Spoon grunts in discomfort as I climb over her and make my way to Dagger.

“You’re HEAVY!” she gasps, her small body ill-suited to bear just one Goblin’s weight, let alone two.

But she volunteered for this. Volunteers do not complain about their fate! Look at Dagger, who bravely holds strong despite Spoon wobbling to and fro. Dagger is the model Goblin, and as his Squad Leader, I am proud! Especially so when he doesn’t even cry out when I place my foot on his face and accidentally dig my toe into his nose.

A proud and glorious moment indeed. Dedication to the greater mischief is the goblin way! I press my other foot deeper into Dagger’s shoulder as I reach up the wall for anything that could be used as a hand-hold. While the bottom is smooth, the further up I reach, the more the individual bricks stick out and could provide potential purchase. I only needed to reach one—

“I CAN’T HOLD YOU GUYS MUCH LONGER!” Spoon cries, her voice an urgent whisper as she sways and buckles under our weight.

We tilt away and then back into the wall, rocking back and forth, and back and forth. Dagger tries to keep his balance by digging his toe into Spoon while I desperately try to lean my weight toward the wall, hoping that Dagger can hold on to me!

We swing dangerously away from the wall as Spoon stumbles backward, nearly toppling over in a heap of arms and legs. But then, before we all fall over, Dagger shouts, “I promise you a new METAL SPOON!”

Suddenly, we’re sent crashing into the wall in a big oof!

Rock has taken -1 damage from City Wall.

Spoon has taken -2 damage from City Wall.

Dagger has taken -1 damage from City Wall.

OUCH! But that’s not the worst thing to happen—

“Hey, you hear that?” booms a human voice that’s surprisingly close. It’s followed by the heavy crunch of footsteps, possibly two or three humans coming to investigate!

We’re FUCKED!

New desperation fuels me now. It’s too late to run; they’ll see us in the open field! I grab at anything, trying my best to dig my claws into any crevice, any loose or jutted stone. Spoon and Dagger whisper for me to hurry as the footsteps grow louder and closer. And the voices—

“Look… it’s just dumb kids, Andrew! I was reading the sports section!”

“Look, if they’re kids, we give them a good talking to…. And besides, it’s dangerous out here at night.”

And then I grab onto something. To my left, not even too far. I pull towards it with both hands firmly collapsing around the brick further up than the rest. My heart sours. I push myself up and try to find anything to support me. I do. I look up and see a path of bricks, uneven yet sturdy and available for a goblin to push and pull himself up on.

“Come, Dagger!” I urge as I make my way up and wall. I even find enough purchase to balance myself upside down as I help Dagger up, who in turn is helping Spoon up. We make our way up the wall, Goblins scaling the impossible as the crunch crunch of the army gets closer and closer. Fear jacks our rate, and the only thing I can hear is my own breathing and my parties’ mutual straining. Nervous sweat fills our palms as we increasingly find ourselves slipping on the stones we could use to move further up!

The wall is its own mountain, and I’ve climbed mountains all my life! Dagger, Spoon, and I are now halfway up, but still panic fuels us as even in the dark, the humans could see us, and then…

Death. Quick and wordless death. Miles away from Mount Gabo. A cry escapes my lips as I reach for the edge of the wall. Not even sure how I got there, I pull myself up and look around, seeing a walkway that seems to stretch forever in either direction. I gulp. It’s well-lit, and I can see the shadow of humans, no doubt guarding against many dangers, lounging in relative safety and comfort.

But I can’t think about that now! I pull myself up and hang my body halfway off the wall, so I can help pull Dagger and Spoon to the edge.

“Who do you think winning this year’s Gladiator pit?”

“You know I don’t watch that, Andrew.”

“But still,” the other voice insists, “you gotta know the fighters.”

“It’s all scripted!” the human Andrew scoffs, “Since Emperor October banned death matches.”

“Oh, come on!” says a voice that’s right below us!

I could scream, but instead, I just pull. First Dagger, who reaches for my left arm, then Spoon, who grabs my right. I pull with everything I have as they scramble up the side of the wall, their bare feet making scratching noises that sound deafening in the face of absolute fear. With a heave, we fall backward, bodies in a clump, sweating profusely, breathing loudly.

“You hear anything?” the voice of Andrew wonders.

“No. But seriously, get a hobby, weirdo.”

“Derick, I have hobbies.”

“Like what?”

“I paint elf airships.”

“You mean the models.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not a hobby.”

“Says who?”

“Says every date you ever had.”