. Normal human villages are easy. One gate, plenty of grass, maybe some darkness, and any goblin can sneak in. But we got caught pretty easily, and we weren’t even raiding!

I look down at the city, shielding my eyes from the afternoon sun to see better—

And nearly cry.

The humans are… the humans are… danger. Many, many dangers. Too many dangers! I’ve never seen so many humans wearing full armor, with heavy swords and axes, just sitting around talking. Talking. Not killing each other in battle, not gasping for air, just looking at other humans, pointing and no doubt asking questions. They are inspecting each other, like Squad Leaders inspecting their fellow raiders for unreported loot. And the penalty for hiding something from the group has to be severe. So what would happen if they discovered a goblin?

I shudder in terror and inner turmoil. But I’m not going to let fear rule me. And this isn’t a raid! I don’t need to fight the humans. Just find a way in… and a way out.

“We go at night.”

*****************

We huddle beneath a nearby tree, doing our best to hide with branches that Dagger cut down and the miniature ditch Spoon and I dug. It is good that the tree still has leaves and that they are browning. Our camouflage is perfect, as nothing bothers us as we wait for the sun to go down.

When it does, we emerge into a new world, less busy and slightly noisier as various night creatures hooted and growled in the distance. The world is alive with rustling and chirping as things hide or announce themselves in the undergrowth.

Dagger stretches, and Spoon yawns. I kiss a rock I painted green for luck. And without saying another word, we run straight to the giant wall.

I have a plan.

It’s a good plan. A great plan. We’re going to climb the wall. Because I’m a freaking genius!

It is a relatively short sprint to the wall in the cover of darkness. While the front gate is well-lit and has armed humans waiting to butcher and maim anyone that comes too close, the side of the wall is darker and, if we’re lucky, well outside the human’s eyesight. One thing Yeezsus gave us is night vision. That and goblin ingenuity!

We make it to the unlit side of the wall without incident, which is the first sign that things are going to go great and stare up at the sheer length of the wall.

Well, it didn’t look this tall from the hill. Or this smooth. I knock on it, and yup, it’s solid. I shrug and try to “climb,” but I can’t reach anything to grip on. I jump and try to find purchase only to slide, rather comically, down the wall.

Well, this is going to suck.

I look at Spoon, and she shrugs.

“Aren’t you a shaman?” I hiss.

“So?” Spoon hisses back.

“Well, you have magic, don’t you! Can’t you, like, float?”

Spoon rolls her eyes. “Have you ever seen a Shaman fly? We cast death spells, death magic, Boom Boom!”

I can only shake my head… so I look at Dagger. Who is looking at me. With a smile.

Dagger points at me, then the wall, then makes a hopping motion with his other hand. I look at the wall, then back at Dagger, then back at the wall, and grin ear to ear!

“The Tall Fence Maneuver!” I shout before realizing humans are only a few feet away! Excitement got the better of safety! But still! This plan is great, it’s foolproof, it’s—

“What’s the tall fence maneuver?”

I look at Dagger, and he bows dramatically as if ushering me to explain. So I do.

“The Tall Fence Maneuver is when you climb a really tall fence by putting one Goblin on the shoulders of another Goblin.”

“—And one Goblin on the shoulders of that Goblin,” Dagger adds.

“And one Goblin on the shoulders of that other Goblin!” We say together!

“But,” Dagger interjects, “that doesn’t work on barbed fences, unfortunately… someone always loses their balance…” This fact comes from painful personal experience.

Spoon looks at us, then at the wall, and then back at us. “That sounds stupid!”

Dagger hits his own heart and gasps dramatically as he falls backward, and I simply mouth the words, “How dare you!” as I catch Dagger before he hits his head.

Spoon looks on with an incredulous look of “whatever” plastered on her face. And I can’t let that stand. It’s the tall fence maneuver! How dare she! I look to Dagger for support, and he’s still heartbroken…

So fuck it. “All right, Spoon, what would you do?”

For a moment, there is silence. I got her. But then, she rubs her chin the way an elder does before dispensing wisdom. I can see her brain smoking with calculations, contingencies, hidden plots, and variables only she could consider! She spends two minutes rolling over the most important decision in goblin history before her eyes brighten up with an idea.

“We blow it up.”

Dagger springs back to life in my arms, marches straight to Spoon, and announces with utter confidence.

“Two to one, Spoon’s bottom.”

“Two to one,” I repeat.

“Two to one!” Dagger grins.

Spoon looks between the two of us, sees our massive grins, and realizes that she’s been outvoted.

She tries to protest. She tries to run. But it’s two to one, and she doesn’t make it far.