So there we were. Back at the goblin village. It had been only about two weeks, but I was seriously starting to miss it a little. Assuming you wanted to call it a village at all. It was more of an empty space with a fence around it.
While we were gone, a few simple tents had been pitched around the area. There were signs of progress, at least. I spotted a large iron pot situated over the remains of the central campfire. Goblin cuisine used to be all about spit-roasting—but now they’d added simmering to the mix!
This was a truly remarkable development. Where’d they get that thing? Taking a closer look, I realized it was fashioned from the shell of a big turtle. Man, how much did they expand their hunting grounds while I was gone? I was glad they’d kept their home base safe, at least.
✦ ✦ ✦
The resident hobgoblins spotted our returning party quickly, greeting us with cheers and applause. I had rudely forgotten to bring souvenirs, but given the monster pelts and such I spotted drying here and there—proceeds from their hunting, no doubt—I was sure the dwarves would have everyone kitted up and clothed before long. I’d like the goblins to make that stuff themselves later, but let’s take it one step at a time.
I tried looking around for Rigurd so I could introduce the dwarves to him. I didn’t need to. He ran right up to me. I thought he was just excited to see us, but he had something bothering him instead.
“Welcome back!” he said before I could ask. “I hate to bother you so soon after returning, Sir Rimuru, but we have visitors…”
Visitors? …But I don’t remember having any friends.
I decided to let the dwarves show themselves around. They’d be living here for a while, and I was sure they were curious to see what it was like. I also stowed the tools I’d brought along in an empty tent, figuring the covering would at least offer some protection against the elements.
Leaving our new residents to Rigur, I had the elder guide me to our guests. He took me to one of the larger tents, which had been converted into a sort of meeting room. Who could it be? I guess I’ll find out, I thought as I bounced in.
Once I passed under the flap, I stopped. Inside were a bunch of goblins—the regular kind. Several of them were well dressed, each one accompanied by a handful of servants. Some elders and their guards, maybe? Nobody was armed. Not that I minded that.
Before I could ask what was up, the goblins prostrated themselves on the floor.
“““It is an honor to meet you, O great master!””” they all shouted in unison. “““Please, listen to our most earnest of hopes!”””
Great master? I guess they mean me, but really, that’s going too far. They sure believed it, though. Their eyes couldn’t have been more longing or resolute. There was no telling what they wanted, but I figured I’d hear them out.
“All right. Go ahead.”
“Oh, thank you for your generosity!” one of the elders shouted. “All of us here wish to join your throngs of followers, sir!”
“““Please, grant us your magnanimous kindness!!””” the others said as they remained on the floor, eyes turned to me, before bowing low.
✦ ✦ ✦
Honestly, I didn’t want to deal with this.
We’re just getting started with the rebuilding process here, guys. I don’t have time to waste on you!
I would’ve loved to simply shoo them off. But we did have a lack of manpower around here. And I could already picture the turf wars these guys would want to spring upon us sooner or later. Maybe it was best to take them in while we still could.
If they stab us in the back after that, we can just kill ’em all.
I wouldn’t take kindly to traitors. Rose-colored glasses would just get in the way when you were leading a pack of monsters. You had to keep a cool head around them. That was part of the reason I was willing to take these goblins in—because I wanted to prove to myself that I meant business.
Once again, I reminded myself, If these guys turn out to be traitors, I will personally kill every one of them. It was amazing how I could think about killing people as if I were wondering where to go for lunch, though. It came as a surprise, but—hell—it beat hemming and hawing over every life decision I made. Kept it simple.
By the way, if these were just the envoys, how many goblins were we talking overall? I sighed. I might have a hell of a lot of names to think up soon.
✦ ✦ ✦
The guards accompanying the goblin elders had gone back to their respective villages to report the news. So what did they have to say?
To sum up, their story went a bit like this…
It all began with the recent disruptions to the order around the forest. The other villages had de facto abandoned Rigurd’s during the direwolf attack in part because they simply had no combat resources left to assign to the place.
All the intelligent races in this forest—the orcs, the lizardmen, and the ogres, too—were starting to step up and stake their claims on this wood. There had been smaller arguments along those lines before, but there was also a sort of silent agreement that nobody would let it get to armed conflict. With the forest’s one and true overseer out of the picture, however, there were more than a few races out there ready to vent some steam.
Monsters, in general, had a tendency to puff up and engage in regular displays of power. Now every village in the forest was rapidly preparing itself to kick some ass. It was only a matter of time before something got the ball rolling. And goblins, the wimpiest kids on the block, were doomed to let most of these other races lay total waste to them.
This, naturally, alarmed most of the other goblin elders. The moment they got involved in this cross-forest turf war, it’d be over for them. So they held a conference, talked it over for several days, and were all too blockheaded to come up with any decent ideas.
Not that I would have expected them to…
News of the impending direwolf attack came in the midst of this, but their attention was focused elsewhere. Rigurd’s village was left for dead and all but forgotten. Their talks continued, with no miracles in sight.
Just as the villages’ food stocks were starting to run low, they heard word of yet another new forest menace—rumors of massive, dark beasts, piloted by people riding on their backs. They sped through the trees, as if traversing flat plains, and they utterly vanquished the more powerful monsters of the forest. Who were they? The concept made the goblins tremble with fear and surprise.
They were apparently…ex-goblins.
Opinions were split on how to handle this. Some suggested to travel to them immediately and beg for protection. Others found the tale too extraordinary to swallow, concerned that it might be a trap and refusing to believe that the ex-goblins would have no reason to trick them.
Trap or not, though, there was no guarantee this new race would accept them. Especially since they’d abandoned Rigurd’s village. Forgiveness appeared a futile hope for many of the elders. Even goblins were capable of shame, it turned out.
In the end, realizing they had reached the far end of their intellect, the conference ended with a total lack of any concrete conclusion. So the side that sought our protection decided to travel over here.
Now it all made sense. Still, pretty selfish of them, wasn’t it? We’re talking about weak, stupid, helpless goblins, though, so I should have known better. I’d already agreed to take them in, besides.
“Anyone who wants to come over, have at it,” I told the goblin representatives. That was enough to send them back home for now.